#fuck the side pages they're just not happening right now and

[yourcutelittlegayfriend]

✧✦✧ Chapter 2 ✧✦✧

A New Reset, An Old Story

Yandere Platonic Bat Family x Neglected Regressing GN Reader

Warning this part contains: low qual English + corny/cringey usage of it, lots of cursing, emotional stuff, weird hallucinations, and bad editing I guess? was someone there before? Can someone pick me up? MC is being weird.

Note: a bit longer part this time

MASTERLIST Pages ↻ 1 , 3 ...➣

NOW PLAYING ↻◁ ||▷↺ Mona Lisa - Nat King Cole lıılıılılılıılıılı

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How do you act when you feel like your day keeps repeating?.

Would you be content? to just go with the flow? to memorize each of your steps, actions or words?.

Or, would you go crazy? lose your mind and sanity? to see red dancing on the edge of your eyes if you keep remembering the shit that keeps happening to you?.

I would, especially if you went through what I did, all effort I did just gone with one bullet from a gun, from a high fall, a kidnapping gone wrong, get killed by a villian, a sword, a freak accident or maybe just one very very bad day.

Gripping my seatbelt I wait for Commissioner Gordon to open the car's door and let me out, stepping out of the police car with it's siren and lights off, I stand on the graveled road that leads to the stone steps of the old and dark mansion I knew too well.

A little scribbles pops in my vision roughly drawings and crossings on the mansion as if it's giving it an evil and snarling look of a giant man eating beast.

The older man gently stir me up to the porch and I watch as he ring the doorbell - The tiny mean words and drawings floating around the door flew away from the sound - on the side of the giant doors as we wait for anyone to answer.

Tensing when I heard someone's familiar shoes thudding on the otherside of the closed entrance, I step back as I grabbed Gordon's coat and braced myself to put up a new face again.

'By now Alfred should open the doors and be surprised to meet us'. a little tiny voice said by my ear as they hide behind my back- peeking over my shoulder as if they were scared even though they're not the one confronting them anyway.

As soon as they're guess was right, I observe the old event unfolding in front of me seeing Gordon hand Alfred a manila folder and show him what I knew was my DNA test, citizen papers and profile inside.

I stare blankly at Alfred who looked at me with slight pity and worry after he heard that Gordon personally escorted me here because I was supposed to be relocated to my biological father custody more than a few months ago.

'Would have prefer to stay there as well but the broody asshole insisted on one of the last resets and got my hopes up just to go back to becoming #1 fucked up dad on my list'

'Yeah! he's such an asshole!' The voice pipe up with a snort and a laugh while leaning on my shoulder.

I turn back to Commissioner Gordon one last time as he drove off as I sadly wave goodbye from the door before side eyeing the butler who was already watching me.

"Would you like some tea young master?". He kneels down and hold out a hand to me.

I stare at his face as I see glimpse of scratches around the air and scribbles on his face - crude lines to circle around his only slightly older look - a wobbly arrow to point at the small cracks of wrinkles on the edge of his eyes and a small older doodle of him from my old memories comparing his age before a glitch switching between a golden halo to devil horns floated above his head.

Blinking two times suddenly everything turned back to normal as I look at him again properly and I study his white gloved hand before grabbing it in a practiced motion as I keep on with the old scrip that I memorize long ago.

Walking close to him I follow as we pass long dark hallways that was only illuminated the flashing of lightning during the current storm and a few dark oakwood doors each one seemed taller and more menacing than the last as we entered a fairly large kitchen that I grew to love and spent most of my time in before.

He led me to an kitchen island with a marbled top so shiny I can see my face's reflection clearly along with a few stool chair with actual leather covers and I carefully climb before proceeding to watch him prepare me a tea and some of his prized cookies.

While waiting I got lost in my thoughts as I re-assess on what to do in this reset.

'What do I do now? does it even matter?'

'Do we even matter?' the small voice questioned in my ear.

I remember the times I try to use the past knowledge I have to get closer to them but........

'nothing really works for us anyway' again they reply with a murmur and lean on my shoulder.

No matter how hard I try, everything I sacrificed, anything I do nothing happens, sure there were some................. progress but I always get cut off by another death.

'We're just born to do this shit all over again' they spit out now with anger in their voice while I hear their teeth grinding together and their sharp nails digging on my skin.

If nothing else works then.......

Looking down at my bandage hand filled with little doodles from the other children in the orphanage and some cute yet old sticky cartoon bandaids, I relaxed my small hands on the flat marbled surface and breathe out.

I got nothing to lose, 2790 resets made me understand how dumb and starved I am for attention and love.

'So hungry and leaving us Starving-!' They groan and wail in pain before vanishing away.

Snapping my head up I see Alfred gently pushing a nice steaming cup of tea in front of me as well as some cookies on a plate.

I slowly reach out and take the cup before blowing on the warm tea then taking a tiny sip and relish the hidden memories that this tea have brought me.

As I stare at my reflection I see it ripples as my hands shake and my body soon followed as I sniffled and hiccup, Alfred the ever gentleman that he is carefully took a hold of the tea cup as I cry finally cry out.

I cry till my eyes are puffy, I cry as let all the pain I have endured for so long, I cry out and childishly try to wipe off my snot as I asked for my mother to come back.

I cry because

I can.

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After finishing my tea and the cookies Alfred asked me if I wanted to wait for 'my father' before I go to my 'new' bedroom.

I see them in the corner as the shadows collects on that side and rise up to reach the ceiling 'They' shook their head and blared a large rough 'X' in the air then disappear with a flash of lighting coming through from the large windows.

"No,...... it's fine maybe tomorrow". I said looking down before turning up to Alfred and set my plan in motion.

"Mr. Alfred?". I asked as I gently tugged on his slacks making him look down to me.

"Yes young master?". He angles down to me as he put away the dried dishes.

I see 'their' wide and sharky smile behind Alfred's shoulder before popping back down his back.

"Can I stay with you?". I asked tightening my hold on him.

'From now on, nothing else matters except you.........If we can't get a family out of this shitty one then We'll make a new one' They murmur down while twirling a small baby hair on my nape.

But first-

We'll have to prepare for a little reunion.

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U I A U I A A U U I I A

Taglist later because I'm now entertaining food coma bleh *dies*

[vivwritesfics]

Can I request something where lando and y/n are having sex and being really loud that their neighbours or whoever is on the other side of the wall makes one if those funny tiktoks where the caption is " dancing to the beat my neighbours are making " and then it goes viral and everyone realises its lando and he gets roasted about it

okayokay so i'm loving all of these silly goofy requests -- i know that lando and max aren't neighbours but they do live pretty fucking close so for the sake of this fic, they're neighbours

Max Verstappen didn't post all that often on social media. And, when he did, it was all to do with F1 and Red Bull and his wins. There were a few pictures of him and Kelly on his instagram, but that was it.

He claimed that he wasn't present on tiktok, that he didn't really know the trends, but most fans knew that was a lie. He'd been caught on stream making jokes about the trends.

But then one day a tiktok appeared on everybody's for you page. For most non-F1 fans, the fact that it was Max Verstappen went over their heads. Even a lot of F1 fans didn't notice. But he was in a Red Bull shirt and a Red Bull hat on his head (with the number 1 on it, of course).

His head was done, face not visible. That was why the F1 fans didn't see it at first. But he danced, moving his body. The audio wasn't what he was dancing to, but he couldn't play that. That wouldn't be right. The audio over the top of it was something trending, but just because Tiktok automatically put it over the top. There were no tags either.

Maybe Max hadn't meant to post it on a public tiktok. It didn't even have a proper username. But it was out there in the world now.

As soon as the fans worked out who was in the video, they had to work out who is neighbour was. In any other world it would have been some random person that just so happened to live in Monaco beside Max Verstappen.

But somebody remembered the interview that Max and Lando Norris had done together. Where they had admitted to being neighbours some occasionally going to each others apartments.

Lando Norris was Max Verstappens neighbour.

Aka, Max Verstappen was dancing along to Lando Norris and his girlfriend having sex.

Everybody lost their minds.

[rosedpetal]

Let's Try Something New

Summary: Outraged by the horrible smut you were reading, Robert shows you how BDSM really is.

Pairing: Robert Chase x Wife!Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: smut, light bdsm (sorry if it's inaccurate, I'm just a vanilla girl)

Masterlist

You loved him with all your heart.

Not only that, he was a dream come true. Tall, handsome, blonde, broad and with a heart of gold. If Robert was a dog, he'd be a damn golden retriever. With his innocent blue eyes and easy smiles and suffocating affection.

To his friends and colleagues, your husband was the personification of a boy-next-door type, now turned a man with a license to practice medicine. Everything that was probably expected from him when he was young.

He was raised as a Catholic, for fucks sake, even taking the lengths of beginning his studies at seminary school when he was sixteen. Everything in him screamed safe.

You thought it was ironic.

Robert wasn't one to criticize your choice of entertainment, and he secretly knew you've read a lot of smutty books and fanfics on Tumblr. Apparently it was a popular thing amongst women. He's heard nurses talking (and they talked too damn much).

It happened while you were showering, washing your hair throughly, blissful unaware of the fact that Robert saw your book unattended in the coffee table and his curiosity took the best of him. A little peek wouldn't hurt, right?

