#but like. if this IS you. here's your polite reminder.

[writingmeraki]

unsaid, unkept, ugly emotions [ i ]

⤷ ( f1 scenarios ! )

❝ in which, the uglier side of feeling too much getting more messier than it already is for both parties involved.

(or in which for different reasons, it just seems you aren't meant to be.)

feat. charles leclerc, carlos sainz, lando norris, oscar piastri. genre : angst, no comfort. ( for now ) warnings : cussing, messy, contemplation, arguments, miserable people, miscommunication, everyone gets hurt, a lot of unspoken feelings, like emphasis on that you may get annoyed.

pt 2 will include max, daniel, lewis and george !

[ w.c : 3.1k ]

CHARLES LECLERC.

He was off limits.

From the moment you knew your best friend, Alisa, had a crush on him, he was not supposed to ever be in your radar of romantic boundaries as per the rules of being a best friend. 

Seeing her going crazy for a boy like him at first really made you question if there was something wrong with you because you just couldn’t quite see it.

Sure he quite literally looked like a prince and had a very fitting accent.

Sure he had adorable dimples that made him look less intimidating than you thought he initially was.

Eyes so green you think you could spot an entire forest in them and they twinkled ever so brightly when the sun hit them.

Sure he was also the frat president as well as the captain of the soccer team making you wonder how he was able to still balance getting great grades.

Well. There was a slight possibility you could see what others saw. 

Maybe even more when the time you tried to play wingman for Alisa at a party where you lost her because apparently she was looking for him but said guy turned up right beside you as you were contemplating on what would least likely not kill your liver if you had it resulting in having conversations about cars ( you don’t even know ) and him trying to convince (gaslight) you into Formula One being one of the greatest sports of all time. 

You didn’t get convinced but for the time it felt right to agree to what he said if it meant those adorable dimples would show up when you did. 

You were so screwed. 

Another thing Charles Leclerc had was a great memory, because he seemed to remember you when he saw you walking down the hallway with Alisa as he smiled so widely at you in greeting. 

“Haha yeah hey! um…This is Alisa by the way! Alisa, Charles.” You had to nudge her to snap out of her daze and she extended her hand in greeting as he politely shook her hand. 

“That reminds me, I forgot to ask you last night but uh can I have your-”

“Oh would you look at that! We’re getting late for class! I’m so sorry Charles, we’ll have to leave!” 

That moment you think you were so going to hell when you saw how quickly his smile fell and how his sparkly eyes dimmed down because it felt like you committed a sin then and there. You think you saved yourself from committing a sin but it didn’t feel less dreadful as you grabbed her hand and rushed as quickly as you could.

In the opposite direction of where your class was.

“WHAT WAS THAT-”

“Listen- when you were looking for him last night- I swear I don’t know how but he was right where I ended up sitting and he-well, we talked I suppose-?”

Her eyes widened at your words and you raised your hands in surrender, 

“I promise I didn’t even know when he showed up, I tried to message you and even find you but you seemed gone until the moment we were leaving.”

“Plus the reason I didn’t tell you last night was I was tired! I was here trying to play wingman while the person in love was seemingly gone-”

She sighed and nodded at you, “You don’t have to explain, I know he’s not your type, you made that clear a lot of times actually it’s kinda hilarious.” She giggled as she recalled the countless times you chastised her for daydreaming about him. But now, you couldn’t stop the stupid tinge of bitterness in your heart.

Right. Not my type. 

Suddenly her eyes widened as an idea struck her, “That’s it! He was gonna ask for your number right? You can try and set me up then!”

“I well- I don’t know-”

“Please! You know how I have been trying to get to know him even.”

You didn’t want to say it then but you thought about how trying meant actually doing something rather than just gazing from afar. At least become friends with him was the words you told her countless times but she paid no heed, retorting how it was not that easy.

But it was easy because what’s the worst that could happen? Him having a partner? So it wasn’t the end of the world, others existed! 

Too bad you were easy to persuade, questionably easy because all it took were her doe eyes pleading at you to agree.

“Fine- I’ll try- but no promises.”

As she hugged you and squealed words of gratefulness to you, you couldn’t quite put a finger on it then but, 

You didn’t understand why it felt a part of you couldn’t seem to share the same happiness, conceivably a lingering dread there that knew something was surely going to go wrong.

CARLOS SAINZ.

Everytime Carlos Sainz had the ever so unfortunate ( according to him ) time to exist in the same room as you, it seemed like an impending doom for him. 

His heart felt weird, his stomach dropped, his throat parched.

He hated it. 

He was an individual who knew what they wanted in life. Never unsure nor second guessing, always able to classify their emotions in proper ways. Systematic is the right word. Able to know what exactly he wants to do in his career, how to behave with his friends, when to be serious and when to have ‘fun’. 

So what happens when you completely throw him off the rocks with your mere existence?

He hates you. That’s how he tags the emotions he feels when he sees you and what does hatred sprout? Indifference. 

Too many questions asked but it’s what Carlos declares. 

Though, he thinks the first mistake is to think he’d be able to avoid you considering the fact that you were his best friend/roommate’s good friend. Meaning you spent around twenty to twenty two hours at their place (Yes he counted) and he absolutely hated it.

He hated how your giggles would ring out in the entire apartment when Charles said a half-assed joke, it literally made his chest feel uneasy. He hated how your eyes would always twinkle when you would be talking to Charles, it made his stomach drop and sigh in disbelief. 

Was Charles that oblivious to how much you liked him?

Now this was a question that made Carlos almost throw up. Odd.

“You know if you don’t make a move, he won’t even know right? I know you think he’s one of the smartest but in the romance field, I think even fucking Max beats him at that!”

Or perhaps Carlos was just very oblivious to how much you liked him. 

You shook your head at Charles’ words as you both walked up to his apartment, the butterflies in your stomach already churning at the thought that Carlos was likely home. 

“And also it’s getting concerning how much time you spend in my apartment for the sake of him, like at this point just move in you creep—HEY!Ow!— that hurt you ass!”

“It’s not that easy,he’s – he’s Carlos–for God’s sake!”

“That’s exactly why it’s easy! It’s Carlos! Be direct with him. I’ve known him for years and trust me, he won’t know until you spit it out to him!”

Maybe…maybe he was right. Afterall he had been friends with Carlos before even knowing you.

“What if he doesn’t even feel the same–”

“Be serious. He literally looks like a lovesick fool when you’re over–”

“Maybe he’s just sick of me coming over.”

Charles stopped walking and you didn’t even realize until you were a few steps ahead. Pausing when you finally saw he wasn’t beside you.

His expression was like he was close to ripping out his hair from frustration while also being flabbergasted. It was kinda hilarious and you had to gulp to prevent laughing because you were sure he might just kill you.

“Okay! Okay, fine– I'll listen to you– maybe not confess today! But I'll ask if we can hangout or something,happy?”

“Very.” 

You rolled your eyes at his words as you both began climbing up the stairs, telling him to shush with his teasing as the tips of your ears began to feel warm and the blood rushed to your cheeks with every scenario you imagined.

Maybe if you thought that the upcoming scenario would ever occur. it would have hurt less. 

As you waited for him to pull out his keys, you could feel your nerves igniting through your skin and your stomach churning. But before he could insert the key, the door opened.

You wouldn’t have questioned anything, if it weren’t for the obvious messy hair, hickey marks trailing down her exposed neck and of course, the star of your daydreams right behind her, standing with a surprised face.

It was obvious what had occurred, the confirmation lying in the bruises on his neck. 

“Woah–uh.” Charles stuttered awkwardly, and you could feel his sympathy as he glanced at you. You couldn’t think of anything else other than how…right you were and how wrong Charles was.

You didn’t know who she was but it wasn’t her fault. Or anyone’s. Maybe yours. So as a weird tension simmered through the air, you looked away from them and just turned to Charles.

And for the first time in his life probably, he was lost. Carlos Sainz was lost because why did he just feel like he committed a crime when he wasn’t even yours anyways?

He hated the way you looked away, not missing the hurt that flashed across your eyes as you realized what he probably was doing. 

You didn’t even notice she’d already left, smiling at Carlos and signing him to call her back, again. Probably not the first time, you thought.

“Uh- I’ll go now, It’s getting late for me anyways,”

You really tried to stop your voice from cracking, the lump in your throat making you want to choke and die then and there. So you just looked at Charles, purposefully ignoring the way he looked at you in sympathy. 

His stare seemed to burn into your side profile. The words on the tip of his tongue, but what? It all felt like a lot but nothing at the same time. Carlos didn’t know what to say. 

Nodding goodbye to Charles and glancing at Carlos, offering a tight lipped smile as you waved, and then without saying anything you turned around. 

Charles frowned. His best friend couldn’t own up to his feelings for you and just when you were about to take a step forward, he somehow ended up fucking it up completely. 

What a mess. 

“Come on, we need to talk.”

Charles said seriously, putting an arm over Carlos’ shoulders, albeit a little forcefully which caused the other boy to almost stumble over. 

It seemed it was now up to him now to sort out this mess and hopefully it doesn’t get worse from here

LANDO NORRIS.

Lando and you were fire and water. Milk and lemons. Politicians and caring for the country’s people- Okay too far perhaps and enough of these metaphors of incompatibility to get a point.

You were sworn enemies. Despised each other in the true forms of hate. You hated him so much for the emotions he rose in you that you couldn’t stand him ruining another poor innocent soul with his devious eyes and cunning smile.

Which was exactly what he was doing with the girl wrapped around his left arm, additionally whispering probably lame jokes that made her giggle as though they were the funniest thing on earth.

Lana Carter was her name, you knew her as a cheerleader due to seeing her during your games and also being somewhat acquainted because as a captain, it was apparently in your duty to know everyone, especially those involved in the sports sector of your university.

You wish you could cross off knowing Lando but alas, him being the captain of the basketball team and the apparent star as well didn’t help in your case. 

“I smell something burning and oh! Would you look at that! It’s an ugly green color too!” Alexa said as she smirked at you, pretending to take a sip of her drink when you directed your glare at her. 

