#and that’s not to say I don’t want to do other things instead

[cripplecharacters]

Writing a Schizophrenic Character: Everything But Hallucinations

Plain text: Writing a Schizophrenic character: Everything But Hallucinations

Hey! Mod Bert here. 

So: you’ve decided to write a character with schizophrenia or schizoaffective disorder (there are other disorders on the schizophrenia spectrum but I will be focusing on these for today)

You’ve done it, you have their hallucinations and maybe even delusions picked out. Maybe they are one of many who experience auditory hallucinations or maybe they also have visual hallucinations or a combination. Maybe they have olfactory hallucinations as well. They may have persecutory delusions or delusions of reference or something like Cotard’s delusion or clinical lycanthropy. Awesome, you’ve done it!

What, I hear you say? What do you mean that’s only 2 of the 5 components needed to be diagnosed with schizophrenia? What do you mean, you don’t need to hallucinate at all to be schizophrenic?

What Goes Into a Diagnosis of Schizophrenia

Plain Text: What goes into a diagnosis of schizophrenia

Not a lot of people realize there’s more to schizophrenia and schizoaffective than just hallucinations or delusions. There are 5 diagnostic criterias that are needed for schizophrenia, and only 2 of the 5 are needed for a month, with larger symptoms happening for six months or more. Let’s get into it.

Delusions

Hallucinations

Disorganized speech or thinking*

Disorganized or unusual motor behavior (catatonia)*

Negative symptoms (avolition, anhedonia, flat affect)*

I’m going to focus on disorganized speech/thinking, catatonia, and negative symptoms.

Disorganized Speech/Thinking

Plain Text: Disorganized Speech/Thinking

Schizophrenia and related disorders are often called “thought disorders” for a reason. Speech and thinking can be extremely affected, and for people like me this can be one of the first and most striking examples of an episode coming. Some people will always have disorganized symptoms that will flare during episodes. A myth is that schizophrenia can be indistinguishable with medicine: most people will have some level of symptoms even during moments of peace or “remission”. More on remission later. 

So, disorganized speech. Some examples are: word salad (schizoaphasia), thought blocking, poverty of speech (alogia), pressurized speech, clanging, and echolalia.

Word salad: a combination of words that do not make sense together. Often called schizoaphasia for its similarity to jargon in Wernicke’s aphasia, this is instead a disconnection with the brain and not due to damage to the language part of the brain.

(Example: the salad would be yellow in the fat cow).

Thought blocking: A severe loss of thought, often paired with connecting two trains of thought that are not connected

(Example: I went to the………Do you like grapes?)

Poverty of speech: A lack of organic responses to speech or organically speaking, it can be severe enough that a person only responds to questions or in one word responses. Can also happen in severe depression.

(Example: Person A: Did you do anything fun today?

Person B: Yes.

Person A: Oh, what did you do?

Person B: Store

Person A: How was it?

Person B: Fun)

Pressurized speech: A sort of frenzied way of speaking associated with psychosis or mania.

Clanging: Connecting phrases together because of what they sound like instead of meaning

(Example: I went bent tent rent).

Echolalia: Repeating word’s and phrases. Commonly also associated with Autism Spectrum Disorder. 

(Example: Person A: I went to the store.

Person B: To the store.)

These are not the only examples but they are some ones I thought I'd highlight, either because they’re well known or I have experience with them, or because they’re famously thought of with other disorders as well and I wanted to point out how things overlap.

Personal experience: I had severe alogia for the duration of my last and worst episode. People thought I was mad at them because of the clipped way I spoke and the lack of really speaking. It got me in a lot of trouble. I didn’t realize what I was saying was different or weird (I have the least insight when it comes to my speaking patterns affected by my schizoaffective, meaning I can’t hear any difference and all of this is from repeated conversations with my mom, who was my caretaker for a bit and knows the most about my speech and what it means). The best solution was talking with people and being honest and educating myself and others. I don’t know about others, but I couldn’t have used AAC at that time.

Catatonia

Plain text: Catatonia

Fun fact: catatonia means unusual motor behaviors! Any unusual motor behaviors mean catatonia. This includes what we think of when we think of catatonia in schizophrenia (inability to move) as well as the opposite (being unable to stop moving) as well as strange movements and ways of holding and moving the body! Catatonia in the DSM-5 includes 3 or more of these 12 behaviors:

-Agitation unrelated to external stimuli

-Catalepsy

-Echolalia

-Echopraxia

-Grimacing

-Mannerism

-Mutism

-Negativism

-Posturing

-Stereotypy

-Stupor

-waxy flexibility

I have some experiences with catatonia-like symptoms but since they were never identified as such I’ll skip those for now. I will say that catatonia is a symptom that can happen in many disorders besides schizophrenia as well.

Negative Symptoms! Yay!

Plain text: negative symptoms! Yay!

So a positive symptom (Hallucinations or delusions) are symptoms that add something to reality or a person. Negative symptoms are symptoms that take away. There are 5 A’s:

-Alogia (Again, poverty of speech, our favorite)

-Avolition (Lack of energy and motivation)

-Affect (Blunted affect, or a flat way of speaking)

-Anhedonia (Lack of pleasure in things that used to bring you pleasure, often thought of with depression)

-Asociality (Lack of interest in social events and relationships)

There are also often cognitive changes including thinking and memory, information recall, understanding, and acquisition, and so forth. 

Schizophrenia and schizoaffective often (but not always) happen with what’s called a prodromal period. This period can be months to years (mine was a little less than a year) and mainly consists of negative symptoms. Slowly, positive symptoms are added. There are thought to be stages to schizophrenia including prodrome, active phases, and remission.

I’ll talk about that a little for a second because I’m currently in remission and no one knows what that means. I was diagnosed with schizoaffective depressive type in January 2021. As of February 2024, I no longer qualified to be rediagnosed because my symptoms were strongly under control and no longer severe enough to qualify for a diagnosis. They also didn’t distress me or impact my daily life severely. Day to day now I still have mild symptoms and take my antipsychotics (trying to go off them have made it clear that I still have some symptoms I choose to keep medicating) but I haven’t had a delusion in 2 years and been hospitalized in 3. There’s always a possibility of another episode but I work with my team to keep myself one step ahead if that happens.

What I want from a character with schizophrenia

Plain Text: What I want from a character with schizophrenia

Alright the writing advice part. What do I want from a character with schizophrenia or schizoaffective (which is schizophrenia plus either depression or bipolar). 

-Characters with caregivers.

-Characters using coping strategies (recording hallucinations to tell if theyre hallucinations, taking medication, having service animals that greet people so they know if they’re a hallucination, using aids for the cognitive symptoms like sticky notes and organizational tools)

-Characters who know other characters with their disorder, either online or in support group or through running in similar circles

-Characters having autonomy

-Characters who aren’t the killer or horror victim. I know it’s cool to have the schizophrenic protagonist in horror, and I love horror, but I don’t want to read about the horror being symptoms the whole time

-Characters who are in magical scenarios, who are in fantasy and sci-fi. The schizophrenic princess and the schizoaffective robot technician aboard the spaceship.

-Medication and hospitalization treated casually. Sometimes we need higher care. That’s morally neutral

-Characters with negative symptoms and speech symptoms.

-Characters with catatonia! 

-Characters with other disorders as well

-characters with side effects from medicine treated casually

-Characters with cognitive symptoms

Thank you for reading this incredibly long thing! Happy writing!

[p0orbaby]

Request😍: y/n and alessia or leah (you decide! find your tumblr side and aaalll the stories of them. It leads to jealous alessia/leah bc of y/n being with other girls (like getting jealous when your partner cheats in your dream). Reader has to handle the situation and in the end manages to make less/leah focus on all the fluffy/spicy stuff there is about them. If you want to make it smutty (what we all love hehe): they eventually get inspired by tumblr and choose another story (you can decide which of all the good alessia/leah x reader smut on here) to reenact. Thank you!!! (If you dont want to write this feel free to repost for another writer, also you can switch the roles who is jealous, i dont care:)

i amended this a little, pls don’t hate me

it would be harsh to call this a crack fic but i honestly giggled the whole time writing it 🤭

-

You find Alessia on the sofa, her face illuminated by the blue glow of her phone screen. At first, you think she’s watching one of those oddly specific TikToks she loves—something about cats playing table tennis or an American teenager ranking their favourite crisps. But then you notice the furrow in her brow, the way her teeth tug at her bottom lip. Her expression is equal parts confusion, disbelief, and mild offence.

“Everything alright?” you ask, setting your keys on the counter.

She doesn’t answer immediately, which is a bad sign. Alessia always greets you the moment you walk through the door, even if it’s just to ask what you’ve brought for dinner. Instead, she tilts the phone slightly so you can see the screen.

“Do you know about this?” she asks, voice clipped.

You lean over, squinting at the screen. The webpage is clunky, its layout straight out of 2012, and the title reads something absurd like ‘Sunlit Smiles and Shadowed Hearts’. Your name is prominently featured in the summary, alongside a few other recognisable ones.

“It’s fanfiction,” she says, answering the question you haven’t asked yet. “About you”

You blink. “About me?”

“And other people,” she adds, her tone sharp now, like the edge of a too-clean knife.

The penny drops. “Wait—what?”

She sits up straighter, turning the phone to face you fully. “Look. This one has you with… God, Tooney. And this one—oh, this is just brilliant—you’re married to Ona. Married! Like we’re just some passing fling”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing, which, given her expression, would be a tactical error. Alessia doesn’t do jealousy often, but when she does, it’s like an overdramatic romcom villain plotting their revenge.

“Well,” you say carefully, “at least they’ve got good taste?”

“Good taste?” she repeats, incredulous. “One of these has you sneaking off with Mary behind my back during a post-match interview!”

“Creative, though,” you offer.

She glares at you, tossing the phone onto the cushion beside her. “This isn’t funny”

“It’s a little funny,” you say, sitting down next to her.

“It’s not,” she insists, crossing her arms. “Do you know how many of these there are? And how many don’t have me in them at all? Like I’m just some side character in your life?”

You try to suppress the grin tugging at your lips, but it’s no use. “Less, you do realise this is all made up, right? None of it’s real”

She huffs, her cheeks pink now. “I know that. But still. It’s insulting”

You reach for her hand, gently uncrossing her arms. “Alright, let’s look at it this way. I’m obviously very popular. Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Not when you’re popular with everyone except me”

“Oh, come on,” you tease, squeezing her hand. “I’m pretty sure there’s stuff about us too. The fluffy, romantic, borderline inappropriate kind”

Alessia hesitates, her gaze flicking to the phone. “You think so?”

“I know so,” you say confidently. “Because we’re the superior couple. Clearly”

That earns a small smile, though she tries to hide it. “You’re an idiot”

“And yet, here I am, fully committed to proving my devotion,” you say, reaching for her phone. You type in a search, scrolling through pages until you find what you’re looking for. “See? Right here. This one’s about us”

She leans over, peering at the screen. Her eyes scan the words, and slowly, her frown starts to fade.

“This is… cute,” she admits reluctantly.

“Exactly,” you say, draping an arm around her shoulders. “So, no more being jealous of fictional versions of me, okay? They don’t get to go home with you. I do”

She turns to look at you, her expression softening further. “Fine. But I’m still not over the Mary thing”

You laugh, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Noted. I’ll make it up to you”

“You better,” she mumbles, but there’s no real bite to her words anymore.

It’s only later, as you’re cooking dinner together, that you catch her sneaking glances at her phone again, her lips twitching with the beginnings of a smile. If she’s reading more of those stories, you don’t mention it. Some battles are better left unpicked.

[artist-issues]

This is the point. It does clearly say homosexuality is a sin in the Bible. You’re just applying your own ludicrous definition of what “clear” means to the Bible, in a way you wouldn’t any other missive.

I told you I’m not doing this with you. Because for all your intellectual frills and “saying it doesn’t make it so, it’s possible to misinterpret,” you’re still just saying, bottom line, “did God really say?”

…I mean, your points are correct insofar as the Bible can be interpreted incorrectly, and has been in certain times throughout history, and we have to be aware of the cultural context. Yeah. All that is correct.

…But then in your reblog you go and say things like, “arsenokoitai is a made-up word.” Or things like “in Deuteronomy 22:25 What is the sin here, is it meeting a young woman, is it meeting a young woman pledged to be married, is it meeting a young woman pledged to be married in the countryside, or is it rape?”

As if arsenokoitai isn’t a compound word. Easily seen and translatable in Greek as such. Sure, it’s “made up.” If words like, you know, icecream, bedroom, and pineapple are made up and nobody can tell what they mean. What lexicon are you using?

As if Deuteronomy 22:26-27, the literal very next verse, doesn’t clearly say what the sin is: “And you are not to do anything to the girl; there is no sin in the girl worthy of death, for just as a man rises against his neighbor and murders him, so is this case. When he found her in the field, the betrothed girl cried out, but there was no one to save her.” Especially when taken in the context of the previous verses as well. The sin is rape. Easily seen. It’s not hard to see. Because the Bible is clear and He does make Himself clear, when you read the whole thing and accept it all as His Word, instead of picking and choosing what you like and dislike, and where to get literal and where not to based on your own likes and dislikes.

If I went into why, and explaining it, and interpreting Deuteronomy 22 for you…it would be me, doing this with you. Which I refuse to do, because it’s so obvious it proves why I’m not doing this with someone who could nitpick at something so obvious in order to make the other obvious parts of Scripture, which they don’t like, look similarly nitpick-able by comparison, and then pretend that it’s somehow “being careful” to do so.

Next, tell me God didn’t mean “die” when He said “you shall surely die” eating from the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil in the Garden. Tell me that wasn’t clear. Tell me what He meant was “you shall be like God, knowing good and evil.” Because otherwise He would’ve “clearly said so.”

See, your actual standards of reasoning are correct, taken by themselves. “We must search for correct interpretation, because it’s possible to incorrectly interpret. We must use context in order to do this. We must be careful.” That’s all absolutely a set of correct interpretive principals.

But then you go and try to give me examples of how to apply those principals and those examples are ridiculous. Just oft-repeated, already-disproven, intellectually dishonest, face-value-nonsensical talking points from the general homosexual-affirming culture who are playing intellectual Twister to try and hold God’s Word and What He Forbids in the same hand.

So I’m not doing this with you. “Arsenokoitai is a made up word.” Give me a break.

You know what I will do? I’ll have this conversation with you privately, if you want to have it. Because then at least I’ll have some indication that you’re looking for truth, not just jumping at the chance to repeat culturally-accepted “interpretation” mantras on any public post that’s non-LGBTQ+-affirming. So if you really want to study the Bible, and you’re most interested in understanding God’s Word, or helping me understand it, let’s do it in the DMs. But if you’d rather debate by nonsensical standards so that you look correct in front of a world that already wants to believe your sin-affirming stance is true, go do it somewhere else.

Not on a post that specifically warns against everything you’re saying.

You thought when people painted the "someday you're going to have to choose, for real, between the World and God, you won't be able to walk the line between both" picture that they were talking about martyrdom.

Some extreme. "Trample this picture of Jesus." "Say you don't believe!" "Convert to a different religion!"

You didn't realize that it wouldn't look like that. You didn't realize that when the line gets drawn in the sand, and Jesus is on one side, the other side would look like crying people wailing out, "why can't you just accept me for who I am? Why aren't I enough for you?"

You didn't realize that the choice would be between Jesus the Truth...or a majority of people in the culture making movies, making t-shirt slogans, changing their names, gently telling you that maybe this word in the Bible doesn't mean what you think it means, maybe love just means love, maybe you can have Jesus and whatever sexuality you want.

"Did God really say...?"

You thought it would be something overt. But the bad guys never said, "hey, choose the dark side over the light." They always said, "hey, maybe you don't even know what Jesus said."

The choice is: "It is the Lord. Let Him do what seems good to Him." OR "Did God really say...?"

That's the choice. This is where the rubber meets the road. This is our "choose this day who you will serve." As for me, I'm serving the Lord, and He's holding on to me. He never changes, and yes He did really say.

Hold fast to the truth. It doesn't change. People and cultures do.

[athenamikaelson]

A/N- finn is hot- don't try to fight me on this

Klaus Mikaelson X Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Ch. 25

Word Count- 3.2k

Warnings- mentions of STDS, sex, condoms, bananas, THEO, decapitation, Kardashians

“Why are you smiling like that?” I finish applying the lipstick Rebekah sent me as an apology gift for attacking Elena, and glance over to Theo leaning against the doorframe.

“I just had a good dream,” I mumble as I stand up from my desk and grab my jacket.

Theo hums.

“So it has nothing to do with you letting that mutt slobber all over you last night…or his brother coming over right after and spending the night with you… I must say sister, juggling two bitches,” Theo wipes away a fake tear, “I’m so proud of you.”

I whip around and glare at him, “Theodore Monty Y/l/n, watch it!”

Theo smirks at me and raises his hands. 

“All I’m saying is that like 3 weeks ago the only side piece you had on your arm was Elena, and now you’ve got two brothers. Upgrades sister, hell ya!”

Theo throws out his palm for me to high-five. I don’t. Instead, I walk around him and down the hallway to the front door. 

Theo continues to speak.

“Now I know you’ve had zero playtime soooo I think we should chat about this. For example, we should have the talk.”

I freeze. 

“Theo, I will smother you in your sleep if you continue to talk.”

“Y/n, I don’t like children, I don’t want any nieces or nephews running around.”

I glare over my shoulder at him, “They’re vampires, you dimwit. They can’t have kids.”

Theo thinks to himself for a moment before nodding, “Okay. Well, what about STDs? What if there are vampire STDs you could catch? One look at that mutt from last night and I bet he’s got something you can catch other than fleas.”

