#but right now he's right in treating them like normal people

[woongisi]

Fish Zoo Incidents // Kim Donghyun (Leehan)

vers!college!Leehan x vers!college!fem!Reader // SMUT

WC// 5.6k

Synopsis// The new transfer from across the country catches your interest and your heart. Discovered my means of fish and aquarium related incidents.

Warnings// smut, college au, pervy leehan, possessive leehan, pet names, gendered terms, some jealousy, leehan tries to maintain chivalry, panty sniffing, dacryphilia, rawdogging it (do not do), PinV sex, determined leehan, comfort

Author's Note// probably changing the title... tbh idek how to label the dynamics bc this is self indulgent and also i haven't written in forever so i hope it suffices xx

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August. The month of your nightmares. It was your second year of college, and you'd been through this whole school thing for over a decade prior, but you never did get accustomed to wishing summer goodbye.

One thing you were grateful for? Common core classes were finally almost over, and you could begin the courses you really cared about. Your whole life you'd been passionate about nature. The way it worked, the creatures that inhabited it, and what you could do to save it. It was only natural you dedicated the remainder of your life to it.

The first day of class was the first and last time you actually cared to put any effort into your outfit. As far as you were concerned, first impressions were the only impressions you needed. You chose your favorite pair of jeans, a flowy top, and your best shoes. Only after fixing your hair meticulously into place did you grab your bookbag and dorm keys, meandering your way to the science building.

A surprising amount of your new classmates had filtered into the room rather early. Normally people snuck in about a minute before class. You scanned the room, giving everyone a quick smile, before claiming your seat. You never really had assigned seating, but it was a sacred unspoken rule that the seats you all chose today would stay yours for the remainder of the semester. Choose wisely. You aren't getting out of it.

It wasn't uncommon for you to see new faces around campus. Students transferred in and out all the time, not to mention the incoming freshmen. What was unusual was for one of these new faces to really catch your attention. Yet here you were, watching a man you'd never seen before peeking his head through the doorway, seemingly assessing if he was in the right room, proceeding to stand awkwardly at the front. This mystery student was quite tall and rather lanky from what you could tell. It worked for him, though. Despite being dressed casually in sneakers, straight blue jeans, and a baggy bang blue hoodie, he looked incredibly put together.

His hair was bleached blond, and rather long for a man. The locks stopped just above the shoulders in the back, fluffy and naturally wavy. His lips were rosy, full, and pursed analytically with his thick furrowed brows. His chin had the slightest cleft you could only really notice in the shadows cast by the dim classroom light. Those eyes, you mused, those were the cherry on top. The corners of his eyes drooped down a bit with long dark lashes, charming. You almost scoffed out loud thinking about the bullshit pseudoscientific modern eugenics TikTok slop that asserted you were ugly if you had a negative canthal tilt. You thought they were wrong before and you absolutely knew they were wrong now. That paired with the pitch back irises contained within made him look like somewhat of a scorned puppy with his facial expression.

Before you could even register your actions you found yourself waving that shining balance of masculinity and femininity over to the empty desk next to you. None of your friends shared this class with you, and most of the other students were already hitting it off with the people near them.

“Hey! You're new, right? Welcome to campus. I know it's only the first day of the year, but I hope it's treating you well.” You flashed him a genuine grin, fixing your posture.

“Thank you,” He extended his hand in an awkward fashion that could be interpreted as asking for a handshake or a high five. “Campus is lovely. Very spacious. Oh, I’m Leehan… It's great to meet you.”

“I’m Y/N. The pleasure is all mine.”

Something about this Leehan boy’s demeanor was captivating to you. You spent the last 5 or so minutes before the period began chatting about your majors, schedules, and rudimentary life stories. By the time it was your turn to introduce him in some childish first-day “meet your peers” game, you even had difficulty choosing only one interesting thing to say about him. In the end, you made him promise to meet you after classes ended for the day. Outside the library. Someone had to show him around, and it may as well be you. You even figured afterward you could take him to the different dining halls and show him what items were most worth his money and what deserved to mummify in the kitchen.

As it turned out, you were housed in the same dorm hall. The floors alternated in gender, leaving him on the floor just below yours. In the following few months, you thought Leehan might spend more time in your room than he did his own. Thankfully, your roommate didn't mind much. She had many friends and extracurriculars, so she wasn't there often anyway. You were two very different people, but your lifestyles worked together like clockwork and she was always kind to you.

There were many nights you met up to study, to varying degrees of success. Tonight was one where you got sidetracked all too easily, opting to watch some god-awful romcom instead. There wasn't much space in the dorm rooms, so most often Leehan sat on your bed, back to the wall, while you settled between his legs with your head on his chest. Some of your friends poked fun at you for this. What kind of “just friends” ate nearly every meal together, had scheduled weekly hang-outs, and cuddled in bed? Largely, you brushed them off. It was just friendship… right?

You picked up your phone for only a moment to check the time, groaning at the brightness of the screen. It was already nearing 3 am.

“Leehan, It’s like 3 in the morning. You should probably head out.”

“Why?” You could hear the pout in his voice. “There's only like 15 minutes left in the movie. Give me 20 more minutes. Pleaseeee?”

You huffed in faux annoyance. “Fine, but if I fall asleep on you that's your fault.”

“I can live with the consequences.”

After maybe 5 minutes you were teetering on the edge of falling asleep. Truthfully, you weren't sure if you had fallen asleep or not. All you knew for certain was you were comfortable and glowing warm. The sound of Leehan’s calm heartbeat thrumming against your ear was enough to convince you it wasn't worth moving.

“Y/N?” You felt Leehan brush your hair away from your eyes. “You awake?”

You chose not to reply. You didn't have the energy to.

Leehan hummed in acknowledgment. “Thought so.” He pressed his lips against the top of your head, debating if he wanted to kiss you or simply linger. “Goodnight, sweet girl. I… nevermind.”

The following morning, you woke up in a daze. Alone, in your aggravatingly empty bed, you rolled over to see a piece of candy with a Post-it note nearby. Leehan texted you all the time, yet he decided to leave you a physical note. That was so like him.

“Hey,

You fell asleep on me last night

Idk how I managed to move you but you didn't wake up sooo

There's an iced coffee waiting for you in the fridge

See u later xx”

It ended with a tiny doodle of a fish.

That's when everything the night prior flashed through your mind. Hazily, unsure if you'd just imagined it or not. Either way, it made your cheeks flush. Picking up your phone, you fumbled your way through to Leehan’s contact, typing up a little thank-you message. His reply was almost immediate.

“hey, can we meet up >> i wanna talk to you”

“i mean sure… u ok pookie?”

“great,, meet me in the courtyard by the pear trees in 15”

Something rattling around in your brain made you nervous. Normally, Leehan didn't ask to meet up. He just gave you a time and place, knowing you'd show up. Perhaps you were just overthinking things. Whatever the status of your sanity, it took you far too long to get your eyeliner even on account of your trembling hands. You didn't even do your makeup to meet Leehan if it was off campus, so why did you feel the need to today?

Leehan perked up the moment he saw you in the distance, scrambling to his feet and waving as if he wasn't the only one there. Beneath him, there was a throw blanket. One of those shabby printed ones, straight out of y2k, expectedly with an ocean scene.

It seemed he had the same idea with getting ready, having ditched his usual hoodie and loose jeans for a tighter-fitting pair complete with a silky button-up. Leehan grabbed your hand, collapsing onto the blanket and taking you down with him. You hit the ground with a thud and playfully swatted his shoulder. Absentmindedly, Leehan took a deep breath and nuzzled against you. He closed his eyes and let out a content sigh. You smiled and ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

“Leehan… What’s gotten into you? You seem extra clingy today.”

“Hm?” His words slurred slightly. “Just missed you.”

“I saw you quite literally last night.”

“Are you saying you didn’t miss me?”

Leehan was frowning now, to the point you weren’t sure if he was exaggerating or not.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying. You know that.”

Ignoring his tiny hmph, you tucked the stray strands of his hair behind his ear so you could see his face. He was blushing so deeply you started to wonder if he was running a fever.

“Well,” You started again. “What did you want?”

Leehan removed himself from you only so he could put one hand on either side of your torso and hover there. Despite the rather bold move, he wouldn't hold your gaze.

“Do you wanna go to the aquarium with me on Saturday…?”

“Duh. Just name a time. But can you at least look me in the eye? Do I look that bad today, hm?”

You smirked, knowing he wouldn't appreciate that last comment but with how shy he was being you just couldn't resist it.

“Quit that! You look…” Leehan whined, and you couldn’t help but note how his eyes briefly scanned your face and upper chest. “You look breathtaking.”

“Right… Thank you.” You smiled meekly.

Leehan moved away from you and landed onto his back harshly.

“Hey… Can we go, like… asadate!”

“Leehan, you're gonna have to repeat that.”

The few seconds of silence was deafening.

“Can… we go… as a date? A real one?”

Leehan hid his face behind one of his large hands, absolutely refusing to look you in the eye. You didn't think you'd ever seen him this embarrassed, and he wasn't sure he'd ever been this embarrassed. You stifled a laugh that scared the soul out of him for a moment's time.

“Yeah, sure. We can.” You slapped Leehan’s shoulder a little harder than you intended. “You're not sly. I knew there had to have been a reason you worked up to this so much.”

A relieved sigh left his lungs, almost comically heavy. Suddenly, he rolled himself over with enough velocity he could get himself mostly on top of you. He truly did smell good. Normally you were both laughing at the same time, but now he was the only one giggling. You were simply too shocked. Shocked… and mesmerized. For the first time you noticed that when Leehan laughed, only his top teeth showed which brought out his smile lines, and his eyes turned upward in crescents, causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle up in the most endearing manner. He really had the smile of an ahjussi.

“Thank god.”

