#and their existences that are rarely featured on screen??

[crowrelli]

.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Pick One: Magical Girl Show or Rom-com. You cannot be both.

Early in season four we get the episode Gang of Secrets. An episode that ends with Marinette outing her secret identity to Alya. A touching moment that sparked outrage across the fandom because it meant that Marinette had made the choice to reveal her identity to her best friend while keeping her hero partner in the dark.

This choice spat in the face of the exceptions that many fans had for the series. Thousands of pre-season-four fanfics feature moments where Ladybug and Chat Noir promise each other that they'll be the first to know each other's identities. After the Alya reveal, scores of fanfics were written to salt on Marinette's choice to tell the "wrong" person.

Most of these fics feature a betrayed Chat Noir quitting or otherwise punishing Ladybug for breaking their promise to be each other's first, thereby destroying his faith in their partnership. But that promise was never made on screen. It only existed in the realms of fanfic and, when Chat Noir finally found out in canon, his reaction was largely neutral. He never once blamed Ladybug for her choice or pushed for a reveal or even asked for the right to tell one of his friends.

So what happened here? Why did the fans have such wildly unrealistic expectations of canon? Were their expectations even unrealistic or did canon betray them? The answer to that is not as straight forward as you might think because it all comes back to one of Miraculous' many, many, many writing problems: Miraculous is trying to be both a Magical Girl Show and a romantic comedy, but those are not genres that mesh. You can only be one (or you can be a third thing that we'll get to at the end as it's the easiest way to fix this mess, but I want to mostly focus on where the anger is coming from and why the writing is to blame.)

To discuss this mismatch, we're going to do something that breaks my heart and talk about some of Origins flaws. While I love that episode and unironically refer to it as the best writing the show ever gave us, it's not perfect and its flaws are all focused around trying to set up both genres. Do note that I'm going to use a lot of gender binary language here as magical girl shows have a strong focus on gender segregation and rarely if ever acknowledge gender diversity.

Let's Talk Magical Girls

Magical girl shows are shows that center on young women and their friendships. While male love interests are often present in these shows, the boys tend to take a backseat and function primarily as arm candy while the girls save the day and carry the narrative.

A great example of this is the show Winx Club. This show features a large cast of teenage girls who save the magical universe from various threats with their magical powers. Each girl has a love interest, but the boys are usually off doing their own thing and only occasionally show up for a date or to give the girls a ride on their cool bikes or magical spaceship. I don't even think that we see the guys fight or, if we do, it's a rare thing. They are not there to save the day. They are there to be shipping fodder.

Like most magical girl shows, Winx Club starts with the main character making friends with one of the girls who will eventually become part of her magical girl squad. This brings us back to Miraculous.

Did you ever find it weird that Origins implies that Marinette has no friends? She doesn't even have a backbone until new girl Alya shows up to become Marinette's First Real Friend:

Marinette: I so wish I can handle Chloé the way you do. Alya: You mean the way Majestia does it. She says all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing. (pointing at Chloé) Well, that girl over there is evil, and we are the good people. We can't let her get away with it.

This is a bizarre opening because Miraculous is not about Marinette making friends or learning to stand up for herself. If you skipped Origins and just watched the rest of the show, then you'd have no clue that Marinette wasn't close with her classmates before this year. You also wouldn't know that Alya was new in town and you definitely wouldn't know that Marinette had never stood up to Chloé before this year. So why is this here? Why waste screen time setting up elements that aren't actually important to canon?

Miraculous did it for the same reason that Winx Club did it: magical girl shows traditionally start with the main character making friends with at least one of her eventual female teammates because Magical Girl shows are all about the girls and their relationships. The boys are just arm candy.

But Miraculous isn't a magical girl show. The writers have explicitly stated that it's a rom-com and romantic comedies aren't about female friendship. They might have female friendships in them, but that's not where the focus is. The focus of a rom-com is on the romance and Origins is very clearly all about the romance.

Origins as a Rom-com

Origins has a lot on its plate. It has to establish the villain's motivation for the first time, show us how the heroes got their miraculous, show us how the heroes first met on both sides of the mask, show us how they met their respective best friends, and show us how the heroes dealt with their first akuma. It would be perfectly understandable if this 40 minute two-parter didn't do anything with the romance. They have a full show to give us that!

In spite of this, Origins has some incredibly touching moments for both Ladynoir and Adrienette because romance is the heart of Miraculous. It is the main focus of the show. The driving motivation for both of our leads and the majority of the show's episodes. To tell the story of how their journey started without at least one of them falling in love would feel wrong. That's why we see both of them fall in love!

First we get Chat Noir giving his heart to his bold and brilliant lady, then we get Marinette's heart being stolen by the shy sweet boy who never once thought to blame her for her snap judgement of his character. We even get a touching moment where Chat Noir inspires his lady to accept her role and be Ladybug, leading her to boldly face their enemy and call him out:

Roger: I have a new plan, unlike you! Move aside and let the pros do their thing. You've already failed once! Ladybug: …He's right, you know. If I'd captured Stoneheart's akuma the first time around, none of this would have happened! I knew I wasn't the right one for this job… Cat Noir: No. He's wrong, because without you, she'd no longer be here. (they look at Chloe) And because without us, they won't make it, and we'll prove that to 'em. Trust me on this. Okay? Ladybug: Okay.

I love this moment, but it does lose a little of its power when you remember that we had an Alya-driven variation of this exact same thing five minutes prior:

Alya: HELP!! (Marinette suddenly gets filled with courage. She gets the case out of Alya's bag and puts on the Miraculous. Then, Tikki appears, happy to see Marinette again.) Tikki:(raising her arms) Mmmm! Marinette: I think I need Ladybug! Tikki: I knew you'd come around! Marinette: Well, I'm still not sure I'm up for this, but Alya's in danger. I can't sit back and do nothing.

This scene initially confused me because - if Miraculous is a rom-com - then why would you make Alya the reason that Marinette became Ladybug? Why wouldn't you have Chat Noir be the one in danger so that Marinette chose to fight because of her love interest and then encourage that bond with the later scene of him encouraging her? Why split the focus like this? Why give Alya so much attention?

In case you haven't figured it out, it's because Origins is trying to establish two different genres of show. Two genres that will continue to fight for the rest of the series (or at least the first five seasons).

Magical Girls Vs Rom-com

Why is Alya the one to shake off the nightmare dust and inspire the others during the season five finale? Why is Alya the one that Marinette trusts with all of her plans while Chat Noir is kept in the dark? Why does Alya and Marinette's friendship get so much more focus than Adrien and Nino's? Why was Alya the only temp hero who got upgraded to full time hero?

It's because Alya is Marinette's second in command in a magical girl show and magical girl shows focus on female friendships while the boys are just there to be cute and support the girls.

Why do most of Marinette's talks with Alya focus on Adrien? Why is Chat Noir the only other full time holder of a Miraculous for the first three seasons and then again for the final season? Why do Marinette's friends become more and more obsessed with Adrienentte as the show goes on? Why is the love square's identity reveal given so much more narrative weight than any other identity reveal?

It's because Miraculous is a rom-com and the love square is our end game couple, so of course the story focuses on their relationship above all else!

Are you starting to see the problem?

Circling back to our original question: no, it was not unreasonable for the fans to expect that the Alya reveal would have massive negative consequences for Ladynoir. That is what should happen in a rom-com and Miraculous is mainly written like a rom-com. But the writers are also trying to write a magical girl show and, in a magical girl show, Alya and Marinette's friendship should be the most important relationship in the show, so it makes perfect sense that the show treats the Alya reveal as perfectly fine because the Alya reveal was written from the magical girl show perspective.

When it comes to Miraculous, if you ever feel like a writing choice makes no sense for genre A, re-frame it as a thing from genre B and it suddenly makes perfect sense which is fascinatingly terrible writing! It's no wonder there are people who hate the Alya reveal and people who will defend it with their life. It all depends on which genre elements you've picked up on and clung to. Neither side is right, they've both been set up to have perfectly valid expectations. Whether those expectations are valid for a given episode is entirely up to the mercurial whims of the writers!

How Do We Fix This Mess

At this point, I don't think that we can, the show is too far gone, but if someone gave me the power to change one element of Miraculous, that element would be this: scrap both the magical girl stuff and the rom-com stuff and turn Miraculous into a team show where the friendships transcend gender.

At this point, I've written over a quarter of a million words of fanfic focused on these characters (the brain rot is real) and one thing I've discovered is that it is damn near impossible to keep Adrien and Alya from becoming friends. They're both new to their school while Marinette and Nino have gone to the same school for at least a few years. Alya and Adrien are both obsessed with Ladybug plus Adrien is a natural hype man who loves to support his friends and Alya loves to talk about her blog. Alya is dating Adrien's best friend. On top of that, Alya, Adrien, Nino, and Marinette are all in the same class, meaning that they pretty much have to be spending time together five days a week unless French school don't give kids a chance to socialize or do group projects. If so, then judging them for the first issue, but super jealous of the latter.

Given all of that, why in the world is does it feel like Alya is Marinette's close friend while Adrien is just some guy who goes to Alya's school? Along similar lines, while canon Marinette barely talks to Nino, I've found that Marinette and Nino tend to get along smashingly, especially if you embrace the fact that they have to have known each other for at least a few years.

If you embrace this wider friendship dynamic and scrap the girl squad, replacing it with Alya, Adrien, Marinette, and Nino, then the fight for narrative importance quickly goes away. It's no longer a question of is this episode trying to be a magical girl show or a rom-com? Instead, the question is: which element of the friend group is getting focused on today? The romance or the friendship?

A lot of hero shows do this and do it well. I think that one of the most well known examples is Teen Titans. That show has five main characters and the focus is usually on their friendships, but there is a very clear running romantic tension between the characters Robin and Starfire with several episodes giving a good deal of focus to their romance. I'd say that this element really starts in the show's the 19th episode - Date with Destiny - and it all culminates in the movie that capstones the series: Trouble in Tokyo. The character Beast Boy also gets a romance arc and, while it's more short lived, it's further evidence that you can have strong romances and strong friendships in the same show and even the same episode. You just have to own the fact that boys and girls can be friends with each other, a very logical thing to embrace when your show has decided to have a diverse cast of heroes instead of imposing arbitrary gender limitations on its magical powers.

I couldn't figure out a way to work this into the main essay, but it's relevant so I wanted to quickly point it out and give you more to think about re Origins. Have you ever found it weird how Origins gives both Adrien AND Marinette the "I've never had friends before" backstory and yet wider canon acts like Marinette has this strong amazing friend group while Adrien doesn't seem to care about making friends and instead focuses all his energy on romance? Why give both the protagonist and the supposed deuteragonist this kind of origin if it's not going to be a major element of the show? It makes so much more sense to only give one of them this backstory and then focus that person's character arc on learning about friendship.

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

Dew has the hots for Swiss being bigger than him, pass it on.

Realistically, Dew is aware that Swiss is bigger than him.

Oh, it's not to say that the fire ghoul can't overpower him, or someone else bigger than him, he has before. Simply, Swiss is built completely differently ; taller, wider chest and shoulders, thicker limbs, bigger hands. Dew knows that.

It's one thing to know it, though, and an entirely different one to really feel it.

It all started pretty innocently, really. They were watching a movie - a rare good modern horror movie, one that had them totally engrossed in it. Dew had been leaning against Swiss, and attempted to steal some pop(e)corn from the multi's bowl, since his own was long empty.

Before he could take his hands out of it, though, Swiss had grabbed both his wrists in one hand, his grip unyielding despite Dew's protests and squirming. Fuck, Swiss didn't even look away from the screen, fingers clasping Dew's delicate bones gently but firmly.

With a shudder, Dew realized that Swiss' fingers still overlapped around both his wrists.

And now this knowledge is haunting Dew. Images of Swiss holding him down, one hand splayed over his stomach - surely big enough to cover a large part of it - the other pinning Dew's wrist above his head are invading his dreams, leaving him to wake up drenched and panting.

It doesn't get better, when Swiss unknowingly adds more fuel to the raging lust consuming Dew. Moving him around by the waist when he's standing in his way, fingers just shy of touching ? Drapping himself over Dew's back, covering his whole body with his own so easily you wouldn't even know Dew is there if you were to stand behind them ? Dew is not built to deal with that.

So when Swiss makes a off-handed comment about being able to fit Dew's entire ass in his hand, the fire ghoul has had enough. He needs Swiss on top of him yesterday, and he's going to get him.

The multi ghoul yelps when he is abruptly dragged out of the room by what looks like a very pissed off Dewdrop.

"Hey, Dewy, easy, what's wrong ?"

And of course Swiss wraps his hand around Dew's arm. The fire ghoul feels his knees weaken.

"Swiss, I swear to Satan, you are the bane-" Dew throws the door of his room open and slams it shut behind them, "-of my fucking existence, you know that ?"

Confusion floods Swiss' features. It's short-lived, though, because Dew yanks him on top of him, both of them boucing on the mattress with the strenght of it.

"Wha- Dew ?"

For a moment, Dew's not sure what to say, then Swiss settles a hand on his ribs, fingers splaying unbelievably far, and the fire ghoul's eyes fall helplessly there, pupils expending, jaw falling open.

Swiss, bless him, catches on quickly. His eyebrows climb up his forehead, a delighted grin splitting his face in two.

"Oh, what's that ?"

Dew glares the best he can.

"Shut the fuck up and crush me."

"Gladly."

[voxslays]

“We fell in love in October”

Featuring >>> Vox x Reader; In which Vox is stressed about Alastor’s return, and scared of you leaving him.

You step into Vox's surveillance room and see him sitting in front of a bunch of televisions showing different views around hell, mostly around the ‘Hazbin Hotel.’ He doesn't even bother to look at you before yelling. "What the hell do you want? I'm busy!" He says, his face still buried in his work. “It’s just me Vox.” You say softly. Vox finally looks at you, his red eyes narrowing slightly as he recognizes you. “Ah, it's just you, huh? Well, that changes things a bit.” He leans forward, his interest piqued. “What's so important that you had to come all the way here to see me?” 

“Can’t I just visit a friend?” You ask gently. Vox chuckles, his monitor eyes glinting with amusement. “Visit a friend, huh? In hell?” He shakes his head. “You really are naive, aren't you? Friends don't exist in hell. Everyone's either trying to screw each other over or plotting their revenge.” He says passive aggressively. “Oh.” You say, obviously heart by his revelation. You thought you were friends. Vox's expression softens slightly, his eyes flickering with a gentler light. “But hey, if you really just wanted to see me, that's... nice.” He pauses, seeming to consider something.

“Sorry.” Vox's eyes narrow again, suspicion creeping into his voice. “Wait a minute. This isn't about Alastor, is it?” He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “I knew that you’d be upset about him returning…so I thought I’d make sure you were okay.” You gingerly utter, feeling gormless. Vox's face darkens, his grip tightening on his arms. “Oh, so you pitied me?” He growls, his words contort into a staticy TV voice. “Well, newsflash, I don't need your pity!” He slams his fist on the desk, making the televisions shake.

“I'm sorry for wasting your time.” You say as you begin to walk away. Vox's eyes widen slightly as you turn to leave, a flicker of something—regret, perhaps—crossing his face before it's quickly hidden behind his usual scowl. “Wait.” He says, his voice a bit softer but still gruff. “I didn't...I mean…” He trails off. He sighs, pinching the edge of his screen. “Look, I'm sorry, okay? You're one of the few people in this godforsaken place who actually tries to be nice.” He utters quietly. 

Vox stands up, his tall frame looming over you as he reaches out to grab your arm. “Just... stay, okay? I need someone to talk to, and you're the only one who doesn't want to stab me in my sleep.” He looks at you with a rare, almost vulnerable expression. “I’m sure thats not true.” You gently whisper. Vox snorts derisively. “You'd be surprised.” He lets go of your arm and flops back down into his chair, spinning around to face his monitors again. “Most of the demons here either hate me or want to use me for something.”

“What about Velvette and Valentino?” ​​Vox rolls his eyes. “Those two are only nice to me because they need something. Velvette wants to use my tech skills to boost her social media influence, and Valentino...well, let's just say he has a few 'special’ requests for me from time to time.” He says, displeased. “I’m sorry.” Vox waves a dismissive hand, but his shoulders slump slightly. “It's fine. I'm used to it.” He falls silent for a moment, staring at his screens with unseeing eyes. “You know, the only person who ever truly cared about me was Alastor.”

Vox's voice is filled with a mix of longing and pain. “He was the one who taught me everything I know about power. He used to spend hours with me, showing me new tricks and challenging me to improve. He’s the reason I’m an overlord.” Vox's eyes glaze over, lost in memories. “But then he left. He abandoned me and everyone else in hell for that damn hotel. And now he barely even acknowledges my existence.” He snaps back to reality, his face twisting into a scowl. “Stupid Alastor.” Vox's expression softens slightly, a vulnerable look in his eyes. “Sometimes I wonder... if I could just show him that I'm still his loyal understudy, maybe he'd take me back. Maybe he'd be proud of me again.”