“Fuck. You.” 

“You wish-”

“Oh! Hey cap!” A voice said before you could retort to Alexa you turned to see Oscar smiling at you in greeting. You knew him, of course you knew all of Lando’s little friend group. You frowned at him eyeing him in suspicion. He was Lando’s best friend after all.

“Why the frown?” Alexa snorted as he asked you,his attention going to your best friend before she pointed at him and it was as if he understood and nodded.

“Ohhh, I see what’s the matter now.”

“Someone’s” Coughing very fakely, he added, “Jealous.”

Shutting your eyes, you looked at him with a glare enough to make him shut up on his own but still you added,

“Say that again and I’ll-”

“Already giving death threats huh? Maybe you should really go check up on that stick up your ass.” Of fucking course, now is when he decided to show up.

As though his eyes had not been searching for you the moment he stepped in the party. As though he hadn’t noticed you the moment you did. As though it wasn’t just an elaborate plan to rile you up.

You looked at him and fuck. Fuck he made you so angry with how fucking good he looked despite the conditions of the party. His messy hair and bright eyes being lit up by the colourful lights and even though the lighting was horrible, he somehow looked…so fine and of course the darn smirk on his face. 

“Norris. How nice of you to show up! Just the person I was waiting for!” Your sarcasm could be sensed by those around, Alexa’s attempt at hiding her snort and Oscar’s brows raised not going unnoticed. They looked at each other briefly and a knowing look was exchanged.

Here we go again.

“Aw you were waiting for me darling? Hope I wasn’t too late, just got a little busy you see?”

“Clearly.” You said before thinking, the scowl on your face was visible and the smugness on his face only grew larger.

“Not fond of me with someone else?” You didn’t even notice how both Oscar and Alexa had left, seemingly only Lando and you, in the midst of drunk teenagers and perhaps lovesick ones, perhaps loners. 

He got closer, closer that made you clench your hands that hung on your sides, leaning down.

“Not fond of me with anyone but you?”

It was as though his voice put you in a trance, or maybe it was how his warm breath tickled your neck. And for the first time in a while you thought of what he said, deeper than you would have ever.

You weren’t sure if you liked the answer. Or what it exactly implied too.

“Stay in your limits Norris. Don’t fucking- don’t play this shit with me.” You pushed him away as harshly as you could, even if it felt like your hands burned when you thought of what you did. Purposefully ignoring the look in his eyes. Visible hurt and a frown on his face, you turned around, having enough.

“Don’t come after me. Stay with Lana or whoever, I don’t fucking care.” You don’t know why you said the last sentence. You also don’t want to know why it felt bitter saying it.

With that, you began to walk out, gulping the fresh air that was much needed after being in that suffocating place, suffocating feelings.

As you shut your eyes, you gulped thinking of what you were doing. Why were you so pissed off? 

And maybe you realized, you needed to check on the line that was drawn between Lando and you. Perhaps it’s become too blurry to distinguish it from hatred and love.

OSCAR PIASTRI.

Oscar glowed like the moon solely rose up to soak in his light, like the stars twinkled off his radiance.

Maybe,you just got too close to the sun, enchanted with its brightness, to not realize just how much it could burn you.

He was your sun.

No actually the sun, stars, moon whatever celestial body existed perhaps dimmed down compared to him. 

You think it messed you up completely when you kissed him in that truth or dare game surrounded by your mutual friends. You think about the stolen kisses, never more, just kisses in between the times you’d pass by in the hallways, pulling him in a cramped space and leaving with flushed cheeks and swollen lips. 

Simply put, you were addicted to him. To the way he made you feel. To the way he made you tingle when he kissed you so gently. 

You didn’t want to address the elephant in the room. Or in this case, 

What were you two?

Lando asked when you were sitting down in the same circle, just like the first time you’d kissed each other, with the same people. 

You hesitated and then said, uncharacteristically enthusiasm lacing your voice,

“Friends of course! Don't be ridiculous Lan.”

You didn’t like that word, and it seemed he didn’t either as he looked away, gulping in distaste and a scoff on his face that was usually unnatural for the sunshine like a boy.

Seemingly going unnoticed by you but Lando who asked the question noticed and glanced back at you to see if you noticed. He sighed when he saw you not looking at Oscar but raised an eyebrow as he saw you in a dilemma. 

Right. Friends. Friends who kiss. But still friends…friends?

You tried convincing yourself the rest of that day that adding a label would ruin things. It always does. You should enjoy it while you can, right? It was all in fun?

So why did you feel terribly down when Oscar refused to talk to you for the rest of the day?

“Os?” You asked gently and he sighed exhaustingly as he looked at you,

“Please, please don’t…don’t call me that.”

The look of hurt on your face made him hate himself more because why would anyone like to hurt someone they loved?

Before you opened your mouth to speak, he continued,

“I don't think I can do this anymore, this…whatever this is. I am…sorry.”

And without a chance to ask more questions or give any answers, he turned around and walked away.

This was your fault. You hurt him because you couldn’t admit it to yourself that you…that you loved him. 

You loved him more than the universe, you loved him since the day you saw him. You were just scared you'll lose him like the way you lose all your loved ones. You were scared of risks. You were…a coward.

And now it seemed, it was too late to do anything about it.

a/n : if you have read this before somewhere, it's my own work of svt ( 1 and 2 ) which i have re-written to fit these boys <3 i just thought they would also fit them too and well...let me know what you think ^^

the rest will be uploaded too because i think i will be writing a new one for the others as i don't know if they would fit into the written ones :") pls let me know what you thought of this!!! ( also i cannot make oscar evil or the heartbreaker i just cantt </3 and i know the irony of charles being a soccer captain and well how he plays lmfaoo i just let it be for shits and giggles <3)

i am opening reqs for f1 and taglist for this so let me know if you want to be added cause I do have a lot more planned !

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024

feedback is always appreciated 💌 ! links : main navi ! | f1 masterlist ! | info !

[stanpinesdykewife]

ME AGAIN hi hi nothing extravagant as i don’t want to overwhelm you, but i’ve been rereading your works again and i’m just DYING to know your personal headcanons for stan, either sfw, nsfw or both!!! thank you for your work you’re amazing 💗💗💗 - 🎀

THIS I’VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS… thank you so much for this ask what a super fun idea!!!! here goes!!!

under the cut: sfw and nsfw stan headcanons… as your boyfriend!! (i’m blushing) (no gendered pronouns used)

fic rec at the bottom :)

sfw:

big on chivalry! says he was raised “right” and he’s a “gentleman” etc. holds open doors for you and offers his arm instead of holding hands. also really big on flowers or other gifts

pointedly uses the word “date” instead of just inviting you out: “great! it’s a date!” vs “let’s go out tonight” (yes he thinks there’s a difference)

can’t keep his hands off you! always needs to be touching your waist, your back, your wrist, or at least standing close enough to know you’re right next to him

cheesy flirt!! loves the yawn and stretch to put his arm over you. constantly uses his bank of pick-up lines on you: “did it hurt?... when you fell from heaven?” and “you got a map? cuz i just got lost in your eyes!” probably studied a book of them in high school

that being said stan gets so easily flustered it’s hilarious HAHAHA the second you flirt back or even give him a smile and a Look up and down he’s sweating

never admits that he gets flustered because he’s used to the idea of being a Big Macho Man. but he knows you know that he knows how easily you can make him melt

enjoys you playing with his face like feeling up his jaw and cheeks and nose and mouth. it makes him feel pretty!

loves holding you in his lap… will refuse to admit his legs are numb in favor of hugging you around your waist and nuzzling the back of your head

loves loves loves teasing you! like grabbing things out of your hands and holding them high up, grabbing your waist and holding you hostage when you try to stand or leave the room, constantly asking “what’s in it for me?” whenever you ask him to cut it out or do something simple like pass your phone. but stan will never ever say no to a kiss

nsfw:

obvious in all my fics but stan cannot shut up. he loves to talk during sex and loves to make you talk back: begging for him, asking “politely” for him to touch you, telling him how good you feel

MAJOR praise kink. huge. the reason he’s so chatty during sex is to make sure you want the things he wants. he craves the validation that he makes you feel good. LOVES to hear you moan and make noise for him

BIG SERVICE GUY!!! loves going down on you. literally moans into you because he loves the taste and how good it feels for you. probably came in his pants once or twice just from palming himself during it

loves to overstimulate you. always reminds you to literally shove his head away if it’s too much because he gets so lost in how loud you get

he’s kind of gross lol he’ll wipe his sex hands all up on his clothes or sheets and not bother washing his hands unless you tell him to

BIG kisser. lots of tongue. he doesn’t have much experience kissing so he’s really sloppy with it especially during sex when he’s trying to kiss you and fuck you at the same time

tits guy! doesn’t even matter whether you have tits or not. he loves them and loves nipples in his mouth especially when you arch your chest up to him

loves coming inside

he’s so gross! if he doesn’t come in you he’ll come ON you and smear it into your skin. the messier the better

aftercare is so important to him after meeting you… he doesn’t have much experience with it himself but he adores you and can’t help himself from snuggling up even if you’re complaining about how gross the sheets are

inspo from Must See: Mystery Shack by guilty_pleasures_abound but he definitely gets generous after a good fuck. will run out to get you water or snacks or just some wipes to get you cleaned up!!

all done! this was so fun! would love more hc requests whether it be for more stan-centric ones or other characters/scenarios!!

[solxamber]

Royal Scandal- Ruggie Bucchi x reader

You're being forced to marry someone to take the throne you've fought your entire life for. Okay, if that's how it is, you'll make sure to choose the one person here that your dearest parents will disapprove of the most.

I really like how this one turned out!

The ballroom was resplendent, filled with swirling silks, dazzling jewels, and a sea of royals from every corner of the world. It was your nightmare, distilled into one room. You stood at the head of the grand staircase, glaring down at the crowd, feeling utterly betrayed by your parents.

You—the crown heir, a skilled warrior, a tactical genius, and the pride of your kingdom—reduced to nothing more than a prize in a political matchmaking game. It was an insult.