*

A couple of days later, the two of you pranced into the aquarium surrounded by laughter. There was a time when he took one of your dresses from your dorm closet when you were asleep. One of your white ones, short yet flowy with puffy sleeves. It had gotten stained and ripped at the hem on one particularly eventful night out. When he returned it you accused him of being creepy, though you were only a little serious. He left dejected anyway. Only once you unfolded it did you realize he'd worked the large juice stain out of the fragile material and embroidered tiny blue fish along the bottom edge of the dress, neckline, and the openings of the sleeves. You chose to wear that today.

Leehan’s face lit up brighter than ten suns once he saw it. Blushing and running his fingers along the hem, he couldn't take his eyes off of you.

“I thought you trashed this!? I never saw it in your closet again.”

“I put it in a box I found. I didn't want it to get stained or wrinkled.” You hooked your pinky finger with one of his. “Uhm… I'm sorry I never thanked you. My ego got the best of me and I felt too humiliated to tell you I shouldn't have been so rude.”

“Hey, don't even. Seeing you in it now is enough of an apology.”

He was compartmentalizing every aspect of your outfit today. The white sandals with little blue embroidery, your matching blue purse. The pearl jewelry and blue headband. Leehan was wearing navy blue dress pants complete with some random keychain hanging off a belt loop and a white, short-sleeved, button-up that he'd also embroidered some little fish on the collar of. Of course he did. He had told you the dress code was blue and white but never in his wildest dreams did he expect you'd match so well. He especially didn't expect to see that dress on you.

Leehan was so damn smooth it took quite a few exhibits before you noticed how he kept getting closer to you. The entire duration you were meandering about up to this point, he inched in. With his chest nearly pressed against your back, it was only in this moment you became acutely conscious that all the times you thought you felt him staring at you instead of the fish wasn't in your head, and the multiple occasions his hand brushed against yours wasn't a lack of spatial awareness. This in its entirety made you painfully aware of the blush rising on your cheeks.

“Mm, there's a group of children headed this way. Let's move on.” This time as you set off to the next room, you grabbed Leehan’s hand. After leading him to the jellyfish you not so nonchalantly threaded your fingers with his. Lord, they were long. You may not have been looking directly at Leehan, but in the deep blue water you could see his face reflected faintly back. Eyes darting back and forth from the jellies to you, donning a huge smile that he was miserably failing to conceal. His thumb caressing the back of your hand made your stomach flutter.

Roughly two thirds of the way into the aquarium the pair of you decided to drop by the cafeteria and manhandle the vending machine into letting go of your items. Leehan insisted that you let him feed you your fruit snacks, horribly domestic. A few snacks in you threatened to bite him, leading both of you to erupt in laughter.

“Haha, you're so beautiful, really!” Slipped from his mouth mid laugh and judging by the way he went right back to laughing you didn't think he even noticed he said that out loud. Not even the look on your face queued him in.

Dropping the bag of gummies to the table, you took both of his hands and shook them back and forth. You couldn't handle seeing him this gleeful, it stressed you out in the best possible way.

“Me? Psh!” It was slightly hard to breathe. “You're the most handsome human I've ever had the joy of seeing with my own eyes, and-”

The room suddenly felt eerily empty, just the two of you across from each other.

“And I never ever ever want you to lose that shining smile.”

The atmosphere was now heavy, exchanging sheepish glances. Leehan had never felt so shy around anyone before. Breaking the tension he motioned for you to follow him and sprang right out of the seat.

Hands locked back together, you soon found the main attraction of the entire joint. One sprawling exhibit that spanned from floor to ceiling, stocked like a coral reef complete with small sharks. The only thing you felt was awe, until you looked at Leehan and felt your heart skip a beat. Kiss him, a metaphorical little devil sat on your shoulder. No no no, too fast. What if I upset him? Now you were arguing with the imaginary manifestations of your own mind. Come on. His arm is around your waist. He’s been longing for this. Are you ever going to have such a chance again? Kiss the boy. You couldn't win that debate.

“Leehan?” You whispered, softly enough you weren't sure if he could even hear you.

“Hmm?”

Standing in front of the massive fish tank, Leehan looked more beautiful than ever. Reflected blue lights and water patterns danced across the room. Leehan looked at it with admiration, you could see it in his eyes. You always could. Even in the lowest light, his downturned eyes always glimmered like the ocean waves. Without saying a word you knew he was silently analyzing every fish he saw, naming them and noting what made them each unique. Yet you noticed the fondness in his eyes didn't change when he turned his attention to you with that gentle boxy smile of his.

“Leehan… Can I kiss you?”

A small noise of surprise left Leehan’s mouth. He turned to face you fully, pushing his forehead against yours with no hesitation.

“Please. I thought you'd never ask.”

It was like a scene out of a movie, you thought. His lips felt impossibly velvety soft against yours. The first kiss was brief, exploratory. It made your stomach fill with electricity. Leehan gave the smallest chuckle, you could feel him smiling against you. He hooked his arm around your waist and pulled you closer against him, nuzzling his face into your hair. Only then did he put his hand on the back of your neck and steal another kiss. One that was more confident and full of intent.

“Not here, alright?” Leehan spoke with a pout. “Let's not get kicked out for PDA.”

“Mhm. We’ll pick up where we left off later.”

The next half an hour or so was the closest to hell Leehan felt he'd ever been. For all the date he'd been focused on how pretty you were or how excited you got when seeing a fish you particularly liked. It was so fluffy, so cute and pure. The kiss changed things drastically.

Now, his inner thoughts were seeping through the cracks of his psyche and plaguing him. Fish were his favorite thing in the universe but now he could only focus on the sensation of your lips pressed against his own and your hot breath hitting his face. Guilt panged deep in his chest, but it couldn't dislodge that he now felt this wasn’t so innocent anymore. Your cherry chapstick transferred lightly onto his lips and it made him upset to think that at a point in the near future he couldn't lick his lips and remember the taste of you.

Were you wearing a bra under the loose fabric of your dress? Leehan. What about your panties, did you take the time to match those too? Leehan, quit it. Maybe you'd even found some with fish patterns and cute little bows. Fuck, did you want him to see? Leehan, you're a gentleman. Don't. Much as you were earlier, it was Leehan’s time to bicker with himself. Leehan, you don't want to ruin this. Don't be such a man. You don't want to lose her, you- No. Leehan cut his own mind off. He had to know, he craved to know, to push your dress up and quell his perverted curiosity.

Leehan came back to reality at the feeling of you pulling on his sleeve. “Ow, Leehan. Loosen your grip a little.”

He opened his mouth to apologize for being inconsiderate but it fell on deaf ears. Once you locked eyes with Leehan it was like the world disappeared, even the sound of his voice. You could only describe the expression on his face as pathetic and hungry. Pupils blown wide, cheeks colored a deep red, sore lips that he'd clearly been biting, and his tongue poking anxiously at the inside of his cheek.

“Can we go?” He was truly too gentle to make a demand of you, but the intent and directions laced in his simple request weren't lost on you. Leehan’s vague gesture toward his pants only confirmed your suspicion.

“You must not feel well,” You chided. You knew the truth of course but so desperately wanted him to verbalize it to you. “Let's go.”

*

The ride back to the dorms was abnormally quiet. Leehan was entirely dedicated to getting home as quickly as possible without breaking the law. You were focused on keeping yourself level headed and not rubbing your thighs together.

As soon as you got inside, Leehan locked the door to his room and shoved a chair right beneath the handle. His roommate, should he come home, would just have to go somewhere else.

While his movements were feverish, Leehan was no less careful than usual. Caging you back first against the wall, Leehan captured your gaze and hyped himself up internally. “You can say no. I won't get mad. I promise, but please.” His voice was deep with desire that made your spine tingle. “Please let me kiss you again.”

That was exactly what you hoped to hear.

“Why would I ever deny you? I’m the one who initiated our first. So. Indulge.”

It was no more than a second from the time the final word left your mouth that Leehan had encased you. The arm cradling your lower back was firm, a stark contrast to the caring hold he had on your cheek. Leehan kissed slow, he kissed deep. Passionate. To him there was nobody else in the world right now. Every small noise you made was greedily swallowed.

“Leehan,” You whimpered. “You're good. Have you ever kissed someone before?”

“Yeah.” He peppered kisses along your jawline, making it a bit easier for you both to talk. “A lot. Just with one person.”

You let a disappointed huff rise from your throat.

“Don't be like that, hm. It doesn't matter now. It was before I transferred here. I'm sure you've kissed plenty of guys before.”

“Maybe… maybe a handful. Only once each���”

“Then you and I aren't so different, and your record is broken. Am I special?”

You knew Leehan had a wicked grin across his face. A particularly harsh nip on your collarbone made you help.

“I guess so.” You bit your lip. “Well how about this. Have you ever had a handjob? Maybe a blowjob? Gone down on a girl?”

“All of the above. A few times.”

You hated in every sense of the word how this new knowledge made jealousy flare up in your stomach. You shouldn't care. All while making you feel so hellish, Leehan never once stopped ruining your poor throat and stealing kisses from you between words.

“Why are you asking? You're just making yourself jealous, Y/N. It's ok. Just shh. That was the past and this is now.”

“I just- Hmph. Well do I get to be anything special to you? Your first ever?”

“You're already special. Please, get that idea out of your pretty little head. But… if you have to know.”

Leehan’s hand on your waist was now rhythmically groping at your ass. His next sentence was low, whispered in your ear. “I've never truly fucked someone. Never had my dick in a girl’s pussy.”

Now, for the first time outside of his sleep talking ramblings, did you get the privilege of Leehan talking dirty. The first lewd utterances.

“O-oh. Well I've-”

“Quiet, you don't have to tell me. I don't need to know how many boys you've spread your legs for. I don't care. I just care that right now you're in my grasp.”

Honestly, you thought, you shouldn't be so turned on right now. Sweet, courteous, silly Leehan was before you, fighting to keep from rubbing himself through his slacks. On second thought you had every right to be insane.

“I want you to call me something you never called her.” Perhaps your jealousy could be of use. “I mean it when I say never, not even once.”