He flicked through the pages, snorting at how inaccurate and unrealistically these scenes were written. Not only he knew the anatomy and biology like a pro (he was a doctor!) but he used to practice the very same stuff that was so poorly written in your pretentious little book.

It was all so-wrong.

He was so immersed in the horrors he was reading that he didn't notice you walking to the kitchen with a towel in your head and wearing your pajamas, ready to cook dinner. You thought it was weird, usually, he'd acknowledge you first thing. When you turned to look at him, you finally realized, in absolute horror, that he was reading the book you bought on Amazon days ago.

"Rob!" You let out a sound that resembled a squeal. "What are you doing?"

He looked up at you, trying to fight his smirk.

"Is this the kind of educational literature you buy with my hard earned money?"

Your face flushed with embarassment.

"Hey! I bought this with my money! And that's besides the point, I told you before to not snoop on my stuff."

"Because you're embarrassed of it?

"I-" You stopped yourself, feeling your cheeks redden even more.

"I'm not mad that you're reading erotica. But babe, this is so poorly written. I'm actually disappointed." He put the book back on the coffee table, crossing his arms and looking at you. "It's all a load of bull-"

"Because it's kinky? Because it's BDSM?" You knew you were being defensive, but you couldn't help it.

"No. Because this stuff is not BDSM. This author has no idea what they're talking about and is trying to use the practice of BDSM to write their rapey scenes."

You tilted your head to the side. "Are you an expert on BDSM now?" Your eyes widened as you saw your very innocent husband's expression change to slight amused. Oh my-

"I've practiced it, years ago."

You couldn't believe it.

And he kept on rambling: "Well, first of all, BDSM is not something used to subdue women. Or to force kinky practices or shit like that. I mean, where's the fucking safe word here?"

"I'm sorry, when did your BDSM practice happen? Between leaving seminary and going to med school or..?" You couldn't help the question.

He scoffed at your little jab.

"Just let me know if you wanna see for yourself what the real thing is."

That had you speechless.

He was groping you aggressively, your little movie night turned into a heavy making out session the minute the credits started rolling in the screen. You whined, your breathing mixed, your cotton clothed core rubbing shamelessly against the tent in his sweatpants.

With an arm wrapped around your waist, he quickly rolled you, your back pressing on the couch as he towered over you.

He kissed down your neck, lips trailing butterfly kisses on your feverish skin.

"I wanna try."

He froze. "Try what?"

You rolled your eyes. "You know what. BDSM. Now."

He sighed, pulling back and sitting on the couch. "Babe, it doesn't work this way."

"Come again?"

"Honey, we have to talk about this first. Do you know what BDSM stands for? What are your limits? We have to establish a safe word, or if we'll use the color system..."

You sit up, trying not to sound frustrated. "Okay, Mr. expert in BDSM. Just tell me you think I'm too vanilla to handle it."

Robert rolled his eyes. "There's nothing wrong with being vanilla."

"I can be kinky!"

"Do you want this to prove a point or are you really interested?"

"I'm interested. I wanna know if my smutty books are really that shitty."

He snorted at that, brushing a strand of hair off your face. "You're okay with being tied up?"

"Yes."

"And blindfolded?"

"Yes."

"Can you choose a safeword for me?"

"Cookie?"

"Oh, I'd love one."

"Robert!"

"Sorry, baby... Okay, let's take this to the bedroom, okay?"

He followed you inside your shared bedroom, rummaging through a drawer on his nightstand and grabbing a medium box.

You probably looked funny, sitting in bed, half naked and politely waiting for Robert to get whatever he had planned for you. He grabbed a pair of handcuffs and in a very serious tone, said:

"Lay down and put your wrists above your head."

You obeyed, feeling the cold metal close around your wrists, safely tied around the headboard. You couldn't help but let out a nervous chuckle.

"Don't go Gerald's Game on me, please."

Robert's eyes lit up a little. You were so cute. He wanted to ruin you.

"Take your mind off everything else, and close your eyes for me, beautiful."

Unconsciously, you rubbed your thighs together. That voice and that accent? Should be illegal. The way he called you beautiful as he put a blindfold on you? Completely evil.

Robert hummed to himself as he dimmed the lights of the room and turned up the thermostat. He walked back to you, sitting down next to you, slowly trailing his fingertips on your body. You actually shivered, despite the room temperature.

He kissed down your body. Your neck, collarbones, your bare chest, your navel... Just as he was about to reach your panties, he kissed the way up again, wrapping an arm around you and lifting your torso slightly to kiss you.

It was surprisingly gentle, but still breathtaking, nonetheless. His lips slowly moved against yours, his tongue slowly making its way between your lips, and you let out a little whimper while he kissed you. He pulled back, his warm breath on you as his thumb brushed your swollen lips.

Then, the dance of kissing your body returned. This time, he gently bit on your nipple, giving your breast a small squeeze, lowering his mouth and licking your clothed core. It was embarrassing how soaked through you were, your panties ruined as he hooked his finger on the elastic and pushed the fabric to the side, his tongue finally making contact with your poor pussy.

"Open your mouth for me." He demanded in a rough tone and as soon as you obeyed, he stick two fingers inside your mouth. You moisted them with your saliva, and he retreated them, only to gently push them inside of you moments later.

Your chest was heaving as he kissed and sucked on your clit, rolling his tongue, curling his fingers inside you, the wet sounds music to his ears.

"Ow!" You gasped in surprise when he slapped your clit.

"Color?"

"Green..."

"Are you sure?"

"I was just surprised, okay? Green."

He chuckled as he could hear the pout in your voice, giving you another open finger slap on your swollen clit, his other hand scissoring you, making you arch your back.

Just as you were about to orgasm, he stopped.

"Wha-Why would you do that?" You asked, in an indignant tone.

"You didn't ask for permission, princess."

"Can I please, come?"

"You have to learn how to address me, too." Robert hummed, getting off the bed and taking off his pants, stroking himself. "Can you do that for me, honey? How do you call me when you're at my mercy like a whore?"

God, you knew you were gonna lose your goddamn mind.

"Hmmm, Sir?"

"That'll do for now." He says, towering over you, spreading your legs, making your stomach tighten with anticipation.

He aligned his tip in your wet entrance, his breath becoming irregular. Slowly, he rolled his hips, hands on your waist as he fucked you. The bed creaked slightly under your bodies, and he hiked your leg up, kissing your calf, never stopping.

"You always feel so good." He admits in a gruff tone, holding your leg against his chest as you desperately tried not to scream. "I can never get enough of you, baby girl."

"Sir, I need to come, please, please, can I come?" You cried out, already feeling it.

He'd let it slide this time. You were a beginner, after all.

"Yes, baby. Come for me. Show me what I do to you."

You clamped violently around him, squelching, wet walls milking his length, and he picked up his pace, the sound of your moans, your orgasm, all too much. His whole body tensed up as he spilled inside you, groaning, gently pulling out moments later.

He released your sore wrists from the handcuffs, taking the blindfolds off your eyes.

"That wasn't so bad." You jested, throat dry.

"Yeah, just you wait when I introduce you to the flogger."

The blush on your cheeks was rewarding as he pulled you in his arms again.

[teencopandthesourwolf]

“Why did you ask me that?”

“Huh? What's that, big guy?” Stiles mumbles, answering the query with one of his own without looking away from Derek's laptop screen. The laptop Derek kind of bought for Stiles for when Stiles is at the loft.

Whatever. 

There's a ballpoint pen shoved in the kid's mouth—God, that mouth—and another slid behind an ear, the latter ready and waiting for Stiles to click to death in the In Between Typing Times.

The others dispersed a couple of minutes ago. Apart from Derek and Stiles, only Lydia and Deaton now remain at the loft and they're deep in conversation about the preliminary theory of who or what is killing the humans of Beacon Hills this week, and are standing at the opposite side of the open-plan space, making more coffee. Scott and Malia left to rally the other ʼwolves—not answering their phones as they're at a cinema screening—plus find and talk to Argent to arrange a pack meeting proper about the situation, so they can all work on devising a plan. Granted, there is Peter to consider—who's probably still lurking somewhere, what with lurking being one of his favourite pastimes, and can obviously hear any and all conversations that are, or could be happening inside of the building. Sadly, Derek has never been able to hide much of anything from his uncle though, so.

He thinks about elaborating on the question he asked Stiles, but can't.

He tries not to stare at Stiles, and fails.

Stiles is squinting at the screen with intent and looking like he has forgotten that Derek said anything at all. Or that Derek is still hovering close by. Or that Derek, you know, exists.

Derek is just standing there, all difficult and awkward in his own fucking home and his own fucking body, looming over Stiles like a creeper as Stiles taps away furiously at the keyboard and violently zig-zags a fingertip across the mousepad like an actual lunatic.

Derek almost laughs at that.

The Boy Who Runs With Wolves.

“Why wouldn't I?” Stiles now asks, still mumbling around the chewed ballpoint Derek is trying not to be jealous of. 

“I—what?” Derek's caught off guard; always and only by Stiles. 

Stiles doesn't skip a beat, unlike Derek's heart. “Why wouldn't I ask?” he adds.

Oh, right.

“I, uh, I don't... ” Derek trails off pathetically, swallowing any confidence he had previously mustered and looking away from Stiles, even though those big, brown devastating eyes aren't actually looking at Derek because they are, of course, still zoomed-in on whichever web page is currently yielding the most information.

