#considering they always push it more when they get any kind of reaction from it

[causticsunshine]

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[sxcret-garden]

Ateez Reaction ღ Asking them to teach you how to fuck [M]

ღ Ateez all members x fem-bodied!reader ღ genre: smut reaction (best friend!Ateez x inexperienced reader), (implied) friends to fwb/friends to lovers in one part ღ warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption

Author’s note: This is definitely not what I had planned to write today but oh well :’) I hope you guys enjoy~

Edit: This is labelled as having a fem-bodied!reader, but Yeosang's, San's, Mingi's and Jongho's parts also work with a gn!reader (I changed the wording slightly for two of those parts to make them gn, cause the original versions weren't very far away from that) - Yunho's part is technically gn too, but i think one line of it makes no sense if reader is imagined to be male bodied!

Hongjoong:

when one day you somewhat shyly ask him if he would teach you how to please a guy he’s definitely surprised

but it’s also not like he sees a problem with friends hooking up? i mean - y’all know each other well and trust each other, so having sex shouldn’t be an issue

teaches you everything you wanted to know and then some more, until suddenly you can barely even remember that other guy who made you feel like you needed to practice so much anymore

he’ll be gentle with you, seeing how you don’t have much experience yet, and somehow he’ll end up pleasuring you first to help you relax

only when you’re about to cum on his fingers does he stop for a second to consider whether it’s really okay to go this far with you

but you’re enjoying yourself, and now you’re whining for him to keep going, so that’s what he does

makes you cum and then lets you rest for a bit, before he starts guiding your hands down his body

praises you for everything you do and gently nudges you in the right direction, until you have him cumming into your fist - but he won’t stop there

there’s just something insanely hot to him about having full control over what you do to him as he gives you instructions, and this is definitely also awakening some kind of corruption kink deep inside him

eventually you end up on top of him as he guides you down his cock and into a steady rhythm, having you ride him

and of course this becomes a regular thing between the two of you, both keeping up the pretense that you’re still just “practicing”, when really there’s a carnal need growing inside both of you that makes you always come back to each other for more

Seonghwa:

the first time you bring it up to him that you’ve been wondering if he could help you practice having sex he feels conflicted to say the least

of course he wants to help you!! but this is about having sex with one of his best friends, and he doesn’t know if he wants to cross that line with you

but at the same time it’s also apparent that your question is affecting him when you can see his ears turn red, and eventually he has to get out of there for a second to get himself a glass of water sakdfjlks

“So is that a yes?” you ask him when he comes back, and he almost spits the water back out aksdljfkjsd

“I-I’ll have to think about it, Y/N…” he somehow manages to stutter, before he forcibly changes topic

he needs a few days to calm down about this, but once some time has passed he figures it’s probably not a big issue if he helped you out a bit, right?

you agree on a few rules like no kissing, no actual intercourse, but he’s willing to let you touch him otherwise

and so you decide to start slow, with a simple handjob, and he actually finds himself enjoying the way he can tell you what to do, gently push you in the right direction, plus the sight of having your hands wrapped around his cock just does something very sinful to him - so it’s no surprise that you don’t have any trouble making him cum

but now he feels the need to pay you back, and so you let him finger you, and his skillful touches throw you over the edge in no time

you do this a few times, until eventually you find yourselves growing more needy, and you end up sucking him off while he eats you out, quietly turning it into a game of who can make the other cum faster in your mind

needless to say, now that you started casually hooking up you won’t be stopping anytime soon

Yunho:

he is SOSO flustered when you first ask him about whether he could teach you a bit about sex the first time and immediately says no aksjdklfsk

“Y/N, we’re just friends… shouldn’t you do that with an actual boyfriend?”

but you insist, admitting that you feel embarrassed about how inexperienced you are, and of course this guy reassures you that you’re fine the way you are, and once the right guy comes along he will surely be understanding with you

and as much as you want to believe his words, your insecurities prevail, until eventually you find an agreement that you can at least come ask him about stuff if you feel unsure about something so he could give you a verbal explanation

and you take him up on that offer pretty soon, simply because you’re curious kasjflkasdj

so when one day you ask him out of the blue whether guys prefer getting handjobs or blowjobs he’s a blushing mess first of all

“W-well, it depends on the guy…?” - so you ask him what he prefers and now he’s visibly uncomfortable

but he figures you’re just curious, so he tells you about how both is nice, it really depends on his mood, but he probably prefers a simple handjob most of the time

he loosens up a bit eventually, and as you continue talking about the topic and you ask him all kinds of questions, neither of you can deny that it’s affecting you

except nothing really happens afterwards, because you know he wouldn’t want to overstep that boundary

it’s only until a little later, when you’re both drunk at a party and he suddenly pulls you aside to tell you that he hasn’t been able to think about anything but what it would be like to have sex with you

and well, you pressing your body up against his does nothing to deflate that situation, and so you disappear in the nearest room where it’s just the two of you, and in no time clothes are flying off and your hands are all over each other

but despite the desperation that the both of you are feeling, he’s still careful with you, taking the lead as you spend the rest of the night fucking in that room

Yeosang:

he has no idea how to react when you ask him to teach you how to fuck, so it’s just awkward silence for a few moments

until he offers to treat you to a few hours with a sex worker instead ksajdflkjs

and well, that’s not exactly what you had in mind, because the point of you asking him was that he’s someone who’s known you for a long time and who knows you well

“Ahhh, I see… then sorry that I can’t be who you want me to be, but no.” (why does he have to say it so dramatically fksdjkfas)

you’re of course a bit disappointed, but it’s not like you don’t understand him - not everyone would want to cross that line with a friend - so you leave it at that for now

until one evening you’re together at your place, and you can tell something’s off about him - he seems fidgety and like he’s anxious about something, so eventually you decide to ask what’s up

and he doesn’t really want to give you an answer at first, but eventually he manages to force out an explanation

“Just… what you said to me a few days ago… I thought about it again… and maybe we can try it after all?” - you two talk a lot so it takes you a while to understand what he’s hinting at, but once you do, you’re immediately by his side

you reach for his hand as you’re sitting side by side, and somehow both your nerves are making it hard to do anything

“S-so… how do we start? Do we kiss?” he asks, and you agree that that might be a good idea, and weirdly enough as soon as your lips meet his and you fall into an unhurried pace, both your anxieties seem to be washed away

you get into his lap, and somehow you both just end up following your instincts, only breaking the kiss to tell each other what feels good, and then eventually in order to moan at the way you dry humping him is about to get the both of you off

you’re taking this very slow, but it becomes a regular thing for you to meet up in order to have sex from then on, both exploring and learning about each other’s body as you go

San:

another one who feels very conflicted the first time you bring it up to him

he doesn’t think mere friends should be doing this kind of thing with each other, but at the same time he can’t say he isn’t tempted

he says no at first, but the days after he just can’t stop thinking about you naked, on top of him, underneath him, you name it

until these thoughts start to haunt him in his dreams too, and he knows he can’t possibly be normal around you anymore if he doesn’t do anything about this

so he decides to help you out after all, under the premise that you won’t have any actual intercourse

instead, he teaches you how he likes to be touched with hands only, and eventually he also lets you suck him off

tells you exactly what to do that would drive any guy insane, gives you advice in between moans and at some point he will start rambling, until his high is coming so close that his train of thought just cuts off

and once he sees the state he put you in after cumming in your mouth - your glazed over eyes, his seed dripping down your lips before you lick it all up and swallow - he just can’t help himself anymore

“Shit, Y/N, let me fuck you, please,” he mutters, desperation in his voice

and as soon as you give him the okay this guy will be all over you, being rougher than you’d have expected him to be, fucking you as he’s led only by his instincts and his need to feel the warmth of being inside you

Mingi:

he’s another one who isn’t opposed to having sex with a good friend

actually, he feels a weird sense of relief when you ask him if you could practice with him, because he feels very comfortable with you and so he knows he too will be able to let go quickly

you start slow anyway, because he doesn’t want to overwhelm you - seeing how you don’t have much experience yet - and so he’s even more surprised when you reach for his dick pretty quickly

you ask if what you’re doing is good, and as you’re giving him a few strokes this guy is hard in no time

will put his hand onto yours to guide you into the pace he likes, but very soon he’ll simply leave it up to you, wanting to know exactly what you would do to him if he doesn’t interfere

and soon enough his sanity will start to slip away, and when he starts bucking his hips into your hand the dynamic shifts ever so slightly, because suddenly you don’t seem so inexperienced anymore at all as you dare to tease him about how needy he is

lets you make him cum onto his stomach, before you call it quits for the day, but you’ll be sure to come back for more soon

he’ll let you get him off in all kinds of ways, until eventually you two start experimenting with anything and everything you’re curious about, all under the premise of “practice”

and soon he too will feel the need to return the favour and get you off too, learning all about how your body reacts to his touch, and figuring out together what feels best for you

you’re gonna spend whole weekends at his place just fucking, and in no time you basically know each other’s bodies like the back of your own hand

and it’s more than likely that in the process this guy actually falls in love with you, and even though it’s still a whiiiile until he actually finds the courage to tell you that, he will make damn sure you won’t even think about wandering off to someone else

“You’re mine, Y/N,” - the words will repeatedly slip past his lips as he’s fucking you, and surely enough they do something to you too

Wooyoung:

you two tend to be very touchy to begin with - even though you’re definitely not in love he gives you kisses on the cheeks or your neck all the time, and when you’re having a sleepover you can be sure it will include a good amount of cuddling

so when one day he’s spooning you, focused on drawing random patterns on the skin on your arm, and you tell him that you’ve been thinking whether he would be okay with showing you how to properly please a guy he isn’t put off by the idea at all - though he is a little surprised, both because he was of the impression you had a lot more experience than you do, and because he didn’t think you’d ever consider him the right person to come to with a favour like this (like????? who else would be a better person??????)

and this guy is so gentle and respectful with you - he’ll ask exactly what you want him to show you, what you want him to do, will ask before whatever he does whether you’re okay with it or not,...

you just end up having really sweet sex as you help each other out of your clothes and you both get a little distracted worshipping each other’s body

there will be a lot of giggling as you slowly figure out what the other likes and what not, until you end up flat on your back, with his head between your legs, and suddenly all that light-hearted curiousity turns into a deep passion

he eats you out and makes you cum on his tongue multiple times, eager to please you and to see how many more of those sinful moans and whimpers he can draw out of you

until finally you grab him by the hair and pull him away so he would give you a break to catch your breath and to remind him that he was supposed to teach you how to do this stuff

“You asked me how to please a guy,” he replies. “This is how you please this guy right here.” - at this point he is absolutely pussy drunk, there’s no going back for him

will offer to get you off every single time you have a sleepover from now on (and mysteriously the amount of sleepovers you have is suddenly increasing drastically), but he will also exert some amount of self control beforehand and let you get him off too, before he makes you feel good

Jongho:

the first time you very awkwardly hint at him that you’ve been wondering if he’d be willing to teach you how to fuck he simply laughs

until he realizes you weren’t joking

panics internally as all the times he’s gotten off while thinking of you flash him by and he somehow manages to tell you that you’re just friends and you should really reconsider this!!!

he never actually gives you a proper answer on that day, and neither of you bring it up until like two weeks later

you’re both chilling with your phones in your hands, having made yourselves comfortable on his bed as you often do when you’re at his place, when he suddenly speaks up

“So… do you still want me to… teach you a few things?” he asks, not taking his eyes off his phone, and you can feel the nervousness radiating off of him - but as soon as you say yes that mood instantly gets replaced with confidence

“Then come here.” - he goes slow to figure out what you’re okay with and what not, but when you throw your arms around him once he starts scattering kisses in your neck as he hovers above you, he knows he can’t hold back anymore

gets you off with his hand first, before he guides yours to his cock and shows you exactly how he wants you to return the favour

“Wanna go all the way? Cause I’ve been thinking about this…” he admits, and when you say yes he doesn’t spare you any details

tells you about what he wants to do to you, and lets you decide which of his fantasies you want to recreate, until you end up in all kinds of positions, having him fucking one orgasm after the other out of you, until it becomes clear you’re getting tired and you really can’t take any more

you’re both very awkward after this, to the point you act weird around each other even in front of your other friends, who start wondering whether you had a fight

but as things calm down between the two of you, you meet up again at his place

you decided prior to that that what happened several days ago was a one time thing, and you wouldn’t do it again

or so you thought, because as soon as you find yourselves side by side on his bed again, neither of you can deny that the only thing you’re thinking about is continuing where you had left off last time

[rootedinrevisions]

The Rough Side of Hangman's Girl

SUMMARY: You’ve always been the quiet one, the kind of girl who prefers soft laughter to loud crowds, and gentle touches over wild passions. But Jake “Hangman” Seresin has a way of drawing out the side of you no one else gets to see. When he steps into your world, he doesn’t just turn your life upside down—he pushes you beyond every boundary you thought you had. Now, with his intense gaze and unyielding hold, you find yourself craving every rough touch, every whispered command.

A/N: Thank you to the person who send me the DM about this request! This one was so fun to write! I really hope you like it and I did your request justice.

Also the way Glen/Jake is biting his lip in this GIF does something to me so I had to include it!

PROMPT: "Don't be gentle with me-I like it when you're rough."

WARNINGS: Unprotected sex, P in V sex, spanking.

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

The door shut softly behind you, and you barely had a second to breathe before Jake had you pressed against the wall. His hands were braced on either side of your head, his body so close you could feel the heat radiating from him, grounding you and sending your pulse racing all at once. His mouth met yours, warm and teasing, before his lips trailed down to your neck, peppering kisses along your skin with unhurried confidence.

His lips skimmed over a sensitive spot just beneath your ear, and you felt the heat bloom across your cheeks.

A quiet hum escaped you, and you felt Jake’s lips curve into a smirk against your skin. “Jake…” you whispered, the request barely audible, but he heard it. “Bite me.”

He froze for a second, pulling back just enough to catch your eye, his eyebrows raising in surprise. That trademark smirk spread across his face as he took you in, a low chuckle escaping him.

“Didn’t know you had that in you, sweetheart,” he drawled, the endearment roughened by a hint of mischief. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Your eyes met his, emboldened by his reaction. “Don’t be gentle with me,” you murmured, your voice soft but steady. “I like it when you’re…rough.”

Jake’s gaze darkened, his tongue flicking over his bottom lip as he considered your words, his smile turning wicked. “My sweet girl has a dirty side, hmm?” He teased, pressing closer. His voice dropped to a murmur as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “Well, I can give you exactly what you want.”

His hands moved to your waist, fingers pressing firmly as he lifted you slightly, pressing you tighter against the wall.

He leaned in, his lips grazing yours as his voice softened to a rough whisper. “But remember you asked for this.”

Jake’s hands gripped your waist firmly as he lifted you, carrying you down the hallway to your bedroom, his stride confident and purposeful. You wrapped your arms around his neck, heart pounding with anticipation as you looked up at him. There was a smoldering intensity in his eyes you hadn’t seen before–something darker, an edge to his usual smirk that made your pulse race even faster.

He pushed open the door with his shoulder, guiding you in and setting you down just beside the bed. His fingers were immediately at your waist, slipping under the fabric of your top, pulling it up over your head in one swift motion. There was no hesitation in his movements, no teasing pace–he was stripping away every article of clothing with a sense of urgency, his touch rougher than usual, more intense.

“Turn around for me,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding as he pressed a hand against your back, guiding you to face away from him.

You felt a thrill shoot through you as you did what he asked, your breath hitching when his hands moved to the waistband of your jeans, tugging them down with a rough pull, taking everything with them until you were bare under his gaze.

“Get on the bed,” he said, voice gruffer than usual.

His hand rested on your lower back, urging you forward until you were positioned on all fours. The air was thick with anticipation, and just as you settled, you felt his fingers thread into your hair, tugging firmly as he leaned over you, his breath warm against your ear. 

“Head down,” he murmured, the quiet dominance in his tone making you shiver. His grip tightened as he pushed your head down to the comforter, his other hand settling on your hip, holding you firmly in place. “And keep that pretty little ass up for me tonight,” he added, his voice laced with a roughened edge that made warmth spread through you instantly.

The weight of his hand, the way he held you down, his voice steady and unyielding–it was already too much, and you pressed your thighs together instinctively, unable to hide the effect he was having on you.

“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmured, catching the subtle movement. “We’ve only just started.”