Against your expectations, Leehan let you go and stood back. You were worried you upset him until he took your hand, motioning for you to come to the edge of the dorm bunk bed and get right up in his lap. You obliged without a word.

“I can do that.” Leehan brushed your hair back behind your shoulders and ears, looking you in the eyes entirely vulnerable before pressing his forehead to your just as he'd done at the aquarium. “My sweet girl. My. Mine. You're my sweet girl, and I… If you'd give me the time of day… I want you to be my first.”

Suddenly you felt giddy. It took every ounce of control in you to not let it out by grabbing Leehan by the shoulders and shaking him as hard as possible.

“You called me that the other night. When I was falling asleep on you. I thought I dreamt it.”

“You remember?” He was uncertain as to why but Leehan felt shy again, scratching the back of his head nervously.

“Yeah.” You pulled back to peer into those dark wet eyes fondly. “What were you going to say… before you changed your mind?”

“I love you.”

“Huh?”

“I love you. I love you and I want to be with you for real. Not whatever we've been doing. I want to be your boyfriend. I think a lot of girls have gone after me for my looks and they get put off by me not being a fratty asshole. But not you.”

Your head was for all intents and purposes in the clouds.

“So, will you be mine? In my head, you already are. Let’s make it official.”

“You loser. Of course I'll be your girlfriend.” The kiss you gave him feigned innocence, revealed to be anything but when you slid your hand up Leehan’s thigh to cup the bulge straining against his pants.

How patient. You thought, realizing he'd likely been at least half hard since you kissed him a couple hours prior. It probably hurts, but here he is.

“To reply to your earlier comment, love, yes. I'll let you shove your cock up my pussy for the first time ever.”

“Oh, don't put it that way.” Leehan sputtered. “That's… too vulgar. Let me be respectful.”

You jokingly rolled your eyes at him. “Be my guest.”

Without another word said you were sitting on the edge of the bed, and Leehan was knelt down on one knee sliding off your sandals. From this angle he caught a glimpse of your panties and it made his breath catch.

“What? You wanna see?” The question posed was rhetorical, your legs parting as you pulled your dress up to your waist.

Navy blue. Little white fish silhouettes in the pattern of what would otherwise be polka dots. Complete with thin white ribbons that tied together on either side like a bikini.

“I was right…”

He was right? Leehan was more of your typical man than you thought, but certainly not in a negative way. You extended your leg, using the tips of your toes to lift his chin up so he'd make eye contact with you.

“Pervert.”

Leehan didn't love that his neglected cock twitched at that accusation.

“Maybe. You don't seem to mind.”

Right, he did have a slightly vain side to him that rarely showed up. Leehan pushed your leg down back against the bed frame. Next thing you knew his nose was dangerously close to the wet fabric of your panties, head resting on the inside of your thigh and giving him leverage to take a deep sniff. He couldn't be bothered to choke down the throaty groan that followed just after. A thought broke through his hazy mind. Shit, I really am a perv.

Leehan grabbed the ends of the bows on your underwear, effectively untying them and revealing you to him entirely as soon as he pulled the front piece of fabric away. His hands trembled enough you could notice them shake when he swiped two fingers up the entire length of your hole.

“Shit. Shit, I can't wait any longer, baby.” Leehan stood up and pulled his shirt overhead, normally he thought he'd have asked you to remove his belt but there was no time for that now.

You took it upon yourself to lay flat on the mattress, bunching your dress way up to your tits and squeezing your eyes shut. You heard Leehan take your underwear away, but suspiciously never heard them hit the floor. Part of you couldn't believe you were about to let him inside of you without even having his cock in your hand, another part of you was absolutely exhilarated. He'd never been so eager for something in his life, climbing onto the bed.

Leehan put one hand on your waist, the other coming to grip the base of his cock and slide the tip through your folds just as soon as you have the go ahead. Once he deemed himself sufficiently slick, he lined up with the entrance to your pussy. Only having the tiniest portion of his aching length inside you was driving him nuts already.

Painfully slow, Leehan pushed inside with a grunt. You gasped, only imagining the relief he must be feeling right now.

“Fuck! Fuck- Leehan-” Inch by inch he pressed on. You didn't think it was going to end. “Leehan, too big- I can't take it, no more, Shit-”

When he finally bottomed out, your hands were clawing at the sheets desperately trying to adjust to his length and girth. You didn't know what you expected, but it wasn't this. Meanwhile, Leehan’s strangled moans did nothing to help you calm down. You were so impossibly warm, so tight and wet clenching around Leehan he couldn't believe he didn't lose himself immediately. Thankfully, you managed to keep your eyes open for the final inch, trying to memorize every little detail of Leehan’s face as he processed what it was like to have plush walls pulling him in.

“‘M sorry, sweet girl,” Leehan panted.

“No, no, f-feels incredible.” You rolled your hips, encouraging him to follow suit in thrusting deep inside. “You’re just… biggest I’ve ever had.”

Leehan felt a sense of pride at that, taking your hand to press flat against his chest.

“Baby, you might kill me.”

His heart feverishly hammered in his chest, skipping a beat when you unexpectedly brushed your thumb across his hardened nipple.

“Take your time, my lovely Leehan. Savor it. No need to rush.”

Leehan nodded, allowing himself slow and deliberate thrusts. Everything was just too good. Your moans were better than any music to him, sticky sweet. His heart never calmed a single bit beneath your palm.

Rhythmically, you jolted with every circle of your fingers against your clit. You decided it wouldn't hurt to give your new boyfriend a bit of help this time around. You knew he wouldn't last.

His thrusts progressed rather linear, getting faster and harder by the minute and drawing more panicked moans from his shaking body.

“B-Baby-”

“It's alright, Ihanie. I got you.” You watched him raise his hand to his face, your panties wrapped tightly around his fist. You thought you might've died and gone to heaven. “Cum when you're ready, alright? Inside.”

Leehan didn't reply, but you knew he understood as he instantly began chasing his high with tests pricking his eyes.

In little time at all, Leehan's hips were stuttering regularly, his moans growing pitchier. When you interlaced your fingers with his, it was game over.

“Gonna cum, gonna- Fuck- Y/N, I love this, I love this pussy, my girl-” That's when the tears began to fall. “I love y-you so fucking much, my perfect doll, made for my c-cock, made for me. Shit, I love you!”

With one final thrust, Leehan came with a pathetic cry like you'd never heard, spilling his hot seed as far as he could into you. Your orgasm followed not long after, it was too good for you to even make a sound, your pussy squeezing and milking every last drop of cum from Leehan and leaving him babbling sobbing nonsense until he collapsed on top of you.

Between your own gasps you held his head close to your chest, stroking his hair for comfort.

“It's ok. It's ok, I'm here. Just breathe.” You cooed. “You're alright, did amazing, I love you.”

After a few minutes of nuzzling into you and trying to regain some composure, Leehan laid the softest kisses along whatever part of you he could reach.

“H-hey…”

“Hm, you ok?”

“Can… Can we go again? Wanna do better for you. Gonna get used to it so I can… so I can mold your little pussy to the shape of my cock. Make love to you so good you never even think about another man this way. Mine, mine…” His words devolved into slurred mumbling by the end.

What. The. Fuck. You thought, I've created a monster. I… love it.

“Come on, my love,” Your voice was hoarse already. “We have a lot of work to do. Though, you might want to tell your roomie to stay somewhere else.”

[eveningspirit]

This is a continuation of my response to this ask:

I really dislike the black and white approach I see a lot of people taking when it comes to the Langdon storyline. People seem to be writing him off as simply a no good thief who set out to harm patients, with no wiggle room to even entertain the idea that addiction is a disease and him stealing is a symptom of that. What he did is not acceptable and we know that but it’s also not as simple as “His career is over, he’s done for, good riddance”

The first part, an analysis of "what did Langdon actually steal" (which, mind you, may be proven wrong in any of the remaining four episodes), is linked.

In this essay I shall tackle the concept of "addiction as a disease".

It's a great concept. It is a concept that we not only should consider in fiction, but in real life also. People who are addicted to substances, gambling, watching tv shows (what? 0.0), whathaveyou, should not be considered criminals. Or even bad people. They are ill. They need treatment.

I don't have any personal experience with addiction of any loved one, or... um... myself? I guess? So this is mostly theoretical musing.

I imagine that a person whose loved one, a parent for example, was/is an addict, may have very complicated feelings toward that loved one. It may be love and worry, love and hate, but it may also be just hate. That's normal, that's okay. I want to say this, because in my very theoretical apprach to addiction as a disease, whenever I might say "we should do this", "do that", "help"--I mean WE as a society. Not we, the people who are directly affected by the addict's behavior.

Also. The Pitt is a tv show, and Langdon is a fictional character. It's not real life. Let's remember that.

Now. Let's dive in.

I was deeply hurt by the many comparisons between John Carter's treatment by his peers in ER (twenty-five years ago) and Langdon's treatment in The Pitt. People making those gifsets were calling them "parallells"--only because Noah Wyle is in both scenes. But to me, they read as "contrsts", because of how the accused addict is treated.

How did the show made twenty-five years ago do it better?

I know that we still have several episodes to go in this season, so this storyline may yet become something extraordinary. And maybe that pain I experienced as Langdon's fan is neccessary.

But the problem is, many viewers read what's on screen literally. Langdon lied. Langdon stole. Langdon failed.. who? us? Robby? disappointed us, deserved what he got and worse. To quote one reviewer: "An ER doctor working while being a junkie is purely demonic and disgraceful" (I'm not linking because I don't want to give them traffic). Uh. What?

Let's remember we're seeing this Day in The Pitt through Robby's eyes. He's an unreliable narrator. We don't know what's going on with Langdon. And even based on what we do know--doesn't he deserve some compassion?

I was hurt by Robby ignoring Langdon's calls all hour. Perhaps even more hurt by Dana's, "Dude, you gotta stop calling me!" They rejected him, full stop. Now, I don't know their relationships in this ED. Maybe they are only co-workers and nothing beyond that. But.

