#but at least I can live vicariously through their stories.

[z00r0p4]

Anyway I'd like to formally congratulate my 16 year old brother for bagging and kissing an SO before his 24 yr old older sister.

[discocandles]

more customer service voice Damian hcs, bc it's been a bit.

After learning the "regular citizen" voice, Damian decides he has to master more accents and dialects, in case he's on a mission away from Gotham and needs to blend in. (This is the son of Batman we're talking about, of course he plans for these things). Over the summer Damian travels to large cities around the world, and familiarizes himself with their way of speaking.

Cass found out very early on and decided she's going with Damian, bc I think Cass would enjoy sightseeing. But after they were caught leaving for Moscow(and after Damian explained that he was doing this for research at least 7 times) it was decided someone should supervise them. Dick patrols Bludhaven, so that was a no. Jason and Tim were automatically out. Steph went to supervise them, but was exempt after they were arrested in Seoul. So Duke ended up being supervision, unless Dick was available to go with them.

This doesn't mean they didn't get into chaos bc of Duke. No, it's bc with Duke, they can be invisible and not be caught doing the chaos. Duke does enjoys the trips with them tho, mostly for the sightseeing and food.

One time, Cass convinced Bruce to join them(how, no one really knows. Cass is just magic like that). And they had a good time in Rio de Janeiro, tho Bruce was almost recognized a few times, and he would sometimes try to sneak off and work. Unfortunately, Cass's attempts to invite Babs weren't as fruitful, mostly bc she didn't understand why Damian wanted to actually go to those places instead of learning it through the chatter radios of those areas instead. Damian's only response was that it wasn't the same and being there changes everything about it.(he was actually doing both methods).

Damian, Cass, and Duke do run into Talia at one point. She was intrigued as to what her son was doing in Melbourne with Cassandra, and the newest child Bruce had taken in, but is by no means unhappy to see him. Duke on the other hand, is scared to meet Damian's mom, given her reputation. Damian and cass being so nonchalant about meeting up with her probs didn't help.

There was a small "hi, what are you doing here? Huh, what a coincidence." Type of conversation. And then Duke sticks out his hand and says a (very awkward) "it's nice to meet you, Ms. Al Ghul." Which Talia shakes and says (also very awkwardly) "Uh, Talia is fine. And nice to meet you as well, Duke." Then leaves. Damian was surprised, he's never seen his mother so blatantly awkward before. He's seen her at a loss for words, but she remained elegant as she pondered what to say next. But in that moment, she was shy and dare he say nervous. "Thomas, what did you do to my mother?" "What? I dunno man. I was more worried about her glaring a hole in my skull."

The only trip that Damian went on with someone besides Cass was his trip to England, bc he wanted to go with Alfred. While he knows Cass would do fine, Damian wants to learn as much as he can, and learning from someone who grew up there and is close to him is his best bet. This of course took a lot of work, bc as everyone knows, Alfred Pennyworth is the backbone of the Batfamily, so convincing both him and the rest of the family would take some time and effort. But after a promise from Bruce to not be up to his ears in work while they were gone, Babs noting she will enforce that promise, plus Jason and Duke vowing to protect Alfred's kitchen at all costs, Alfred went with Damian for a week to visit the UK(by far the longest trip Damian went on).

And while the trip wasn't perfect(Damian almost beat a man bloody for insulting Alfred, and lots of bad weather), it was by no means a bad time. Damian picked up the accent and slang almost automatically, Alfred met some of his old friends. By consequence, Damian learned a lot about what his grandfather did before meeting the Wayne family, which he will not retell in a promise to Alfred(but he will say he knows just to mess with the rest of the family)

Did Wayne manor crumble in Alfred's absence? Surprisingly no. For the first couple days, Bruce made good on his promise to take care of himself, but by day 4, Babs had to entirely disconnect the computer when it was time for Bruce to sleep. And if Cass didn't guilt-trip the hell out of him and Steph didn't bully him, he probably wouldn't have fully left the bat-cave. Duke and Jason were able to protect the kitchen for the most part. Jason often made the dinner, and Duke catered to the random cravings of the rest of the family. They did have to call Kate for backup twice, but the smoke alarms never went off.

Overall having to fill Alfred's shoes was a good bonding experience for the family, though not one they would ever try to replicate willingly.

So I think that's all for Damian Wayne's summer world tour.

[mayumiaki]

seriously need a tag for this fic so i can keep track of my ideas... open to suggestions

anyway, so far, here's what i got for the ruth bellamy x captain brainworms

captain julia thackery, the stranger, sister to ex-site supervisor of scylla hephaestos mining operations. the intense grief she feels when she discovers his logs on the terminal at the abandoned mining outpost. the rage and despair of finding out that s. needham/hephaestos relocated her beloved brother to certain death on a space rock of temps around 170C. the guilt, even, of having survived and outlived her brother, who continued to miss her til his last, who wrote happy birthday logs to her, even in her absence. the guilt he felt, having convinced her to board the hope and join him in halcyon, only for the hope to have gone missing. how crushing it is to hold all this.

how, too, it makes relatable ruth bellamy's grief-driven war path on eridanos. i imagine julia seeing herself in ruth. i imagine them bonding over their grief, their criticisms of corporations/the board... licking some of each other's wounds. marvelling at each other's strengths. trading secrets. i imagine julia sharing her own path, inspiring ruth to direct her grief and rage into determination.

i imagine them parting, as julia heads to skip the hope and infiltrate tartatus... and ends up busy at the helm of the efforts to save the colony. havent sorted out what ruth's doing in the meantime, why she doesnt just come along. i feel like she's got some things to sort out first.

i imagine them reuniting... i have a dozen reunion scenarios that im playing around with. im leaning towards the more unexpected reunions. i love the idea of an intense moment of surprise, tension, longing, fondness—perhaps even urgency. they've finally found each other again; they're not letting go this time. wouldnt it be funny to have this be at the end of a lot of just missing each other by a hair, accidentally mirroring the events of eridanos?

i imagine, in a colony undergoing a lot of changes, julia insists on the abandoned mining outpost remaining as is, least until she dies. i imagine her making a home of her brother's scylla residence. maybe she invites ruth there, someday.

i imagine ruth and julia work to better the colony, side by side, once they reunite. i imagine them becoming life partners. i imagine ruth dedicates the first aetherwave she directs to her two most beloved people in the universe, belinda and julia.

it's all just a braindump rn but a multi-chapter fanfic is brewing all because i'm gay as hell for ruth bellamy

[sharkieboi]

started playing Abzu on my switch, finally, after owning it for literal years, and while I have no idea what the fuck is going on in terms of the story (WHAT are the triangles that keep electrocuting me and what are all these temples) it is so beautiful and enthralling and has honestly been really helpful in my sadness that I haven’t been able to swim or go to the beach or scuba dive in the past couple years

[tofixtheshadows]

Hot take: Laios wouldn't actually mind an arranged marriage. Obviously "reluctant royal being pressured into marriage" is very fun for shipping purposes. But I have harlequin blood, so bear with me. Join me on this journey of character theorizing/shipping nonsense that makes it abundantly clear I have a Scrivener document I'm neglecting.

Laios was promised to someone from a young age. He and Falin both were; it's probably how their parents ended up together. They both broke it off by leaving their village, but it didn't seem to be a factor in Laios's own decision. And when Marcille, presumably, asks about his hypothetical love life (bicorn chapter), he not only brings it up readily, but actually seems kind of flattered? lmao

I love when smug Laios comes out. Underrated factor of Laios's personality for me is how much he enjoys being seen as cool. I think you'd expect Laios to be embarrassed or uneasy over this line of questioning, and the fact that he isn't is fun to me.

So when Yaad and his other old advisors bring up his need for a wife, Laios is ready to go along with it. Not necessarily thrilled by the prospect, but he was raised to think of marriage as a business arrangement you do because it's beneficial for your household/bloodline (as was often the case historically). He's already made the big step to claim a throne, and the idea of becoming village chief after his father seemed to have been vaguely in the back of his head all his life. Besides, if he has to do it anyway, I think he'd take comfort that there was a formalized process for an otherwise socially messy undertaking.

This dovetails neatly with my personal headcanon that Laios is gay but unaware of it. He comes from kind of a repressed culture- or at least I can imagine he does based on context clues- and has spent most of his life being ostracized in one way or another, feeling like he's on the outside of humanity. So he doesn't realize that his lack of attraction to women is unusual- he assumes that nobody really enjoys romance that much. It's not like his own parents married for love. It's just something people play up for stories, right?

It's all tangled up with his fraught desire for human connection and platonic companionship anyway. Meanwhile he's blithely unaware that the things he says about Toshiro are not normal bro things. Oh you'd totally marry Toshiro, Laios? Tell me more.

I see this in Marcille too. Firstly due to her unstable development, which has only recently allowed her to reach maturity (I headcanon her as somewhere between 20-22) and secondly due to her being a half-elf (infertile+a too-long lifespan), I think she has the expectation that she's simply not destined for love. The half-elf character she relates to in her favorite books says as much. So she, too, confuses a genuine lack of heterosexual attraction with the belief that this is just because of her half-elf status distancing her from it. Plus, she spent over a decade as a student/researcher in a nice little sheltered academic bubble, at an all-girls academy populated by adolescents. She's the most sheltered of all the characters: she's only spent the past year in the "real world", and she still focuses all her romantic attention on living vicariously through her favorite characters or her friends (except for Falin, conveniently!).

And Marcille would absolutely want to live vicariously through Laios and his future wife. She would not want him to go through a dispassionate formalized process: she wants her bestie to have a fairytale romance! What is the point of being a heroic king in a mythic castle if you can't even get a love story for the ages out of it?

This would result in a lot of Laios meeting with eligible bachelorettes at Marcille's urging, looking to Kabru for help the entire time and being grilled by Marcille afterwards about what he liked best about each girl. "She had nice, um, teeth?" They're both so close to getting it.

Kabru, meanwhile, is agitating for Yaad and the other advisors not lock the country into a hereditary monarchy, they have the chance to do something radical here, to break away from the systems that the elves and dwarves uphold. At the very least, let Laios marry for love, or formally adopt an heir and name them his successor if he wants, he's already sacrificed enough for the sake of Melini. Don't make him jump through these circus hoops for the chance of some trade agreements, we can get those without a royal marriage. And even if Laios was willing to go along with it, he does look at Kabru like he's his hero for sticking up for him.