Your thighs pressed together instinctively, seeking some relief from the tension that was building faster than you could contain. Jake’s amused chuckle resonated in the quiet, his tone edged with a kind of pride and surprise.

Without hesitation, he placed a knee on the bed, leaning in. His hand rested on your hip as he pushed your legs apart again, his knee pressing gently yet firmly, guiding you until you were as exposed and vulnerable as he wanted.

“Keep them like that,” he ordered, his voice low and rough, sending a thrill down your spine .”Or there’ll be consequences. Understood?”

A breathless nod was all you could manage, your face turned into the comforter, heat spreading over your skin. But before you could prepare yourself, you felt the sharp, sudden sting of his hand landing across you, and a gasp escaped your lips, followed by an involuntary moan that hung in the air. Your cheeks flushed deeper, the thrill mingling with a hint of a surprise that you couldn’t hide.

“Oh, now that’s something, isn’t it?” Jake murmured, his tone dripping with amusement as he ran his hand over the spot where his hand had landed, lingering to savor the reaction he’d pulled from you. “My sweet girl likes being spanked, hmm?”

The words made your breath hitch, and just as you felt your body start to melt into his touch, another sharp smack landed, this time harder. Another moan escaped, unbidden, and you felt his fingers spread possessively over your skin, his touch heavy with control and satisfaction.

He leaned in close, his voice a rough whisper as his hand stayed firmly in place. “Keep that up, and I’ll give you exactly what you’re begging for,” he teased, the promise in his voice making you shiver as you instinctively pressed back into his hand, craving more of the intensity he was unraveling in you.

“Look at you,” he murmured, almost to himself, his voice a low, raspy drawl. “Didn’t think my sweet girl who blushed when I kissed her would be into this…but you’re loving it, aren’t you?”

He traced his hand slowly down the curve of your back, a trail of goosebumps left in its wake as he took his time, letting every inch of his touch ignite something deeper. As his fingers reached your thighs, you couldn’t stop yourself from pressing them together again, the ache building so intensely that you couldn’t help it.

But Jake was quick, his hand gripping the inside of your thigh, pushing your legs apart once more.

“Oh no, darlin’,” he whispered, the authority in his voice like nothing you’d heard from him before. “You keep those pretty legs open for me, or we’re gonna have a problem.”

You swallowed hard, nodding, breathless, and his lips brushed against your neck, warm and teasing, before he took hold of your hip, his fingers pressing into your skin with a possessive grip. You could feel the firmness of his body behind you, every inch of him taut and ready, the anticipation was overwhelming.

One hand was still on your hip, he let his other hand drift lower, fingers trailing through your folds, which had you quivering, aching for more. His thumb pressed down on your clit, testing you and the faintest pressure was enough to send a jolt through you.

“You’re already so worked up,” he murmured with a satisfied chuckle, his tone full of dark promise. “Practically dripping, and I haven’t even gotten inside you yet.”

And then, he took it a step further–he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you back against him, his movements more unrestrained, less careful than usual, his body pressed firmly into yours. His hand slid up to your shoulder, gripping it just tight enough to hold you in place as he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear. 

“Hope you’re ready for this, sweetheart,” he whispered, voice rough with both desire and restraining. “Cause I’m not holding back this time.”

With that, he guided his tip against your folds, taking his time as he ran it up and down, letting the anticipation build until you could barely take it anymore. His touch was rough and demanding, and you were more than ready, practically melting into him as he finally, slowly, pushed himself inside you, savoring every reaction, every gasp, as he showed you exactly what you’d been craving.

Jake’s grip tightened on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin with a roughness he’d never shown before like he couldn’t help himself. Every thrust was harder than the last, his movements quick and relentless, sending a wave of pleasure through you that left you gasping, clinging to the sheets for support. His rhythm had lost its usual restraint, each motion fueled by something you’d never felt from him before. And it left you breathless, lost in sensation.

You barely had time to catch your breath before his hand came down on you again, a swift, sharp smack that sent a shockwave of heat through you. A moan escaped before you could stop it, louder than before, your body instinctively arching into his touch. 

The sound seemed to fuel him, and he chuckled, low and rough, clearly reveling in how unabashedly you were responding. “God, I love how loud you’re being for me,” he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction. “Didn’t know my sweet girl could get so worked up.”

His hand slid along your skin before coming down again with another smack, drawing another moan from you, your voice catching as you felt the sharp warmth spread over your skin.

With each sound you made, he seemed to grow more unrestrained, his hands gripping you together, his pace unrelenting as he moved, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, as though he wanted to pull every last gasp and moan from you.

The pressure of his hands on your hips was almost overwhelming, holding you so firmly that you knew you’d feel his touch lingering on you long after that night.

“You’ve been holding out on me, haven’t you?” he murmured, his voice dark and teasing, his breath hot against your skin as he leaned closer, his movements never slowing. “Making me think you were all innocent. But here you are, moaning like you were made for this.”

The combination of his words and his movements left you teetering on the edge, your body completely in sync with his rhythm, every rough touch and commanding word pulling you further under his spell. And as he kept moving, kept pushing you closer and closer, you couldn’t hold back, couldn’t stop yourself fro giving in completely to the way he was taking you apart, thrust by thrust, with no intention of stopping until he’d made you his in every possible way.

Jake could feel you tightening around him, each thrust pulling you closer to the edge. Your body was trembling beneath him, and the way you were clenching told him you were almost there. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He needed to push you over the edge, needed to hear you scream his name.

“Get up on your elbows,” he commanded, his voice harsh but laced with desire. You obeyed without hesitation, your body responding instantly to his words. The new angle was almost too much–his hands gripped your shoulders, pulling you back into him, and suddenly the depth of his thrusts was hitting you in all the right ways. You gasped, your head falling back, and your back arched as his cock slammed into you with an intensity that left you breathless.

“Oh, fuck,” Jake cursed under his breath, his hands moving to your hips to help guide you, pulling you back into him with each stroke. He loved how you felt around him, how responsive you were, how loud you were–everything about this moment sent him spiraling. “God, you’re so fucking loud. I love it. Don’t stop…don’t stop making those noises for me.”

You could barely hold onto the sheets, the overwhelming pleasure radiating through your body, the new angle pushing him right to that spot inside of you that made your entire body seize. His words, his voice, everything about the way he was fucking you–faster, harder–was enough to send you crashing toward the edge.

“Let go for me, baby,” Jake growled, his voice rough with hunger. “I want to hear you scream my name.”

That did it. A shock of pleasure surged through you, your body spasming as you cried out his name, the wave of ecstasy washing over you, pulling you under completely. You felt him jerk inside of you, his breath ragged as he pushed you through it, holding you tight as your body quivered with aftershocks. You moaned his name again, your voice breathless, as the final release hit you both at the same time.

Jake’s grip on your hips tightened as you both finished, your bodies trembling, chest heaving as you collapsed together onto the comforter. 

Neither of you could catch your breath at first, the room heavy with the sound of your labored breathing. His hand brushed a strand of hair from your face as he pulled you closer, the warmth of his body a grounding force after the intense release.

“That was…goddamn,” Jake murmured, his voice rough, but there was a softness behind it now, a gentleness as he ran his hand over your back. “You okay?”

You nodded, still catching your breath, unable to form words just yet. He smiled, his lips brushing over your forehead as you both laid there, tangled up in each other, feeling the afterglow of everything that had just happened.

“Good,” he whispered, holding you a little tighter, feeling the contentment between you both settle in. “I’m not done with you yet.”

[neversetyoufree]

Since we'll hopefully be getting out of the VnC hiatus soon, and this new arc seems to finally be turning the spotlight back to Noé and calling out some of his more troubling traits for the first time, I've been thinking a lot about him recently.

I've talked before on this blog about Noé's inability to recognize or process bad things when they happen to him alone. He bounces back from and idealizes almost any experience as soon as it's over, even when he absolutely shouldn't. It's one of my favorite traits of his, and it's been lampshaded a couple of times in-manga. Louis calls out how weird his attitude toward his kidnapping is during the mémoire 9 flashback, and the "be a little bothered" from Vanitas and co in mémoire 57 has the same effect.

We also recently got a whole extended sequence of Vanitas and Domi complaining about how Noé also never anticipates harm before it might come to him. He waltzes into dangerous situations like it's nothing, almost as if he thinks he's unkillable. Combined with the above, this is just more of his strange brand of optimistic denial. Everything is fine in Noéland! It can't possibly not be fine! He always trusts and thinks the best of people and situations by default, never wanting to expect they may do wrong, and so long as a given event doesn't involve harm to external innocents and/or Noé's loved ones that he can't rationalize away, he compartmentalizes and denies harm once it's done. Thus he carries on in blissful ignorance, his past suffering having no effect on the blithe trust with which he treats the world.

But in addition to all that, Noé is also very notably divorced from the consequences of his own actions. It's not that he's *incapable* of considering his own effect on people, and he certainly tries to be kind and decent, but much of the time, it just doesn't seem to occur to him that people will have reactions to the things he does. He does as he sees fit, and when his deeds impact the people around him, especially if they produce a reaction that could upset him, it bounces off his mind in the same way that potential traumas do.

On the more lighthearted end of the spectrum, this leads to things like Noé never noticing when people are attracted to him. It may also have something to do with his airheaded messiness—the way he's always thoughtlessly making a mess of the hotel room and incurring Vanitas's wrath in bonus materials. On the heavier end of the spectrum, this causes a lot of genuine problems for the people around him. He's largely oblivious to the depth of Dominique's mental health problems until she's pushed to her breaking point at the amusement park, despite the fact that he's inextricably entangled in the cause of them. He also completely loses sight of Vanitas's reactions to him when he gets caught up in his protective rage at the start of the vanoé fight, and it takes an outside reminder from Jeanne and a literal mirror to make him realize that his own actions are part of why Vanitas has devolved to such a state.

This lack of self-perception on Noé's part feeds back into the other problems I laid out at the top of this post, his obliviousness toward his interactions with the rest of the world helping to facilitate his denial. It's part of the happy little insulating bubble that he interacts with the world through. And as the other side of that coin, his automatic, unthinking denial of things that could hurt him is part of what enables him to ignore his own impacts on the people around him. You can't reckon with or worry about harming other people when you live in Noéland where everything must be fine. I think the fact that he wants to be a good person that doesn't harm others actually makes it harder for him to confront the truth of how he impacts the world, because him hurting others is a Bad Thing that would cause him mental harm.

We've seen Noé mess up, understand his mistake, and apologize for it before. He apologizes to Vanitas for making assumptions about him after the bal masqué, he apologizes to Vanitas again at the end of the amusement park fight, and he apologizes to Riche for speaking with ignorance about dhampirs. However, I think the bigger a mistake of his is, the more harm it causes other people (and the more understanding would hurt him as a result), the harder it is for Noé to comprehend his wrongs. He's clearly trying to make things right with Domi, and he's told her that he values her, but I don't know if it's yet occurred to him to conceive of their mess as a situation where he's done her active wrong. He also literally passes out on her mid-conversation, leaving Domi and Vanitas to carry him back to bed when he was supposed to be comforting her.

But I think the most fascinating example, the moment where all this comes together into Noé's most feeble and blatant act of denial yet, is the first time he sees Misha after clawing up his face. The anime actually changes this detail, which is its own can of worms to get into, but in the manga, when Noé sees Misha's injuries in the light of day after attacking him, he immediately fucking turns around.

At the end of his wits at the amusement park, Noé claws a child across the face in a fit of anger and protectiveness. I'm not interested in condemning Noé for this, especially given that the child in question was actively trying to stab Vanitas at the time, but I will say that his actions are quite extreme. Given Vanitas's response and the way Misha's injuries are portrayed, I think it's clear that the manga wants us to see how Noé hurts Mikhail as something troubling and extreme. He gives that kid a pretty horrible injury, and Misha will likely have scars on his face for the rest of his life.

And regardless of how justified he may or may not have been in hurting Misha in defense of Vanitas, it's clear that Noé himself is upset by the true extent of what he does to Mikhail's face. When he looks at him in the light of day, when he sees a numb-looking child with his face wrapped in still-bloody bandages, though we only get to see a small segment of his face in that moment, he looks sick. He knows that he's done something troubling, and I'm sure he feels all kinds of heavy and unpleasant emotions.

This is one genuinely bad thing he's done that Noé cannot deny. He can't rationalize this one away and make it all copacetic. He can't conveniently forget the emotional reality of suffering and harm, because that reality is standing ten yards away from him. And he can't just apologize for things either, because apologies cannot undo physical harm, and frankly, I'm not sure he'd be able to give an honest apology for his one. Sickness at the results of his actions doesn't mean he fully regrets hurting Misha, at least not at this moment when emotions are still raw.

But Noé, confronted with this undeniable source of guilt and pain, is still ultimately unable to look the pain he's caused in the eye. A problem piercing through the happy veil of Noéland and forcing him to acknowledge it doesn't mean he's capable of reckoning with that problem. Instead he just. turns away from it.

Noé, forced to acknowledge a harm he's done and unable to employ all the many layers of automatic insulation that usually protect him, physically turns around because he cannot bear to look at the person, the child, that he's hurt. He employs the very last possible form of avoidance available to him, even though it's useless in the ways that matter. Not looking at Misha doesn't mean he gets to un-know the fact that he maimed him, but he simply cannot bring himself to look.

Noé is extremely good at playing "I do not see it" with things that hurt him. He's good enough that I think he has genuinely no idea he's doing it a vast majority of the time. Whatever mental shield he has that's protecting him is automatic enough that the badness that could hurt him doesn't ever even seem to cross his conscious mind. But no matter how automatic and subconscious, this tendency of his is still, and the end of the day, nothing more than an unhealthy coping mechanism, and this moment helps to put that to our attention.

What's the difference, really, between him cheerfully acting like Jean-Jacques and Chloé's assaults never upset him and him turning around so he doesn't have to look at the wounds he gave Mikhail? Noé can't look at pain, can't acknowledge the things he finds upsetting (at least not things that cause him alone pain, as others' pain often triggers his savior complex and spurs action). This scene with Misha throws that into the light, forcing Noé to desperately cling to his avoidance in an obvious and physical way.

Even when there's no way to deny the harsh reality of having done something he finds horrific, Noé Archiviste cannot make himself look directly at a painful truth, be it others wronging him or his own wrongdoing. It takes an external hand to step in and force him to turn his head and acknowledge/reckon with a problem. And even then, who knows if intervention can always be successful.

The start of the dham arc so far has drawn a lot of attention to this pattern of behavior, with Vanitas having to sit Noé down and explain to him in detail why his words said in well-meaning ignorance make Dante so upset. This is Noé being forced to look at a harm he caused because he couldn't or wouldn't look at and comprehend the problem (his fellow vampires' racism) in the situation he was in. But upsetting Dante is ultimately a low stakes problem for Noé. He put his foot in his mouth and offended a peer; he didn't shred Vanitas's little brother. He's able to accept his wrongs and feel his discomfort without resorting to physically turning around and avoiding the issue.

I want to know what Noé will do if/when this arc forces him to confront a source of pain he can't handle in a context that's more high stakes than a social faux pas. I want to see what he'll do when something really forces him beyond his ability to believe that everything is fine. How badly would he have to be hurt to lose his ability to filter an event/events through rose colored glasses? How badly would he have to hurt someone else? Or is his instinctive shield good enough that he'll never get out of it on his own? And if so, who else might step in to make Noé own up to reality?

Teacher and the Archivistes are becoming plot-relevant now, and our attention is being drawn to Noé's issues. I think there might be something coming soon that even Noé can't turn away from and cheerfully pretend isn't hurting him. Teacher even ends his appearance at the amusement park with a little speech about having to "wake and face reality," which makes me even more certain that a wake-up call for Noé is imminent.

Either that, or Noé's going to mess up and hurt somebody even worse than he hurt Misha later this arc, and in that case, we might get to see a feat of denial even worse than him literally turning around to avoid looking at the wounds he caused.

[necronomeconomicism]

Voting in the United States is unintuitive, often undemocratic, and painful. The natural emotional reaction with being asked to support vile people at the ballot box is disgust and avoidance. For leftists it doesn't help either when dominant narratives about voting put it on a pedestal as something patriotic system-serving citizens do.

But voting doesn't have to mean declaring personal support or belief in anyone, and there is a lot more to vote on than the presidency. Still, there's no bubble to fill in that says "Gay luxury space communism immediately!" so what do we do with the ballot?