Dana was the only person Frank actually shared anything personal with. He talks to everybody, he's funny (some of you may disagree, that's okay), he seems open and talkative, and he sees what's bothering others and gets them to talk (sometimes). But the only truly personal beats, the only personal information we get of him throughout the day--are through Dana. Also, he asks Robby whether they are friends. So I'd say, those are the two people he's close with. The two people he trusts. And they reject him.

So, most of the audience rejects him too.

And maybe that's the point (like my feeling hurt). Maybe this will serve a purpose of reminding the audience that this is not the right way to treat an addict. I'm not saying I think Langdon will overdose and then Robby will feel guilty. This would not be a good lesson for the audience.

No. I think they should bring Langdon back. Have a conversation with him. Show him care and support. Show him the way out of this--through rehab, through therapy, through whatever is needed. Help him get treatment for the disease he has.

Essentially--do the same thing ER did twenty-five years ago. Only do it over the course of six episodes instead of one. Which in itself means they will be doing it better.

(one more part should be written, about what consequences Langdon will / should be facing)

[laststandx3]

i'll be the first to say that Ulf is an idiot, but at the same time he's right. he treats the blacks the way they've never been treated before: as normal people. and it bothers them because they feel themselves above the smallfolks. that people should obey them and be silent when they speak because they're the authority. not only monarch but dragon riders. Ulf is there treating them like they're normal people and they HATE IT. but for how rude and out of place Ulf gets framed and shot when he asks for more wine/food he's the proof of how common people are always in service of the powerfuls' whims. if they didnt need him they wouldnt have him at their table. the court it's a place for people who respect manners and are never annoying. Because we saw how people in kings landing starving and dying how dares he asking for more good food at dinner? doesnt he know he's a guest and he better be grateful with what he has? Because Rhaenyra will make them knights even tho without them she wouldnt even be queen. "We'll be knights...Just like that" he says, because titles are freely given by the queen, yes just like that. How dares he be a little loud at dinner? HOW DARES HE ANSWER RHAENYRA's pretence at politness by keeping her accountable?

"A knight will comport himself with grace at the queen's table"

"Best make me a knight, then"

"You forget yourself...friend" Jace says, and in the background we see the knight of the queen's guard putting a hand on his sword, after his oath of protecting the innocents like Criston Cole reminded us a few minutes before.

you've done things we didnt even know was possible // Remember your place // this war will kill thousands // "will you stay here and make yourself easy? If you hinder our efforts through sloth or unreadiness, I'll see you hanged and your body fed to the dogs in the street" // we want to avoid bloodshed

Now, this is the pick-your-favourite-war-criminal show so i'm not saying the blacks are evil. i'm sure the greens will act just as them. I think it's interesting to see the parallels of in-story propaganda of the crown and their action, that Rhaenyra's waiting to fight was never about avoiding war, but because she knew she'd lost. when you cant stand even the idea of having smallfolk at your table or them dearing to treat you like one of them it was never about saving people's life.

[alongtidesoflight]

i swear my stepdad is so illogical AND stubborn it hurts

[rystiel]

rewatching season 3 for the first time in forever rn and. the doctor and jack make me so sick dude. i feel sooooo unwell about them. like imagine you meet rose and the doctor, these amazing people that you find yourself traveling with and coming to care for, then one day you end up left behind by this man that you trusted, alone and fundamentally changed forever—back from the dead. you wait for over 100 years, searching for him, and when you finally find him you learn that he abandoned you on purpose. that he views you as something wrong, something that he can’t stand to look at. a fixed point, something not meant to exist. this guy that you loved and trusted, telling you all of this right to your face. like that’s crazy

[jackass-jones]

Really into the episode of Ouran where this girl confesses her love to Mori but he doesn’t feel the same because he’s into Honey and the girl’s reaction is just like YIPPEE I LOVE YAOI THATS SO COOL FOR YOU YAY 🥰

[mycenaae]

tw emotional abuse i'm so fucking sick of my grandma.

my grandmother's always been emotionally abusive to my mom but lately it's gotten so much worse because my grandpa's in long-term care and my grandma's dealing with it by lashing out at everyone all the time and she treats my mom like her personal unpaid servant and chauffeur, and most recently guilt-tripped her for not being available to drive my grandma around because she [checks notes] had covid and was self-isolating, so now my mom feels like she can't do anything or go anywhere or, indeed, even be sick without my grandmother guilt-tripping her about it. which is true. my grandma would find any loophole possible to make extenuating circumstances into a case of my mom not being an adequate daughter when in fact it's my grandma who's an abusive narcissist. anyway today pushed me over the edge i don't think i even love my grandma anymore.

[malcolmschmitz]

The Insider and Outsider Detectives

So there's a lot of discourse about detectives floating around, ever since 2020 shifted a lot of people's Views on the police. Everyone likes a good mystery story, but no one seems to know what to make of a detective protagonist- especially if they're a cop. And everyone who cares about this kind of thing likes to argue over whether detective stories hold up the existing order or subvert it. Are they inherently copaganda? Are they subversive commentary on the uselessness of the police?

I think they can be both. And I think there's a framework we can use to look at individual detectives, and their stories, that illuminates the space between "a show like LAPD straight-up exists to make the cops look good" and "Boy Detective is a gender to me, actually".

So. You can sort most detectives in fiction into two boxes, based on their role in society: the Insider Detective and the Outsider Detective.

The Insider Detective is a part of the society they're investigating in, and has access to at least some of the levers of power in that society. They can throw money at their problems, or call in reinforcements, and if they contact the authorities, those authorities will take them seriously. Even the people they're investigating usually treat them with respect. They're a nice normal person in a nice normal world, thank you very much; they're not particularly eccentric. You could describe them as "sensible". And crime is a threat to that normal world. It's an intrusion that they have to fight off. An Insider Detective solving a crime is restoring the way things ought to be.

Some clear-cut examples of Insider Detectives are the Hardy Boys (and their father Fenton), Soichiro "Light's Dad" Yagami, or Father Brown. Many police procedural detectives are Insider Detectives, though not all.

The Outsider Detective, in contrast, is not a part of the society they're investigating in. They're often a marginalized person- they're neurodivergent, or elderly, or foreign, or a woman in a historical setting, or a child. They don't have access to any of the levers of power in their world- the authorities may not believe them (and might harass them), the people they're investigating think they're a joke (and can often wave them off), and they're unlikely to have access to things like "a forensics lab". The Outsider Detective is not respectable, and not welcome here- and yet they persist and solve the crime anyway. A lot of the time, when an Outsider Detective solves a crime, it's less "restoring the world to its rightful state" and more "exposing the rot in the normal world, and forcing it to change."

Some clear-cut examples of Outsider Detectives are Dirk Gently, Philip Marlowe, Sammy Keyes, or Mello from Death Note.

Now, here's the catch: these aren't immutable categories, and they are almost never clear-cut. The same detective can be an Insider Detective in one setting and an Outsider Detective in another. A good writer will know this, and will balance the two to say something about power and society.

Tumblr's second-favourite detective Benoit Blanc is a great example of this. Theoretically, Mr. Blanc should be an Insider Detective- he's a world-famous detective, he collaborates with the police, he's odd but respectable. But because of the circumstances he's in- investigating the ultra-rich, who live in their own horrid little bubbles- he comes off as the Outsider Detective, exposing the rot and helping everyone get what they deserve. And that's deliberate. There is no world where a nice, slightly eccentric, mildly fruity, fairly privileged guy like Benoit Blanc should be an outsider. But the turbo-rich live in such an insular world, full of so much contempt for anyone who isn't Them, that even Benoit Blanc gets left out in the cold. It's a scathing political statement, if you think about it.

But even a writer who isn't trying to Say Something About The World will still often veer between making their detective an Insider Detective and an Outsider Detective, because you can tell different kinds of stories within those frameworks. Jessica Fletcher from Murder She Wrote is a really good example of this-- she's a respectable older lady, whose runaway success as a mystery novelist gives her access to some social cachet. Key word: some.

Within her hometown of Cabot Cove, Fletcher is an Insider Detective. She's good friends with the local sheriff, she's incredibly familiar with the town's social dynamics, she can call in a favour from basically anyone... but she's still a little old lady. The second she leaves town, she might run into someone who likes her books... but she's just as likely to run into a police officer who thinks she's crazy or a perp who thinks she's an easy target. She has the incredibly tenuous social power that belongs to a little old lady that everyone likes- and when that's gone, she's incredibly vulnerable.

This is also why a lot of Sherlock Holmes adaptations tend to be so... divisive. Holmes is all things to all people, and depending on which stories you choose to focus on, you can get a very different detective. If you focus on the stories where Holmes collaborates with the police, on the stories with that very special kind of Victorian racism, or the stories where Holmes is fighting Moriarty, you've got an Insider Detective. If you focus on the stories where Holmes is consulting for a Nice Young Lady, on the stories where Holmes' neurodivergence is most prominent, or on his addictions, you've got an Outsider Detective.

Finally, a lot of buddy detective stories have an Insider Detective and an Outsider Detective sharing the spotlight. Think Scully and Mulder, or Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde. This lets the writer play with both pieces of the thematic puzzle at the same time, without sacrificing the consistency of their detective's character.

Back to my original point: if you like detective fiction, you probably like one kind of story better than the other. I know I personally really prefer Outsider Detective Stories to Insider Detective Stories- and while I can enjoy a good Insider Detective (I'd argue that Brother Cadfael, my beloved, is one most of the time), I seek out detectives who don't quite fit into the world they live in more often than not.

And if that's the vibe you're looking for... you're not going to run into a lot of police stories. It's absolutely possible to make a story where a cop (or, even better, an FBI agent) is an Outsider Detective-- Nick Angel from Hot Fuzz was originally going to be one of my 'clear-cut examples' until I remembered that he is, in fact, legally a cop! But a cop who's an Outsider Detective is going to be spending a lot of time butting heads with local law enforcement, to the point where he doesn't particularly feel like one. He's probably going to get fired at some point, and even if his badge gets reinstated, he's going to struggle with his place in the world. And a lot of Outsider Detective stories where the detective is a cop or an FBI agent are intensely political, and not in a conservative way- they have Things To Say about small towns, clannishness, and the injustice that can happen when a Pillar Of The Community does something wrong and everyone looks the other way. (Think Twin Peaks or The Wicker Man.)