The vague unhappiness Kabru feels at the idea of Laios being married off is easy for him to ignore. Kabru didn't actually get better at honoring or even recognizing his own wants just because he's moved past the dungeon. And Laios hasn't gotten the hint about his crush on Toshiro and is still 50/50 on saying casually shocking things, so when he remarks that he doesn't need a wife anyway when he has Kabru, he has no idea why that gets him the looks it does. After all, where he's from, men marry women to run their households, but Laios has castle staff for that, and Kabru is handling the rest?

That comment alone ticks one month off their collective gay awakening countdown.

Anyway. How many repressed gays in their twenties does it take to run a country?

Answer: Yaad can tell you.

[erodasfishtacos]

Boredom & Blind Dates [pt I]

summary: yn is a good friend, who's willing to go on a blind date so that her friend can try to pull the man of her dreams. the new bigshot doctor at the hospital she's works. the dinner isnt as charming as she hoped

word count: 5k

warnings: angst

author's note: hii! this was based off a request. the rest will be posted on patreon and there’s already another part up :)

You can subscribe for $3 USD a month here

+

Victoria was a friend that YN had made in college when they were both studying completely opposite majors but happened to be roomed in the same two-bed dorm.

They clicked instantly and just like their majors, they were also exact opposite in their personalities too but it somehow just meshed perfectly together.

Victoria was a social butterfly who did not have a fear of being the center of attention, going after whoever she wanted (and typically pulling them), and her confidence was impressive.

Despite how smart Victoria was, she had a tendency to come off a bit ditzy, and has been called an air-head more than twice in YN’s presence.

The boys in more prestigious majors like law and medicine usually didn’t find her carefree attitude as appealing.

While Tori snagged the frat boys, YN steered clear of them which worked because they had never once had a crush on the same man.

After graduation, it only made sense to move in together because Seattle was a ridiculously overpriced city but their job wages were competitive.

Victoria was a nurse, she worked on a surgery recovery wing, and complained about her job constantly because of the crabby patients and long hours.

YN worked behind a desk all day, very rarely having to interact with anyone but if she did - it was all virtual from home.

She was the head accountant for a social media marketing company which was a pretty high position for the few years of experience she had.

YN had always been serious, more mature for her age, and always excelled above everyone else in her grade.

It hadn’t been a surprise when she was valedictorian or made summa cum laude in her undergraduate and masters degree with ease.

YN didn’t party, didn’t love socializing out in clubs but would go when Victoria pressured her enough to do so, and it was fine.

YN had been so involved in establishing her career, creating a successful life, and making a name for herself that she didn’t have time for the things Victoria did.

Dating app hookups, one night stands from the bar, and casual flings that only lasted a few weeks was how Tori rolled.

Typically, at least once a month, she was bawling to YN about the latest dickhead who treated her like she was disposable but kept going for the same type.

YN had empathy to an extent, always uncorked the wine and half-listened to her rants about chivalry being dead while she was still thinking about an account she needed to work on because the deadline was coming up.

YN liked to think she lived vicariously through Victoria’s stories which worked for her because then she didn’t have to experience those things herself.

+

YN had been sitting on the couch, laptop balanced on the wide arm as she scrolled through work emails while catching up on her guilty pleasure reality show.

It was nearly ten at night but she was waiting for a reply from a customer with a time difference, work could sometimes be a whole day and night ordeal.

There was no question that YN was uptight, rarely - if ever relaxed, and did not have much time for anything other than what put a hefty sum in her bank account every two weeks.

Victoria tumbled through the front door in a way that is uniquely her - like a hurricane.

Her keys jingling, her water bottle bumping and sloshing water as she drops her purse on the floor unceremoniously with a chapstick rolling out.

She tosses all of her items in a messy pile on the ground with her bag, kicking off her tennis shoes, and nearly prances into the living room.

YN blinks over at her, the excitement of her arrival was a routine now, she no longer gets annoyed that her best friend makes an entrance like that each time.

“Babe, guess what,” Victoria squeals as she sits down right next to her on the couch, still in her magenta colored scrubs and her mascara smudged near her eyes.

“What?” YN replies as she mindlessly clicks refresh in her email, wishing for this message with the information she needs to appear.

“Our new Chief of Medicine started today! He was the head of neurology at another hospital. A literal brain surgeon which, of course I’ve met others but he’s like…the best of the best. They write news articles about him, his studies in medical journals, he’s a big deal,” Victoria is still excited as she nearly bounces in her spot, shaking YN’s laptop.

YN puts a hand up to make sure her computer doesn’t topple, still nonplussed as she looks at her friend, “What does this have to do with you? Is it just because he’s famous in the medical world?”

“No, he’s fucking gorgeous too. I didn’t think you were allowed to be as smart as he is while looking like he just walked off a runway during Paris Fashion Week,” Tori giggles as her cheeks go a bit pink, “He’s the hottest doctor I’ve ever seen.”

“Tori,” YN sighs, clicking her refresh again - nothing, “Again, what is this information leading to?”

“Well I bumped into him today, literally, in the hallway. We spoke briefly, he was polite but serious, and I felt like he was flirting with me. I feel like I have a chance with him,” Her roommate tells her, that same confidence present as ever that she can pull this big shot doctor.

“Good luck with that. I’m sure he’s married with kids,” YN replies somewhat dismissively, unamused that this is how her friend spends her time.

“Nope,” Tori quips back happily, “I googled him. He just made the New York Times list as one of the most eligible bachelors in medicine. Single as they come.”

“I thought you didn’t want to date someone who also worked in medicine,” YN reminds her, clicking refresh once again to no results.

“He’s the exception. If I could settle down with a fuckin neurosurgeon, chief medical officer like come on that would be my biggest achievement,” Victoria pulls out her cell phone, tapping across the screen.

And YN just…cannot relate.

YN only fell in love once.

Where she could fantasize about a life with that person, marriage, kids, a house but it was all fantasy as they were never official in that way.

It was crushed and YN made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t let herself dream like that again.

“Do you want to see a picture?” Victoria asks as she looks for an image to show.

As a stroke of luck, YN’s work phone starts buzzing, and it’s the client she was waiting for to email her, “I’m sure he’s as attractive as you say, Tor. I have to take this.”

Her friend mumbles something about her being in a relationship with work which is honestly not that far off at this point.

However, it gives her an excuse to lock herself in her office for a few hours to avoid the ideas of love, Victoria’s fantasy world, and think about nothing but numbers and percentages.

+

The next few weeks blend together for YN.

Every few days she actually catches up on her work.

Every few days Victoria recounts her very purposefully crafted run-ins with the chief medical officer to shoot her shot.

Victoria has always been forward, asking bluntly for what she wants but with such a seemingly intimidating man, she finally has met her match.

Her roommate deems the doctor as ‘playing hard to get’ but YN starts to wonder if she’s imagining the spark between them or if it’s truly there.

She talks about times where the doctor flat out ignores her in the hallway but brushes it off that he was extremely busy on a pressing issue.

But then there are times where he will pull her aside, gently by the wrist and ask her about how her day was going, and appear to be interested in her answers.

YN loved her friend but was wildly uninterested in these events, the only thing that kept her curiosity lingering was if she was actually going to snag the head of the biggest hospital in Seattle.

She doesn’t hear much for a week or two.

At least three months have passed since the doctor started.

And this finally appears to be a payoff when Victoria comes home with her usual hurricane routine of leaving a trail of her belongings as she comes through the front door.

“Oh my god, oh my god. Close your laptop and look at me!” Victoria announces dramatically as she rushes over to the couch, taking it upon herself to close the lid of YN’s work computer.

“Tori,” YN scolds with a grumble, she really didn’t appreciate it when her friend interrupted her work flow in the middle of her meticulously constructing a report.

“Hush,” She replies, brushing off her concerns, and patting YN’s thighs, “I need the absolute biggest, most massive favor from you ever. And I really need you to agree, I’ll owe you for eternity.”

This didn’t sound good.

YN blinks at her, expression still unamused as ever.

“Okay. I am going on a date with the chief,” Victoria squeals, high-pitched and loud, “But it’s a double-date, he was telling me he’s looking for a date for his friend. I offered you and he invited us all to dinner at The National.”

Fancy.

And YN tries to settle the itching annoyance at her friend offering her up without her approval but unfortunately it was a very Victoria-like thing to do.

Despite how uptight YN could be, she had a soft spot for her friend and would do anything within her to make her happy so instead of lecturing her about setting her up, YN agrees.

YN thinks about it as the days pass until the date, what’s stopping her from actually giving this a try?

The only information she received about her blind date was that he was also a doctor, orthopedics, and his name was Mitch.

YN dresses nicer than she had originally planned, in a form fitting black dress that shaped her chest phenomenally, making her smaller tits look full and lifted.

It also defined her backside well too, making it rounded and voluminous in a way that it normally didn’t look in her regular outfits.

YN hadn’t been with anyone in over a year, not even a casual hookup because she didn’t do those - she did commitment.

Maybe Mitch would be the one.

YN wasn’t one for magical thinking like her best friend but maybe this is what optimism was supposed to be like as opposed to her normal pessimist outlook.

Victoria dressed stunning as well, albeit a bit more revealing which was her go to, cut-outs along her ribs and the hem was nearly to her bum cheeks so she couldn’t bend over without revealing all of her bits and pieces.

YN was sure that the doctor she was pining after would take her home with her that night but she also knows Victoria is possibly looking at this to become serious.

It was all up in the air.

The National was a quiet restaurant, where business meetings were held and deals were made.

Everyone dressed in expensive outfits that made YN and Victoria’s seem a bit out of place but they blended in well enough.

Neither have been to the location before because it was reservation-only and you had to have enough of a name in Seattle to bother calling.

The fact that the chief was able to get them a table, at relatively short notice was flex in itself, showing off what clout he held in the community.

YN wasn’t impressed, per se, felt like it was a bit-show off but nevertheless it was a nice experience that she’d never likely have again after this night.

Victoria gives the hostess their name before they’re being guided towards the back of the restaurant, it lit dimly enough that it would be hard to see the menu.