There are two kinds of things you might get to vote on. Representatives and Propositions(or Measures). Representatives are those politicians the news is always abuzz about. Propositions are US America's cute attempt at direct democracy and can be a breath of fresh air to vote on when they're not trying to con you. Most are "citizen-initiated" so this is where you'll find most non centrist political actions. As I understand it 24 states do not have citizen-initiated propositions and of them some don't seem to have propositions at all. If you live in one of those I'm sorry.

Your mental energy should be prioritized in this order.

Propositions -> Local Representatives -> State Representatives -> Federal Representatives -> Presidency

UNLESS you live in a swing state, the list of which can vary depending on the election. In that case you'll have to think about the presidency first. I'm sorry. The electoral college is stupid.

I live in California, so we'll be going through part of the 2024 California ballot. Before we get into this know there is nothing wrong with using a voting guide that just tells you what to vote for. That is, only if the guide is good, which is uncommon. Most guides are either horrible or don't cover everything on the ballot. Before using a voting guide check who is funding it. If it has any holes consider researching those propositions or elected positions yourself.

California has 11 propositions on the ballot. I'm only going to go over one in detail, but I do want to bring up some more straightforward ones to illustrate a point

Prop 3 enshrines gay marriage in the California constitution Prop 6 bans forced prison labor in the state Prop 32 raises the minimum wage to $18 Prop 33 allows local governments to enact stronger rent control

Propositions like these, if they are available, leave decent leftists no excuse not to vote. No matter how much you detest the presidential candidates, no matter how revolutionary you aspire to be, no matter how much you hate American "democracy" propositions like these can have immense positive impacts on people's lives when they pass. You cannot allow yourself to be thoroughly terrified of the ballot box when these exist. And on the other hand

Prop 36 makes drug possession a felony and makes theft under $950 a felony after multiple violations

You cannot just do nothing and let something that monstrous pass. And it fucking might! And all that good stuff might not! There are more than twice as many millions of dollars in advertisements pushing prop 36 than against it right now. Forget the presidency for a moment, if you live in California, you get to decide if literal slavery is allowed in prisons or not.

As for representatives I'm not going to say exactly what city I live in, but I can say there are multiple elected positions that aren't even divided along party lines. There are also multiple state, district, and county representatives that aren't just horrible people. Many of them backed by unions rather than corporate money.

There's also sneaky shit on the ballot. I mentioned earlier propositions made to con you. This season's example is Prop 34 which, "requires certain healthcare providers to spend 98% of the revenues from the federal discount prescription drug program on direct patient care." Sounds maybe like a neat healthcare bill, but it says "certain" and that's a tricky word on the ballot. In this case Prop 34 specifies it only applies to healthcare providers that own housing. Only one healthcare provider in California does that, the AIDS Healthcare Foundation. A non profit that has put its weight behind affordable housing including support for Prop 33.

Without people doing the research on things like Prop 34, bills like this can easily pass and enable all sorts of chicanery.

So go vote! Do some research and make some changes to the world! Don't let it be the only thing you do either. Voting only happens every two years. Contact your local political groups and volunteer your time or even just listen. Talk to your friends about what you're doing. Exercise your political muscles! Exercise your organizational muscles! Solidarity can be hard, but we have to be up for it. Your leftism has to affect the world around you or it will rot in the prison that is your skull.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Big on the idea that the ghoul thinks you’re tense and tremble around him because you’re *afraid* of him, not because you’ve got dumb ol’ starry eyes for him. Before the war he would’ve easilyyy picked up on your crush, but now? The idea of someone being attracted to him looking the way he does is so far out of his mind that he doesn’t even consider this a possibility.

l loooove this. Big fan of the idea that the poor thing has largely forgotten everything he knew about women, about dating, about sex, so the moment any of those things start taking up space in his brain again, he's confused and sort of panicking. It takes him long enough to realize that he's interested in you, and that's mortifying enough to him without having to ponder the probability that his seemingly irrational feelings are reciprocated. He doesn't think those odds are particularly high, especially with the way you always seem to tremble and avoid his gaze when he gets close enough to you. Hell, the very first time the two of you spoke it seemed like you were absolutely petrified, shaking and stammering over your words. Your smell even changes when you two get too close like he stresses you out or something, and it makes him feel so guilty, because all he can think about is how to get closer.

Out of respect for you and the blooming friendship between the two of you, he tries his hardest to treat you normally. Well, better than normal, which, to him, still sort of feels like flirting. But he can't bring himself to treat you like he would treat just anyone, and it feels like it exposes him to some degree. Of course, there are still plenty of times where he lashes out at you like he lashes out at everyone else, times where he's in full-form as the cantankerous old bastard he is, but even then he tries his best to not be so awful to you. Him driving you away feels painfully inevitable sometimes, but he's determined to act like someone you might actually want to spend your time with as best as he can.

It's only mildly confusing to him when you start slowly spending that time nearer and nearer to him. He chalks it up to the effort he puts into being as pleasant as possible, your kindness, maybe even your own loneliness. At no point does he consider that you may be trying to capture his attention.

It would take a fairly obvious gesture from you for him to even fully realize that you're being serious in signaling your intentions toward him, your desires. I think that for a long while he'd convince himself that you're fucking with, even mocking him (worst case scenario), or that you're doing it because you like him personally enough to pity him (best case scenario). But if you offer him genuine compliments, say kind things to him, slowly touch him more and more in innocuous ways, he'll begin to put two and two together. He's rusty, not stupid.

Once you get to the point where you're openly flirting with him, you think his reaction is just adorable. He still gives you that nervous butterflies feeling in your stomach and it makes you antsy, afraid to screw up and scare the touch-shy man away, but it's worth it to see the look on his face. It's been a long, long time since anyone's told him what gorgeous eyes he has, cupped his cheek with their soft hand, giggled just a bit too eagerly at one of his stupid quips, and he melts at the attention, no matter how much he tries not to. He feels sort of foolish, as well, seeing the way your hands still tremble, the way you still have trouble looking him in the eye sometimes even as you kiss his cheek. You may be nervous, he accepts, but it isn't because you're afraid or freaked out by him or think he's disgusting. No, your nerves have a different source, no matter how improbable it may seem to him. When you two finally share your first real kiss, he notices that that little shiver is present, and it pushes him to hold you closer as your warmth seeps into him.

He can't help but notice that your hands tremble the first time you touch his cock, too.

[unoislazy]

Fucking Brat

Mizu x Reader

Summary: you fuck around, you find out.

Disclaimer; Ray if you read this fic I’m gonna kill you.

Obviously swearing.

A bit heated but no nsfw

————————————————————

You and Mizu met during one of her many stops, this stop in particular happens to be the town you lived in. Mizu had essentially saved you from being taken by three men who had no regard or respect for your boundaries. From then on, you refused to leave her side, wanting some kind of protection in exchange for really anything Mizu wanted.

Well apparently the one thing off the table was your cooperation.

While traveling together, you and Mizu butt heads constantly. The fact that she had kept you around this long would’ve been a shock to anyone considering how you two talked to each other. You always liked to poke fun at things that she did, situations you came across, anything and everything. Mizu never openly found your jokes or teasing manner all that funny and yet for some reason unbeknownst to you, she kept you around.

You liked to tease her, oftentimes that meant just openly flirting with her despite never getting a reaction. You almost thought it was impossible for her to ever flirt back so you never felt any shame in what you said. She had never truly given you a reason to believe otherwise so you constantly tested her patience.

You had found a place to rest, which this time surprisingly was not in the middle of nowhere in the woods. Due to low funds, you, Ringo, and Mizu all had to share a room but you had agreed to sleep on opposite sides of the room.

Now you sit staring at the woman across from you, the room was extremely quiet given the fact that Ringo was not there. You had your chin resting on your hand as you pouted. Mizu didn’t even need to look up to know that you were staring at her.

“What do you want?” She asked, one of her hands lightly rubbed a cloth on the lense of her glasses to clear them up.

“Am I not allowed to look at you?” You asked in a very sarcastic tone, you knew what you were starting.

“Not when you’re staring, no.” She argued, her voice was low and she didn’t really want to enable you by responding but she couldn’t help herself.

“Why? Are you going to burst into flames if I don’t stop?”

“No, but you’ll lose an eye.” She responded, placing her glasses down on top of her cape which had been folded beside her. She really had no reason to wear them, you already knew two of the secrets she hid.

“Oh, scary.” You mocked, pretending to be trembling in fear. “You know you’d never hurt me.”

“You wanna bet?” She asked, finally looking up at you.

“You’re no fun.” You pouted again, now facing away from her. You didn’t think Mizu would actually ever put you in danger, but honestly you didn’t want to find out either.

“Never said I was.”

“Do you have even the slightest sense of humor?”

“Considering what you think is funny? No.”

You groaned at her response, she was so annoyingly dull and barely ever gave you anything to work off of. Which is why, any chance you’d get, you’d try your best to annoy her and push her to her limit.

“So, Mizu.” You began. The woman didn’t even pay you any mind this time but you knew she was at least still listening. You had slowly begun to make your way next to her, much to her very clear dismay. “Are you always so serious?” You asked despite obviously knowing the answer.

“Only when I’m annoyed.” She answered just as plainly as she had every other time. By now she had already set down her glasses but she still refused to properly look at you.

“You know I feel like our time together would be much more pleasant if you would lighten up a bit.” You jokingly suggested. You didn’t mind her reluctance to give you any sort of answer, sure it was incredibly annoying, but it only made your job more interesting trying to find more intricate ways to go about it.

However, this time Mizu didn’t even answer. She sent you one look and that was it.

“Your eyes are so pretty, it’s too bad that every time you look at me they’re only filled with disdain.” You pouted, still not gaining any response from the woman. Alright fine, if she was going to be boring, you’d have to up your game.

You moved yourself closer to the woman, now sitting beside her

You very carefully moved your hand closer to hers before you muttered,

“You know letting yourself have fun won’t kill you.”

You were persistent, she’d have to hand you that. She had to catch herself at one point, she couldn’t let herself so much as look interested in whatever kind of trouble you were trying to offer. No distractions, that was what she kept herself to, and that’s what she planned on staying with.

Your persistence was beginning to get on her nerves though, not because she didn’t enjoy your useless bickering, oh no it was quite the opposite. It was because she enjoyed it that she was annoyed. She didn’t want to let herself cave in, she had to keep herself from pointless endeavors, no matter how tempting they may have been, and you had tried tempting her on more than one occasion and nearly succeeded.

Why she kept you around if she didn’t want to be distracted was beyond either of you.

“Come on Mizu.” You teased, your hand overlapping hers as you noticed the annoyed look on her face. It wasn’t incredibly noticeable but the way her lips and nose scrunched ever so slightly let you know you were doing precisely what you wanted. Besides, Mizu was no stranger to being blunt, had she not wanted this attention she would’ve stopped you well before this point.

Your hand slowly traveled from her hand, lightly grazing up her arm before landing on her shoulder, you leaned towards her and whispered,

“Let go, just for a little.”

Mizu then swiftly grabbed your arms pulling them off her shoulder and then pinning you down. You hit the ground fast, but it wasn’t a hard enough impact to hurt, if anything it simply shocked you. You weren’t expecting such a sudden outburst, and especially not such a restricting one. Now you were lying beneath her, her lower half straddling you much like you had seen her due to a few others on your travels.

You’d never admit it to her but any time she did this to someone else you silently wished it would have been you, well it seems like you got your wish.

You looked up at her, her breathing wasn’t incredibly heavy but it was noticeable enough, her hands were tightly wrapped around your wrists, they didn’t hurt but it was a bit uncomfortable.

The annoyance she held on her face had become much more noticable, but her eyes held an emotion that you couldn’t quite read.

“Do you ever stop talking?” She asked, obviously not wanting an answer. Your eyes were widened from the sudden shift in attitude before you smirked.

“I think you already know the answer to that.” You joked, earning a scoff from Mizu.

“You think you’re so funny.”

“I know I am.”

“Would you shut up?”

“Make me.” You challenged. The woman whose face was no more than a few mere inches away from your face paused for a moment. She was contemplating something and honestly with the way she acted it could either be that she wanted to slit your throat or make you regret saying that somehow.

You wouldn’t though, you said what you said and you meant it.

“What, you don’t know how too? That’s too bad, I guess you’ll just have to de-“ Before you could finish your snarky remark, Mizu had planted a kiss directly on your lips. It wasn’t a soft loving kiss, it was rough, full of longing, and an annoyance that only you could be the blame for. You couldn’t help but melt into it, sure you were trapped underneath her so there was not much else you could do but you’d be lying if you said this wasn’t something you wanted to come out of your shameless flirting.

She shifted a bit on top of you, her legs were firmly planted on either side of your waist keeping her still. She was still holding your hands down but not as tightly as she had been, one of them slowly moved down your arm as she deepened the kiss.

While this wasn’t exactly what you were expecting from Mizu, you weren’t complaining. If anything you just expected, “you’re so annoying leave me alone.” And to call it a day, but clearly that’s not where you were going to leave this off.

As flirty and unflustered you wanted to act about this situation, you knew you wouldn’t be able to last that long. Your heart was pounding rapidly, you shifted your legs a bit uncomfortably underneath her, trying to readjust yourself.

Seeing as this wasn’t the outcome you were expecting you didn’t know where to go from here, you truly didn’t believe you’d get this far.

After some time Mizu finally released from the kiss, lifted off of you only to return back to the position she had been in before where she was a few inches away from your face. Once she had lifted from you, you both sat in silence for a moment before she let out,

“God you’re such a fucking brat.” She practically growled. You stared at her, your eyes widening even the slightest bit as you felt your stomach do a backflip. You had never felt that way with anyone so feeling it now with her was a discovery you had not planned on making at this specific point in time.

As funny as you might have thought this situation was before this point, You had pushed her to the limit and now you were dealing with the consequences of it.

You weren’t complaining either.

She continued to hold you in place despite you making no real effort to move away from her, not like you could even if you tried. You both sat there, inches away from each other, just staring at each other. Her eyes were filled not with annoyance like you expected them to be but… amusement. She was enjoying this just as much as you were.

Seemed like she was willing to partake in a distraction after all.

Your reluctance to make another joke at her expense after saying what she did didn’t go unnoticed by Mizu. A smirk slowly made its way onto her face as she scoffed, “That's what gets you to shut up?” She asked rhetorically.

She wasn’t wrong, you hadn’t said anything since then and honestly it embarrassed you. You had so many good lines but that one thing made you shut down almost completely. It felt almost as if the whole reality of the situation came running into you full force.

You were laying under Mizu as she straddled you, and you got yourself into that position by annoying her until she wanted to make you shut up. If this was anyone’s fault, it was your own.

“Nothing to say now?” She mocked in a way similar to how you had originally. You didn’t know what to say and all you could do was just stare at her. What does one say in this position?

“Where did this come from?”

Finally you had at least managed to get a few words out.

Mizu leaned forward, her lips gently brushing against your ear as she whispered,

“From you testing my patience.”

With that the feeling had come back yet again. She knew what she was doing and you really couldn’t complain, not like you would anyways.

“Not so brave when you have no power.” She continued to tease, a very knowing smirk stayed plastered on her face before she had neared your face once again. You could see it in her eyes that she had gotten some sort of idea and you hadn’t a clue in the world what it could’ve been.

“Since you feel it so necessary to speak all the time,” She began, pushing your wrists together so you could grab them with one hand, the now free hand was now gently placed on your chest.

“Why don’t you say out loud what you want to come from this, and we’ll see how lucky you get.”

Her eyes were staring into yours, suddenly you felt as if you never wanted to speak again. Sure this wasn’t what you planned but it was still what you wanted, and yet you felt an odd sense of stage fright.

It was only you two, no one else. Ringo had been off gathering items which often took him up to an hour, Taigen had been left behind yet again after trying to get Mizu to duel him for the millionth time. There was no one else but you and her and an empty room.

“I want…” You began, earning an expectant gaze from Mizu. She was being surprisingly patient for someone who seemed to really want to drag you off the pedestal you pretended to put yourself on sometimes. As you tried to express whatever it was you wanted, her hand slowly made its way from your chest and up to gently cup your face,

“You don’t know, do you?”