“But you don’t need him anymore. Maybe he left because he knew you were ready to become an overlord.” You try to stay optimistic, patting his shoulder tenderly. Vox's smile is bitter. “Easy for you to say. You don't know what it's like to have Alastor as your mentor. He's not just any demon, he's the radio demon. And I need his approval more than anything.” He shakes his head, his eyes flashing red for a brief moment. "You're wrong. I'm not ready. I could never be as great as Alastor." His voice takes on a desperate edge. "Sometimes I think...Maybe I should just give up. Stop trying to prove myself."

“You don’t need to prove yourself to me.” You speak tenderly. Vox looks at you, his eyes filled with a raw, aching need. “You...you really mean that, don’t you?” He asks vulnerably. “I do.”

Vox's face contorts, his expression crumpling as he suddenly lunges forward, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your shoulder. His body shakes as he lets out a low, broken sob, the weight of his loneliness and longing finally overwhelming him. You feel his hot tears soaking through your clothes as he clings to you, his grip tightening as if afraid you'll disappear if he lets go. "You're...you're the only one who's ever really cared about me," he chokes out, his voice muffled against your shoulder.

Slowly, hesitantly, Vox pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes red-rimmed and glistening with unshed tears. He reaches up with a shaky hand to cup your face, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek. "I..." He trails off. Vox takes a deep, shuddering breath, his eyes searching yours intensely as he struggles to find the right words. "I...I think I'm falling in love with you. No, I am in love with you. Completely, utterly, hopelessly in love." He says. 

Vox leans in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull back if you're not ready for this. But he hopes you are. He hopes that you feel the same way, that you've been falling for him just as hard as he's been falling for you. "May I..." He asks. “Yes.” A brilliant smile stretches across Vox's face, and he leans in the rest of the way, his lips meeting yours in a soft, tender kiss. He feels an overwhelming sense of relief and happiness wash over him as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss slightly. 

Vox's eyes flutter closed as he loses himself in the feeling of your lips against his. His hands come up to gently cup your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks. After a long, blissful moment, he pulls back just slightly, resting his forehead against yours. "I...I can't believe you're real," Vox whispers, his voice barely audible. "I've dreamed of this moment so many times, and now it's actually happening. You're actually kissing me back. You actually care about me..." He pauses. “I love you.” Vox's breath hitches, and he pulls you into another searing kiss, his body trembling with happiness. When he finally pulls away again, he's grinning like an idiot, tears of joy streaming down his face. "You...you love me too?" 

A soft, delighted laugh escapes Vox, and he closes the distance between your lips once more, kissing you with renewed fervor. His heart swells with happiness, and he feels like he could burst from sheer joy. "I love you too," Vox murmurs against your lips, his voice trembling with emotion. "More than anything.” He hugs you tightly, his face buried in your neck. Vox holds you all night, savoring the feeling of your warmth and love.

[amethystarachnid]

MUTANT BODYGUARD - part III

⤷ JAMES LOGAN HOWLETT

ᯓ★ Pairing: James Logan Howlett x fem!reader

ᯓ★ part 1 | part 2 | part 3

ᯓ★ Genre: fluff and spicy (I mean, it's Logan...)

ᯓ★ Story type: short story

ᯓ★ Word count: 8.3k

ᯓ★ Summary: Your life with Logan was going just fine, but fine doesn't last long in celebrities' world: first rumors of a break up, then of him having an affair, Logan can't stand to see you so upset and decides to take matter into his own hands with a livestream.

ᯓ★ TW(s): mentions of cheating

ᯓ★ Timeline: doesn't follow a timeline in the x-men movies

ᯓ★ Request: I would love to read more of this. Can you imagine Logan's reaction if the tabloids spread crazy rumors of a breakup or an affair like they do to celebrities all of the time (especially if it's about him). He'd be so confused and probably annoyed if the reader teased him about it (@needz1nk)

ᯓ★ From: Marvel Bingo, Bodyguard romance x Age Gap

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo (requests open)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ If you are a Charles Xavier lover click on this link!

ᯓ★ English isn't my first language and this isn’t proof read

In the weeks following the premiere and the much-talked-about bathroom incident, the media whirlwind surrounding you and Logan only intensified. What started as a curious whisper in celebrity news quickly exploded into a full-blown frenzy, with headlines splashing your relationship across screens and magazine covers everywhere. The story of an A-list actress and her bodyguard falling in love had the public hooked, and as the details trickled out, interest only grew. Some saw it as the ultimate fairytale romance; others found reasons to criticize. But the one thing that everyone seemed to agree on was that they couldn't look away.

To your surprise, the publicity sparked an unexpected wave of support from fans, old and new. Overnight, you gained a whole new group of followers who adored the idea of a love story that defied Hollywood norms. Your existing fans were thrilled to see a new side of you, one that was raw and authentic, and they rallied around you, excited to see you so visibly happy. They shared clips from interviews, fan edits of you and Logan on the red carpet, and screenshots from the infamous bathroom encounter. The comments flooded your social media: "Finally! She's found someone who treats her like a queen!" "They are SO cute together, I’m obsessed!" "This is real love. Logan’s the best thing to happen to her!" These fans painted your timeline with heart emojis, hashtags about true love, and affirmations that they’d “ship” you and Logan forever.

But it wasn’t just your fans who were excited; Logan found himself with an entirely new fan base of his own. Almost overnight, he was propelled from being a low-key presence in your life to a reluctant but undeniable celebrity in his own right. Fan pages popped up dedicated entirely to him, featuring candid photos of Logan at events, his brooding glances at premieres, and, most frequently, the rare, disarming smile that he would flash only at you. Girls who had likely never noticed Logan’s existence before were now obsessing over his rugged looks and quiet confidence. They analyzed his style, dissected his every movement, and swapped theories about his background. Despite his straightforward nature, Logan was an enigma to them, a new kind of celebrity who neither wanted the fame nor cared about the public adulation. The mystery only added to his appeal.

Social media was brimming with Logan-related content, much of it filled with admiration and even longing. Comments like, “If I can’t have a man like Logan, what’s the point?” and “Forget actors—I want a real man like him!” filled his unofficial fan pages. People shared photoshopped images of themselves with him, fan fiction imagining scenarios where they were in your place, and “Logan appreciation” threads discussing every aspect of his appeal. Some even went so far as to analyze the subtle possessiveness he had towards you, swooning over how protective he seemed. To many, he was the embodiment of an old-school romance hero, a modern knight who had swept in to protect and claim his woman in a world where that felt rare.

But as with anything that reached this level of fame, not all of the attention was positive. Alongside the supportive comments and fan accounts, there were plenty of harsh, critical voices determined to tear you down. Many people were quick to question what a successful actress like you was doing with someone like Logan, a bodyguard whose life had previously been so removed from the glitz of Hollywood. They called you names, some implying that your relationship was a publicity stunt, a bid for attention rather than a genuine connection. Others criticized Logan, saying he was just another “bodyguard boyfriend” trying to capitalize on your fame and insinuating that he was only with you for personal gain.

The hate was worst on social media, where anonymity often emboldened people to say things they wouldn’t dare voice in person. Comments like “What does she even see in him?” or “She’s just desperate for attention” littered your posts. Some were even more malicious, accusing you of “using Logan to stay relevant” or “replacing real talent with a guy she pays to protect her.” A few particularly harsh ones left a bitter taste in your mouth, claiming things like, “He’s way too good for her. She’ll chew him up and spit him out like every other guy.” Or, “This relationship won’t last—she’ll move on when something better comes along.”

As more and more of these comments appeared, you found yourself drawn to reading them, almost obsessively. Logan noticed, of course. He was perceptive enough to catch the flicker of hurt in your eyes when you looked at your phone, and he’d quietly reach over, pulling you close or brushing his hand along your back, grounding you in the simplicity of his presence. He didn't bother with comments himself, brushing them off like flies, reminding you time and again that the opinions of strangers meant nothing to him. But for you, it was harder to ignore. You were used to some degree of online criticism as an actress, but this—people questioning your worth as a person, as Logan’s partner—felt different. More personal.

Logan’s attitude was almost infuriating in its calm. "Why are you letting this get to you?" he’d ask in his straightforward way, his tone gruff yet gentle as he brushed a lock of hair behind your ear. "We know what’s real here. We know us." And, for the most part, you tried to hold onto that—his certainty in the face of so much noise. But as the relationship continued to grow in the public eye, so did the backlash, and it felt relentless.

One evening, after a particularly long day filled with work obligations and negative comments online, you finally snapped. You were sitting on the couch, phone in hand, scrolling through the endless barrage of insults, unable to look away. “I just don’t get it, Logan,” you said, your voice tinged with frustration. “Why do people hate that we’re together? Why does it matter so much to them?”

Logan took a seat beside you, his arm draped over the back of the couch as he looked at you with that steady gaze. “Because it’s easier for them to tear down what they don’t understand. They don’t know us—they only know what they see through a screen. And that’s their problem, not ours.”

He took the phone from your hand, setting it aside. “Let them talk,” he said simply, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. “We don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Not them, not the press, no one.”

You looked into his eyes, and something inside you calmed. There, in his gaze, you saw a reminder of why this was worth it—why he was worth it. Logan’s love was fierce, unwavering, unbothered by the noise of the outside world. His grip on you was steady, grounding, reminding you that while the world might be relentless in its opinions, your relationship was a world in itself, untouched by the chaos outside.

In the following weeks, you began to focus more on the people who supported you, on those who cheered you on. Fan art, letters, and messages poured in from people who felt inspired by your relationship. There were stories from fans who saw your romance as proof that love could be found in unexpected places, that there were still people in the world who loved fully, openly, and without pretense. You shared little glimpses of your life with Logan—a cozy coffee date, a lazy Sunday spent reading together, the way he cooked you breakfast, often burning the toast but always insisting on making it himself.

The support grew, and eventually, it drowned out the negativity. You learned to scroll past the hateful comments, ignoring them in favor of the warm messages of encouragement and love. Fans sent you photos of their own relationships, shared stories of how they met their partners, and thanked you for showing a love story that felt real and grounded. You and Logan became symbols of something rare, a reminder that even in the glamorous world of Hollywood, love could be simple, honest, and unbreakable.

And though Logan still brushed off his fame with a gruff indifference, even he couldn’t ignore the sheer number of fans who now adored him. He’d laugh and shake his head at the fan edits, the swooning comments, and the declarations of love from girls around the world. It was amusing to him, in a way, but he never let it distract from what mattered most to him—you.

On one of the quieter nights, after the frenzy had calmed a bit and life had settled into a new rhythm, Logan pulled you into his arms, his gaze soft and tender. “They can say what they want,” he murmured, his thumb tracing gentle patterns along your hand. “I don’t care about the fans, the reporters, the hate. I care about you. Just you.”

In that moment, you knew that nothing could shake the foundation you had built together. You’d face the public scrutiny, the fan obsessions, and the media circus as long as you had Logan by your side. His love was your safe haven, an anchor in the storm. No matter what the world threw your way, you’d face it together, knowing that what you had was stronger than any headline, truer than any rumor, and more resilient than the relentless opinions of the world outside. And with that knowledge, you finally felt at peace.

But peace never lasts long.

The morning sunlight streamed softly through the blinds, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. You blinked awake, still heavy with sleep, finding yourself entangled with Logan, both of you cocooned in the soft sheets, the remnants of the previous night still lingering in the gentle aches and comfortable mess you lay in. Logan was tucked against you, his face nestled against your chest, arms wrapped securely around your waist. It was one of those rare, quiet moments where his usual stoic, protective demeanor softened completely, replaced with something vulnerable and at peace.

You reached up, gently running your fingers through his messy hair, savoring the way he leaned into your touch, almost nuzzling closer with a content sigh. He was still half-asleep, his breathing steady and deep, and you took a quiet moment to simply enjoy the closeness, the peaceful warmth of his body pressed to yours.

Trying not to disturb him, you carefully reached over to the nightstand for your phone, scrolling through notifications and messages that had piled up overnight. A headline immediately caught your eye, its bold letters practically screaming back at you: “Hollywood It-Couple Split? Inside Sources Say Y/N and Logan Call It Quits.” Your mouth twisted in frustration as you read the so-called “insider scoop,” filled with baseless claims and invented reasons for your supposed breakup. There were even theories about a “rising actor” who had “come between you,” speculating wildly about drama that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

The words clawed at you, stirring irritation—but then you looked down at Logan, blissfully unaware, relaxed and vulnerable in a way only you ever saw. A mischievous idea sparked, and you carefully angled your phone to capture the scene, framing his face nestled against you, his arm looped around your waist, both of you tangled together beneath the sheets. You barely stifled a laugh, sure that Logan would have rolled his eyes if he were awake.

After double-checking the photo, you typed out a quick caption: Woke up to some…interesting headlines this morning. We’re fine, thanks. Adding a winking emoji, you hit Post and set your phone aside, the grin still playing on your lips.

The post took off almost instantly, notifications flooding in as fans and friends alike chimed in. Most comments were thrilled reactions, with fans sending heart emojis and playfully chiding the tabloids for trying to mess with “the ultimate couple.” Others were friends and fellow actors tagging Logan, with messages like “Better watch out—she’s got the receipts!”

As the notifications rolled in, Logan stirred, blinking awake and looking up at you, a sleepy smile tugging at his lips. “Morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep, as he stretched and tightened his arm around you. His eyes shifted to your phone, catching a glimpse of the notifications lighting up the screen. “What’s going on?”

You bit your lip, barely holding back a laugh as you handed him the phone. “Just correcting a few tabloid rumors.”

He squinted at the screen, his expression shifting from confusion to a smirk as he took in the post. “So…we’ve broken up, huh?” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Didn’t realize that’s how I spent my night.”

You snorted, shaking your head as he looked back at you, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Guess they think I dumped you or something,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck. “But, you know, I figured I’d let them know I’m still kind of attached.”

He let out a soft chuckle, leaning down to press a slow kiss to your lips. “Good. Maybe now they’ll back off.” He nestled closer, resting his head back against your chest, his hand finding yours beneath the sheets. His thumb traced gentle circles on your skin, and he took a long, contented breath, settling back down beside you. “But if they keep it up…maybe I’ll give them a real reason to talk.”

You laughed, the two of you lingering in the warmth of each other and the morning, the world and its noise fading completely into the background.

The decision to go public that day felt more like a playful challenge than a chore. After the tabloid drama and breakup rumors, you and Logan wanted to make a statement—and what better way than a casual, romantic date in broad daylight? The plan was to keep it simple: a quiet brunch in one of the city’s more charming cafés, followed by a relaxed walk through a nearby park. It was your kind of day, one that would be easygoing… at least in theory.

As you strolled into the café, Logan’s hand resting firmly on your waist, you couldn’t help but feel a slight thrill at the curious glances that people threw your way. Some recognized you immediately, eyes widening as they connected the dots, their gazes shifting from you to Logan. There was something invigorating about the excitement, the quiet murmur of onlookers exchanging theories and tidbits of information about you two. Logan, however, seemed undeterred. He wore that calm, collected expression, the slightest smirk on his lips as he leaned down to ask, “Are you sure about this?”

You laughed, giving him a quick nudge with your shoulder. “Just relax. If we don’t play into it, maybe the rumors will die down, and everyone can go back to wondering who the next big rom-com couple is.”

Logan chuckled softly, but the humor didn’t mask the possessiveness in his gaze as he looked at you. “Let them look,” he muttered, his voice low and more serious than before. “They’ll get the message.”

You ordered your coffee and pastries, taking a seat by the large window, where sunlight poured in and gave the whole scene a warm glow. Logan stretched an arm along the back of your chair, his fingers tracing idle circles on your shoulder. You leaned into him, savoring the intimacy. His touch was protective, almost territorial, a statement to anyone paying attention. And given the covert snaps you noticed from a couple of phones nearby, people were most definitely paying attention.

As you sipped your coffee, you felt the heat of his gaze on you, and when you looked up, his eyes were smoldering, hinting at the simmering tension between you both. His thumb traced light patterns on your skin, a touch that seemed innocent to anyone watching, but you knew better. You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face.

“Behave,” you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear, grinning.

“Trying to,” he murmured, his lips twitching into a smirk. “You’re making it difficult.”

Just then, a group of young fans approached your table, their excitement barely contained. “Y/N, we’re so sorry to interrupt, but could we maybe get a picture with you?” one of them asked, her voice shaking slightly as she held out her phone.

You smiled warmly and stood up, nodding. “Of course! No need to apologize. It’s great to meet you all!”