Dusk is quickly closing in and all around them and the light filtering through the loft's huge window has begun to dim somewhat, so that the glow of the computer screen is now filling Stiles' eyes with bright, dancing sparks and arrhythmic shapes as they flicker like lightning from one tab to another, then another, then another. And as mesmerising as it is to watch—Stiles looking as though he is brimming with magic—the sight becomes too much for Derek, and looking away feels like his only option.

It doesn't last.

Stiles' long, large-knuckled fingers still their rapid movement just as Derek's eyes find their way back.

Derek watches the kid some more, like a lifeline.

An anchor.

Then, Stiles is taking the pen from those perfect lips as sneaker-toes slowly spin the swivel chair around, so that Stiles is now facing Derek where he stands with arms crossed reactively over his chest.

His heart.

“I asked if you were alright because I wanted to know if you were okay, man," Stiles divulges, as if that's nothing at all. As if it's something Derek hears often. He tilts his head to catch Derek's eye, which works, of course, because it always works, no matter the nature of the moment they're caught up in. "Like, I was concerned, y`know?” 

Derek feels guilty just for looking. And not only because he wants to touch but because he wants to let Stiles care.

“I care, dude,” Stiles says on cue and Derek tries to self-implode while Stiles waits, probably for Derek to look at him and say don't call me dude and hoping not to have his head bitten off or his throat ripped out. 

Derek does look again, just not for long. Barely a glance. He can't afford himself too much Stiles, not when Stiles is looking directly back at him. It's safer that way—self-preservation and all.

“You do know that, right?” Stiles tries again. “That I care.” 

Derek wants to ask Stiles if they can talk, if Derek can tell Stiles things. Derek wants to ask Stiles if he'll stay, and if he'll let Derek spill his secrets, let him tell Stiles everything, like Derek never does with anyone these days, and if Stiles will hold Derek's hand when Derek cries about it, like Derek doesn’t allow himself to anymore. Derek wants to ask Stiles if Derek can touch him and hold him and if Stiles would hold him back, if Stiles would ever want that, if Stiles could ever be his.

“Don't call me dude,” is what he actually says because he can't not. But then he steals himself, head staticky and heart thumping as he dares himself to add—after what is undeniably too-long a pause—“And yeah. Maybe I do.” 

Then they just look at each other.

Just—look.

Look and look and look and look.

They each keep looking at the other, for a very long time. Definitely too long for two people supposedly not much more than acquaintances. Allies, maybe. Comrades at tenuous best.

Then they look for longer. Look for more. Look until it starts to feel as if they are the only two people in the room, in the building, in the world.

Whatever happened to self-preservation?

Something is starting to happen, and Derek is pretty sure it's not just happening to him, and he finds he is equally stunned as he is thrilled as he is completely fucking terrified about it. 

Eventually, Stiles says, “Derek, we're friends.”

Then he's licking his lips and looking Derek up and down, shameless, adding—with a nonchalant shrug of one shoulder—“Till we're not.”

The latter part is spoken like a secret, but one without the slightest hint of malice. That's not how he means it. It's more promise than threat, if Derek is remembering correctly what genuine affirmations sound like.

The sparks from Stiles' eyes are then flashing blue in Derek's and Derek could swear he hears every every one of his neurons firing inside of himself, all at once, as each of his mutated cells flare into overdrive; nail beds and gums tingling, the short hairs on the back of his neck and arms and hands standing up on end.

He feels utterly alive.

It's honestly a struggle not to keen and whine like a pup, and Derek has truly never been more happy of the fact that Stiles is unable to scent chemo-signals because Derek would be so fucked right now.

He has a reply for Stiles but it's caught in his throat, the sentence forming then solidifying, fast as a quick-drying glue.

Derek is just—standing there. Statuesque. Alternating between trying to swallow his words down and attempting to speak them, like a first class dipshit. Just looking and looking and looking at Stiles.

In an entirely mortifying turn of events, it is actually the sound of Peter's low, mocking chuckle from some tucked-away shadowy place in the loft that is the thing that forces Derek unstuck, and it takes all Derek has to not roll his eyes to the back of his skull and growl out I'm going to kill you again now, Uncle. 

He takes a breath, un-clenches his fists and tries for a smile—or at least a hint of one. He doesn't want to freak the kid out.

Derek then manages to repeat Stiles's words back at him, no more than a whisper.

“Till we're not.”

Stiles is just looking and looking and looking at Derek, before he's asking, “Can I stay for the evening? You can talk to me while I research. I always work better with noise. It'll be soothing,” like he's ordering pizza instead of answering all of Derek's prayers.

Derek notes how the kid's usually erratic eye-contact is weirdly as unwavering as his usually erratic heartbeat, which is now weirdly steady as a metronome.

That's a lot of weird. 

Derek fights the urge to bite into his lip with his fangs. He wants to draw blood, and to taste it.

He embarrassingly feels his eye twitch and his breath hitch as he dares himself to do this. 

He sputters, “What do you want me to talk about?”

Stiles slowly swivels back towards the light of the laptop—ethereal milky skin and dark moles once again luminous in its white-blue glow—at the very same time as the evening's first moonshine peeks through clouds and seeps in through the loft's huge skylight.

Derek is memorised. 

Stiles starts annoyingly clicking away at the Clicking Pen, while shoving the other back between those beautiful lips of his, now mumbling his words around the thing once more and speaking them as if they are the most obvious thing in the universe.

“Everything, Der.”

.

for @poebin for asking <3 (unedited, soz)

[leefra98]

Phone call

PAIRING: bsf!heeseung x reader

GENRE: phone sex, fwb , pwp

WARNINGS: masturbation, degradation, multiple orgasms, hee is a perv

Heeseung's voice crackled through the phone line, the background noise of a bustling café a faint hum in my ear. "Hey," he said, the sound of his chewing echoing. "What's up?"

"Not much," I replied, my eyes scanning the room as I leaned back on my bed. "Just chilling. You're out?"

"Yeah, grabbing a coffee," he said, his tone casual despite the muffled sounds of a spoon clinking against the side of a cup. "How's the new book?"

"It's okay," I said, turning a page. "Couldn't say it's the best thing I've ever read, but it's keeping me occupied."

"You're always reading," he chuckled. "You need to get out more."

I rolled my eyes, smiling. "You know me, Heeseung. Besides, I don't think you're one to talk about going out."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, a hint of playful defensiveness in his voice.

"You spend more time gaming than socializing," I teased. "When was the last time you even talked to a girl?"

There was a pause, the clinking of the spoon abruptly ceased. "Well," he began, his voice dropping to a whisper, "that's what you're here for."

I raised an eyebrow, confused by his sudden shift in tone. "What do you mean?"

He cleared his throat, the line hissing with static. "I mean, I don't need to go out to get my... needs met."

A warmth began to spread through my cheeks. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying," Heeseung said, his voice low and deliberate, "that you're my go-to when I need to unwind."

I swallowed hard, unsure of how to respond. This was a side of him I had never heard before. "Heeseung, are you... are we..."

"Talking dirty?" he interrupted, a smirk evident in his voice. "Yeah, we are."

I could feel my heart racing, the room suddenly feeling much smaller. "But we're just friends," I protested weakly.

"Best friends," he corrected, the words sending a shiver down my spine. "Best friends who are about to share a little secret."

The line was quiet for a moment, the distant murmur of the café patrons a stark contrast to the silence between us. "Okay," I whispered, curiosity and anticipation warring within me. "What's your secret?"

Heeseung took a deep breath, the sound of fabric rustling faintly. "I can't stop thinking about you, Y/N," he admitted, his voice thick with something I couldn't quite identify. "Every time we talk, every time I hear your voice..."

The rustling grew louder, and it dawned on me what he was doing. "Are you... are you touching yourself?" I asked, the question barely audible.

"Yeah," he murmured, his voice strained. "And now that you know, I want to hear you do the same."

My hand hovered over the phone, the realization of what was happening making my skin crawl with a mix of excitement and apprehension. "Heeseung," I breathed, "we can't..."

"Why not?" he pressed, the rustling now unmistakable. "You know how much I want you, Y/N. And now I know you want this too."

I bit my lip, the heat between my legs growing unbearable. "Okay," I said finally, my voice shaking. "Tell me what to do."

Heeseung's breathing grew heavier, the sound of his hand moving rhythmically over his cock growing louder. "Take off your panties," he instructed, his voice a gruff whisper. "Let me hear you."

I obeyed, my heart racing as I slid my underwear down my legs and tossed them aside. "They're off," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Good girl," he praised, his voice a dark purr. "Now, I want you to touch yourself. Just like I'm doing to myself right now."

My hand tentatively made its way down my body, my fingers brushing against my sensitive folds. "Like this?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"Mmhmm," he encouraged, his own breathing now erratic. "Now, tell me, are you wet for me?"

I swallowed hard, my cheeks burning. "Yes," I admitted, my fingertips slipping through my arousal.

"Fuck," he groaned. "I knew it. You're such a slut for me, aren't you?"

The words stung, but the sensation of his degradation only served to excite me further. "Yes," I whimpered, my hand moving faster.

"Say it,"

"What?"

"Say that you're my slut," Heeseung demanded, his voice growing more urgent with each stroke.