As they arrive at the table, there’s two meticulous dressed men sit across from one another, both handsome in different ways.

However, one has a big smile and stands up whilst the other stays seated with a scowl that seems permanently etched on his face - light wrinkles to show for it.

The man who stands up reaches for YN’s hand, kissing the back of it, and introducing himself, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve been looking forward to it all week, darling. I’m Mitch.”

“YN,” She replies even though he already knows, allowing the kiss and giving him a polite smile back as he pulls out her chair for her.

Victoria walks around the table, somewhat awkward as her date doesn’t get up or offer to move her chair out, only a curt, “Hello, Victoria. You look nice.”

“Thanks,” Tori blushes easily, YN has to refrain from rolling her eyes at the interaction, she always fell for the rudest, douchey men on Earth.

This doctor was no different as he says back in his chair, shoulders broad, and back straight, head held high as he watches Mitch help YN in her seat.

“Thank you,” YN brushes her fingers against Mitch’s shoulder as he sits down, making eye contact with her date once again.

He had these sincere brown eyes, a shy smile, and his long hair was pulled back into a ponytail as he nods at her.

Mitch wasn’t her type, though she wasn’t picky, and was willing to give anyone a chance - he just wouldn’t be someone she would pick herself.

Maybe that’s a good thing.

“What’s good here?” YN asks Mitch as she opens her menu, it was a small list of entrees, most that YN had only seen on cooking shows or never even heard of.

“I haven’t been here. Styles here is a regular but that’s because he’s the big name ‘round here, well according to London Times - everywhere,” Mitch teases as he glances up at his friend.

Styles doesn’t even lift his lip in a half-smile, his eyes dart to YN before his friend, “The Steelhead Trout is good as is the Filet Migon.”

YN’s eyes trace back over the menu, heart seizing a bit as the numbers next to the entree - realizing that was the price was a bit of shell shock.

She knew that Mitch would pay for her but she felt guilty about ordering something that was well over a hundred and fifty dollars when she would never pay that for dinner herself.

“I think I’ll just get the thai salmon,” YN replies as she glances over, it was the cheapest option, not by much but still.

“There’s peanuts in the sauce,” The doctor tells her as he glances up from his own menu to look at YN.

YN brow furrows at him, lips turning down, and about to say something when he adds, “Victoria informed me that you have a severe peanut allergy and to choose a restaurant that could prepare your food properly.”

YN blinks to process before looking over to Victoria, “Thanks, Tor.”

“I’d rather not see freshman year thanksgiving happen again,” Victoria jokes but there is some real concern there from such a traumatic incident.

YN had accidentally come into contact with some type of nut that sent her into an anaphylactic shock.

They couldn’t find her epipen for a good two minutes until they did and were able to administer her medication until she could make it to the hospital.

Victoria had anxiety about food in their house for ages, paranoid about her own contact with the allergen, and always made sure everyone was aware of YN’s condition.

“I’ll get the filet then,” YN sighs, giving up on picking a cheap option as she closes her menu, and the waiter pours a red wine into her glass.

YN was not in the mood to drink, preferring to sip on her water instead as Victoria and Mitch emptied their first glass quickly.

Victoria’s date sipped more sophisticatedly on his, swirling it like a proper snob before taking a minuscule sip as if he was savoring it.

Mitch seemed very interested in YN, asking multiple questions about her work and personal life, he put an arm around the back of her chair which YN didn’t necessarily mind as they spoke.

From what YN could see, Victoria was not having as much luck with her date as their conversation appeared strained, her friend was doing ninety percent of the talking, and Harry was nodding with an expression of boredom.

After the soup and salads arrive, Mitch and Harry start to chat about something going on with the hospital protocols.

Victoria tries to add in, he doesn’t acknowledge her but Mitch does instead after an uncomfortable pause of silence between them.

YN stays quiet, unable to add anything, and after a moment, Mitch huffs out a laugh, “Enough work talk, we’re excluding YN.”

Harry raises his eyebrow at her, “Need to be the center of attention?”

“Hey,” Mitch frowns, rubbing at YN’s shoulder, “I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. I’m sorry if I just-“

“You’re fine,” YN waves her hand dismissively, giving her friend’s date a displeased glance that Harry returns the scowl just like he’d been doing all night.

Victoria is oblivious, as she tends to be, and is much too focused on keeping her date’s attention to worry about anything else.

“What do you do for work?” Harry asks her, randomly cutting off a story that Victoria was telling about a patient that eloped recently.

“I’m a head accountant for a social media marketing company. What about you?” YN returns the question with sickeningly sweet politeness.

She felt like Harry was a pompous prick, taking pride in his rankings, education, and had a better than attitude that YN really felt was unappealing.

To act like she didn’t know shit about him was the perfect way to irritate him apparently.

It works.

The way his teeth clench together as the wrinkle between his brow deepens further, he straightens his suit jacket before leaning forward to appear casual.

“I’m the Chief Medical Officer of The Hospital of Seattle, a neurosurgeon specializing in spinal cord injury as well as stroke and trauma, I own three outpatient medical practices, as well as instruct other neurosurgeons on new techniques and equipment,” Harry boasts, to be fair, it was extremely impressive.

There was no doubt that the man sitting across from her was extremely intelligent, she’s probably never been around anyone as smart as him but it didn’t excuse his attitude.

You can be intelligent and humble at the same time.

Apparently Doctor Styles did not get the memo.

“That’s nice,” YN replies as she takes a very small sip of wine, even though she was impressed, it didn’t reflect in her bored tone.

Harry scoffs, sitting back, and licking the front of his teeth.

His eyebrow was raised as he repeated in disbelief, “That’s nice? Nothing else, huh?”

Victoria’s eyes dart nervously between the two, she grips Harry’s bicep, “I think it’s the most impressive thing I’ve heard. Not to mention the medical journals you wrote for or the volunteer work.”

YN tucks her bottom lip between her teeth, tampering down a smile at getting a reaction out of her friend’s date, just as she had hoped.

“S’really not as impressive when the person needs to flaunt their accomplishments so extravagantly,” YN shrugs as she puts down her wine glass, nonchalant as ever, and acting as if she was being casual.

Tori delivers a kick to her shin underneath the table, along with a scolding look for her to drop the attitude with Harry because it was ruining their date.

YN pulls back because she did feel guilty at getting into it with this doctor who Tori was trying to pull and she wasn’t increasing the chances with the snide comments.

Harry is about to respond, his ringed fingers clenched on the table, and there were tattoos peeking out from the cuffs of his suit that were very undoctorlike, “You know what I think-?”

“Uhm,” Mitch coughs awkwardly to break up the tension that was getting thick and cloying between everyone at the table, “Victoria, where did you get your nursing degree from?”

The conversation breaks off, Victoria and Mitch start chatting as YN and Harry remain pretty much silent throughout the appetizers.

Victoria is forward, trying to touch her date when possible.

A brush of his hand here, a squeeze of his bulky bicep there.

Though Harry doesn’t shrug her off, he also doesn’t return the favor at all.

He is nearly statuesque, unmoving, and able to sit very still for long amounts of time.

Of course, maybe that is overly obvious because of how all over the place her friend was at all times, unable to sit still for more than a few minutes without needing to adjust the way she’s sitting or fiddle with something on the table.

YN wonders if this whole thing was set up for Mitch and Harry just settled for being on a date with Victoria to help his friend out.

The thought hurt her to think about because she wanted better for her friend.

YN enjoyed having a job that paid her well, more than most people her age were making but it didn’t define who she was.

Doctor Styles seemed to be his entire job as his personality.

How boring.

When Harry manages to get the topic back onto a work issue, YN cannot help but let out a yawn that she very half-heartedly tries to cover with her hand because she could only hear so much about a spinal surgery before she’s zoning out.

Victoria is hanging onto his every word, asking questions, and being overly interested in a lackluster story in his monotone, deep voice that could honestly lull her to sleep because of how bleak and morbid he sounded.

However, when she yawns, no one at the table notices but Harry.

His eyes have darted over to her a few times while he’s been talking, almost to gauge her level of interest, and when she yawns, he visibly huffs before continuing - his words a bit more harsh and a flutter of annoyance twisting into his cadence.

YN had neglected her date during this whole time, in full honesty.

Victoria and Mitch seemed to have a great conversation.

When YN talked to Mitch, he was nice enough and easy to have a conversation with but his boss across the table was distracting and apparently felt the need to constantly be the center of attention even though that’s what he called YN out for. 

It’s rude, YN knows it is when she excuses herself to the bathroom mid-story, placing her napkin on the table before swinging her purse over her shoulder, and navigating into the dimly-lit restaurant towards the back.

YN goes into one of the many stalls, a larger bathroom, and sits down.

She didn’t have to go to the bathroom but she had just needed a break because…

What the fuck.

What the actual fuck?

YN would be crawling out the bathroom window if Victoria wasn’t with her.

YN hears the door open and she just knows it’s Victoria.

She is definitely going to give YN a piece of her mind for her attitude at the table and she really can’t blame her because she was not being on her best behavior admittedly.

When YN pushes open the stall, already starting her speech, “Tor, I know you’re probably pissed but -”

However, YN stops mid-setence when she sees that it was not Victoria standing across from her.

No, instead it was Harry, leaning back against the sinks with his arms crossed and a scowl worse than anything that he had displayed at the table across his face.

“Already dating again?” He asks unhappily, the slight crack of his deep drawl gives away the jealously laying behind those words, “That’s pretty fuckin’ rich, innit?”

“Don’t you dare,” YN hisses back, defensive and straightening up, “You don’t have any room to talk.”

“I have plenty,” Harry grits out, his gaze unwavering, his hand twitching like he wants to reach out, “You fucked everything up, not me.”

The awful thing is that YN wants him too.

“That’s not true,” YN murmurs softer, trying to keep the feisty edge in her voice but struggling.

The emotions that she was attempting to hold in at the table were much harder to bottle up when they were standing face-to-face like this.

“You like Mitch?” Harry ignores her rebuttal, his knuckles were white where they were gripping the kitchen sink, “Think he’s nice? Boyfriend material?”

“It’s none of your fucking business,” YN snaps back, finding her bravado a bit more.

“Come here,” Harry orders, voice quiet but sharp, demanding, and it sends a chill down her spine.