“Really?” you muttered to yourself, grip tightening on the bannister. “They think they can push me into marriage to take the throne? They’ll regret this.”

From across the room, the usual parade of suitors hovered about, each one vying for a moment of your attention. They were all here to win your hand, though it was clear many of them weren’t here for you. The throne, the kingdom, the alliances—it was all just a game of power to them.

And then there was him. The only non-royal standing awkwardly by the hors d'oeuvres table. Ruggie Bucchi.

Ruggie was here because of Leona, and Leona was here because Falena had pawned off the responsibility of attending this ridiculous event onto his younger brother. But as usual, Leona wasn’t particularly interested in mingling with anyone. He had quickly made his way to the most comfortable couch in the room, leaving his attendant Ruggie to do all the heavy lifting—literally. Ruggie was managing Leona’s food, drinks, and handling the other guests with a sharp smile that concealed just how little he wanted to be here.

Leona had been an unexpected ally ever since your diplomatic trip to the Savannah, where your banter had somehow sparked an unlikely friendship. Leona, for all his royal airs, had grown fond of teasing you relentlessly, and the two of you exchanged jabs every chance you got.

You've met Ruggie before, during the visit. You knew of his circumstances and a wonderful plan was brewing inside you at this moment.

Ruggie wasn’t a suitor. He wasn’t even remotely interested in this ball. And yet…

A grin began to spread across your face.

Oh, this could work.

The next morning, the grand hall was packed with suitors, ministers, and your parents, all eagerly awaiting your declaration. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a sword.

“Today,” your father began with his booming voice, “our heir will announce their chosen partner. We know that this decision will aid in the prosperity of our kingdom.”

Your mother nodded, casting you a pointed look, as if to remind you of the importance of this moment. Oh, if only she knew what was coming.

You stepped forward, scanning the room with a serene smile. Your heart raced with excitement as you looked past all the anxious, hopeful suitors. Finally, your gaze landed on Ruggie, who stood in the corner, shoving the last of a sandwich into his mouth. He caught your eye, freezing mid-chew.

You raised a hand, pointing directly at him. “I have chosen Ruggie Bucchi.”

There was a deafening beat of silence before your declaration actually registered.

Your parents’ smiles froze, the air in the room turning cold. The ministers paled, their gazes snapping toward Ruggie, who was standing in the back, his next sandwich halfway to his mouth. He blinked, looking over his shoulder like you couldn’t possibly mean him. Maybe there was a “Ruggie Bucchi” that he didn’t know about?

But the world stopped when it hit that yes, you did mean that Ruggie Bucchi—the hyena from the slums of the Sunset Savanna who had no royal blood, no land to offer, no armies. Just a cunning smile and a love for free food.

Leona, sitting lazily on the side, blinked at you before letting out a sudden burst of laughter, the sound echoing through the hall. His usual smirk widened into something truly wicked as he turned to your parents with a shrug. “Well, what did you expect? You did say they could choose anyone in the room, didn’t you?”

Your parents were speechless, their faces a mix of horror and disbelief. Your mother looked like she might faint, and your father sputtered, glancing between you and Ruggie, who still hadn’t moved from his spot at the back of the room. He slowly lowered the sandwich, looking very much like he was rethinking every life choice he had ever made.

Leona, never one to miss an opportunity for chaos, leaned back in his chair and grinned even wider. “It would be a shame if you went back on your word now. After all, it was very clear—whoever they chose, right? I’m sure the esteemed royals wouldn’t go back on a promise they made to their only heir in front of all these witnesses.”

Your father’s mouth opened and closed, his face rapidly turning a shade of purple as he tried to find words that wouldn’t cause a diplomatic disaster. Your mother’s eyes darted around the room, probably searching for an escape route. Meanwhile, the ministers exchanged horrified glances, clearly trying to figure out how to spin this in a way that wouldn’t end in utter embarrassment.

Leona, of course, wasn’t done yet. “You know,” he added, casually inspecting his nails, “a promise is a promise. And from where I’m sitting, it looks like Ruggie here’s your new royal consort.” His eyes sparkled with mirth, clearly loving every second of the madness you'd just incited. “After all, we wouldn’t want to insult the future ruler’s decision, right?”

You could practically see your parents’ souls leaving their bodies.

Ruggie, to his credit, finally stopped gaping like a fish and straightened up, wiping crumbs from his vest and putting on a cocky grin, like he had totally planned for this from the start. “Welp, looks like I’m movin’ up in the world,” he said, swaggering forward, though the slight wobble in his step gave away his shock. He shot Leona and you a glance that screamed, Why are you doing this to me? But Leona just gave him a lazy shrug in response, clearly enjoying the show. And you just grinned back at him.

Your mother finally found her voice, though it was shaky at best. “This… this can’t be—”

“Oh, but it can.” your voice cut through the hall, smooth as silk and twice as smug. “You said anyone. Don’t tell me you’re regretting those words now?”

Your father visibly swallowed, realizing the bind he was in. The ministers were sweating bullets, clearly hoping someone else would step in and stop this disaster, but no one dared to speak. After all, it would be political suicide to go against a future ruler’s decision in front of a room full of witnesses.

Ruggie had now reached the front, his grin widening as he gave a quick, exaggerated bow to you, looking for all the world like a cat that had just caught a very large mouse. “Guess I’m your guy now, huh?”

You flashed him a triumphant smile, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “Looks like it.”

Your father, still in a state of shock, muttered something about tradition, but it was too late. The damage was done. You had chosen Ruggie, and with Leona egging on the entire thing, there was no way they could take it back without creating an uproar.

Leona, still lounging like the king of chaos he was, gave you a little salute. “Congrats to the happy couple. Can’t wait to see the wedding.”

Your parents looked like they might faint. The suitors—well, some of them looked relieved to not be part of this train wreck, but others were trying very hard not to burst into outrage. Ruggie just stood there, now fully committed to the bit, his grin as wide as ever.

And so, with your parents begrudgingly forced to accept your choice, the announcement was made. You had successfully thrown the entire royal court into chaos, and judging by the look on your face, this was far from over.

As for Ruggie, well, he was already calculating how much food he could swindle from the wedding feast.

After the uproar finally died down, and the ministers and royals reluctantly dispersed—each with their own whispers and murmurs of the chaos that had just ensued—you managed to pull Ruggie aside, away from the prying eyes of the court. His expression was still a mix of disbelief and amusement, as though he couldn’t quite wrap his head around what had just happened.

“Well, that was something,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “I’ve had some wild gigs before, but to be the royal consort? That’s a new one.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his casual tone, even as the situation around you felt anything but. You led him into one of the side corridors, away from the grand hall, before stopping to face him. Ruggie crossed his arms, clearly curious about where this was going. “Alright, spill it. What’s the deal here?”

You took a deep breath, collecting your thoughts. “I know that whole declaration just now was insane, but I had to do something drastic.”

“Yeah, drastic is one way to put it,” he snickered, leaning against the wall, waiting for you to continue.

“I’m the only heir to the throne,” you began, the frustration in your voice evident. “I’ve trained my whole life for this. The swordsmanship, the diplomacy, the studies. I’ve done it all. But my parents—” you trailed off, your voice tight with anger, “—they won’t let me take the throne unless I get married. It’s ridiculous. I don’t need to get married to rule, but they refuse to see that.”

Ruggie tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly. “So, what? You picked me just to get them off your back?”

“Exactly.” You smiled, but it was more cunning than genuine. “They’re too stuck in their ways to listen to reason, so I decided to make them regret forcing me into this. That’s where you come in.”

His ears twitched in curiosity, though the grin on his face was as sharp as ever. “And what exactly do I get out of this?”

You took a step closer, lowering your voice to ensure no one overheard. “I need you to play along with this marriage for a year. Just a year. By that time, I’ll have stabilized the kingdom, taken the throne officially, and you’ll be free to leave. No strings attached.”

Ruggie’s eyes narrowed as he considered your words. “And what do I get in return?”

“The wealth you’ll get out of this will set you up for life. I’m talking more money than you’ll know what to do with. You’ll never have to worry about another odd job or scrape together food again. After this year, you can go back to the Sunset Savanna, and you’ll have enough to take care of yourself, your community, your grandmother—whoever. You’ll never have to work again.”

Ruggie raised a brow, a flicker of interest in his eyes. He was a practical guy, after all, and if there was one thing that motivated him, it was a good deal. “And all I have to do is pretend to be your royal husband for a year?”

“Yep,” you confirmed with a nod, crossing your arms. “Think of it as the best con of your life. We’ll fake the marriage, play the part for a year, and then when it’s over, you’re free to go with a fortune in your pocket.”

For a moment, Ruggie was silent, his sharp gaze studying you, likely weighing the pros and cons of this insane proposal. “So, you’re basically hiring me to be your fake spouse.”

“Exactly.”

A slow grin spread across his face. “You know, this is probably one of the most ridiculous offers I’ve ever gotten—and I’ve been offered some weird stuff before—but,” he shrugged, “money’s money. And if it means I get to live easy after this, then I’m in.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, relief washing over you. “So, we have a deal?”

Ruggie chuckled, extending his hand to you. “We have a deal. But don’t expect me to go easy on the royal kitchens while I’m here. I’m gonna milk this for all it’s worth.”

You smirked, shaking his hand. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Ruggie’s grin turned mischievous as he added, “And don’t worry. I’ll play the part of the perfect doting husband. We’ll give ‘em a show they’ll never forget.”

With the deal struck, you both walked back into the palace, the weight of the future ahead not lost on you. A fake marriage with Ruggie Bucchi—one year, just one year, and then you’d be free. What could possibly go wrong?

Except, somewhere deep inside, you had a feeling that the real challenge wasn’t in the act itself—it was in not falling for the witty, resourceful hyena at your side.

Your wedding was the most extravagant affair your kingdom had ever seen. You spared no expense, throwing the grandest celebration imaginable, just to rub it in a little more. Lavish decorations, exotic foods, and a royal procession that stretched for miles.