I hesitated for a moment before giving in to the delicious dirty talk. "I'm your slut, Heeseung."

The sound of his hand moving over his shaft grew quicker, his breathing more ragged. "That's it," he said, his voice a harsh whisper. "Now, tell me, are you going to come for me?"

I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. "I'm going to come," I said, my voice quivering with need.

"I want to hear it," he said, his voice a low growl. "I want to know how my words make you feel."

I closed my eyes, focusing on the sensation of my own touch and the sound of his breathing in my ear. "I'm going to come," I murmured, my hips rocking into my hand.

"Come for me," Heeseung urged, his voice strained. "Come for your best friend, you dirty little whore."

The words pushed me over the edge, my body shuddering with the force of my orgasm. I cried out, the sound echoing through the room and down the phone line to him.

For a few moments, we were both silent, lost in the aftermath of our shared pleasure. Then, Heeseung spoke again, his voice slightly hoarse. "Again," he ordered.

I opened my eyes, my hand still working my sensitive flesh. "What?"

"Come again," he said, his voice firm. "I want to hear you scream my name."

I took a deep breath, my body already responding to his command. "Okay," I whispered, my voice a breathless moan.

Heeseung's voice grew more demanding, his instructions more explicit. "Faster," he said, his own breathing erratic. "Imagine my cock inside you, filling you up."

I whimpered, my hand moving in time with his voice. The second orgasm began to build, my toes curling with the intensity of it.

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice tight. "Take it all."

I moaned, my body bowing off the bed as I climaxed again, my name leaving his lips in a guttural shout.

As the tremors subsided, I realized with a start that my cheeks were wet with tears. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice concerned.

"Nothing," I lied, my voice thick with emotion. "It's just... it's never been like this before."

He chuckled, the sound low and intimate. "It's just the beginning," he said. "We're going to have a lot more of these moments, Y/N."

The call ended, leaving me lying in a tangled mess of sheets, my body still pulsing with pleasure. The line between friendship and something darker had been crossed, and there was no going back.

[localcanadiancreature62]

Dipper and Mabel vs the Past au (title is a reference to an actual episode in the show) - Timestuck style au where instead of ending up in the time period where the Oregon Trail was being used in The Time Traveler's Pig,Dipper and Mabel end up 30 years into the past and end up uncovering secrets about their Grunkle Stan like WAYYYY earlier than they're supposed to (time travelers pig is s1,not what he seems is s2. they discover things Very Early in the timeline here). Mabel ends up with Ford,Dipper ends up with Stan. Now i know the usual portrayal of this au is "the kids being with their favorite grunkles" but i wanted to do something different cuz i LOVE exploring the dynamics of Dipper with Stan and Mabel with Ford sooo bad. I'm thinking this is set like... Paranoia Ford era aka the events culminating to Stan receiving the postcard,so basically Ford has literally just lost his best friend and also almost had his fucking tendons snapped and now he has to deal with a child who is apparently his great niece in the future while simultaneously protecting the child from Bill,Ford has a lot on his plate lmaooo.

Meanwhile Mullet Stan is down on his luck as he lives in his shitty rundown apartment while trying to avoid Rico due to owing him money that he currently doesn't have,he's miserable as ever and then a child with a hat as well as a striking resemblance to his brother suddenly appears in his car when he was out shoplifting groceries,having to take care of it when he can barely take care of himself. Angst and hurt/comfort + a few wholesome moments ensue. Ford finds himself getting attached to his young niece even when he's incredibly highstrung and feels that he can't trust anyone right now,seeing that such a bright and caring soul is worth trusting. Mabel eventually finds out about Bill after the bastard possesses Ford while she was trying to give him a better sleep schedule,and the girl makes it her mission to protect her other grunkle (like i said. they figure things out way early here) from that bastard after realizing that this pointy jerk wants to hurt him as evident from the fork stabbing and Ford's journal pages regarding him being tormented by Bill (bro the funniest thing is that Bill doesn't even appear yet in this current part of the timeline lmaoo. like dreamscapers happens WAYYY AFTER the time traveler's pig. so Mabel basically just saw a triangle dude that she knows nothing about and has never met and decided that she needs to fight for her life to protect Ford from him despite ALSO not knowing anything about her other grunkle either). Mabel helps Ford slowly get himself back together as Bill is biding his time to eventually get the portal started again one way or another,meaning that Bill is too busy planning things out to torment Ford,thus Mabel chooses self care for her Grunkle Ford and makes it his problem, trying to force Ford to get out of the house for groceries or at least give him a few minutes to touch grass rather than being cooped up in his dumb dork lab all day making him shower giving him a better sleep schedule and even making cupcakes for him so he can eat things besides moldy cheese or strange tasting alien cow milk (reference to that one real life journal 3 page with the weird cow). Ford is actually very shocked and touched by this gesture,because he has been spending weeks all by himself while being actively tortured without anyone by his side but now this girl suddenly makes his life a little brighter and he thanks her for that,despite him being strict snappy and moody most of the time due to being stressed from Bill and the portal (i can't really blame him for feeling that way. i too would feel my sanity slipping as the looming threat of the apocalypse going to be eventually caused by my former muse is getting nearer and nearer while said muse is also torturing me 24/7 all while juggling self care and research and taking care of a whole child to top it all off),bro is close to tears when he realizes that he's not alone after all and that he doesn't HAVE to be alone,and that he actually needs someone rather than not needing people like what he said,i.e "I don't need you. I don't need anyone!" and Mabel is right there to help him. Mabel ends up wearing 80s clothes as well as stops using her phone in public in order to not draw suspicion after Ford pointed out that people would get pretty confused by her glowing shoes and "advanced flip phone",meanwhile Ford tries to figure out how to find the time tape that the girl speaks of as he starts to study time travel and relearn the laws of time in order to help Mabel as he plans on possibly building a makeshift time machine to replace the tape in the case that they never find it.

So far Mabel is doing pretty well despite having to deal with her snappy Grunkle Ford and the fact that her Grunkle Stan was lying about her and Dipper being the only family he has left as well as the fact that she actively has to ignore every trick that Bill pulls on her including possession by using unicorn hair that is now a hair extension on her own hair (early discovery) while also trying to not die/get grievously injured at the hands of Bill or Bill possessed Ford and ALSO greatly missing her brother who is nowhere to be found as she can't find a way home to her time as she begins to experience literally disappearing very slowly as a result of a time paradox of her being in a time before she was even born,what fun! :D.

Dipper however,has worse problems to deal with than a demon triangle and a snappy Grunkle. He has to deal with being homeless and being even MORE anxious/guarded than he already was due to the fact that his Grunkle Stan's enemies could jump him any moment. He has to be Stan's accomplice in committing crimes like shoplifting or pickpocketing people for food and money. The fact that Stan is a criminal and that he has to commit crimes with the risk of getting caught or worse,killed by his Grunkle's old "friends" puts a lot of weight on the poor boy,and he was anxious as is with him generally being highstrung and now he has EVERY reason to be afraid due to him being a runaway criminal with Stan. Although having to live a hard life and commit difficult crimes even when it's wrong ended up toughening Dipper up,showing that dealing with the hard and fast life boosted his confidence tenfold. Dipper actually feels bad for his Grunkle Stan,even when the guy kept making fun of him back then (i.e Dipper vs manliness and the bottomless pit stories),as he had NO IDEA that his Grunkle lived like this before. So he makes sure to be as helpful and as less of a burden as possible,just to make his Grunkle Stan happy. Heck,he even becomes protective of his Grunkle despite his weak nerd arms and he has gotten injured for the grifter's sake multiple times such as the time he got a lot of scrapes and bruises from trying to rescue Stan from falling in a ditch as he ended up falling himself instead. Stan is glad to have a little buddy around him,especially when the kid is his future nephew and thus family,since he's been suffering all by himself for so long and he really appreciates the company. He really wishes that he could help Dipper regarding the whole time tape situation,but only Ford could know what to do as he's too dumb to understand time travel (Stan ur inferiority complex is showing). So he figures that the only way he could help is to just watch out for a weird looking tape measure with an hour glass symbol on it and steal it immediately from whoever has it (the time tape has actually ended up with Blendin after he used a spare time tape to look for the other one that the kids have [he needs to return those. he'll get in trouble for losing a single one],and he's been looking for the children for a while so that he could bring them back to their own time as their very presence in the 80s is a time anomaly and thus he wants to fix it before he gets in trouble with the time police).

Dipper ALSO forces Stan to take care of himself,although to a lesser extent than Mabel with Ford. He doesn't do any heavy duty self care work,but he more so reminds Stan to consider himself too whenever they have food or beds to share instead of just letting him have everything and sacrificing the little stability he already has for the kid. Dipper also tries to give them a better lifestyle at some point by convincing Stan to rent a house and also steal wads of cash from an ATM just to give him a taste of a normal life again since he feels bad for his Grunkle having to sleep in his car or a shitty apartment all the time,Stan literally cries from this gesture as he's so happy to have someone besides Ford finally care about him after 10 years of being alone. He discovers that he doesn't have to be alone and push people away despite wanting someone to care so bad,as Dipper is there to help him.