“Harry-” YN begins to argue but finds herself walking forward, her heart pounding hard enough that it hurts and her hands were shaking as she clung the strap of her purse as a lifeline as her heels clicked against the tile.

“C’mon, dove,” His voice is sweeter, more goading until she’s close enough to touch.

Her lips parted in nerves, excitement, dread.

His hand reaches out to curl around the nape of her neck, fingers lightly pressing into the sides of her throat and though it was gentle, it was possessive - rooted in the jealousy of what was going on tonight with their dates.

Harry brings her towards him by the hold he has on her, until her hands are laid on his chest, and he’s leaning down as he tilts her head up.

He brushes their lips together, once, twice, and on the third time, YN pulls back and takes a few steps away from him.

“You can’t just do that,” YN huffs, grabbing a tissue from the counter and dabbing at the corners of her eyes to prevent the tears from falling and ruining her makeup, “I’m on a date. You’re on a date. It isn’t fair to either of them.”

Harry laughs unhappily, shaking his head as pushes away from the sink, heading towards the door but before he leaves, he bites back, “I don’t think you have room to be talking about fair. You obviously don’t fuckin’ understand the concept of it. Pull yourself together before you come back out.”

YN knows it immature, proves his point but gives him the middle finger before going back to dabbing at her eyes - fuck, she wishes she didn’t cry around him.

She wondered if it was worth sneaking out the window and facing the wrath of her friend later.

+

ahhhhhhh.

let me know your thoughts. this was difficult to write but im glad it turned out how i wanted it too! what do you predict?

😙😙😙

[lackadaisycats]

Why does Fablepaint draw such mean spirited art of Rocky. Is it a personal sense of humor kind of thing? Or does disturbingly mean spirited art the only way for FablePaint to draw this character. Is it possible for some more lighthearted and optimistic stories regarding Rocky to show up anytime soon? I’m not saying this to try to be offensive or aggressive, I just think the world’s depressing enough, why make the fictional world sad as well. I do love the comic, I just wish it was happier.

I don't think Fable's art of Rocky is especially mean-spirited. At least no more so than mine has been. Rocky has always been a character with a knack for getting himself into trouble. I do know that Fable likes Rocky and finds various aspects of Rocky's personality and circumstances pretty relatable. I think a lot of what you're seeing actually comes from a place of affection, and maybe even a little bit of vicarious self-deprecation. I will tell you from my own experiences, this is very common among creators (myself included). A character may not be an intended self-insert of any sort, but you inevitably still end up with bits and pieces of yourself reflected therein. And in many ways, you're also inevitably sorting out some turmoil close to your own heart through the character and the story they inhabit.

-----------------

About the broader topic of sad things in fiction... Yeah, the world is harsh, cruel, and unfair even at the best of times, but I don't think art that fully disregards this does much service to anyone. The most fluffy, pastel-colored, marshmallow-mild media will still tend to present us with some conflict, because that's how a story manages to resonate. It's hard to convey something meaningful about human resilience, or abiding love, enduring friendship, confronting inner demons, triumph over injustice, or about the absurdity of living without acknowledging the darkness. Even if you're just writing something to make light of the implacable dark, it must be there for you to laugh at.

I think it's fine to use fiction as a temporary retreat from your own real life concerns. And I think it's fine to have comfort characters who you turn to when you need some uplifting. There are a lot of really sweet and lovely fan-works featuring Rocky out there that are much gentler with him than Fable or I will be. You can stick with those! That's okay! But canonically, he's part of a story about a tumultuous time in history, and a tumultuous time in his own troubled life. He's a flawed character surrounded by other flawed characters. He's willfully taken on the role of a violent criminal, in fact. And though I don't think the story of Lackadaisy is without happy, silly, lighthearted aspects, it's not only that. I can't change that without undoing everything I've been working toward. I hope that's understandable.

[jojissalsa]

Dangerous Game (part one)

you get a new job as a federal agent for the F.O.S, and now you're stuck dealing with the reckless D.S.O agent, Leon Kennedy.

Warnings: dom/older!Leon, sub!reader, slight age gap (reader is in late 20s, up to y'all), dirty thoughts, masturbation (f and m). this one is fairly tame. kinda.

WC: 2.8k

an: hey y'all!! i'm hoping to make this into a 3 parter, felt like my idea is a lil too big for just one fic, that's why this one is probably a tad more tame compared my previous stuff. as per usual, critique, reposts and requests are welcome! enjoy <3 (minors do not interact, go touch grass.)

Working for the Field Operations Support is fairly easy, you got a nice seat at the front desk as the receptionist, you’ve worked there for a good couple of years. Nothing crazy ever happened, and everyone respected you pretty well. Especially Hunnigan. Well, Ingrid to you, Hunnigan to your coworkers. You always respected her the most, always envious of her job. You initially applied for her job, but you could take being a receptionist. You could live vicariously through her, since she seemed to like you the most in and outside of work. Hunnigan was always so sweet, giving you a pleasant smile and a morning chat whenever she’d come in for work, bringing you lunch as you two got closer. That also opened the door to lots of girl talk, mainly about how stressful the job was sometimes. Hunnigan loved her job, truly, but it came with heavy challenges. A very heavy one would be Leon Kennedy, a D.S.O agent she’s worked with for a majority of her career.

You’ve heard some of the horror stories from her about the bioweapons, insidious cults and rich white guys that try to carry on Umbrella’s work but fail miserably every time. This time seemed a bit different though, more final for her. “Honestly, the guy is an idiot sometimes. Likable, but an idiot.” You snicker at how nice she’s being for how pissed she looks, angrily sipping her coffee from the breakroom. “I think you mean he’s a lovable dumbass, but I guess that works too.” You chuckle softly, stirring sugar into your own fresh cup of coffee. “Hey, I’m serious this time. I mean, come on, I’m getting older.” Hunnigan watches as you sit down across from her, a worried expression starting to take over your features. “You really think it’s time to call it quits?” “Maybe not quitting just yet, just maybe looking over a different agent. Spots are starting to open up y’know.” Your eyebrows shoot up at that, trying to hide your excitement as you look down to sip your coffee. “Well, maybe I can take your spot? I’m pretty confident, and I’ve done all the training.” She shares your new found excitement, reaching out to put her hand over yours. “I’ll pull some strings, okay? I think we both need a change of scenery.” Her sweet smile never fails to spread to you, you can trust her. She’s been your best friend, if you’re being honest, and you’re sure she shares the same sentiment.

It didn’t take long for those strings to be pulled, and soon you were standing in front of the President and a few other important men in nice suits, watching as you shake hands and smile awkwardly. Finally, you get a briefing on the infamous federal agent you would be helping. Leon Scott Kennedy. He’s got a good reputation with everyone in the room, saying that while he may have an “eccentric” personality, he’s a hard working man, compliments all coming from the President. You heard about it from Hunnigan and a few other agents that he saved his daughter from a deathly cult, and brought it all down in the same day. You could tell from his file that he clearly worked a lot, even if he didn’t get this job on his own violation. Sucks that he was forced into his life, but it’s good that he’s making it work. Seems like a good looking guy too, at least from the small picture of him clipped to the folder.

And now you’re waiting for that good looking guy to walk into your new office, setting down a few knick-knacks you had on your previous desk. You turn your head to the sound of someone walking in, your eyes widening as they set on the man who seemed to be searching for someone. Good looking was an understatement of the century. The way his blazer fits just right on his biceps, his light brown hair and piercing gaze that just speaks "brooding loner", if you weren't at work you'd have fallen to your knees the second he made eye contact with you. You try to reel in your awe as he walks up to you, dusting off your clothes to make you look put together. "So you're my new babysitter? Y/n, right? I'm Leon Kennedy." Just the sound of his voice is enough to give you goosebumps, but your name from his lips is like a drug that gets you hooked instantly. And just like that, something flips in your brain, you are so not gonna be professional, how can you? How can anyone handle themselves around this man? You shake his hand as he extends it for you, and the feel of his rough hand from hard work sends so many dirty thoughts through your mind, like how good it would feel with his fingers on your neck, or his palm pressed against your tit, or how thick his fingers would feel inside you- chill out, play it cool.

"It's great to finally meet you, Mr. Kennedy, everyone has told me a lot about you.." You make sure to say it in a sultry tone to make it obvious how much you think he's attractive, and he sure as hell catches it. "Good things, I hope." He chuckles, giving you a sly smirk. Oh he knows. Fuck. "Oh don't worry, it's been all good things, promise. Though, I have heard that you made Hunnigan’s job a lot harder." You tease, looking him up and down and matching his sly smirk. Two can play that game. "Sure, but I get the job done, no?" The way he says it is so damn sexy you're sure he's doing what you're doing. "I'm sure you get a lot of things done with that attitude, Mr. Kennedy." You act like you're being sarcastic as you cross your arms under your chest, but you know how he could make you cum with the brush of his arm. "Only one way to find out, right?" That one makes your eyebrows raise, your smile widening as you blush slightly. "Is that an invitation?" You drop your voice slightly, leaning against the wall. The curve of your body sends a shockwave of arousal through him, and his eyes narrow on your figure. "If that's what you think I meant then by all means." He's so damn smug and it just makes you wanna sit on his face to shut him up.

"Is there anything you wanna ask me? About myself, the job?" You try to sound professional and not desperate, but you feel like it's helpless when you're looking up at him and he's so obviously checking you out, his eyes taking note of every curve on your body. Like he’s studying it for later. "I think I have a pretty good idea from Hunnigan and the President, is there anything you wanna ask me?" His question makes your eyes light up, but you don't wanna immediately ask him on a date. Classy, that's who you are to your core. "I can ask you anything I want?" "Anything." You smile smugly, lowering your hand to take his, clearly inspecting his ring finger as you bring it closer to you. "Do you have a girl? I don't see a ring on your finger." You say it in an innocent yet flirty tone that he so obviously gets turned on from, considering how he chuckles lightly as he shakes his head before taking his hand away. "So observant. I guess that comes with the job, huh? No, I'm single." Always such a tease, I guess neither of you can help that though. "Really? I have a hard time believing that." You have a faux surprised look on your face, all in the name of trying to get him to blush. You're getting close, you can feel it. "Is it? I'm an old man, what can I say." That one gets you shifting your thighs, biting your lip as you think of just how much older. What kind of experience comes with that age? "Old man, hmm? You ever thought of being with someone younger?" You step a little closer, just barely invading his personal space. "Haven't met anybody that can keep up." He says it so nonchalant, but fuck if it doesn't light a fire that spreads throughout your body. God, it's so hard not to say you could totally keep up, doesn't matter how long he'd want it. "Keep up, hmm? What, does this job give you a lot of stamina or something?" Your question makes him smile at you confidently, and it gets you oh so excited. "Well, I meant that most women don't like that I'm constantly busy, but if you wanna be dirty minded about it, be my guest." He totally stumps you, and it just makes you giggle and rest your hand on his arm, letting out a lil “my bad” before letting it slip away. You're slick, cause you honestly just touched his arm to feel how firm it was, and oh my god. Like diamonds, kind of hard. You can't imagine how fucking good it’d feel wrapped around your neck- there you go again. Snap out of it.