It was as if she read your mind, or just paid attention to the fact you couldn’t figure out how to answer. You shook your head, you didn’t want to admit to her that you had been bluffing throughout your flirts but it seems like that wall was wearing thin either way. You were surprised it even took this long to begin with, you had been bluffing from the get go, but now that you were actually face to face with the extremely attractive woman who you’ve said multiple things you might have wanted to take back, you didn’t know what to do or say until it finally clicked,

“All of you. I want all of you.” You finally answered. It wasn’t the answer your originally intended but it was an answer nonetheless.

“Not exactly what I was referring to, but it’s ambitious, I like it.” She admitted. You couldn't help but feel embarrassed before she leaned down yet again and whispered,

“Let’s see how much you can handle.”

[thewulf]

Igniting Affection || Dallas "Dally" Winston

Summary: Request - could you please do a dallas winston x curtis!sister where she's soda's twin. one night (at like 11pm) after a fight with darry, she sneaks out. while walking on the streets, she gets followed and harassed by a group of guys when dally finds her and saves her. they confess their feelings for each other, and then he takes her home. darry is up stressed about her and when he sees her come in with dal of all people, he loses it (gives him a black eye lol). they end up convincing darry that they truly care for each other and dally promises not to hurt her. thank you so so much!!!

A/N: Soft Dallas is my FAVORITE.

Pairing: Dallas "Dally" Winston x Female Reader (Curtis Sister Reader)

Word Count: 5.5k +

TW: Punching, threats of violence, general Outsiders warnings

In the bustling Curtis household, you've always found a sense of both chaos and completeness. As Soda's twin you share more than just a birthday; his infectious laugh and easy charm are mirrored in you albeit with your own fiery independence. The pair of you are a fixture in the gang, equally loved and protected by your brothers and friends.

Lately though the dynamics at home have subtly shifted, especially your interactions with Dallas Winston. Dalla was always known for his tough exterior and rebellious nature and had been a part of your life for as long as you could remember. He was always there, in the background, his sharp eyes often finding yours across the room. Initially Dallas's attention was just another constant in your life, like the rumbling of motorcycles or the distant sound of rock and roll drifting through the neighborhood. But as you grew older so did the nature of his attention. It transformed, deepened. His glances lingered longer. His usual smirks were replaced with genuine smiles when you entered the room.

Darry and Soda started to notice the subtle changes too. In how Dallas stood a little closer to you than necessary, how he lingered at the Curtis house even after everyone else had left. His demeanor softened when you spoke. A stark contrast to the tough persona he presented to the rest of the world.

The gang teased him when you weren't around. Not cruelly but enough to make any other guy back off. But Dallas didn't care. He shrugged off their comments with a smirk, his usual defiance shining through. It seemed Dallas Winston, who never let anything affect him, was sweet on you and it was becoming more apparent by the day. He always liked you but as you were getting older his feelings seemed to shift from a protective friendship to something far deeper, much more tender. He'd grown to adore you and it showed not just in the way he watched you but in the small acts of kindness that he tried to hide—an extra soda by your side at the diner, his jacket over your shoulders on chilly nights.

The changes were subtle but significant. It set the stage for new tensions and old fears to collide especially with Darry's watchful eyes missing nothing.

Darry's reaction to Dallas's growing fondness for you was as expected—protective, skeptical, and a bit wary. As the eldest Curtis sibling Darry had always taken his responsibilities seriously, perhaps too seriously at times. He saw Dallas's tough reputation and the hard edges of his life, and it worried him. He wasn't blind to the subtle shift in Dallas's behavior around you or his lingering presence in your home. His disapproval was palpable. A silent tension that hung in the air whenever Dallas was around.

However, Soda, ever the peacemaker and your fiercest supporter saw things a bit differently. He noticed how Dallas’s eyes softened when he looked at you. How he always made sure you were laughing in a group. Soda pushed for Darry to give Dallas a chance, arguing that underneath the rough exterior, Dallas cared deeply. And not just about you but about all the people he considered his family. Soda’s arguments were lighthearted but persistent often accompanied by a slap on Darry's back and a grin trying to ease his brother into acceptance.

On a bustling weekday the DX station was a hub of activity. Cars lined up for gas, the air filled with the scent of oil and the sound of chatter. You usually manned the front desk with Sandy, handling the cash register and charming the customers with easy smiles and quick service. It was a routine that brought a sense of normalcy to the otherwise chaotic life of being a Curtis and a part of the gang.

Dallas knew your schedule by heart. A fact that he kept to himself but was evident in the timing of his visits. Today he strode into the DX expecting to find you behind the counter sharing a laugh with Sandy or flipping through a magazine during a rare quiet moment. Instead, he was met with the sight of just Sandy who was busily stacking receipts.

He walked up to her trying to mask his disappointment with a gruff nod. “Y/N’s not here?”

Sandy easily recognized the thinly veiled concern in his voice and shook her head with a smirk. “Nope she took off for a bit. Something about an errand or other.”

Dallas's frown deepened and without another word he turned on his heel and made his way to the garage where Soda and Steve worked with the occasional appearance from Two-Bit. Pushing open the door he found them buried under the hood of a Chevy, tools in hand.

“Where’s Y/N?” Dallas’s voice carried a touch of irritation. His usual cool demeanor slipping slightly.

Soda popped his head out, wiping sweat from his brow. “Hey, Dal. She had to run some errands. Didn’t say much. Why, missing her already?”

Steve didn’t miss a beat, adding with a chuckle, “Yeah, Dallas, you look lost without her. Should we put up missing posters?”

Dallas scowled before crossing his arms as he leaned against a workbench. “Very funny both of you. Just wondering is all.”

Two-Bit who had just walked in with a box of spare parts joined in the fun. “Wondering or pining? There’s a fine line and I think our boy Dallas is dancing right on it!”

The group erupted in laughter, even Dallas couldn’t help but smirk, shaking his head at his friends’ relentless teasing. Despite his tough exterior it was clear to everyone there that his visits were less about the cars and more about the chance to see you. As the laughter died down Soda clapped Dallas on the shoulder, his voice sincere, “Don’t worry Dal, she’ll be back soon. And hey, maybe you should just tell her, huh? Clear the air.”

Dallas shrugged with the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. “Maybe,” he muttered. His mind already planning his next visit, hoping it would coincide with yours.

Steve and Two-Bit exchanged a look. Their teasing smiles softening into something more akin to understanding. They knew where Dallas’s heart was and despite their jokes they were rooting for him—maybe even enough to pull Darry around eventually.

The evening had started off like any other in the Curtis household—dinner was a raucous affair with laughter and the clattering of dishes. But the atmosphere shifted palpably when Darry brought up your recent behavior. It was rare for you and Darry to clash. He was usually the understanding brother, the steady hand. But tonight, his patience seemed worn thin as you were late to dinner for the third time that week.

“Y/N, we need to talk about these late nights,” Darry began. His tone more of concern than anger. His eyes that usually warm held a hint of frustration.

You tensed feeling suddenly on edge. “What about them Dar?” Your voice was calm but underneath you felt a storm brewing.

“It’s not just the late nights. It’s everything. You’re out more, and when you’re home, you seem... distant.” Darry’s words were careful but to you they felt accusatory.

Soda, sensing the tension, tried to smooth things over. “Come on, Darry, Y/N’s just working extra shifts at the DX with Sandy or hanging out with her friends. It’s nothing serious.”

Darry shot Soda a look that silenced him. “It’s different, Soda. And you know it.”

You couldn’t help but feel cornered. “So, it’s okay for Soda to go off and do god knows what but I have to be kept under wraps? Tighter than Ponyboy, even?” The comparison came out harsher than you intended. You saw Ponyboy’s wince from the corner of your eye.

Pony hated this kind of confrontation and stepped forward. “Y/N, Darry’s just worried, you know? We all are. That’s all.”

“But why? Because I’m not just sitting around waiting for things to happen to me? Because I want something more than just this?” Your voice rose as you slapped the dining table with a mix of frustration and desperation. You were seeking an understanding where there seemed to be none.

Darry stood up, his stature imposing. “It’s not about holding you back. It’s about making sure you’re safe, that you’re not heading down a path that—”

You stood up to meet his eye, “A path that what, Darry? That you wouldn’t choose?” You interrupted. Your patience snapping. The room went silent with the weight of your words hanging heavily.

Soda tried again. His voice softer. “Y/N, just talk to us, okay? We’re all on the same team here.”

But the damage was done. You felt smothered, misunderstood, and the need for air, for space, overwhelmed you. “I need to get out of here,” you muttered before heading towards the door.

“Y/N, wait—” Darry’s call was too late. The front door slammed behind you leaving a stunned silence in your wake.

As you walked down the quiet, dark streets your heart pounded with a mix of anger and relief. The cool night air was a calm to your heated emotions. You knew you shouldn’t have left like that, but the walls of the house felt like they were closing in on you. You needed to think, to breathe.

Under the dim streetlights your footsteps echoed on the pavement. The familiar streets offering little comfort tonight. You just needed a moment alone to figure out how to bridge the gap growing between you and Darry. How to make him see you as you were not as he feared you might become.

The night air brushed against your cheeks as you hurried along the dimly lit streets of your neighborhood. The usual buzz of the city felt muted instead replaced by an eerie quiet that made every footstep echo with unusual clarity. Despite the tension at home there was a fleeting sense of freedom in being out here alone, walking where and when you chose. However, this freedom was tinged with apprehension. The shadows around each corner seeming to stretch a little longer in the moonlight.

As you continued to walk you noticed a group of figures leaning against the wall of the local convenience store. They weren’t the usual Socs you had to watch out for; these were greasers, some you recognized from around but never really interacted with. They were the kind who respected your brothers too much to ever say much to you, treating you as something akin to a community sister—off-limits and under the invisible protection of the Curtis household.

Tonight, however, with your brothers not around their demeanor shifted. As you passed by, their casual lounging straightened into something more attentive. "Hey, Y/N, out for a midnight stroll?" one of them called out. His tone teasing but carrying an edge you didn’t trust.

You offered a tight smile trying to get them to leave you the hell alone. You quickened your pace hoping to put distance between yourself and the group, but their laughter and footsteps seemed to echo menacingly in the quiet night. They flanked you loosely. Careful not to touch but making sure you felt their presence close and threatening.

"Come on, Y/N, don't be so uptight," one of them sneered. His voice a blend of mockery and veiled threat. "We're just curious why the cute little Curtis girl is all by herself tonight. No big brothers to call?"

Their words were meant to intimidate. They reminded you of the precariousness of your situation. The unspoken rule among the greasers—that you were off-limits because of your brothers' reputation—seemed thinner now. The line between respect and risk blurred by the night and their growing boldness.

Another from the group, a lanky figure with a smirk that didn't reach his eyes, leaned a little too close. "Yeah, where's Dallas tonight sweetheart? Too busy to keep an eye on his favorite girl?" He snickered as you tried walking faster. Their insinuations were clear. They wouldn't dare cross a line that could lead to a direct confrontation with the Curtis brothers or Dallas, but they found amusement in pushing you to the edge of your tolerance. You were an easy target without the usual protection of your family's presence, and they exploited that isolation.

You tried to keep your voice steady. Your fear masked under a veneer of confidence. "Look, I don't want trouble. Just leave me alone."

But their amusement only grew with your discomfort. "Aw, she wants to be left alone," mocked another. His tone dripping with false pity. "What do you say, guys? Should we give the princess her space?" Their laughter filled the air. It was a harsh contrast to the otherwise silent night. You realized then that your attempts at diplomacy were futile. Their respect for your family held them back only so much and without a tangible deterrent they felt free to torment you.

The vulnerability of your situation crystallized in your mind. You were truly alone and the protective bubble that had always surrounded you provided by your brothers and their fearsome reputations had momentarily burst. The reality of the streets, harsh and unforgiving, pressed in on you. The idea of finding a way out of this tightening circle became a desperate need.

As the tension around you escalated the distant rumble of a motorcycle engine suddenly cut through the night. The sound grew louder, more distinct, until it was clear that it was Dallas’s bike. A familiar, comforting noise in the otherwise threatening situation. The group surrounding you turned toward the sound with uncertainty flickering across their faces.

Dallas wasn’t merely out for a ride. He was on a mission. After the heated argument at home and your abrupt departure, Soda had grown increasingly worried. He knew how headstrong you could be and despite his own urge to go after you he recognized that you might not take well to him or Darry showing up. Instead, he’d grabbed the phone and called Dallas before explaining the situation and his concern. “She might listen to you, man. She’s really upset, and who knows what could happen out there tonight,” Soda had said with his voice tense.

Acknowledging the urgency, Dallas had immediately revved up his bike and headed towards your usual haunts. His instincts telling him where you might be. As he spotted the group around you his worry turned into protective fury. He pulled up sharply, the bike’s engine cutting off as he dismounted swiftly. His presence commanding and his expression thunderous.

“What’s going on here?” Dallas demanded. His voice a cold, hard slash through the tension. The greasers hesitated as they were caught off guard by his sudden appearance and the unmistakable threat in his posture.

One of them tried to play it cool, “Just chatting, Dal. No harm meant.” But the nervous glance he shot his friends told a different story.

Dallas stepped closer, his eyes not leaving yours, ensuring you were unharmed. “Doesn’t look like she’s enjoying the chat. I think it’s time you guys find somewhere else to be,” he said. His tone leaving no room for arguments.

As the group dispersed, mumbling, and avoiding his gaze, Dallas’s stern expression softened when he turned back to you. “Soda called me. He said you took off after the fight. He was worried… and honestly, so was I,” he confessed, his concern palpable.

Relief washed over you mingled with a touch of embarrassment. “I just needed some air, that’s all. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” you murmured while feeling the weight of the night’s events start to settle on your shoulders.

Dallas shook his head slightly. A ghost of a smile appearing. “No one’s blaming you.”

After ensuring the group had actually left and you were safely away from any immediate danger, Dallas didn't immediately urge you onto the bike. Instead, he leaned against it. His expression contemplative as he watched the night settle back into its usual quiet. The tension that had wired every line of his body seemed to relax slightly as he turned to look at you standing there in the dim streetlight.

“You okay?” he asked. His voice softer this time, filled with genuine concern. The protective anger had faded leaving room for something more tender.

You nodded while trying to muster a convincing smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. It was nothing,” you said, attempting to downplay the incident.

Dallas just shook his head. His gaze intense and knowing. “Don’t say it was nothing. I saw your face, the way they were around you. It’s not nothing,” he insisted, his voice firm, indicating that he saw through your façade. Your eyes even in the dim light told him the true story of your fear.

You sighed. The fight draining out of you. It was useless to pretend with Dallas. He always seemed to know how you really felt. “Alright, maybe it shook me up more than I want to admit,” you conceded with your voice softening.

Dallas's expression softened too. His concern replaced with a tender vulnerability. "I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you," he confessed, his voice low. "Seeing those guys crowd you like that... it made my blood boil."

He continued now with his words tumbling out in a restless stream. "You know, it's just... when I think about you out here, all alone, it drives me crazy. Not just tonight, but always, whenever you're out late or when you're working those long shifts at the DX. I'm always wondering if you're safe or if someone's giving you a hard time."

He paused. His brow furrowed as he tried to organize his thoughts. "And it's like, I know we've both been dancing around this… whatever this is between us. Because, what if it gets weird, right? What if it changes everything and then things with the gang get all... I don't know, messed up because of us?"

His hand gestures grew more animated as he struggled to articulate his feelings. His usual cool demeanor unraveling a bit. "And I keep thinking, maybe I should say something, maybe I shouldn’t... It’s just, you mean a lot to me, more than you should, more than I let on."

As Dallas rambled on, his expression earnest and tinged with anxiety, your initial shock at his sudden outpouring began to melt away into something softer, warmer. With each word, each fumbled attempt to express his fears and feelings, your smile grew. The tension that had wrapped around you both that was fueled by the night's earlier events and the years of unspoken emotions started to unravel.

He looked almost comical. A stark contrast to his usual stoic self, as he struggled to piece together the right words. His hands gesturing wildly before he finally paused and admitted, "Dammit, I'm messing this up." Then, with a deep breath, he laid everything out: "Look, what I’m trying to say is—I like you. A lot. More than a friend. More than just someone I hang around with. I like you a lot Y/N."

Watching the transformation in his face from frustration to bare, honest declaration, your heart swelled. When he finally admitted his feelings so directly your smile blossomed brilliantly. The warmth in your chest sparking into joyous flames.