Logan remained seated, watching with a mix of pride and amusement as you interacted with them. You could feel his eyes following you, as if even this brief separation was pushing the limits of his patience. When a few other fans spotted you, they hurried over, and you ended up signing a few autographs, sharing laughs, and answering quick questions. But all the while, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Logan’s gaze—protective, possessive—burning into you.

When you finally returned to your seat, you found him leaning back, a smug grin on his face. He reached out, taking your hand in his, but instead of his usual steady grip, he laced his fingers through yours, holding you close, and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. His thumb traced along your knuckles, his eyes gleaming with a mix of pride and heat. “Missed you,” he murmured, his voice low.

You bit your lip, the warmth in his touch sparking a subtle thrill. “I was only gone for a minute.”

“Yeah, well, felt like longer,” he replied, his gaze slipping down to your lips. And with that, he shifted closer, so close that his arm practically enveloped you.

As you exchanged glances, you noticed movement outside the café window. A few paparazzi were hovering, cameras clicking as they angled to get the best view of you two. You suppressed a sigh, your fingers giving his a light squeeze.

Logan noticed them too, and a smirk tugged at his lips. “They’re going to have a field day,” he said, voice low, almost amused.

“Well,” you replied, leaning back in your seat and resting your hand on his leg, “let’s give them a reason to talk.”

Without hesitation, Logan slipped his arm fully around you, his fingers gently tracing up your spine, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. He pulled you in a bit closer, his other hand finding its way to your knee, sending sparks through you. His touch felt like a secret promise, an unspoken agreement that this day would end much differently than it started.

For a while, you both stayed there, the casual intimacy you shared made even more tantalizing by the audience beyond the glass. The café staff seemed oblivious, while the other patrons either pretended not to notice or tried unsuccessfully to hide their intrigue. But Logan’s focus was solely on you, his gaze dark and hungry. When he shifted his hand slightly, trailing his thumb along your thigh, you felt your breath catch. His fingertips pressed into your leg with a subtle possessiveness, and you found yourself pressing closer to him, drawn by the warmth radiating between you.

After what felt like an eternity of heightened tension, you finally looked up at him, the simmering heat between you both almost unbearable. “Maybe we should head back?” you suggested, your voice a little breathless.

Logan’s smirk widened, and he nodded, eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Good idea.”

You left the café, his hand resting on your lower back as he guided you outside. The paparazzi didn’t miss a beat, following as you both made your way down the street. Logan’s arm slipped around your shoulders, pulling you closer, and he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, his touch protective and intimate. You felt the heat of his body against yours, the silent promise in every gentle graze of his fingers, and it made your pulse quicken.

Once you were out of the immediate view of the photographers, Logan’s pace quickened, his hand firmly grasping yours as he practically guided you through the bustling street back toward your penthouse. The urgency in his touch sent a thrill through you, and you matched his steps, the excitement building with every block closer you got.

By the time you reached the front door, he was practically pressing into you, his hands slipping to your waist as he leaned down to capture your lips in a deep, searing kiss. You fumbled with your keys, finally managing to open the door, and Logan wasted no time as he swept you inside, shutting it firmly behind you. His hands found your waist, drawing you close as he kissed you again, his touch heated and demanding, all traces of the earlier restraint gone.

In the elevator up to your penthouse, the air between you was charged, every glance and touch laced with unspoken desire. When the doors finally opened, he pulled you through the hallway, neither of you able to keep your hands off each other. You finally reached the bedroom, and Logan wasted no time, pressing you gently against the door as he captured your mouth in a kiss that was fierce and full of promise. His hands roamed your body, drawing out every shiver and gasp as he reminded you exactly why you were his and no one else’s.

Hours later, the two of you lay tangled in bed, your skin still warm and hearts racing. Logan’s arm was wrapped around you, holding you close as you traced lazy patterns on his chest, both of you basking in the afterglow. His fingers trailed along your back, grounding you in the quiet intimacy that followed the rush of your passion.

You looked up at him, finding his gaze soft and content as he watched you, the earlier fire replaced by a gentle warmth. “That was some date,” you murmured, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Logan chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Best one yet.” He wrapped his arm tighter around you, his hand resting on the small of your back as he held you close. “You think they got the message?”

You laughed, leaning up to kiss him, savoring the way he responded, his touch possessive yet tender. “I’d say so. But even if they didn’t, I think I did.”

Logan’s smirk softened into a smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he gazed at you. “Good,” he murmured, his voice low and full of promise. “Because I’m not letting you go.”

And you believed him when he told you that, maybe it was a mistake.

Logan's departure that morning had been straightforward enough, or so you thought. He’d given you a warm kiss, his hand lingering at the small of your back before he told you he had to step out for a meeting with his boss at the security company. He looked over at you with a reassuring smile, promising to be back soon, and you smiled back, content to spend a few hours on your own, catching up on your script and maybe even indulging in a bath while he was away. But as soon as the door closed behind him, you felt a pang of loneliness tug at you, surprising you with its strength.

Settling into your routine, you tried to distract yourself. The penthouse was quiet, bathed in soft, early-morning sunlight, and you could almost convince yourself to relax as you flipped through the pages of your script. But then, only half an hour after Logan left, your phone buzzed with the first notification, and then another, and another.

With a quick glance, you saw a string of messages, each one loaded with concern—or worse, nosy excitement.

“Did you see?!” “Is it true? I can’t believe it!” “Are you okay, Y/N?”

A frown creased your brow as you scrolled, your stomach sinking. It wasn’t like you to entertain rumors, especially when they came from gossipy texts and half-informed messages. But curiosity, and a rising dread, got the better of you. Taking a deep breath, you tapped on one of the links a friend had sent, dreading what you might find.

The headline blared across the screen: "Hollywood Bodyguard Logan Hunter Seen Entering Hotel of Y/N's Onscreen Rival—Secret Affair?"

You felt a pang in your chest, an ache that spread like ice through your veins. The article went on to detail how Logan was supposedly spotted entering a high-end hotel known for housing out-of-town celebrities. It even specified that just last night, the actress playing your onscreen rival had checked into that very hotel, sparking an avalanche of speculation. Photographers had apparently captured Logan, his head down, wearing his usual serious expression as he slipped through the hotel doors.

Scrolling down, you were greeted with low-quality images that only seemed to confirm what the article suggested. Your stomach twisted as you looked at each one, desperately searching for anything that might tell you it wasn’t him or that this was just some ridiculous, elaborate misunderstanding. But there was no denying the figure in the pictures, no denying his familiar stance and his unmistakable gait.

The words blurred on the screen as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. You wanted to dismiss it as another fabricated rumor, but you couldn’t shake the sick feeling churning inside. Why hadn’t he mentioned meeting anyone else? And why had he gone to a hotel—especially one that you knew was currently hosting the actress you’d been cast against?

Your phone buzzed again, breaking you from your spiraling thoughts. It was a text from your best friend:

“Are you okay? I’m here if you need to talk.”

The floodgates opened, and you wiped at a tear slipping down your cheek. The logical part of you wanted to believe there was some other explanation, that this was all just some twisted coincidence, but doubt gnawed at you. How many times had you seen stories of relationships torn apart by the pressures of Hollywood, of people you thought you knew falling for someone else?

The hours ticked by slowly, each minute dragging as you paced the penthouse, your mind replaying the images of Logan entering the hotel over and over. You tried distracting yourself, tried focusing on the work in front of you, but everything felt meaningless, drowned by a painful insecurity that left you feeling hollow. Every time your phone buzzed with another notification, you felt a jolt of dread, bracing yourself for more damning evidence, more messages laced with pity or curiosity.

By the time the sky had darkened, you’d grown exhausted from waiting, from the endless battle in your mind. Just when you were beginning to think you couldn’t handle it any longer, you heard the click of the front door. Logan stepped in, looking tired but offering you that familiar smile. But one look at you, and his expression softened, worry instantly replacing the calm he’d walked in with.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice gentle as he crossed the room toward you, brow furrowed with concern.

You swallowed, the hurt in your chest making it hard to meet his eyes. But you forced yourself to look up, forcing out the words. “Where were you today, Logan?”

He blinked, clearly not expecting the question. “I told you—I had a meeting with my boss. It was… it took a bit longer than expected.”

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “Why did I see pictures of you going into that hotel? The one where…” Your voice trailed off as you struggled to get the words out. “Where she’s staying?”

Realization dawned in his eyes, and he reached out, but you took a step back, needing space to breathe. The last thing you wanted was to let him see how deeply his absence had hurt you, but you couldn’t help the hurt and confusion that flashed across your face.

Logan’s gaze softened, his shoulders slumping as he realized the depth of your pain. “Y/N… I can explain everything. But please believe me, I would never hurt you. Never.”

His words were soft, sincere, and they tugged at your heart, urging you to believe him. But the images, the articles, and the words of everyone who’d reached out to you that day weighed heavily on your mind.

“Then tell me,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Logan took a deep breath, looking down for a moment before meeting your gaze again. “I was at that hotel, yes, but it had nothing to do with her.” He took a step closer, hands raised in a calming gesture. “My boss, he’s in town for a security conference. He booked a suite there for some meetings, and that’s where we met. I didn’t even know she was staying there, Y/N. And if I had, I would’ve told you.”

Your heart ached as you listened, torn between relief and residual doubt. “But why didn’t you tell me you’d be going somewhere like that?” you asked, the words spilling out, carrying with them the vulnerability you’d tried so hard to hide.

Logan’s expression softened, and he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. “I should have. You’re right. I didn’t think twice about it because it was just a meeting. But I never meant to hurt you, and I certainly didn’t mean to give you any reason to doubt us.” His thumb brushed gently along your cheek, his touch grounding you, and you closed your eyes, leaning into his palm.

He tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’re the only one, Y/N. I don’t care who else is around, or what anyone else thinks. It’s you. Always.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, but this time, it was from relief. His sincerity, the warmth in his eyes, and the quiet conviction in his voice slowly chipped away at the walls you’d built up over the course of the day. You let out a shaky breath, nodding as the tension in your shoulders began to dissolve.

“I was scared,” you admitted, the words spilling out in a whisper. “I didn’t want to believe it, but… seeing those pictures…”

Logan’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, and you buried your face in his chest, letting the warmth of his embrace soothe the ache that had settled in your heart. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I never wanted to put you through that. I should’ve thought it through, should’ve told you exactly where I was.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him through damp lashes, a weak smile tugging at your lips. “I guess I’ve just gotten so used to having you here, with me, that even a few hours apart feels… different.”

He smiled softly, his fingers brushing along your cheek as he gazed down at you. “And I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” His voice was steady, and you felt the weight of his words settle over you, anchoring you in a newfound sense of security.

As the evening continued, the doubt that had clouded your mind all day finally began to dissipate, replaced by the reassurance of his presence. You knew there would always be whispers, rumors, and challenges that came with dating someone in the public eye, but standing there in his arms, you realized that together, you could weather anything.

For the rest of the evening, Logan held you close, his touches soft and gentle as if to make up for the strain you’d endured. You knew that while today had shaken you, it had also strengthened your bond, reinforcing the trust that lay at the heart of your relationship.

And as you fell asleep that night, wrapped securely in his arms, you knew that no matter what headlines the world threw your way, you and Logan would face them together, grounded in a love that was real, unwavering, and stronger than any rumor.

As the gentle rise and fall of your breathing softened into an even rhythm, Logan watched you, a small smile tugging at his lips. You looked so peaceful curled up beside him, your face nestled in the crook of his arm, completely unaware of the world—and of the storm of rumors that had swirled around you all day. The day had been rougher than he’d anticipated; the flood of doubt and worry on your face when he’d walked back into the penthouse had hit him harder than he wanted to admit. And now, with you safely sleeping, he wanted to reassure you and everyone else that he wasn’t going anywhere.

As his eyes drifted toward your phone on the nightstand, an idea crossed his mind, one he hadn’t considered before. Logan wasn’t exactly tech-savvy—social media wasn’t his thing—but he had watched you do enough Instagram lives that he thought he could probably figure it out, even if he wasn’t sure why people watched them. Maybe if he said something himself, directly to the people spreading rumors, they’d get the message. He carefully leaned over, stretching for your phone without disturbing you. Punching in the familiar digits of your anniversary date, the screen unlocked, revealing your Instagram feed. The notifications were relentless: messages, comments, and tags, all seemingly tied to today’s hotel incident.

Taking a deep breath, he found the camera icon, hesitating as he checked the lighting. The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of your bedside lamp, which cast a warm glow over your face as you slept soundly against his chest. He shifted the camera angle to show you snuggled against him, and after a moment of deliberation, he pressed Go Live.

The screen suddenly transformed, displaying a timer and a small notification telling him people were beginning to join the live stream. His brow furrowed as he stared at the screen, suddenly feeling a wave of nerves he wasn’t used to. Hundreds of comments began to flow in, and he squinted at them, trying to make sense of the tiny, fast-moving text.

“Alright, uh…” he began, his voice low and gruff, though he kept his volume low to avoid waking you. He fumbled for a moment, adjusting the angle so more of his face was visible, along with a glimpse of your peaceful form. “So, yeah… I’m not sure exactly how this works, but I think I’m doing it right. People are watching, right?” He squinted at the screen, realizing there were now thousands of people in the chat.

OMG, is that Logan? Is Y/N asleep?! This is so cute! What’s going on? He’s using her phone?!

“Okay, yeah, I see you guys commenting.” He cleared his throat, glancing down at you to make sure you were still fast asleep. “So… I’m here because there’s been some… well, garbage circulating today about me, and I didn’t want you—any of you—to get the wrong idea.”

He ran a hand over his face, clearly uncomfortable but determined. “Look, I’m not the kind of guy who does this ‘social media’ thing. I leave that up to her because she’s got that… influencer magic touch or whatever.” He let out a small huff, almost laughing at himself. “But there’s one thing I won’t tolerate, and that’s people thinking I’d do anything to hurt her. That’s not happening. Not today, not tomorrow. Not ever.”

The comments poured in, filled with everything from declarations of support to playful teasing:

Protective Logan is everything. Never thought I’d see this man on IG live. Logan is going OFF and I’m here for it. Who else is already recording this?

Logan sighed, glancing down at you with an unmistakable softness in his gaze. “She’s everything to me,” he said, his voice dropping to a gentle murmur. “I know you all see us together on red carpets or in the news or whatever, but what you don’t see is this.” He adjusted the phone so it framed you perfectly, curled up in his arms, the corners of your lips turned up in a peaceful smile. “This is her. My girl. She’s got the softest heart in the world, and today… today she was hurting because of something stupid. Something that never even happened.”

He paused, as if collecting his thoughts, then let out a breath. “People are saying I’m seeing someone else. They got pictures of me going into some hotel, and yeah, I was there, but it was for a meeting with my boss. That’s it.” He emphasized the words, his eyes narrowing as if daring anyone watching to argue. “She knows now; I explained it to her, and she trusts me. That’s what matters. But just in case any of you want to keep talking about it… remember this.”

The camera shifted slightly as he moved his hand, gently running his fingers through your hair as he looked down at you. “This is the only place I want to be. Right here, with her.”

The comments exploded.

THIS IS THE CONTENT WE DESERVE Is he really doing this while she’s sleeping? Protect them at all costs, pls. Logan, you absolute legend.

Logan squinted again at the comments, clearly struggling to keep up. “There’s… a lot of words on here,” he muttered, looking slightly flustered. “Not sure I get how you guys read all this so fast. Anyway, I just wanted to set the record straight. I’m not seeing anyone else, I’m not cheating on her, and honestly, if you keep saying it… well, I’m not gonna be happy about it. And you don’t want to see me unhappy.”

There was a beat of silence as he scratched his head, visibly uncomfortable but pushing through, clearly determined to make his point. “Look, I don’t care about fame, or fans, or what any of you say about me. I’m here for her. I want to protect her, to take care of her. If any of you really care about her too, then… then don’t buy into this nonsense. Don’t let them tear us apart with stupid rumors.”

Another wave of comments flooded in, and he leaned forward, trying to read a few.

Can we talk about how soft he looks rn? Why is this the cutest thing ever? Logan’s angry rants are kinda romantic?!

“Yeah, yeah, I see some of you making jokes,” he grumbled, though his lips twitched as he read the reactions. “Think I’m soft, huh? Well, maybe I am—maybe I am a little bit soft when it comes to her.” He looked down at you, his features softening again. “She deserves it. She deserves everything.”

He paused, scratching his head again, then sighed in defeat. “Alright, how do I turn this thing off? Seriously, does anyone know?” He squinted at the screen, tapping at random buttons and muttering to himself. “I swear, I’m gonna break this thing if it doesn’t—”

The comments came to his rescue:

Top right, Logan! Hit the ‘X’! Someone help this man before he deletes her whole profile.