“You're pretty funny, you know that? I’m gonna have fun talking to you. For work, of course.” He let out a soft laugh at your flattery, loving how you tried to soften the thirstiness of your words with a joke. It's cute, you're really trying to say he's not hot. “Trust me, Hunnigan got very tired of my jokes.” You scoff, cause honestly, who could get tired of this guy? “Sorry, but she doesn't know what she's talking about, clearly you're an A class comedian.” You make it sound a little sarcastic, but he doesn't seem offended in the slightest. He loves a challenge. “Yeah? Aren't you a sweetheart? You love to flatter.” Your eyes widen a bit, resisting the urge to squeal and fan your hot face like a rabid fangirl, simply looking away to try and take a moment away from his hungry gaze. “I mean, it's hard not to, Mr. Kennedy..” You sheepishly give him that win, you’ll take it since he called you sweetheart, and in that teasing, cocky fucking tone of all things. If Cupid was real, you’d probably have a million arrows in your back right now. He parts his lips to reply, but gets cut off by his phone ringing, taking it out of his pocket to see the President calling. “Shit, I gotta take this.” He sighs, clearly wanting to keep talking to you instead. “It’s just Leon by the way, no need for formalities.” You get a smug smile again before he starts to walk back to the door of your office, walking with him to let him leave so you could wave him goodbye. “I’ll see you around, okay?” You nod, your smirk not leaving as he waits for you to say goodbye. “I’ll see you around, Mr. Kennedy~” You and your teasing, it's gonna throw him into cardiac arrest. He shares your smugness before begrudgingly answering his phone, looking back to see you waving bye at him with your dainty little hand. Like you knew he didn't wanna end the conversation.

He couldn't stop thinking about you all damn day after your little exchange, could barely focus on his briefing or look anyone in the eye. Even when he got home, knowing he had to wake up supremely early for work, he couldn't get you off his mind. You weren’t like every corporate drone the D.S.O hires, nothing like Hunnigan either. Bless the woman, but he would finally have someone to laugh at his shitty dad jokes. No wonder you got the job. You were drop dead gorgeous to him, not daring to come close to any Victoria Secret model. The way you giggle when you're nervous, how you sneak touches or how forward you are. God, it took every fiber in his body to not grab you and fuck you in a storage closet. Or against the wall? He just towers over you, he could fold you like a lawn chair and you’d take every inch. Fuck, how did his cock get in his hand? Who cares, honestly. He’s too busy spitting in his hand, too worked up to get anything better to help him jerk off. He groans, thinking of how good your soft, delicate fingers you used to wave at him would feel wrapped around his dick, whispering in his ear in that sexy voice you have. He feels chills down his spine when he remembers the way you teased him, how you didn't even say his name. Cause you didn't wanna give it to him yet, that satisfaction. Jesus, you're gonna kill him before any bioweapon does if you keep that shit up. His hand gets faster as his thoughts keep speeding forward, thinking about how good you’d sound saying his name. Not Mr. Kennedy, Leon. He has to hear it, has to hear you scream it when you cum on his cock. He needs to know how pretty you’d look when you cum, clinging to his arms, maybe even digging your nails into his back as your legs lock around his waist. So fucking hot as you beg to have him fill you up. He cums in his hand, spilling out of his palm and down his happy trail. He lets out a heavy sigh, catching his breath as he comes down from his high. He's not even close to feeling satisfied, even as he gets up to go shower again. He needs you, and he knows you feel the same. Hard part is gonna be getting you, without all the stress of what your coworkers would say.

You honestly don't stray too far from how he felt that night either. The second you closed the door to your office, you sat down and processed everything. It was a lot, seeing a man that fucking fine and not being able to drop to your knees and take his cock in your mouth. You were close to sprinting to a bathroom and taking care of the issue, maybe even slipping a hand between your legs and just testing the waters. Literally. He made you so wet, and you could feel it your entire shift, even as you walked to your car. You could only imagine how wet you’d get if he actually did anything. If he talked dirty? Him telling you to cum would make you do it on the spot, no question. Fuck, if he touched you? You’d be screaming like a damn pornstar, waking up the whole building when he slides his cock inside you. It's all you can think about when you get home, not caring to take a shower when you do. You just plop down on your bed and practically tear your clothes off, desperate for relief. Maybe that’ll save your career, fucking yourself thinking about him. So you do, pulling your nightstand drawer open the second you’re naked, taking out ol’ reliable. You can't count on your hands how many times this vibrator was there for you, it was way more reliable than your parents or therapist. Or you could be addicted to cumming, that too. But who wouldn't be? It's not your concern, especially if it's because of Leon. You wanna hear him say the most degrading, defiling, depraved shit in the world but still praise you for it, praise you for putting out so easily cause you're such a good girl. If fucking him with no hesitation makes you a slut, then you wear that badge proudly. That title feels even better when you start moaning his name, your toy hitting that sweet spot which makes you move your hand faster, needing to cum so damn bad. It feels so dirty in the best way possible, thinking of how firm his thighs would feel under your hands as you grip them tighter every time he shoves his cock further down your throat. You can’t imagine how fucking hot it’d be to hear him order you to grind your wet cunt on his boot, holding your hair so hard that you can’t help but push your nose against his pelvis, making your clit nudge against his boot again. Hearing that cocky son of a bitch tell you to cum would be like the devil coaxing you to join him down in hell, too sinful to imagine without having the real thing. It doesn't stop you from cumming on your toy, whining as your legs shake, turning it off as you heave out breaths. You’re fine if you think about him every night, it's good material for your shower thoughts. You’re more excited for his upcoming mission, making you all giddy as you get ready for bed. You're gonna be insufferable. Lucky Leon~

[cyborg-squid]

Slept and reflected on my Canto 7 thoughts some more and stumbled some themes regarding the original Don Quixote and the themes of parent and child they have with Sancho and the Family; this was sparked by DQs panic effect which was something like 'Duty/Responsibility to the Family' (can't find the exact text).

And, while this might not be something I personally agree with, there's this idea and trope that parents, when they have a family, have to give up some of their hobbies or aspirations or the like; we can see that, by the end of DQs story, he has accepted that he has to give up his heroic dreams in order to take care of his Family, believing now that the two can no longer coexist. And knowing, rather accurately, that it was his dream that put his Family in this position to begin with; at the start, his Family didn't really believe in his dreams of human and Bloodfiend coexistence and heroic Fixers, but they were willing to go along with it because they love their Father.

It's a little painful to type this, but the assessment of his dream as being naive is pretty accurate, at least in it's manifestation via La Manchaland, because while he has been able to maintain strong self-discipline in refusing to drink from humans, his Children didn't have that same quality and didn't fully know what they were getting into with being a part of La Manchaland, and the deprivation they would end up being subjected to, all for a cause and dream they didn't truly believe. It's no surprise, then, that they ended up breaking. The Children, even though they're not being forced per se, go along with it in order to make their Father happy, without fully knowing what it would entail.

And by the time of the final boss fight, DQ knows this, sees the suffering his childish dream has wrought upon his family, and is now ready to bear the responsibility of taking care of them, as well as the responsibility for their sins, which (in his eyes) means the final abandonment of his long held dream. Our Don Quixote has most often been depicted as a childish one, but it is La Manchaland's Don Quixote that now has an arc depicting a reaching of maturity, albeit a stunted sort. Like I said earlier, the idea that being a parent, starting a family, means letting go of your past dreams...

...but he really didn't need to. Because DQ's dream of peace, tomorrow, and of Fixers, which he first inherited from Bari, were successfully passed on to Sancho, even if she didn't recognize it at first. It's not something that grew naturally in her, it seems, as she ended up being the more 'realist' one than DQ in the past (in the present Canto these positions are reversed), but they're present nonetheless, and that belief is stronger in her than it is in others of the Family, likely because she was the one with a stronger bond to their Father Don Quixote, as well as becoming closer to Bari, the originator of said dream.

Because with Sancho, the belief in the dream isn't innate or 'natural' to her, we see that the world of the City is not an easy place for dreams of peace and justice to exist in, but she believes in and loves her Father (and dear friend Bari), who believed in that dream, and thus she will continue on that adventure in his stead. Because there is also this idea of parents living vicariously through their children, or children carrying on the legacy of their parents. La Manchaland's Don Quixote, as shackled, by duty and responsibility, to the past as he now is, is unable to move forward as he once could, but Sancho, our Don Quixote, is still able to, thanks in large part to the gifts and dreams he gave her (as well as the aid of the Sinners, in helping her realize that the dream is not yet ended), and will now move forward in his stead.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Oh my goodness I adored Sun eats Moon. It was such a well-put together story! Cannot stop thinking about it as well as your other works. Even though the trilogy ended, I was thinking about Satoru’s reaction to if he caught the reader cheating? How would he take it?