Without a moment's hesitation you closed the small distance between you, flinging your arms around his neck. "I like you too, idiot!" you exclaimed with laughter bubbling up through the words. Your voice was light, teasing, filled with relief and affection. The moment felt like a release. As if all the pent-up emotions had finally been given permission to breathe.

As you stood wrapped in Dallas's arms, the world seemed to fade into a backdrop for this singular moment between you two. The night air, the distant sounds of the city, all fell away, leaving only the sound of your joined laughter and the warmth of his embrace.

With a tender motion that felt both daring and inevitable Dallas leaned in closer. His eyes searched yours for just a moment, asking for permission, and finding no hesitation, he kissed you. The kiss was intimate. A slow melding of lips that spoke of suppressed longing and newfound freedom to express everything that had been held back for so long.

As he pulled back a mischievous smirk played across his lips. "Did you just call me an idiot?" he teased his voice low and playful.

The absurdity and sweetness of the moment overwhelmed you and laughter spilled from you in a joyful cascade. "Maybe I did," you admitted with a grin. Your happiness bubbling over. "But you kind of deserved it, don't you think?"

Dallas's smirk broadened into a full smile, rare and striking on his usually reserved face. "Yeah, maybe I did," he agreed. His voice warm with affection and amusement.

Standing there with Dallas under the streetlight with his arms still around you, the night took on a different hue. What had started as an angry escape from home had transformed into a pivotal chapter in your story. One filled with unexpected confessions and the thrill of mutual feelings finally acknowledged. The laughter between you two echoed softly in the quiet street. A sound of lightness and promise as you both reveled in how wonderfully the night was turning out.

With a last chuckle shared between the two of you Dallas's expression shifted back to one of concern. The protective streak that had driven him to you tonight reasserting itself. "We gotta get you home," he said with a slight frown creasing his brow as he considered the potential fallout of the evening. "You probably gave Darry a heart attack, running out like that."

He then took a helmet from the back of the bike and carefully placed it on your head, his fingers deftly securing the straps to ensure it was snug. “Gotta keep you safe,” he murmured, almost to himself. With a gentle but firm hand he helped you onto the bike. His protective nature in full display.

Once you were settled he climbed on in front of you. “Hold on tighter,” he instructed with a note of concern in his voice. He had always been reluctant to have you on the bike thinking you were too precious to be exposed to the risks. An ironic sentiment considering the circumstances.

You wrapped your arms around him, holding on tighter as he had asked. The security of his presence enveloped you. The bike roared to life beneath you and as you sped away the cool night air whipped around you carrying away the remnants of fear. Riding with Dallas you felt a profound sense of safety. A stark contrast to the vulnerability of just moments before.

As you and Dallas pulled up to the Curtis house with the engine's rumble cutting through the quiet of the late night, you could already see Darry pacing on the porch. His silhouette tense against the dimly lit doorway. The moment you stepped off the bike the worry and anger in Darry's eyes were palpable. Seeing you arrive not alone but with Dallas at the helm visibly escalated his anxiety to fury.

"Dallas?!" Darry's voice boomed across the yard. His tone thick with disbelief and rising anger. "Of all people, you had to show up with him?"

As Darry's anger surged forward Dallas's response was remarkably restrained. Despite his usual readiness to fight back or stand his ground, tonight was different. He understood the weight of the moment and the emotions driving Darry's actions. As Darry advanced, Dallas's stance was defensive but not aggressive. He raised his hands, palms outward, in a clear gesture of peace.

"Darry, listen—" Dallas started, his voice calm but firm, attempting to de-escalate the tension. He didn't want to fight, especially not tonight, not over this. And certainly not with you watching, worried and tense.

But Darry was blinded by worry and anger. He wasn't ready to listen. His fist swung out, more a reaction to the overwhelming stress of the night than a genuine intention to harm. Dallas didn't dodge. He took the hit. The impact of the punch landing solidly, the pain sharp but expected. Dallas's head snapped to the side, the force leaving a darkening mark that would soon swell into a black eye.

Even as he reeled from the blow, Dallas's focus remained on trying to settle the situation without further violence. "I'm not here to cause trouble, Darry," he said while steadying himself. His voice still level. "I just wanted to make sure she was safe." As tensions flared between Darry and Dallas you were quick to intervene with your voice rising in the cool night air, laced with shock and frustration. Seeing Dallas willingly take the hit and not fighting back against Darry's sudden burst of anger, ignited your own protective instincts.

"Darry, stop! What are you doing?!" you exclaimed while rushing forward to place yourself between them, your hands pushing against Darry's chest as you faced him squarely. The sight of Dallas, holding his face, clearly in pain yet standing down fueled your words with an urgency and a sharpness.

"He was just trying to help! He didn’t come here to fight," you continued. Your voice breaking slightly under the strain of emotion. "He protected me tonight when I needed it. How can you just hit him like that?"

Your words, impassioned and direct, seemed to pierce through the haze of Darry's anger, reaching him in a way that visibly shook his resolve. He glanced from your upset face to Dallas's subdued expression. The reality of his actions settling in heavily. The tension in his shoulders eased as he took a step back. His fists unclenching as he took in the full scene—his sister defending the very person he had instinctively seen as a threat.

The situation gradually deescalated with your firm intervention reminding everyone involved of the deeper bonds and mutual concern that held your group together. Darry's posture softened, his expression morphing into one of regret and concern. Not just for you but for the unnecessary harm he had caused Dallas. "I... I'm sorry," Darry finally muttered. His voice low, directed at both you and Dallas. "I wasn't thinking straight. I shouldn't have hit you."

This conciliatory moment that was sparked by your emotional plea helped to bridge the gap of misunderstanding and tension, allowing for a more open and honest discussion about the night's events and the feelings involved. It was a raw but necessary confrontation that ultimately strengthened the understanding and trust within your family.

As Soda emerged onto the scene he quickly assessed the tension, noting the standoff and Dallas holding his eye. The atmosphere was charged but already cooling as you stood firmly between Dallas and Darry bridging the gap with your determined presence.

Seeing that the initial fury had subsided, and words were taking the place of fists, Soda's intervention was gentle but firm. "Alright, what’s going on here?" he asked. His tone carrying enough authority to ensure no further escalations.

Darry, still caught in the mix of anger and regret, glanced at Soda, then back at you and Dallas. The anger in his eyes had dimmed instead replaced by a recognition of his overreaction. "I... I overreacted," Darry admitted. His voice low and carrying the weight of his apology. "Sorry, Dallas."

Dallas, still nursing his eye but visibly calmer, gave a slight nod in acknowledgment, accepting the apology without further conflict. His gaze met yours briefly. A silent thank you for your defense and understanding. Soda's eyes moved between the three of you, his expression easing into relief as he realized the worst was over. "Let’s just take a minute here," he suggested, his voice light but carrying an underlying seriousness. "No more surprises tonight, okay?"

His casual demeanor helped to dissipate the remaining tension serving as a reminder that despite the upheaval the bonds within your group remained strong. With a brief clasp on Darry's shoulder, Soda signaled that it was time to move past the conflict.

“Let's head inside. We all need to cool off,” Soda finally said, indicating the porch as a way to leave the incident behind physically and metaphorically. This simple suggestion helped to restore a sense of normalcy, guiding everyone back into the safety and familiarity of the house.

As the tension dissipated and everyone moved inside you led Dallas to the couch. Your focus on his well-being showing clearly through your gentle care. You fetched some ice, wrapping it in a towel, and carefully applied it to his swollen eye. Dallas, tough as always, tried not to wince but the grateful look he shot you didn't go unnoticed.

Soda leaned against the doorframe, a teasing smile playing on his lips. "Looks like Dally's finally found someone who can knock him off his feet," he quipped. His tone light but his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes with a warm flush spreading across your cheeks as you focused on adjusting the ice pack. "Shut up, Soda," you muttered. Unable to suppress a smile. Your blush deepened, giving away more than you intended.

From across the room Darry observed the scene, his expression shifting from concern to curiosity as he noted the interaction. Finally, he cleared his throat, deciding to address the elephant in the room. "So, what's going on with you two?" he asked. His voice direct but not unkind.

You paused, meeting Dallas’s eyes for a brief moment before responding. "I like him. He likes me. We're going to see where it goes," you stated simply, honesty in your tone. Soda's reaction was immediate and enthusiastic. He punched the air lightly, a wide grin spreading across his face.

Dallas who was caught a bit off guard by the straightforward declaration and Soda’s exuberance, chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief at how the night had turned out. Then, turning towards Darry, who still seemed to be weighing his feelings about the situation, Dallas spoke earnestly.

"Look, Darry, I know I’m not the kind of guy you pictured for her. But I promise you this, no one's gonna look after her better than me," Dallas said. His voice carrying a sincerity that filled the room. "She means more to me than just... well, anything."

Darry looked at Dallas, then at you, and then back at Dallas again searching for any hint of insincerity. Finding none and moved by Dallas's words, he finally nodded, a reluctant smile breaking through his initial reservations. "Alright," he conceded, "just... make sure you keep that promise."

The room relaxed into a quiet, comfortable silence, filled with new understandings and quiet acknowledgments of the shifts in your relationships. As you continued to hold the ice to Dallas's eye, a soft smile played on your lips, both of you sharing a moment of quiet connection grateful for the night's unexpected revelations and the paths they were paving forward.

In the weeks that followed your night of revelations life settled into a new rhythm with Dallas at your side. The change was subtle but profound, marked not by grand gestures but by quiet moments that spoke volumes about the depth of your connection. Whether hanging out at the Curtis house or spending time together at the DX, you and Dallas found your stride, intertwining your daily lives with ease. The gang's initial teasing faded into a background hum instead replaced by an unspoken acceptance as they witnessed the genuine care between you two.

One evening as you both sat on the hood of his car, parked at a lookout point overlooking the town, Dallas broke the comfortable silence. "I never planned on any of this," he said. His tone reflective. "But now, I can’t imagine it any other way."

You smiled as your hand found his in the dim light. "Life’s funny like that," you replied. "The best things happen when you least expect them."

Dallas gave a half-smile while squeezing your hand gently. "Yeah, they do," he agreed. He looked out at the view, the lights of the town twinkling below, a mirror to the stars above. "With you, it’s different. It’s better. And I want to keep it that way."

"Then we will," you said simply. The promise hanging in the air, easy and assured.

As you both sat there with the night deepening around you, the challenges of the past seemed like distant echoes. The road ahead wasn't clear and life with the gang was never without its ups and downs, but together, you felt ready for whatever might come. In the quiet solidarity of the moment, you knew that as long as you both held on to this shared sense of understanding and respect. You could face the future with confidence.

With the stars overhead as witnesses and the gentle night breeze as your accompaniment the simple yet profound realization that you were exactly where you needed to be cemented itself in your heart.

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[biteofcherry]

His harlot starlet

Cherry Masterlist

enforcer!Steve Rogers x female reader

warnings: x-plicit; no plot just holes 🤭; consensual; mild power imbalance; a tiny bit of degradation; spitting; unprotected;

Author's note: This is a short little sprinkling of filth, because I couldn't get the image out of my head. It sets after at least a few dates between Steve and Cherry, so they're quite established, but Cherry is still very new to all the dirty things Steve does to her.

Minors DNI; this work is only 18+

Your thighs shake. The strain in your muscles is a novelty you never expected to experience, since you considered yourself in moderate shape with all the bike rides you liked to take on weekends.

It seemed riding a bike, or even running after your energetic nephew, had little in common with surviving sex with Steve.

Or maybe it was the position you weren't used to maintain for so long.

On your knees, your upper body bent forward and pressed into the mattress as Steve ruined you.

Your fingers clenched on the sheets, your breathy whimpers and spots of saliva forming a stain on the fabric. He kept you in that position in what felt like hours, feasting on your pussy from behind.

Big hands held you in place, Steve's calloused fingers digging into your soft flesh. He licked you in reverence, sucking one orgasm after another, until you were quivering and begging.

You didn't think it was the pleading that made Steve stop. He was always very attentive to your reactions, but despite his soft cooing he rarely showed mercy. And you secretly loved that he pushed you further, beyond any limits you imagined you had.

So when he relented, you knew it wasn't because you were oversensitive, but rather because his own desire to sink his cock inside your fluttering, sopping cunt was too high for him to ignore.

A strangled cry fell from your lips when Steve tapped the head of his cock against your swollen clit, then dragged it between your slick folds to your opening.

The head barely caught in and you let out a desperate moan.

It was astonishing, the types of sounds Steve could draw from you. Never before him had you made more than some soft, little moans when you had sex, or played with yourself. With Steve, however, you couldn't help the cries, the whimpers and wailing, the stretched-out groans and mewling.

Each new sensation, each new wicked debauchery, elicited a new kind of sound.

So it shouldn't be a surprise to hear yourself make a strange, pitiful squeak, when Steve took your wrists and placed your hands on your ass as he ordered you:

"Spread yourself for me."

You felt a wave of scorching embarrassment wash over you; your forehead pressing into the sheets to hide your shame as you complied.

Fingers slightly trembling, you pulled your buttcheeks apart, trying hard not to imagine how it had too look for Steve from his point of view.

Your naked body presented for him so lewdly; no resistance from you, no matter what dirty, degrading things Steve asked of you.

"You look so fucking hot, Cherry," Steve praised, running one of his hands along your back and over the globe of your ass.

He squeezed your fingers in short reassurance, before splaying his fingers over your ass, thumb rubbing along the crease.

"Always looking beautiful and sexy, my good girl." He rewarded you sinking a few inches further into you, humming at your breathy moan as his girth stretched you.

"You are my good girl, aren't you?" You couldn't help the shudder that rocked your whole body when Steve's thumb circled your anus.

"Yes, Steve," though he didn't ask it of you, the praise and reminder of being his, made you even more eager to please Steve.

You tried arching your back more, pressing your face into the crumpled sheets, your fingers strained as you held yourself spread wider apart.

"Always want to be your good girl." It was a need as desperate as your need to come, maybe even stronger.

There was that calm hum again, as if Steve was considering something as he pushed the rest of his dick in. Filling you to the brim.

His thumb ran over your tight hole again, then stopped above it. A short pause in any movement, filled with the hammering of your heartbeat echoing in your head.

Then a small, wet splash landed on your puckered hole.

Your toes curled and your grip on the sheets tightened as a ragged gasp bubbled on your lips.

Steve spat on your asshole.

Shock and shame, and unrecognizable dirty arousal filled your body.

Your walls clenched around Steve's cock and he moaned a quiet curse.

"You liked that, Cherry," he didn't ask, he stated; thumb smearing his saliva around your rim.

"My sweet little Cherry," still teasing your hole, Steve started fucking you in slow, deep strokes, "spreading herself for me like a needy slut. Getting turned on when I spit on her tight asshole."

"My harlot starlet."

His words were like a hot jolt, stiffening your nipples and zinging to your clit. Bordering on degrading, but Steve spoke them so sweetly, with no malice, that they felt like a caress of a poetic compliment.

"You want more, baby?" His hips slapped against your backside, jolting you forward as his thrusts gained in force.

"Please, Steve," you weren't sure what you begged for, too overwhelmed with the coil that tightened in your belly.

Another dollop of saliva landed on your asshole and your pussy reacted with the same excited flutter.

Then Steve's thumb was gathering that wetness and pushing it inside, his digit stretching your yet unused hole.

A softened, broken shriek of your climax filled the bedroom, transforming into a string of tiny, sharp cries as Steve's thrust continued to spear you.

His cock was relentlessly abusing your walls, despite the strangling tightness; as he kept his thumb lodged in your ass.

"I've got you, Cherry," Steve's voice turned strained, his grunts matching your moans. "That's it, just take it. Take it like the good little slut you are."

His other hand moved from its bruising grip on your hip to clench on your shoulder. Steve leaned forward, draping more of his weight over you as he kept fucking you in a rough, fast pace.

With this angle the head of his cock repeatedly nudged a particularly sensitive spot in your channel, that had you rapidly reaching another peak.

The thumb in your ass rotated, sensation of it making you shudder and gasp. It teased you with the image of your hole being stretched wider. With more fingers. Maybe with Steve's cock.

Hot breath fanned your year when Steve pressed his cheek to the side of your head; his scruff scratching the overheated skin of your cheek.

"Maybe next time, I'll spit in your mouth."