“Right, thanks,” he grumbled, following the instructions. “And if any of you save this video or… or make this into some kind of meme, I’m gonna find out. Got it?”

With one final glance at you, Logan ended the livestream, letting out a long exhale as he set the phone down. He looked down at you, his heart swelling with relief and affection as he watched you sleep peacefully, blissfully unaware of the emotional monologue he’d just delivered to thousands of fans.

Unbeknownst to him, the livestream was already gaining traction, clips of his soft, protective words flooding the internet. By morning, #LoganProtectsY/N and #SoftLogan were trending, with fans dissecting every second of his heartfelt speech. They praised his loyalty, laughed at his awkward attempts at using Instagram, and swooned over the way he’d looked at you, sleeping in his arms.

But for Logan, all that mattered was knowing that he’d done everything he could to protect you. He’d cleared the air, shut down the rumors, and, hopefully, sent a message to anyone who dared question his commitment.

When you woke up hours later, snuggled in his arms, you had no idea of the viral sensation that had taken place while you slept. Logan greeted you with a quiet kiss, a content smile on his face as if nothing had happened.

It wasn’t until you reached for your phone and saw the thousands of notifications, trending hashtags, and tags of Logan’s accidental “love confession” that you looked up at him, wide-eyed and stunned.

“Logan… what did you do?” you asked, a mix of amusement and surprise in your voice.

He simply shrugged, his expression calm as he held you close. “Just told them the truth.”

It didn’t take long for Logan’s unexpected livestream to become a global sensation. In the days following, clips of his heartfelt speech continued to circulate, with fans clamoring for more of his accidental charm. The two of you were trending for days, fans flooding the comments with supportive messages, heart emojis, and endless excitement over Logan’s protectiveness and gruff sweetness. You couldn’t resist laughing when you saw the #SoftLogan hashtag popping up alongside video edits and reaction memes. And as soon as you showed Logan, his eyes rolled, but his cheeks flushed, a telltale sign that he secretly loved it.

So, when the holiday season rolled around and you suggested going live together—on purpose this time—Logan didn’t put up much of a fight. A Christmas-themed livestream, with baking and festive lights? He pretended to be indifferent, but you could tell he was secretly looking forward to it. The idea of spending the holidays together was already a dream, and now, getting to share a cozy, lighthearted moment with fans made it even better.

And so, a few days before Christmas, the two of you set up in your kitchen. The decorations were up, twinkling lights wrapping around the windows and mistletoe hung strategically above you—an idea Logan had teased you about at first but eventually grew fond of himself. The flour, sugar, butter, and other baking ingredients were all lined up on the counter as you set up your phone on a tripod.

You hit the Go Live button and waited as viewers began flooding in, the comments coming in almost immediately.

OMG they’re back together in a live! Are we getting a SoftLogan Christmas special?! Y/N, girl, blink twice if you’re safe with Logan in the kitchen! Does Logan even know how to bake?!

You glanced over at Logan, who was already eyeing the ingredients with a mix of curiosity and mild apprehension. “Alright, everyone,” you began with a grin, addressing the growing audience. “We’re going to attempt to bake Christmas cookies today. And by ‘attempt,’ I mean Logan has promised to help, even though he has very limited experience in the kitchen.”

“Limited?” Logan scoffed, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow at you. “I’m not that bad.”

“You burn toast,” you shot back, laughing. “So, yes, we’re going to attempt baking Christmas cookies, and I can already tell this is going to be… interesting.”

The comments were rolling in faster than you could read them:

Logan is definitely the guy who thinks ‘preheating’ is optional. We love to see Y/N dragging him; the dynamic is everything! CAN WE PLEASE SEE LOGAN IN A SANTA APRON?!

You grinned at the last comment and nudged Logan. “The fans want to know if you’re willing to wear the Santa apron.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but you noticed the small smile on his lips. “No way am I wearing an apron with Santa on it,” he protested, but he reached for it, putting it on with exaggerated reluctance. “Only because it’s Christmas,” he muttered, the red apron looking unexpectedly charming on him.

As you got started, Logan reached for the flour, spilling an unnecessary amount onto the counter in his attempt to pour it into the mixing bowl. You couldn’t hold back your laugh as you tried to rein in his enthusiasm.

“Logan! We only need a cup of flour, not the entire bag,” you teased, wiping some of the flour off the counter.

He shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Can’t make cookies without flour. I’m just… being thorough.”

You shook your head, adjusting the camera slightly to catch both of you as you attempted to salvage the flour situation. Your fans were in hysterics in the comments:

We love a man who’s thorough, Y/N! Does Logan think flour is the only ingredient?! Imagine calling this thoroughness ‘baking skills.’

“Next is sugar,” you continued, holding the measuring cup out. “And we need half a cup, half, Logan. Not ‘one heaping mountain,’ just half.”

He gave you a look of pure innocence, his hand hovering over the sugar as he tried to pour it carefully. But his definition of “half” was still far more than necessary, and you bit back laughter, shaking your head. “We’re making cookies, not cement, Logan!”

Logan chuckled, a soft laugh that brought a twinkle to his eye. “Look, this is harder than it looks, alright? You just tell me what to do, and I’ll follow.”

You shot him a skeptical look but continued with the instructions, going step-by-step as he did his best to keep up. Between his overly generous measurements and your frequent corrections, the kitchen was quickly filled with laughter and playful banter.

When it came time to roll out the dough, Logan took the rolling pin in his hands, looking at it like it was an alien object. “How hard can this be?” he muttered, pressing down on the dough with way too much force, causing it to stick to the counter and flatten beyond recognition.

“Logan!” you cried out, laughing so hard your stomach hurt. “You’re supposed to be gentle with it, like… like when you’re putting your arm around me or something.”

“Oh, like that,” he said, his tone teasing. He softened his touch, rolling the dough more delicately, though it was still sticking in awkward patches. You tried to help him, guiding his hands, and by the end, the two of you were a flour-covered, laughing mess.

“Okay, now we’re going to use these cookie cutters,” you said, holding up a few shapes: a snowman, a reindeer, and a Christmas tree. “Pick your favorite.”

“Easy.” Logan grabbed the reindeer cutter, pressing it into the dough and proudly holding it up. “Reindeer cookies it is.”

The two of you cut out the rest of the shapes, arranging them on the baking sheet and finally putting them in the oven. As the cookies baked, you read through more fan comments, laughing with Logan at the endless string of humorous observations and questions.

Please tell me Logan won’t be in charge of frosting. This man is dangerously close to ruining Christmas cookies. But seriously, they look so cute together. I’m calling it now: Logan doesn’t even know how to use an oven timer.

Logan furrowed his brows at the last comment. “Wait, we need a timer?”

“Logan!” You let out a laugh, immediately setting the timer yourself. “Yes, we need a timer. Otherwise, we’ll just have burnt reindeer shapes instead of cookies.”

When the timer finally went off, you took the cookies out, laughing together over the misshapen but somehow adorable treats. The two of you set about decorating, Logan’s hands steady but not quite precise as he attempted to pipe frosting on a reindeer. The result was… less than impressive, and you both burst out laughing at his attempt.

“Alright, alright,” he muttered, trying to hide his embarrassment as the fans commented enthusiastically.

Logan’s reindeer is questionable, but we stan his effort. I’d still eat it! Best rom-com scene ever.

Finally, with the cookies decorated, you turned back to the camera, holding up a plate of your (very creatively decorated) creations. “Well, here you have it, folks. Our version of Christmas cookies! We may not be experts, but we had fun, right, Logan?”

“More fun than I expected,” he admitted, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “Thanks for making me do this.”

You smiled up at him, and for a moment, you forgot all about the livestream. That was, until the comments started rolling in faster than ever:

OMG did he just look at her like that?! THE SOFT LOOK, I CAN’T. Guys, please tell me you saw that too. He’s going to propose. He has to.

Logan read the comments, his face shifting to something both nervous and determined. He glanced at you, taking a deep breath as he reached into his pocket, fingers grazing over something small and shiny. You looked at him, curious, as he took your hands in his.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice suddenly a little rough. “These last few months… they’ve been everything to me. I didn’t think I’d ever be the guy doing Christmas cookie livestreams or… any of this social media stuff. But I’d do it every day for you.”

Your heart was pounding as he knelt down on one knee, pulling a ring box from his pocket and opening it to reveal a beautiful, sparkling ring.

The comments erupted into chaos, but you barely noticed, your focus entirely on him as he held your gaze.

“I don’t know if this is the way you imagined it, but…” he smiled, that soft smile that had become your favorite. “Will you marry me?”

Tears filled your eyes as you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. You threw your arms around him, laughing through the tears as you whispered a quiet, “Yes.”

The fans went wild, and Logan chuckled, holding you close as you realized that the whole world had just witnessed your engagement. But in that moment, nothing else mattered. You were in his arms, right where you belonged. And as he slipped the ring onto your finger, both of you covered in flour and frosting, you couldn’t have imagined a more perfect, hilariously romantic proposal.

The comments from fans cheering and congratulating the two of you were endless, but Logan just looked at you, a gentle pride in his eyes as he whispered, “Merry Christmas, love.”

it's November so it's basically Christmas I don't make the rules I'm sorry, maybe at December I could start a new game where you can request any type of fanfics set in Christmas? Or something like that? let me know in the comments If you have other ideas! <3

if you liked the story don't forget to like, reblog and drop a follow if you want to read more!

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - It's 2024 & I'm talking about TayNew... really?

(They pretty much told us all to sit down and shut tf up, 'cause they got this. AND THEY DO.)

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Feb 2024 Wk 3

Ongoing Series - Thai

Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube grey) ep 9 of 12 - I broke. In my defense, it was Monday, I needed comfort, and TayNew were right tf there. Ya know what? They are great in this show. It's a great adaptation. I might like it more than the JBL live action. You know why? Really, honestly WHY...?

That was a PHENOMENAL KISS. Those boys did Thailand fucking proud. They did fandom a solid. Thank you OGs for reminding us how it's done. I was getting used to SloppyHot. And SloppyHot has its place, but that TayNew rooftop kiss was a top tear class act. It was tender and sweet and respectful and joyful. It was eye work and breath work and years of practice. How very far BL has come while still staying so much the same. TayNew - I salute you!

(Read all about distribution issues here.)

The Sign (Sat YT) ep 12fin - we waiting, I guess? Bah.

Cooking Crush (Sun YT) ep 11 of 12 - The recipe book thing was so damn cute and I love a claiming. YOU KNOW I LOVE A CLAIMING!

In fact, I love OffGun.

I love food based BL.

I adored seeing a reboot of "the infamous dragging". 

But I don’t love anything else about this show. Sigh.

1000 Years Old ep 1 of 12 - Finally we get our gay vampire BL from Feel Good Bangkok. Stars Shane (My Engineer) and fresh face Opal, directed by Champ (2gether). It’s kind of odd but enjoyable. A group of teen UFO seekers find a vampire instead. Opal looks a bit like a mix between Newnu + Leo (VIXX) - so cute + edge. Also, nice to see Shane again on our screens after so long. 

Finally, I like the subtle (and sometimes not subtle) presence of ghosts permeating this show. Do the friends know she's there? Do they know she's dead? Is the existence of paranormal accepted but not that of aliens? Or are the two combined? Is this lazy writing or just fun world building? Who cares! It's enjoyable.

For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 12fin - the nail painting bit was very cutie queers and I've not seen it done in BL before, so that was nice. For some reason captions never dropped for me on this last episode, but it didn’t really matter. Not much happened and I understood everything anyway.

Quick pitch?

From the people who brought us Unforgotten Night based on a y-novel, about a young man nursing a heartbreak who has a one-night stand, but the other boy didn't want it to end. This turned out to be a pulp that wasn’t half as good as it should have been and even less memorable, but not terrible. 5/10 DON'T BOTHER unless you're v bored

City of Stars (Fri iQIYI) ep 3 of 12 - Oh it is such a pulp: the acting is not good and the script is terrible. Of course, I’m mildly enjoying it. Very good dream kissing. There's something appealing about these main characters - I think it's the moot crushes. We rarely get to see that. These days everything feels very one sided, this... isn't.

A Secretly Love (Thai WeTV) - Khonprot, a third-year hazer of the engineering faculty, has a secret crush on Pluem, a tsundere fourth-year head hazer. Over the years, he's seen Pluem cycle through girlfriends. Recently, after a public breakup, however, Khonprot thinks maybe a boy has a chance.

I tried but I can't get into my WeTV account anymore and I'm way too lazy to figure it out. I'll catch it grey if I can, since I've rebooted the bootlegging side of my BL life for Cherry Magic anyway.

So this show may stay in this section, or I may bump it down to "it's airing but..."

If anyone is watching it, let me know if it's good?

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Love For Love's Sake (Korea Weds iQIYI) 7-8fin - Ugh it was GREAT, despite some pretty telling flaws. I ended up feeling like some of the filming was amateurish (very overworked low angles - director's first feature, I assume), and the narrative is a little disjoined and on the nose, AND the subs are clumsy (which I don't expect from KBL) BUT I still loved it. (FYI - I wouldn't be so harsh on a BL for this kinda thing except one from Korea.)

Quick pitch:

This isekai-based KBL is about a man who must win a game by convincing a reserved teen outcast to fall in love with him. Of course, that teen represents himself and his own unhappiness. Like many queer narratives, this show is actually about self worth, trust, and found family, and it is VERY on the nose. But I don’t expect subtlety from my BL and I enjoyed it's truly lovely redemption arc and earnest performances. While I found the narrative a touch disjointed with overworked filming angles and poorer than average captions, this is certainly much better than early KBL in terms of consistency of tone, script, and immersion. Highly rewatchable and charming, which counts for a lot. 9/10

Trigger warning for suicide depicted.

Perfect Propose (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 4 of 6 - Gosh, it’s so lovely. But I do just constantly want to give them both hugs. 

AntiReset (Taiwan Fri Viki/Gaga) ep 4 of 10 - Oh look, Taiwan has created yet another BL where I spend most of the time watching it grinning like an idiot. Surprise surprise. The pet name thing was fucking adorable. Also Taiwan once more proving they come by their "kings of kissing" title honestly. I mean to say. In a week of good kisses this one was just... WOW.

On the other hand, some of the underpinning themes are starting to v worry me (ownership, consent, age), and we only just got started, and I don't trust this production company so... I have concerns.

But also... YAY KISSES!

(I'm made of weak moral fiber.)

Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 6 of 10 - Like many other shows on this list. I just enjoy it the most when the two leads are on screen together. So this episode was kind of lacking because they were apart for most of it. I also am starting to agree with the tone of the plot, that maybe they ARE better off as friends not lovers. (And I'm sure I'm not supposed to want that.) Oh Japan, must you?

My Strawberry Film (Japan Gaga) ep 1 of 8 - Oh it’s good. In the arthouse lane so don’t expect sweetness & light or an HEA. If there’s no cartoon aspect to a JBL, there’s usually no joy. But it is certainly good. Teens uncover some old film and a mystery around a pretty girl. The background music is wildly annoying (and rarely in the background). 

It's Done

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - will binge when I have any spare time. 2024 is crazy busy for me so far.

The Servant and the Young Master - from Vietnam, it's on YouTube. I will give it a try when I have a window of time.

Began Beginning (Myanmar YouTube) - A Burmese BL? @heretherebedork vouched for it, so I will give it a watch.

7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) - Gave me Luminous Solution vibes have decided not to watch.

It's Airing But...

Dead Friend Forever (Thai iQIYI) - rumors are it's interesting. I'm waiting to know how it ends.

Ossans Love Season 2 (Japan Gaga) - 5 years later, will anything have changed? This is Japan so… probubly not. I won't be watching this. I disliked Season one and actively hated the follow ups. No thank you.

Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 14 eps - Dear Playboyy, it's not you, it’s me… I hate you. You’re about as deep (and as palatable) as a shot glass of cum. While I'm sure you’re someone’s kink, you're my weakest link. Goodbye. I DNFed this at ep 5. Frankly I'm impressed with myself for getting that far.

Time the series (Tue Gaga/YT) 10 eps - dropped it at ep 4.

Next Week Looks Like This:

2/24 Unknown (Taiwan Youku) 12 eps - Older brother tough guy breadwinner looks after his sister and defacto adopted little brother. Little bother falls in love with him and is sent away after a stolen kiss. But when he comes back…

Sam Lin has a cameo so even if I wasn't already excited, I'm in. We should be on our guard though, Taiwan will occasionally go edgy, dark, and sad... this could go there.