!!!!!!!!!

ik i said no more sem asks buuuuut omg?? such SUCH a good question

i personally feel this is the only situation where cheating is excusable. i mean, youre stuck in an abusive relationship with no way out, i dont blame you. since satoru has basically stopped all communication with your friends/family and youre stuck in a penthouse all alone and pregnant, maybe you turn to the internet as a last ditch effort to feel something other than despair???

and that's when you meet him.

you two have never sent eachother pictures. you dont know what he looks like. you dont care about any of that. the things you two talk about feel so real. passions, favorite hobbies, etc etc. soon it moves onto fantasies: where he'd take you out on the first date, where he'd propose, where you two would get married.

it's so pathetic, but it's the only out you have.at least until Gojo finds out. when he does. It’s CHAOS. He’d loose his mind. Just the thought of you LOOKING at another man is enough to make him go insane but now he’s reading these chats and you’re talking about marriage, kids, a fucking pet dog

using his super richguy status he’d track down the IP and find the guy relatively quickly. And this person is probably the exact opposite of what he described himself as: a 40 year old man who still lives with his mom and lives vicariously through his internet persona….but so are you…it’s equally pathetic. still Gojo is furious. He’d probably force you to look at he kicks the shit out of this poor nobody. Maybe he’d ask one of his bodyguards to pitch in. And when that’s over he’ll order you to strip and suck him off in front of your AP so he can humiliate you even further. after that whole fiasco he’ll just get that guy blacklisted from every company in the city, but your punishment isn’t done.

even less freedom, even more supervision. youre basically just trapped in his penthouse. he doesn't trust bodyguards anymore, what if you start cheating on him with them too?? cameras are the only solution. you arent given real clothes anymore. your entire wardrobe of designer that he thought you'd be grateful for is ripped away in place of lingerie. its all youre given. and if you dont want to wear that, you could always just walk around naked since you're so insistent on being a little slut

from now on, its only rough sex. youre still gonna finish but hell make sure its torture. for weeks he'll refer to you as 'slut' 'whore' 'prositute'. no matter how many times you apologize.

he'd forgive you eventually, but until he does....oh boy

[jji-lee]

ᡣ𐭩 ｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅rent-a-girlfriend.com ~ yn's group

mystic messengers !

computer science major y/n prides herself in her amazing tech abilities. that's why she's so fascinated by the concept of otome games, you could say this inspired her to make romantic websites of her own such as www.rent-a-girlfriend.com, not like anyone is lame enough to actually try and rent a girlfriend. but hey, at least she can put it on her resume that she can make a dating site!

kim jungwoo fits right into his drama major, meaning he's dramatic as hell. he's the personal hype man, motivational speaker, and even a therapist when they need him to be. maybe it's the perks of being the oldest friend, but his girlies love him dearly and take his advice seriously. just imagine a loud hyper dad.

nobody can beat ning yizhuo the fashion major. from top to bottom she's perfection made reality. but her friends know that she's actually a complete dork. she rejects every guy that even tries to come near her, they'd never match up to the beauty the jumin. she's obsessed with otome games and she knows irl men won't cut it.

psychology major park wonbin is a girl trapped in a hot man's body. he's the most romantically experienced in the friend group trying every flavor of human on earth. his friends live vicariously through him enjoying his dirty stories, but maybe that's also the reason why y/n and ningning are scared of men.

these girlies met at a mystic messenger forum. jungwoo and y/n had to seperate ningning and wonbin from fighting over a life size jumin cardboard cut out. ever since that day the four have become inseperable, nobody gets them like they get each other! (they're giving recluse otaku tbh)

masterlist ~ jisung's group

notes : here we goooo, i didnt make any dream members part of y/n's friend group since they're part of the dream blunt rotation friend group aka all jisung's friends. so i picked 3 baddies instead! idk why i've been wanting to include jungwoo like he gives girly pops vibes idk.

taglist : @strawberrysavi , @sunghoonsgfreal , @axo-l0tl , @jakesbubu , @baobeii55 , @solvrse , @lionzyon , @hyucktion , @rksbae , @hyucksunset , @m1ng1swife , @byeonwooseokabs , @ohwowzersthatscool , @prettybluei , @kodasity , @catdonut657 , @slayhaechan , @yuujiswrld , @lvrholic , @dudekiss3r , @catpjimin , @multifandomania , @wonsyn , @nctrawberries , @kimsaerom , @n0hyuck , @nanaxwi , @neverbeurs , @4chensungs , @nneteyamss , @mrkleelvr , @njmluvr , @hyunjungjae , @dolleyedgirl , @cyjzzl , @aerivrs , @jeonghansshitester , @minkyuncutie , @413ktz

[ranna-alga]

I cannot stop thinking about Arthur and Mary and how truly tragic their love story is.

We know that a big reason why they couldn't be together was due to unfair circumstances. Despite Mary seeming internally conflicted about it all, it seemed like, at first, neither of them were willing to integrate themselves into each other's lifestyles and the consequences of that (Mary leaving her family behind and Arthur deserting the outlaw lifestyle), or at least in the first mission with Mary. But on the second? Mary takes back her word, almost impulsively, and says she is willing to run away with Arthur if it means they can be together. Despite the love and loyalty she has for her family (which mirrors Arthur's for the gang), she knows her family life will only continue to make her depressed, and being with Arthur makes her realise what she actually wants out of life.

And based on the implications of Arthur's words ("I want to. More than anything, I want to."), he may also be willing to even abandon the outlaw lifestyle. But he knows he likely can't. The one thing he fears the most is for the woman he loves more than anything else in the world is to be subjected to the violence that he is all too familiar with; he can deal with it if it's inflicted on himself as someone who grew up in such an environment, but Mary? He wouldn't forgive himself if something happened to her, especially when he likely already has an extreme amount of personal guilt for the deaths of Eliza and (especially) little Isaac, how he wasn't able to protect them.

But even at that, he promises to try. He's just as willing. He's willing to protect and look after her. He says they both need money, and he's willing to get it himself if it means they can abandon everything they once knew and start a new life on some newly-bought land. And what's so particularly painful is that you can just see the disappointment behind Mary's eyes at the mention of money... How, no matter what, money is always at the forefront of his mind, even if it seems valid on Arthur's end.

When she said "I'll write to you.", it seemed as if there was some hope left to be had on Arthur's end because at least they both have a chance now, right? But in my opinion, I feel like Mary was already mentally writing the final letter in her mind at that moment, and the time gap between that scene to the moment Arthur receives said letter was Mary desperately trying to put those thoughts into words on paper.

How must she have been feeling upon hearing about Arthur's death?

Imagine the life they could have had if things worked out. If they managed to run away and be happy together. Would their home be similar to John and Abigail's in the Epilogue? Would Arthur and Mary get married? What if they had children and Arthur got a second chance at being a father again, this time not being absent and being there every day, looking after his beautiful family with the woman he loves the most..?

Arthur deserved that life. Both him and Mary. And I think that's what made John and Abigail's ending in the Epilogue so much more impactful. Arthur may have died and Mary may have been elsewhere, but they lived vicariously through John and Abigail by living the lives they themselves deserved but couldn't have.

Hear that noise? That's the sound of my heart breaking.

[holllandtrash]

london boy | lando norris (6 to 1) - smau

part of the lover x 6 to 1 series | lando norris x leclerc! reader

So I guess all the rumors are true You know I love a London boy 

takes place 3 months after part 12 of 6 to 1 vote for the next part here

ynleclerc added to their story

landonorris added to their story

ynleclerc 📍 London, England

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 54,103 others

ynleclerc london night 1 + lando picking me up from the airport (merci to the person who captured him giving me a literal garden)

view all 508 comments

landonorris only the best for the best

ynleclerc i will expect flowers everytime now landonorris okay

givememclarens not a fan of the soft launch pics bestie everyone knows you're dating the least u could do is give us bf lando

liked by ynleclerc

charles_leclerc please return home in one piece

ynlelcerc no promises

lewishamilton my second home 🖤 let me know if you need recommendations

landonorris

liked by ynleclerc, arthur_leclerc and 314,484 others

tagged: ynleclerc

landonorris london rookie had to see all the sights today

ynleclerc you loved that double decker bus ride as much as i did landonorris i lost my bucket hat ynleclerc i told you not to wear it

charles_leclerc why aren't you sitting like a normal person

ynleclerc because i know how to have FUN charles

ynleclerc 📍London, England

liked by danielricciardo, riabish and 67,810 others

ynleclerc im sorry..the old y/n can't come to the phone right now

view all 315 comments

danielricciardo you know you're not just supposed to look at the phone booth right, you can actually go inside

ynleclerc leave me alone

charles_leclerc why are you wearing shorts in october

landonorris i asked the same thing ynleclerc its called fashion look it up

riabish cuuuute

ynleclerc can't wait to see you tomorrow ♡

ynleclerc added to their story

riabish added to their story

ynleclerc

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and 31,406 others

tagged: riabish

ynleclerc ria is a better tour guide than landon i said what i said

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riabish love you♡

charles_leclerc landon

danielricciardo not the landon slander

mclaren landon?🤨

oscarpiastri i love my teammate, Landon Orris

landonorris my goodness

landonorris added to their story

ynleclerc added to their story

landonorris

liked by riabish, charles_leclerc and 478,309 others

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landonorris she cleans up nice for someone who didn't get out of bed until 4pm

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ynleclerc i got ready faster than a red bull wins a race

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 5,607 others

mclaren but where's landon?

ynleclerc we are done with this joke oscarpiastri no we are not

thepaddockbulls never in my wildest dreams did i think i would ever see a leclerc make a joke about red bull winning

ynleclerc

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and 43,360 others

tagged: landonorris

ynleclerc day 6/6 🇬🇧 could this photo dump get any more british

landonorris there's no tea in any of those pictures

ynleclerc remind me to get some tmr before we leave

oscarpiastri where's landon?

ynleclerc OSCAR

nofornorris sad that her little london trip is ending i was living vicariously through her

sunnyseb petition for them to just move to london full time

landonorris added to their story

ynleclerc 📍home

liked by landonorris, mclaren and 89,205 others

tagged: landonorris

ynleclerc you know i love a london boy

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landonorris im from bristol

ynleclerc not today you aren't

danielricciardo you kids grew up too fast

mclaren Well if there's ever an F1 race in London, we know who'll be the first to support it 😉😉

OscarPiastri thought you loved Landon Orris

landonorris mate shes gonna block you, i just watched her throw her phone across the airport

----- vote for the next part here

[these-written-reveries]

I have a special request

may we have a fluffy platonic oneshot for hawks w/ a reader with four angel wings where they’re a third year at UA but never got a date to prom, so he decides they deserve at least one dance and shows up as their date?

please and thank you 🪽

You absolutely may! I hope I did your request justice! You didn't specify, so I made Reader a hero course student. I know this is a platonic fic, but I can totally see the potential for a friends to lovers story here (don't mind me, I'm just a huge sucker for that trope lol). Thanks for the request! ❤️

Birds of a Feather

‣ Pairing: Keigo Takami/Hawks x GN!Reader (Platonic)

‣ Summary: Your good friend Hawks finds out you don't have a date to prom and decides to fix that problem himself!