Ruggie, for his part, looked both delighted and completely out of place as he stood beside you during the ceremony. He leaned over at one point, whispering, “I’ve never been this well-dressed in my life. You sure we’re not overdoing it?”

You grinned, adjusting his ornate cape. “If we’re going to make them suffer, we might as well go all out.”

The priest, an elderly man with a tremble in his voice, stood before the two of you, his wrinkled hands holding the ceremonial scroll. His voice was deep, reverent, and filled with emotion—entirely too much emotion for the farce that was about to unfold.

You felt a little sorry for him, considering that he was the one who taught you the scriptures and history of your nation when you were younger, one of the only people to see you for you instead of the "heir". But you knew the next part was going to be hilarious.

“We gather here today,” the priest began, “to unite these two souls in the eternal bond of marriage.”

You dared a glance at your parents, sitting stiffly at the front row, their faces a mixture of horror and resignation. The ministers were whispering frantically among themselves, occasionally darting their eyes towards you and Ruggie as if hoping this was all a nightmare they’d soon wake up from. The absolute satisfaction you felt seeing them squirm almost made this whole ridiculous charade worth it.

But the best part? Leona. Sitting at the back, his face buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking with the effort to keep from bursting out in laughter. Every now and then, you could hear a muffled snort escape him, and you had to fight the urge to look back at him. One glance, and you’d both be done for.

“And now,” the priest continued, oblivious to the brewing chaos, “the couple will exchange their vows.”

You took a deep breath, turning to face Ruggie. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his shoulders shaking ever so slightly with suppressed laughter. His eyes met yours, and you could see the absolute glee dancing in them. This was going to be ridiculous.

You cleared your throat and began, doing your best to sound as dramatic and sincere as possible. “Ruggie Bucchi, from the moment I saw you,” you paused, a wave of barely-contained laughter bubbling up in your chest, “I knew you were the one destined for me. Your… resourcefulness, your… cunning, your ability to stretch a loaf of bread for days… it all captivated my heart.”

Ruggie’s eyes widened slightly at that, and you saw his lips twitch as he struggled not to laugh. You forged on.

“I vow to cherish every moment we spend together, whether it’s in the royal kitchen, watching you devour a feast meant for ten people, or in the court, where I know you’ll always have some… crafty solution to every problem.” You bit your lip, trying to keep a straight face as you added, “I promise to never let a day go by without admiring your thriftiness.”

You finished with a flourish, and the nuns and priests in the room were openly weeping, clutching their hearts as though your “love” had moved them to tears. It was a struggle to not just burst out laughing at the scene. The more you spoke, the more ridiculous it all felt, and you swore you could hear Leona snickering from the back, not even trying to hide it anymore.

Ruggie cleared his throat, taking his turn, his voice as smooth and exaggerated as possible. “Your Highness,” he began, his tone dripping with mock sincerity. “From the moment you dragged me into this—” he coughed, “I mean, the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew there was something special. You’re not like other royals,” he said, the smirk on his face just barely concealed. “No, you’re so… generous. So thoughtful. Offering me all the wealth I could ever dream of—”

You gave him a small nudge with your elbow, and he winked at you before continuing.

“I vow to stand by your side, no matter how absurd the situation.” His grin widened, his voice growing more theatrical with each word. “I’ll be there when the royal chefs burn your food, when the ministers drive you mad with their endless meetings, and most importantly, I’ll make sure there’s always a way out of any mess you get into—royal or otherwise.”

The priest was dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief, clearly moved beyond words by the display of "eternal love" unfolding before him. The nuns were practically clutching their rosaries, and one of the ministers was furiously scribbling notes, perhaps planning to write a memoir about this "historic" union.

But you could feel Ruggie shaking with barely-contained laughter beside you, and you knew he was struggling just as much as you were.

Leona, meanwhile, was not helping.

“Isn’t this just the most touching thing you’ve ever seen?” Leona called from the back, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he stood up and clapped once, slowly. “I mean, who could have predicted such true love would bloom in the royal court? Makes you wonder why we ever doubted them.”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, and sure enough, Leona’s face was barely composed, his smirk broad as he leaned against the back wall. He mouthed, “Go on, keep it up,” as if he was daring you both to escalate the absurdity.

Ruggie, never one to miss an opportunity, took the challenge.

“And, in return for your endless affection,” Ruggie continued, placing his hand dramatically over his heart, “I swear to be the most diligent husband this kingdom has ever seen. I will work tirelessly—mostly to keep you out of trouble, but also to ensure that you never have to lift a finger. You’ll never have to worry about running out of your precious riches, or losing your crown jewels, because I’ll be there to safeguard every coin.”

He shot you a playful wink before finishing with, “And of course, I’ll always be ready to take off with you when things get a little too… boring around here.”

The priest, overcome with emotion, was full-on sobbing now, while your parents sat pale-faced, probably wondering what cosmic force they had offended to end up in this situation.

The room erupted into applause, and Leona, now clapping with a wide grin, leaned over to one of the younger nobles. “You’ll tell the archivists that the vows were this good, right? Might as well get all the details in there.”

Your parents couldn’t even muster a response. They sat rigidly, eyes flickering from you to Ruggie, to the now entirely tearful congregation. The sight of the priests and nuns weeping, utterly convinced by your "heartfelt" vows, was the icing on the cake. You could almost hear the grinding of your father’s teeth from where you stood, and your mother’s strained smile looked one twitch away from cracking.

By the time the priest finally declared your union, both you and Ruggie were barely keeping it together. The ceremony had transformed into a spectacle of ridiculous proportions, and you weren’t sure if anyone could really tell if the applause was genuine or just out of sheer disbelief.

When the final words of the ceremony were spoken and you were “officially” bound together, Ruggie turned to you with a grin so wide it could only be described as mischievous.

“Well, Your Majesty,” he whispered, loud enough for you alone to hear, “we really pulled it off. But I think I deserve a bonus after that performance.”

You stifled a laugh, giving him a light shove. “Wait until after the banquet. I’ll have them send extra desserts to your room as compensation.”

And with that, the two of you walked down the aisle, the very picture of an odd, unexpected royal match.

Leona gave you both a mock bow from the back as you passed by, still laughing silently to himself as the ministers and nobles exchanged bewildered glances.

The following weeks were a blur of royal duties, much to Ruggie’s bemusement. He followed you around, trying to figure out how he ended up playing the role of a royal consort.

“So,” Ruggie said one evening as he flopped down onto the couch in your chambers, “I gotta admit, I thought this was gonna be way worse. I mean, I’m not exactly cut out for all this fancy stuff, but the food? The food is incredible.”

You chuckled, sitting beside him. “Well, it’s only for a year. Then you’ll be free, and you’ll never have to deal with this nonsense again.”

Ruggie shot you a grin. “You’re counting down the days already?”

You smirked. “Aren’t you?”

He shrugged, his grin softening. “Honestly? You’re not as bad as I thought. Could’ve ended up with someone way more annoying.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving him playfully. “Gee, thanks.”As the months went on, something strange began to happen. The more time you spent with Ruggie, the more comfortable things felt. Sure, it had started as a deal—a way to get what you wanted—but somewhere along the way, the lines began to blur.

Ruggie was surprisingly good company. His sharp wit and laid-back attitude were a refreshing change from the stiff, formal interactions you were used to with the other royals. He was resourceful, quick-thinking, and even though he constantly complained about the pomp and ceremony of royal life, he never once let you down.

Then there was the way he treated you. Not as a royal, not as some prized heir—but as you. He teased you, made you laugh, and shared stories about his home and his grandma with such affection that it warmed your heart.

Speaking of his grandma, the first time you visited her, she welcomed you with open arms. She was sharp-tongued and quick-witted, much like her grandson, and the two of you hit it off immediately.

“Oh, so you’re the one who roped my boy into this fancy business?” she had said with a cackle, patting your hand. “Well, you’ve got my approval, sweetheart. Just make sure you keep him in line.”

Ruggie groaned, slumping in his chair. “Grams, please…”

As the year drew closer to its end, you found yourself dreading the day Ruggie would leave. You didn’t want him to go. You didn’t want this to end.

The anniversary of your marriage was fast approaching, and your stomach twisted into knots every time you thought about it. Tomorrow, Ruggie would be free to go, just like you promised. A year of playing the perfect royal consort, and it would all be over. He’d get his freedom, you’d get the throne.

So why did the thought of him leaving make you want to scream into a pillow?

You paced your chambers like a caged animal, mentally kicking yourself. You were supposed to be a genius tactician. Yet here you were, spiraling into an emotional wreck because of one laid-back, cunning hyena.

The door creaked open, and Ruggie strolled in with his usual smirk. “You’re pacing. Never seen you this jittery before. What’s up?”

You froze mid-step, spinning to face him. Your mind was a mess of conflicting emotions. How were you supposed to say this? Should you ease him into it? Throw him off with a joke? No, definitely not the joke. He’d roast you for it.

Ruggie raised an eyebrow. “Uh, you good? You look like you’re about to have a heart attack.”

You blurted out, “I don’t want you to leave.”

Ruggie blinked. Twice. Then blinked again like he was trying to reboot. “Come again?”

“I don’t want you to leave,” you repeated, feeling your palms start to sweat. You took a breath, stepping closer to him. “Tomorrow, you’re free to go, just like we agreed. But I… I don’t want you to. Somewhere along the line, this stopped being just a deal for me. I—I love you, Ruggie.”

Ruggie just stared at you, mouth slightly open like you’d just asked him to wear a ballgown and perform ballet in the throne room. Then he blinked again. “Wait… what?”

You closed your eyes. “You heard me.”

“I think I need to hear it again because there’s no way you just said that,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck like he was trying to get his brain working again.

You huffed, crossing your arms. “I. Love. You.”

Ruggie stood there, looking like you just grew a second head. “Hold on, you’re serious?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I’m being serious!”

Ruggie scratched his cheek, looking away as if he was still processing. “Well, damn. Didn’t expect that.” Then he met your eyes again, his usual grin faltering slightly. “You really love me?”