The two happily live in the rented house for a few weeks until they the landlord kicked them out for not paying rent and then they had to make a run for it. Sometimes,being with Dipper physically pains Stan because of how much he reminds him of Ford. He has the same bright curiosity and thirst for knowledge that his brother had,the same innocence and happiness that Ford had before everything happened. Stan missing Ford is so evident to the point of him occasionally calling the kid "Poindexter" because of how much the boy reminds him of his twin. Dipper finds out about Ford sooner or later because of this,plus he ends up discovering the old picture of Stan and Ford in front of the Stan o' War in his Grunkle's jacket.

He gets angry at the future old Stan for never telling him about his brother and that he had another Grunkle,but he soon realizes why after young Stan explains the whole ordeal he has with Ford regarding the science fair incident. Stan himself points that out too. "What the- You- You had a brother this whole time?!. How come your future self never told me about this?!. What other things is he hiding?. Ugh." "Well,kid. If i know myself,i wouldn't go around telling everyone about the drama i have with my brother y'know?. Especially when it still hurts *sniff*." "What?. What do you mean 'drama'?. Actually,is that the reason why you're living like this and you don't ask him for help?." "Uhh.. You see,my brother is a stubborn jerk. So stubborn that he decided to go to college instead of staying with me. And he let Dad kick me out because of what?. Breaking his dumb perpetual motion machine project?." Stan says in frustration as the resentment is oozing with his every word,as he still doesn't forgive Ford for what he did even with how much he misses him. "Oh.. That's awful. I don't really know the full scope of what happened between you two,but i can say that it's that bad considering that you ended up living on the streets soon after." "Ya think?. As far as i'm concerned,that nerd is living it up in a normal house with his dumb college money instead of sleeping out in a car all the damn time." "And kid,there's a reason why the older me didn't tell you anything. Whatever happens to us in the future,that bastard STILL didn't talk to me about our problems. As him- er me not talking about it means that the resentment is still simmering inside." "Ah,figures. I guess you really are Grunkle Stan instead of some random dumb hobo with how wise you are." "Can it Dippy. I wasn't the one crying over losing a hat yesterday." "Hey!. I- It's my signature accessory,i can't go without it" "Yeah yeah whatever". Also,Dipper and Mabel greatly miss the other. The kids' determination to get back to their twin no matter what cost reminds their respective Stans that they used to be like that too back then,always prioritizing their twin over everything else.

Mabel always makes little doodles of her and Dipper's adventures together in her new 80s scrapbook which Ford catches her doing,meanwhile Dipper rambles about how fun and supportive Mabel is to Stan whenever they have a break from being on the run. Stan feels conflicted over letting the boy constantly talk about how great his sister is when his own sibling is a good for nothing bastard but it also makes him think that maybe he and Ford can be like that again sometime whenever he finally gets the courage to call him or send a postcard to him,Ford on the other hand ignores Mabel's Dipper doodles and occasional rambles about her brother while making an excuse about him being "too busy" to hear about it despite the real reason being that he's too angry at Stan to keep being reminded of the fact that they used to be as close as his future niece and nephew. Both younger twins realize that they NEED to get their Grunkles to talk to each other since it's painful to see a set of siblings like them hate each other so much,especially when they're family, although Mabel is more insistent about it than Dipper due to the fact that Stan has bigger fish to fry than making up with his brother plus the girl is more optimistic than her brother who thinks that Stan and Ford's relationship is broken beyond repair and that there's no hope for them. But getting their Grunkles talk to each other is a job for another time,as they still have to find each other and also find the time tape as well as blend into the 80s until they get back.

(i made this au forever ago. but i forgot to finish it until like November or show it to anyone until now 💀)

[pseudophan]

“Don’t talk to me like that!!” The way I can just imagine their heated arguments in my head now LMAO very old married couple. Anyways period Phil, you tell him 😤😤

i'm obsessed with this insight into their arguments cause like.. both sides make so much sense bsdhjkfbskj personally i'm definitely phil, like sorry if i'm rolling my eyes or making a snarky comment that's NOT cause for you to start an argument sorry, it wasn't that deep and you should get over it. you're making it into a way bigger deal than it has to be. no i'm not disrespecting you, you're just taking everything super personally. omgggg get over it. etc etc etc. sorry i'm very annoying to have an argument with and evidently so is phil

genuinely though if i was to analyse this from a very very personal perspective that's definitely biased towards phil cause we seem to be on the same page - i think what happens is essentially, somehow someone says something that the other doesn't agree with, or otherwise in some way shape or form there's a discussion happening, they clearly don't agree on a topic, and dan is very determined and opinioned about something phil doesn't rly care about, and so phil, just wanting this to be over with, gets kinda bitchy about it, right? idk what he'd actually say but let's say he's like okay! since you're always right! sure! and he genuinely doesn't mean it that seriously, like he just wants to move on and he doesn't care all that much about the actual argument at hand. however dan DOES care that much, or rather he might not have been until phil was like Ok Since You Have To Be Correct Always, so now he's like. okay? bitch? fuck you? and phil is like omg. not that serious. i don't care. sorry. it was an offhand comment. and dan is like.. no please, elaborate.. and phil's like...... idgaf.......... but perhaps you have a tendency to sometimes. SOMETIMES. need to be right. and dan's like. no. and phil's like. yeah. and dan's like. . . .. . . no. and phil's like. ok no :) and dan's like >:( what are you saying. and phil's like ^_^ nothing <3 and then that continues for another like 45 minutes

my main point is i think a lot of their arguments stem from phil very seriously not thinking what they were talking about was all that serious whereas dan takes everything rather seriously, and so phil is like...... it just wasn't that deep.... and dan, unable to not see things That Deep, gets offended that phil isn't taking it as seriously. but phil genuinely just does not see it as a big deal. he's not trying to be rude they're just on different wavelengths when it comes to the topics at hand. yes this is based on every argument i've ever had why are you asking

[the-pen-pot]

Have u ever thought about Arthur time travelling instead of Merlin?

Not one with just Arthur, no. Hiraeth almost entirely scratched my time travel itch. That said, I'm actually writing (slowly but enthusiastically) one called "What We Might Be where they both end up back at the start with all their memories intact. It's a huge amout of fun!

It's basically about how this time they work together and maybe find that golden age (and do it a lot sooner!) It's posting on my patreon very slowly right now, but you can read the first chapter here (warning for angst)

Here's the synopsis from my fic ideas page below the cut to spare you all!

I made this post on Tumblr and it did numbers (I was thinking 4 people would "hell yes" me, not 2000)

"Not me sitting here thinking about writing a fic where we start with Arthur dying in Merlin's arms after Camlaan and it's all tragedy and then the magic rises and they both end up back at that first day, in the marketplace, Merlin with "How long have you been training to be a prat, my lord?" dying on his lips as they stare at each other, fascinated, horrified, so fucking relieved because they both remember ALL of it and none of it's happened yet and this time they can maybe make it to a different, better ending.

And they can do it together."

BUT TO EXPAND

I want to explore how Arthur and Merlin would interact with each other having lived in one another's pockets for ten years, only to be sent right back to the beginning while retaining everything they are to each other. Merlin's magic newly revealed from the confession by the lakeside. The two of them standing there with every mistake in their future rather than their past and realising that maybe "two sides of the same coin" means "you need to work together, dumbass".

I want the two of them shocked by how young the other is. How different Camelot seems from what they're used to. How harsh Uther looks now that they know it can be different (though not as different as it should be, Arthur realises.) I want them correcting their mistakes (and each other's mistakes) and taking all that they know of each other and rebuilding their relationship (all their relationships, actually) on that honesty.

And the others don't remember. Morgana is still Morgana, still struggling but still hoping to be saved. Mordred's just a boy.  Lancelot never sacrificed himself and it's so clear in Arthur's eyes that Gwen loved them both but that she loved Lancelot first and best with all her heart.

The knights end up at Camelot earlier simply because Arthur and Merlin set out to find them earlier. 

("We need Gwaine." "Do we? Really?" "Yes, you great prat. Come on.")

And so much more.

[wlntrsldler]

well now that you let the angst monster peek out… can we have a luke and five star argument that happens while she’s visiting that leaves everyone tense and forcing them to make up, or smth along those lines?? i need more of their angst it’s too good 😁🙏

song: i choose you by kiana lede

"what do you want me to do, five star?" luke asked, trailing behind you. you both just entered the concert venue for their second album's listening session. the event was starting in a few hours and it was a struggle to sneak in through the back without any of the fans noticing you.

"do not call me that right now," you hissed, marching over to the back exit.

"fuck, are you serious? can you just-- stop walking so fast!" luke picked up his pace and planted his feet in front of you. he looked at you in disbelief as you crossed your arms over your chest with your lips in a pout. you tried to look at anything but him. "what do you want me to do, huh? you don't want people to know about us, which is fine! i'm good with that, but i can't control what people say about me. i can't control that they're speculating things. you know they're not true!"

you were being stubborn. you knew this. it wasn't luke's fault that someone named him as their celebrity crush and that the poisoned mercury fans were shipping them now. it wasn't his fault that your tiktok page was just edits of your boyfriend and the gorgeous, beautiful, singer. she didn't know luke was in a relationship. she didn't even know you existed.

outside of yours and luke's immediate circles, nobody knew. the long-distance thing was a blessing in disguise while you two hid your relationship from the public. no paparazzi pictures. no fan sightings.