Does this mean Insider Detective Stories are Bad Copaganda and Outsider Detective Stories are Good Revolutionary Stories? No. If you take one thing away from this post, please make it that these categories are morally neutral. There are Outsider Detective stories about cops who are Outsiders because they really, really want an excuse to shoot people. There are Insider Detective stories about little old people who are trying to keep misapplied justice from hurting the kids in their community. Neither of these types of stories are good or bad on their own. They're different kinds of storytelling framework and they serve different purposes.

But, if you find yourself really gravitating to certain kinds of mysteries and really put off by other kinds, and you're trying to express why, this might be a framework that's useful for you. If your gender is Boy Detective, but you absolutely loathe cop stories? This might be why.

(PS: @anim-ttrpgs was posting about their game Eureka again, and that got me to make this post- thank them if you're happy to finally see it. Eureka is designed as an Outsider Detective simulator, and so the rules actively forbid you from playing as a cop- they're trying to make it so that you have limited resources and have to rely on your own competence. It's a fantastic looking game and I can't recommend it enough.)

(PPS: I'm probably going to come back to this once I finish Psycho-Pass with my partner, because they said I'd probably have Thoughts.)

(PPPS: Encyclopedia Brown is an Insider Detective, and that's why no one likes him. This is my most controversial detective take.)

[queeniewithabeanie]

The Blob

Dpxdc Prompt #20

Danny is a blob ghost now and he's fine with that.

Turns out all blob ghosts are just regular ghosts who have expended to much energy and turn into balls of pure ectoplasm and emotion to recharge.

It's honestly a much needed and much appreciated vacation from all of his responsibilities.

He doesn't understand why he's getting so many worship-fear-cowed emotions from these people, but he's a blob right now, he doesn't have to care.

There's one boy that constantly projects awed-love-infatuated towards him. Danny likes him a lot more than all of the other guys.

In the mean time, Ra's Al Ghul has just found what he believes to be the conscious personification of the Lazarus Pits and there is no way he is going to let any of his assassins offend it. If only he didn't have to worry about his grandson being so enamored with the being as well.

Grandfather never let Damian have any pets.

"Distractions," he would say, "Unnecessary attachments."

Damian disagreed, but he was smart enough not to voice his belief. The Demon Head's word is law and he bows to nobody.

Or at least... nobody until the little blob of sentient Lazarus Water.

Grandfather says that it must be the pits personified and therefore needed to be treated with respect so there would be no chance of them being taken away.

Damian has no problem following this rule, he finds the little blob cute, like the pet Damian would never get to have. When nobody's watching he pets the blob, tells it stories about his day, and stays silent as it does happy little purrs.

In the hell that is Nanba Parbat, the blob is a bright spot in Damian's days.

So obviously when he leaves to meet his Father and claim his right as heir to the Cowl he slips the blob into his go-bag. No one will notice, the blob normally floats around as it wishes, sometimes going missing for hours.

By the time Grandfather realizes the blob has been away too long for it to have been without intervention it will have been too late. No one will suspect that Damian took the blob with him.

At least, that's what Damian tells himself to justify taking the little guy with him. He is comforted by the low hum in his bag, the blob is happy, if no one else.

[readwritealldayallnight]

Yours, Mine, Ours

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

wc: 1.5k words

warnings/tags: fluff

“So did the other two actually say no or did you just never invite them?”

“‘Course I invited them, you asked me to, so I did.” Simon replies with ease, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead of him. “They’re smart lads, lovie, they knew to say no all by themselves.”

You shake your head at him in disbelief but the smile that’s been plastered across your face ever since the two of you pulled out of your flat’s parking doesn’t budge. Simon’s been driving for a few hours now, and as stressful of an experience as that is alone, you’re too excited to mind the long journey in the car.

Simon is on leave for the next two weeks, something about Price having to attend a funeral following a death in the family, and deciding that everyone on the force was due for a bit of time off. Seeing as the Captain was going to be preoccupied during his time off duty, he had asked if Simon wouldn’t mind checking in on his house for him, making sure things were alright. He’d even offered for the two of you to stay in the guest room for the duration of their leave.

Simon had explained how Price knew that the two of you were living in a small flat in London, and apparently his home was in a beautiful, forested, isolated area which meant he had essentially no neighbours, something he also knew would appeal to Simon. He offered for the two of you to stretch your legs out there at enjoy the property, including the privacy that came with it.

Wanting to be polite, you’d told Simon he should extend the invitation to Soap and Gaz, thinking they might enjoy a nice, quiet stay-cation as well at their Captain’s place away from it all. It would appear your lover had different ideas in mind however. Though you couldn’t blame him entirely, the thought of having the cozy cabin all to yourselves was certainly more appealing.

Every which way you look outside the car, your vision is filled by endless blurry trees as you zoom by, the colours of the leaves having finally changed into the warmer, more vibrant colour palette that came along with the autumn chill. If the drive up to his property was any indication of how beautiful the area really was, then you were in for quite the treat.

Entranced by the beauty of the landscape in comparison to the city lights you’ve grown so used to, you fail to notice the glances Simon keeps sneaking your way, the smallest of satisfied smiles seemingly permanently etched upon his face beneath his balaclava. He was grateful that after explaining the situation and Price’s generous offer to you, you had been too excited to ask many questions, instead getting a jump start on packing a duffel bag or two.

You were one of the most intelligent, clever, curious people he’d ever known, and it was normally quite difficult to get anything by you. He was therefore feeling rightfully proud of himself as he drove you nearer and nearer to the home you believed belonged to his Captain. In actuality, there was no funeral for Price to attend, the sergeants had certainly not been invited along on your getaway, and the home you’d be staying in wasn’t Price’s.

It was yours.

Yours, and Simon’s.

The two of you had been living in that shoebox of a flat he’d considered as ‘satisfactory’ when he was only staying there as a bachelor, for far too long. As ideal as the location might have been, there simply just wasn’t enough space for two people to live together, even considering Simon’s absences for work and that fact that when he was home, you two were essentially always on top of one another anyways.

You’d both been searching for a new flat for what felt like ages now, none of the places you visited feeling like the right fit. Simon would be weary about a certain neighborhood, you’d be concerned with the lack of any balcony or outdoor space, he’d ignore the price tag that felt your eyes bulging, and you’d shake your head as you walked through doorways that had him needing to duck down.

Little did you know, Simon had been doing his own house hunting, outside of the city. You had told Simon you were fine with staying in London, understanding that it’s convenient to have everything near by. But Simon didn’t want to give you just ‘fine’. He wanted to give you a home. The home he intends to spend the rest of his life with you in, plans on carrying you over the threshold in your wedding dress, hopes to carry sleeping newborns in their car seats through the door.

For months now, Simon has subtlety been learning more about what that home looked like to you. He’d look over your shoulder as you scrolled through Pinterest, casually asking if you could show him your boards, you know just for fun, and paid very close attention when you showed him the one named ‘future house’. On his phone, he had a list a mile long in his notes app, from secretly writing down every comment you made while watching your home reno shows. He’ll casually ask you what you think of the houses you drive by, jotting down your answers in his mind, remembering likes and dislikes.

He believes that like you, it’s the people filling the home that matter more than the structure itself, as proven by the way you continue to put up with his minuscule flat. He knows you mean it when you say you’re alright with another flat. But he has the money goddammit, he has the means to do this for you, and when the listing came up for a home in what you’d revealed as being your ideal area to settle down in one day, the house resembling the amalgamation of everything he believed you’d described as being your perfect place, he knew he had to put an offer in.

And if there ever was anything about the house you didn’t like or wanted to change, he’d gladly do it for you, no questions asked. You want to paint the bedroom? Just tell him what colour you want. You want to change the railing on the wrap around porch? He’s on his way to the hardware store already. You need him to dig a stump out of the backyard to make room for your garden? Sit back and enjoy the show lovie, he’s on it. And when the time comes to build a crib? Well he may as well baby proof the whole house while he’s at it too.

He’s pictured your reaction a thousand times over in his mind. He imagines you’ll maybe give a small gasp when he turns the corner of the long driveway and you first see the cozy, two-storey home, surrounded by never-ending foliage of red, orange, and yellow leaves, the time of year perfect for appreciating autumn in the UK, as well as the privacy the tall trees grant you. He thinks the first thing you’ll comment on will likely be the windows, an item high on your priority list he knew to adhere to.

He imagines you kicking off your boots as you step through the door, pace quickening to explore every room, spinning in the kitchen as you joke about how jealous you are of Price. He pictures you groaning with envy when you spot your dream master bathroom, insisting to Simon that since you’d been tasked with checking in on the home you may as well see every room, right? He plans to explain away the obvious sparseness of the home as the Captain not having lived here long, as being very non-materialistic after all his years in service.

He’ll continue to play along for as long as he can, part of him knowing that you know him well enough that you’re likely to catch onto his deception at some point. However he hopes that before you start rummaging through kitchen cabinets and find them empty, too empty even for an absentee captain of a homeowner, that you’ll mention something along the lines of wishing you could stay here longer. That’s when he plans to slip a key into the palm of your hand, revealing that you might be able to stay longer than you believe.

The small piece of metal that’ll unlock the rest of your lives together, sits heavy in his pocket, in contrast to the light feeling in his heart when his hand reaches across the dashboard to grab a hold of yours, knowing that the content, lovesick smile you offer him is likely stretched across his face as well, staring right back at you.

Though you’re unaware that Simon is currently driving towards your home, and not away from it, you’re gently stroking the scarred skin across his hand, feeling as though your home is sitting right next to you, holding your hand and your heart at the same time.