You nodded, feeling your heart pound. “Yes. And I can’t imagine you not being here. Not as some royal consort, but… just as you.”

Ruggie stared at you for a long moment, before he let out a quiet chuckle. “Y’know… I didn’t plan on this either. This was supposed to be a quick gig, get some cash, eat some fancy food, and bounce. But… well, you’re not like the other royals. You’re kinda fun to be around.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Kinda?”

“Okay, fine, a lotta fun. Happy?” He grinned.

You punched him lightly on the arm. “Not the point!”

He laughed, rubbing his arm dramatically. “Ow, inflicting pain already? But nah, seriously… You’re different. And I guess I didn’t realize how much I’d miss you if I actually left.”

Your heart flipped. “So… you’ll stay?”

Ruggie let out a sigh, but there was a fond smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, I’ll stay. I mean, how can I leave behind someone who lets me sneak pastries from the royal kitchens without ratting me out?”

You rolled your eyes, exasperated but relieved. “That’s what you’re staying for?”

He laughed, pulling you into a loose, playful hug. “Nah, it’s one of the perks though.”

You rested your head against his, feeling your worries melt away. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Oh, you better. I’m expecting a raise and benefits.” He teased, planting a quick kiss on your cheek.

You smirked, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “Benefits? What are you, my royal accountant?”

“Hey, I gotta get something outta this deal.” He grinned wider. “And speaking of, I plan on eating you out of house and home from now on. Just a heads up, Your Majesty.”

You groaned, swatting him on the arm again. “That’s already happening, Ruggie!”

“I mean even more now. You’ve created a monster.” He laughed, pulling you closer again, his nose nuzzling into your hair. “But seriously… I didn’t think this would happen either. Us. But I’m glad it did.”

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth. “Me too.”

As you stood there in each other’s arms, you couldn’t help but think about how far you’d come from that deal. What started as a scheme to outsmart your parents had turned into something real, something you hadn’t expected, but something you wouldn’t trade for the world.

And as Ruggie’s laughter echoed in the room, you realized that maybe, just maybe, plans falling apart wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

“Well,” Ruggie said, smirking at you. “Guess I’m stuck with you now, huh?”

You chuckled, leaning into him. “Yeah, but admit it—you love it.”

He kissed your other cheek, his voice soft but teasing. “Yeah, yeah. I guess I do.”

And with that, you knew inciting that royal scandal was the best thing you could've ever done.

Masterlist

I don't know why but this is the fic that I like the most out of everything I've written lol it was supposed me like 2k words but I couldn't stop and this was born.

[novankenn]

He's a ... THE Super-Model!?!

Pyrrha and Weiss were sitting cat-walk side both looking rather bored as female and male models strutted about before them showing off the most recent "advances" in couture fashion, amid the barrage of camera flashes and polite clapping.

Pyrrha: (whispering) Remind me why we're here?

Weiss: (whispering) Our publicists decided we needed to be seen, so they chose this gala.

Pyrrha: (whispering) This is BORING. I would have preferred stayed in the dorms with Jaune...

Weiss: (whispering) Why didn't you? It's not like you HAD to be here.

Pyrrha: He had another "job" and I didn't feel like sitting around alone.

Weiss: Well thank you for being here. It's always more enjoyable to be at these types of events with a friend.

The room grew quiet, as the MC, dressed in a very fashionable black suit and tie stepped out onto the runway.

MC: Ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for attending, and as a thank you we have arranged for a special showing of a single piece from the Adel Sensual Business Collection!

CLAPPING

Weiss: Adel? You don't think...

Pyrrha: Who else could it be?

A few moments later Coco Adel the second year huntress-in-training and Beacon's resident fashionista stepped onto the runway, with a mic in hand. Stepping off to the left side on a raised platform making the cat-walk completely unobscructed.

Coco: So... Adel Fashions has a SPECIAL treat to close out this little semi-private showing. Showing off our selection of our "Sensual Seduction Office Line"... the Enigma...

Coco: The one and only JA!!!

WILD CLAPPING and SHOUTS OF EXCITEMENT!!!

As the music continued to play, out from behind the curtain stepped a figure that was WELL KNOWN to Pyrrha and Weiss...

Pyrrha / Weiss: JAUNE!!!!

Jaune strode down the catwalk with perfect poise. HIs outfit definitely bordered upon the feminine side. Dressed in a purple-black Blazer over top of an off-white-cream blouse with such a deep plunging neckline that it showed off his navel, which was tucked in to a pair of curve clinging purple-black business casual pants, cynched about his waist with a pair of entwined off-white-cream belts. the whole ensemble ended with a pair of gleaming black heelless ballerina boots.

Weiss: How??? He trips over his own feet in sneakers!!!

Pyrrha: ...

Jaune's features where flawlessly accentuated with make-up, and his normally wild blond mop was heavily gelled and slicked backwards. Pyrrha 's heart slammed with in her chest and unable to resist, she rose from her chair...

Weiss: PYRRHA!!! NO!!!

Weiss in desperate act to prevent the Four Time Mistralian Champion from causing a scene, grabbed her by the pony tail and yanked her backwards...

Pyrrha: But... but...

Weiss: I get it! I do! I want to do it as well...

Pyrrha glared at Weiss.

Weiss: ... BUT we are NOT Blake and Deery!!!

Jaune continued his confident and inspiring stroll along the catwalk with effortless ease and perfect poise.

Weiss: (whimpering) I wish you'd be open to share...

Pyrrha: (hissing) You had your chance...

(Master Episode List)

[r6eduss]

Would you do a jealous daryl fic? Im pretty open to whatever, I just like it when he gets all riled up.

Play Date.

•Summary: You confess to Daryl, but he doesn’t take it serious, leaving you heartbroken. But when he sees you with Spencer the next day, it sparks jealousy in him he didn’t know he had. (Fem reader)

•Warnings: 18+, No established relationship, angst, fluff

•Word Count: 3.5k

•Setting: Alexandria

•A/N: thank you for the request anon! I’m sorry if you aren’t happy with the results. It took me awhile to write this 🫶🏼 I think if Daryl were actually in a relationship with you, he’d be more trusting so he wouldn’t be as jealous.

The walls of Alexandria were a stark contrast to the world outside. It wasn’t just the literal separation between life and death, safety and chaos; it was the reminder of what life had been before everything fell apart. It wasn’t long ago that the world had been buzzing with electricity, the hum of cities, and the simple luxuries they all took for granted. But now? Now, the very idea of safety felt alien.

You glanced over at the furniture as you walked around the home you had been given, the group clustered around you like a protective herd. You all had been in Alexandria for only a day or two, and even though everyone was supposed to be settling in, there was an air of distrust hanging over the group. Rick, in particular, was on edge, his eyes scanning every corner of the street for unseen threats.

Daryl, meanwhile, looked as out of place as he felt. His clothes were worn and dirty, his hair hanging down over his face, but it wasn’t just his appearance that set him apart from the clean-cut Alexandrians. It was the way he held himself, like a caged animal, ready to bolt at the first sign of danger.

You’d known Daryl long enough to recognize the signs. He didn’t belong in a place like this, and he knew it. Hell, none of them did. But Daryl? He was different. He’d always been more comfortable in the wild even before the fall, so here, with their pristine houses and manicured lawns, he felt suffocated.

When Deanna invited everyone to the party, Daryl’s reaction was immediate and expected.

“I ain’t goin’,” he grunted, not even looking at you as he adjusted the strap on his crossbow. He was standing on the porch of the house you were all sharing, still on edge about sleeping inside, feeling a need to stay outside and keep watch to protect them from any and all possible dangers.

“Daryl…” you started, your voice soft, knowing that reasoning with him required patience. “It’s just for a little while. We’ve been out there so long, and Deanna’s trying to make us feel at home. I know it’s not what you want, but could you come? For me?”

Daryl stopped, his fingers stilling on the strap, and he turned to look at you, his blue eyes piercing through the shadows of his messy hair. You saw the hesitation in him, the way he always struggled with doing things for others when they weren’t strictly necessary for survival. But you weren’t asking for much—just his presence.

“Fine,” he muttered, not meeting your eyes. “‘But I ain’t puttin’ on no tie.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Deal.”

The party was already in full swing by the time you had arrived. People were mingling, drinks in hand, laughter filling the air in a way that felt foreign to the group that had spent so long fighting for their lives. It was strange, surreal even, to see people acting as though the world outside wasn’t in ruins. You noticed how uncomfortable Daryl looked almost immediately, his broad shoulders hunched in his black button up shirt while his eyes scanned the crowd as if he were looking for an escape route.

Daryl didn’t say much, hovering behind you like a shadow, his discomfort evident in every tense movement. People from Alexandria approached you, eager to learn about the new arrivals. They asked questions—about where your group had came from, how long they’d been on the road, and how you were all adjusting. You answered politely, but there was always a part of you that held back, a part that still didn’t fully trust this place.

Daryl, meanwhile, was grateful that no one spoke to him, even if the reason they didn’t was because they feared him. He stayed quiet, following you from conversation to conversation, his eyes flicking between you and the people who approached. He felt out of place, like he didn’t belong among these clean, well-fed people who seemed oblivious to the horrors faced outside those walls. But he stayed because you, the person he loved, asked him to.

Eventually, Deanna approached, her smile warm as she introduced you and Daryl to her husband, Reg.

“It’s so nice to meet you both.” Reg began, glancing between the two of them with a kind smile. “So, how long have you two been together?”

Your cheeks flushed instantly, and you quickly corrected him, laughing nervously. “Oh, no, we’re not… we’re not together.”

Daryl stayed silent, his heart was racing but he said nothing. He wasn’t sure what to say, anyway. The awkwardness of the moment hung in the air for a second too long before Deanna’s smile widened knowingly.

“Well, you make a good team,” she said before moving on, leaving them both standing there in the midst of the party.

You felt a strange mix of emotions swirl inside you—embarrassment, confusion, and something else you couldn’t quite name. You glanced at Daryl, but his expression was unreadable, his eyes fixed on the floor.