"i don't know, okay?" you groaned, rubbing your face with your hands. "i don't know what i want right now."

"it looks like you wanna leave," luke clenched his jaw, gesturing to the door you were racing towards. "is that what you wanna do?"

you looked at him, hard and cold, "maybe i do."

luke scoffed, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue, trying to hide the hurt in his face. he shook his head, an empty smile appearing on his lips, "fine. go, then."

around the corner, the boys and clarisse watched in silence. they were startled by the sound of you and luke arguing. you weren't yelling at each other, but the tone of your voices were rough. they'd never heard you guys like this before.

you and luke always spoke in hushed whispers with each other. sickeningly loving voices that were reserved for each other. the boys often joked about throwing up every time you and luke shared a kiss in front of them, but they loved seeing the two of you in love. so seeing you guys argue was something they weren't prepared for.

sure, couples argue and they fight, they weren't stupid enough to think that you two didn't do that, but you two always seemed to work it out. neither of you have ever left each other like this.

connor turned to clarisse when you walked out of the venue, slamming the door behind you as you left the building, "well, shit."

"what do we do?" travis questioned, panic in his eyes. "we have a gig in a few and luke is supposed to be singing these love songs he wrote about the girl who just left."

"dude. that's the last thing that should be on your mind," chris smacked him on the arm, "they just got in a fight."

"come on, it's luke and y/n. they're not gonna break up," he replied nonchalantly, "they're meant to be. i'm not worried about them."

"i am," clarisse mumbled. the boys all turned to look at her. "i-i've never seen her like this."

the boys were close, of course, they were, but they didn't always talk about relationships like this. they only knew about the surface-level things about your relationship because luke wasn't one to gush about the details of it. but if clarisse, who knew more about your side of the story, says that they should be worried, then maybe they should be.

before any of them could reply, luke walked by the group, grumbling and visibly upset. he collapsed on the couch with a thud and glared at them, "what?"

"are we gonna ignore the fucking elephant in the room?" travis asked, quirking an eyebrow. he motioned to the area where luke was previously standing, "what the fuck was that?"

"i'm not in the mood, stoll."

"you need to be more empathetic, bro," connor sighed, placing a hand on the older stoll's back.

"hey, none of you keep me for my empathy," travis shrugged, sitting beside luke. he nudged him with his elbow, trying to get him to crack a smile, "you keep me for my innate ability to kill it on the drums and for my humor. oh! and my killer looks, how can i forget that?"

luke snorted, letting out a dry laugh. he shoved travis playfully, easing his shoulders, "you're terrible."

"you guys okay?" clarisse piped in, standing beside chris. she reached for his hand to anchor her. "that seemed intense."

"i don't know," luke chewed on his bottom lip, "she's mad that fans are shipping me with some actress that said i was her celebrity crush, but i don't know what to do about it."

"oh, i've seen those edits," she cringed, sending luke a sad smile. "they're everywhere right now."

"clar, i don't know what i'm supposed to do here," luke was out of ideas. he propped his elbows on his knees, leaning forward. "she doesn't want people to know about us, which is fair. i get it. i'm fine with keeping it under wraps for now because i also don't want the media in my personal business and i don't wanna subject her to that. but like-- what am i supposed to do? i can't control what people make up online."

"yeah that's fair," she mused. she paused for a second. "did she ever tell you about the guy who asked her out to his frat formal?"

"yeah," luke mumbled, "la rue, if your goal was to get me madder, it's working because i distinctly remember telling five star that i would fly to north carolina to punch that guy square in the jaw."

"calm down," she laughed, "but you know how you're feeling right now? that's how y/n feels, but like a hundred times more. imagine people telling you that your girlfriend would be perfect with some other guy, who probably would make more sense for her. he goes to her school, he's attractive-- their relationship would make sense."

"y/n has to deal with having to share you with the world, luke. and it's not your fault and she wouldn't trade what you guys have for anything, but having to see people talk about her boyfriend being perfect with someone else? i dunno," she shrugged, looking at chris. chris held her hand tighter. she turned to luke again, "i would probably react the same way as her."

"oh," luke conceded. "just curious, what was the guy's name?"

"y/n didn't even bother getting his name," clarisse said. "she just said no and walked away. then she called you because she missed you."

"get your ass up and get your girl, castellan," travis pushed luke off the couch.

luke didn't need to be told twice. he opened the door, craning his head left and right to look for you. he saw you leaning against the wall, a familiar device in your hand. you exhaled, smoke escaping your parted lips, walking over to him.

luke met you halfway, pulling you to his body when he got close enough. he placed a kiss on the crown of your head, "don't like it when we fight."

"i don't either," you mumbled, gripping him tightly, "i'm sorry. i shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"you know there's nobody else for me, yeah?"

"no, i know," you pulled away from him a tiny bit, but luke wasn't having it. he wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you from taking a step back. you looked up at him, feeling vulnerable, "it's just getting to me, i think. it's hard to be unphased when everyone wants your boyfriend."

"fuck everyone else," luke hummed, placing a soft kiss on your lips. your lips molded together perfectly. "want you. only you. next time you're feeling this way, tell me, okay? i can think of so many better ways than fighting to reassure you of how i feel."

you giggled, trailing kisses on his jawline, "i can think of a few ways right now."

he pulled out his phone, turning to face you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "we got a three hours. how many ways do you think we can do?"

--

"so this song is not on the album," luke started, taking his mic off the stand. the crew rushed over to switch to the acoustic set. his eyes found yours in the small crowd. you furrowed your eyebrows in a questioning manner. "but we wanted to give you guys a surprise song at this listening session."

travis got situated on his acoustic drum set, sending luke a thumbs up. the rest of the boys sat on the stools in front of the crowd. cheers erupted from the group you and clarisse sat with, all buzzing with excitement that they were getting an unreleased song.

"i wrote this song a few weeks ago and we haven't gotten the chance to record it so it may be rough," luke laughed into the mic, eyes not leaving yours. "but i wrote this song about a girl that i met last summer. and... well, i'll let the song speak for itself. this is 'i choose you.' hope you like it."

[keeksandgigz]

Hey Keeks! So I was day dreaming while I was looking at my ring that has a Lilith sigil on it and now I’m thinking about Witchy giving Eddie something like it

Im mixing these two @rebelfell hehe here's a little vignette, for some reason Eddie doing crystal shop deliveries makes me think of Kronk. <3

Hope u enjoy!!

You pick up the phone attached to the wall.

"Genesis Records. Eddie speaking, what's up?" you smile as you imagine him leaning against the wall, holding the landline phone between his ear and shoulder as he gets a pen and paper to take notes in case it's some important shipment information.

"Ed, it's me" you huff out, and you can feel the smile from the other side of the receiver, he likes it when you call him at work, his heart picks up- maybe at the chance that he might have to sneak off upstairs into his apartment when you happen to have coordinated lunch breaks.

"Hey, witchy, I'm about to go on my lunch, I'll see you upstairs in five-" you're quick to interrupt him.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, I'm not on my lunch. I called you because I need your help" you're overwhelmed and don't seem to be in the mood for his shenanigans. You can sense his smile dropping immediately, a slow cast of concern washing over his face.

"What is it, baby?" his tone is suddenly muted, like a child that got scolded for talking too much from his teacher.

"We're understaffed. It's just me and Naradea right now, we need someone to do deliveries, we're incredibly backed up with them" You purse your lips together, hoping for a decisive 'yes' "I'll send you a list of addresses and I'll pay for gas and stuff, you just need to drive around town and deliver some packages- crystals, potions, the works" you huff out, half- stressed.

It takes him a second to think about it "Matt can cover me, I'll be over in a second lemme grab my truck and I'll meet you in the courtyard?" and you exhale a sigh of relief as he hangs up and gets his truck over to the back entrance of your store.

You run out, a couple small boxes in your hands "Thank you so much for doing this, I'll uh... make sure you're rewarded plenty tonight" you whisper against his cheek, placing a small kiss where the warm air of your breath hit.

He grows red at the seductive invitation, slightly growing somewhere else as well, unable to keep his head from reeling at the thought of what would be waiting for him tonight.

"Consider me intrigued" he smirks against your lips, taking the boxes from your hands and giving you a delicate kiss as he fills up the back of his truck with boxes.

You show him a clipboard with the names of the witches and their addresses "See, you've got Arla on Lombard, Clemensia on Castro, Athena and Arachne both on Third street and so on. They should be placed in order so you don't have to go back and forth around the city" you point at the purple colored page.

"Am I gonna get hit on by any of these ladies, 'cause if I am you gotta warn me- can't be too charming if they're trying to fuck me" he snickers, you hit him on the arm "ow," he moans.

"'Kay then" you take off your ring, the one with the sigil of Lilith that sits on your middle finger "give me your pinky, this will tell them that you're already spoken for"

You slip the ring on his pinky finger "Witchy if you wanted to propose to me this is a weird way to do it, y'know?" he laughs "Am I just cattle to you?" he moans dramatically as he gets in the car, rolling down his window.

"Cutest cattle I've ever seen" you scrunch your nose as you lean in the open window to give him a kiss "I'll see you tonight at mine?"

"You bet, and you can tell me more about that reward you were talking about" he smirks, puckering his lips for a kiss.