I feel my face drop as Theo continues to mutter things to himself about vampire sexually transmitted diseases. 

I shake my head, open the front door, and leave the house, hearing Theo call from behind me. 

“Fine run! But don’t think for a second young lady that we won’t be discussing things later! And trust next time I see either one of those fools I will be asking them about Vamp STDs!”

At that exact moment, our 82-year-old neighbor Shelley, exits her house. I’m pretty sure her look of pure shock and horror mirrors mine. 

“Oh hi Mrs. Davenport,” Theo yells happily.

—

“Hey Bonnie, how are you?”

The phone line is silent for a moment as I hear Bonnie closing a door.

“I’m fine…I guess. My mom’s going to finish her transition,” Bonnie’s sad voice makes me frown as I stare at the red light in front of me. 

“I’m sorry, Bonnie,” I think back to last night and try to shake away the image of Esther’s decapitated head from my head, “If I would’ve known your mother…”

“Don’t apoligize, Y/n. It’s not your fault. And ya… it sucks she has to become a vampire but…it beats losing you or Elena. And I swear, Y/n, as soon as Damon told me that if the originals died, you would die with them, I tried stopping the spell. I would have never done it in the first place if I knew you’d die too.”

Bonnie’s earnest voice makes me smile, “I trust you, Bon. And thank you.”

I hear someone say something to Bonnie and she sighs, “I’ve got to go.”

“It’s ok, Bonnie. We’ll talk soon. Give yourself some time with your mother before coming back to this mess over here. You deserve it.”

“Okay, thank you. And when I get back we’ll find a way to get you out of that soul bond mess and away from the Mikaelsons.”

“Uh, ya, ok. Bye, Bonnie.”

I end the call and pull into the Grill’s parking lot. As I step out of my car, cross the street, and enter the grill, one thought won’t leave my head.

“What if I don’t want to break the bond?”

—

“Y/n?”

I stop walking and smile when my eyes meet Finn’s brown ones.

“Hey, Finn,” I slide into the seat in the booth across from him and can’t help but smile at the obvious discomfort he has plastered on his face.

“You look…”

“Uncomfortable…yes I know. A lot of things have changed since I was last part of civilization,” Finn fiddles with the ring on his middle finger and it reminds me of the anxious tic I do quite often. 

“We could’ve met somewhere else. I know that being in big crowds like this unsettles me too,” I smile softly at him. 

Finn eyes a group of passersby wearily but still shakes his head, “No…I’m alright. If I’m going to be a part of this world I’ve got to learn to live with these things.”

I nod, “Okay. So, why exactly did you have Rebekah call me to meet you here?” Finn turns his attention away from a drunk woman who seems to be having the time of her life, “You said you’d help me find my Rose.”

Oh…ya I did. 

I cringe slightly, “So here’s the thing Finn,” I’m about to tell Finn that there is no way in hell Bonnie would agree to bring another old ass vampire to Mystic Falls after what just went down, but as I look at the helpless expression on Finn’s face and the loneliness in his eyes, something in my breaks, “My witch is currently out of town for a family thing,” Finn’s shoulders sag and his face drops, “But, she said she’d be happy to help as soon as she gets back.”

Finn eyes me for a moment before a soft smile on his face appears, “I’ve waited 900 years for her…a little longer will be fine. Thank you for helping me, Y/n, I know you don’t have to but…”

“Finn we’re friends, that’s what friends do,” I say simply and Finn frowns. 

“Friends?”

The way he says the word aloud is as if he’s never heard it before.

“I mean you don’t have to be my friend, I was just-”

“I would like it,” Finn interrupts me, “It’s just that I’ve never really…had one before.”

His words bring back memories of me crying in my room, wondering why no one ever wanted to be around me and it makes me realize just how much me and this 1,000-year-old man have in common. 

“Well, I just got my first friend like 3 months ago, so I’m pretty new to this whole friend thing too.”

Finn frowns, “I don’t understand why someone wouldn’t want to be friends with you.”

I shrug, “I’m peculiar, remember?”

Finn’s upper lip twitches, “That we are.”

—

“Wait… so Kim is the oldest?”

I groan at Finn’s words, “Finnias, no! We’ve been over this Kourtney is the oldest! Kim is the one dating Kanye.”

Finn nods thoughtfully, “And we don’t like Kanye?”

I shake my head, “No because he was mean to Taylor Swift.”

I watch as the wheels turn in Finn’s head as he continues to piece together all the information on pop culture I’ve given him in the past hour. 

“Alright, I think I’m understanding. Actually…remind me again who Hannah Montana is?”

“Well, don’t you two look comfy together!”

I roll my eyes as I turn to see Demon Salvawhore smirking down at Finnias and I.

“What do you want, Demon?”

“I thought his name was Damon,” Finn questions me with a confused look.

“It is, but I still haven’t seen him and Lucifer in the same place at once so I call him Demon.”

Finn nods but looks down at his hands with a confused look.

“I just saw you two here chatting it up so I thought I might come say hi.”

“Well, we’re kind of in the middle of something here. So feel free to take your leave,” I glare at him.

“It’s alright, Y/n,” Finn says and I turn to see him getting out of the booth, “I should probably get back to make sure my siblings are still alright. But…thank you, for today and helping me.”

I smile up at Finn, “Anytime, Finnieas. And I’ll talk to Klaus about buying you that phone so I can show you how to text.”

Finn nods his head, smiling, and then walks away.

My smile falls as I glance back to Demon.

“What do you want?” “Why are you avoiding me?”

I blink slowly at him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Damon gives me an “Are you serious” look.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Pukey. I’ve tried calling you all night last night and all this morning. Only to find you here with yet another original.”

I stand up and glare at him, “Finn is my friend.”

“Ya? Just like Elijah and Klaus are right?”

This bitch.

“I’m not doing this with you right now, Damon. Leave me alone.”

I turn and walk away but Damon’s hand grabs my upper arm.

“Y/n, stop.”

“Is there a problem here, Y/n?”

I turn to my right to find Rebekah at my side, glaring at Damon.

“No, Rebekah. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Rebekah smiles at me but doesn’t move. 

Damon drops my arm but doesn’t leave, “Why are you mad at me?”

It’s my turn to give him an “Are you serious” look, “Really Damon?! You almost killed the Mikaelson yesterday, which almost killed me, and then you actually did kill Bonnie’s mom who is now turning into a vampire?!”

Damon rolls his eyes and I fight the urge to slap him.

“Bonnie’s mom needed to die,” He says simply and I glare at him.

“And why was that?”

Damon doesn’t blink, “Because it came down to you or her,” His voice comes out strong, “And I’d pretty much kill everyone in this town if it meant my best friend stayed alive.”

Oh, Jesus Christ, I’m going to cry.

“Oh…”

Damon tilts his head, annoyed,  “That’s all you have to say. Oh?”

The next thing I know I’m throwing my arms around him. 

Damon doesn’t move for a moment, but after a few seconds his arms wrap around me and he pats my head awkwardly, “Ya, okay, Pukey. Love you too.”

I let go of Damon and fight back tears in my eyes. Damon rolls his eyes and fies his jacket trying to act tough. 

“You’re too emotional,” He says nonchalantly.

I punch him in the arm, “You just called me your best friend. Not takebacks, Demon.”

Damon rolls his eyes dramatically, “Ya whatever, Pukey.”

He reaches out a hand and messes up my hair before turning around and walking away, not before I spot the small smile on his face.

“You guys are odd.”

Rebekah’s British accent makes me remember she’s standing beside me. 

“Ya, kind of.”

Rebekah rolls her blue eyes and a wave of jealousy flows through me. How is it that someone can be this pretty?! 

“So…Elijah didn’t come back until early this morning,” Rebekah’s lips morph into a smirk, “Do you know anything about that?”

I feel my face heat up, “Um…nope.”

Rebekah raises an eyebrow, “Are you sure? Because the smile that was plastered on his face all this morning says otherwise.”

I furrow my brows, “What does him smiling have to do with me?”

Rebekah gives me an “Are you serious” look, guess it’s common today, “Maybe because the only time my older brother smiles is when he’s around you…And he was really smiling this morning.” 

At her tone I freeze, “Wait…do you think that we…” I move my hands around, “Y’know…”

Rebekah raises an eyebrow at me, “Well, didn’t you?”

I shake my head viciously, “No! All we did was kiss and then he watched Coraline with me until I went to sleep!”

Rebekah’s face falls, “Seriously? You’ve got my older brother all giddy after one kiss.”

I shrug, “I doubt he was “giddy”.

Rebekah nods her head, “Oh trust me, he was practically singing when he was making his morning coffee. 

I snort out a laugh at her words and try to imagine Elijah singing. 

“I like seeing him that way…happy. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen any of my siblings like that.”

At her solemn voice, I frown, “How are you doing? After everything…”

Rebekah shrugs, “I’m fine. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t be.”

Her dismissal has me frowning deeper, “Bekah, you’re mother died. I know that she tried to kill you but it doesn’t change the fact that she was still your mother.”

Rebekah looks at me but her face doesn’t betray how she’s really feeling, “I’m fine, Y/n. Finn was the mummy’s boy. I don’t give a damn about that woman.”

I nod but still don’t believe her, “Well if you ever do need to talk to someone. You can always call me.”

Rebekah eyes me for a moment skeptically, then nods, “I won’t need to but…thanks. I guess,” Her attention strays for a moment, “There is someone I need to go talk to. Goodbye, Y/n.”

“Bye, Rebekah.”

—

I pull into my driveway but feel a frown come over my face as I notice an unfamiliar expensive-looking black car in my usual parking spot.

I park beside it and hurry into the house, worrying about Theo.

“Theo! Are you okay-”

“So, both of you have your bananas, and these right here are condoms,” I turn the corner and my jaw drops as I see Theo holding up a banana and a Trojan condom. An unfamiliar sound comes out of my mouth when I look at the two figures sitting on the couch before him with bananas in their hands and annoyed looks on their faces. Klaus and Elijah. 

“Theo what the hell are you doing?!?”

My yell of utter horror catches the three men’s attention.

“Oh, goody! Sister, I’m glad you’re here,” Theo drops his banana on the coffee table before Klaus and Elijah, a table that is covered in condoms and STD pamphlets, “After our little talk this morning I got to thinking and decided that if you and I aren’t going to talk about the elephants in the room, I’d just call up your boyfriends and have that chat with them myself.”

I stare wide-eyed at Elijah and Klaus, “And you both agreed to this?!?”

Elijah releases a deep sigh and Klaus glares at my little brother, “Your infant here called us and said we had to get over here because you were in danger.”

Theo raises his hands, “YES! In danger of catching a vampire STD.”

“Theo! Those don’t exist,” I screech at him.

“That’s exactly what we’ve tried to explain to him for the past 30 minutes, Elskan. For some reason, it isn’t sticking,” Elijah raises his head and shoots a dirty look at my brother. 

“Thirty minutes!? You’ve been sitting here for thirty minutes letting my 16-year-old brother have the sex talk with you!?”

“Well, 15 of those minutes were filled with threats,” Klaus mutters.

I glare at him, “I thought I told you to stop threatening my brother.”

Klaus turns his glare onto me and raises his hands in exhaustion, “The threats were from him, Love! And they were quite imaginative.”

“Thank you, I’ve been working on them for a while now,” Theo smirks at Klaus, and the hybrid growls at him. 

“Niklaus, please,” Elijah sighs.

Theo turns his attention back onto me, “Well now that you’re here,” He drags me over to a chair and pushes me down into, “I can finally give you the talk.”

“What talk,” Elijah asks confused.

Theo looks at him like he’s stupid, “The sex talk, dumbass. Since you,” He points to Elijah, “Like to spend the night in my sister’s bed without asking me permission. And you,” He points to Klaus, “Like to slobber all over her like the dog you are. I thought it would be a good idea to have this discussion before things move further. Now gentleman pick your bananas back up.”

“Theo! NO!”

Theo ignores me and smiles at Klaus and Elijah, who haven’t moved.

“One more dog joke out of you, Theodora and I swear I’ll-”

“Niklaus!”

Elijah and Klaus eye each other and Theo just stands there tapping his shoe on the hardwood floor. 

“Theo go to your room, right now,” I stand up and glare at him, “We are not having this discussion right now…or ever!”

“But the vampire STDS!”

“Theodore there are no such things as vampire STDS! GO TO YOUR ROOM!”

My yelling has all three men looking at me wearily. 

Theo raises his hands in surrender, “Ok, fine. Just trying to help.”

“And leave the condom here!”

Theo halts and turns back to the table and Klaus, Elijah, and I watch as Theo empties maybe 30 condoms from his jeans. 

“Bloody hell,” Klaus mutters.

I glare at Theo as he skips out of the living room and down the hall to his room. As soon as I hear his door close I run a hand over my face.

“Elskan-”

I raise a hand stopping Elijah before he can continue. 

“Nope. Whatever you’re going to say…just nope.” 

“Well, I’m never going to look at a banana the same way,” Klaus’ says sarcastically and I’m silent for a moment before a loud laugh escapes my mouth.  

I move my hands from my face and find Klaus smirking at me, and Elijah smiling softly at me with a bright look in his eyes. 

“Why didn’t you both just leave,” I asked incredulously, “You two are the strongest and oldest creatures alive, and yet you stayed to have a teenage boy teach you how condoms work?!”

Klaus and Elijah side-eye each other. 

Elijah stands from his seat and fixes his suit jacket, “When we heard that you were in danger we hurried over here as fast as we could…but when we came inside and found this,” He gestures to the table of condoms and bananas, “We were going to leave.”

“And then Theodora locked the door behind us and told us that if we didn’t sit down and shut up he’d never give us his approval. And then said that we can bet our asses that if we don’t have his approval, you’d never speak to us again. I of course told him to go to hell but my brother here sat down like the good boy he is,” Klaus says and rolls his eyes.

“And yet you’re still here,” Elijah mutters. 

“So let me get this straight,” I look to both of them, “You endured Theo’s company for 30 minutes, just because you want his approval?!”

“If his approval means you accepting us…then of course we did.”

Klaus mutters something about Theo and daggers, but I ignore him. 

“You really care that much?”

Klaus and Elijah both give me “Are you serious” looks. 

“Love, I thought we made our thoughts about you quite known,” Klaus says as he stands, “We want you. Even if that means you come with a less than exceptional little brother as baggage.”

I snort at Klaus’ words and Elijah walks across the table and over to me, “There is nothing in this world I desire more than your company and happiness, Y/n. Please believe me when I say that.”

I feel my face heat up at the attention of the two men and I nod.

“I believe you.”

“Great,” Klaus says then pauses, “Also…I was just wondering what exactly was discussed by you and Theodora to warrant all of this,” He gestures to the table with a smirk. 

Oh fuck.

[rafesangelita]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW | FIVE

a pogue!sweetheart!reader series by rafesangelita ©

SUMMARY: finding you when he thought all hope was lost, rafe decides that this is the last time you two will ever be separated.. til’ death do you part.

WARNINGS: lots of emotions lol, crying, angst, description of unprotected sex, fluff

LINKS: series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

WORD COUNT: 1.7k

“how did you find me?” you’re pulling rafe inside by his shirt, his hands finding your hips as he stared at you incredulously. he couldn’t believe you were in front of him. he didn’t answer, instead he took your face in his hands, tears brimming his eyes as he rested his forehead on yours. “please never do that again.” you felt your heart break when his voice came out shaky, your own tears already rolling down your cheeks. “i’m so sorry—” rafe shut the door, clicking the lock shut before sitting you down on the motel bed.

“i got your note,” rafe made sure to keep your hand in his as he spoke, “i know that you left because you felt like you were doing the right thing.” he laughed bitterly, flashbacks of the look on his dad’s face when he saw that you didn’t take the money ran through his mind. “but i need you to know something else..” your heart was beating out of your chest, a million words sitting on the tip of your tongue. there was so many things you wanted to say, but you didn’t know where to start.

“doing the ‘right thing’ would never result in us being away from each other. you sacrificed everything and left behind everything you’ve ever known for me, so i made my own sacrifices too.” just as you were going to question what he meant, he held up his hand, the gold ring that he once wore with the utmost pride was now gone. your eyes widened, your lips parting as you shook your head. “oh, rafe..” inspecting his fingers, you couldn’t help but run your digits over his palm, “what did you do? what did i do?”

regret pooled in your stomach. the one thing you didn’t want to happen, happened. “hey, look at me— you didn’t do a damn thing, alright? my dad didn’t take anything from me, i left it. the same way you walked away from everything, so did i.” your head shot up at his words. “you left it? the business, your family ring, everything?” rafe watched as the corner of your eyes became wet with tears, your chin wobbling slightly. “y/n,” he stroked the side of your face, “everything means absolutely nothing if i don’t have you by my side.” you swore you could’ve died right there.

rafe embraced you as you let out a sob, your hands clinging onto him as if he’d disappear from your grasp. “i’m so sorry i left!” you cried out into his chest, “i’ll never leave you again, i swear it!” your arms moved to wrap around his neck, your heart finally feeling full again. rafe shushed you, rubbing your back soothingly as you two cried in each other’s embrace. rafe knew it was now or never. everything that you two have been through— all the tears, all the scrutiny and pain, trials and tribulations, all the laughs, the sweet moments, the whispering of words in the dark, all of it was meant to lead up to this very moment.

rafe pulled away, taking both of your hands in his as he moved down to the floor— on one knee. sniffling, you watched with a confused gaze as rafe reached into his pocket. “i bought this ring the morning i first left your camper,” your eyes widened as he pulled out a small box, “you left one of your rings on the bathroom sink and i took it with me to get an accurate size on this one,” he laughed, “i thought i was crazy when i was there buying it from the jeweler, but it all makes sense now.” a small gasp left your lips when he opened the box, revealing a dainty diamond ring. “rafe..” your voice was barely above a whisper.