[masterhallmark]

Rant incoming

I feel like the problem with a lot of Disney's live action remakes (and arguably Wish) is they're trying to appeal to a crowd that no longer exists, namely the people who used to claim that the Disney Princesses were sexist.

All the interviews tend to include, "Well she's not chasing a MAN anymore" which...almost no one sees the princesses like that, anymore. Virtually NO ONE still believes the princesses are man-chasing sexist caricatures of women.

Cinderella is now hailed as an abuse victim who stayed strong long enough to get help to get out of her situation. Anyone who says she should have saved herself is basically regarded as a victim blamer. And it's very clear in the film she wasn't looking to marry the prince, she just wanted a night off. She was the only one who wasn't in line to meet him. She didn't find out she met the prince until he went looking for her!

Snow White is now hailed for her negotiation skills, ability to calm down after extreme stress (she had a moment of panic and had to cry for a bit, but who wouldn't after finding out The Queen hired someone to kill you?), and ability to take charge of a house of adult men. And again, she was an abuse victim, this time trying to escape ASSASSINATION ATTEMPTS. While she dreamed of her prince, it was secondary to her main goal of SURVIVAL. There are also entire video essays about how Snow White gave hope to people during The Great Depression.

Everyone acknowledges that Ariel wanted to be human BEFORE meeting Eric. We all know she was a nerd hyperfixating on humans, and also standing up to her prejudiced father.

We understand Sleeping Beauty wasn't the main character, the Three Good Fairies were, AND PHILLIP WOULD NEVER HAVE BEATEN MALEFICENT WITHOUT THEM! He literally depended on them! WOMEN SAVED THE DAY! But even then, is it really such a sin for a girl to fantasize about romance and fall for someone with corny pickup lines?

We all understand Jasmine just wanted someone to treat her LIKE A PERSON. She rejected every Prince before Aladdin because they treated her like a prize. So why did they need her to want to be Sultan? How did that make her more feminist when she already wanted to be treated like an equal and have a say in her future? Is it only empowering if you want a career in politics?

We admire that Belle, despite living in a judgemental village, was kind to everyone (even though she found the village life dull), and her story teaches girls that the guy everyone else loves isn't always a good guy. What's sexist about teaching girls about red flags? And she didn't start being nice to The Beast until he started treating her with respect and kindness.

Do I really NEED to defend Mulan or Tiana? I think they speak for themselves.

Rapunzel was yet another abuse victim who just needed a little help to get out of her bad situation. In this case, she also needed to learn that she was an abuse victim, and that what Mother Gothel did WASN'T normal, much like many victims of gaslighting.

And don't get me started on the non-princess animals.

Perdita had a healthy relationship with Pongo to the point she was open to express her pregnancy fears to him, and was ready to TEAR APART Cruella's goons for daring to touch her puppies as well as adopting the other puppies. Like, she was so ferocious the goons mistook her for a hyena! She's basically that "I AM THAT GIRL'S MOTHER!" scene from SpyXFamily if Yor were a dog. She and her husband were a TEAM.....but they made a Cruella live action to turn her into a girlboss?! The literal animal abuser!? THAT'S the woman you wanted to put on a pedestal when Perdita was RIGHT THERE!?

Duchess kept her kittens calm after they had been catnapped and was classy as heck. Nice to everyone regardless of social class during a time period where that was uncommon.

Lady stood up to Tramp when she believed he had abandoned her and didn't really care about her. She found out he was a heartbreaker and was like, "Nuh uh. No. You are not doing that to me! You put me through enough."

Miss Bianca from The Rescuers was IN CHARGE the whole movie, and was willing to risk life and limb to save an innocent child. THAT TINY MOUSE TOOK ON ALLIGATORS! And she picked Bernard to accompany her because he was the only one who wasn't ogling her. And then in the sequel SHE DID IT ALL AGAIN! I wish I were as brave as her.

Like, the public haven't accused these ladies of being sexist caricatures since 2014 (Actresses and actors don't count, they're out of touch like the rest of Hollywood) yet Disney is operating under the assumption that the public still thinks that way, hence all the "sHe'S nOt AfTeR a MaN iN ThIs VeRsIOn" talk.

The live action remakes are trying to attract an audience that doesn't really exist much, anymore, and back when it did exist, was comprised mainly of people who didn't actually watch the films. The Disney princesses are no longer seen as sexist, and feminine qualities are no longer seen as weak or undesirable.

[thatdiabolicalfeminist]

I've been messaging with a 17yo kid from Gaza, named Nader.

When I asked what he wanted people to know about his family's situation, he immediately answered "the bitter cold".

His other answer was about how incredibly expensive everything is in Gaza right now. Here's context: https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2024/10/16/how-much-does-food-cost-in-gaza

Can you imagine being in this situation? Made homeless where the stores are no longer getting consistent deliveries and might be bombed, the government is barely operating cuz it keeps getting bombed, there's not even charity getting into your besieged area, and most people's jobs—including your big brother's—have been bombed beyond repair?

Where it's getting so cold and you CAN'T get warm because you're relying on strangers to help you get that coat or blanket, or bc you need the little money that trickles in to just survive??

And can you imagine living this way for OVER A YEAR as a normal teenager who has a little brother and a baby niece with malnutrition to stress about too?

I know people are tired of hearing about Gaza. It's upsetting that this genocide has continued so long with so few powerful people even trying to stop it. But we have a responsibility to our fellow humans, to help them survive persecution.

Nader is seventeen. None of this should be on his shoulders. Please help his family be safe so he can stop feeling like it's his job to make sure his family has what they need.

This campaign was verified as authentic by gazavetters (#4 on this spreadsheet), which I have seen Palestinians I trust cite as a trusted source.

Can you give up one treat this week to help Nader's family have the basics?

If you donate at least $10 and comment on this post with proof, I'll record a silly voice message for you or draw you a post it note doodle!

Please also consider following @abdalsalam1990, the tumblr account this family is using to try to raise funds, as a reminder to yourself to share the campaign or contribute in the future.

Tagging usernames off the top of my head in hopes you'll share this fundraiser; please message me if you don't want to be tagged in things like this, or if I didn't tag you but you DO want to be tagged in posts like this.

Edit edit: thank you @transmutationisms for teaching me how tagging works 😅 i've only been on this site 10 years lmao

@wizardarchetypes @herpsandbirds @brattylikestoeat @tearsofrefugees @milf--adjacent

@vampiricvenus @mostly-funnytwittertweets @sweatermuppet @mostlysignssomeportents @probablyasocialecologist

@timequangle @repotting @robertreich @antifainternational @dlxxv-vetted-donations

[backinmyphase]

Part 1

Thinking about how obsessed King of Curses Sukuna is with you, you, who was originally just a gift from a village.

Lord Sukuna, who is oblivious to the reason why he treats you differently, who thinks you are just the most intriguing person he had seen in years. He didn't know it was over for him the moment he saw your standing there, anger obvious behind your loosely mask. You looked at him with these challenging eyes and raised your head, making that snappy comment. Normally he would have killed you right then and there.

But he didn't. In fact he doesn't even know why he had burned down that village for you.

And now you were sitting in his estate, always with that scowl on your face.

Why did he allow you to eat with him? Why did he order you to eat with him? He doesn't know. But he didn't want you to eat without him, which he just can't explain to himself.

He couldn't explain why he made sure Uraume was watching over you. Didn't know why he gave you your own chamber, so many new clothes and why he gave you permission to go inside his library. Something inside him was just telling him that was right.

And that something inside of him was so angry to see you falling into yourself. To see you neglecting your health over weeks.

It was evening.

Like always, there was a big dinner prepared for the king and he had ordered you to eat with him. But you didn't touch your food, no you just sat there, looking at your plate to avoid his gaze. Oh, he didn't like that.

He stopped eating, narrowing his eyes on your cowering figure. "Why are you not eating."

"Not hungry." your voice was hoarse but still snappy like always.

"You need to eat."

He glanced at Uraume, who shook their head. A silent note you didn't have any sickness.

You picked at the food, but still no sign of actual eating. And god, did it drive him crazy. You were driving him crazy. Your never leaving scowl and your constant denying of everything he had laid out. He just didn't get you.

He didn't know why he even bothered. But he still spoke up.

"What is on your mind?"

You looked up at him. There was no scowl, like he thought, no there was just a shimmer of exhaustion and maybe frustration.

"What am I even doing here, my Lord?" your voice didn't have any sharp in it. "I'm no servant for you, no concubine, not even a jester or anything like that. Why am I here?"

Silence flooded the room. Because you had just asked the question Sukuna asked himself every day. Why did he even bring you here?

He was clueless. Or that was what his brain was telling him.

He inspected you, your almost pleading eyes and he didn't like how you looked at him. He didn't like the almost hopeless look in your eyes.

"Did you want to stay with these people, is it that?" he took a sip of wine.

"No, we both know it's not that." you muttered, taking a deep breath. "Why do I not work for you? Why are you so -"

He raised an eyebrow at you as you struggled to find the right word. Then you finally shook your head.

"Why are you so nice to me?"

He couldn't help but chuckle, a grin following. "You mean, why has the King of Curses not killed me yet?"

You scoffed. "Yes."

"Well you see," he stopped for a moment, before speaking again. "I find you fascinating. And I like to know what I find fascinating."

You rolled your eyes, another thing he only liked when you did it. "So I'm here to be watched like an animal because the King finds me exotic, how kind."

He started to grow impatient, he didn't know why. "You think I would let a meekly animal into my library and give them their own chambers? You think lowly of me."

You started to blink at him, confusion visible on your face. It was his turn to scoff now.

"You're fascinating because I don't get you. And I want to know you. That's why I brought you here." At least that's what he thought.

You turned completely silent, your eyes now looking down onto your plate again.

"That's why you don't 'work' for me, I don't want you to. I don't need you to." he took another sip. "You just shouldn't get your hands dirty."

He looked at you, waiting for a response. Watching how you avoided his gaze, how you gulped. For a second your eyes flicked up to look at him, but went down immediately as your eyes meet his.