"I'll go home to sharpen my knives, then" you joke, biting your lip.

"Mmm, kinky" he caresses your forearm "See you tonight, gorgeous" he says, before driving off.

"Hello Ms. Arla, my name's Eddie I will be delivering your goodies for all your witchy needs today" he says, in his charming tone, as he watches the old lady reach into her pocket to give him a candy that seemed to be at least 50 years old. Grandmas are all the same after all.

"My god, Clemensia you look divine today" he flirts with a close friend of your aunt Hilda as she blushes and lightly smacks his arm. He offers her the box full of her deliveries "your witchy goodies m'lady" he bows and is not allowed to leave until he's had tea with her.

During his rounds he's offered treats, biscuits, readings of all kinds as he politely agrees, unable to say no to these nice ladies who all seem to know him by name.

His last delivery is someone named Aphra- he's never met her before, maybe a new addition to the 'witch community' as he calls it.

She ordered two boxes of stuff. He carries them up a steep flight of stairs and rings the doorbell.

Aphra isn't old, she isn't young- she looks ageless, and that, for some reason, scares Eddie.

"Lady- uh- Ms.- your witchiness- Aphra?" he stutters in a bout of embarrassment as he continues "my name's-"

"Edward. You're the young witch's human boyfriend" she hums "She got in a lot of trouble for allowing you to be a part of our world" He remembers you being deprived of your magic until your trial. Two months of seeing you mope around your apartment.

He wasn't sure what to say.

"Despite that you stuck by her, even through your bout of confusion. Let's call it you being... 'lost'" she snickers as she reaches into the pocket of her jacket, extracting a token made out of black metal.

"Bring this to your witch, as a token of my appreciation. Have a good evening, Edward" she brings the boxes inside with ease, and closes the door behind her.

He looks at the black token. Ridged with the sigil of the coven- three indented stars.

Eddie plays with it on the way to your house, rolling it on his leg, wondering what it might mean.

When he gets to your house, much to his dismay, he has to stop you from jumping on him. The curiosity is eating him alive. He shows you the black token, and all color seems to drain from your face.

"Holy shit" you utter "Holy shit!" a bit louder this time.

"Wha- what? What is it, witchy?" he asks, as you guide him on your purple couch. Your breath seems to be knocked from your lungs.

"Aphra is the head of the coven" you're playing with the indentations of the token, Eddie mentally cringes at the absolute shit first impression he made with what appears to be the madame president of all witches, or something like that.

"This token is her blessing" you have tears in your eyes, Eddie's still confused.

"Blessing for what?"

"Blessing to get married" you shrill, and Eddie's heart almost falls out of his ass.

[pinkgy]

PB is fucking things up, but there's hope, and here's why

During the past hours i've gave different opinions about this whole mess that's going on with What in Hell is Bad, but this is my final opinion.

Please, don’t attack me for “justifying” PrettyBusy, because I’m not, I already expect bad reactions because of this post.

I decided to write this because moments ago I checked the game's Reddit page and well, i already knew that many people has been quitting the game for various reasons, like the constant bugs and the lack of new content, but within the past hours this number increased significantly and almost every player of What in Hell is Bad that has some kind of presence in social media related to the game has spoken up about this, and i'm glad this is happening. For change to happen people needs to speak up, but i think that by know, PrettyBusy already knows it. I talked about this in a reblog i did some weeks ago, but i'll say this again, PrettyBusy is a business, a small one, but a business, and they have and can keep track of many things that are going on in the game, and by now, they probably noticed that they are losing players even without having to check what's going on in different social medias, and my hypothesis is that there's some internal issue going on for them to have so many unfulfilled promises and so many things that are lacking in the game. But i don't mean to say that we should be considerate, that's something that's up to every singular person.

They know about what's going on, and if you ask me, i believe that by the end of the day we will have an update from them explaining everything, Prettybusy may be fucking up many things right now, but they are really receptive and i think many of us have noticed that with the past issues, the last one being when they deleted the mission that involved using Nightmare coins during the past Nightmare Pass when many of us started to complain about it, they had no need to fix that because it wasn't an impossible mission, really hard i must admit, but not impossible, but they still did and compensated us later. And no, i'm not excusing PrettyBusy, I’m just trying to see the positive side out of this. PrettyBusy is being greedy, not event the biggest dating games have 40$ cards, or even content that is worth that amount of money, and for a game that doesn't even have a year since it's release that is absolutely inconsiderate, my theory is that they noticed that those overly expensive cards were actually being sold by players so they thought that if they released others, the same would happen and the F2P players would just ignore it and keep playing, and they ended up making a mistake by saturating the game with paid content and neglecting those parts of the game that are actually important, the Main Story and the Organic Players. And surprisingly, this is a common mistake many companies do, but they usually end up fixing it, because at the end of the day, us, Organic Players of What in Hell is Bad are the best promotion for the game, or any game in question since this example can be used for many other situations, a singer can have the biggest billboards, the best music, the most expensive commercials, but the fans are always going to remain as the best promotion they could have EVER, and if they don't have fans, they won't be successful. And if me, a normal 19 year old college student can realize this, i'm sure a COMPANY, a BUSINESS, can definitely do it way better and quicker too. No game wants to lose players, yes, they're earning 40$ for selling those cards, but they’re losing waaaaay more by losing F2P players, and summarizing the last tho paragraphs, PrettyBusy needs us because we are money.

It makes me really sad to see many players lose interest in the game, and if any of you care, I'm not leaving, at least not for the time being, i know it sounds dumb to see the positive side of everything that's going on (Because it's definitely not positive at all) but i will keep doing it, I like the game but that doesn't mean I'm going to justify what PrettyBusy is doing, and I think that's a valid opinion.

To conclude this, I’m going to gaslight myself into thinking that PrettyBusy isn't dumb and they do know that what they're doing it's wrong, and they will search for a way to fix this as soon as possible, and if you think this is impossible, read again this post because that's the whole purpose of it. I hope I'm right, but if I'm not, then I’ll try to stay optimistic until they fuck it up again.

If you want to mail PrettyBusy complaining about this, I'm really glad you are! I'm working on a mail too, I recommend you read THIS post before you do it, and please, remain respectful.

Thank you so much for reading this long-ass post! I'll gladly accept any addition to this post or any comment, but please remain respectful, and remember, this is a personal opinion, I'm also a F2P player, and believe me when I say that I'm as mad as you are about this but I just have my own point of view of it.

[unforth]

We are one Iowa caucus into the absolute shitshow that is going to be the US 2024 elections, and I'm already sick of seeing takes downplaying the risk that Trump and his fascist followers represent.

Look. Around 1900, my mother's grandparents immigrated to the Lower East Side of New York City. They brought with them children born in Europe (Poland? Ukraine? which country they were in depends on what year we're talking about) - we're not 100% sure they were THEIR children, even, but there were three, and they were young, and they came. But my great-grandparents had siblings, parents, cousins, uncles, aunts, huge families. And while my understanding is that an attempt was made to convince those folks to move to the US, none of them ultimately opted to.

They all kept in touch as they were able, exchanging letters and pictures, but through World War 1, through the 20s, through the Great Depression, through the worsening situation in Europe in the 1930s, my entire extended family who chose not to immigrate...continued to stay.

I think we all know how this story ends.

I have an entire family photo album of people whose names I will never know, because after every single one of them died in the Holocaust, my great-grandparents and grandparents couldn't bear to even label them. And they were PEOPLE, poor, vibrant, eager to maintain connections with their loved ones abroad. One was a Klezmer musician, and we have photos of him with all the different instruments he played. They're so real on the page, and they all ended in ashes.

And you know how that started? Fascism started with every inch allowed, with every well-intentioned moderate who tried to maintain a middle position even as the whole ground shifted right beneath their feet and even "middle" became extreme, every "no that change isn't coming fast enough, I want instant full improvement NOW" liberal who felt that doing nothing was better than accepting a slower improvement in the (truly awful!) post-World War 1 living situation in Germany.

Most of the members of my extended family also downplayed the risks. They never imagined that the worst could happen to them. They never fathomed how bad things could become.

And now I have their example always before me to know and to scream:

I KNOW HOW BAD THINGS CAN BECOME. I KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO MY FAMILY THEN.

I WILL NOT LET THAT HAPPEN TO MY FAMILY NOW.

People look at me like I'm crazy when I say I've got our passports ready (and have had since before the 2020 election).

Look. I don't know what will happen if Trump is elected, but there's a very real possibility he will, and he's been extremely clear about saying what he'll do. He did a lot of the things he said he'd do last time. I expect he'll continue to do the things he says he'll do. And the things he say he'll do will lead to the deaths of more people than we can imagine - in the US, in Palestine, throughout the world.

Don't tell me there's a middle ground here. Don't tell me I'm over-reacting. Don't tell me the worst won't happen. Don't tell me the risk is mild. Don't tell me we're safe.

We. Are. Not. Safe.

The lives of dozens, hundreds, of members of family were lost in the 1940s amid the horrifying statistic "6,000,000 dead Jews."

I will not let my life (as a Jew), my wife's life (as a disabled woman), my son's life (as a biracial boy), my daughter's life (as a biracial trans girl), be part of the statistics that come from our a second Trump presidency.

If you won't vote like YOUR life depends on it, vote like someone ELSE'S life depends on it, because IT DOES.