“marry me.”

his words cut through the air, your breath catching in your throat. “what?” a hint of a smile played on your lips as his eyes got lost in your own. “marry me,” he repeated, “you fulfilled wedding vows since the very beginning. ‘for better, for worse.’ you and me made decisions, we let go of things despite how painful it was, we did it for each other,” rafe swallowed thickly. ‘for richer, for poorer.’ you never cared about how much money i had, you welcomed me into your camper and we made the best of it,” he rose his eyebrows suggestively, making a giggle fall from your lips at the memories of you two getting tangled in your bed.

tightening your grip on his hand, your smile faded when he broke down, his shoulders shaking slightly as his head hung in complete surrender. “you didn’t give up on me when you had every reason to. ‘in sickness and in health.’ you stuck by me when i was at the height of my addiction, and i could never thank you enough for never losing faith in me. i yelled at you, i talked to you harshly— fuck, i hate myself for that. i was in the worst shape i had ever been in, and you still looked at me as if i hung the stars up for you. you loved me at my worst, and brought me back up to be my best.” now you were crying too, small hiccups emitting from your throat.

“y/n, will you please do me the honor of giving me your hand in marriage?” rafe glanced up at you, the expression on your face unreadable. “of course i will.” that was all rafe needed before he slid the beautiful ring on your finger, both of you pulling each other into a searing kiss. with his lips still connected to yours, rafe took a seat on the bed, pulling you on top of his lap effortlessly. you two stayed like this until the tears on your cheeks dried, both of you growing needy for something more than just rushed kisses and lingering touches.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered against his lips, “i never want to be away from you ever again.” rafe’s eyes were now clouded with something else other than tears— lust. “stop saying sorry. nothing else matters right now.” rafe’s fingers slipped underneath your top, your eyes fluttering shut as he licked a stripe up the column of your throat. groaning at the taste of your skin, you gasped when he cupped you through the lacey material of your bra. being apart from one another was one thing, but not being able to hold, love, or touch each other was completely different.

“i’ve been staying at your camper for this past week, you wanna know why?” you moaned softly as he took your top off, humming a small ‘why?’ before you tugged at his shirt. “because it smells like you. the sheets, your pillows, everything, it all smelled like you and i needed to feel you close somehow.” you pulled away at the revelation, your hands coming up to cup cheeks. “please let me make it up to you..” your voice was so sweet, but the indication of your words was even sweeter. “oh, you will.” rafe nodded to himself, his hand coming up to unclasp your bra.

rafe laid you down and worshipped your body as if it was your first time together all over’s again. not a single inch of your body went untouched, the man above you whispering praises again your skin. you two laughed, cried, kissed, and hugged all while he rocked inside of you, his fingers intertwined with yours as he continuously placed kisses to your knuckles. he was gentle, yet so precise with his movements, you were easily gasping his name in no time. never looking away from each other once, you held eye contact while he spilled into you, his lips molding to yours as if they were made just for you.

“i love you.” you smiled softly as his breath fanned against your cheek. pulling him flush against your chest, you wrapped your legs around his waist in order to keep him between your thighs. “i love you, too.” rafe rested his forehead in the curve of your neck, his large palms rubbing soft circles into your skin. you two stayed like this until he pecked the corner of your lips, rolling to your side before taking you in his arms. with your back to him, both of you admired your ring as if you couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “rafe?” you whispered, a smile gracing your lips when he hummed.

“i can’t believe it..” rafe trailed kisses along the back of your shoulder, his hand holding up your own. “i can,” he started, “i knew this day was going to come, i just wish i did it sooner.” you turned around in his embrace, running your index finger along his jaw. “you never answered my question earlier.” rafe’s eyebrows knitted in confusion. “what? how i found you?” nodding, you let your eyes trail over his features as he explained himself. “well i searched the whole island, and when people told me they hadn’t see you anywhere i figured that meant you left it altogether.”

your eyes widened at his words. “you looked for me all this time?” you already felt bad for leaving in the first place, but now you felt even worse. “of course i did. i went to the icecream parlor and asked around for you there, and then i went to the country club, but everyone just kept saying the same thing.” you closed your eyes, a defeated sigh falling from your lips. “i looked up the closest motel and this place showed up, so now i’m here.” rafe was unbelievable. “i need to get you a wedding band!” you gasped, the realization dawning on you once you stroked his empty fingers.

“i already got one. it’s at the camper.” you stared at him blankly. “rafe cameron.” he smiled when you said his full name, finding amusement in the way your voice sounded serious all of a sudden. “i mean it when i say i thought everything through already,” he kissed you, “i never really understood what people said, but now i get it.” smiling against his lips, you looked up at him through your lashes. “what do you mean? what did they say?” rafe cradled your head, those blue eyes of his dripping pure adoration for you as he spoke.

“when you know, you know.”

taglist: @percysley @oceandriveab @lacydollette @weirdowithnobeardo @mattyskies @cnnamongrl @b3bybunny @littlelamy @nemesyaaa @lovinqbella @jeonmochi99-blog @corpsebridenightamare @whorelaud @mymvlody @idontknowwhyimhere33 @ursovaine @maybankslover @ilovefiction4lmen @rafesfavouritegirl @katekells @winnie1emon @sexysadie23 @hewwokitti @avvwritesstufff @purplerose291 @avengersgirllorianna @rafegf-real @impossibleturkeydiplomatghost @dearestjune @finnickodairslut @starkeysprincess @stoned-writer @just-here-for-ff @snowtargaryen @sarahsangelicdoll @imjustagirl713 @hypnotizedstarkey

[abswife]

best friend

you and your best friend ellie are spending the day goofing off like usual, but things take a turn when a tickle fight goes a little too far.

hello! i know it's been literal months since I've posted, and to that i have to say... woops! anyway, here's something i threw together in a moment of creative inspiration involving nerdy loser ellie! this might suck so let me know if it's not hot garbage and you want a part 2

cw// sesbian lex, top!ellie, bottom!reader, fingering, cunnilingus, so fluffy, like you might get a toothache this is so sweet, ellie being a big loser and sweetheart, reader is only described as having hair and is afab

word count- 3k

mdni i swear to god

“No, I’m telling you- a T-rex is nothing compared to a pterodactyl!” Ellie insisted, lightly nudging your leg with her sock-clad toes. You giggled at her, amused by her persistence to get her point across. But, despite her obvious knowledge in this particular field, you felt the need to be contrary. You shift back a little on her bed, leaning against the headboard.

“Mmm, I don’t know Els… a T-rex is pretty big.” You hummed, plastering a skeptical look on your face. She scoffed, offended by your audacity to doubt her.

“Well yeah, but they can’t fly! They have little nub arms, like, they couldn’t even grab you!” She curled her arms in front of her, making little swiping motions with them. “See?”

You couldn’t help but let out a bark of laughter at her- frankly- spot-on impression. You shoved her, making her topple back, almost falling off of her side of the bed entirely. She let out a little yelp, catching herself just on the edge. She spun back around with a mock look of shock.

“What? You didn’t like my impression? I’ll have you know I’ve been told no one can do a T-rex like me!” She shouted, clambering up onto her knees. Using the height advantage, she reached down to your ribcage to begin an assault of tickles. You screeched and tried to make a grab at her hands but she scrambled them around your torso, making it hard to get a grip.

“Els! Quit it!” You managed to say through your uncontrollable laughter. You thrashed, but she trapped your legs between her knees. A shit-eating grin adorned her freckled face as she continued her attack. You could feel your face getting hot from exertion but you refused to give in.

Finally, you managed to grab her wrists well enough to pry them from your body, immediately gulping down air while you knew you still could. However, Ellie quickly twisted her wrists from your grasp and grabbed onto yours instead, pinning them against the pillows next to your head. Instantly, you felt a shift in energy. Ellie’s smile dropped slightly as she stilled, eyes locked on yours. You tried to catch your breath, but it was hard with the way she was 1. still on top of you, and 2. looking at you like that.

You and Ellie had been friends for as long as you could remember. You were next door neighbors and, being two girls the same age, you quickly became each other’s besties. Even when Ellie and her dad, Joel, moved across town in middle school you stayed close. You were constantly at her house, it was practically your second home. Ellie was your favorite person in the world. She also happened to be your longtime crush. Ever since the 7th grade, when she started getting taller and grew into her features. You both knew you each like girls, but Ellie always had a crush on some other girl at your school. You didn’t want to ruin the relationship you had with your best friend by telling her you liked her when she obviously didn’t like you back. So anytime your hug lingered a little too long, or you accidentally brushed her arm or leg, you’d get tense and nervous.

You felt your face heat up more, the feeling worsening when you felt her breath fan across your face. Oh shit, was she getting closer? Your gaze flicked down to her lips, now merely centimeters from yours. When you looked back up to her eyes, she was staring at your lips. You let out a stuttering exhale, clenching your bound hands into fists. 

“Els…” You breathed out, and her eyes snapped back up to yours. You pulled one of your hands free from her now slacked grip and rested it on her cheek. She whispered your name and once again briefly looked down to your lips. You slid your hand around to the back of her neck and pulled her down towards you. You watched her eyes slide shut, and then did the same right as your mouths met.

Her lips were slightly chapped, but her mouth was warm and soft against yours. You could feel her hand that still held your wrist tighten its grip, and you scraped your nails across her hairline. She pulled back for a moment to change her angle so she could kiss you deeper and you hummed, enjoying the way her mouth pressed fully against yours. She gave an experimental lick into the crease of your lips and your breath shuddered. You felt her finally release her hold on your other wrist to instead hold your waist, her pinky brushing just under your t-shirt. You reached your arm around her back, tugging her body closer to yours. You both let out a soft moan at the feeling of your bodies aligning as her hips slotted between your parted thighs.

She drew her face back and you opened your eyes. She looked down at you and lightly brushed stray hair on your temple away. She leaned back down to kiss the corner of your lips, then your cheek, then your jaw, and onward along the expanse of your neck. You tipped your chin back, encouraging her to keep going. Her plush lips left wet kisses across your throat, occasionally nipping at the skin and soothing the sting with her tongue. She sucked at a patch of skin below your ear and you bucked your hips up involuntarily. The hand that held your waist slid lower to push your shirt up slightly.

  She paused her ministrations to ask, “Is this okay?” You quickly nodded and tugged her back down into a kiss, needing to feel her lips on you. You felt her hand under your shirt slowly creep up higher until it rested on your ribs, just under your breast. You slid your hand up to fully palm the back of her head and took hold of her hair. A groan slipped out of her and you squeezed her hips between your thighs at the sound.

Ellie muttered out a curse as she once again parted from you. “Can I take this off? Please?” She asked, fumbling with the hem of your shirt, desperation leaking into her tone. You nodded again, but she shook her head and leaned an inch closer. “No, need you to say it.”

You furrowed your brows and pouted, but quickly gave in. “Yes, take it off. Yours too.” You said, bunching the fabric of her own shirt in your fist. The corner of her lips turned up at your request and she leaned back down to give you a peck before sitting back on her haunches. She pulled your shirt up and you leaned forward, putting your arms above your head to make it easier for her. 

As soon as your head and arms were freed from the fabric, you leaned back down and expected her to immediately remove hers. However, she sat with the shirt still in her grip, staring at your bare chest. You blushed, but you weren’t embarrassed. You could tell from the look on her face she liked what she saw. You grabbed her shirt and tugged on it. “C’mon…” You muttered, eager to get your own view. Without taking her eyes away from where they were fixated, Ellie swiftly pulled the garment up and over her head, exposing her small breasts. You mimicked her actions, staring unabashedly at her pink nipples.

Finally, she leaned back down to slide a calloused hand up your waist until she palmed your tit. She bit her lip and couldn’t seem to decide on whether to watch her own hands play with your tits, or watch your expressions. She pinched a nipple between her fingers and rolled, and your breath hitched at the feeling, biting your own lip. “God…” She muttered. She couldn’t hold herself back from kissing you again, and you held her face to keep her there. You whimpered into her mouth as she continued to toy with your nipples, and slid your hands down to do the same. You felt her breath catch when you pressed your thumbs down flat against them and flicked down. You both continued like that for a while, kissing and moaning into each other’s mouths as you played with the other’s breasts. 

A particularly harsh pinch had you tossing your head back and bucking your hips up. This spurred her to reattach herself to your neck and grind down against you, earning her a high pitched noise from you. Ellie began her descent down your body, trailing her lips along your chest and the valley between your breasts. She made a quick detour to flick a nipple with her tongue, then suck it into her hot mouth. You arched your back, chasing the feeling as she continued her journey. Her hands gripped your hips as she sucked marks into your stomach. Your hands made their way into her hair, pushing it back from her face to see her better. Her fingers curled into the waistband of your sweats, just barely inching them down to plant kisses closer to your navel. You squirmed at the sensation, tightening your grip on her auburn locks.

Her fern green eyes looked up into yours, lips hovering no more than a couple inches from the skin of your hips. “You want these off?” She asked, voice raspy and dripping with lust. You whispered a soft ‘yes’, not trusting your voice enough to try for anything more. Seemingly satisfied, she nipped at your hips once more before sliding down farther to give herself room to fully remove your pants. She slowly tugged your sweatpants and underwear down at once before becoming impatient halfway through and practically ripping them the rest of the way off, slinging them off to the side. 

You suddenly felt a wave of self consciousness and clamped your knees together before she could turn back to you. When she did, she frowned slightly. She planted her hands on your ankles and looked up to your face. “Baby,” She started, making your heart jump at the pet name, “lemme see.” You felt blood rush both up to your face and downward, and you wiped your sweaty palms onto the sheets below you. Her hands skated up your calves, coming to rest just below your kneecaps as she sat up higher. She pressed messy kisses to your knees, pushing her thumbs into the insides, trying to encourage you to open up. Despite your- admittedly misplaced- sudden insecurity, you slowly parted your legs, displaying your whole body for her eyes to feast on. And feast they did.

Another curse slipped from her peachy lips, gaze locked on your wet pussy. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” Ellie said, her eyes briefly flicking up to your face. She seemed to take herself by surprise, and a deep blush spread up from her pale chest. Her reaction was oddly adorable, and you breathed out a small giggle. That must have reassured her, as a shy smile appeared back on her face. 

You reached your hand out towards her and curled your fingers in. “C’mere.” You said. Obediently, she crawled her way back up your naked body and let herself be pulled into a passionate kiss. Your fingers brushed her jaw, feeling the ends of her hair tickle your knuckles. She broke the kiss, but couldn’t stop herself from giving you one more peck, and then one to your cheek. “Will you take your pants off too? I don’t want to be the only one naked.” You requested, thumbs circling the apples of her cheeks. Her smile turned impish, and she twisted her head to press her lips to your palm. 

“I can’t believe it. The past ten minutes you’ve been trying to get into my pants?” She jokingly questioned, making you laugh loudly. 

“Believe it or not I have.” You answered, sliding a hand down to give her hard nipple a pinch. She gasped, holding a hand to her chest.

“Well, you could have told me!” Ellie exclaimed, then leaned her head down to litter your chest with kisses. Still softly laughing, you glided your hands up and down her back until she sat back. She twisted her body around to hook her thumbs into her pants and slide them down her legs, her underwear going along with them. As she stood back on her knees to face you again, you caught a glimpse of the patch of red hair covering her mound before she leaned back over you to continue worshipping your body with her mouth. 

Ellie quickly made her way back to her previous stopping point, the stretch of skin right above your navel. She leaned back slightly and brought a hand up, gently pushing your thigh further out to give herself more room. She admired your glistening folds, and slid a single finger right down the middle, collecting your essence. You bit your lip, the anticipation driving you crazy. She finally pressed her thumb against the underside of your clit, rubbing up and down gently. The stimulation made your thigh twitch and your breath catch. Taking notice of this reaction, Ellie pressed down harder, making firm circles. This made your breathing pick up, and you reached a hand up to palm at your breast, needing something to focus on other than her unintentional teasing. 

She used her index and middle finger to part your lips, spreading you out for her. Reaching her head down, she licked a fat stripe from your entrance to your clit. You breathed out her name, sweat beginning to form on your hairline. She shushed you gently in consolation just before diving back into you, tongue exploring. She suctioned your clit into her mouth while flicking it with her wet muscle, and you cried out. You were beginning to wonder if she had actually done this before and just never told you.

Your wondering was cut off when she used the two fingers she had been using to open you up to swirl broad circles over your bud and locked her gaze on you. “Can I finger you?” She asked almost too casually, too caught up in her excitement to be nervous. The eager look on her face almost made you want to deny her, but you were too needy yourself.

“Go ‘head Els.” You said. She grinned and messily smacked a kiss on your aching clit, running her fingers through more of your wetness. Slowly, she inserted her middle finger up to the knuckle, then pulled back until just the pad remained inside. The foreign feeling made you furrow your brows, both out of frustration and pleasure. She found a rhythm quickly and her eyes locked onto the sight of her lazily pumping in and out. Experimentally, she curled her finger upwards towards your front. This action had you clenching down, a whimper being pulled from your throat. Her emerald irises snapped up to your face, noticing how her actions affected you. 

As she pressed a second finger in alongside the first, she bent down to keep licking you. The sensation was immediately overwhelming, and one of your hands shot down to grab onto her short hair. Once again, she curled her fingers up just as they bottomed out inside you and your hips jumped from the bed. Your brain told you the feeling was too much, but your body craved more. She found her rhythm again, slightly faster now. Her tongue laved over your bud, spreading your slick as it leaked from your hole. She hummed, and the vibrations caused your moans to increase in pitch. “Fuck! Like that- ah!” You cried out, encouraging her to continue exactly as she was. Thankfully, Ellie listened, pace never faltering as she fucked her fingers deep inside of you.