‣ Genre: Fluff (angst, if you squint)

‣ Warnings: none

‣ Word Count: 2,042

‣ A/N: UA is considered a university in my fics. I know that universities generally don’t have proms, but this is fiction, so we can pretend whatever we want! Cue: UA third-year prom, feat. Hawks as a surprise guest! Let's go! (P.S. - I was listening to Words by Gregory Alan Isakov as I wrote this. I think it's a very nice song for slow dancing ♡)

➼ Main Masterlist ➼Keigo/Hawks Masterlist

If anyone were to tell you before that you’d end up becoming such close friends with the number two hero, Hawks, you’d never believe them.

To your past self’s shock, it had really happened. How exactly? You weren’t quite sure. Maybe it started on the first day of your internship? He immediately complimented your beautiful set of white tandem wings, asking you questions about them with pure awe and fascination in his eyes. You found it quite endearing of him.

Or maybe it was when you took down your first villain together and realized you made a kick-ass team? After that day, he immediately offered you a permanent position at his agency, once you graduated UA. You couldn’t have been more thrilled to receive this news from someone you had always admired and looked up to.

Perhaps it was after that, when you both bonded over your shared experiences related to having big wings in a mostly-wingless world? That day was one you would always think back on with fondness.

You told him a story about how, one time, you crashed mid-flight into a huge mud pit. You and your friend spent hours removing all the dried clumps between your feathers. He one-upped your story with one of his own, telling you about the time that he came home after fighting a villain with a petroleum oil quirk that had managed to coat his wings with the gooey substance, which made it nearly impossible to fly. After struggling for hours to remove it himself, with little success, he had to embarrassingly enlist the help of his assistant.

“I hope you have her a raise, after that,” you chuckled.

He joined you in your laughter. “Oh, I did. A very generous one, at that. She was a real trooper that day."

The two of you laughed a lot over your shared stories. Both of you were grateful to have a friend that understood the parts of yourselves that most others didn’t, especially Keigo, who barely had anyone he could call a true friend for almost his entire life. It was refreshing, being friends with you.

Because of this, he quickly grew to be extra protective of you, from the moment he took you under his wing. He kept close tabs on you and checked in on you whenever he had the time. It was always so nice getting to hear how things were going for you, how your grades were, and what the newest gossip was at UA. He’d always say, half-jokingly, that if anyone gave you trouble, he'd fly over and put an end to it immediately, which always got a laugh out of you. He just really enjoyed having "normal" conversations with someone about "normal" things, for once—especially since he never got to experience a lot of these things, such as public school or prom. It was fun getting to vicariously live through you, in this way.

Towards the end of his parole shift, he thought about you, wondering if you were having a good time at your prom that night. You had been looking forward to it for a while, telling him about what you planned to wear and who you secretly hoped would be your date. Last he spoke to you, you had yet to confirm an official date to the dance, but he was almost certain that problem was resolved by now. You were a wonderful person with gorgeous looks and an amazing personality, he had no doubt in your ability to acquire many “promposals”, or whatever the kids called it these days.

It wasn’t until he checked the recent post on your social media account that he realized you, in fact, did not have a date.

At first, he was utterly confused.

Why hadn’t you told him? He would’ve gone with you in a heartbeat.

Then, he remembered just how considerate of a person you were. He told you he’d be working late shifts all week and you likely didn’t bother to ask because of that reason.

He looked at the picture of you in your stunning prom outfit before checking the time. A sigh pushed past his lips as he took off into the sky, flying home as fast as he could.

Worst prom ever.

You felt like a total outsider at this place, despite being surrounded by familiar faces and music. Your friends all had dates and were busy having fun with them. Meanwhile, you busied yourself at the punch table, sighing as you poured yourself another cup. Some of the others without dates lingered in this corner of the large room, but none of them seemed all that keen on striking up a conversation with you. They all seemed to be too busy drowning in their own pools of boredom, longing, and self-pity.

You began to wonder why you even came to this event when you knew you didn’t have a date and your friends would all be too preoccupied with their own to entertain you. Well, you knew why, and it started and ended with a giant birdman by the name of Hawks. He had gifted you with a generous sum of money to buy yourself a nice outfit for prom after you had casually brought up in conversation that you were trying to save money for it. He refused to take it back, so you really didn’t have a choice but to use it. You ended up buying a gorgeous outfit that really complimented your wings. In the words of Hawks, you looked like an “ethereal angel”.

After buying the outfit and looking forward to the event for weeks, you couldn’t not go. Not without disappointing yourself, and probably Hawks too. He was always the one telling you that you needed to live life to the fullest and enjoy your experience at UA, while it lasted.

What you weren’t expecting was to feel so down and dejected, lingering by the punch table as you wistfully observed everyone else having fun like a lonely wallflower. You wanted to take Hawk’s advice and try to enjoy the moment anyway, but you found it too awkward to go out onto the dance floor without someone to dance with, and you weren’t too keen on asking someone you weren’t well-acquainted with to dance.

Still, you stole a glance at the other wallflowers in the corner, almost considering the idea.

You didn’t have a chance to, though, because you were distracted by the gasps and squeals of people all across the room. Following their eyes, you found the target of their attention to be a familiar red-winged man, in an unfamiliar looking outfit. An expensive-looking suit with a boutonniere pinned to the left lapel of his suit jacket. He flashed a charming smile and gave everyone a quick wave as his eyes scanned the room, finally landing on you.

You stared in shock as he walked over to you.

“Why, hello there, angel. Fancy meeting you here,” he said, smirking at your shocked expression.

“Hawks! What are you doing here?” you asked him with wide eyes.

He shrugged. “You know the saying, ‘birds of a feather flock together’? I heard my little chickadee was in need of a prom date, so naturally, I flew right over.”

You were aware of everyone’s eyes on you—something you had grown pretty used to after being with Hawks in public a good handful of times—but you were far too surprised to care as you looked him up and down.

“Your outfit. The colors match mine…”

“Of course they do. What kind of prom date do you think I am? I think what you mean to say is, I look handsome, right?” he teased.

You giggled at this. He always found a way to get you laughing with his witty remarks.

Nodding, you smiled up at him. “You do. Thank you for coming. You really didn’t have to do this.”

He gave you a small eye roll. “I wouldn’t be here unless I wanted to. And you deserve a proper prom experience. That said…”

Your eyes grew wide as he pulled out a beautiful corsage from behind his back. The flowers matched your outfit and his boutonniere perfectly.

"Hawks..." You couldn’t help the tears that began to build in your eyes.

"Oh, don't cry, angel! Your eyes will get all red and puffy! That's no good for prom pictures!" he said, brow scrunched in concern as he looked at you, partially wondering if he’d done something wrong, until you spoke.

"Sorry, it's just...nobody has ever done anything like this for me before. I was really thinking I'd be ending tonight on a bad note, until you showed,” you confessed, carefully wiping the underside of your eyes.

Keigo offered you a sympathetic smile as he stepped forward, holding out his hand, palm up. You held your left hand out to him and watched as he slipped the corsage onto your wrist.

"Well, let's make the most out of the time we have left. I know I kinda arrived last minute, but I also managed to make some arrangements for us that I think you’ll enjoy,” he said.

You looked at him, curious and confused. “What do you mean? Are we leaving?”

“Nope! We’re staying right here! Just us, the photographer, and the DJ,” he smiled, turning to look at the room, which was now completely empty, save for the two people he had mentioned.

How had you missed that?

“H-How?” was all that you could get out, as you looked around the room.

“The dance is technically over now, so I just extended our time a bit. Made a couple calls on my way here, bribed a few people, and here we are!” he explained, cheerfully.

You tried not to let your emotions get the better of you as you looked at him in astonishment.

“Hawks…I don’t even know what to say.”

He chuckled. “Well, I hope you’ll know what to say in response to my next question. There is only one right answer, so that narrows things down for ya’.”

You looked at him curiously, feeling a small pang of nervousness in your stomach as you awaited his question.

He bent forward into a bow, his eyes remaining locked with yours as he extended his right hand to you, his lips curved into a playful smile.

“May I have this dance?”

All nervousness instantly vanished and was replaced by pure giddiness as a bright smile overtook your face.

“Yes, you may,” you said, giggling as you placed your left hand in his.

He led you out to the middle of the dance floor and gave a nod to the DJ, who began playing a slow song through the surrounding speakers.

Turning to face you, Keigo gently grasped your right hand with his left, holding it near his chest. You smiled a bit sheepishly as you placed your free hand on his left bicep, just as he placed his right hand onto your middle back.

The two of you began to sway to the music. After a moment, you felt more at ease, finding that you seemed to move more naturally with each slow beat of the music.

You smiled at him. “I can’t thank you enough for doing all of this for me.”

Keigo earnestly returned your expression. “This is the least I can do for my special, feathered friend. I’m only sorry I couldn’t make it sooner.”

You scoffed. “Please. This is more than enough.”

“I’m glad you’re happy, angel.”

“I really am. Best prom ever,” you beamed at him.

Your contagious smile elicited a happy chuckle from him as he spun you around, being careful of your wings as he did so.

He pulled you back towards him and the two of you continued to dance together, laughing when you bumped him with your wings or when he accidentally stepped on your foot a little. You couldn’t have been happier, nor more grateful. Not only did you get the most perfect prom experience, but you got to spend it with your favorite red-feathered friend.

Like true birds of a feather, you knew you’d be flying together for a long time to come.

‣ If you enjoyed this fic, please like, comment, and/or reblog! Doing so not only keeps my blog alive, but also lets me know what you like and how to improve!

‣ Have an idea for a fic you’d like me to write? Send me a request here. But first, make sure to read my Request Info!

‣ If you’d like to join the taglist for Keigo Takami/Hawks, or be tagged in all of my future MHA writings, let me know by sending me an ask/message, or comment on this post!