Before you could say anything, Spencer appeared, smiling that easy, charming smile of his as he greeted you. Daryl tensed immediately, his eyes narrowing as Spencer completely ignored his presence and focused all his attention on you, like everyone at this party had done.

“Glad to see you’re fitting in,” Spencer said, his tone just a little too smooth. He leaned in slightly, his body language relaxed but… suggestive. You noticed it, but tried to push the thought aside, assuming you were reading too much into it.

You both made small talk for a few minutes, Spencer doing most of the talking while you nodded politely, trying not to let your discomfort show. Daryl, on the other hand, could see right through Spencer’s act. He recognized the way Spencer’s eyes lingered a little too long, the way his smile was just a little too practiced.

His jaw tightened as he watched Spencer flirt with you right in front of him. It wasn’t that he thought you were his—but the way Spencer looked at you, like you were a conquest, made him feel frustrated, made him feel emotions he’s never felt for anyone before, feelings he didn’t think he was capable of feeling.

“I’m gon’ get a drink.” Daryl muttered under his breath, though he had no intention of actually getting one. Without waiting for a response, he turned and headed for the door, needing to get away before he did something stupid. You barely noticed as he walked away, too caught up in Spencer’s conversation. It wasn’t until Spencer asked, “So, do you have a boyfriend?” that your mind shifted to Daryl.

You paused, your heart skipping a beat as you thought about your feelings for Daryl. You weren’t together, but you couldn’t deny that your heart had long since gravitated toward him.

“No,” you finally answered, voice quiet.

Spencer’s smile widened, and before you could say anything else, he asked, “Then how about we go out sometime?” The question caught you off guard, but you recovered quickly, offering him a polite smile as you shook your head. “I’m not really interested, I’m sorry.” You couldn’t really handle the awkwardness of the conversation, so you began to walk away, but Spencer wasn’t one to take no for an answer. His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist a little too tightly, his smile fading into something harder. “Come on,” he said, his tone insistent. “It’s just a date.”

You tensed immediately, your eyes narrowing as you tried to pull your wrist free. “Let go,” you said firmly, your voice was low enough that no one else at the party noticed.

For a moment, Spencer hesitated, his grip tightening. But then he seemed to remember where they were—surrounded by both Alexandrians and people

of Rick’s group—and he released you, his expression shifting back into a smooth, apologetic smile.

“Sorry about that,” he said quickly, but the red mark on your wrist told a different story.

Without another word, you turned and walked away, heading toward the table with the drinks to look for Daryl. But when you got there, he was nowhere to be found. What you did see, though, was Spencer already chatting up Sasha, his flirtatious smile back in full force.

You sighed, feeling a wave of disappointment wash over you. The night wasn’t turning out the way you had hoped. You wanted to enjoy it, to maybe have a quiet moment with Daryl, but instead, it felt like everything was falling apart.

Needing some air, you stepped outside, the cool night breeze brushing against your skin. It didn’t take long to spot Daryl, leaning against a nearby fence, a cigarette between his lips as he stared out into the darkness.

You approached him slowly, your heart still racing from the interaction with Spencer. As you got closer, Daryl’s eyes shifted to you, and the moment he saw the red mark on your wrist, his entire demeanor changed.

“Wha’ happened?” he asked, his voice rough but laced with concern.

You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to make a big deal out of it, but you knew there was no point in lying to him. “Spencer grabbed me when I tried to leave,” you really didn’t want to already start problems. “It’s fine. He let go.”

Daryl’s expression darkened instantly, his jaw clenching as he tossed the cigarette to the ground, already turning to head back toward the house. “I’m gon’ kill ‘im.”

“Daryl, wait,” quickly, you stepped in front of him and placed a hand on his chest to stop him. “It’s fine. I just… I want to spend the night with you. Not dealing with that. Please.”

He stopped, his fists still clenched, his eyes blazing with barely contained anger. But something about the way you said it—the way you asked him to stay with you—made him pause. He looked down at you, his chest rising and falling as he tried to calm the storm inside him.

“If he gets near ya again, I swear…”

You smiled softly, touched by his protectiveness. “I know. But you don’t have to worry. I’ve got you—and the rest of the group—watching out for me. I’m fine.”

He was quiet for a moment, his gaze dropping to the ground as he struggled with the emotions swirling inside him. He wanted to protect you, wanted to make sure no one ever laid a hand on you, but there was something else gnawing at him—something he didn’t quite know how to deal with.

Jealousy.

He didn’t think he had a right to feel it, but it was there, a bitter taste in his mouth. Spencer was younger, cleaner, probably the kind of guy you deserved. And him? He was older, rough around the edges, scarred in more ways than one.

He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, you spoke again, voice steady. “Daryl… you don’t have to worry about Spencer or anyone else. My heart… it already belongs to you.”

For a moment, Daryl froze, his mind going blank as your words sank in. He looked down at you, his eyes wide with disbelief. You couldn’t be serious. There was no way someone like you—someone strong, kind, beautiful—could feel that way about him.

A defensive scoff escaped his lips as he shook his head while giving your shoulder a playful nudge.

Your smile faltered, and you felt the sting of his actions deep in your chest. You’d laid your heart bare, and he’d brushed it off like it was nothing. But you didn’t let the hurt show. Instead, you forced a small laugh, playing it off like it was a joke.

But inside, your heart was breaking.

Without another word, you turned and began walking back in the direction toward your shared home with the others, your chest tight with the weight of his rejection. You felt like you had taken a leap, only to be pushed away, and now all you wanted to do was disappear.

Daryl watched you go as he lit another cigarette, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t untangle. His jealously, his feelings for you, things he’d never discuss out loud.

After arriving, you realized you were alone in the house. Everyone was still at the party and the silence was too deafening, leaving you unable to shake the pit in your stomach. The night stretched on endlessly as you rested on the worn-out couch, staring at the ceiling, the events of what happened playing on a loop in your mind.

Rejection. The taste of it still burned in your chest. You had put your heart on the line, and Daryl didn’t seem to notice. It had felt like a punch to the gut, leaving you winded and second-guessing everything. He hadn’t even said anything real—just brushed it off like you were joking, and now, the quiet gnawed at you, making you feel smaller by the minute. Maybe he didn’t feel the same, and that thought consumed you throughout the night.

The next day passed in a blur. You barely caught a glimpse of Daryl, knowing he was out with Aaron, who had given him a new job as a recruiting partner after he had invited him over for dinner. Every step he took away from you felt like another brick in the wall that was forming between you two. You wrestled with your feelings, considering maybe it was time to let loose.

And maybe it was time to open your options with someone else.

That afternoon, while you sat on the porch, a warm breeze brushing against your skin, Spencer appeared, looking sheepish. “Hey, about yesterday...” His voice was shaky, unsure. He shifted on his feet, his gaze darting to the ground before he finally met your eyes. “I’m really sorry for grabbing your wrist like that. I had too much to drink and I was way out of line.”

You remembered the incident from the party—the way he had grabbed you, too rough, too desperate. But now, seeing the guilt in his eyes, you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of pity.

“It’s fine,” you forced a small smile. “You were buzzed. I totally get it.”

Relief washed over his face, and he grinned, more confident now. “So... what about that date?”

You hesitated for a moment, your heart still aching for someone else, but the thought of moving on, of trying to distract yourself from the pain, seemed tempting. Maybe you could use Spencer to forget Daryl. “Sure,” you replied, surprising yourself with the ease in your voice.

The date was... fine. That was the best word to describe it. Spencer talked a lot about himself—his job before the fall, his family, the world he missed. He asked you questions too, seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say, but as much as you tried, you couldn’t really care. His words barely made a dent in your thoughts, because they were always somewhere else—on Daryl.

But Spencer, oblivious to your disinterest, seemed to think it was a success. He walked you home afterward, his arm brushing yours every now and then. You found yourself laughing at some of the things he said, more out of politeness than anything else, but for a moment, it almost felt normal. Almost.

As you approached the front porch, you failed to notice Daryl.

He stood there, not far from the house, just returning from his run with Aaron. He froze, his eyes locked on you and Spencer, his face hardening into something unreadable. Daryl just watched, hands clenched at his sides with his jaw tight.

By the time you reached the porch, you felt tired in more ways than one. As Spencer gave you a final, confident smirk, promising to see you again soon, he finally left. You were lost in thought. The silence wrapped around you, and for a while, you almost forgot about the strange encounter—until you spotted Daryl walking right towards you.

“Hey, Dary—”

Before you could finish, Daryl’s hand shot out, gripping your wrist—not rough, but firm enough to pull you toward him. His face was a storm of anger, jealousy, and something else you couldn’t quite place. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, like he was barely keeping it together. He dragged you into the house, slamming the door behind him with a force that rattled the frame. “The hell ya doin’ with tha’ asshole?” he spat, his voice low and accent thick, filled with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean? We were just talking.”

Daryl scoffed, pacing like a caged animal. “Talkin’? That son’of a bitch touched ya, now yer walkin’ ‘round with him like it didn’t mean nothin’.”

You crossed your arms, defensiveness rising in your chest. “He apologized. It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

His eyes flashed, and you could see the fury bubbling just beneath the surface. “Not a big deal? He hurt ya!” His voice was louder now, frustration pouring out of him.

And then it hit you—why he was acting this way. Was he... jealous? The realization made your blood boil. After he brushed you off, now he wanted to care? Now he wanted to feel something?

You snapped, your voice laced with anger. “So what? It wasn’t nearly as bad as you hurt me! So stop acting like we’re together when you clearly don’t care!”

Your words hung in the air, cutting through him like a knife. You watched as Daryl’s expression shifted from anger to confusion. “What?” His voice was quieter now, unsure.

Your heart clenched, the weight of everything you’d been holding in finally crashing down on you. “Last night,” you began, your voice was softer now, but still trembling with emotion. “When I told you my heart belonged to you... you acted like it was a joke.”

His breath caught in his throat. He remembered. The way he had shrugged it off, laughed it away, thinking you were just messing around. He had never thought, not in a million years, that you could feel that way about him. A girl like you? Loving a guy like him? It was laughable.