You could feel the warmth building up in your belly and knew you would cum soon. Fearing she would suddenly pull away or slow down, your grip on her hair tightened and you pulled her mouth flush to your pussy. Ellie moaned and let herself be shoved into you, opting to suck on your clit rather than lick. Your breath caught in your throat, back arching in a harsh curve as you felt your orgasm rapidly approach. Ellie dug her nails into the thigh she held as they began to shake around her head.

You let out one last pitchy whine as your high crashed over you. Your thighs squished her cheeks as they attempted to close, but she used both of her hands to push them back open, holding your hips down at the same time. Her mouth continued its assault, head moving side to side as she worked you through your orgasm. The feeling quickly became overwhelming, and your palm pushed against her forehead. “Els… too much…” You croaked out. She finally broke contact with your glossy pussy, opting instead to stare at the way your hole clenched around nothing. 

“Fuck baby…” Ellie muttered, reaching up to run a thumb through your wetness, accidentally brushing your sensitive bud and making you jump. Panting, you grabbed her hand and pulled it up, wanting her to come up and kiss you. She seemed to understand this and made a slow journey back to you, leaving searing kisses across your body on the way. Once you were finally face to face you pulled her down for a proper smooch, hands cradling each side of her face. She brushed your hair back from your sweaty face as you tried to peck her on each of her freckles. She hummed a laugh and captured your lips in another soft kiss before pulling back and resting her head beside yours, nose nuzzling into your pulse point. You let out a heavy sigh, letting the aftershocks wrack through you as you rubbed her back.

“I love you.” She said, pressing her lips to your earlobe. 

You smiled and tugged her hair to look her in the eyes. “I love you too.” You responded, thumbing her pouty bottom lip. She kissed your thumb, and held your face in one of her hands. 

Her breath shuddered as your hand slithered down her torso, fingertips playing with the curly hair just above her pussy. “Your turn?”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi! I recently watched the new Gladiator sequel and I’m so obsessed with the emperors, they’re absolute cuties<3 I was just wondering if you could write some headcanons maybe about being married to both of them, of course it’s fine if you don’t write about polygamy

Have a great day

My freaky gingers! Fred and Joseph did amazing as Caracalla and Geta in my opinion, my freaky little sadistic ginger emperors.

Being wanted by one sibling meant being desired by the other.

Geta and Caracalla shared everything, for nothing could ever belong to one of them as the other was bound to grow envious and want the same thing for himself.

So let’s say you were originally planned to marry just Geta or Caracalla, but the pair would abuse their power as emperors and demand that you were to marry both of them instead.

‘It’s the will of the gods after all.’ Geta would say.

‘And we wouldn’t want to displease them now would we?’ Caracalla would add with a cackle.

You had no say whatsoever but to agree to marry the brother emperors, which many didn’t bother to bat an eye of how curious a case this was, but again they too were under the belief that this was the will of the gods for the emperors to share a spouse for the betterment of their rule.

Both brothers thrive for your attention to be on them and they’d do anything to have it wherever and whenever they can, and all you could do was give them the attention that they so desire.

Hold them close to your chest, cradle them there and let them hear your heart and your breathing to smooth them in knowing that someone did love them, for being there for them as a safe haven from the frequent scheming of the senate and the betrayals and the constant needed to look over their shoulders to make sure no one was going to stab them in the back.

So being with you and held so closely like they deeply desired when before ascending the throne, made it all seem worth while if it meant being gifted the love that they so sought after in those they considered a close confidant within the senate, or just in general approval from the public they rule over.

Marriage life with Geta and Caracalla wasn’t easy, you didn’t expect it to in the slightest as you were constantly seen between the two emperors, draped in the finest of silks and jewellery they could find as to signal your beginning to them both, to show that you were on equal footing as your emperor husbands as your counsel was the one they often followed more often then not.

Does this mean they are rid of the concubines? Probably not and whether or not this was an issue for you is up for debate.

If it is then you’d naturally be questioning the loyalty of your emperor husbands in a fit of embarrassment and shame, not wanting to look a fool within your own marriage, especially not in front of the Roman public nor the senate that would try to whisper words of infidelity about Geta and Caracalla.

‘Am I not your spouse? You forced me into marriage with the two of you and yet you both still seek paid comfort.’ You’d spat as though it was venom in my mouth.

‘My love-‘

You’d glare at Geta who stopped short in his tracks as Caracalla watched you both with eerily silence.

‘If you are to seek paid comfort, then don’t expect none from me should you continue this route of self indulgence.’ You say before leaving the room, not once looking back as you returned to your shared chambers. Again you wouldn’t want to look a fool when your emperor husbands run to the arms of concubines, you were above it.

Let’s hypothetically say you have concubines yourself in retaliation, they’d unfortunately all be dead on the orders of Geta and Caracalla in a fit of rage.

Your marriage isn’t pretty nor romantic in the slightest, and I’m not trying to make it out to be like that, just only that your marriage to them both could be full of hypocrisy and jealousy and sometimes accusations of cheating would arise also as a result.

It’s a mess and wouldn’t get sorted unless your three are clear headed and clam enough to talk it out like healthy lovers should. And when it does get sorted, you all act as though everything that had come to this point of peace didn’t happen at all, as soon enough you were back to holding the emperor brothers again your chest as they slept.

Due to being their spouse you naturally had a target on your back, so it would be of no surprise that you were to be the intended victim for an assignation attempt by shadowy figures hiding their identities in the background.

Shadowy figures that wanted you dead as to kill any sort of morale the emperor brothers had by taken what’s theirs.

Let’s say you survive the attempt, make no mistake that your emperor husbands would be by your side immediately, anger and fury written as clear as day across their faces as they had you pressed between the two of them, they’d whispered hushed words into your ears about finding who did this to you and killing them publicly to show their intolerance to attempts on their spouse.

Your emperor husbands would make sure you were constantly guarded no matter what afterwards, killing those who didn’t do their duty and replacing them with new guards that would keep you safe when they were with the senate, or in the study.

They become insufferably clingy and overprotective afterwards that it felt suffocating to be in the same room with them being so close to you, it was overwhelming and they’d even have people test whenever or not your drink and or food was tampered with as extra precaution.

You understood their worries to an extent but if it’s been a good while since the attempt, then you find it unnecessary to continue such tight and overbearing conditions they had put in place. So it’s best to speak with them about that for paranoia had overtaken them both with the ideas that you’d be killed or taken even if they were to even dare blink.

Being married to Geta and Caracalla was chaos incarnate, discord and mayhem disguised in gold, jewellery and expensive silks and lavished lifestyles; a perfect facade to cover the true nature of their own unravelling beneath the mask they’ve made to get by as rulers of a powerful empire ever known.

[cheemscakecat]

I high-key think the reason Shifty even wanted the journal so bad and tied Fiddleford up is that he overheard talk about freezing him.

Maybe Ford wasn’t there and it was Mcgucket muttering about it to himself, not thinking Shifty was sapient and understood words.

Imagine living in the same room as the cryogenic chambers, not knowing what they are, and then finding out its freezes living things and you’re the lab rat? The scientist that looks at you like you’re gross and doesn’t like being around you very much said so himself.

And you’ve seen that the nice scientist won’t show you his face, or his journal, or let you go outside. The scientists haven’t put anything in the big tubes in your room, there’s no other test subjects. Maybe the mean scientist is right, maybe they are going to put you in the tube and freeze you!

What’s going to happen to you if they do? You don’t know if the freeze would kill you, you don’t know if it’s meant to keep you alive or not. So you panic.

[Like imagine living in here. Depressing.]

Shifty didn’t stuff Mcgucket into a cabinet and mimic him to be evil, he did it so he could get the journal and find out what the scientist’s true intentions were. Maybe he hoped it wasn’t true, because Stanford was so nice to him. He knew the book held the answers, Ford was writing and reading it in front of him. About him.

Fiddleford was obviously traumatized, but Stanford didn’t mention any injuries. Shifty probably did take his big scary form for the first time when catching Mcgucket, but I don’t think he was actually physically attacked.

The shapeshifter probably would have panicked and tried to escape the bunker if he did read the journal pages, not try to hurt Ford and Fiddleford. It sounds like he was more anxious and scared than anything.

“His throat really did sound awful, but I told him to simply use the cough drops in the first aid cabinet. He grew increasingly insistent that only the journal had the answer.”

”The ‘impostor’ F had been waiting impatiently, shaking involuntarily in his chair. I noticed that his ‘hands’ were so strong they had bent the steel in the armrests.”

”He darted off for the journal, and the instant he stepped inside the cryogenics tube, I slammed the red button, trapping him in. HE SCREAMED and took on a form I’d never seen. He pounded on the glass and froze before my eyes.”

I wouldn’t say Ford abused Shifty, but he and Fiddleford saw the poor kid as an animal and not a sapient alien. They didn’t understand that they were traumatizing a child. They had a right not to want the shapeshifter to mimic them, and to be cautious about it.

Shifty wasn’t in the wrong or “nuts”, he was a kid that panicked and did something reckless because he found out he was being used as a test subject. He didn’t understand why Mcgucket was repulsed by him and his powers, he didn’t understand why humans would be so quick to assume the worst about a shapeshifter.

That being said, Stanford went all over the multiverse, meeting aliens and ending up in worlds where humans aren’t the dominant species. His ideas about sapience have changed over 30 years, regardless of whether or not he ever met more of Shifty’s species.

I think he’d come back to the bunker next summer, because between Stan’s memory loss and Bill’s cursed book, there wasn’t time to try and patch things up with Shifty.

As for Fiddleford, I think his trauma would be an obstacle when it comes to the shapeshifter, but it wouldn’t be impossible for him to understand Shifty better. He lived around other anomalies for 30 years, and got more used to them.

Maybe Shifty unthawed a bit during Weirdmaggedon, when Mcgucket was in the bunker. I think unthawing would be a painful and slow process, and that Fiddleford would be able to see that. Perhaps he decided to speed up the unthawing process instead of repairing the freezing mechanisms. Maybe he was also the one to remind Stanford about Shifty the next year.

People who say Ford abused the shapeshifter, what.

I just read those pages. Fiddleford immediately wanted to freeze him, but Ford wrote, “I've grown attached to the creature.” He wasn't like OH ☝️ I must TORTURE this thing POST HASTE! He found a weird creature while digging and hand fed it some beans. The shapeshifter didn't show signs of being dangerous (besides "watch your fingers")

Ford named him Shifty and did experiments, which involved seeing what forms he could take by showing him a book of animals, and he upgraded his kennel when he grew. Ford considered him a pet, but noted that Fiddleford being raised as a farmhand made him unsentimental toward what he saw as “livestock.”

Ford continued to take care of him until Shifty went nuts and tied Fiddleford up to take his place and steal journal 3. Even as Ford froze the shapeshifter for their safety, he wrote that he felt remorseful for having to freeze his former pet, but even worse that he'd been fooled - and that Fiddleford had paid the price

[mmso-notlikethat]

What You Wanted, What I Needed

Bucktommy Ι WC 4.3k Ι M Ι Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fix-it (if you want it to be) Ι cw: Dubious Consent this is inspired from this post .. Ooh look another Drunk!Tommy fic 😶‍🌫️

[Below or on ao3]

The bar was loud and crowded, the kind of place where people disappeared into the noise and shadows. Tommy sat hunched over the counter, nursing what must have been his third—or maybe fourth—whiskey of the night, after a couple of beers. His face was flushed, his shirt slightly untucked, and his metallic eyes heavy-lidded from a haze of alcohol and exhaustion.

“Hey there, handsome,” a voice said, low and syrupy.

Tommy turned his head sluggishly to see a man sliding onto the stool next to him. The guy was tall, with dark hair slicked back, and he wore a cocky smirk that immediately set Tommy on edge.

He sighed, the sound almost defeated. “Not interested,” he mumbled, his words slurring slightly as he turned back to his drink.

The man chuckled, unfazed. “Aw, come on. You don’t even know what I’m offering yet.”

Tommy frowned, blinking blearily at the whiskey in his glass. “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered. “I’m not interested.”

The man leaned closer, resting his elbow on the counter and angling his body toward Tommy. “You look like you’ve had a rough night. Maybe I can help you forget about it.”

Tommy’s lips twitched into a faint, humorless smile. “Yeah? You got a time machine in your pocket?”

The man laughed, though there was a sharpness to it. “No, but I’ve got other things that might help.” He leaned in further, his voice dropping to something more intimate. “What’s got you so down, huh? Work? Love life? You can talk to me.”

Tommy shook his head slowly, his movements uncoordinated. “I don’t wanna talk,” he said flatly.

“Then maybe we don’t have to talk,” the man replied, his tone suggestive.

Tommy finally looked at him, his expression half-annoyed, half-bemused. “You don’t take a hint, do you?”

The man smirked, undeterred. “Not when I see something I like.”

Tommy sighed again, rubbing a hand over his face. “I just want to drink, alright? Alone.”

“Drinking alone is no fun,” the man countered, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Besides, I can see it in your eyes. You don’t really want to be alone. Not tonight.”

Tommy frowned, something tightening in his chest at the words. He didn’t reply, his gaze dropping back to his drink.

The man took his silence as an invitation, shifting closer until their arms nearly brushed. “Come on, don’t play hard to get. I know what you want.”

Tommy stiffened, his discomfort growing. “I said no,” he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual strength.

The man’s eyes flicked down, and his smirk widened. “Yeah, sure. You’re saying no, but your body’s saying yes.” He nodded toward the faint outline of a bulge in Tommy’s pants.

Tommy flushed, embarrassment mingling with frustration. “That’s not—”

Before he could finish, the man’s hand was on his thigh, squeezing lightly as he leaned in.

“Relax,” the guy murmured, his lips brushing against Tommy’s ear. “Let me take care of you.”

Tommy froze, his body stiffening as the man pressed a hard, insistent kiss to his lips. His sluggish mind struggled to keep up, the alcohol dulling his instincts and making him feel disconnected from his own body.

The man tugged at his arm, pulling him off the stool with surprising force. “Come on,” he said, his voice low and coaxing. “Let’s find somewhere more private.”

“Wait—no, I—” Tommy stammered, his voice weak and unconvincing as the man began steering him toward the bathrooms.

“Shh,” the man murmured, a smug grin curling his lips as he pressed Tommy against the wall just outside the hallway leading to the bathrooms. “You’re overthinking it.”

Tommy’s hands came up, palms weakly pressing against the man’s chest. “I’m not—just stop, alright?”

But the man didn’t stop. Instead, he leaned in, capturing Tommy’s mouth in a hard, forceful kiss. The pressure of his lips was overwhelming, silencing Tommy’s protests as the man’s hand slid down to grip his ass firmly.

Tommy let out a muffled sound of protest, his hands pushing harder against the man’s chest, but his strength was fleeting. The alcohol coursing through his veins left his movements sluggish and uncoordinated, his mind hazy and slow to react.

“Relax,” the man said against his lips, his free hand sliding under the hem of Tommy’s untucked shirt to graze the bare skin of his lower back. “You’re just nervous. I’ll make it good for you.”

Tommy turned his head, breaking the kiss as he shook it weakly. “No… I don’t want—”

The man silenced him again, this time by nipping at the side of his jaw, his lips trailing down to the sensitive spot just below Tommy’s ear. His grip on Tommy’s ass tightened, pulling their bodies closer together.

Tommy’s breathing hitched sharply, a soft, involuntary moan escaping his lips as the man’s teeth grazed his skin. His head spinning not just from the alcohol but from the intensity of the moment. His body felt disconnected from his mind, and his protests faltered. For a fleeting moment, he stopped resisting, his hands dropping limply to his sides.

The sound seemed to spur the man on. He smirked against his neck, sensing the shift. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice smug and coaxing. “I knew you wanted this. Just like that. Let it happen.”

Tommy shivered, his chest rising and falling unevenly. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol clouding his judgment or the overpowering weight of the man’s presence, but for a moment, he didn’t push back. His protests faltered as a wave of disoriented emotion surged through him. Desperate for something he couldn’t name. Maybe if he leaned into this—into him—it would quiet the ache. Tommy tilted his head back and leaned forward, pressing his lips to the man’s in a clumsy, uncoordinated kiss.

The man grinned against his lips, one hand sliding further down Tommy’s back while the other cupped his jaw to keep him close. “See?” he murmured, pulling back just enough to speak. “You’re into it. You don’t have to pretend anymore.”

One hand slid lower, undoing the button of Tommy’s jeans with practiced ease.

Tommy flinched at the action, his hands coming up weakly to push at the man’s chest. “Wait, uh—” he started, his voice barely above a whisper.

The man grabbed Tommy’s wrists with his free hand, pinning them against the wall beside his head. “Stop pretending,” he murmured, his voice low and smug. “You don’t have to play hard to get anymore.”

Tommy’s head lolled slightly, his eyes fluttering shut as confusion and exhaustion clouded his thoughts.

“Hey!”

The voice was sharp, cutting through the haze like a knife. The man froze, his hand stalling mid-movement as both he and Tommy turned toward the interruption.

The man stopped, his scowl deepening as someone tried to step between him and Tommy.

“Let him go.”

“What’s your problem, man?” the guy shot back, his grip still tight on Tommy’s waist. “Mind your business.”

The person didn’t flinch, their stance firm and unwavering. “He’s my business. And he said no. So, let him go. Now.”

The man scoffed, his sneer widening. “He’s into it. We’re just having a good time. Right?” He looked at Tommy, whose head lolled slightly as he struggled to focus.