‣ Taglist: @jslittlebirdie @xkatsukizukux @itsjudymoody @fandomenbylover

[elaina-writes-things]

Hi I have a lucifer 18+request if you’re still on the high. You can make it a dable or headcanons. Whatever you’re most comfortable with.

You’re sitting on the couch reading a 🌶️ book and Lucifer crawls between your legs and tells you to keer reading as he eats you out.

I was gonna take it seriously, I swear. But I just really think Lucifer would act like this, and now here we are.

The content below is NSFW/18+ !!!

--

You loved to read when you were alive. Every home you lived in always had at least one, large bookshelf dedicated to your collection, and that didn't change after your death. You were thankful that, even eternally damned, there were simple pleasures to indulge in, and everyone who knew you could bet on finding you with your nose in a book if they needed your attention.

That was how Lucifer met you. It was also how he found you, waiting outside a restaurant for your first date. And how he found you the morning after you spent your first night together. And...well, you get it.

"If I didn't know any better," the seraphim complained, crawling into bed to settle next to you for the evening, "I'd say you liked spending more time with your books than little old me."

You slipped a bookmark between the pages of your current piece of literature, resting it in your lap, and gave him a sheepish smile.

"I adore you," you promised him, "I just love how wonderful these books are, too. Every turn of the page sweeps me away to an adventure of the mind. I can place myself in the protagonist's shoes from the comfort of my home! I can almost feel every struggle they endure. Every fight, every triumph, every kiss, every —"

"Kiss?" Lucifer perked up, and before you got the chance to respond, he'd snatched up your book and was flicking through the pages. "Ohohoo, my dearest, why didn't you tell me you were reading such salacious things? If you're looking to experience pleasure, by all means, you just need to ask."

Suddenly, the book was thrust back into your hands, and you stiffened as the blonde straddled you.

"Uh, what are you doing?" You asked, cheeks burning.

"Read to me, dove," Lucifer grinned, eyes alight the same way they did when he came up with a new duck-based innovation. "You want to live vicariously through your books? I can give that to you. So, read."

You glanced at the page Lucifer had flipped to and felt like you were going to catch fire. He'd chosen a scene in which the heroine of the book had stolen away with her appointed knight for an evening of passion before she was forced to marry the prince from a rival kingdom.

"Oh, I don't know," you muttered, "this is really — ah!"

Lucifer was still wearing that smarmy little grin as he pulled on your hips, dragging your body towards his, and started undoing the buttons on your pants. Cheeky fucker didn't even have to look, he was just popping them open with a flick of his fingers.

"Go on," he encouraged, settling himself comfortably between your legs after he pulled the fabric down. "Don't tell me you're getting stage fright? Show me what kinds of stories you indulge in so voraciously, darling."

You hid your face between the pages of your book, which only forced you to stare at the words he demanded you recite. When you tried to squirm away from him, only to have two deceptively powerful hands press you firmly to the mattress, you knew there was no getting out of this.

"Finally," the princess sighed, "alone at last, my dear. I am all yours tonight."

"Tonight. This night," said the knight, "but it could be every night...run away with me, princess."

"I want nothing more, beloved," she proclaimed, "but I have responsibilities to my kingdom. This marriage will forge an alliance that will help us for future generations."

The knight's face twisted in pain for only a moment, before it morphed into a calmness as cold as his armor.

"Then tonight, on this night, I'll make it one that you'll never forget."

"How many times can they fit the word 'night' into one chapter," Lucifer muttered, placing a small kiss on your knee. "Skip ahead a couple paragraphs. Get us to the fun part, my dove."

You resisted the urge to close your legs, knowing it would be a fruitless effort with how hungry his majesty looked, and flipped to the next page.

Princess Calliope carefully gathered up her skirts, the soft fabric brushing against her even softer legs. Xander, her knight, knelt in front of her and trailed one gauntlet gently up her calf —

"With his armor on!? There's no way that would feel good for her."

"I mean, he's gonna take it off eventually."

"Skip another couple paragraphs."

The princess shivered under Xander's touch. His large, broad hands squeezing her thighs pulled a gasp from delicately parted lips, and she had to fight not to cover herself as she lay bare to him.

"There are many ways to prepare your body for mine, princess," Xander murmured, "but this one is my favorite."

He lowered his head and placed a series of kisses on each of her thighs, trailing closer and closer to her hot core.

Calliope whimpered when her faithful knight's lips reached her flower. He kissed each side reverently, then used his tongue to part the p-petals, licking a firm st-stripe up the length...o-of...

Your reading stuttered when Lucifer's actions began to mimic Xander's. Now that his commentary wasn't cutting in every thirty seconds, the written experience being actively performed on you was much more erotic than you anticipated, and you reminded yourself to thank him for that little idea later.

"Keep reading," the blonde requested. You bit your lip and tried to ignore his warm breaths on your pussy. The words on the page were suddenly much harder to read.

He kissed each side reverently, then used his tongue to part the petals, licking a firm stripe up the length of her sex until he reached the little, pink bud at the top. Xander kissed it, d-delighting in the squeal he pulled from his beloved, then wrapped his lips around it and sucked g-g-gently while his fing-fingers circled her entrance.

Calliope felt like she was on fire. Her body responded to Xander's in a way she'd never known until tonight. It's like she was a violin, and he was the musician plucking every single one of her strings.

"Why is he plucking violin strings? Is he stupid?"

You groaned, now thoroughly turned on but annoyed by your partner's continuous interruptions.

"I'm just saying that's not how you play a —"

"Do you wanna eat me out like the bitch in the book or not!?"

The short king's red eyes widened, then his expression became unbearably smug. You resisted the urge to toss a pillow at his head.

"Look at you, playing hard to get at the beginning and now practically begging me to get lost between your thighs. I knew this would be fun for you. Maybe if you beg a little more, I'll —"

Pillows were too soft. You threw the book at him instead, relishing in his cry and the thunk that emanated from the collision.

"Next time you wanna do something fun, Luci," you said, getting up and kissing the blooming injury on his forehead, "don't criticize it start to finish."

"I'd argue there wasn't a finish," he pouted, wrapping his arms around you for a snuggle before you could pull away.

"Who's fault is that?"

"I'll make it up to you," Lucifer promised. "Anything you want, you name it."

That piqued your interest, a smug little grin of your own starting to form.

"Anything?"

He nodded excitedly. "Tell me what I can do for you, love. How will I make your dreams come true?"

"You."

"Me?" He echoed.

"And me."

"And you. Me and you," he chirped, practically bouncing as he hugged you tighter.

"And the biggest strap we can find."

What little color existed on his face drained away. Lucifer stared at you, eyes wide and round, then buried his head defeatedly in your shoulder. His blonde hair tickled your jaw, and you placed a gentle kiss to his temple.

"I did promise anything," he mumbled.

[milehighmegs]

On the Subject of Fandoms: A Love Letter

So, I'm old. Well, oldER. I haven't entered the twilight of my years by any stretch, but once I entered that midlife wistful state of nostalgia, I knew that I had very likely reached the point at which it would be more past than future. And ya know, that's ok. I made peace with my mortality long ago. I don't fear death, I fear not living before I die.

So what's that got to do with fandoms? you may be asking. Fair enough. Here's what it's got to do with fandoms:

Before it was even a term, before I could do multiplication or write my name in cursive (I told you I'm old), I was part of a fandom and didn't even know it. My parents watched 'Star Trek: The Next Generation' when it was still on primetime; we even recorded the final episode on VHS and had it for years. (I told you, I'M OLD.) It was so incredibly formative for me that it's become part of my identity, part of my moral & ethical code, part of my personality. Is that ridiculous? Dramatic? Maybe even a bit of hubris? Perhaps. But it's true, nonetheless.

I've since joined other fandoms, of movie franchises (namely the MCU), TV shows (like Good Omens), and musicians (I'm a die-hard metalhead) over the course of my life, each of them creating/inhabiting a different part of what makes me ME. Though I've always remained the same basic person at my core (a decent one at least if not a good one, I hope), being a part of these fandoms has shaped the foundations of how I live my life, and how I've LIVED my life.

Being on the proverbial back nine of my earthly existence, looking back at what's come before, at how far I've come and all the things I've fucked up or gotten right, questioned, accepted, regretted, cherished... so much of that is filled with moments like, 'what would Captain Picard do? How would the Avengers handle this? Which Slipknot song would be most comforting right now?' With the explosion of semi-social media sites (like tumblr here, and its gateway drug, Pinterest), I've been able to dive even deeper into the fandom. The fic, the art, the theories & analyses... it turns my appreciation for all these things I love to 11. But it wouldn't be possible without the most critical element: the fans.

Because people have such a love for, and identify so strongly with the stories & characters of their respective fandoms, they go deep into hidden meanings, major themes, & what they imagine these stories would be like if they were able to direct the action. More than anything, what I love about fanfic/fanart is that while yes, we're creating what we want for the characters, it's more a reflection of what we want for ourselves, both in the same situation as the characters and in life in general. For example, I see SO MUCH art/fic of Crowley & Aziraphale being open & free in showing their love for each other. I see so many stories of them making up and living happily ever after. The art ranges from sweet & adorable to... ah... adult-themed, but the vast majority of the latter is passionate, tender, & clearly loving; rarely is it straight-up raunchy. Smutty? Totally. Raunchy? Not so much. And why? Because we know these two are IN LURVE, not just in lust. And we want what they (clearly) have, even if they can't admit it to one another. We, the fans, can live vicariously through these characters and these worlds, and there we can find what we're looking for.

I've had a rollercoaster of a life, emotionally speaking, especially in matters of romantic love, and much of that hasn't been pleasant. I've done so much soul-searching, shadow work, self-care and all that whathaveyou, but none of it- NONE of it- has come anywhere near to being as insightful as the fan-based art & analyses of the relationship between Crowley & Zira. I have spent the vast majority of the last week thinking about it, writing about it, going over & over how it applies to my life & experiences, and I gotta say... none of it would be possible without the remarkable Good Omens fandom. So seriously, thank you. THANK YOU. You've helped to make me a better person. You've helped to make me look back on my life, smile, and turn around... to look forward to what comes next.

Keep up the incredible work, creators. You never know whose life you could be saving.