But now, seeing the pain in your eyes, it wasn’t funny at all.

“I... I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his voice thick with regret. “Thought ya were just messin’ ‘round.” He trailed off, unable to find the right words.

You sighed, the tension slowly ebbing away as you took in the sight of him—this man who had built up walls so high, he couldn’t even see when someone was trying to climb them. “Why would I joke about something like that, Daryl?” you asked, almost pleading. Maybe he was used to Carol’s humor, or maybe he didn’t think he deserved you.

He shifted uncomfortably, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Dunno,” he muttered. “Didn’t think redneck trash would be worth yer time.”

His words hit you harder than you expected. The way he saw himself, the way he spoke of himself—it hurt. But in this moment, the vulnerability in his voice, the way he couldn’t even look at you... it was endearing.

“Daryl...” you called softly, stepping closer, your heart pounding in your chest. You reached out, gently placing your index finger and your thumb under his chin, tilting his face up until his eyes met yours. The closeness between you made the air crackle with anticipation.

His eyes flickered between your gaze and your lips, nervous, unsure. He bit the inside of his lip, fidgeting with his fingers, and you knew—he was waiting for your next move.

With a steady breath, you leaned in, closing the distance between you, and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, but as his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, it deepened. When you finally pulled away, you stayed close, your lips brushing his as you whispered, “Of course you’re worth my time.”

Daryl’s eyes were wide, his breath shallow. For a long moment, he just stared at you, as if trying to convince himself that this was real. Then, in a quiet manner, he cleared his throat. “I love ya.” The words left his mouth in a very subtle whisper as you felt his breath against your lips.

Your heart stopped, the world seeming to freeze for just a second. He... loved you?

“I love you too, Daryl,” you whispered back, smiling before leaning in to kiss him again.

After a long, tender moment, you pulled back, and Daryl glanced away, embarrassed. “Ya still gon’ hang out with tha’ guy?” he asked, his voice gruff but his tone soft.

You laughed, completely forgetting about Spencer. “No,” you cupped Daryl’s cheek gently, making him revert his gaze back to you. “I have you. That’s all I need.”

@vampiresluv

[joydoesathing]

heres a challenge say everything you love about every single tnmn characters

BET ( but only some doppels will count and the rest don't)

Neighbors

Roman - I like me some serious no-nonsense/ i-am-done-with-life looking guy in accounting :). But he seems to also be actually someone with a soft spot for some things and is actually a really nice and chill dude

Lois - She's so pink and plump and has a beauty mark/mole (people with moles will always have a bonus in my book)

Albertsky - He gives grumpy uncle vibes. Looks like would probably throw hands without hesitation if the situation calls for it

Robertsky - He silly. Love the little quirks in his dialogue where he just greets the doorman "Hi." and says "I look as handsome as ever". Also, I love his outfit. Bro may have no eyebrows and neck visible, but his clothes slay so hard . Like there is no reason why his fit should have a fancy little blue scarf, but yet it does .11/10 XD

Angus - He's a devious looking little shit >:))). And he wears purple and is Italian.

Elenois and Selenne - They pretty women and have a mole

Arnold - His design is just SO CUTE. He reminds me of Jake from Adventure Time with his mustache. But mostly it's the eyes for me. I like to imagine that his eyes would kind of work like this

Gloria - Gives literal ✨Q U E E N ✨ (she could slap me up to the stratosphere and I wouldn't be that mad). Purple and has a mole. Her golden eyes are mesmerizing too

Izaack - His name's cool and he has the stare-into-your-soul blue anime ahh looking eyes

Margarette - Gives nice little auntie vibes and she knows how to make clothes. I would legit ask her for dressmaking tips just so that I could make historical clothes (I love fashion history)

Nacha - Honestly, when I first played the game, she scared the shit out of me because of the Stitchface doppel and I haven't seen her the same for a bit. But after I figured out she's a mom, she didn't seem that bad and I grew quite fond of her. And she cooks too (If you can see a pattern here, I like people who give of parental/familial vibes)

Anastacha - Girl literally gives the doorman attitude like she owns the place XD

Mia - Again, pretty woman. Love the style of her red dress with the pearls.

Dr. W. - Fucking nerd (affectionate)

Francis- The milkman fit looks nice with his face (but I still get war flashbacks from the plethora of thrists arts and the "save the cow, milk the milkman" line being done to death)

Steven - Here's me being a basic bitch rn, but I really, REALLY love them real rugged guy guys (military soldiers, firemen etc.) That, and also he's a tan boi.

Mclooy - Same reason why I like Steven + He's a DILF/GILF. Also I love to point out a little observation of how him and Steven are one of the most American and typically masculine people I can think of (it's quite endearing for me). A military guy and cowboy in one family? They've probably asked what a kilometer is at one point in their adult life.

Alf - He's so tiny and looks so polite. Posh looking lawyer. I love sweet old grandpas.

Rafttellyn - She gives marites energy (it's a Filipino term, you can go search it up) with her dress and style. No joke, she would low-key fit in with these people.

Even her name sounds Filipino to me with the -lynn at the end of her. I even jokingly pronounce her name as rap-ti-lin.

Others + VIPs

Henry: Looks like he really never signed up for the doorman job frfr XD

D.D.D : Amongus???????

Clown Mask: Silly face behind mask

Nightmare Clown: I like how the guy just gets so MAD and in denial when he loses the game in Unlikely, he phases out of the astral plane XD.

Keppler: He may not have a face or proper lore yet, but all I know is that he messed up big time and I wanna know how he's handling that.

42: Reminds me of that one time in science class when we were observing fingerprint patterns

Peach Peach: Probably one peach seed is his only brain cell that's floating around his brain space

Ghost Mask and The Flesh Nurse: Cool looking designs. Do they have lore???

Nightmares

Xezbet - Gargamel looking aah

Drugia - Arabian NIIIIIIGHTS ~~~~~ like Arabian DAAAYS~~~~~~. She looks like a genie :)

Barbatos- Chonky and spiky

Excel - Chonky and spiky, Christmas ham looking ahhh

Abducius - Well, he still has the little devious smile

Anazareth and Lilith - Pretty witchy ladies. Though I like Anazareth a lot more.

Chaugnar - *Siri, please play Ganesha by MASA Works Design". Also elephant <3

Nyogtha- Nice little details with her eyes

Zoth - I like his red robe (?)

Shub - Thick Medusa and she has a little heart shaped tattoo on her forehead

Yog - The fact that he was probably intentionally made to be a Great Value Edward Cullen by Nacho sama as an inside joke about Francis' simps

Quachil - Cute biblically accurate angel. And she floats

Yan - Ooh Chinese mythology reference.

Orcus - "Thirty years since all this happened, thirty years it took to rise. Blood on the floor and in their eyes, they took a bite and left it to die-". I had a FNAF phase before so this was a funny throwback

Ishtar - Goofy ass smile (affectionate)

Teutates - So, does he play in a band ??? XD

Ah Puch - Cutie pie that looks like a slasher villain. Also the surname tho? Gives me The Book of Life flashbacks

Dagda - Bug eyed scarecrow. He does have cool looking mouth stitches

Izanami - Ooooh Japanese mythology reference

[ducktoo]

Syncing Dream [Aespa x M!Reader]

9. Reveluv

Note: hold on, you’re reading the right series. Just enjoy lol

The buzz of excitement had been building for weeks. Aespa’s highly anticipated collaboration with Red Velvet was finally here, and it seemed like the entire company was on edge with excitement. But none more so than Y/n, who was—by all accounts—a certified Reveluv. He had tried to keep his enthusiasm under wraps, of course, but anyone who worked closely with him knew that his particular bias for Seulgi was impossible to hide.

As Aespa prepared for their big day, Y/n could feel the familiar nerves creeping in. Not because of the responsibility of organising such a large-scale collaboration, but because he knew he’d be in close proximity to Red Velvet’s Seulgi—the one and only.

“Y/n, you’re looking unusually peppy today,” Giselle teased, noticing his attempt to hide his excitement as they got ready in the studio.

“What? No, this is just my normal face,” Y/n mumbled, fidgeting with a clipboard.

“Uh-huh,” Ningning drawled, smirking. “Your ‘normal’ face that happens to glow whenever we mention Seulgi-unnie?”

Y/n’s ears turned red, but he didn’t have a comeback ready. He was too busy mentally preparing himself for what was about to happen: hours of rehearsals, and meetings, and potentially humiliating fanboy moments. Great.

Despite trained there at the same time as Winter, he actually never meet Red Velvet. He only became a fan when he left for a while.

So for today, he is both a manager and a Reveluv.

As the door opened and Red Velvet stepped into the studio, Y/n’s heart leaped into his throat. He could feel the energy shift as Aespa greeted their seniors with deep bows and warm smiles. Karina and Winter exchanged polite words with Irene and Joy, while Ningning and Giselle bonded instantly with Wendy and Yeri.

"Oh, Y/n-ah!" Minji, their manager, greeted him excitedly. "Finally, my first junior is working with me."

"Hi, noona. I'm excited as well." Y/n bowed. Suddenly, Minji scooted both of them into the side.

"Have fun gawking over our Seul." Minji smirked. "The girls bailed out on you for comedic relief."

"Of course they do…" Y/n muttered.

"Anyway…have fun!" Minji exclaimed before turning over to the girls. "Seulgi-ya! Can you come here please?"

"Ok!"

And then, there she was—Seulgi.

Y/n had met idols before. He had spent countless hours with Aespa and other artists, coordinating schedules, handling logistics, and ensuring everything ran smoothly. But this was different. Seulgi was, well... Seulgi.

"Seulgi, this is-"

“Y/n, right?” Seulgi smiled as she approached him, her voice as warm and friendly as he’d always imagined. "I heard from Minjeong about her hardworking best friend."

Y/n blinked, his brain short-circuiting. “Y-Yeah! I mean, yes, that’s me. I’m Y/n. Manager of Aespa. Yep, that’s who I am.”