Tommy blinked sluggishly, his body swaying as he processed the question. “Uh… yeah,” he mumbled, the words barely coherent.

The man smirked triumphantly, tightening his grip on Tommy’s arm.

But then, Tommy’s lips parted again, a faint flicker of recognition cutting through the haze as he murmured, barely audible, “Evan…?”

The man frowned, glancing back at the newcomer—Buck. “Fuck off. This has nothing to do with you.” His hand tightened on Tommy’s arm, trying to pull him away.

Tommy winced, his body swaying.

The tension in the air snapped.

“I said, let him go.” Buck’s voice was low and dangerous now, and before the man could react, his fist connected with his jaw in a clean, decisive punch.

The man staggered back, his hand flying up to his face as he let out a curse. “You son of a—”

“You’re done,” Buck snapped, his voice a sharp edge.

The man hesitated, his eyes darting between them. He muttered another curse, but this time he took a step back, rubbing his jaw before storming off into the crowd.

Tommy stumbled as the grip on his arm disappeared, but strong hands caught him before he could fall.

“Evan…?” Tommy slurred again, his voice barely above a whisper as he blinked up at the person now holding him steady.

Buck’s jaw tightened, his protective stance softening as he steadied Tommy with a firm grip. “Yeah, Tommy. It’s me.”

Buck’s eyes dropped briefly to Tommy’s disheveled appearance—his shirt untucked and his jeans still undone. Silently, Buck adjusted the hem of Tommy’s shirt, smoothing it back into place. Then, with careful, efficient movements, he fastened the button on Tommy’s jeans and pulled up the zipper. His touch was steady and unhurried. Tommy didn’t protest, his body leaning limply into Buck’s care.

“There,” Buck said softly, his hands brushing Tommy’s arms briefly. “Okay, Let’s get you out of here.”

*

The car ride was tense. Tommy leaned against the window, his face turned away from Buck.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Tommy muttered, his voice pouty and petulant.

Buck glanced at him briefly, frowning. “Do what?”

Tommy turned his head, his cheeks flushed. “Interfere. I had it under control.”

Buck let out a sharp breath, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. “He was dragging you to the bathrooms, Tommy. That’s not under control.”

Tommy pouted, his voice stubborn. “I wanted it.”

“No, you didn’t,” Buck said, his frustration slipping through.

“I did!” Tommy snapped, his voice cracking. “I wanted to feel something. You didn’t have to take it away.”

Buck glanced at him again, his voice dropping. “Tommy, he was taking advantage of you. I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

Tommy scoffed, his voice sharp and cutting. “What, couldn’t stand seeing me with someone else?”

Buck blinked, momentarily stunned. “What!” he snapped, his voice louder than he intended, before catching himself. His grip on the wheel tightened as he exhaled sharply, his tone more controlled now. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Tommy turned back to the window, pressing his forehead against the glass mumbling, “Maybe I wanted to be taken advantage of,” he mumbled, his voice quiet and bitter. “That’s what I’m good for anyway.”

Buck’s jaw clenched, his grip almost breaking the wheel as a wave of frustration and hurt washed over him. He said nothing for the rest of the drive.

*

Once inside Tommy’s house, Buck guided him to the couch. Tommy flopped onto the cushions with a heavy sigh, letting his head fall back. He stared up at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

“You don’t have to stay,” Tommy muttered, his voice thick with exhaustion and alcohol.

“I’m not leaving you until you sober up a little,” Buck said, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch and draping it over Tommy, who barely acknowledged it.

Tommy sat up suddenly, his movements unsteady and jerky. His glassy eyes locked onto Buck’s, and for a moment, he just stared at him. Then, his lips twisted into a bitter smile.

“Why not?” Tommy asked, his voice trembling. “Because you feel sorry for me?”

Buck crouched in front of him, resting his hands on his knees. His expression soft as he said quietly, “No, Tommy. Because I care about you.”

Tommy let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp and broken. “You care about me?” he echoed, his voice rising slightly. “Then why did you let me leave? Why’d you let me push you away?”

“Tommy,” Buck began, but Tommy cut him off.

“No!” Tommy snapped, his voice cracking. “Don’t give me that look again. I know, okay? I know I fucked it all up. I know I ruined everything!”

Buck’s heart ached at the raw pain in Tommy’s voice. He reached out, his hand hovering just inches away, but Tommy jerked back, clutching the edges of the blanket tightly. His hands shook, and his eyes darted away, unable to meet Buck’s gaze.

For a moment, Tommy sat in silence, his breaths uneven and shallow. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the blanket like a lifeline, his lips pressing into a thin line. Buck exhaled softly, standing up to give Tommy some space, his movements hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure what he should do.

Tommy’s gaze flickered toward him briefly, his expression unreadable before he looked away again. The quiet stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.

Then, Tommy’s voice broke the silence, barely above a whisper. “You took it from me,” he said, his tone fragile, as if the words themselves might shatter him.

Buck frowned, his brows knitting together. “What are you talking about?”

Tommy’s eyes filled with tears, and his voice cracked as he said, “That guy. You took him away, so—so give me this. Please.” His voice wavered, his tone desperate, as he reached out, his trembling hand brushing against the buckle of Buck’s belt.

Buck stared at him, stunned. “Tommy, no. That’s not—”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Tommy whispered, his voice breaking. His glassy eyes locked onto Buck’s, his desperation palpable. “No one has to know. Just… please.”

Buck froze, his breath catching as the weight of Tommy’s words crashed over him. His stomach churned, his heart breaking at the sheer hopelessness in Tommy’s voice.

“I’m sober now, I promise,” Tommy said suddenly, his voice shaking as he gripped Buck’s shirt with trembling hands. “I know what I’m saying. I do.”

Buck’s brow furrowed, his heart twisting at the clear lie. He gently caught Tommy’s wrist. “Tommy, stop. You’re not sober, and this isn’t about anyone else. It’s about you. You’re hurting, and—”

“Please, Evan,” Tommy interrupted, his voice cracking as his hands fisted in Buck’s shirt. His grip was tight, frantic, as though letting go would mean losing everything. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to take him away and leave me with nothing. Just—just give me this. Let me have this.”

Buck opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, Tommy surged forward, his hands gripping Buck’s shirt tightly. With surprising strength for someone so unsteady, Tommy tugged Buck downward, closing the distance between them and pressing their lips together in a desperate kiss.

For a moment, Buck froze. Then, against his better judgment, he leaned into the kiss, his hands landing lightly on Tommy’s hips. Tommy clung to him like he was drowning, his fingers twisting in Buck’s shirt as he deepened the kiss, pouring all his heartbreak and longing into it.

But then Buck’s mind caught up with his emotions. He felt the trembling in Tommy’s body, the dampness of the tears on his cheeks. This wasn’t right.

Buck pulled back slightly, his hands gently wrapping around Tommy’s wrists to lower them. “Tommy, stop, no,” he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion

Tommy shook his head, his tears falling freely now. “Why not?” he cried, his voice breaking. “Because I’m pathetic? Because I ruined everything?”

“No,” Buck said softly, cupping Tommy’s face. His thumbs brushed away the tears that streaked Tommy’s cheeks. “Because you deserve more than this. We both do.”

But Tommy wasn’t ready to give up. He clung to Buck’s shirt, his grip tight and frantic. “I need you,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Please, Evan. Just—just make me feel something. Anything.”

“Tommy…” Buck’s voice broke slightly, his own eyes starting to sting as he fought back the swell of emotion. “I can’t. Not like this.”

“Please,” Tommy whispered against his lips, his voice so weak it was almost inaudible. “I can’t—I can’t do this alone anymore.”

Buck’s breath hitched, his heart breaking at the desperation in Tommy’s voice. “You don’t have to,” he murmured. “I’m here Tommy.”

Tommy let out a choked sob, collapsing against Buck’s chest. “I don’t know how to fix it,” he whispered, his words muffled against Buck’s shirt. “I don’t know how to fix me.”

Buck’s arms instinctively wrapped around him, holding him close, but before he could respond, Tommy tilted his head up. His warm, uneven breath brushed against Buck’s neck.

“I just—I feel so broken,” Tommy murmured, his lips grazing Buck’s skin as he spoke. His hands slid up Buck’s chest. “You make it better, Evan. You always made it better. Just… let me have this.”

Buck froze as he felt Tommy press a soft, lingering kiss to the side of his neck.

“Please,” Tommy whispered, his voice trembling. His lips moved against Buck’s skin, trailing kisses up toward his jaw. “I need you. Just for tonight. Please…”

“Tommy,” Buck said, his voice breaking, a mixture of pain and restraint. “This isn’t the way. You know it’s not.”

Tommy ignored him, his tears still falling as he clung to Buck with desperate strength. “Why not?” he whispered, repeating the question again and again, his voice cracking. “Why not me? Why can’t I be enough for you?”

Buck pulled back slightly, cupping Tommy’s face in his hands to make him stop. “That’s not what this is about, Tommy. You are enough. You’ve always been enough.”

Tommy shook his head, his teary eyes locking onto Buck’s. “Then why did you leave? Why didn’t you fight for me? For us?”

Buck’s heart ached at the raw vulnerability in Tommy’s words, but a flicker of anger rose at the unfairness of his accusation, tightening his jaw. “I didn’t leave,” he said quietly. “You’re the one who left, Tommy. And it killed me, but I swallowed it—because I thought it’s what you wanted.”

Tommy’s lip trembled, and he tried to lean in again, his mouth brushing against Buck’s. “Then take me back,” he pleaded. “Take me back, Evan. I’ll do better. I’ll be better. Just—just don’t leave me alone.”

Buck caught his hands, stopping him before their lips could meet. “Tommy,” he said, his voice firm but trembling slightly. “I can’t—not like this. You’re hurting, and you’re not thinking straight. I won’t take advantage of this. You mean too much to me.” He paused, his eyes shining with unshed tears as he added, “Tomorrow, if you still want to—if you remember—we’ll talk. Properly. You and I will fix things.”

Tommy let out a strangled sob, burying his face in Buck’s shoulder. “I don’t know how to fix it—me,” he repeated, his voice breaking. “I don’t even know where to start. I keep trying, and I keep failing. I’m so tired, Evan. I’m so tired of failing.”

Buck’s arms tightened around him, his hand running soothingly up and down Tommy’s back. “You don’t have to fix everything tonight,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You don’t have to do it alone, either.”

Tommy clung to him like a lifeline, his fingers digging into Buck’s back as he cried quietly. “I just want to be enough for someone,” he whispered, his voice raw. “For you.”

Buck pulled back slightly, brushing the tears from Tommy’s cheeks with his thumbs. “Tommy, you’ve always been enough,” he said softly. “You just have to believe it.”

Tommy closed his eyes, leaning into Buck’s touch. For the first time that night, he stopped trying to fight or plead. He let out a shaky breath as his body relaxed slightly in Buck’s embrace, though his breathing hitched unevenly. His sobs grew quieter but more erratic, his body still trembling with the weight of his emotions.

Eventually, exhaustion took over. Between the waves of violent sobbing, Tommy began to doze off, his grip on Buck’s shirt loosening but not letting go entirely. Even in sleep, his body shuddered occasionally, and soft, broken sobs escaped his lips.

Buck stayed with him, his arms still wrapped securely around Tommy, offering what comfort he could. He watched as Tommy’s tears continued to slip down his cheeks, even in sleep.

Buck’s heart ached, a deep, overwhelming weight pressing against his chest. He leaned his forehead against Tommy’s for a moment, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered , his voice breaking. “I’m sorry for everything—what happened tonight, that guy and what he tried to do, for not seeing how much you’ve been hurting, for not being there when you needed me most.”

After a while, Buck gently shifted Tommy onto the couch, making sure he was lying comfortably. He tucked the blanket around him, brushing stray strands of hair from his tear-streaked face.

Tommy stirred slightly, his lips parting to mumble something. A soft sob escaped him, even in his unconscious state.

Buck stood there for a moment, watching him. The sight was almost too much to bear. Finally, he turned and quietly slipped out of the house, leaving a glass of water and a folded note on the coffee table.

*

Tommy woke up on the couch, his head pounding like a drum and his mouth as dry as sandpaper. A dull ache radiated behind his eyes, making him squint against the faint light streaming in through the window. His stomach churned violently, the nausea hitting him hard and fast.

He spotted a glass of water and a neatly folded note on the coffee table, but before he could even reach for them, his body lurched, and he barely had time to scramble off the couch. Stumbling toward the bathroom, he gripped the doorframe as he heaved into the toilet, his entire body trembling from the effort.

When it finally subsided, he sank back against the wall, his breathing ragged. “For fuck’s sake,” he muttered to himself, his voice hoarse. “ugh at 40, I have to stop drinking. At all.”

The sour taste in his mouth only added to the misery, and he wiped his face with the back of his hand before dragging himself back toward the couch, eyeing the water like it was a lifeline.

He collapsed onto the cushions, letting his head fall back with a groan. The pounding in his skull hadn’t subsided, but it wasn’t just the hangover gnawing at him. Flashes of the previous night flickered in his mind—disjointed and hazy, but heavy enough to make his chest tighten.

He leaned forward carefully, his hands trembling as he reached for the folded note. His name stared back at him in Buck’s familiar handwriting.

Tommy, Get some rest and drink plenty of water. Call me if you need anything. but Tommy... please don’t call me if you don’t remember last night, or if you didn’t mean the things you said. - Buck Evan

He stared at the note, more fragments of the night before flashing through his mind. Buck’s arms around him, his steady voice grounding him, the gentle way he wiped away his tears. The memory made his chest ache, but it also sparked something else—a flicker of warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time.

But then other memories surfaced—hazy and disjointed, but vivid enough to twist his stomach. The man at the bar, his smug grin, and the way Tommy had clung to him, desperate to feel anything that might fill the emptiness inside. He remembered Buck stepping in, the sharp sound of his voice, and the flash of anger in his eyes.

And then—Tommy swallowed hard—the way he’d begged Buck, the way he’d reached for him, grasping at something he couldn’t name, pleading for something Buck couldn’t give. Shame curled in his chest, tangling with the lingering ache of loneliness and regret.

He let out a shaky breath, staring at the note again. Buck had been there. He’d stayed, even when Tommy had fallen apart. But had he stayed out of care… or obligation? The thought gnawed at him, leaving him feeling exposed.

His gaze drifted back to the glass of water on the table, the simplest of gestures that felt heavier than it should. He picked it up and took a few sips, the cool liquid doing little to soothe the dryness in his throat or the weight in his chest.

Fragments of the night before continued to flicker through his mind, uninvited and relentless. The man at the bar, his smug touch. The desperate words he’d hurled at Buck. The way Buck had looked at him—not with pity, but something deeper, steadier.

Tommy rubbed a hand over his face, groaning softly. What if Buck regretted staying? What if the note was just a polite way of drawing a line? The thought made his stomach twist.

And yet, despite the shame, despite the uncertainty, the pull to hear Buck’s voice was stronger.

Tommy reached for his phone, his hands trembling slightly. His thumb hovered over Buck’s name in his contacts. He hesitated, the words he wanted to say swirling in his mind but refusing to settle.

Finally, he typed:

Hey, coffee? Our regular place?

He stared at the message for a long moment, his heart pounding as he debated whether to press send. His finger hovered over the button, and then, with a deep breath, he tapped it.

The message sent, and he immediately felt a wave of nerves wash over him. What if Buck didn’t respond? What if last night had been too much? What if he’d just made everything worse?

But before he could spiral further, his phone buzzed in his hand.

Of course.

Tommy blinked, staring at the reply. It had come almost instantly, and the simplicity of it made his chest tighten, an ache that was equal parts relief and uncertainty.

He exhaled shakily, a small, hesitant smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

It wasn’t much. It wasn’t a declaration or a promise to fix everything. But it was something…

A step forward.

[honeyedfate]

operation: no hate, just date | 심재윤

pairing. jake sim x idol!gf!reader

the objective is clear—make both of your fans believe that you and jake, in fact, don’t hate each other by convincing them that you’re actually in love. which you are. sadly, jake doesn’t get to shout it from the rooftops like he desperately wants to. instead he’s trapped in an elaborate plan that’s moving at a snail’s pace, but one night on weverse with the boys might speed things up.

genre. fluff & very very mildly suggestive

a/n. this is the second part to loverboy! you can read it by itself if u want but it might be more fun if u don’t lol enjoy! x

it’s been a week since jake and you were pulled aside and shoved into a meeting room where an unforeseen entourage informed him that he sucks at being your boyfriend but makes for a great arch nemesis. he had left that intervention feeling annoyed and his privacy violated, but at least they had a plan. whether that plan is a good one is still up for debate.

grey sweater guy from pr keeps responding to yuki’s plentiful emails with stupid roundabouts of how patience is a virtue and playing the long game always benefits the player. the problem is jake has no patience, and the only person who seems to get it is you.

which is likely why even after the fourth facetime call of the day, his darling-angel of a girlfriend has yet to tell him to piss off. he keeps peeking at his phone, which he has propped up against his pillow, only to begrudgingly return to his scattered lego set, positive he’ll crash out if he doesn’t hear your voice soon.

when the call finally connects and you appear on the screen, it’s like watching the sun rise. jake can feel the tension leaving his body and a lopsided smile curving over his lips. he’s hopeless, really.

you grin through the phone, hands in your hair as you tie it back, and say by way of greeting, “yunjin showed me a tiktok earlier.”

abandoning whatever he was building, jake scoots closer to his phone. “what was it about?”

“us, of course,” you say cheerily, and jake swears his heart skips a beat. not because he’s anxious of what you’re about to say but because it happens every time you refer to him and you as an item. an entity. it’s embarrassing but he kind of likes it. he likes being an idiot for you.