One assumes GMMTV is filling in the BL time slot with something queer on their YT Channel after Cooking Crush ends, they gonna lose subs if they don't. But I've not been paying attention to the chatter so I don't know which of their line-up it will be. I think G4 are filming/off radar now, and Earth is in that het noona thing? Plus they gotta sort out the IP for MIx-Up and Ossen. So it won't be one of the announced adaptations. They'll hold My Golden Blood for the high season, so I think it'll be one of the lesser known lead-outs. Wandee or Only Boo maybe? But they only just started filming those. Are we getting our long awaited GL? Anything else left from 2023 that I forgot about?

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Two crawling kisses from Thailand this week. Now this is a fetish I didn't know I had. Turns out, we love this one! (*waves hand in air* I speak for all of us now.)

Cooking Crush

City of Stars

Possibly the best tsundere to cinnamon roll pivot we've had in a long time.

Also the best asshole to KING pivot. Could we have a whole drama staring this character now? Please?

And finally our sunshine learning to love himself.

SIGH. what a lovely show.

And a good SMILEY kiss from a KBL.

And then some cute cuddles? Korea is spoiling me these days. I'm catching expectations now. What's next? Japan learns to kiss in their light BLs? Ha! I kill me.

(All Love for Love's Sake).

(Last week)

[gwojo]

Nanami Kento as ur bf

FEATURING: Nanami Kento (七海建人)

nanami kento x gn!reader, fluff, slight angst if u squint, things he'd do for u if u were together! wordcount: 995

Nanami is a very practical person and a very serious one at most to the point its funny, he isn't a big tease unlike gojo but he's very serious when it comes to love, he's a "date to marry" typa guy.

He scrolled through dating apps (which gojo recommended him) countless of times and just scoffed at himself thinking it was really stupid not until he saw you on his screen (you were just trying it out for laughs and giggles with ur friends) and you guys matched!

Let's just say you both went on dates, the first date was awkward but it had a hint of sweetness along the way, nanami is a very gentle but sweet guy, at first you didn't think it would work but then he messaged you saying that you guys would schedule another date (bro you couldn't sleep that whole night)

He had sharp masculine features and he was so gentleman coded, he's regarded as the MOST gentleman in jjk

You guys ended up dating, who would've guessed?! it kinda took longer than most dates you've ever had (hardly about 6 months) but all the meets up and dates were worth it, nanami fell for you.

We al know he's a busy man, so strict with the time and HATES working overtime (mainly because he has a scheduled time of 1 or 2 hours with you since u guys haven't started living together)

After that problem, you guys started living together! so he could always come home with you cooking dinner for the both of you so he could sneak up and hold your waist while mumbling a soft "hey sweetheart" (he suggested the idea of living together since u always had trouble getting inside his apartment door)

Call names were frequent and rarely your name was called by him, only when he had to tell you something serious. He mostly calls you "Sweetheart, darling, love"

He has very dry humor ngl.. and he rarely isn't teasing you, he's so dry humored to the point its so funny for you. You asked him once if he'd love you even if you were a worm, he ended up staring at you in disbelief and seriously asked "what do you mean, love?" and you couldn't help but burst out laughing bc of his confused face. At rare occasions he joins you whenever you're teasing him when he actually understands that you're joking or just either takes it seriously and his confused stare or gaze makes u laugh a lot

His favorite part about you is your smile, voice, and laugh (actually let's just say everything)

He's very protective towards you and he recently found out that you started working on a bakery café he always went to before he starts his day, nanami softly told you that you should stop working there because he'd be the one who's gonna take care the both of you financially.

You politely declined because you weren't working for money but to serve others and bring a smile to their faces even if it's just a simple coffee or a pastry given to him, he ended up agreeing and lets you be because he loves u so much and respects your decision when he heard you out. (he ended up going there everyday ordering a single piece of pastry each day which lasted ab 1-2 months)

When he ordered the last piece of pastry that had ever existed in that bakery café, you teased him saying "this will be the last pastry you'll ever order!" while you gave him a devious grin as he just smiled at you

The next day.. you didn't expect him to start ordering every drink in the shop each day.. (which lasted another month or so)

You eventually got fired because someone blamed you for spilling the drinks you were handing out to them and led to a big commotion throughout the place. You ended up crying the way home and when he saw you crying in your front doorstep, he immediately reached out for you and held you tight while whispering lovely things in your ears.

Let's just say he went to the bakery the next day and insisted to talk to the manager and talked it out that it wasn't your fault and defended you. (he won the argument and u guys ended up trying the new bakery next door and u started working there too <3)

Text messages are constant when he's overseas, he's also a very call guy rather than a text guy because he also likes hearing your voice bc it reassures him that you're still there for him (he reminds you everyday to eat and to do the things that you love)

He wont admit to the feeling of being jealous or upset, and its hard to let you know ab the way he feels bc of his poker face but the more you spend time with him, you realize the way his lips crack into a slight pout when he's sad or a slight curve when he's happy around you

He always has pictures of you on his phone whenever you guys go out, mostly picnic dates or just Paris dates yk yk?

He isn't very picky but he's very suggestive at things you wear (not in a way where he'll stop you w/ wearing what you want bc THAT MAN can fight for you) but he suggest things that look good better on you and you agree with him. He also respects you a lot as a person and he suggests in a calm and reassuring tone as he tries to understand when he doesn't, he's a very matured person and he knows how to be composed.

he loves walking at night time with you, or at bridges with just beautiful lights shining on you both while he puts his hand on your waist as you both look up at the street lights.

reblogs are appreciated! thank you for reading.

— © gwojo 2023. pls i advise u not to share on tiktok, plagiarize, repost on other platforms, copy, or translate.

[thescarletnargacuga]