The girls of Aespa exchanged knowing looks, barely suppressing their giggles at Y/n’s obvious awkwardness. He tried to keep his cool, reminding himself that he had a job to do. But internally, he was screaming.

Seulgi just smiled wider, clearly amused by his reaction. “Well, it’s nice to meet you officially. We’re really excited about this collaboration with our junior.”

“I-I’m excited too! Really, really excited,” Y/n blurted out before clearing his throat, hoping to regain some semblance of professionalism. “I mean, on behalf of Aespa, we’re all really looking forward to this.”

Seulgi chuckled softly before heading over to join her members, leaving Y/n standing there, frozen in place.

-

Trying to focus on logistics when Seulgi was right there was proving to be difficult. Every time Y/n glanced in her direction, his heart would skip a beat, and it didn’t help that Aespa, particularly Ningning and Giselle, seemed to be enjoying his internal struggle way too much.

“Idiot, are you okay?” Winter asked, feigning concern as she watched him fumble with the equipment setup.

“I’m fine, Jeong” Y/n muttered, clearly not fine. “Just, uh, making sure everything’s perfect for... you know... the performance.”

Karina smirked. “For the performance? Or for Seulgi-unnie?”

Y/n shot her a withering look, but the effect was lost when he nearly dropped his clipboard. Giselle and Ningning couldn’t hold back their laughter anymore, while Winter just shook her head, clearly enjoying his suffering.

"Stuff you all."

As the rehearsals went on, things only got worse. At one point, Y/n found himself standing too close to Seulgi during a break, and he nearly knocked over a mic stand trying to back away gracefully. Seulgi just laughed it off, but Y/n could feel his face burning.

At the end of the day, though, everything came together beautifully. The chemistry between Aespa and Red Velvet was electric, and the joint practice was nothing short of magical. Y/n had been so focused on keeping everything running smoothly that he had barely processed how incredible it all looked until he saw it from backstage. Watching both groups in perfect harmony, dancing and singing together, was a dream come true—not just for fans, but for him personally.

As the performance ended, Y/n stood in awe, his heart swelling with pride. Both groups had nailed it, and the crowd’s reaction was proof of that.

-

The after-dinner was a blur of get together and shared excitement. Both Aespa and Red Velvet were in high spirits, celebrating their bonds with food and laughter. Y/n, still riding the high from the practice, was doing his best to keep his cool, but the occasional glance at Seulgi kept his fanboy tendencies in check.

Ningning, however, wasn’t about to let him off that easily. “So, Y/n,” she started with a sly grin, “I saw Seulgi-unnie looking your way during practice. You should totally ask for a picture.”

Y/n blinked, caught off guard. “What? No, I can’t just... I mean… Ya Ning, it's mean to give me high hopes.”

“She’s right,” Karina chimed in, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “It’s your chance. You’ve been a fan for years, right?”

“Yeah, and we can all tell,” Giselle teased. “You’ve been holding it together pretty well today, but come on—don’t miss this.”

Before Y/n could protest, he found himself being nudged forward by the girls, his feet carrying him toward Seulgi before his brain could catch up. His heart pounded in his chest as he approached her, still unsure of what he was going to say.

“Seulgi-sunbaenim,” he started, his voice a little shaky.

She turned to him with that same warm smile, and Y/n felt his nerves melt away—just a little. “Yes, Y/n?”

“I-I was wondering,” he stammered, “if it’d be okay to take a picture with you. Just... you know, for the memories.”

Seulgi’s smile widened, and without hesitation, she agreed. “Of course! Let’s take one.”

Y/n could hardly believe it as they stood together, smiling for the camera. The girls, watching from the sidelines, couldn’t contain their giggles, knowing how much this moment meant to him.

Afterward, Y/n stared at the picture on his phone, barely able to process what had just happened. It wasn’t just a photo—it was a treasured memory, one that he knew he’d look back on for years.

-

The night continued with more laughter and celebration. Red Velvet and Aespa were mingling, the two groups bonding over their shared experience and the success of their collaboration.

At some point, Y/n found himself sitting with both groups, listening to the girls talk about their favourite moments from practice. The atmosphere was relaxed, the tension of rehearsals and preparation long gone.

Seulgi, sitting nearby, caught his eye and gave him a knowing smile. “You did great today, Y/n. It’s not easy organising something like this, but everything turned out perfect.”

Y/n, still reeling from his fanboy moment, could only nod. “Thank you, Seulgi-sunbaenim. It was... an honour.”

"Ayy, call me Seulgi-noona, now. We're way past acquaintance at this point."

"Ah ok…Seulgi-noona.."

"…Ya Seulgi, you broke him." Minji joked.

"Unnie, you're so mean." Winter followed suit.

As the evening came to a close, Y/n found himself quietly reflecting on the day (after finally coming into his sense). It had been a whirlwind of excitement and nerves, but in the end, everything had come together in ways he never expected.

He smiled to himself, the photo of him and Seulgi saved on his phone like a cherished trophy. Today had been a dream come true—and he knew that, no matter how many more events he organised in the future, this collaboration would always hold a special place in his heart.

…Of course, it doesn’t top the first picture of him and Winter smiling together when they first joined SM.

[theminecraftbee]

more seriously: hey guys, remember backseat gaming is rude. i know the line while watching people play vault hunters is going to be blurrier (like, even joe has directly admitted he'll need chat's help for a lot of things, since he hasn't played modded in like seven years), but unless your streamer asks directly, it's generally considered rude to bring up what you think they're doing wrong/unoptimally. just... let them make mistakes and do things in ways you wouldn't. if it's really important, iskall is there, as are other veteran players like false, stress, xisuma, and wels to a lesser extent. they can help guide as needed. so while you're watching, just stick around for the ride!

[uncanny-tranny]

I was told by someone that I couldn’t call myself a transsexual because I had to go off T for health reasons and I haven’t had any gender affirming surgeries yet since I’m poor and disabled. Is this true? What are like, the requirements to be a transsexual? /gen

The requirements to be transsexual: to identify as transsexual

This might seem too... straightforward, but genuinely, medical transition is so complex and individual that it's worthless to make it so ridged. There are so many reasons you have to stop some aspect(s) of transition, even if you didn't want to! That doesn't mean you never transitioned or that it's "lesser" now that you stopped.

Genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, I, for one, couldn't care less if you call yourself a transsexual. To my mind, it is as political as it is an identity. Being a transsexual isn't just about your identity but also your place in this world. "Transsexual menace" isn't just a cutesy little slogan but a political battle cry. It can be an attitude about changing sex, about the lucid and plastic nature of people, and so much more.

The word transsexual was made and popularized, honestly, with the idea that we are separate from others. I think we can take this back and make it ours. We can start by actually making it our own, not the cis world's own.

[lelianasbong]

Can't imagine playing DAI without Sera.... she's essential to my Inquisitor's sanity. I cannot fathom being surrounded by oceans of insufferably self-important nobles and the local episcopal see without her to make the experience not only bearable but entertaining. Now where's my guillotine

[badolmen]

I feel that there’s a world of difference between “fandomizing real world politics and tragedies” (in my understanding - applying ‘fandom’ to, well, real world politics and tragedies eg. shipping war criminals or writing rpf for victims of traumatic events) and “making fandom art which acknowledges real world politics and tragedies” (in my understanding - political cartoons/art with a particular flag/etc.).

I’m not saying that the latter can’t be insensitive or in poor taste depending on execution but also…idk it’s weird to see tumblr activists freaking the fuck out over art of dunmesh senshi bringing food to Gaza. I can’t believe that’s the hill you want to kill (your own allies nonetheless!) on. We have people writing smut for about specific IOF soldiers or shipping Palestinian journalists, like, is the comic imagining a fictional character showing up to help people in a horrific situation really what you want to call tone deaf and insensitive?

[atonalginger]

@a-cosmic-elf, I saw that post you tagged me in and blocked the person you reblogged, forgetting it would disappear the post so I'll say what I was going to ramble in the tags here:

I stared at that post in 'has completed a 81k+ slow burn romance novel and has several more stories going, two starring a minor npc, and drawn numerous pieces of art that took me ~4 hours on average to finish inspired by this game, its characters, and world'. My blog has seen more activity and traction since I started playing Starfield than the past 5 flipping years and I broke through both my writers and art block because of this game. I actually put myself out there and have met wonderful people I would not have met otherwise because of my love for this game. But my blog/I don't exist xD

It's fine if people don't like Starfield. Just like its fine that people didn't like Saint's Row (2022), another game that knocked me out of an art and writing slump, funnily enough. Not every piece of media is going to click with with everyone. That's fine. But we don't need to crap on the media that doesn't click with us. It's not needed.

Like I don't enjoy horror movies. So I don't watch them. I also don't go tagging the fandoms telling them how bad they are and how they are this or that because...it's not productive. I could use that energy on something fulfilling and fun that I /do/ enjoy.

*shrugs*

Anyway I'm going to go back to writing the scene I was working on in my Ranger!Delgado au since my mind won't let me sleep.

[mars-ipan]

this is gonna sound incredibly virtue signal-y i fear but i have been feeling. so fiercely protective of all the transfems i've ever met lately

[thebaffledcaptain]

I’m going to sound like a filthy british bastard by saying this but one of the things I think turns me away from this heavily fandomized tumblrification of the american revolution is genuinely the lack of british perspectives. I obviously don’t fault tumblr for this being the case (it goes without saying that it is a far deeper issue than just that… cough cough american nationalism and exceptionalism and the effect that has on the media) but in spaces like this there really just isn’t… any nuance at all to this conflict which was so undeniably nuanced in so many ways. it’s all about gay founding fathers and cool spies which. I understand the appeal but at a certain point I’m genuinely not sure how much of it we can call history

[dismalzelenka]

.

[cuntylittlesalmon]

i’m finding it really hard to take more media discourse seriously right now because a lot of it tends to be hinder by emotional fragility. the “if something make me feel this type of way (namely the escapist, or the horny) it is inherently above criticism, and any attempts to critique (even if said critique is coming from a place of endearment) is an attack on my morality” stuff.