“someone put together a bunch of clips of everything we’ve been doing this week and it blew up on twitter.” you gently rub your oil cleanser over your face.

jake perks up at your words. he didn’t think anyone would’ve noticed any of the stuff he was told to do as part of the stupid plan. an unsettling concoction of excitement and terror swirls in his stomach. “what did they say?” he asks, fiddling with a lego piece.

you take a moment to wipe off your eye makeup, scrunching your nose when jake calls you a panda. “apparently people have been noticing how close we stood on the encore stage and that we kept looking at each other. it’s funny—i didn’t realise in that moment, but when i watched it back it looked like you’re either creeping up on me or you’re extremely terrified.”

jake tilts his head. “terrified of what? you?” he furrows his brows. “i just looked at you a couple of times like they told us to.”

“i know you did.” you turn off the faucet and grab a towel to dry off your face, trying to keep the amusement in your voice at bay. “but, babe, you’re either staring me down—unblinking—or you’re casting glances at me like you’re scared i’ll turn around and jump you.” you can’t help but giggle. “someone commented, ‘i can’t tell if jake is contemplating if he should push y/n off the stage or if he should throw himself off it.’”

jake gawks at you with his mouth agape. “that’s what they’re saying?”

you nod. he falls backward with a groan and covers his faces with his arms. “i can’t believe it. that’s what it looked like to them? really?”

“i know.” you say, more amused than empathetic.

“that’s crazy,” he says, pushing himself upright again, hair sticking out even messier than it had before. “i’m actively trying to act like a lovesick fool—which i am! don’t even—and people still think i’m trying to break your neck? that’s insane.”

you hum supportively. “at least some people believe you were offering to break your own neck for me. that’s romantic, right? we might be on the right track here.” you keep your tone playful, but jake looks at you with his starry eyes and pouty lips, resembling nothing short of a kicked puppy.

“i’m sorry i keep messing this up,” he says and the thinness in his voice makes your heart break.

“jake, you’re not messing anything up.” he looks at his hands, avoiding your gaze. “you can’t control these things, people will interpret and perceive it however they like. it’s always been this way, and it’s always been out of our control. doesn’t mean it’s your fault.”

“i don’t know, y/n,” he says quietly, and the sight of him hanging his head has you nearly sneaking out of the dorms and going over to his. you’ve never seen him look this miserably at a lego set before. “if i wasn’t so awkward and knew what to do, we wouldn’t even be in this mess.”

“no one’s perfect and all-knowing.” you pick up your phone with a frown. “and why do you keep calling it a mess? is that what you think this is?” you enter your room and get into your bed. jake looks up at the sounds of your blanket and wishes desperately he was there with you.

instead, he loosens a breath and sweeps the lego pieces onto the manual, placing it on the floor and going under the blanket as well. “what else should i call it?” he says. “it’s not a blessing.”

you ponder his words. “a mess would be our sex tape getting leaked or people making up rumours that we’re drug dealers or cannibals.”

jake cocks his head. “like hannibal?”

“i meant more like in ‘bones and all’ but sure.”

“oh.” he scratches his face. “well, we’re neither of those things. we also don’t have a sex tape.” the corner of his mouth quirks up.

“no, we don’t.” you pout, forcing a mock sigh. “but we could always make one? ‘operation: no hate, no date,’ am i right?” you waggle your eyebrows at him, prompting a wry smile to flicker across his face.

“they’ll watch it and come to the conclusion that i hate you even more.”

you huff a laugh. “we will probably also get kicked out of hybe and have to start slinging fishcakes on the street. which sounds like fun, to be honest. oh! we could make our own jingle and sing it for our customers. maybe we won’t even have to make the fishcakes if we’re successful enough.”

this earns you a laugh. “that’s just busking, baby. what you want to do is busk.”

you gasp in fake surprise before settling for a rueful sigh. “i am but an artist.”

jake presses his lips together as if to say ‘good riddance, what tragic calling’ with a saddened face before the two of you dissolve into giggles.

“okay, i get it.” he turns to lie on his side, face squished against his pillow. “going from idol to man with leaked sex tape who sings on the street and runs an unsuccessful fishcake stand would be a mess. but this is not?”

“correct.”

“i’m so relieved then.” he grins toothily at you and, of course, you reciprocate it. an involuntarily yawn slips through your lips and jake coos at you.

“is my girl tired after working hard all day?”

“she’s exhausted,” you affirm with bleary eyes. “you seem chipper for someone who’s usually drooling on his pillow by midnight.”

jake shrugs. “i’m not sleepy yet.”

you hold back another yawn. “do you want me to stay awake until you are?”

he smiles at you fondly, relishing in the softness of your drowsy voice. “it’s all right. you should go to sleep, baby.” he glances at the clock on his phone. “i think i’ll go live for a bit. haven’t done one in a while.”

“aren’t we feeling chatty tonight,” you tease, eyes fully closed now. jake swears he actually dies at how cute you look and smashes that screenshot button repeatedly. “i’ll leave you to it then. greet engenes for me.”

he grimaces. “if i do that, you’ll get your jingle and fishcake dreams fulfilled by tomorrow morning because we’ll both be unemployed.”

“sounds lovely.” you rub your eyes.

“yeah,” jake merely whispers, attention span momentarily off the rails as his doting gaze traces your face. he takes another screenshot for good measure. “good night, pretty girl,” he says tenderly, raspy voice and all. “see you tomorrow for the dance challenge and the fishcakes.”

a giggle bubbles out of you, and you crack your eyes open to offer your best, dozy smile. “and the busking. don’t forget the busking.”

“i would never. i’ll even steal one of jay’s guitars.”

you nod, pleased. “we’ll be on the run like bonnie and clyde. except for all the atrocities, of course.”

jake helplessly swoons. “i love you.”

“i love you too. good night, baby.”

the intensity at which his pulse quickens and his stomach tumbles needs to be studied because it should not be humanly possible to be so goddamn whipped. he’s not ashamed to admit that he could write lines upon lines of poetry right now just to ode your every quality and marvel at the curve of your mouth.

again, hopeless. but he’s more than okay with it.

so what if he flips onto his stomach right after the call ends, smiling blissfully into his pillow and kicking his feet? he might not be a lover boy, but he is in love.

with that same crooked smile that is probably etched onto his face forever, he opens the weverse app on his phone and opts for a voice live. as the first few people pool in, he gets lost in mindless chatter. it’s always nice to do lives at night. mainly because they make him drowsy.

at some point, he gets up for the bottle on his desk, hoping that chugging some water will wake him up. but when he returns to his bed and glances at his phone, comments keep flooding in at a speed that make them very hard to read.

“what’s this?” he chuckles nervously. “what happened? i just went to get some water.”

enhaswife: jungwon is live!! go live with him plss

sim hitomi: jungwonnie is live~~

xo, liz: CAN U GO LIVE WITH JUNGWON ‼️

“jungwonnie is live?” jake raises a brow. “that’s actually pretty early for him. it’s not even one yet.” he settles back into his bed. “i was here first though, so you guys have to tell him to come. tell him to come send a request.”

he watches the number of viewers decline rapidly, all of them seemingly leaving to do his bidding. he wields too much power and it might actually go to his head, he thinks to himself in amusement. “i told him,” he reads out loud. “i told him, he’s coming, i told him. you guys are so cute.”

not long after, the request pops up and jake is quick to accept it. his screen splits in two before jungwon’s eager face appears before him.

“yooiii,” jake greets him with a wide smile.

“yoooiiii,” jungwon practically shouts into his phone with excitement that is more appropriate for daylight hours. “what’s this? why aren’t you showing your face, hyung? are you naked?”

“what?” jake guffaws, adjusting his phone. “no, my hair’s just all over the place. engenes don’t need to see me like this.”

“oh, okay.” jungwon nods understandably as his eyes flit over the computer screen before him. the song that’s currently playing in the background changes to a more calm melody, and jake sinks further into his blanket, nearly letting out a moan at how snug he feels. “he’s bald, by the way.”

jake jolts so hard he nearly tumbles out of his bed.

“jungwon!” he watches as the comments explode into chaos. “oh my god, what have you done.”

the younger boy ignores him. “ni-ki shaved his head after practice, you know. he got the clippers from hair and makeup and went right at it. they weren’t too happy about it, but it went well. thankfully, i am so happy to announce that our hyung does not have an egghead.”

jake burst out laughing, glimpsing how jungwon’s smile expands with delight when he hears it. “i nearly lost an ear, but yes. all’s good.”

“he gave his hair to jay,” jungwon continues for no apparent reason except to bring jay into this. “he put it in a nice ziplock bag and gave it to him. jay almost cried. he was really touched.”

jake is clutching his sides, trying to keep his laughter down. before he can speak, a highlighted message pops up in the comments.

JAY: Ya! Why are you ruining my image

JAY: When jake gave me his bag of hair I wept

JAY: I wept.

JAY: Get your facts straight punk

“hyung!” jungwon says delightfully. “you’re here too. what’s going on, why are we all awake? is this a party?”

“it’s just us three here,” jake remarks, still chuckling. “what party only has three guests?”

jungwon shrugs. “i’ve never been to one.”

JAY: Me neither

jake cups his neck, deciding to join them despite the fact that there are plenty of pictures of them at several afterparties. “me neither.”

JAY: Wow

“wooow,” jungwon echoes, lips tugging into a smirk. jake frowns. did he miss something? before he can address it, a comment stands out to him.

“yes, we are a sad bunch,” he says jokingly in response to it. “you’re breaking my heart, engenes. no need to rub it in.”

jungwon snickers. “these comments are so fun tonight. i usually only get song recommendations. seriously, what’s happening? where are all my engenes who ask me to play chamber 5 for the eighth time?”

JAY: It’s because I’m here

JAY: I bring the smart ones

JAY: Also can you play chamber 5

“it’s my live.” jake scoffs when he reads jay’s comments. “they were here before you two came, and we always have very stimulating discussions.”

that’s not true. earlier’s heated topic of conversation was whether a tiger or a tiger shark would win in a fight. but jungwon and jay don’t need to know that.

“oh, hey, we’re tripple j,” jake randomly observes while suppressing a yawn.

“we are!” jungwon says enthusiastically. “the moment jay came in, all the comments were saying tripple j. imagine if all of our names started with a j. septuple j!”

JAY: Junghoon

JAY: Jeeseung, junoo, ji-ki

JAY: Annyeonghasaeyo, jenhypen-imnida

jake snorts. he glances at the time and lets another yawn overtake him. “guys, i think i’ll go to sleep. i can barely hold my eyes open.”

“i was waiting for you to say that,” jungwon quips.

“oh?” jake pushes himself up to fluff his pillow. “why? do i sound tired?”

JAY: Ow hay weor wibble j

jake furrows his brows, nearly suffering a stroke trying to read that. “hah. you’re funny.”

JAY: yoar wonny

“ahjussi, please go to bed,” jake says fondly and pulls his blanket up to his ears, letting it almost swallow him. “you’re talking gibberish again.”

JAY: :(((

jungwon ignores them, typing away on his keyboard. “i think i’ll continue my live for a bit if engenes want to join me.”

“yes, keep him company, guys.” jake yawns once more and quickly skims the comments one last time. his mind has become delirious, not really making sense of any of the words on his screen. he’s no longer thinking straight. he’s not thinking, period. which might be why his focus zeroes in on your name as it passes by.

he scrolls back up, looking for it, and finds himself reading it out loud without a second thought.

“do you want me to fight y/n for you?”

he lets his arm fall over his eyes with a funny expression on his face that no one can see and that he’s not even aware of. a mental image of you occupies half of his mind while the other half has simply shut off.

chuckling, he replies, “nah, i can take her.”

it goes quiet in the room as jake’s breathing evens out and jungwon’s typing slows down.

“hyung,” he says with emphasis, a warning tone laced in his voice. jake blinks an eye open, way too tired to grasp the gravity of what he has done. jungwon, on the other hand, is close to breaking out in hives as the comments go ballistic.

jay is not of much help either. he has left the live to message the group chat, asking if they’re now in trouble and if they’re going to kidnap you and jake again. from what jungwon can gauge based on the rapid fire notifications he’s getting, jay’s coming in clutch with quotes and screenshots of the comments, and heeseung’s immediate reaction is to cackle away.

enhaswife2: wiat whaT DID HE JUST SAY

myseven: oh REALLY >:( y/n count ur days

sunoo’s gf: you sure about that? I can fight

xiiuu7: leave y/n to me, i can handle her for you

jake reads the comments through fluttering eyes, somehow finding it all very entertaining. “oh, i take her just fine, thanks.” he rolls onto his stomach, eyes closed, smiling like an idiot, and mutters into his pillow, “i’ve handled her in more ways you can—”

his door slams open.

not a second later, jungwon stands before him in his pyjamas and snatches his phone out of his hands, breathing heavily. it lands next to jake on his pillow with a thud. screen now black.

“hyung, have you gone mad?!” jungwon stares down at him in bewilderment, his own phone in his hand lightening up every microsecond. “are you actually insane? why would you say that into the microphone?”

jake blinks up at him. “what?”

another person joins them. “what’s going on?” sunoo’s socked feet pad over the floor as he pulls down his headphones, regarding the two of them carefully. “i heard doors slamming.”

wordlessly, jungwon passes him his unlocked phone. it’s opened to a twitter account transcribing and translating in real time what had just been said on their live, including jake’s slurred but still perfectly understandable words. in other words, stan twitter is going insane.

sunoo gasps, eyes widening with each tweet as he scrolls and scrolls and scrolls. he’s reading all kinds of things—engenes who are losing it and speaking of you, your group, and your fans as if there’ll be a sword fight at dawn.

your fans who are thoroughly disoriented and confused but ready to go for blood anyway because ‘what does he MEAN he can take her?? take her WHERE?????’

and people who don’t even listen to either group but are dying over the comedic timing of jake uttering those words, jungwon hurling himself out of his chair, his footsteps thumping in the hallway, the doors banging, and the live ending all under two minutes.

some people also seem to believe that jake is bald for some reason? sunoo shakes his head in disbelief. it’s like the internet has been bored for too long, and this has revived them.

an eternity must’ve passed now, and jungwon is still lecturing a very sleepy jake whose words and actions have finally caught up to him when sunoo suddenly yelps. he practically tosses the phone in the air, and both boys turn to their attention to him. with a gulp, sunoo flips the screen around and holds it at an arm’s length.

“yuki is calling.”

jungwon exchanges a look with jake before he grabs his phone. “hello?” he says, clearing his throat. sunoo leans in to try and listen. jake, on the other hand, stays frozen on his bed, not even daring to breathe.

a heavy sigh sounds on the other line. “jungwon?”

“…yes?”

“there’s a change of plans.”

[fgumi]

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 my youth is free: to a fresh start

warning(s); written with a word count of 2,018

it didn’t matter if you knew donghyun for 6 years or dated him for 5. he always managed to give you butterflies, every single time. whether or not the butterflies you’re feeling now are good ones or just your breakfast threatening to spit back up, you’re not sure. you rounded the corner, taking a deep breath and counting to 10, before entering the cafe that used to be donghyun’s favorite casual date spot. or, maybe it still is his favorite spot. you shouldn’t speculate. clear heart, open mind.

you looked around and saw donghyun sitting in the center, right by the large fish tank that the cafe had as a divider. crazy how he always managed to get the most coveted spot in this large cafe.

his gaze followed one of the whiptail catfishes moving towards your direction. you guess that you caught the corner of his eyes because he straightened up and gave you a small wave.

oh crap. this is really happening. one foot over the other, y/n. breathe in, breathe out. it’s just donghyun. you know him. you’ve loved him for the past 5 years. you’ve been best friends for 6 years. he’s not going to suddenly turn into a stranger.

as you got closer, you took note of his glowy skin and warm eyes. good. he’s okay. well, i guess he would be okay. he broke up with you. are you okay? you’d like to think so. these past months weren’t all good. during the first month, you really did cry on your brother’s shoulder every night. woonhak was so patient with you, being so mature and wise. he even acted girly pop for you, so you could act like you’re venting to one of your girl friends who had grown frustrated with the topic.

but, little by little, you were able to face the day with a new appreciation. you attributed a lot of it to jaehyun and dongmin. their energy was infectious on and off the court. even without knowing about your recent breakup, they managed to be considerate of you and didn’t take offense when you shied away from them at times. on days where pick-up wasn’t in the cards for you, they’d understand and, sometimes, even offer to just hang out. it made you feel loved, despite them not saying it.

if the volleybrawlers (the name’s growing on you, you think) pulled you out of your sadness, you’d say dongmin gave you that final push towards normalcy. it wasn’t anything major, really. on the nights you found yourselves alone, your conversations would venture towards your past relationships and how they affected you. you found a lot of comfort from it. woonhak, for all that he tried, had never been in a relationship and couldn’t relate to you. but dongmin surprised you. he was more open than you thought he’d be. he listened to you intently when you’d ramble on about how you felt lost when donghyun broke up with you, reassuring you that you weren’t getting annoying by bringing it up all the time. as nights went on, the conversations changed. they moved away from relationships and settled on yourselves, your hobbies and aspirations.

you realized it one day—instead of venting, you were learning and sharing. it caught you by surprise, but it was nonetheless pleasant and satisfying. you were okay and you were getting better. the thought made you smile a little.

“where’d you go?”

your focus sharpened to donghyun’s curious face. “you got that faraway look you get when you’re thinking really hard,” he smiled, stirring his coffee. “i always wished i could follow you into your mind whenever you got those looks. your mind seems so cool to be in.”

as you raised an eyebrow, the ends of your lips twitched, wanting so desperately to smile at his dopey face. “you’re one to talk. i used to think you held the universe in your head with how spacy you were.”