Your eyes opened wide then fluttered close and your lips parted on a pitiful moan as another orgasm cinched your muscles.

"Fuck!" Steve cursed when you leaked around him.

"Cherry, baby," he kept blabbering, his face nestled in the crook of your neck as Steve chased his own release in jerky thrusts.

Consciousness swimming in the clouds and body completely pliant beneath Steve, you didn't wonder why the idea of Steve spitting made you come so hard. Nor why the sweetly voiced degradation made you melt for him.

As you didn't think why, once again, you forgot about the condom.

[hazbinhazmeinachokehold]

Hey! So I really liked your child + overlords, and I’ve been watching too many horror movies lately, so I was thinking; what if a kid like Samhain (Sam from “Trick r Treat”) was the kid.

He’s not even an overlord but how would they be with him when he clearly likes them, he shares candy with them, follows them around, and likes to cozy up with them. (especially since he’s as old as hallow’s eve itself and still kinda acts like a child, but never had a caretaker or someone to consider family) But when someone tries to hurt them, Sam does something super horrific to their attacker that would even creep Alastor out? But then he goes back to the lovable Sam that they know but what’s their reactions?

A/n: I haven’t watched Trick or Treat, so I based off a few clips I watched. Also by attacked them, I assume you mean the overlord? I’m so sorry if not!!! :( 

!!!not proofread!!!

Alastor: Very intrigued by you. Which, knowing Alastor is the reason he was nice to you in the first place, which spiraled into friendship. You were unnaturally cuddly. Which Alastor would usually hate, but, for some reason, he didn’t mind with you. Also, you kept giving candy? He wasn't entirely sure where you kept getting it because the hotel didn’t have any, but it was a sweet gesture nonetheless. One day both of you were going for an evening stroll. Until some, to put it frankly, idiot, attacked Alastor. Well tried to at least. Most people couldn’t get a scratch on him and this was no exception. What was different this time was that it was him who drew screams out of the sinner.  Instead, you, sweet, kind, you, were the one responsible.  You ended up disturbing Alastor, which is hard to do, so good job!  But after you were done you reverted back into your innocent self. Has a new reason for why he likes you after that day.

Rosie: I mentioned this in my overlord post but, mother figure. She will give you candy as well! (Just don't eat it if you're not a cannibal) She’ll make sure she always has time for you. And even when she is spending time with others she is not opposed to you tagging along. You and she had just bought some candy and were on your way back to cannibal town. You and Rosie were having a lovely conversation before someone tackled Rosie to the ground. She was able to push them off rather fast before you jumped in. Rosie was kinda shell-shocked. But despite how eldritch horror-esque the scene was, she was used to this because of Alastor. She was more surprised that it was you of all sinners. After you were done you turned back into your nice self. Tbh she doesn’t really care, she treats you the same. 

Vox: I’m going to be honest with you bestie he doesn’t like you at first. He didn’t hate you or anything, just didn’t particularly care for you. That being said, you do grow on him. He doesn’t eat the candy you give him (weirdly enough he can though. We see him eat popcorn in the final.) I don’t know bro just isn’t going to eat candy some random kid gave him from who knows where. Also, you're always in the ads. it wasn’t on purpose at first but soon he would just casually hold you in the ads, he never mentions it though. One day he’s going to film an ad and you are tagging along as you always do. When somebody tries to attack Vox with a bat, but they were stopped in their tracks by you. Vox just stared at horror and amazement as you made the sinner pay. After the horror wears off the dude is amazed. If you weren’t friends before you are now. Despite the fact that you’re, y’know, a child, he kind of uses you for scary dog privileges.

Velvette: Surprisingly accepting of you. Would probably post pics with your candy and cuddling with you. She does just straight up like you even without social media. Velvette is the youngest overlord which makes her a pretty easy target. So while it wasn't a surprise for her to get attacked how you responded was. Out of instinct, she starts recording not just to post it, I mean yes that too, but also to make sure what she was seeing was real. Which was especially needed after you went back to your cutesy self. Despite how unbelievable it was she was pretty indifferent at the end of the day. Will ask you if you can do that more for photos though.

Carmila: New mother part 2. Though admittedly she isn't one for cuddles or candy. She does take it and cuddle to make you happy. Very protective of you. You are kind and she doesn't want you to get hurt, thankfully she doesn't have to worry about you. Someone attacking the overlord who makes weapons isn't wise, but as you’ve probably learned by now, messing with someone you care about is even more stupid. She wants to stop you but also doesn't want to hurt you or get herself in the crossfire. But hey now she knows you can protect yourself. Maybe even against an exorcist without angelic metal because holy fuck. Anyway, now she trains with you.

  (A/n: Bro Tumblr fucking deleted this when I was ¾ done with it.)

[pagannatural]

2.11 Playthings 👭👬

-episode of my life. If you only ever watch one episode of supernatural let it be this one. Creepy dolls creepy dollhouse creepy little girls a lonely Connecticut inn a desperate drunken tousle between the incest brothers. It doesn’t get any better than this.

-Dean gives Sam a hard time about suggesting a case after they’ve been looking for Ava for a month. Dean doesn’t even know Ava, but he’s spent the last month looking for her because it was important to Sam. When Sam doesn’t respond to Dean’s teasing, he backs right off. Dean is controlling and possessive but he is also respectful and considerate because he thinks the world of Sam.

-Dean says Sam’s attitude “is just way too healthy for me, I’m officially uncomfortable now” which is funny because it’s not true that Sam’s attitude is healthy and he will get drunk and misbehave about it, but it checks out that Dean is uncomfortable with healthy dynamics.

-Sam smirks at Dean’s joke in this really cute way. It shows that he still looks up to Dean, even though he wouldn’t admit it.

-the innkeeper mistakes them for a gay couple and assumes they’ll want a king sized bed and Sam says “what? No—no two singles. We’re just brothers.”

Spot the difference between these two pictures

That mighty flustered, genuinely panicky “just brothers” sounds exactly like a “we’re just friends” moment between a will they/won’t they couple and it’s so weird that he says it that way. A normal answer would be “oh this is my brother” and then everybody moves on. But this is a tv show and there’s a reason for this scene to be included in this episode. It highlights that the nature of their relationship as brothers is more layered, and this messy denial tells the viewer that there is a romantic/sexual layer.

Back in Asylum in s1, Dean was mistaken for Sam’s boss specifically to make it clear to the viewer that Dean had more authority in their dynamic at the time, which played into Sam’s anger at Dean. This is a similar way for an outsider’s interpretation of the relationship to shed light on it. Their individual reactions to the assumption that they’re a romantic couple are meaningfully different—Sam is embarrassed and nervous like he’s been caught. Dean is feeling some kind of way.

He looks guilty, like he’s doing something wrong. He played along with people thinking he and Sam were a couple in Bugs and went as far as to slap Sam’s ass and call him honey. He seems pretty comfortable with his sexuality and with people being gay in general, like the joke he made about the only real thing about him being his boobs or the time he sarcastically told a scowling male store owner that his smile really lights up a room. He’s playful, he’s not weird about it (until season 8 but that’s another post). So something else is going on here.

His attitude toward this kind of mistake has changed since season 1. A lot has happened, but I think the point at which things shifted for Dean was that moment in Croatoan when he decided that he was going to stay with and protect Sam when they thought he was infected. The episode was a major turning point for Dean. That’s what pushed him to finally tell Sam what John said, and it was the first time Dean really thought Sam was going to die. It also paralleled the scene from Provenance in which Sam almost puts his feelings for Dean into words. Back then, Dean was able to take control of the situation to avoid Sam’s feelings and his own. In Croatoan, he’s the one forced to consider his feelings and why he would live and die and kill for Sam, and Sam alone. It’s no longer possible for him to ignore the feelings between them. He knows or suspects strongly that Sam has feelings for him, and now he can’t deny that he does too. It’s one of his major conflicts moving forward.

-Dean asks Sam why people always assume they’re gay, saying it’s a “troubling question,” and Sam says “you are kind of butch. They probably think you’re overcompensating” which Dean takes in as though it’s an equally troubling revelation. They look like a couple, and therefore they look queer, from the outside: Sam with his shy demeanor, soft voice, longish hair, deference to Dean in most situations (Dean goes to the front desk, Sam hangs back a little, his body mostly facing Dean), and just general feminine-coding throughout the show. Dean with his cropped hair, gravelly voice, overconfidence, and constant womanizing.

Queer people have this shared experience of never feeling like they’re doing masculinity or femininity correctly, and knowing or realizing that other people can tell they don’t fit in, but not really being able to name what they’re doing wrong. Sam is too feminine and Dean is too masculine and when they’re together they read as a gay couple.

Croatoan drew attention to this too, but again, it’s not really about coding them as lgbt, it’s about coding them as queer and incestuous in a gothic, monstrous way. They are Other and it’s in their blood just like the monsters they hunt.

-Dean has Sam pretend to love dolls, to further underscore his feminine role in their relationship for the viewer. It would be so cute if Sam really did love dolls as a kid.

-Dean tells Sam not to look at porn in their room, apropos of nothing.

-someone else dies. Shot of Sam, damsel, gazing out the window of his tower as the body is carried out and Dean talks to the innkeeper.

Dean goes into their room, where Sam is sitting facing away from the open door in a way that feels foreboding, like something is wrong. It’s similar to the shot of Rose a little later in the episode, with her in her chair facing away from the door.

Sam is drunk because he couldn’t save the guy who died, and “the more people I save the more I can change.” He’s afraid of becoming corrupted and at least some part of him believes that he will (that he already is) and needs to make up for it.

Sam says Dean has to watch out for him “and if I ever turn into something that I’m not you have to kill me.” He argues that John said Dean has to and Dean says “Yeah well dad’s an ass” which is a very bold thing for Dean to say about the dead father he once idolized. He obeyed John to keep Sam safe, and he’s finally letting himself be angry with John.

Sam says even now everyone around him dies. He says “please, Dean, you’re the only one who can do it. Promise.”

So Sam is drunk and in crisis over believing that he will become evil, in this episode that makes sure to emphasize the sexual undertones in his relationship with his brother, in an interaction that looks charged and erotic. He’s begging his brother to kill him rather than let him fall, holding onto Dean’s shirt and pulling him down toward him, his eyes locked on Dean’s.

Dean says “Don’t ask that of me” but Sam gives him the puppiest tear-filled eyes so Dean lies, he says “I promise.” At this point Sam is sitting on his bed and Dean is leaning over him, Sam grasping his shirt to keep him close and keep his attention.

Sam looks at Dean’s lips, says “thank you,” inhales, and grabs Dean’s face in both his hands, his thumb near the corner of Dean’s lip. It looks like he’s trying to kiss Dean. The fact that he inhaled rather than exhaled also just makes it feel more like a lead-up to something rather than a conclusion.

Dean pushes Sam away, closing his eyes as if conflicted, Sam still holding onto his face. It’s a little aggressive. Dean has to shove Sam off of him forcefully.

Dean pushes Sam onto his back on the bed, where he watches him turn to his stomach and nestle into the mattress, arching his lower back with his face in the pillow. Dean puts a hand over his mouth and traces his lips, his eyes dragging over Sam’s body.

Just describing the basic mechanics of this scene makes its eroticism clear. Dean touches his lips after Sam looks at them in a gesture loaded with restraint and tension. It’s another of those scenes that usually happen between romantic leads: the woman gets drunk and confesses something and/or needs to be taken care of and the man treats her respectfully but not so respectfully that he isn’t a little seduced. Dean could have let Sam kiss him (or do whatever he was going to do), but he has so many reasons not to: fear of hurting him, of Sam leaving him, of betraying his role as his savior and protector. Dean’s self worth comes from loving Sam, so if he loves Sam Wrong he feels worthless.

And that’s to say nothing of the fact that Sam is begging Dean to take ultimate control over his body by deciding whether he lives, and deciding whether he’s good or bad. His fears are soothed by the idea that whatever happens he can be Dean’s, he can belong to his brother. He’s okay with dying only if it’s by Dean’s hand. His whole life he’s felt something was wrong with him, so if it’s true and Dean confirms it, he is the only one who can kill it. The corruption in Sam (in both of them) has already been heavily linked to blood and their relationship and now Sam is verbalizing it—No! We’re just brothers. Why does everyone assume we’re gay? Sam holding Dean’s face, drunk, saying there is something wrong with me and it’s your responsibility. Please, you’re the only one who can do it.

-Sam is throwing up the next morning. Dean says something gross about a sandwich in an ashtray that makes Sam gag and say “I hate you” and Dean says “I know you do.” The way Dean says this sounds like he really thinks Sam hates him, which came up in Asylum as well. After last night, this has to have something to do with Sam’s feelings for him and the fact that Sam thinks Dean is the only one who should kill him. He thinks it’s tied to Sam hating him and his self-hatred for loving Sam wrong.

-Maggie tells Tyler “I can’t leave this haunted house and you can’t leave me.” Sam and Dean can’t leave the haunted house that is their life because they can’t leave each other.

-Maggie tells Rose “you’d do that for me?” which Sam has basically said to Dean, and “you kept me away for so long I thought you didn’t love me any more” which fits both of them at different times. Rose is the little sister choosing to die so that Maggie doesn’t have to spend eternity alone, and saving Tyler. It’s a creepy, haunting ending that parallels Sam and Dean. The sisters play together forever in a haunted house and the brothers drive off to hunt together out of the haunted houses and motels and backroads they were raised in.

[doodle-pops]

Cosy Autumn Days — Thingol, Beleg, Gwindor & Gil-Galad

Synopsis: Different activities they enjoy participating in during the fall season with you.

Thingol — Walk Through the Forest and Fall Picnic

He was always one for grand gestures, but today, he opted for something simpler. You found yourself walking through the vibrant forest of Doriath, the towering trees ablaze with fiery reds and golds, the crisp scent of leaves filling the air. The crunch beneath your boots was satisfying, and as you strolled, Thingol would occasionally bend down to pick up an interestingly shaped leaf, his fingers brushing yours as he handed it over, knowing how much you enjoyed collecting them—and your extensive leaf collection. It was peaceful in a way you both rarely experienced, but you knew he was enjoying this just as much as you were.

When you finally reached the picnic spot, the grandeur of the setting couldn’t be ignored. A blanket, laid out beneath a massive oak, seemed to glow with the sunlight filtering through the remaining leaves. Thingol, ever the king, had prepared everything—he gestured toward the spread of food, his silent invitation as diplomatic as ever. You sat together, enjoying the hearty autumn meal, the warmth of the cider, and the way his arm casually wrapped around your waist as if it had always been there.

The conversation was light with no formal speeches or declarations of undying love, just the kind of easy banter that comes with a relationship so deeply rooted. He smiled more in these quiet moments, his voice softer as he teased you about your overly dramatic reaction to a particularly sour apple or how you boasted about making the best pies.

“The last time you gave me an apple pie, my love, I required two glasses of water per bite,” he reminded, earning him a groan followed by a glare.

“Hey! They’re supposed to be sweet because sugar and spice pair well,” you muttered with a sassy roll of your eyes.

Taking the opportunity to rest a crown of berries and leaves on your head, he leaned in to kiss your forehead. “Yes, my love. I know this, but ease up on the sugar next time.”

As the sun dipped lower, casting longer shadows, neither of you made any move to leave, as you curled up beside him—his robe acted as your blanket considering his enormity. Upon each your head, a crown of berries and golden leaves rested as a token of his affection.

Beleg — Apple Picking and Leaf Piles

Ever the competitive by nature, and that extended to apple picking. What was supposed to be a relaxed afternoon turned into a game the moment you stepped into the orchard. “Bet I can get more apples than you,” he said, already grabbing the nearest basket. His grin was wide, his hair tousled from the chilled wind, and you could tell he was serious. So naturally, you accepted the challenge.

The two of you raced between the trees, plucking apples with an enthusiasm that had the orchard workers giving you strange looks. And Beleg, with his ridiculous agility, managed to climb halfway up the trees before you’d even filled your basket. He laughed at your exaggerated annoyance, swinging down and handing you a particularly shiny apple as a peace offering. “I’ll share the winnings,” he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

After a while, you both grew tired and ended up in a nearby field, collapsing into a pile of leaves someone had thoughtfully raked up. Beleg didn’t even hesitate before tossing a handful of leaves in your face, and that led to an all-out leaf fight. 20/10 times he pushed you into the piles each time you attempted to crawl out, turning it into a playfight—guess who didn’t hold back and claimed another victory. It wasn’t dignified, but by the time you both lay back, breathless and laughing, with leaves tangled in your hair, you couldn’t have cared less. The sky above was the colour of a late autumn evening, and Beleg’s laugh, warm and rich, echoed in the crisp air.