MOVIE NIGHT

A BUNNYDOLL ONESHOT

WARNING: none! Only wholesome comfort and relaxation

~~~

Ragatha stood outside Jax's door holding an arm full of snacks. It was finally movie night. Every few adventures or so, depending on how traumatic they were, Ragatha and Jax would set aside time for each other and just relax with some public domain cartoons. Those were the closest things to movies the circus offered.

She knocked. It took a second but Jax answered with a confused look on his face. "Rags, you don't have to knock. You afraid you got the wrong room or something?"

"I was just being polite, but now that you mention it... I think I do have the wrong room. Byyyyye." She turns with a smirk on her face.

"Ah-ah-ah, get your raggedy [%$!#] in here." He wraps his long arm around her waist and pulls a giggling Ragatha into his room. He kept his arm around her as she tossed the snacks onto the bed and turned to face him.

Ragatha held Jax's face as he leaned down to kiss her. It was a gentle, casual kiss. It was welcoming after the adventure they had that day. They embraced and stood holding each other for a long time, letting the stress of the world melt away in each other's warmth. They didn't need words; this was their safe place to let their guard down.

"I worried about you..." Ragatha broke the silence.

Jax squeezed tighter. "I know. I didn't see the stupid pitfall. But I'm okay. Worst case scenario, Caine would have found me."

"I don't like it when he searches, he always makes it so dramatic. Like he'll only find your corpse or something." Ragatha pulled away just enough to look him in the face. "I don't like picturing that."

"You don't have to, we can't die here." Jax half shrugged. "You gotta stop letting your mind run away with such things."

".... I wish it were that easy."

"Hey..." He leaned closer, looking deep into her beautiful blue eye. "You're stuck with me, and no amount of wishful thinking is going to get rid of me."

She smiled a little and pecked his lips. "Good. So, what are we watching?"

"The [%$#!] if I know." He turned the TV on that sat across from his bed and sat on the snack covered sheets. Ragatha hopped up next to him, the bed sinking them together.

Black and white short cartoons danced across the screen. Most of them featured no dialogue, only music and sound effects. Ragatha opened a bag of chips and fed some to Jax as she munched.

Jax held an arm around Ragatha the whole time. The touch was a source of comfort for him. Like a reminder that she was really there, he wasn't dreaming. He stole occasional side glances at her, secretly admiring her. He enjoyed seeing candid moments where she simply existed without putting on an overly cheery smile.

Sometimes Ragatha would feel his stare and catch him. He'd look away and she'd smile, playfully nudging her shoulder into him as a silent : I saw that, you big softy. His cheeks would darken just a little. She thought it was adorable.

When the cartoons featured slapstick, Jax would be the first to laugh at the ridiculous violence. Ragatha being the one admiring him this time. He rarely laughed so genuinely. For him to be so caught up with mirth he was laid out on the bed with tears in his eyes, she couldn't help but find it endearing.

An evil idea struck her. While he was distracted, she tickled him. She did so lightly, in case he really didn't like it, but he howled with laughter. He curled away from her and playfully glared back. "Oh, now you've done it." He strikes back, tickling and wrestling with her, knocking snacks off the bed.

Ragatha was in a fit of giggles and could barely breathe from laughter. "OKAY!! OKAY!! UNCLE!!" She gave up under him, he relaxed and flopped his whole body on top of her like a weighted blanket, his chin resting on her chest. Ragatha slowly calmed and gently ran her hand over Jax's head, folding his ears back.

She smiled at him, a returned smile in his eyes as he looked up at her. "I love you, Jax. You big goof."

His pupils dilated. "Mrr rumphth uuu twu." He said, muffled against her chest.

Ragatha didn't need him to repeat himself, she literally felt him say it. Her heart fluttered and sang with joy. She leaned back and relaxed into the mattress. Slowly, in each other's arms, they found peace and fell into a restful sleep.

[owen-writes]

Hi! Can I request 10th Doctor x gn reader

Where reader is chilling with the doctor in the console room and just talking about things, and suddenly after Doctor says something reader says „Knowing you, you’d make a whole library fit in here” „Well-„ „No.” „*stares akwardly*”

And they just explore Tardis till they find said library

I hope it’s not too much to ask🤍

TARDIS Library

10th Doctor x Gender Neutral Reader

You sit cross-legged on the grating of the TARDIS console room, the hum of the time machine vibrating beneath you. The Doctor, your dear friend and occasional rescuer, is tinkering with some buttons and levers, his eyes focused on the ever-shifting screens.

"So, Doctor," you begin, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you, "have you ever thought about organizing your books?"

He glances up, his expressive brown eyes meeting yours, "Books? In the TARDIS? Why would I do that?"

You grin mischievously, "Knowing you, you'd make a whole library fit in here."

The Doctor raises an eyebrow, a playful smile quirking his lips, "Well..."

You tease, "No..."

He pauses, looking around, "There's one here somewhere."

A playful spark ignites in your eyes as you stand up, prompting the Doctor to join in your enthusiasm. The two of you start exploring the winding corridors of the TARDIS, your footsteps echoing through the vastness of the ship.

As you turn a corner, you catch a glimpse of an ornate wooden door tucked away in a quiet alcove. You nudge the Doctor, who follows your gaze. With a shared sense of curiosity, you approach the door, and as you open it, you find yourselves standing at the entrance of a breathtaking library.

Shelves upon shelves of books stretch out in all directions, their spines holding the stories of countless worlds and adventures. The Doctor's eyes light up, and you can't help but chuckle at the sight of his sheer delight.

"Would you look at that!" he exclaims, practically bounding into the room. "I completely forgot about this little gem."

You follow him, running your fingers along the dusty spines of the books. The Doctor starts regaling you with stories of each tome, anecdotes from his past encounters with various authors and fictional characters.

As you listen, you can't help but feel a warm fondness for the eccentric Time Lord. His enthusiasm is infectious, and the way he protects you, a mere mortal amidst the chaos of time and space, makes your heart swell with gratitude.

Lost in the sea of stories, the Doctor suddenly turns to you, a serious expression crossing his features, "You know, you're like a rare book, full of surprises and never ceasing to amaze me."

You blush at the compliment, "And you, Doctor, are like the ultimate adventure novel, with twists and turns at every corner."

He grins, that trademark grin that has a way of making your troubles disappear, "Well then, my dear reader, let's keep turning these pages together."

And with that, the two of you continue exploring the timeless library within the TARDIS, your friendship woven into the very fabric of its existence.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Can we take a moment and talk about

Miguel, Hobie, and the Black!Reader

a.k.a Black Men aren't the only one who date black women so why are there only Black!Readers for black characters????

Don't think anyone has said it but I would like to see Miguel with some Black readers/Black OCs.

Like, I wanna see Miguel with a Boujee black woman, a loud one, a meek one, a stallion, a petite one-

I just wanna see Miguel x Black!Readers and Miguel x Black!OCs.

Black people are everywhere, in every fandom.

So black readers should be giving rep everywhere - not just with radical black characters like Hobie

Black women and black people in general IRL have our features demonized or looked down upon. In media, in the beauty industry, the fashion industry, hair industry, you name it. Our skin tones are 'too dark' to match well with makeup, our bodies too curvy or different, or hair too thick and hard to manage.

I think having characters openly express interest in them is radical - whether the character themselves are black or not.

The reason the Black Representation within Hobie romance fics stands out so much because every other character LACKS that.

In almost every other x reader fandom, black people and our features are ignored and erased for 'sweeter' things like blushing or 'running their fingers through your hair'

Like... Why can't there be a fic where Miguel compliments his Black partners hair. Or tries soul food?

You don't have to be a radical leftist like Hobie to find black people attractive.

So there's no reason for black!Reader to be confined to Hobie - or black characters at all.

You can write Dean Winchester with a Black!Reader. Or Sherlock Holmes, or Hobie Brown, or Miguel O'Hara.

Attraction to black people is so often seen as a fetish - that most white people and white characters never openly exhibit admiration or love towards black features and culture. They'd rather push us and our differences aside because acknowledging them and their beauty makes people uncomfortable. But those same characters will always 100% be implied to find white women attractive.

And in the Superhero Movie Sphere it's even worse.

ie. It's VERY VERY rare you will find Tony Stark with a Black woman.

The large majority of the women you see with Tony Stark early in the movies are WHITE. The ones he's taking to at galas and playing roulette in front of and kicking out after one night stands - White and blonde. If he sleeps with them - white and blonde.

And that's fine in the general population - a nonblack man who 'loves women' and loves sex just... not being seen with black women at all.

But if Tony Stark went two movies sleeping with only women that aren't white - uh-oh!! That draws attention!!

It's completely okay and not a fetish to be super attracted to white features in isolation, but if you take interest in non-white features without validating white women in the same breath then you're nasty and a fetishist and a racist.

Another example - Batman.

Zoe Kravitz was the first time we've seen Batman openly go after a black woman since maybe Eartha Kitt in 1967 - OVER 50 years apart

In the Christian Bale movies - he never flirts with black women. This classy, smooth Bruce Wayne isn't seen interacting with them. I mean... Why? Does he not like them? Or are the all the black people in Gotham just too poor to be around him to begin with?

????????? That don't add up. But that's how most characters are.

If a nonblack male character is shown in a relationship with a woman - the chances of that woman being cast as a black woman hits the FLOOR.

Their first choice is almost always white.

And the saddest thing is

Spider-Man is the biggest example of black erasure in romance and the effects it causes.

That's why when Zendaya got cast as MJ - it was a problem.

Because before then, during the 70 semi years of Peter Parker's existence - he was never shown on screen being attracted to black women in any capacity.

Betty, Gwen, Felicia, MJ - all white. In the cartoons, white. In the remake, white. Silk is probably one of - if not the - first POC we see Peter with. And they don't date, they've never been shown on screen, and over the past years Cindy has had a better written relationship with Felicia than she ever had with Peter.

For half a century we were conditioned to believe that Peter Parker dated white women with no representation or deviation.

Back in 2016 when TASM series was coming out, if you were a black reader who wanted to see yourself represented in any way or capacity on screen or in Fandom - good luck.

We're use to seeing these very romantically forward guys never flirting or fucking or dating black women. We're conditioned to accept this as normal.

It takes a genuine toll.

That's why when I was younger, I use to feel so insecure. Wondering if my favorite characters or celebrities would even find me slightly attractive. The idea that my favorite character wouldn't find me attractive because they've never been seen with a Black partner or interest ever not even once in passing hurts.

As a teen I just accepted that these characters 'Don't like black people' and can't find them attractive in that capacity. Because I mean, I have no reason to think they do - when most nonblack characters won't even look at a black female character for longer than 5 seconds.

Growing up I just accepted that these characters and the fandom as a whole did not see anything beautiful about me because of my race.

That's why Black readers should be more widespread.

We should be telling people that non-black men finding black women attractive is NORMAL.

I read SO many fics of black characters and go 'okay but they wrote reader as white.'

I have NEVER read a fic of a non-black character and gone 'okay they wrote the reader as Black'

Y'all.... You can write interracial relationships with characters that aren't black.

Interracial Relationships are not a special magic tool you can use to pair black characters up with non-black readers. Interracial Relationships go both ways.

If you're down for writing Hobie x NonBlack!Reader and writing an interracial relationship there - why are y'all not down for Miguel x Black!Reader?

Why are interracial relationships good when the black man experiences attraction outside his race towards nonblack people - but bad/unlikely when the nonblack man experiences attraction outside his race towards black people?

'Hobie loves everyone' Okay, Miguel would too. But I don't see the 'Hobie Loves' people rushing and pushing for inclusion in the Miguel tag. They don't care if fanwriters show Miguel 'loving everyone'.

They don't go -

'Miguel loves latinas, Miguel loves black women' in Miguel's tag.

Even though nonblack men experience attraction towards black people and black women everyday across the world.

Some are even married to us - can you believe it??

In conclusion - More Miguel x Black!Reader. More Miguel x Black!OC.

Give Miguel AfroLatino Babies!!!!

Give Miguel O'Hara a Nigerian Wife so help me God

Anyway - Big up @hrhmimieucliffe and their AMAZING Black OC Giselle, who has a ~thing~ ;) with Miguel (they are v cute!!)

More Miguel x Black!Reader. More Miguel with Black! OCs. I want a Miguel that likes his women like he likes his milkshakes - tall, sweet, thicc as fuck, and FULL OF CHOCOLATE

And once again, that's on WHAT!!!!

[summerdiphylleia]

The next right thing

Chapter 2: The Quarter Quell Announcement

Summary: The 74th Hunger Games were over, and Felicia ought to have anticipated how often she'd find herself pondering over what could've happened if Seneca Crane had been a smarter man.

pairing: coriolanus snow x wife!oc

Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

***********

“One.”

“Two.” 

“Three.”

Felicia forced her eyes shut, waiting for the bangs that announced the death of the tributes to go off, but they never did. She flinched when the voice of a man echoed through the room instead. 

“Stop!”

If Seneca Crane had been a smarter man, he would’ve kept quiet. 

“Stop!” She heard the gamemaker shout once again. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the winners of the 74th annual Hunger Games.” 

Felicia went still, as images of the District 12 tributes –victors, she corrected herself– embracing each other glided through the screen. She knew she ought to feel happy about it, surely all of the Capitol was celebrating, but Felicia couldn’t bring herself to share such joy. She was happy the tributes –victors– were alive, but she’d seen something more in their actions than simply two young people in love that could not survive without each other. She’d seen defiance. And she was sure her husband had seen it too. A daunting frown claimed her face, and her hands were closed into fists so tight she could barely feel her nails attempting to dig into the skin of her palms. Katniss Everdeen had defied the Capitol, and the Capitol had allowed it. Worse, it had rewarded it. 

The television had gone black by the time she jumped from her seat, and started hurrying through the manor’s empty hallways. She didn’t need to turn around to know that Lan was following her path. He moved like a cat, barely making any sound, but the man had been like a shadow to her for the most of twenty years, and took his job of protecting her very seriously. He was a tall man, surprisingly fit for someone who was around her age. More often than not a calculating scowl claimed his features; and she took pride in knowing that his rare smiles were reserved for her. She didn’t like thinking about what she’d do without him. 

“Don’t do anything foolish, Felicia.” He warned her, taking up a vigilant stance just outside the room. It had been nothing but a whisper, but she had understood. Their eyes locked in a silent exchange, her apprehension mirrored in his gaze, and she nodded, before moving forward. 

Felicia walked into the sunroom, and found her husband tending to the roses. He was standing with his back towards her, but she could already tell he was livid. He stood rigid in his feet, as his arms worked stiffly against the flowers, occasionally cutting them with more force that was necessary. 

She approached him, keeping a steady, dull pace. “Coriolanus?” She asked, calmly. 

The President didn’t move at the sound of her voice, as if he had been expecting her already. He kept on trimming the roses, and a heavy silence filled the air between the two. “What are you going to do to him?” She asked, voice trembling just the slightest. He turned around, slightly taken aback by her question. It wasn’t usual at all for her to acknowledge such things, and he didn’t like it when she stepped out of his comfort zone. It wasn’t her place to question his actions. He let confusion show on his face for just a few seconds, before his lips split into a smile.

“Well, he had a very simple choice to make. I’m just going to present him with another very simple choice.” He shrugged, as he drew nearer her, while cleaning the pruning scissors on a cloth.

Felicia gulped, and shifted uncomfortably in her place. “And her?” She wondered if she was crossing a line by making such a question, a dangerous line. She’d always been so sure such a thing would never exist when it came to her, as she’d always spoken somewhat freely around her husband, but the look on the President’s face made her think otherwise.

She insisted that the Games were barbaric and maintained her stance on that. In return, he insisted that they were necessary and maintained his stance on that. It had always been like that. But never had someone from the districts dare to defy him in the way Katniss Everdeen just had. Or at least they hadn’t done so in front of the cameras, showcasing their actions to the whole of Panem. 

“As long as she understands that what she’s done, she’s done for love, she should be no problem.” He said, throwing the scissors into a cushion. “You must be happy with how everything turned out.” He muttered, as he lifted his hand to gently stroke her cheek. 

“I am,” she sighed, frozen by his touch, “two children get to live.”

“Hm, darling,” he chuckled, leaving a kiss on her temple, “you can be so naive sometimes.” 

*********** 

The Games were left behind and the air started to cool, as Felicia eased into her usual routine once again. She wrote letters, attended charity events and couture fittings, helped Theodore with his Academy homework, bought unnecessary decoration for the mansion, visited her children at the hospital; hosted hollow, vacuous parties for Panem’s high society. 

With the cold, her already aching arthritis got worse, and she was instructed by her medics to use a walking staff, to help her ease her sore ankles. But it only helped in making her feel impossibly old. 

“Everyone’s going to make fun of me!” Felicia complained one night, in front of her family.  She stood barefoot against the velvety rug, switching the cane from one hand to the other, playfully showing it off. Her two older children had come to the manor for a casual dinner earlier, and the five of them had moved onto the sitting room to enjoy some tea. Night had fallen terribly cold outside, but the interiors of the manor were warm and cosy, as it had been instructed that every fireplace within shall be lighted.

“You’re Panem’s First Lady,” Arabella laughed, “no one is going to make fun of you.” She remarked, as she sat next to Coriolanus on the sofa, with a cup of warm tea in her hand. Max and Arabella had been spending so much more time in the manor lately, and Felicia was the happiest she’d felt in a long time. Whether their newfound fondness for being with her stemmed from a sense of responsibility as she aged or a simple desire to visit her, she didn’t know. She chose to believe the latter. 

“But surely everyone will think of me as an old bat,” she whined in a silly fashion, as Max walked towards her. 

“I promise no one will think that”, he reassured her, while resting a gentle arm around her shoulders. 

“Hm, I might.” Coriolanus sneered from his place on the couch, holding back a smile. 

Felicia gasped, and theatrically put a hand against her chest, pretending to be utterly offended at his comment. Arabella grabbed a cushion and playfully hit him with it, “no you won’t!” She warned his father, as the two boys kept on cackling.

“Best thing about this staff, mom,” Theo explained, taking the walking stick from her hands, weighing it in his hands,“is that if anyone dares making such comments, you get to do this!” He dashed against his father, and repeatedly patted on him with it, acting as if he were hitting him. 

The boy’s action managed to break Coriolanus’ stoic facade, and his laughter started to echo through the room alongside the rest of his family’s.

Scenes like that one repeated themselves in the months that followed, as snow stubbornly settled into the city, and life in the Capitol finally appeared to be returning back to normal. But Felicia heard the reports —information not meant for her ears, but the manor could be an awfully small place to keep such volatile secrets. Rebellions were happening all over the country; no amount of peacekeepers were enough to keep the insurrection in District 8 at bay, and District 11 was at the brink of following their lead. 

Coriolanus refused to share such things with her, limiting his conversations with her to trivial matters, which had started to put a veil between the two. He kept on retreating into himself, and she noticed he was being more paranoid than ever; cameras had made their way into every room in the manor, their bedroom included. And, although she had no way of proving it, she was sure she’d also heard the distinct sound of jabberjays’ echoes around the gardens. Felicia couldn’t help but worry once again about having spoken out of turn after the Games. 

She was settling into bed one night, later than usual, about to read for a while, when her husband walked into the room, coat still on, snowflakes only just melting into the fur. She hadn’t seen him in three days. It wasn’t usual of him to disappear like that. 

“Coriolanus!” She gasped, and got out of bed as quickly as her wrists allowed her, to help him get out of his heavy clothes. She took his coat and scarf, and left them on the sofa right outside the crystal doors to their bedroom. 

“Where were you?” She asked, out of breath, as she wrapped her hands around her chest. The manor wasn’t cold, but a chill had somehow still managed to run through her spine. He reached down towards her, and kissed her with a closed mouth. “You should go back to bed, dearest, it’s already late.” He gently pushed her aside, and strided towards the bed. 

“But where were you, really?” She repeated herself, following his motion. 

“District 12.” He uttered, pulling the bedding over. And by the way he said those words, Felicia knew she wasn’t allowed to ask any questions. She just nodded, pursing her lips, and let him embrace her, as she closed her eyes. 

*********** 

Felicia wished for but one thing: to go to bed. Her feet hurt, her face felt too tight, and she was bored out of her mind. Yet, as the First Lady, her role at such events had but one purpose: to introduce people, excuse the President’s absence, and, most importantly, look radiant. At least she had managed the latter, or rather, her stylists had.

On that morning, a whole assembly of them had barged into her room to prepare her for the evening party. They had bathed her, coloured her hair, applied makeup to her face, and dressed her. Her stylist had chosen a metallic purple dress with an asymmetrical cut, paired with a golden undergown that stood out on her chest and highlighted her legs. Matching heels and shimmering makeup completed the look. Her hair was styled in a loose chignon adorned with golden accessories Tigris had once given her as a present. She knew her picture would be plastered all over the newspapers as the best–dressed of the evening.