“spacy? i don’t get it.” donghyun’s round eyes twinkled when he chuckled. “i never really got a lot of things about you, if i’m honest.”

“what do you mean?” you asked, ignoring the dull pang in your heart.

donghyun must still be able to read your microexpressions because he immediately looked apologetic. “oh, not in a bad way! sorry, i’m just–” he nervously laughed and ran his hand through his blond hair, exhaling. “a lot of my love for you stemmed from not understanding you. it’s like you defined coexistence for me. does that make sense? hold on, let me think.”

you stared at him as he tried to collect his thoughts, following his eyes to the lively fish tank next to you guys. “mmm, the best way i can explain it... you know how scientists haven’t even discovered 5% of the mariana trench?” he paused, glancing at you to make sure he wasn’t being confusing. you nodded, signaling him to continue. “but they stick to it because they’re fascinated by the little things they’re discovering. they’re not even concerned that, most likely, they won’t get to experience the mariana trench’s entirety in their lifetime. they just keep going, falling in love with everything they do get to experience... that’s what you were—are to me, my very own mariana trench—someone that i was going to keep exploring and falling in love with well after my death.”

a shine had taken to donghyun’s eyes when he rested them on you. you could feel tears blanketing your own eyes. you opened your mouth to speak, but words failed you—or, rather, you failed to even have words. what can you even say to that?

donghyun took a moment to blink back his tears before continuing. “but i got scared. school was getting a lot harder and, after my internship, i knew our relationship was starting to fall apart. it was unchartered territory for me. our entire relationship had been so free and easy up until that point. misunderstandings virtually stopped existing after our first year. you got me and i got you. so when our communication started faltering, i didn’t know what to do. as much as i wanted to do more for you and love us back to life, i couldn’t do it without sacrificing my plans and mental health. and… that’s when i knew i had to let you go. i wasn’t going to be the boyfriend you deserved while i knew you’d put in your 200% just to save us. that wasn’t something i could live with, y/n.”

you shut your eyes and let the tears fall. you took quiet, shallow breaths to avoid attracting too much attention. unfortunately, eyes were inevitable considering you guys were sitting next to the cafe’s centerpiece. ruffling reached your ears. “here.”

your eyes fluttered open to see donghyun offering a pack of tissues. you reached out to take one when you noticed the design. it pained you all over again. it was one of the gifts you got him for your 5th anniversary—a specially designed tissue pack with your shared fish on it. you joked that, since you tend to cry a lot and donghyun always seemed to be scrambling to find tissues, he should have these on hand. you couldn’t believe he still carried them.

you wiped your tears away before taking a deep inhale. “i really don’t know what to say,” you said through a watery laugh. “you answered practically all the questions i had.”

donghyun returned it with his own weak chuckle. “the therapy—it’s got me communicating my feelings a lot better than we’re used to.”

we’re—we… how does one word manage to bring you so much comfort and riddle you with just as much ache?

“it’s doing you some good,” you smiled softly, your mindful breaths turning back into second nature. “you look… better.”

he nodded firmly, his eyes crinkling into crescents. “i think it’s the best decision i ever made for myself.”

you hummed, dropping your eyes to your half-empty cup. was this the closure you both needed? is it time to walk away forever? is that what this was for? why did you find yourself wanting to keep talking? god, you couldn’t help but miss him even though he was sitting right in front of you. you missed his quirks and ditziness, how in-sync you guys were about so many things.

“tell me what’s running through your head,” donghyun gently interrupted, leaning slightly forward as if you were trading secrets. you hesitated. was it healthy to miss him? after the time that’s passed? you bit your lip, slowly losing yourself to your thoughts again. donghyun dug into his pocket again and produced chapstick, handing it to you. you subconsciously applied it, not biting your lip anymore, when you realized what just happened.

“why did you hand me this?” you asked confused. donghyun smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “you never bite your lips after you apply chapstick so i carried around your favorite for you to use. i was gonna give it to you today before we parted ways…”

and there it was. the impending goodbye. the approaching end credits. you knew this was inevitable. you prepared yourself for this all of yesterday. so why, after all the time apart and spending it with new people, did you find it hard to let him go? it wasn’t like you wanted to get back together with him. you knew that was a no-no. you and woonhak talked about it in lengths. heck, even you and dongmin talked about it after what happened with gawon. so why did it feel like a part of your soul would go with him when he leaves?

donghyun waved his hand in front of you, his face peaking from behind it. “y/n? come back down to earth, silly.”

you gently grabbed his hand and pushed it down. “donghyun… what happens now?”

when your eyes met, you could feel the tears welling up again so you turned to the fish tank, counting all the fish inside. you felt him grab your hand and brush your knuckles with his thumb. “what do you want to happen?”

your lips quivered a bit. what did you want to happen? you didn’t want to lose him. not forever. but you also didn’t want to add on to his stress. you didn’t want to add onto your own, not when everything was getting better. “i want whatever is best for you, whatever will help you succeed and do all you want in this life.”

“mmm, can i ask what you’ve been thinking about?” donghyun asked.

you hesitated, glancing over at your ex, but the encouragement on his face helped you swallow your fear. “i was thinking about how much you meant to me and continue to mean to me. i don’t… i don’t wanna lose you, but i know that being in each other’s lives can create more stress for us in the long run.”

donghyun’s face didn’t hold any disappointment. you were glad. he focused on your clasped hands and smiled sadly. “i’m glad. i was thinking the same way.”

you couldn’t stop the tear that escaped. “does this mean goodbye?”

“it doesn’t have to,” he trailed off, looking into the tank. “i think we can still be friends. we just have to say goodbye to the versions of us that planned a life together.”

“that’s so sad,” you whispered.

he nodded in agreement. “it is, but i’m willing to sacrifice that to get my best friend back. what do you think?”

was this a good idea? you pursed your lips. when you guys first decided to try being just friends, it was fresh off the breakup. of course, it’d hurt, right? but, now, you guys had your own separate lives and things seemed to be looking up for both of you.

“okay,” you decided. “let’s be friends.”

the grin growing on his face caused a smile to grow on yours. “to a fresh start?” he suggested, holding his half-full coffee cup. you held your own coffee up. “to a fresh start.”

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‧.₊˚ ੭ˊᵕˋ੭ current tags: @en-dream @heeheesang @prettyange1 @bee-the-loser @httpenhoon @r1kification @tkooooop @viller2 @veerooniicaa @lynnimini @peanutbutterjam505 @molensworld @tsukimiday0 @kazemiya @jvngw0nlvr @swanyvess @taylorluvation @kamfaye @anyaunyu @miujunhui @21corydoras @tsanho @miyawwn @dylanobr1ens @ellezra @prettiann @noodlesfeet @ribbioniki @petralovesbonedo @imnotsureokay @soupersaldz @hyukarina @cherrytaesan @yuzuksi @haechology @shenrickyistheloml @pinklemonade34 @heizqo @pinkiwinkiminki @sitdlstarllala @enzstr @wonuziex @defnotsanni @exselily @sirenla @seungheartyou @pumpkg @vveebee @cl4ir0l0v3r @angelzforu

੭ˊᵕˋ੭ a/n: i think exs can be friends, but only after building lives apart from each other. how did you read this? critiques welcome! if you disagree, that's okay! everyone lives and thinks differently and that's what makes life so rich.

[wolfbon3z]

I do agree with you on that! This reblog is not meant as hate is disapproval of your statements, simply an addition, even though unrelated to the actual point of your post :,3

One of my issues with this is, that these are kind of „requirements“ for getting attention on tiktok, which kind of ruins the idea of, well, self expression.

If you are alterhuman and u don’t show exactly this type of creativity or flexibility/endurance, then you won’t get attention, which on tumblr is completely fine, but on tiktok it’s just kind of not how that works.

Yes many creators make posts talking about how these things aren’t requirements nor do these make you a therian, but every time I stumble upon posts that say these things, show self expression in another way or simply aren’t „good“ enough at the things, they do not get to be seen for their actual skills.

Even though this isn’t really criticizing tiktok therians, I feel it is absolutely to complain about tiktok as a platform, which I could get into an entire rant about. To put it as simply as possible; on tiktok, for anyone who does not use it, you can either be famous and made into a content machine, or you are simply, a consumer.

If you are famous, it is either because you slowly built your audience through constantly joining trends and appealing to your general audience, or one of your videos accidentally blew up and got a bunch of attention, gaining you followers and people who do find interest in your content. Either way, you need to become a content machine thst posts regularly in a similar style or else you will lose interaction, which again, as stated, removed the entire point of SELF expression and rather puts you into this little cage like in a zoo, doing only tje tricks that the platform wants you to do (trust me, I was a small-ish content creator for a while and my neurodivergent ass decided to analyze this stuff)

The issue is that your creativity isn’t yours anymore once put out to the public cuz either you are unique but unseen, or you are mass-printing into trends but then really popular, to extend this metaphor even further. With this in mind, remember that if you are famous, people will listen to YOUR opinion, which causes issues involving drama, which spreads quite regularly on there. This also means that if you use labels and you give the definition, people will use that instead of actually looking things up before believing what they read on the internet (isn’t internet safety ironic).

Linking back to my statement about personal creativity being taken away from you; many people (especially on here) have made the statement that therian tiktok is ableist, which may seem confusing to many; here’s why. When you think of tiktok therians, you probably imagine people aged 14-18 doing VERY realistic quadrobics with the cat-base masks, wearing hippie or „fairycore grunge“ outfits, most being feminine presenting. This image often messes with any therians who are either older, have physical disadvantages either through disability, body shape or other physical factors, not getting them the reach they want, even if they try just as hard. This also goes for people who live in urban areas or live in a very violent/judgmental environment, making it unable to get time for yourself to try out this fun sport, which, again, means you aren’t getting any views on social media.

I coukd honestly do a whole study on the retention rate of therian tiktok and seeing what factors make what videos blow up more just to prove this, but I think my point is clear enough.

With all this 'tiktok therian' argument going on, let's say what we appreciate about the community despite the negatives- i'll go first I love seeing how creative tiktok therians are. Gear tutorials are readily available, and I love looking at how artistic folks can be. I love the POV quad videos, it's like i'm running through nature!! Its quite impressive how well folks can do quads, they're a pretty good workout! And quad tutorials that prioritize correct form and comfort so you dont get injured! I love seeing how brave folks are to go out in public with gear or do quads, unapologetically. I'm too nervous to do that.

I love my fellow therians, no matter what platform, and you should too.

[flowersforthemachines]

Some facts about Taash (and also the Lords of Fortune, the Qunari, Dragons and other related things) gathered from the banters

Featuring Shathaan's stories about the Crows!

I went through all companion banters on DanaDuchy's channel after playing the game to write down all facts about companions/the world that I haven't seen brought up anywhere in the game as a writing reference (and for funsies).

Note: This list may not be exhaustive. I might have missed some something or didn't write it down because I considered it common knowledge. If you have anything to add, please DM me or send an ask! (do specify what banter the information is coming from, though)

Note 2: Posts from this series (mostly) don't include information from banters specific to quests or between companions and faction members. I plan to do another playthrough to capture more of those and will add any relevant info to the character posts.

Other characters' posts: Bellara, Davrin, Harding, Lucanis, Emmrich, Neve. I'm also planning a post about just the Lighthouse some time later

About Taash

General: 

Taash gets grumpy if they stay inside for too long

Taash may polish their treasure hoard or clean the dishes (even somebody else's) to get out of their head

When Taash is feeling sad, they ask somebody else about how they are doing, so they can focus on somebody else instead of themselves

Taash doesn’t like talking about their feelings because it makes them sad (Lucanis can relate)

Taash doesn't read books before bed because they have a tendency to stay up past their bedtime to finish the exciting parts

Taash seems to care quite a lot about fibre and digestive health (they are so real for that). For example, they enjoy the smell of coffee but don’t drink it because it’s bad for their guts

Taash drinks alcohol 

Taash once requested Bellara/Lucanis to cook them a demon (the suggestion was disregarded) 

Taash liked Lucanis’s deep-fried peppers 

Taash liked Bellara’s stir-fry 

(If Rook is in romance with Taash) A spirit of devotion appears next to Taash after they enter a relationship

Taash doesn’t want to look for more dragonfire tablets because “they are just more orders”, and they already have enough  

Taash doesn’t kill in cold blood and needs to get angry in order to kill someone

Taash has good taste in gemstones, knowing which colours match which (based on the banters where they recommend gemstones for Emmrich’s lich helmet). They say it’s a Lord of Fortune thing, they have to know how to make gems look good 

Taash isn’t afraid of the Fade, because the spirits there mind their own business and don’t try to possess anyone (or anything) 

Taash thinks that even if the Nevarrans almost brought their dragons to extinction, they will still come back eventually

Taash is extremely excited to hear that Morrigan can (potentially) turn into a dragon and wants to ask her about it next time they meet 

Taash doesn’t mind finding no loot when hunting dragons because as long as you survived an encounter with a dragon, you have a new story to tell 

Taash doesn't think of dragons as monsters since they are a natural part of the world and have been around longer than anyone else

On fire-breathing: 

Taash started breathing fire when they were a toddler

Taash needs to eat greens after breathing fire, or they get headaches 

According to healers, fire breathing hurts Taash’s lungs

Taash accidentally set their first female partner’s hair on fire during their first sex

Taash once tried to cook with their dragon breath and accidentally melted a pot and set the kitchen on fire 

On Taash’s sense of smell:  

Taash got their heightened sense of smell after they got sick and couldn't breathe through the nose for a couple of months. After they recovered they could suddenly smell everything

Tassh can smell when someone is ovulating. They can also smell who had been in the room before them, and who is hungover 

Taash could also tell Neve got together with Rook or Lucanis from the smell even before anybody told them

To Taash, Minrathous smells rainy and ‘like rich people hurting poor people’

Early life and the relationship with Shathann: 

Taash learnt to swim before they learnt to walk

Shathann sometimes wouldn't let Taash play/go swimming until they finished their studies (like being able to tell the difference between some pottery shards)

Shathann gifted Taash axes during one of the gift-giving holidays when they were younger. They were simple kindling choppers, but Shathann helped decorate them to make them look like Qunari weapons. During a conversation with Bellara, Taash realises that may be the reason they are still using axes to this day

Axes are also good at lodging between dragon scales and allows them to climb up

Taash grew up poor, though they didn’t realise it because Shathann always made sure they had enough food, even at her expense (like pretending she didn’t want to eat because “Rivaini food is too rich for her”)

Taash spent the money they made from their first job as Lord of Fortune on buying Shathaan a dress. Shathann didn’t appreciate it, instead urging Taash to buy themselves boots or some other useful things 

Shathann hated apples because their skin would get stuck in her teeth (“Evataash, that fruit is stupid!”)

If Taash chooses to pursue Rivaini culture and wear Shathann’s horn as jewellery, they have a blacksmith do runes in the old Qunari language along the edges and get a Seer to bless it

Shathann stopped telling stories about the Crows after Taash once climbed on the roof to play as a Crow

The things Shathann taught Taash about the Crows:

Antivan Crows make themselves invisible to dragons by imitating the dragon's shadow

Antivan Crows coat the beaks of actual crows with poison so that the crows can kill people by pecking

Antivan Crows can slow down their breathing until they become invisible

Antivan Crows come through houses at night and kill children who aren’t in bed

Antivan Crows can do a special move that stops their enemy's heart

Antivan Crows can strangle a Qunari with their own dar-saam (but only if it’s tied incorrectly)

Relationships with companions: 

Bellara gives Taash advice on cooking dinner for their mother

Davrin teaches Taash to use buckets filled with water and sand for lifting

Taash has never flown a kite before and asks Harding to teach them

Harding's mother sends Taash a letter with homemade candies after Shathann’s death, calling it “a hug from afar” (Taash appreciated the gesture and liked the candy) 

(If Rook is in romance with Taash) Taash asks Lucanis about what Rook likes to eat, and Lucanis offers to teach them how to make coffee/tea/chiocolata calda 

Taash isn’t scared of Spite, and even convinces (or more like intimidates) him not to talk about how other people smell without their permission

Lucanis agrees to teach Taash how to kill targets with flair (with varying degrees of success when it comes to cool one-liners) and then plans to ask Teia to make a Crow cape just for them (Taash is very excited about it, as they love crow capes)

Taash insists Neve should get some trophy from Aelia (a ring, or an amulet with her name) to show everyone she beat her, and doesn’t understand why Neve isn’t interested in something like that 

Taash offers their blood to Neve for blood magic purposes (Neve doesn’t take up the offer)

Taash thinks Neve’s ‘dresses’ are pretty

Taash thinks nobody can go toe-to-toe in magic with Neve

Taash offers to hook Neve up with their jeweller to get her a discount (in case she wants a new leg) because “Neve deserves nice things”

Lords of Fortune:

Lords of Fortune have a drunk game where they throw a goblet made from fool’s gold into the water for others to find. Whoever finds it gets free drinks for the rest of the night. The game has only one rule: no punching in the junk

There is also another drunk game where drunk Lords jump off a giant cliff. The only rule is not to hit the water face-first

Even if those are “drunk games”, you can participate in them sober, as long as you are willing to be as stupid as the drunk people

The Lords of Fortune pick new jobs by Isabela throwing daggers at a map or racing nugs (the winner picks the job - could be its owner, or the nug itself)

The lords used to blindfold Mateo (the faction merchant) and spin him around in circles until he tripped on something like a map. They stopped doing that because a Seer told them to quit (the whole thing gave Mateo headaches) 

After Shathann is gone, Taash is in charge of appraising Qunari artifacts for the Lords until they find a better expert

The Lords of Fortune work with a Dalish clan keeper Shivanas (Taash calls them ‘Shiv’) who appraises artefacts for them (tells them what’s okay to sell and not to sell etc.) 