Gwindor — Telling Ghost Stories and Autumn Rainfall

The autumn rain came suddenly, as it always did in Nargothrond. Luckily, you were inside, warm and dry, listening to Gwindor recount an old tale. As the fire crackled beside you, casting shadows on the stone walls, and though the rain was soft, it created a steady rhythm against the windows. Gwindor, despite his normally serious nature, had a knack for telling ghost stories. His voice was low, dramatic, drawing you in as he painted vivid images of long-lost souls wandering the woods, their faint cries echoing through the trees.

Eventually, the rain began to let up, but you stayed there, wrapped in the quiet comfort of the moment. Gwindor wasn’t always the easiest to pull away from his brooding thoughts, but here, with the rain and the fire, he seemed lighter—less burdened by the past and more present with you.

At some point, you leaned into him, his warmth against the chill of the room. Instinctively, his arm moved around you and the story faded into the background as the rain picked up, the soothing patter pulling you further into the cosy atmosphere. Gwindor shifted slightly, glancing at you with an amused smile. “I think my story’s not scary enough,” he murmured teasingly.

“Only because I have someone as brave as you around to keep the scariness away,” you laughed, resting your head against his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath.

Gil-Galad — Farmer’s Market and Picking Out Treats

Your loving King took you to the market, something he rarely had time for during his reign, but today he seemed determined to enjoy it. The stalls were filled with the harvest’s bounty—bright orange pumpkins, baskets of apples, jars of honey, and spices that filled the air with warmth. You wandered together, hand in hand, as Gil-galad pointed out things he thought you’d like. He was surprisingly knowledgeable about the produce, suggesting different types of apples for pies and cider.

“You’ve got a hidden talent for this, haven’t you?” you teased, nudging him.

“Well, I mean, I have to impress you, don’t I? Show off my knowledge to make you fall for me a little more,” he grinned and wiggled his brows, not even trying to deny it. You picked out ingredients together, and by the time you left the market, your arms were full of pumpkins, apples, and a small collection of baked goods.

Back at your home, you set about making cider and treats together, the kitchen filled with the warm scent of cinnamon and apples. Gil-galad, though graceful on the battlefield, was a bit clumsy in the kitchen. At one point, he spilt flour across the counter, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him standing there, covered in a light dusting of white. “Maybe stick to leading armies,” you joked, trying to wipe some of the flour off his chest, but he only grinned and retaliated by flicking more flour at you.

By the time the cider was ready, you were both laughing, the kitchen a mess of spilt spices and chopped apples. But it didn’t matter. You sat together, sipping the hot drink as the last of the autumn sunlight streamed through the window.

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[rey-jake-therapist]

There's a lot of discourse around shipping lately, treating the concept of shipping a female character (in this case, Galadriel) with a male character as "sexist". Those who say this kind of thing will argue that shipping is equal to treating the female character as "a side character" for a male character, who would be considered by the shipper as the most important character of the two. For the record, this post is inspired particularly by a Reddit post, but I've read these takes many times.

Excerpt of said Reddit post :

People in this fandom center Galadriels entire character around the men she interacts with. Every time she speaks to a man, there is a group of people who start shipping her with that man. It's not even funny anymore how some people here can't talk about her character without bringing up some guy who she interacted with. And this is especially frustrating because a lot of these discussions push her into the wife role. She is "married to Sauron" she is "married to Adar" the ring she wears is totally an "engagement ring". Even though there are two men who also received rings and I don't see anyone calling their rings engagement rings. And then there are some discussions that are downright disgusting, especially the "the stab she received from Sauron is a metaphor for penetration," and I don't mind discussing that. What I have an issue with is the romanticizing of that moment. Because Sauron also stabbed Celebrimbor, but people don't have an issue calling out how fucked up that scene was. It's almost like people are treating her like an accessory to men, when the show doesn't even do that. One of the strongest relationships in season one in my opinion was her relationship to Miriel. But I barely see people talk about that.

Notice how this person says with their whole chest that they're all for the kinky stuff, but not for the romantic stuff; this screams like a person who reads Saurondriel smut in secret, but clutches their pearls as soon as there are feelings involved because "uh, he's evil !".

To see the whole thread, click here. Notice that there are some very intelligent reactions to this claim, proving once again that Reddit is not completely lost. At least, this sub in particular isn't.

I won't start dwelling on the fact that this trend which consists in claiming that romance somehow diminishes a female character is getting very old, it won't be the subject of this post. Others have already breached this subject in a much more articulate way than I could ever do.

When people say they don't like that people ship Galadriel, it almost always means, "we don't like her being shipped with Sauron, yikes". I mean, let's be real : the most popular ship, is, by far, Haladriel. We're the ones being "sexist" here . Tbf with this person, they mentioned other ships as well so I will give them the benefice of doubts. It's also clear that they can't take a joke, because I never saw any shipper, being Haladriel or else, who was serious when they called Galadriel "X's wife", but whatever.

But even if we were serious, what's sexist about that, exactly ? If she's "Sauron's wife", for example, doesn't that make Sauron "Galadriel's husband" as well ? Why is shipping always called out for making the female character "an accessory to the male character", and never as making the male character an accessory to the female character ?Why is it considered reducing towards Galadriel, but not towards Sauron/Adar/Elrond ? Do the male characters gain somehow more than female characters at being shipped ?

The same question can be asked about the sexualization of the characters : it's always considered "outrageous" and "sexist" to sexualize female characters, even when it's done by women (which is almost always the case, in the context of shipping), but generally okay to sexualize male characters, why ? Because male characters supposedly have "the power" in the dynamics, based on their gender ?

I mean, I just find these ideas very reductive.

Now on the subject of Galadriel always being "connected to male characters". Well, first, sorry, but Galadriel doesn't get to spend much time around other female characters, in the show. And even in the books written by Tolkien, errrrr...?? This person mentions Galadriel's relationship with Miriel, that no one talks about. Well, I would love for Galadriel and Miriel to have interacted more, but the fact is that most of her interactions were with Halbrand/Sauron, in season 1. She indeed had an interesting connection with Miriel, but the show dedicated so little time on it that it leaves not much to discuss, really.

And in season 2, it's even more simple: she doesn't interact with any other female character. There's a female Elf in the company who leaves Lindon for Eregion, but the writers didn't even give her a line until episode 7, and when they did they killed her off 10 sec after she opens her mouth for the first time. If she had a good relationship with Galadriel, we have no other choice but imagining it. So, yes, we discuss Galadriel's relationship with men, because this show is very male-centric. And Tolkien's world itself is very male-centric, as a matter of fact. That the fans, and the shippers in particular, are blamed for that is really something.

I would LOVE for other female characters, albeit non canon characters, to be introduced in the show and to interact with Galadriel. I would LOVE Galadriel to have a female best friend, or even a female rivale, an enemy, a colleague, whatever ! And if I hope that Galadriel will return to Numenor, and I think she will because it was hinted more than once (her vision in the Palantir identical to Miriel's, and Miriel's promise to Galadriel that Numenor will return, which could imply Galadriel's involvement), it's also because I want Miriel and Galadriel to resume their relationship. They'd have much to talk about, it'd be great !

Now I'd like to discuss Haladriel in particular, or more generally, Galadriel's relationship with Sauron. Another thing that bothers me with this discourse is that according to this person and many others, too much importance is given to this relationship, wether it's considered romantic or not. "Too much importance" ? Hello ? It's literally this relationship that led to all the events that followed ! In show!canon, I mean, not in the Tolkien lore. From now on, everything I'll write will be related to the show!canon, unless I specify otherwise.

I find very strange, to say the least, to feel criticized because I talk about Galadriel and Sauron, while the entirety of season was built around their relationship : even before they meet, she's obsessede with him. They meet on the sea, she saves him, they are brought to Numenor, they're thrown in jail together, Galadriel insists he's a lost king, he says nay, then he changes his mind, they fight together in the Southlands, she stops him from killing Adar, he does the same with her, they share a moment in the forest, she brings him to Eregion to heal him, then boom, she learns he's Sauron, they fight, and he leaves. And yes, Galadriel gets to interact with other characters, including Miriel, but c'mon now : the first season of this show has made Galadriel and Sauron's relationship the center of it all. Not just Galadriel, no ! Almost everything she does and says is related to Sauron. Is it our fault ? Is it the shippers fault, if the story was written this way ?

And don't get me started on all the sexual and romantic innuendos, that the tenants of this discourse are always prone to deny. "There was nothing romantic in their interactions !", "They were just friends !", "they were just political partners !". Sure, Jan. These innuendos were definitely present, the sexual tension was always present (and for God's sake, no, it wasn't the actors who wanted to jump each other, it was A-C-T-I-N-G). The writers and the directors wanted the audience to think there was, at the very least, a mutual attraction.

In season 2, Galadriel and Sauron barely interacted but they were constantly thinking of each other, especially Galadriel. Again, is it the fans' fault if they saw that and commented on a relationship that was broken, and yet still very present within the narrative ? Is it the shippers' fault if the writers decided to picture Galadriel as an ex lover in pain because her lover deceived her (or a friend deceibed by a fake friend, if that's how you interpret it !) ? Was it the shippers' decision to doll up an Elf woman as a discount Galadriel, so Sauron wouldn't take a break in his obsession for Galadriel ? No, again, it was the writing.

And actually, it makes sense that the writing spent so much time on this relationship in season 2, and will probably continue in season 3, 4 and 5 even if some of you firmly believe that Galadriel "shut the door" for good on him and will never see him or speak to him again. Because we know, this time from the Tolkien lore, that Sauron never stopped trying to grope to see her and her thought :

“I say to you Frodo that even as I speak to you I perceive the Dark Lord and know his mind, or all of his mind that concerns elves, and he gropes ever to see me and my thought but still the door is closed.”

It was literally the showrunners idea that Galadriel and Sauron must have had a sort of a relationship, based on this quote. Putting Galadriel and Sauron in a situationship was never a second thought !

It was meant to be important in the show, and it will remain important, because if it was what started this particular story told by the show, and it will probably be what will finish it as well.

To conclude : I understand why people don't all like Saurondriel... I understand why these same people don't understand why they are shipped, it's perfectly valid. But blaming the fans, and the shippers in particular, for talking so much about Galadriel's connection with Sauron, is speaking in bad faith, or being media illeterate because the writers WANT us to talk about it.

[aeternallis]

It may be a bit of a hot take, but imo Kimchay has always been the most insidious of the three canon couples in KPTS, and I just love that for them.

It's deceptively easy at first glance to assume they're the healthiest/softest couple in the show, because at the onset of their relationship, they meet under the best of circumstances when compared to the other two. They don't have any questionable explicit scenes, and their storyline is almost cut off from the intertwining web of the other two couples' storylines.

But with the exception of their first meeting at the open house, every interaction thereafter—no matter how kind Kim acts, whatever feelings he begins to have for Chay, no matter how guilty he looks each time—takes place against the backdrop of Kim's hidden motives and the looming truth of who he is.

It's always been fascinating to me how KimChay stands out against the other two couples, because unlike Porsche and Pete who have the physical prowess to fight off Kinn and Vegas respectively and reinforce the boundaries they have when these hardheaded mafia men disrespects their autonomy, the only thing Chay has going for him in order to reinforce said boundaries is through mental fortitude. Being blunt with Kim about minding his own business, not answering his call, blocking his number...all these things shows the level of self-respect Chay has for himself when he's been wronged.

We the audience knows this, this isn't anything new. What Chay lacks in physical capability, he more than makes up for by that metaphorical spine of steel.

That’s not to say that I’m minimizing what Porsche and Pete went through; all the Theerapanyakul men are underhanded in some form or another. Porsche and Pete too have the capability in talking back through their own mental fortitude; they would have to, considering the lives they’ve lead thus far. But when push comes to shove, these two also have the added fighting capability—earned through a lifetime of hardship and necessity—to stave off the mafia men’s physical aggression, as we see a couple of times in the show. It’s partly through this fighting capability that they earn Kinn and Vegas’s respect, that they learn the hard way that Porsche and Pete won't be bullied so easily.

I cannot stress enough the fact that there is a difference between loving someone and respecting them.

The honesty between KinnPorsche and VegasPete has always had a brutal edge to it; I think it's why they both get a happily ever after (at least where we leave them off in the show), because they've already seen the worst of each other.

But we know that Chay in contrast isn't a fighter, if his immediate reaction to the kidnappers is anything to go by. One would think that this isn't his first rodeo with an attempted attack in his home (loan sharks and all that), and he’d know some self-defense considering who his brother is. Yet still, his instinct was to call for help, as he probably would do the same had Porsche been there with him.

But as we see in the show, Porsche’s overprotectiveness of Chay is to a point that it becomes detrimental to his safety. After all, why hasn't Porsche taught Chay to defend himself, if they've had experience before of getting harassed in their own home?

It's through mental fortitude alone that Chay can perfectly match Kim, because there is no way for this boy to fight off Kim’s aggression in the way Porsche and Pete can with Kinn and Vegas respectively.

And before I go on, I don't think there's any need to argue that Kim would never show or point towards Chay so much aggression, not when he's already done it:

The only reason Kim let go of his hand in this scene so easily is because he was stunned by Chay's antagonism towards him (besides the fact that he was butthurt af when Chay outright calls him out). This scene, along with the scene before it and the bar fight scene, heavily hints at the sort of aggression that Kim is potentially capable of showing/pointing towards Chay. (I wonder what was the stage direction given to Jeff in this scene that Barcode had to yank his wrist back that hard, yknow?)

I'm pretty sure this was partly the point of this scene below; it begs the question of that unknown dimension between the two of them:

But getting back on point: Chay only has his mental fortitude to match Kim and reinforce his boundaries, but even then, it’s not completely foolproof; given enough time, Kim can find ways to disarm Chay, as we see in their final scene together.

And of course it goes without saying, there are moments in the show where it's very obvious Kim truly returns Chay's affections, even moved and inspired by him. But ultimately, even where the audience is left off in terms of where their relationship is at, Kim doesn't respect him—or rather, he doesn't respect the boundaries Chay has drawn in the sand between them.

If Kim had truly respected those boundaries, he would not have reached out the way he did. He would not have reached out with an unknown number, in order to bait Chay into clicking that video link. He would not have used Chay's own song to re-write it into a love song for him.

Because for all of Chay's mental fortitude, in the end, even if Kim himself did not see Chay's reaction to the video, the end result he likely wanted came about: he found a way for Chay to pay attention to him again and more than that--hold that attention, because Chay doesn't delete the video.

Everything this final scene together entailed is arguably calculated on Kim's part. After all, nothing has changed: it happens against the backdrop of Kim's selfish motive. The motive has changed (from getting information on Porsche to getting Chay back/to forgive him), yes—but the nature of it hasn’t.

I think that's what makes Kimchay's relationship the most insidious of the three in my eyes, because despite everything they've been through so far, Kim still doesn't respect Chay's boundaries, not at this stage of their relationship, if ever. Besides that, Kim can and has found ways to counter Chay's strongest asset, to bring his guard down if you will.

And Chay has nothing else he can use against Kim to reinforce his boundaries, not fighting capability and certainly not distance, alas.

There is definitely a level of selfishness in Kim that surpasses the selfishness also inherent in Kinn and Vegas due to their upbringing, yknow?

It's why they hold my attention so much, I think: the sheer potential they have to become the most unhinged couple in this story, and how much I'm drawn to it like a moth a flame~

[faith-forgxtten-land]

If I may oh-so-humbly request smth else:

Bayverse Leo x back scratches/shoulder rubs

How would Fearless react to a partner that is always ready and willing to help him release the tensions that leading his brothers and being a vigilante cause? Maybe his reaction to the first time his gf comes up behind him when he's sitting on the couch, frustrated at something and starts to knead the tightness from his shoulders?