“Ms. Cardew, may I have a dance with you?” Felicia heard a man’s voice behind her, as she sipped on what must’ve been her fifth glass of wine that night, but she paid no mind to it, it wasn’t directed to her, or at least she thought so. The music was too loud and the lights were too bright, her head had started to hurt and it was difficult to discern scenes on her whereabouts.

“Ms. Cardew?” She heard again, and seconds later she felt someone put a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

Felicia had but turned around that Lan was already on her side, discreetly putting himself between her and the stranger. She studied the man for a moment, and then exchanged subtle glances with the bodyguard. Lan left at once, and Felicia extended a hand towards the man in front of her. 

Plutarch Heavensbee. A plump, middle–aged man, and frighteningly clever, maybe too much for his own sake. 

“Ms. Cardew,” he repeated himself, leaving a polite kiss on her hand,“you look the epitome of grace in this sea of extravagance. I apologise for frightening you.” 

“Mr. Heavensbee,” she smiled, “it’s me who should apologise; I didn’t realise you were speaking to me, I’m afraid it’s been years since I was last called by my maiden name.” Thirty eight years, to be precise. 

He hummed in response. “Would you care to join me for a dance?” She really didn’t want to. The wine had started to make her feel light–headed, and her ankles were sore.

“I’d be delighted, Mr. Heavensbee.” She smiled, allowing him to take her a few steps down into the dancing floor. People moved around, making space for them, and the cameras that followed. 

Felicia rested one hand on his shoulder as he placed his on her back, and they started to glide across the room, matching their steps with the music. 

“I thought that you could do with some invigorating conversation.” He leaned towards her, to avoid the cameras and people around from hearing their conversation. 

“Well you know what a rare thing that can be here in the Capitol.” She replied in a murmur, with a cheeky smile directed towards the cameras. “I hear you’re to be our new Gamemaker.” 

“Ah, news travel fast in the Capitol,” he smirked, “yes, I’ve been appointed as the new Head Gamemaker.” 

“A very prestigious position,” she smiled, as he made her twirl, “I suppose congratulations are in order.” 

Plutarch nodded with a meekly gesture, turning the corners of his lips downwards. “Thank you, Felicia. It's a role that demands creativity and innovation, wouldn't you say?” He added, raising an eyebrow. 

“Indeed,” she agreed, as she relished in the small amount of bravery the alcohol had given her, and added “although I must admit, the… nature of such creativity often leaves me conflicted.” 

The man simply stared at her, with an implacable expression on his face, making it difficult for Felicia to assert how he felt about her statement. 

“The Games are a spectacle, Felicia, but the true spectacle often lies in the shadows. Oh? It's all a matter of perspective, really.” He stated, with an esoteric look on his face. She was about to comment on it, but he interrupted her. “I’ve recently met your two oldest children.”

“You have?” Felicia asked, slightly taken aback. “And why is that?”

“I had to spend a couple of days at the hospital a handful of weeks ago, nothing too serious luckily. Very bright children indeed. I can see they’ve inherited your intelligence—

“Oh Mr. Heavensbee,” Felicia chuckled, feigning modesty ,“you’re being too—

“And defiance.” He cut her off, voice barely audible, as he had leaned in towards her so much, his mouth brushed her cheek. 

Felicia went still. “What…?” She began to ask, but they were interrupted. 

“Plutarch Heavesbee!” The voice of a woman resounded in her ears, even above the music. She was accompanied by two other people. Felicia, who was still hesitating on how to feel about Plutarch’s statement, almost jumped at the sight of them. 

“Katniss. Peeta.” The flashy woman clamoured. “This is Plutarch Heavensbee, Head Gamemaker. Successor to Seneca Crane.” 

“That’s a tough act to follow.” The young man commented, shaking Plutarch’s hand.

“Peeta!” 

Plutarch just laughed, as he seemed to have found the comment amusing rather than somewhat unpleasant. “May I introduce you to Felicia Snow?” He said, pointing towards her. 

“Mrs. Snow,” The woman said, with a modest curtsy, “you look radiant, as always.” 

“Thank you, Euphemia, you look very lovely yourself. It’s a pleasure meeting you both.” Felicia added, nervously staring at the two teenagers, who returned a polite smile and shook her hand. “Congratulations on the engagement.”

“Thank you, we are very happy about it.” Peeta answered, as a grin claimed all of his features. How intriguing. He genuinely seemed happy about it. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he added, with a soft smile, “they show you all the time on the television, you’re even more beautiful in person.” 

“Oh,” she giggled, bringing a hand to cover her mouth, in a flustered fashion, “well, my stylists are very good at their jobs. How are you enjoying the party?”

“It’s excessive.” Katniss was quick to answer, her voice steady. 

Felicia smiled graciously, acknowledging the tension between herself and Katniss. The dance floor seemed to tighten around them, as they got caught between the profligacy of the Capitol and the stark reality of the Games.

“The Capitol has its own way of celebrating, doesn’t it? But I agree, the extravagance can be a little overwhelming.” 

“Overwhelming is an understatement.” The girl answered, bluntly, eyes staring into Felicia’s. 

“What Katniss means,” Peeta was quick intervene, “well, it is a bit much, but make it any simpler and you might as well deprive the Capitol of all its fun, right?”  

Katniss shot him a quick side–eye, and then forced a smile on her face, turning towards her once again. Felicia offered her a weak smile. She could tell the girl didn’t like her, and Felicia understood that. She privately boasted about not enjoying Games, commended herself on being –What, exactly? Morally superior to the rest?– and yet had never actively acted against them, except for complaining. Nothing but sanctimonious bluff. She was in no way better than the rest; no different than those gaudy, self–absorbed, fake individuals she so very bragged about not tolerating.  I am no better than my husband. 

Felicia realised that she wouldn’t be able to keep on feigning a smile in her face for that much longer, and studied the room around her. There were many other people lingering around them, waiting to talk to the victors, staring with jealousy at her. She briskly made her excuses, claiming she was expected to make some introductions, and left. 

She tried walking in a straight line through the path she knew would eventually lead to her room, but such an action was proving difficult with the amounts of alcohol she had in her blood. Her movements were marked by an unsteady sway, and more than once, she stumbled over her own feet, struggling to maintain her balance. 

Lan found her before she could make a spectacle of herself, discreetly grabbing her by the waist, and quickly guided her away from the party. He didn’t comment on her uncharacteristic drunkenness, and they settled instead for a calm stroll, thankful that the ear–splitting noises from the party were nothing but a muffled sound at that point. 

Minutes into their walk she looked up towards him, and sullenly leaned into him. “They hate me you know,” she whispered, lips turning into a pout and eyes glossy, as he led her through the empty hallways of the manor, “Katniss and Peeta.” 

But voicing such thoughts didn’t bring her any solace; she didn’t get to complain that her actions, or rather the lack of them, had had consequences. Suddenly there were tears in her eyes, and she couldn’t make them stop from falling into her cheeks. 

“They don’t hate you.” Lan comforted her, eyes softening. She looked up towards him, locking her gaze on his. He had such a gentle stare; warm, soft watercolour eyes that reminded her of the sea. She wondered if he ever missed the ocean, if he ever missed his district. District 4. They weren’t strangers to the Games over there either. She wondered how much he’d suffered by her actions, surely he’d been affected by the Games at some point. No one could escape from that, her husband made sure of it. 

“Yes they do,” she whimpered, lips quivering, clumsily wiping the tears on her face, “and they have every reason for doing so.” 

*********** 

Winter weaved into spring, and the Capitol once again started buzzing with excitement for the upcoming Games. Games unlike any other, for that year marked the 75th Hunger Games, the most anticipated Quarter Quell. It turned the citizens crazy, which was the ultimate goal Felicia supposed, through the introduction of twists and challenges that made each iteration unforgettable. They served as a reminder of the Capitol’s control and a testament to its capacity for innovation in the pursuit of entertainment. 

Felicia started to see Plutarch Heavensbee more often than not around the manor, holding private, clandestine discussions with her husband. The significance of these meetings left Coriolanus with scarce time for her, reducing their exchanges to the necessities, often focused on their children. He no longer slept in their shared bedroom, except when his personal needs dictated otherwise. Oddly enough, she always welcomed him. It felt good to be desired. 

She was less than excited when Coriolanus announced she was expected at the presentation of the Quarter Quell, but as always she simply forced an amicable smile into her face and waded through the charade. Standing once again before the entirety of the Capitol, Felicia steeled herself for the announcement of the 75th Hunger Games.

“...and now on this,” her husband spoke to the microphone, standing in the atrium above the Avenue of the Tributes, “the 75th Anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the 3rd Quarter Quell as a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of The Capitol.”

A most imperceptible frown appeared in Felicia’s forehead, puzzled by such remark. He wouldn’t. 

 “On this, the 3rd Quarter Quell Games, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of Victors in each district.” He declared, as his lips turned into a very subtle smile. Gasps born from indignation erupted from the crowds, and for the first time in all her years as the First Lady, Felicia's façade crumbled. Her eyes widened, and she brusquely turned her head towards the President. Though her lack of composure lasted but a moment, she knew he would have noticed. “Victors shall present themselves on Reaping Day, regardless of age, state of health, or situation…” She could hear Coriolanus still talking, but it felt as if he were speaking from a distant, muffled place. 

She fled to her bedroom as promptly as she was allowed, hunted by the screams of Cato under the mutts.

*********** 

“This is your doing, and the consequences shall rest upon your shoulders.”

No, she kept on shaking her head, as tears fell on her cheeks, none of this would've happened if Seneca Crane had been a smarter man.

*********** 

I hope you enjoy! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it

[cixl-writes]

elysian — kang haerin

SYNOPSIS — `` | reader is so so in love. they're very in love, your honor.

PAIRING — `` | kang haerin x 6thmember!fem reader

GENRE — `` | fluffy fluff

kang haerin is in a good mood.

she was giggly throughout the whole day— that pretty smile of hers seemingly having no intention to leave her features. it's not like y/n was complaining, it's super rare for her girlfriend to be this cheerful.

it's like once in a blue moon, so the l/n knew more than enough to not comment on anything about her mood or else she might spoil it.

they were currently having a live, haerin smiling widely as she looked through the comments in the phone on her lap. beside her sat her beloved who was boredly playing with her own phone, not minding the noises of the other members' chatters.

loviny/n: not y/n just straight up ignoring everyone around her, pls speak for once :')

the kang glanced at the girl beside her and chuckled at how invested she seemed on her phone, gaining the attention of the others immediately. "y/n, please speak. it's been twenty minutes through the live and you haven't said a single word."

now that the others have thought about it, the l/n has, in fact, not spoken through the whole twenty minutes; more interested in scrolling through her phone while listening to them chatter about just everything.

at the sudden mention of her name, y/n looked up with a blank expression before it morphed into a slightly strained smile when minji subtly elbowed her side. a silent order to smile for the camera.

"...hey." haerin laughed at how bland her girlfriend's greeting is, it was so her.

meanwhile, the others groaned in playful disappointment— some shaking their heads in amusement. "why is that greeting so you?" hanni stressed out in fake exasperation as danielle bursted out laughing, seeing y/n just smile thinly through the complaints that had been thrown at her way.

"my bad."

haerin intertwined their hands together, completely hidden from the camera. y/n gazed at it for a moment before continuing whatever she was doing on her phone earlier, making her girlfriend smile.

moments passed by, and the live continued on without the l/n speaking another word after the three words she had spoken— some fans noticing how focused she seemed in her device, even some members did. especially, haerin.

the kang clung to her arm, chin resting on the unbothered few months older girl's shoulder and looking at the screen with curiosity. this action, of course, got the attention of the fans right away.

the haerin to your y/n: CLIPPING THIS RN

newjeans queens: HAERIN IS SO CLINGY THIS WHOLE LIVE??

the members all looked at the cat-like female who was now also invested in whatever is in the l/n's screen. y/n was reading a webtoon, it was too engrossing that she had even forgot that the group was in the middle of a live. haerin seems to agree with her, given the fact that she, herself, had been riveted into reading with her as well.

finally feeling the weight that was in her shoulder, y/n turned her head to gaze at haerin's side profile, blinking slowly.

kang haerin is pretty; that much y/n knows, but this scene was another level of pretty. maybe, she was just whipped but kang haerin can't be described by words alone. y/n would sing all the praises that existed for haerin and she won't be satisfied by then.

without her even knowing, a soft genuine smile appeared on her lips as her usual blank gaze sparkled with new emotions.

adoration and admiration.

and this was all being caught in the camera. danielle silently squealed as she watched the both of them have a movie-like moment, hyein and the 04 duo smiling at how in love y/n looked right now.

it was unusual— l/n y/n always looked like she was bored about absolutely everything when not on stage. in fact, the only times she expressed her emotions is when kang haerin is around. although she smiled, grinned, and even chuckled for others, it always felt a little empty.

maybe, it's because they weren't that kang haerin.

that kang haerin who saw right through l/n y/n's facade and broke through her walls like it was nothing.

that kang haerin y/n fell in love with over such a simple reason.

they weren't that kang haerin.

[hephaestuscrew]

I'm not the first person to say this, but there really is something groundbreaking about the lack of romantic plotlines in Wolf 359.

Wolf 359 is a story aimed at and about adults. It's partly about what it means to be human. It's partly about how we exist in relation to other people. It's partly about interpersonal connection and understanding. It has character relationships at its heart. It features so many moments of love and care between characters. It takes place across just over two years of the characters' lives, with 61 episodes and a main cast that grows to a decent size.

And despite all this, the show doesn't feature a single canonical 'on-screen' romantic (or sexual) relationship. Perhaps that shouldn't be as rare as it is, but it's one of the many things that makes Wolf 359 special to me.

[finniestoncrane]

Unexpected Exhibitionist

Young Justice!Riddler x GN!Reader, word count: 4k commission: a particularly fun commission from a wonderful friend, featuring an au where all the riddlers co-exist, and sweet yj!eddie is teased riiiiiiiight in front of them all, or at least, digitally 💚 commission me here! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: teasing, oral sex, exhibitionism in a way!, sex on camera... kind of! (should be gn!reader but let me know if i've missed something obvious)

Eddie so very rarely asked to have some space from you. Only when he was focusing on something complicated or exceptionally important would he ever think of asking you to give him an hour to himself. And even though he had asked for permission to spend the morning alone in his office, you were prepared to deny him that, if only for the sake of checking up on him.

He hated when you fussed, of course, believing that he wasn’t worth the attention, or that he should be the one fussing over you, and while you were usually ok with being fawned over him and offering your support from a distance when requested, today was different.

There was a conference call, with the other Riddlers. A teleconference? Or a… you weren’t sure what the name of an interdimensional meet-up between several super-villains of the same ilk would be, if you were honest. But what you did know was that it had been driving Eddie insane with anxiety lately. And you felt it was your responsibility to try and cheer him up, or at least distract him for a little bit to make sure he was prepared for the afternoon. So you crept into his office, watching him type furiously as he wiped his brow of sweat, trying to think of what the best way to interrupt him might be.

With a hand placed on his shoulder, you squeezed it softly and let your fingers linger as you spoke.

“You busy, Eddie?”

Immediately ceasing the almost relentless and steady typing at his computer, Eddie turned to you, pushing his glasses up his nose with his finger and focusing his attention completely on your waiting smile.

“Never too busy for you! Do you… need something? Anything?”

He checked the clock on the wall, then the clock on the screen, then his watch on his wrist. A nervous habit he’d developed since cohabiting with you. When he was alone, it was easy to get distracted. To spend hours and hours, sometimes close to a full day, without stopping, speaking, bodily functions and needs tended to on autopilot. But he was trying his hardest to take breaks. Partly, because you told him it was good for him to stop, and that you wanted him to be healthy and happy. Mostly, because he wanted to spend every second he could with you, cherishing those moments, still in disbelief that you would give him the chance to.

Smiling at you awkwardly, hoping he hadn’t been neglecting you for too long, he turned the chair around. He was well aware that you could feed yourself, grab a drink when you needed one. But he liked to do things for you, to tend to you, care for you, spoil you almost. Like a princess. And the idea that you had been sitting around hungry or thirsty or tired or bored made him feel horrendously guilty.

“Yeah, dummy. I need you! I missed you.”

You offered him a warm smile, narrowing your eyes softly at him as you stepped closer, seating yourself on his lap, hands moving straight to his tie. You teased it, running your fingers up and down it as you watched the movements. Eddie’s eyes bore into you, watching your face as you took him in. he marvelled at the way you could look at him with such adoration, he’d never experienced anything quite like it. His hands fell to your waist, shifting slightly to offer you more space on his thighs, the grip on you light, but protective.

With a soft giggle, you squirmed a little, writhing against him as you brought your cheek to his, your lips close to his ear as you sighed, a quiet moan as you felt him against you, a definite stiffness growing as you let your fingers trail along his neck and through his hair.

As much as Eddie savoured your affections, physical or otherwise, he knew if he didn’t stop you now then he’d be drawn into you, unable to focus on anything else. He wasn’t too busy to get you a drink or hug you, but he was very aware that he had an appointment coming up shortly, an important video call, and he couldn’t miss it. He hated himself for what he was about to do, but it had to be done.

Eddie cleared his throat and leaned back.

“I can’t believe I am about to say this, but I’ll have to take a raincheck on this amazing… hug?”

“Could’ve been more.”

You winked playfully, but you were still disappointed. You didn’t question him, you knew he wouldn’t turn you down for just anything.

“I have the… the big conference call, with the others.”

“Oh! Well, of course you can’t miss that.”

Eddie winced at the thought, and you stood up from his lap, letting him turn the chair back around.

“You look tense though, Eddie.”

You rubbed at his shoulders, feeling your stomach flutter when he groaned in pleasure at the touch.

“I am… I’m nervous… I wish I could just distract myself, or have something to distract me during this. Something to take the edge off. I feel like they’re all so much more… qualified than me. That they have something I don’t.”

It hurt you to see him so dejected, to be questioning himself. It was easy to understand him. He was a lot quieter than the others. No less capable about being arrogant in his intellectual prowess, but not as cruel or loud as the others about his achievements and intelligence. He had informed you a few times before, but not in detail, about his hang-ups with his fellow Riddlers, that they were more infamous in their respective universes, that they had more power, more criminal achievements. But you were very aware that there was one thing he had that they didn’t. He had you.

“Is there anything I can do to help? Anything at all?”

You winked playfully, watching his mouth twitch as it tried to force a smile.

“I uh… you could stand there and look pretty, that always helps me. But it might bore you when we get down to business.”

“I could listen to you talk for hours, Eddie. Your lips look so pretty when you’re talking about your plans.”

There was an audible gulp as Eddie swallowed his nerves, his brain, usually so quick and competent, struggling to keep up with your flirtatious conversation. He was so nervous around you, even still, and the innocent and almost terrified way he tried to flirt gave you butterflies and made you fall in love with him even more each time.

You could tell he was running out of things to say though, so you put him out of his misery and offered up your services to him.

“Well, Eddie. I’m sure I can think of something to help you relax… and I promise I won’t get in the way of your prep for the meeting.”

Sinking to your knees you crawled around the chair and under the desk, where you settled on your heels. Your palms, firm against him, stroked up his thighs towards his crotch, where his pants were beginning to tent even at this slight touch. You couldn’t help yourself, unable to supress the delighted giggle which came out at how quickly you were able to have him aroused and at full attention.

“Oh, my! You’re certainly excited at least… maybe not quite relaxed yet, but we’re heading in the right direction, I suppose.”

Your fingers were twitching as you reached for the fly of his pants, undoing the metal button and unzipping them before tugging to pull them down. The delightful bulge sat between the opening in the fabric, covered by his boxers which you smiled at, noting that they were his lucky green ones. He really was nervous about this meeting. He was so entirely sweet and adorable, and the fact that his logical brain still relied on superstition and ritual at times when he was particularly worried or anxious made your heart leap in your chest. There wasn’t anything you wouldn’t do to help him through this, it was just lucky that the method you knew best was one that would satisfy you too.

Running your fingers along the elastic band at the top of his boxers, you hummed in satisfaction as you watched his cock twitch, suppressed by the fabric, desperate to be free, aching for your direct touch. You ran a finger over the top of his boxers, feeling his length tense up, jerking softly below the tickling sensation. Another giggle fell over your lips, sultry and coloured in your own obvious arousal. You licked at your lips and swallowed the gathering saliva, noting that you were drooling at just the idea of tasting his cock, having it, thick and hard against your tongue, choking you as you tried to take as much of it in as possible.