"Stop." you were muttering again.

"What?"

"Staring at me like that."

"Why?" He grinned, lowering his voice. "You know I like to stare."

He saw a faint tint of blush on the part of your face he could see. You were silent for a while until you cleared your throat. "I can't eat with you staring at me like that."

. . .

"Alright, I can leave you alone to eat." he stood up. "But you have to now. Eat."

A small chuckle escaped you. "Is that an order?"

"No, it's a request." With that he turned around, leaving to go to his chambers.

You waited til he left the room to breathe. Your body finally relaxing. You looked at Uraume.

"He sounds like he is in... Does he know how he sounds?"

Uraume shook their head. "No, he has no clue. But he wants you to eat, so please do."

@thequeenofcurses

[simp4fictionalmenandjesus]

Yandere platonic batfamily with a ‘definition of average reader.’

You’ve always been a low-key background character type person. Your grades were normal, every report card since you started getting report cards are all filled with B’s. At school, you’re not popular or unpopular. You have a close group of friends, and know a few people from outside of school. You play a sport, but don’t exceed at it.

The only thing that wasn’t average about you was your family.

Gotham’s sweetheart, Bruce Wayne, adopted you when you were 12 for IDK WHAT REASON HE JUST DID OKAY?????? Anyways. You were the normal amount of awkward that a 12 year old is in the face of their new family.

At your first official family dinner you sat between your older brother Dick and older sister Cass. (Yes, Alfred did strategically plan the seating so the most amicable people would be next to you.) Dick Ames you about school, your friends, your hobbies and all that jazz.

Now, you’d think a table full of vigilantes who have faced off against Gods, traveled the universe, made leaps of technology, and regularly interact with aliens and creatures of myth would be a bit bored when hearing about your math class and a new tv show you were watching. However, the fact that you’re biggest life problems was learning algebra made you seem somewhat precious in their eyes.

So they listen, and they watch, and they become more invested in your life, then, in you.

When Dick’s in town he picks you up from school and brings you to get a sweet treat while asking you about your school day. Unfortunately for the vigilante, he’s not stationed in Gotham so he’ll have to settle for face time calls. Sometimes it’s surprising how much he remembers from your past rambles. You swear he lost have a recording device in his brain, when you bring thay up to him, he laughs, ruffles your hair and glances at the tiny scar behind your ear.

Jason, on the other hand, insists on taking you out for outings, thought he always insists that you plan them. He asks you to bring him to your favourite places and you always comply, taking him to the street food stand where you go with your friends to buy snacks after school, or the manor’s own gardens where Jason will carry you on his shoulders to get a closer look at whatever caught your eyes in a tree. And sure, it’s kind of weird that he already knows the most efficient way to drive to those places before asking you, but he told you he just knew Gotham well.

The brother you see least is Tim seeing as he spends a lot of his time at the office or his own apartment and doesn’t particularly like going on outings much. However, you do text Tim the most. Updating him on random things as he does the same. It is a bit surprising when he texts you to stop picking your fingers in class, but when you ask him how he knows, he’ll claim it’s his sixth sense.

The brother you see most is Damian. Though he’s the one you talk to least. It’s kind of like he’s a shadow following you around. When you start attending Gotham Academy, he’ll sit with you every lunch time just listening to you talk. At the Manor, he’ll let you study in his room while he does art. All the conversations you have with him are mostly one sided with only slight nods to indicate he’s listening. When you ask why he doesn’t talk much he says that he isn’t use to saying nice things to siblings. You (correctly) assume that he doesn’t have friends and treat him extra kindly, sure, you haven’t been able to hangout with your friends at the academy lately but Damian’s family, so he gets priority, right?

Bruce isn’t too sure on how to raise you. When he suggested to his sons that they should tell you about them being vigilantes, all four refused. So, for once, the Batman didn’t really know what to do. Sure, the hundreds of parenting books he read placed emphasise on boundaries and not invading his kids privacy, but in a place like Gotham, Bruce had to be much more hands on. He has a tracker on ALL his kids, so what’s the harm of having one on you? He’s just a worried father.

The family’s yandere-ness boils over after Gotham Academy gets invaded by a group of thugs. Damian stays by you the whole time while the rest of your family, in costume, easily dispose of the thugs. You really didn’t get harmed at all, so when Bruce pulls you out of school you’re a bit shocked. Even if you can understand his worries, you explain to Bruce that you were okay and school was important to you. The conversation ends with an argument.

See, the thing with the bats is that they’re not normal at all. So the arguments that the family is used to ends with bloodshed or leaving the country. They don’t want you to hurt you but they also really don’t want you to try leaving.

The manor has a lot of stairs. Even thought Alfred can clean every corner of the manor perfectly, he won’t always know when there’s a mess. It’s rainy season as well, Titus likes rolling around in the puddles outside. So a wet trail on the stairs isn’t too absurd. Plus, it’s early in the morning, you’re a bit groggy. So when you tumbled down the stairs and break your leg, it’s not too crazy of a situation.

————————-

Posting for now but might rewrite i was tweaking when I wrote this late at night, i confused myself and I def lost the plot a lil oops

[amirasainz]

What about reader is a team principal of a team and every driver and there girlfriend are obsessed with her?

Hahaha, omg this is so funny.

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo

Obvious

The world of Formula 1 was unforgiving, relentless, and absolutely cutthroat. But there was one anomaly in the paddock that no one could quite figure out: Y/N, the 22-year-old team principal of McLaren. Her rapid rise to the top was a story everyone whispered about, but no one dared to challenge.

She was brilliant, tenacious, and had an air of authority that made her presence impossible to ignore. But what truly set her apart was the way she unknowingly had every driver—and their girlfriends—wrapped around her finger. They were utterly, hopelessly obsessed with her, and Y/N remained blissfully unaware, thinking it was just the normal way people treated their boss.

Exhibit 1: Dinner with George and Carmen

It was a rare off-day between races, and Y/N found herself in London at George’s request. The Mercedes driver had insisted on taking her out to dinner with his girlfriend Carmen joining them.

“I’m glad you agreed to come, Y/N,” George smiled as he pulled out a chair for her. “You’ve been working way too hard.”

Carmen leaned in, her eyes sparkling with admiration. “Yes, you need to relax sometimes. You’re always so busy.”

Y/N chuckled, feeling a bit flustered by their attention. “Thanks, guys, but it’s all part of the job, right? I mean, this season has been crazy.”

George leaned closer, casually placing his hand on the back of her chair, his fingers brushing against her shoulder. “You’re the youngest team principal in F1 history, Y/N. You’re allowed to take a break now and then. Let us take care of you tonight.”

Carmen nodded in agreement, her hand gently squeezing Y/N’s arm. “We wouldn’t want you burning out, would we?”

Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth that she couldn’t quite place. “You guys are too sweet. I’m just trying to keep up, you know?”

The dinner passed with easy laughter and conversation, and Y/N was too busy enjoying herself to notice how both George and Carmen kept finding excuses to touch her—a hand on her arm here, a brush of fingers there. It was as if they couldn’t bear to be too far away from her.

---

Exhibit 2: A Mallorcan Escape with Carlos and Rebecca

The invitation had been impossible to refuse. Carlos had insisted on whisking Y/N away to Mallorca for a weekend of sun, relaxation, and good company. Rebecca was there too, constantly checking in to make sure Y/N was enjoying herself.

“This place is incredible,” Y/N said as she stepped out onto the balcony of their luxury villa, the Mediterranean Sea sparkling in the distance.

Carlos grinned, his hand resting comfortably on her lower back as he guided her to the sun lounger. “You deserve a break, Y/N. You’re always taking care of everyone else.”

Rebecca handed Y/N a cold drink, her smile warm and sincere. “Exactly. It’s our turn to look after you.”

Y/N blushed, sipping the drink as she looked out at the waves. “You guys are too nice. Honestly, I’m fine.”

Carlos laughed, sitting down beside her and casually resting his arm across the back of her chair, his fingers lightly grazing her shoulder. “Nice has nothing to do with it, Y/N. We just really enjoy spending time with you.”

Rebecca nodded, her hand resting on Y/N’s knee in a gesture that was both comforting and possessive. “We wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Y/N just smiled, thinking how lucky she was to have friends like them, completely missing the way both Carlos and Rebecca watched her every move with an intensity that went far beyond simple friendship.

---

Exhibit 3: Shopping Spree with Pierre and Kika

Y/N had never been a big shopper, but when Pierre and Kika insisted on a shopping trip in Milan, she couldn’t say no. The day was a blur of designer stores, laughter, and playful teasing.

“You’d look amazing in this,” Kika said, holding up a sleek black dress against Y/N.

Pierre nodded in agreement, his hand resting comfortably on Y/N’s waist as he leaned in to inspect the dress. “Try it on. We’re not leaving until you do.”

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. “You guys are relentless. I’m supposed to be the boss, remember?”

Pierre smirked, giving her a light nudge toward the dressing room. “Not today, Y/N. Today, you’re our princess.”

Kika giggled, grabbing Y/N’s hand and dragging her along. “Exactly. And our princess needs a new wardrobe.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh as she tried on outfit after outfit, completely unaware of the way Pierre’s eyes lingered on her every time she emerged from the dressing room, or how Kika’s hand never left hers for long.

---

Exhibit 4: Movie Night with Max and Kelly

It was a cozy night in Monaco, and Max had convinced Y/N to come over for a low-key movie night. Kelly had made popcorn, and the three of them were snuggled up on the couch.

“You’ve been working too hard again,” Kelly said, her voice soft as she adjusted the blanket around Y/N’s shoulders. “You need to relax.”

Max nodded, his arm stretched along the back of the couch, his fingers gently playing with the ends of Y/N’s hair. “Yeah, you need to slow down sometimes. You’re making us all look bad.”

Y/N laughed, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. “Oh, please. You guys are the ones driving the cars at insane speeds every weekend.”