After losing his hand, a Lord named Bernst got a lock-pick hand prosthetic decorated with gems

About Dragons:

Different breeds of dragons can mate and produce offspring. That’s how ice- and lightning-breathing dragons came about

The muscles of dragon wings’ are vulnerable behind. Another weakness is the underbelly

Fighting Dragons is all about making them come to you, either by having them see you as a threat (so they come down to assert dominance) or prey (so they come down to eat you) 

There is a dragon called Wildervale Spitter, which can breathe fire or poison gas. The “fire breath” is actually just poison that burns when the dragon breathes. Most dragons always ignite their breath. The Spitter's special for being able to choose whether to light it up.

Dragons have an extra eyelid that they shut while breathing fire in order to protect their eyes

About Qunari etc.:

Eb-ketarra means something like “growing memories.” When you graft someone’s horn onto yours, you also add their strength to yourself

Qunari food uses a lot of oil for frying

Qunari have a much better sense of smell than humans

Qunari can bury their dead with large jars inlaid with a flame pattern. It’s called ‘issalatar’ and is empty inside, representing that the deceased’s body is also empty now that their spirit is gone

The Rivaini armada can hold its own against the Antaam fleet, but only in good weather. They can’t match the Antaam in firepower, but they can outsail them

Isabela is apparently still a captain of the Siren’s Call 

[allurilove]

Would yan prince let siren reader take a lil bit of him? Can we just take a lil nibble?

We can do our version of wedding rings and just leave a cute lil scar around his ring finger that has bite marks on it

Also teething must be a terrible experience for prince if he picks up the half siren kids without making sure a toy is in their mouth first

He’s fine with some gentle nibbling on the hands and neck. Besides that, he’s mostly afraid that siren reader might get the instinct to tear into him.

“Don’t get used to this,” your husband would probably say as his hand was now offered to you. Yandere prince—someone that usually loves gore and bloodshed—looks away from the sight of you biting his fingers. He finds this to be more of an intimate act, like he trusts you enough to not go crazy on him. However, his fear of you turning on him overrides everything and he has to keep his head turned to the side.

When you propose the idea of having bite marks instead of rings, he quirks a brow at you. “You merpeople are odd. I want to propose something else instead. I’ll allow you to bite my finger if, and only if, you wear an actual wedding ring. It’ll be huge, prominent, and a reminder to others that I’ve claimed you.” He then looks at his hand, imagining the sensation of your teeth on his skin. “I’m open to the idea, don’t get me wrong. I don’t like wearing jewelry on my fingers anyway. It prevents me from… doing certain things.”

Yandere prince would definitely be frustrated if the kids kept biting him, especially at his ankles. “How come you never bite your mother, huh?” He would have to pry his kid off of his leg.

[makeitmakesomesense]

The Early Morning

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Day 5: I've merged a lovely request from a lovely friend with the @taylorswiftmicrofic prompt for the 5th of January, which is 'blind'.

It is just past the middle of the night. You have officially entered the early morning. You find yourself awake. You went to sleep right after your last mission. This is your consequence. 

You don’t try to fight it, instead you roll out of your bed and make your way to get something to drink. Ever since Vision and Wanda have become part of the Avengers, things have been a little different. You’ve all done your best to welcome them to the team, but they have kept to themselves far more than you expected. The changing dynamics have been something to adjust to.

You let yourself enjoy the easy peace of the quiet nighttime. 

You walk to the kitchen and freeze for a second. 

Wanda is sitting at the dining table. Her hair is wet. Her face is ashen and her hands are cupping a hot mug of tea. Her eyes flit wearily to you. 

You hesitate, not sure how to approach. You’ve never spoken to her alone.

‘You okay?’

Wanda turns back to her tea, she doesn’t answer. 

You watch the ends of her hair drip onto the tiled floor. 

You refill the kettle and turn it on. You take a seat next to her. 

Wanda’s wearing a grey sweater. It’s too big for her. The sleeves have ridden up and her forearms are exposed. Goosebumps coat her skin. 

You try again. Something more direct. 

‘Are you cold?’

Wanda’s eyes meet yours and you know that she is. 

The kettle boils and you stand up, your hand touches her shoulder as you pass by. You feel her shudder.

You bring her a new mug. The steam curls promisingly above the liquid. Wanda leans over it. Her hands wrap around the ceramic, even though it must be burning hot. She shudders again and closes her eyes.

You sit next to her with your own mug and think.

Dim light seeps through the large windows and illuminates Wanda’s face. Her eyes have dark shadows under them. You can tell she must not be sleeping. You wonder where Vision is.

As if she can read your thoughts (and you can’t help wondering if she can). Wanda answers your silent question.

‘Viz doesn’t sleep. Not like people do. It’s more... robotic.’

You picture immediately a long cable connecting the android to a computer. You push down the ridiculous image that's probably not so far from the truth. You nod at Wanda silently encouraging her to continue. 

‘At night, he goes offline. Really offline. Missiles could go off and he’d be blind to it.’

You try to understand the subtext of Wanda’s words. There’s a strange suspense to your next question, it is the possibility that she might say yes. 

‘Do you worry about that? About missiles going off?’

Wanda smiles at you. Her head tilts. It could be playful if her eyes weren’t full of pain. 

‘It’s all I worry about.’

You give a half smile back, you know it doesn’t reach your eyes. 

‘I’ve done all my sleeping for tonight.’ You tell her carefully. ‘If you want someone there… someone awake. I was going to watch a movie anyway and I can put on headphones.’

Wanda takes her first sip of the slowly cooling tea. 

‘Thank you.’ She says a moment later, her small smile now weighted with relief.

Wanda follows you back to your room that night. She waits for you to prop some pillows against the headboard and lie back on one side of the bed. She falls readily onto the other side of the mattress. 

She’s not self conscious, not like you’d half expected. 

She sinks into the bed like it’s been calling her for days. You listen to her breathing even out before you put on your headphones.

.

It becomes a routine of sorts. Your new sleep schedule is not nearly as difficult as you expect. You switch your mindless after-dinner screen time with an early nap.

Wanda knocks on your door in the early hours of each morning. You plug in some headphones and watch whatever film you can think of.

Wanda lies beside you. Now that the worst of the sleep deprivation has abated, she is slower to fall asleep. Sometimes you even talk for a few minutes, about the day before or the film you’re planning to watch. 

It’s easy to talk to Wanda, much easier than you ever expected. You try to understand the distance she’s always kept from everyone on the team except Vision.

Each morning, you wait patiently for the inevitable long pause in coversation, for the moment that her eyelids slowly start to close. 

There is something comforting about her steady breathing beside you.

It is too easy to be comfortable. Despite your best efforts, it only takes a week for you to become lulled to near sleep yourself. 

You’re not quite asleep, you’re still following along with the dialogue from the movie. But your mind has drifted and your eyes have closed. 

They fly open at the first feeling of movement beside you. You startle suddenly as you understand your inadvertent mistake. You move backwards unthinkingly and hit your head sharply on the edge of the headboard.

You hiss out and apologise automatically. 

Wanda is still lying in the bed next to you, she has turned to face you. Her head is resting on the pillow. She looks exhausted with a different kind of fatigue. She sits up very carefully, as if her presence is inherently scary.

You don’t know how to explain. That your automatic panic came only from the disorientation of nearly falling asleep by mistake. 

Wanda speaks before you can. Her mouth twists into the same bitter smile that you’ve seen once before. She is watching you rub the sore spot at the back of your head.

‘It’s your amygdala.’ She explains.

‘What?’ You ask unsurely.

‘That’s why you’re afraid.’ 

‘My amygdala.’ You repeat dumbly.

‘Yes. Vision explained it once. It’s what makes you afraid of me, even if you don’t want to be.’ Her words are rehearsed. They sound calm but you can hear something else simmering behind them. ‘Your amygdala knows the danger that comes with being near me.’

‘And what about Vision’s amygdala?’ You ask sharply, suddenly hating the implications of her words. ‘How does he manage?’

‘It’s synthetic.’ 

‘That’s lucky.’ You comment dryly.

She stares at you seriously. An overwhelming loneliness fills her eyes. 

‘Yes.’ Wanda says quietly, looking down at the bedspread. ‘It is.’

You watch Wanda leave. 

.

You spend the day caught between a wish to apologise and a lingering uncertainty that something else is wrong. Something more complicated than you’d realised.

You seek out Natasha in the end, trusting her advice and needing someone to speak to. You find her as she’s leaving a boardroom after a meeting. She invites you back into the room and you sit together. You start to tell her about Wanda. You try to state the facts. The sleep deprivation. Vision’s words. Her isolation from the team. 

You hope you don’t sound biased, you hope your concern doesn’t seem excessive.

Natasha’s lips twist and you can tell she doesn’t like the details either. She tells you other things, small moments she’s noticed. Their separate meals from the rest of you. His frequent appearances in Wanda’s room without warning. How it's the one thing he can’t seem to learn not to do. A sudden lengthy monologue about the benefits of Stark’s technology, unaware of Wanda stiffened posture beside him.  

You exchange a long look with Natasha, it holds something that you recognise in your bones.

You decide to worry together. 

.

That night you find Wanda before the time she usually comes to your room. It is just past midnight and she is sitting at the dining table. Her dark hair is wet again. 

She startles violently when you call her name. Her shoulders relax immediately as she turns to find you. 

Wanda stands suddenly and moves to the kitchen counter. You watch her refill the kettle and turn it on. She takes out two mugs. She smiles at you again. There’s relief in it. 

‘Good evening.’ She says at last. Her fingers tap out a steady rhythm against the marble countertop. 

She notices you watching and her hand stills suddenly. She stares down at her fingers. Her mouth closes and her jaw ticks. She is lost in thought. You know she is remembering your last encounter.

This time, you speak first. You start slowly.

‘I’m not afraid of you.’ You tell her carefully. 

Wanda doesn’t look up. You watch the familiar bitter smile that makes your gut twist unhappily.

‘Then you are not paying attention.’ She says simply. 

‘I am.’ You counter stubbornly. 

‘We can’t change who we are.’ Her voice is monotone and you can tell that she is quoting someone else. ‘We can’t relinquish the dangers that comes with our power.’

‘But we can always have family.’ Your argument is quiet. ‘We can still have love and care. We can forgive ourselves for who we are.’

Wanda goes very still. After a moment, she reaches for the kettle that has now boiled. You watch her pour the water into the two waiting mugs.

‘Vision -’ She begins at last, looking at you unsurely. ‘It’s hard’

‘What is?’ 

She hands you a mug of tea and you watch her grip her own drink like it’s a life support system. 

‘He would never do the things I’ve done.’ Her voice cracks with barely repressed guilt. ‘It can be hard to not feel alone.’ 

You drink your tea and watch her for a moment. Wanda's breathing is shallow. Her pupils have dilated in the dim light. Her dark eyes are watching you, waiting. 

‘I would’ve.’ You confess softly. ‘If I’d been you. I think I would have done the same things.’

A thousand emotions flit through Wanda's expression. It settles somewhere between fear and longing.

You move forward and place your mug on the countertop, carefully you take Wanda’s from her too. When her hands are free, you hold them gently in your own. 

She grips them tightly. You can feel her shaking. 

‘Do you want to get out of here?’ You offer softly. ‘Just for a few days. We can borrow a car. We can go right now.’

Wanda is so close to you now. You feel the hitch in her breath as you much as you hear it.

Wanda’s expression fills with the same look of longing and she glances outside at the full moon that is brightening the darkest part of the night. 

‘Viz’ll wake up soon.’ She hesitates. ‘He hates it when I leave this place.’

You shake your head. You give her a small smile. ‘Natasha said they’re using his offline time tonight to update some of his old programming. Getting rid of some of the biases that Tony created back when it was only Jarvis.’

You pause. Wanda is looking at you like the world is something new again.

‘We have time.’ You tell her and it feels like a promise. 

Her small smile is full of sudden happiness.

Wanda leans forward and her head rests against your shoulder. There is a weightlessness to her tired relief.

You are grateful that your amygdala is very real. That you can feel this entirely.

‘Okay’ She says finally against your shirt. ‘Do you mind if I sleep while you drive?’

You laugh and wrap your arms around her. The wet ends of her hair drip onto your arms.

You leave the Compound before the sun has risen.

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Requests are still very welcome for future January fics. More info in the pinned post if you're interested in requesting. <3

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[siggiedraws]

I like your essay but does it really irk you if Sonic is Ever portrayed differently even somewhat in other media? He can still have great character even if it doesn't always fit your ideal for it

Thank you, I'm glad you like my essay! My response to this will be quite long-winded, so bear with me.

I am not oblivious to how irrational it may come across for me to essentially admit I dislike all different interpretations of Sonic. But personally speaking, if I am to be completely honest with myself, yes, it does irk me. Their differences almost always compromise Sonic’s appeal, making them unlikeable to me.

My question is, if you are going to remove what makes pre-existing material so special in an adaptation, why is it even an adaptation of pre-existing material? This is a rhetorical question; I know the answer is purely due to cynical marketability reasons. Media is almost guaranteed to generate money if it features a popular, recognizable character. For obvious reasons, I do not think prioritizing marketability over artistic integrity is a good thing that should be defended or encouraged.

My argument is simple: Is it possible for a different interpretation of Sonic to be a good character? Sure, in a vacuum. You can replace any beloved character in fiction with Sonic instead by doing nothing but slapping some blue spikes on it and calling it a day.

My issue is that wouldn't make it a good interpretation of Sonic the Hedgehog because there is no reason for it to be Sonic.

I feel that now is a good time to finally talk about this.

My wariness of divergences in Sonic adaptations, is in part, based in the knowledge that the people at Sonic Team had their creative vision completely disrespected and dismissed overseas.

(SOURCE) - Yasushi Yamaguchi's Twitter

(SOURCE) - Masato Nishimura's Twitter

(SOURCE)

(SOURCE)

(SOURCE)

Sonic Team had no say or power in how Sonic was depicted in the U.S. In some cases, they had no idea that changes were even made until they were told by someone.

There is this distinct sense of cultural superiority coming from Sega of America. Did you know that Sega of America considered Sonic's design "unsalvageable" and insisted it needed to be changed? Did you know that Sega of America tried to "educate" Sega of Japan at character design because they saw them as incompetent at designing good characters?

(SOURCE)

Yes, this is primarily about Sonic's design being "too Japanese." This is corroborated in Sonic the Hedgehog Gametap Retrospective.

As an artist, it is really devastating to hear this story. Putting myself in Sonic Team's shoes yields nothing but sorrow. This flagrant disrespect towards artists' creative visions is odious to me.

Now compound this with the fact that Sonic has had a consistent lack of fidelity in adaptations since he was created, especially in the West, and I hope you can see my perspective here.

To go back to my initial topic on Sonic's characterization, I think that my position can come across unreasonable if you are a person who does not feel particularly strongly one way or another about it. It is completely fine to feel this way. Everyone can enjoy media however they please. For the vast majority of media I consume, I do not pay nearly as much attention and devotion to character consistency.

Sonic is different.

Sonic as a character is extremely important to me. He has gotten me through many hard times in my life and he continues to endlessly inspire me. Whenever I am faced with a tough situation, I hear Sonic’s voice in my head, encouraging me to be strong. Encouraging me to do my best. Encouraging me to keep living. Sonic is my favourite fictional character of all time. He means so much to me that it’s impossible to put into words.

I don’t want to get too emotional here, but I believe that a character like Sonic should continue to propagate and stay culturally relevant because I think kids nowadays really deserve a character like that in their lives. How he is characterized and used in the narrative in Sonic media really matters. There are Tailses in the world who need to learn how to be confident. There are Blazes in the world who need to learn how to accept help. There are Elises in the world who need to learn to let go of the responsibilities that burden them. There are Shahras in the world who struggle from having been in abusive relationships. And there are Merlinas in the world who are afraid of death. These people would benefit from a positive figure to guide them out of dark places.

My feelings about Sonic are far from an anomaly. See an excerpt from this artwork by sludgetoons, in response to this video essay:

"This one fucking video finally has made me realize WHAT Sonic is to me. he's my hero he's my inspiration hell hes a role model yes but none of those terms ever felt right to place onto this character that is so beautifully painted to be this characters free from the shackles of humanity and a need to be "relatable". He's not a hero or a role model, hes a DIRECTION. Sonic himself is an impossible goal to reach as a person, but just trying to live my life in a way that is free, appreciating the world that is around me, exploring and climbing and running and rebelling, lending a hand where I can but understanding ultimately im free to do as I please and I owe no one anything as they owe me nothing. as long as i am FOLLOWING him in those big footprints those red sneakers leave I am becoming a better version of myself. The goal is not to become Sonic, that's impossible. But by ignoring that impossibility and pushing on anyways I still WONT become Sonic. but I'll inadvertently become this better version of myself.

There's no way I can explain it properly how much this character means to me. When I picked up the pencil to draw for the first time it was because I thought he looked cool and inspired me and I wanted to replicate that magic. When I was feeling trapped in my past relationship and thought I had no say in what was happening to me his voice was in my head telling me this wasn't right and that "I could do anything". Start of 2024 I found myself asking "what would sonic do" more often than ever and 2024 was the best year of my entire fucking life. I couldn't give a fuck if it makes me seem insane he made who who I am and I love myself and I hope someday somehow, in another time or space, I can meet him just to say thank you."

This is just someone spilling their heart out on the internet about how much they love Sonic. It has over 9,000 likes at the time of this post.

I do not like different interpretations of Sonic.

None of them inspire power in others quite like this.