You couldn’t put it off any longer. As much as you wanted to tease, to take it slowly and offer a relaxing pace, you needed to at least hold his cock in your hands. You needed to feel him, skin against skin.

“Oh… oh! Are you… are you going to uh… oh wow! You are!”

As his boxers shifted down over his cock, it bounced free completely, sweetly coloured the same as his skin, his head a flushed pink that glistened with precum, and the tuft of trimmed but still wild pubic hair that topped it looked soft to the touch. With your drool threatening to spill over your lips, you licked them and let your tongue drag up from the base of Eddie’s twitching length to the tip, where you flicked your tongue swiftly. At the sound of his whimper, you wrapped your lips around the tip and hollowed your cheeks, sucking as you hummed in satisfaction, finally having him in your mouth.

His chest rose and fell sporadically, as though he were having to manually breathe in and out, his usual instincts inhibited by the flustered pleasure that coursed through him in heavy waves. Each time he opened his eyes to look down at you, he was sent writhing once more, the sultry way you stared at him driving him wild, insane even, at the notion someone as attractive as you would look at him as though not only were he somehow equally sexy, but that just the act of pleasuring him was enough to get you off.

Which it was. Testament to this, you could feel your underwear starting to dampen, soaked in your slick as you found yourself groaning with Edward’s thick, turgid cock stretching your mouth, pressing on your tongue, the almost sweet taste of his skin clashing with the salted flavour of his precum.

A shrill sound interrupted Eddie’s soft moans as you serviced him, tinkling out loud in the room. Choking on a gasp, you could feel Eddie shuffling around.

“Oh-oh god… it’s them… it’s early? I got the time wrong?”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t… you have to… I can’t do this while you’re there!”

“But you’re nervous! I’m helping!”

You smiled up at him, teasing slightly, it was impossible not to. He was so cute when he was flustered, and flustered was better than terrified. So you reached up and hit the enter button.

“No! Nooo-uh, hello!”

The screen was filled with the faces of the other Riddlers, each of them keen to begin their discussions, to hear Arkham’s plans which he had assured them all was the definite end to their problem, the Batman.

“How are we all doing today, my… colleagues.”

Eddie tensed in the chair as you returned your hands to his cock, taking it in your grasp, both fists lining the shaft as you pumped it slowly, languid strokes that made him gasp and stutter as he uttered his hellos over the camera.

“Are we all feeling ok?”

“Heh-ye-Es.”

His voice squeaked on the words, and you stifled a giggle at his reaction, cock throbbing against your palms. Desperately trying to compose himself, he sat up straighter in the chair, thick length writhing in your hands as you shuffled closer to him, your palms tracking up his thighs and pulling at his hips. With a soft exhale, you let your warm breath tickle over his skin, before your lips found his head, closing over it again.

As calm as he was able to be, Eddie focused, unblinking, on the camera as he tried his best to listen to what Arkham and the others were saying. It was impossible to go too long without his mind drifting back to what was happening under the desk. Your sweet mouth opening as wide as you could make it to allow him to slide effortlessly to the back of your tongue. Your fingers, gentle and delicate as you cupped his balls, squeezing softly as you continued to suck his cock against his squirming.

“Edward, are you quite alright? I don’t expect much from you all, given that I am the superior Riddler here, but I would at least hope that your feeble mind could pay attention for more than thirty seconds at a time.”

Swallowing his nerves, and trying to suppress his desperate arousal that was building in his chest, Edward stuttered over his words.

“I’m… I’m here- I mean, I’m fine… I mean, it’s ok. I’m paying attention. Sorry. Sorry.”

“Are you sure, it appears that you have something else on your mind.”

“No, I assure you I’m f-HUH-ine… ahem…”

Feigning a cough, Eddie tried to cover the pitch-shifting in his voice. He was bad at deflecting though, and the more he tried to encourage everyone to move on, the more they seemed to be focused on him. Especially when the more sympathetic of his fellow Riddlers were keen to make sure he was ok before continuing their master plan discussions.

“Eddie, are you sure you’re ok? You look awful sweaty…”

Gotham was stretching in his seat, straining to get closer to the camera. Dano’s face curled into one of worry and concern as he chimed in.

“And your face is flushed. Are you hot? You might be coming down with something. You could turn your camera off if you’re feeling uncomfortable being on with us all when you’re-”

“NO! This is far too important for anyone to be given an excuse to stop listening.”

Arkham was furious at the suggestion, his screen shaking briefly as he slammed his fist down onto the table he sat at.

“No muting. No turning the cameras off. Every single one of you needs to be held accountable and be paying attention completely. I won’t let any single one of you fall behind and cause this plan to crumble apart. Not when my name is so clearly attached to it.”

Holding in a mischievous giggle, you hollowed your cheeks, slurping louder than you meant to, aware that there was every chance it was heard over the microphone. But no one said anything, and Eddie covered it with another cough.

As you let the teeth on your lower jaw graze along the underside of his length, you could feel him tensing, breath hitching at the slight tingling of pain you knew he enjoyed far more than he could admit to. Quick to try and prevent any further embarrassment, or reason for the others to suspect that something untoward may be happening, Eddie clamped his hands over his mouth. Though he realised this in itself was perhaps a strange movement, so putting his less than admirable acting skills to practice, he let out a dramatic and very obviously fake yawn.

A few of the faces on the screen looked on in confusion, some with concern. Arkham, of course, glared down the lens in oblivious rage. Concerningly, to Eddie, both Zero Year and Unburied wore a slight, knowing smirk. He tried to convince himself that there was no way they could know, to keep himself calm. But it was so obvious, their expressions so telling. They might not know exactly what was happening, but they had an inkling that all was not well on Eddie’s side of the camera. Or all was perhaps a little too well.

You laid off a little, letting your hands stroke him softly and slowly to offer some reprieve when you heard Arkham barking over the speakers.

“Are you completely incompetent? I find it hard to believe that you share anything in common with even these idiots, let alone with me! But, since you’re so insistent on being the focus of the attention, perhaps you would like to inform us of your progress with your part of the plan.”

“I… uh…”

Eddie stammered nervously, fully aware of your mischievous nature and knowing this might be the thing that pushed him over the edge. How much could he conceal if he was the only one talking? The focus of every pair of eyes on the call? Not much, he imagined.

“Did you forget, Edward, that we were all going to present our own progress today? Was it too taxing for you to do the work and remember? Next time, I will take that on board. I will remember how little you are capable of taking on.”

Eddie let out a brief sigh of relief, which choked in his throat with a squeal as you ran your thumb over the flushed, reddening head of his cock.

“But! Due to the nature of today’s call, the sheer importance, and the fact that you have already disappointed me and disrupted the flow, I will insist that you please, present your no doubt lacklustre and pointless information to us immediately.”

With his stomach lurching, Eddie tried to gaze down at you, meeting your eyes as you peered up at him just below the table’s edge. You wore a grin that told him you weren’t going to make this easy. And it was already difficult. He could feel himself throbbing, his palms sweating, as he watched your hands caressing his length, your eyes staring, unblinking, directly into his.

When he realised that you had been commanding his attention long enough for it to be questionable to the others as to why he had been staring at his lap for so long, he managed to pull himself away from the view. With an awkward smile and a strangled laugh, he cleared his throat and pulled up his notes.

“Well, as you all know, it’s been a long and difficult process to get us all together and able to work on this. I have been trying my hardest to make sure that ah-ha-AH-ah-ah-I’ve-ah… choo?”

Arkham furrowed his brow as Eddie failed miserably to cover his heightened moaning with a pathetic attempt at a fake sneeze, ready to begin yet another rant aimed at Eddie’s assumed idiocy, but not before Zero Year chimed in.

“What’s wrong with you, Eddie? Got something on your mind?”

Zero Year recognised the facial expressions, the sounds. How could he not? He spent his days browsing lazily, one hand on his mouse or holding his phone, the other wrapped around his stubby cock as he gazed at the sordid imagery on various porn sites. He was well aware of what was happening, even if he couldn’t believe it.

At first, he had assumed that Eddie was masturbating during the meeting, that he’d gone a little bit insane and felt it was worth the risk. But, and despite his complete disbelief in this, he’d settled on the idea that there was someone else with Eddie, someone hidden below the screen, or below the desk, and they were the one behind his growing arousal and imminent climax. Of course, Zero Year was infuriated by this, his jealousy fuelling his decision to make matters far worse for Eddie as he sat, writhing and tensing on the other side of the screen, trying to hold himself together.

Unburied had similarly come to the conclusion that Eddie’s odd behaviour was at the hands, quite literally, of someone else who was currently providing a very well-received service to him, either as a tease or as part of an experiment in exhibitionism. Although, he doubted that Eddie was that adventurous, which was a correct assumption. Your shy, nervous, sweet Eddie was too much of a rule follower to allow himself the pleasure of being this risky. You, on the other hand, were far more willing to be a bit naughty, and you were happy to drag Eddie kicking and screaming along for the ride.

As the sweat began to fall from Eddie’s forehead to his brows, his upper-lip now coated in the sheen also, Unburied and Zero Year let loose a barrage of false concern for him. All eyes were focused on him now, with Arkham staring furiously, his face getting redder and his voice getting louder behind the persistent questioning and mocking jeers of the others. He had picked up on the suggestions, and was nearing nuclear levels of rage at Eddie, who was beginning to feel himself coming undone under the pressure and the weight of your tongue and lips against his desperate cock.

You could almost taste his release, feel each miniscule twitch of the veins around his length against your tongue as Eddie bit his lip, wailing out loud, trying to cover his sounds of growing pain and pleasure with stammered words he never quite managed to complete.

“I… I ha-ha… have… I have to… I have to g-go…”

“Don’t you dare hang up this call, Edward. I will see to it that you never join us for another plan. You’ll be an embarrassment to the moniker, The Riddler and I’ll ensure that everyone knows it.”

“Yeah, c’mon Eddie. Whatever it is, just let it out. We’re all friends here.”

The cruelly curled smirk on Zero Year’s lips still wasn’t enough to hold Eddie’s orgasm back. He could feel it rising, cock moist and warm in your mouth, ready to release his seed in an explosive and embarrassing show.

“I have to! I can’t!”

Eddie reached his hands up to the table, clearly taking the risk that Arkham’s threats were empty, intent on hanging up on the call anyway before he made a mess of himself, and your face, on camera. But you were quick to intercept, your fingers tight around his wrists as you held his hands below the chair. He didn’t have the strength to fight you, his hole body was trembling. This was exciting. A complete turn on. At your mercy, embarrassed in front of his peers, yes. But also, displaying a sense of dominance before them. What one of them could say they had someone on their knees in front of them, making sure their cock was wet and empty while they worked diligently on their plans.

The thought alone was enough to push him over the edge and he let forth a shrill squeal than fell to a guttural growl as he came. You moaned, muffled, in surprise as you tried to swallow his load, but it was powerful, plentiful, and you could feel it dripping down over your lips and down your chin as it kept coming.

Though you couldn’t see it, you could accurately picture the result of Eddie’s orgasm. His own face, slick with sweat, a half-smile with heavy lidded eyes as he tried to catch his breath. The others, unsure of whether to look away so as not to see, or to pretend like nothing had happened.

And Arkham, who was staring directly down the lens, teeth bared in a snarl. Part jealousy, part disbelief, part genuine fury that there was a Riddler out there who was willing to give in to such human urges during the most important part of their work together so far.

Wiping your face with your sleeve, you placed kisses along Eddie’s thighs and shuffled out from under the desk, making sure you weren’t visible on camera. It would be better to leave it as an uncertainty, a mystery. At least until next time. You might be kind enough to introduce yourself then.

[bengiyo]

Hey there!

I've seen a bunch of peeps echoing your thoughts on the KH adaptation, like how it's kinda "Japanese" and might be hard to transfer. Can you talk about what exactly gives KH that "Japanese" vibe? I've checked out some JBLs, but my memory of KH is lowkey foggy. Or if you've talked about this before elsewhere, can you drop the link pls? (btw, loving your stray thoughts posts – they're a life saver keeping up with all the BLs. Thanks!)

I'm trying to find a useful way to describe this. Japanese live-action media still hearkens back to a stage tradition, and as such you need to widen your eye to appreciate what's going on.

Close-Ups

I think Westerners watching Asian media rely heavily on close-ups of actors doing things to read their emotions in a scene, and that's not always where the most important stuff is happening in a Japanese drama.

I'm struggling with the gif search, but this shot above is a good example of that stage tradition. Hashimoto was feeling embarrassed at this moment and wanted to leave, so she literally exists stage right. The Japanese also love depth of frame. We see Aida as the barrier she has to cross to leave in the foreground, and we can see that life is still going on in the background.

I think a lot of us in the West rely on close ups like this to read characters from any given moment, and you see this reflected in what gets giffed and what doesn't. Michieda Shunsuke has incredibly large and expressive facial features, and he exaggerates them constantly to play up the hyperreal aspects of Aoki, which is another staple of these kinds of Japanese stories.

You got a lot of this in Mr. Unlucky Has No Choice But to Kiss! as well.

I'm struggling right now because I don't feel like fighting Viki and God Himself to get screenshots of the wider shots in the show, but the wider shots allow for us to get information about multiple characters and the dynamics between them quickly.

Thematic Focus

Another thing that Japanese dramas have that sticks out for me is focus. Because filming in Japan is expensive, most of their comedies of any sort are in a half-hour time slot, a lot like US comedies. You have to use your time wisely, and so there's far less mission creep to create an in-show ad for juice or to insert or expand side characters to try out other pitches that didn't make the cut for the whole show.

The entire focus of Kieta Hatsukoi's TV Asahi adaptation focuses on the complications around the confused romances between Aoki, Hashimoto, Ida, and Aida. We spend time with Aoki's disaster bi revelation, his and Hashimoto's cowardice in romance, and Ida's demisexual discovery. We cover a lot of ground in 10 short episodes that Thailand media won't in 12 long episodes.

As a result, the pacing overall tends to be extremely consistent and you're rarely asking yourself why a narrative beat is happening. Because this show is about two characters having a queer awakening, we get interactions across age groups about what it means for these boys to be Known Queers in their community and see them deal with that.

Emotional Communication

One of the other things that feels distinctly Japanese is the ways characters will communicate their feelings to each other. Sometimes there's a stoic layer coming from male characters who won't express themselves because they think their actions are making it clear, and then another character will come through to challenge their presumptions about what has been done and what hasn't been said.

One of my favorite moments is in episode 9 when Aoki gets frustrated that Ida doesn't seem to be straining under hormonal urges the way he is, which lands well because the audience and Ida knows that Aoki is struggling with those urges.

Some of this could come down to translation issues and the things that are presumed in Thai that don't always make it specifically onto the screen, but oftentimes I find that Thai characters are having a big confrontation about the wrong issue that misses the core fight, and then that gets resolved as if it was the core disconnect.

Those are just some of my thoughts firing from the hip. The vibe felt off in the trailer we saw yesterday and it left me feeling deeply uninspired. I'm hoping that as they work on the script and preparations for the roles the Thai version will be solid, but adaptations don't always work.

[crystallinestars]

To Make a Mechanical Heart Beat (Android AU)

In a highly technologically advanced world where human-like androids exist to serve humans, you lived a cushy life as the child of a successful CEO of a large biotechnology company. You grew up in a large manor surrounded by android maids and butlers that served you family’s every need and looked after the estate. Androids were a part of your everyday life, and it was easy to treat them the same as humans. They looked just like ordinary people save for the green power button located under their clavicle. You even made a few friends among the staff and cherished the android nanny you had as a child.

As an only child, your father had high hopes for you to inherit the family business and keep it thriving. Once you became of age, your father purchased you your very own android tutor who would teach you the ways of managing your family’s biotechnology business. The day you received your tutoring android Alhaitham, you were awed by his beauty. Alhaitham was the most handsome person you’ve ever seen—human or android. He had a well-defined muscular build that went surprisingly well with his smooth and youthful face. His pretty facial features were framed by ash-colored hair that looked soft to the touch. He was dressed in a sleeveless black shirt and black pants, complimented by a teal cardigan. His appearance was completed by a pair of what looked like gold and teal headphones to which several cyan wires were connected to, leading down somewhere behind his back.

When you pressed the green diamond-shaped button under his clavicle, Alhaitham powered on. As his systems started up and ran a diagnostic test, the android slowly opened his eyes to reveal the most striking pair of eyes you had ever seen. They were turquoise with orange pupils that seemed to stare right through you. He stared back at you, silent and expressionless to the point that it unnerved you a bit. You were used to the android servants in your manor acting cheerful and friendly as was a part of their programming, but your future tutor seemed to lack such a function. Even so, you were still intrigued by the handsome android, and agreed to have him as your tutor.

Once your tutoring sessions began, you quickly learned that Alhaitham was an excellent tutor. He explained tricky concepts clearly and made sure you understood the material down to the last detail. Even when there were days where you struggled to understand a certain topic, Alhaitham was calm and patient with you, trying out different ways of explaining the material to see what method worked best for you. He carried out his role perfectly, never doing anything more nor less than what was expected of him.

During your time together, you also learned that Alhaitham was a bit different from most androids you had met throughout our life. You were used to the friendly smiles and cheerful attitudes of your house servant androids, and those you encountered out in public such as cashiers and receptionists. Alhaitham was unlike them in that he rarely smiled or imitated any strong emotions for that matter. He spoke bluntly and factually, preferring to avoid pointless conversations and spent his free time in solitude.

You discovered that if you wanted to talk to him outside of your tutoring sessions, your best chance of finding him was to look in your family’s library. Alhaitham could oftentimes be found there, quietly perusing through physical copies of books instead of relying on his in-built computer to browse digital novels. When you inquired why he preferred physical books, he responded by saying he simply liked them better than digital ones, though you suspected he enjoyed the novelty of reading on paper rather than looking at a digital screen or downloading the novel to his memory storage.

To get to know your antisocial tutor better, you occasionally joined him in your family’s library during breaks. You two would read in silence at first, but as you got used to these joint reading sessions, you gradually asked Alhaitham questions, curious about this android’s opinions on various things, be they books or real-life events you saw or experienced. Upon learning he preferred non-fiction, you wanted to try and get him to try fiction for fun, so you recommended him some of your favorite romance novels and asked for his opinion on them. To your disappointment, Alhaitham seemed indifferent towards love stories, and expressed no interest in them but he at least was willing to give them a try for the sake of experiencing something novel. He didn’t seem to understand the appeal of the genre, but you supposed that was to be expected of an android.

Aside from reading in the library, you also invited Alhaitham to your outings. At first, he turned your invitations down in a polite albeit blunt manner, but eventually you managed to bribe him with promises of visiting a bookstore during one of your shopping trips. Alhaitham accepted your invitation then and followed you around the city without complaint until you found the time to visit said bookstore with him. The handsome android seemed enamored by the place—or as enamored as someone as aloof as him could look. There were minuscule changes in his facial expression—the slight curve of his mouth as the corners of his lips tugged up in a small smile. The relaxed arch of his brows and lowering of his shoulders. They were very small things, but after all your time together, you were able to pick up on these changes in him. Something about seeing him so happy made your heart flutter, so you invited Alhaitham to more book shopping trips, and even sometimes to science museums and exhibits he expressed an interest in.

As the months wore on, Alhaitham began to notice that something was off with him. He found himself looking forward to spending alone time with you in the library or going on one of your joint shopping trips to the city. Usually, he would decline such invitations if they came from anyone else in your family, but he always made an exception for you. When tutoring, he stood closer to you than he had before, catching himself analyzing the features of your face despite having seen you every day for months. His synthetic heart beat slightly faster when he was in your presence.

Alhaitham is confused at first by this unusual desire for your attention and time. He ponders why he felt this way. This type of behavior isn’t a part of his programming since it has nothing to do with his role as your tutor. The more he analyzed his symptoms, the more he was reminded of the romance novels you recommended to him a few months back. At the time, he didn’t understand the logic behind feelings of affection and romance described in those stories, but now… now something seemed to click in his mechanical mind. These behaviors and desires he felt because of you… could this be what humans called love?