Max grinned, his hand dropping to rest on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. “And you’re the one making all the tough calls. That’s way more stressful.”

Kelly leaned in closer, her head resting lightly against Y/N’s. “We’re just glad you’re here. We love spending time with you.”

Y/N smiled, thinking how comforting it was to have Max and Kelly around. She missed the way Max’s thumb traced circles on her shoulder and the way Kelly’s fingers intertwined with hers under the blanket, as if they were afraid to let her go.

---

Exhibit 5: Yacht Day with Charles and Alexandra

When Charles invited Y/N out on his yacht, she thought it would be a casual day in the sun. But from the moment she stepped on board, she realized she was in for something far more luxurious.

“This is… wow,” Y/N breathed, taking in the sight of the pristine white yacht against the crystal blue waters of the French Riviera.

Charles smiled, his hand lingering on the small of her back as he guided her to a sunbed. “Only the best for our favorite team principal.”

Alexandra appeared with drinks, offering one to Y/N with a bright smile. “You deserve this, Y/N. You never take time for yourself.”

Y/N settled onto the sunbed, feeling the warmth of the sun and the company of her friends. “You guys are always spoiling me. I’m really not that special.”

Charles chuckled, leaning back beside her, his leg brushing against hers. “Oh, but you are, Y/N. You’re the heart of the paddock.”

Alexandra nodded in agreement, her hand resting comfortably on Y/N’s as they basked in the sun. “And we all adore you.”

Y/N blushed, not quite understanding why they were always so kind, but grateful all the same.

---

Exhibit 6: Golfing with Alex and Lily

Golf wasn’t Y/N’s sport, but when Alex and Lily insisted on a day out on the greens, she couldn’t say no. The trio laughed their way through the course, with Alex playfully showing Y/N how to swing properly, his hands guiding hers.

“You’ve got this, Y/N,” Alex said, his chest pressed against her back as he adjusted her stance. “Just focus.”

Y/N laughed, her cheeks flushed from the proximity. “You make it look so easy.”

Lily watched them with a knowing smile, resting her hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “You’ll get the hang of it. You’re already a pro at everything else.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to concentrate as Alex’s touch sent an unexpected thrill through her. “You guys are way too nice to me.”

Alex and Lily exchanged a look, one that Y/N missed entirely as she tried to focus on her swing. They were both addicted to her presence, to the way she brightened every room she walked into.

---

As the season went on, Y/N continued to be the center of attention in ways she never quite understood. Every driver and their partners found excuses to spend time with her, to touch her, to keep her close. And though she often felt overwhelmed by their affection, she chalked it up to just having great friends in the paddock.

But to everyone else, it was clear: Y/N wasn’t just a team principal. She was the object of an unspoken obsession, the one person they all couldn’t bear to be without. And whether she realized it or not, they were all just a little bit in love with her.

[beloveds-embrace]

hi, this idea kind of comforts me but it makes you feel uncomfy just ignore this request.

but since you do poly 141, I was thinking of a fic where reader comes from a bad abusive family but she doesn't talk about it and thinks it's normal. and the 141 tries to get angry/frustrated with her because they are concerned for the fact she is fine with people treating her badly or not prioritising herself they come to realise it's just how she thinks. and they remind her that she now doesn't have to survive and fade into a background or is a burden and that she can live and be happy.

i know it sounds complicated and specific but I kinda have this really serene picture in my head that if that happens everything will fine AHAHA idk. but again if this idea doesn't correspond with your writing or feeling or comfortability please just ignore this. apologies if it made you feel uncomfortable.

hope you have/had a nice day or night!!♡♡

I hope you have a nice day/night as well!! And i hope you enjoy this! CW: past abuse, past emotional abuse and neglect

You met them first through a mutual friend, an unplanned introduction that turned into something you hadn’t quite expected: a tentative relationship, but one that had happiness blooming like the flowers and greenery you tend to. It was unconventional- a group of elite soldiers who spent most of their time between missions scattered across the world and a civilian- but when they returned, it felt like they brought your home with them.

You still didn’t understand why they liked having you around. You were just a florist who helped them with decorating their new house, or who listened when they needed a friendly ear. You didn’t ask for anything, and they were kind enough not to question it even if you'd seen their displeased little frowns and furrowed brows whenever you'd refuse.

But recently, you noticed them getting… concerned.

It was Soap who brought it up first, his frustration seeping into his usual easy smile.

It happened after you’d offered to run a series of errands, insisting they rest after a mission. As always, you tried to downplay your exhaustion, helping them settle in their home, making sure everything was clean and in order for them before you even considered sitting down.

Soap watched with a frown, noticing how you brushed off the heaviness in your movements and the bags under your eyes, doing your best to tend to them, such a sweet thing. But after you finished, he gently grabbed your arm.

“Dove, why do you do this?” he asked, voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

“Do what?” you replied, a little too quickly, trying to pull your arm back almost instinctively. Almost like a habit.

“Act like you don’t need anything. You haven’t even eaten today, and you’re lookin’ after us like we’re helpless. What about you, aye?”

You stared at him, unsure of what to say. You didn’t know how to explain that putting yourself last was just what you did. That it felt right, somehow, to stay in the background, to make sure everyone else was fine before even thinking about yourself. It was normal, no? It was how you were raised, and your parents only ever insisted that discipline was needed.

“Just… used to it, I guess?” you finally mumbled.

Soap’s brows drew together, but before he could say more, Gaz stepped in, giving you a gentle, worried look. So Johnny... wasn't the only one who thought so?

“It’s not right,” Gaz said, frustration simmering in his tone. “You’re allowed to put yourself first, you know?”

You shrugged, glancing away. Allowed. You hadn’t thought of it that way.

Price was the next to notice it, his observant eyes always catching the little things: how you’d flinch ever so slightly when they raised their voices, the way you stayed at the edges of conversations, nodding along but rarely chiming in. It had been the same when they'd met you, but he had assumed- hoped- it was merely you being naturally shy.

But this clearly went beyond that.

One night, as you were tidying up after dinner, John approached you, folding his arms across his chest. He stands close, but not too close.

“Why don’t you sit with us, love? Someone else can do the dishes. You barely let us help you cook or set the table either.” He says, his voice gentle, but with a hint of a command.

“I’m fine, John. I really don't mind.” You answered quickly, quietly. You couldn’t meet his eyes, a reflex you’d developed over years of keeping your head down.

He tilted his head, as if trying to see past the answer you’d given him. “No, my love,” he said softly, but with a firmness that made you pause. “I think you’re used to telling yourself that, but I don’t think you believe it.”

You froze, unsure how to respond, feeling something painful stir in your chest. The idea of asking for anything, for taking up space- of needing more than what little you had- seemed wrong. Like wanting was a burden in itself. But it is. It's what you've learnt and been taught.

John sighed, his eyes warm but sad. His hands raised to cup you face slowly, gently. “You’re not a burden, you know that, right?”

You gave him a small, shaky smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah.”

The next time, it was Ghost.

He was usually silent, lurking in the shadows, watching with that keen, unreadable gaze that only ever softened for you and them. But one evening, as you were dropping off supplies at their base, Ghost noticed you hurrying off after you’d finished. He easily caught up with you just outside, his hand gentle as it grasped your shoulder.

(Yet it still had you flinching.)

“You don’t have to go, birdie.” He murmured, voice soft but clear. You met his gaze, startled by the gentle concern in his eyes.

“You… don’t mind?” you asked, trying not to look too hopeful. You always worried your company might be too boring, unproductive. Unwanted.

Ghost shook his head. “If anything, we mind when you don’t stay,” he scoffed quietly. Then he sighs. “We’re worried, you know. About how you treat yourself, luvie. Like you don’t deserve anything more than the bare minimum.”

You swallowed hard, his words hitting deeper than you’d care to admit. He waited, patient, a pillar of quiet understanding.

“I just… it’s what I know,” you finally whispered, unable to look at him. “Growing up, I was never… important. And I don't have to be! I'm not demanding it, I promise-”

He was silent for a moment, and then he took in a deep breath that cuts your frantic mumbles off, as if finally understanding something he’d long suspected. “Well,” he said, his voice a low rumble, “you’re with us now, birde. You are important.”

Something warm spread in your chest, something unfamiliar yet comforting. You managed a nod, finding a small sliver of strength in his words, and a little smile forms on your face- leaning into Ghost's knuckles so lightly caressing your cheek.

After those days, things began to change more and more. For the better.

Kyle would check in with you every day, insisting you take breaks with him, sharing laughs over simple things. Soap began inviting you to meals, not taking no for an answer, piling food on your plate until you couldn’t help but indulge. Those two especially adored taking you out to sample new cuisines, delighting in getting you to be more open with your expressions and reactions.

John and Simon would go on walks with you, listening to the little stories you’d been hesitant to share, showing you that your presence mattered to them as much as theirs did to you. And slowly, day by day, they chipped away at the walls you’d built around yourself. Showed you that what your family raised to be wasn't right, was cruel to you.

One evening, as you sat on the couch in the common room, leaning against Johnny's shoulder, Kyle leaned over, a gentle smile on his face.

“You know, love, you don’t have to survive anymore,” he said softly, meeting your gaze with a warmth that made your heart ache. “We want you here because you make us happy. Just as you are.”

The words felt foreign, but you let them settle over you, warm and safe. Kyle gave your hand a gentle squeeze, reassuring, a silent reminder that you didn’t need to hide.

“We’re here to take care of each other,” Soap murmured, his arm wrapping around your shoulders, “and that means you too, aye?”

You gave them a tentative smile, feeling that familiar ache soften just a little.

Simon, sitting nearby, nodded in silent agreement, and John leaned back in his chair, giving you a small, proud smile. “You’re one of us, love,” John said quietly, his voice steady. “And as long as you’re here, you’re part of this family. We won't just let you fade into the background. That isn't fair to a dove like you.”

And looking at them now, at the love and gentleness they held for you, it wasn't hard to believe their words.

Maybe, just maybe, you’d finally found a place where you belonged.