Thanks again💙

Balm | Leonardo

i'm not kidding when i had a plan to write something along these lines yesterday morning and started writing ideas in my notes app... also, hello, leo's eyes in this gif????

okay this one kind of got away from me i won't lie. even i'm not sure how it ended up how it ended up. so, i'm adding in little headcanons at the start to make up for my detour because i did not expect to get angsty and introspective and barely include what you specifically asked for...

warnings: kind of longer than i thought, i fear it drags. angsty, sad leo, nothing really? fluffy ish too. bad writing that's not proofread. everyone is 18+!! bayverse

summary: leo is tense and brooding but your delicate touch and kind words are what he needs

word count: 1, 375 (incl. headcanons)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

he's not really expecting it at all

gets extra tense the first time and worries a little that his skin is too rough and his muscles are too hard for your human hands

meditation is the be-and-end-all of "relaxation" for him (and he has a tendency to see it as training and a way of pushing himself even if he enjoys it and it's good for him)

so having someone take care of him in such a tender way without any motivation beyond comfort kind of breaks his brain

his shoulders and neck are wrecked

your hands are so tiny on his body that means you have to massage a lot to reach every spot, right? right? he is obsessed now

feels a bit hesitant to ask for a while at first, but you spoil him and he's easy to read

becomes a ritual for the both of you after he's been out on patrol

but you like doing it any time for comfort and intimacy

it's become habit for you to massage or brush your fingers against his shoulders whenever you pass him by

definitely brings you closer together

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Leo couldn’t remember the last time he slept. His head was pounding, an unrelenting percussion beating across his temples, and he could feel a wave of nausea crashing against his chest, a tell-tale sign that he’d been pushing himself too far. It was a sign that he tended to ignore (foolishly so, a mini voice that sounded suspiciously like Splinter chided). His hands trembled imperceptibly, and he gripped his knees to avoid acknowledging it a little longer.

He must’ve been really out of it because he jumped when he felt a pair of warm hands settle upon his shoulders. A burning shame fanned smoke that clogged his throat, a humiliation stitched into his veins that your touch couldn’t cleanse. “Leo?”

He couldn’t reply, letting himself recline and press gently against your palms instead. “Leo,” you murmured again, and he glanced at you tiredly, normally bright blue eyes hollow with exhaustion. You looked pensive and worried, brows drawn and eyes soft, wearing an old shirt he never wore anyway, and he wanted nothing more than to sooth the anxious lines of your face with the fingers that still grasped his knees. A fresh wave of guilt clawed its way into his gut and nestled there. He was worrying you, he knew, and now you weren’t sleeping either. He had warned you before you’d gotten together of what things would be like. Maybe you didn’t believe him at the time, and he wondered if this was the moment you realised and walked out (or he drove you away).

You’d come into his life when things had been eerily calm, and he’d stupidly felt confident that he could juggle everything and still have you, still indulge in something he had refused to let himself consider a realistic possibility. He knew Raph longed for acceptance and comfort and love, and that, despite his insecurities and anger and hurt, he would never stop dreaming of it. Donnie would envisage it quietly, usually agreeing with Leo’s dismissal of acceptance but privately yearning for it more than he’d ever let his family know (but Leo knew). Mikey wanted it too and wasn’t shy about it; he was so happy and sociable and sunny that it made Leo nauseous to repeatedly shut down dreams of the life he deserved. The thing that made Leo truly sick, sick with the world and with himself, was that Mikey truly believed, even after all these years, that he’d succeed in attaining it.

Leo thought he’d succeeded, thought he’d managed to find the thing that tore his brothers up inside without even looking for it (and that only made him hate himself more, something he would never – could never – bring himself to admit to you). You had only been dating a month, but God, he thought he’d found everything he had always refused himself. Love and acceptance outside of his family weren’t things Leo allowed himself to consider before. As a teenager, he’d meditated over and over to clear those useless longings from his mind. Then you appeared in his life out of nowhere like an apparition, offering solace and tenderness, and he didn’t want to refuse himself those impossibilities anymore.

Perhaps he’d been too hasty, it wasn’t like him to throw caution to the wind, to dive in headfirst. He hadn’t considered the implications enough, had been foolish to think he could be a leader, a hero, a brother, and a lover to you, and now here he was trembling and feeling sorry for himself with your sad eyes watching him and cutting straight to his core.

“Mikey got hurt,” he rasped. He’d let Mikey get hurt, he added silently, and somehow you must’ve heard him.

“Mikey is fine, back in one piece thanks to you,” you shot him a half-smile that made his heart stutter even at a time like this. “He was practically bouncing off the walls when his stitches were finished.” 

Leo didn’t reply.

You placed your hand against his cheek, and he clenched his jaw to stop himself nuzzling into its softness. “It’s not your fault.”

“They’re my responsibility and I failed them,” he said simply. They’re my brothers and I didn’t protect them. “Things are getting worse with the Foot Clan and I–” I don’t know what to do.

Your sad eyes were somehow even sadder, and it made his own sting. He blinked quickly. “You’re not infallible and invincible, Blue; your brothers know that, your father knows that. You do your best.” What happened when his best wasn’t good enough? You clasped his jaw tighter, somehow reading his mind again. “You’re more than good enough, you can’t control everything, and you can’t keep carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

The terrapin let you remove his gear, the heavy straps that had been digging into the hardened skin of his shoulders. You pressed soft kisses into the scales, and he closed his eyes at the reverence in your delicate touches as your nails trailed along his shell. “Everything will be okay,” you whispered, the heat of your breath soothing his still-trembling hands and warming his soul. “Your brothers are safe,” another kiss as gentle as moonlight, “I’m safe,” one more to the junction between his shoulder and neck that made his eyelids flutter, “and you’re the most incredible man I’ve ever known.”

Leo hated the shakiness of his breathing, torn between the urge to tense further and wanting to melt into your touch, as your fingers kneaded the strain poisoning his muscles. You pretended not to notice, movements heartbreakingly tender. Had anyone ever been this gentle with him?

“You do more than anyone could ever ask you to. Well,” you amended softly, a hint of fond exasperation colouring your tone, “anyone but yourself.” Your hands continued to work in tandem with your words, one a balm to the aches of his body and the other a balm to the aches your hands couldn’t wash away. “You do so much for this city, for people who won’t ever know it.”

The churrs that rumbled his chest were deep and Leo couldn’t do anything to prevent the unwinding of his limbs and the slowing of his anxious thoughts under the comforting weight of your affection and acceptance. He brought his hand up to clasp one of your own. You were so small it made his heart clench with fear and desire, and for a moment he felt that familiar feeling of inadequacy at his own monstrosity before you chased it away with a loving kiss to each fingertip. He swallowed thickly as you managed to tangle your fingers with his, your hands slotting together with ease. You smiled at him and kissed the top of his head, squeezing his hand, and he pushed himself deeper into your embrace. Looking at your joined hands again, Leo pressed his lips reverently against each knuckle, feeling like if Icarus had somehow managed to cradle the sun. He repeated the kisses once, then twice. Thank you.

You smile wider and he lets you lead him to his bed and your accepting arms.

[outofmydepthatapublicbeach]

to fall in deeper - Julien Baker x lacy!reader

jj chats: this has been one of the longest things ive written on this account and i am very proud of it!!! i hope this lives up to any expectations!!! also i recommend reading the first part before reading this it is linked here!

word count: almost 2000!!!

warnings: RPF, use of y/n, reader is a musician/famous, julien is kinda mean, someone passes out (not the reader, the boys or muna), reader calls julien 'jay'.

inspired by the request: i lovvved your love Julien fic based on lacy SO much!!! you’re crazy talented <3 would you consider writing more parts of it? 🎀🩷 like maybe how julien falls more and more in love and maybe an eventual angry love confession from julien, and their first date/kiss?

feedback is encouraged and i'd love to get some just please be kind!!!

When MUNA went on tour, they asked their dear friends to perform as openers. It was on billboards and spread across social media: “Boygenius and (Y/N): openers for The Greatest Band in the World”. All parties were ebullient, another few months of music, laughter, and fun. Everyone except Julien Baker, Julien wasn’t pleased when she found out you were the other opener. She despised the feeling she got in her gut when your name was mentioned, she couldn’t decide what it meant. She was torn between it being contempt or admiration. She didn’t like not knowing, she didn’t like the fact she couldn’t figure you out, let alone figure out her own feelings for you. 

So far the tour had been faring well. There were huge crowds showing up every night, all screaming out the lyrics to their favorite MUNA hits. Everything was going well, until August 6th, a Friday night. It was exceptionally hot and it was starting to take a toll on the musicians. However  they were all pushing through, they had loud fans backstage that gave them some relief from the heat and could basically get away with no shirt on stage. So far, the night was going well, besides the heat. Lucy and Julien sat in front of a large fan, while Phoebe and you stood in front of another one. MUNA was performing on stage, while you all waited until the last song, “Silk Chiffon” . It was always a nice surprise to the fans when you four came bobbing up on stage singing along, dancing with one another. 

Phoebe sighed, turning towards you “Want to go back with me to get some water?”

Your eyes darted to the right, where your water bottle stood proud and tall, still about half full. “No Pheobs I’m okay! I’ll walk with you though!” 

“Oh no dude you’re good,” The platinum blond turned to Lucy and proposed the same question.

“Yeah my water ran out like 5 minutes ago,” Lucy hopped up from her seat, moving towards an already upright Phoebe who was wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, sweat droplets rolling off. “Be right back guys!” 

Before they turned the corner you checked the time and yelled to the singers “I think there's only two more songs till Silk Chiffon so hurry!” Lucy and Phoebe nodded to you and continued their walk to wherever they were storing the water bottles. Out of the corner of your eye you spotted Julien rolling her eyes.

You turned your body to hers, you ignored her obvious irritation towards you and smiling you asked, “You good Julien? I got some water if you need it!”

“Yeah I’m fine. Thanks.” The tattooed woman replied, curtly. 

“Ohhhkay,” you said, confused by her tone. You thought for a minute going back over the day to see if you did anything that would warrant that reaction. You couldn’t find anything, but you did remember how Julien really hadn’t ever been that cordial to you, not since that night outside the restaurant where she found you crying. In a moment of panic you asked the woman sitting 5 feet from you, “Did I do something?”

Julien turned towards you, obviously dumbstruck by your question. She hesitated before responding, you could practically see the wheels turning behind her eyes, “No, you didn’t do anything.”

Quickly you replied, desperate to figure out where you went wrong. “You act weird around me.”

You could see a flash of panic move over Julien;s face before it was replaced with a look of annoyance. “How do I act weird around you?” Julien asked as if it was the most absurd sentence you could have chosen to have said. 

“You don’t talk to me ever, you avoid me, you don’t reply to my texts in the groupchat. Yesterday on stage you avoided me every chance you got. I get that we aren’t really close but do you have to pretend like I’m not even there? Like I don’t even matter?” Your voice started to strain towards the end of your dialogue, you could feel your eyes start to water.

“I-I don’t-” 

Julien was cut off by a very energetic Phoebe who came skipping backstage.  “We’re on stage in like a minute guys! Grab your mics!” 

You quickly got up, blinking back your tears as you approached a table, grabbing a mic. You settled your breathing as Lucy came up to you. “You okay?” She asked, voice laced with worry.

“Mhm! I’m fine! I think the heat is just getting to me!” You replied, your voice steady. You’re honestly surprised at how fast you pulled yourself together.

MUNA was on stage finishing up their second to last song for the night when Katie yelled into her microphone, “Thank you all for such a gorgeous night! We have one last song! Can you all welcome our guests to the stage please?” The crowd begins to go crazy. 

One by one the 4 of you run out on stage as the band starts playing “Silk Chiffon”. Your eyes scan over the crowd, everyone is having an amazing time, they all look tired, but in a euphoric concert driven tiredness. Until you spot one girl near the front of the barricade. She looks as if she's about to pass out, and the people around her don’t seem to notice. You brush it off, but decide to keep an eye on her just in case something happens.

As the band starts to play the music fills your body, heating your veins with electricity. You move the mic to your mouth as you sing background for Katie. This was always one of your favorite parts of the show, the harmony between all of your voices, the feeling of being alive and showing it through music. Phoebe rushes up to you and grabs your wrist, twirling you around and smiling wide at you. She leans in and gives you a kiss on your cheek before your bodies find natural sync, dancing together. Everything always gets too chaotic when the 7 of you are all on stage. AS your eyes move from  Phoebes to the rest of the talent on stage you spot Julien glaring at you, your cheeks redden and you can’t distinguish whether it's from the heat or the shorter woman's dangerous stare.

Suddenly you remember that girl in the audience and when you look back to her place, you see her almost going limp, merely held up by the sweating bodies around her. Immediately your mind moves fast, remembering your highschool first aid lessons on heat stroke. Your brain quickly runs down her obvious symptoms and realizes it could be severe dehydration or worse, heat stroke. You quickly let go of Phoebe's arm and run backstage to grab a water bottle and someone to help you. 

Phoebe is confused, her eyes follow you backstage until she sees you grab a bottle of water. Too caught up in the moment she thinks you need a drink. She assumes nothing is wrong and then goes over to Jo to dance with her. The others don't realize your absence, too caught up in the song. Except Julien.

Julien was keeping a close eye on you when you were on stage, she saw every time you glanced at that specific spot in the barricade. Though she didn’t follow you, not until you suddenly appeared on the lawn in front of the stage with a medical professional and a security guard. 

You run to the dehydrated woman and then help her get to a cooler spot, and give her small sips of water to hydrate her. You couldn’t care less about the concert at that point, too concentrated on making sure this person was alright. 

Julien’s stomach started to churn, once again you were proving to her that you were perfect. There wasn’t anything Julien could flaw you on at this point. You stopped singing in the middle of a concert to go and take care of someone in need. How could she avoid her true feelings now? 

The song came to a close, and the bands lined up, wrapping their arms around each other's waists and bowing. Naomi, Jo and Katie blew kisses to the crowd and then they all walked offstage, a concert well performed. 

As Phoebe looked backstage she didn’t see you. She turned to the group and asked, “Did anyone see where (Y/N) went?” 

It came as a surprise to everyone when Julien answered, “They went to help someone in the audience, I saw them with medical.” 

Everyone nodded, Jo hoped the person was okay. Katie and Naomi went to ask someone about what had happened. It wasn’t soon after that you showed up.

Walking back to where you had just appeared from, Naomi and Katie both asked you “What happened?”

You told them that “Some girl in the barricade got really dehydrated and passed out, but she’s alright now!” 

A sigh of relief was heard from all 6 people, relieved that everyone was okay. Small chit chat was made until Jo spoke up “Okay I don’t know about you guys but it is hot as hell out here and I am going somewhere with air conditioning!”

“Finally someone said it!”

“Thank god I was starting to think I’d melt,”

Naomi, Katie, Lucy, and Phoebe dispersed after Jo, all talking about some record they’d listened to recently or where to get takeout from.

Julien stayed behind, and just as you were about to follow after the others she caught your arm. You turned towards her, “What’s up Jay?” The nickname leaves your lips in a second before you could think to not say it. 

Julien looked at you strangely and let go of your arm, not really realizing she had grabbed it in the first place. Another round of butterflies flew through her body as you looked at her questioningly.. “That was super cool what you did for that girl. Leaving mid song I mean.” 

You sighed, you were starting to get frustrated with her antics. Did she loathe you? Were you two friends? It seemed every other minute her feelings towards you changed. It was confusing the hell out of you. “Thanks.” You clipped, starting to walk away.

“That’s it?” Julien asked from behind you.

As you turned back around you noticed she stood as if trying to make her 5 foot frame seem taller, not that it was working. “What?”

“‘Thanks.’ That’s all you're gonna say? Normally you're much more chatty,” Julien laughed.

“I don’t know what you want from me Julien.” 

Julien pauses, looking at you with questions written all over her face.

“When I talk to you, you get snippy and you’re mean. When I don’t talk to you, you want me to talk more. I don’t get what your deal is with me?” You whisper-yelled, afraid someone from the crew would see your argument.

“I-” Julien stuttered, not being able to come up with anything to say.

Finally done with the back and forth banter that has been hurting your feelings ever since you met Julien you declared, “If you don’t want to be my friend just say it.”

Julien looked at you, eyes wide. You watched her as the gears turned in her head, trying to come up with what to say. You gave her a chance to explain herself, you set a mental timer of 30 seconds, if she didn’t say anything then you would go away. 

Those 30 seconds flew by without a peep from Julien, your eyes teared up as you spoke, “Fine, I’ll see you later I guess.” Turning around you went to your tour bus, wondering what you did to get Julien to dislike you so.

The only thing going through Julien’s mind was how she screwed up, bad.