And if you can't even do that much, at least shut the fuck up and stop spreading your poison around. You're wrong. The danger is real. Downplaying it now won't make your conscience feel any clearer when it actually happens, and comforting everyone else downplaying it will just make you that much more complicit.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

L&DS Rafayel: Fireworks Display | Drabble

Fun fact about the writer: I am terrified of Fireworks. They're too loud and scary. They freak me out almost as much as thunderstorms do.

Pairing: Rafayel x Reader Warning: None Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Rafayel

The setting sun felt beautiful, no longer beating down harshly on your skin. You relaxed in the lounge chair you shared with Rafayel, pressed against him with a head on his chest. It was perfect, and you could see the fireworks going off on the beach a few ways away from your location.

You glanced at Rafayel, who had his phone out and seemed to be endlessly scrolling through something. The fireworks were loud in the distance, and you heard a thunderous bang. You looked over to see a blast of blues and purples raining down into the ocean below.

“Raf, weren’t you the one who wanted to see the fireworks?” you asked, noticing he hadn’t flinched when that one went off. It was a vast display, and he had called you early that day to see if you were free that night. The moment he told you there would be fireworks on the beach, you were already making your preparations. Now that you were here, he seemed too absorbed into his device, something that certainly wasn’t like him in the slightest.

Rafayel shrugged, “This thing happens a few times every year, so I’ve seen it a thousand times,” he explained, taking a moment to glance at you. You huffed, almost pouting at his lack of interest in the explosions.

You were no longer looking at the fireworks, instead resting your chin on his chest so he could get a good view of the disappointed look on your face, “Okay, but this is the first time you’re seeing it with me. It’s totally different, Raf,” you whined, wanting to kick your feet in a mini tantrum just to get your point across in a language he can understand.

Rafayel locks his phone, placing it to the side, “Don’t give me that look,” he began, “You’re making it seem like I’m a criminal,” that’s because he was judging by how he wouldn’t enjoy these things with you right now, “Not to mention we saw a fireworks display two months ago over in Linkon,” he just had to remind you.

“Okay, but that’s not us being curled up on a lounge chair on a beach watching fireworks. It was crowded in Linkon. Now it’s just us two,” you crawled a little closer, “It’s a totally different experience,”

“Oh, but when I want to celebrate eating oysters together, suddenly it’s a weird thing to do since the week before we celebrated having crab for the first time together?” he finally said, and now you were laughing.

“Totally fucking different, Raf,” you shook your head, “Besides, what were you so interested in on your phone? You normally never ignore me to be on it,” you said, going to grab the device. You could feel Rafayel tensing up underneath you as his eyes widened.

“Oh, it was nothing,” he tried assuring you, but this only made you curious. You pressed your thumb down on the finger lock, happy that the man had allowed you to put your thumbprint in there months ago. You guys trusted one another enough, and he also had his own thumbprint on your phone.

The page that opened was a shopping page, and you could see sparklers of all colors there. Before you could question it, he grabbed the phone out of your hands and held it out of reach. “I said it was nothing.” Oh, he had that adorable flush on his cheeks again.

You laughed, looking behind you to see people on the beach playing with them. They seemed too far away, just little dots, but you could hear the laughter that seemed to be carried on the wind.

“Raf, were you jealous we didn’t have sparklers of our own after watching everyone else playing with them?” you asked, amusement clearly in your voice.

“I was not,” he protested,”

You laughed some more, grabbing his cheeks and squishing them, “You’re so adorable when you try to lie about these things, Raf,” you said with a smirk, “If you wanted to play with sparklers that bad though, we could always do this again next weekend?”

“There aren’t any fireworks going off next weekend,” he reminded you, and you shrugged.

“Then we can get our own fireworks,” you said as you leaned in. You couldn’t help it; he looked too adorable not to kiss. Your lips pressed against one another for a moment, and Rafayel instantly melted, dropping his phone to the sand below as his hands went to grab your waist.

“Promise you’ll set off fireworks with me?” he asked as soon as your lips parted. He stared at you like a lovestruck puppy, which made your heartbeat go a little faster as you licked your lips.

“Wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t going to follow through,”

You leaned in again, wanting to kiss him. A loud bang followed, lighting the two of you up as your lips continued to melt together.

Rafayel is so down bad I'm telling you...like he wants to experience everything together.

[user2772636]

Moon River

(And me)

No matter how annoying, rude, or diabolical he is, he's still Angus Tully, your best friend and the boy you've been in love with since you learned how to.

Angus Tully x Reader

Warnings: swearing

Moon River - Frank Ocean (Cover)

"I wanna go to Boston."

Angus Tully was a wildcard. He's rude. He doesn't think before he speaks. He can be a hell of a pain in the ass. One second, he's quiet and all by himself in a corner, then the next he's spewing out words from his mouth that'll make you wish you were currently six feet under.

But he's really thoughtful. All those times he spends by himself, he thinks. About life. About school. About people. How we came from where we're from. How we breathe air and feel the soil in our feet.

No matter how many failed classes, how many times he was set back, Angus Tully is a smart boy with loads of potential. You just wish he saw himself that way.

"Why?" You ask, flipping the magazine between your fingers.

You were almost the exact opposite of Angus.

You studied hard, aiming for Ivy League schools and doing as much extracurricular activities as you could. You prioritised school, your work, your reputation. You rarely get in trouble, only getting called in offices for the reports you've sent.

So, why out of all the people in Barton, the only girl there ends up being his closest friend?

To put it simply; when you heard about Barton accepting girls for the new school year, you wanted to go. One, because, as your mother said, "It would do your reputation good for being a part of the first batch of girls in Barton," and two, because your best friend Angus Tully studied there.

Yes, you got in the school. Yes, you're part of the first batch of girls in Barton ever. What they didn't mention was the fact you were the only girl in Barton.

"You know why."

Angus's dad was put in a hospital after something happened in their home. Apparently, he was sick. At least, that's what Angus's mom said.

"We can't exactly leave. Hunham's gonna kill you." You finally put your magazine down, folding the corner of the page you were in to bookmark it.

"Not unless he doesn't find out."

"You know for a fact he'll find out."

"He'll find out too late. I know that for a fact."

You roll your eyes, sighing. You shuffle to your side of the bed to his. You pushed both your beds together. The excuse Angus used was that it gets cold at night. You didn't really mind.

You settle your head on his chest, arm wrapping around his slender waist. You exhale deeply when his arm lowers to rub your back. It felt nice in moments like this; The dark room illuminated by the orange hue of a streetlight outside. The wind howling and blowing snowflakes towards the west.

"I know it sucks we didn't get to go with those guys to ski, but they're jerks anyway. I'd rather spend my entire Christmas with you." You tuck your head into his neck, closing your eyes as your tiredness encapsulates you, as well as the warmth of Angus's hold.

"Well, we're not exactly doing that." Angus clicks his tongue. "Wish it was just me and you. No Mary, and no stupid fucking walleye."

You groan. "You gotta stop calling him that. He seems to be trying his best, even when his "best" is annoying." Angus adjusts underneath you, lying both of you down and draping a blanket over your bodies.

"Yeah, whatever." He relaxes onto the bed, eyes closing as well. His breathing is still manual, you can tell he can't sleep just yet. There's something in his mind.

"Angus... you okay?" He moves a bit, arm still wrapped around you. He doesn't answer right away, but when he does, his voice is a bit strained.

"Don't you ever get tired of me? Even just a little?" You wouldn't have heard him if it weren't for your proximity right now. You stay still.

"Of course I get tired of you. Almost all the time." He scoffs when you giggle a bit. You open your eyes and peek up at him, seeing a small smile on his face.

From the light that barely lit the room, you could see his eyes were glassy. You sit upright, cupping his face. His hand goes up to hold one of your wrists, his cheek leaning into your touch.

"How do you put up with me?" He sniffles, leaning his head down. "I can't even put up with myself sometimes."

There was only one answer to his question. You knew well in your heart what it was. Maybe it was time to tell him.

"Angus." You whisper, caressing his face your thumb. "Look at me."

He looks up, eyes a bit damp from tears. You wipe them away gently, keeping your eyes locked on his pretty brown ones.

"You're my best friend, Angus. But I see you more than that." You can see the emotions shift on his face, but he stays quiet, so you continue.

"I'm serious about what I said. I'd rather spend my entire Christmas with you. Over anybody in the world." You smile softly, taking your hands off his face to hold on his own.

"I'd also spend spring break with you, summer, the weekends. It's gotten to the point that I'd spend the rest of my life with you."

"The thing is, I'm never gonna leave. No matter how annoyed I am, no matter how fed up. Because I love you, Angus. I've loved you ever since I learned how to. And I learned from you."

He only stays quiet after. You're afraid you said the wrong things. Maybe you shouldn't have told him that. He's simply staring off into space, eyes glued on you. You try to take your hands back.

"Wait." Angus says. He keeps his eyes on you. There's this spark in them, and you can't tell what it is. You've only ever seen it in times like this; when you're alone with him.

This is a lot more different, though. There was so much intensity that-

His lips felt plump against yours. They were so soft. You could even somehow taste the pink in them. You couldn't get enough.

The moment you lean in, his hands cup your cheeks, just like you did to him moments ago. You bet he could feel how warm they were.

He tilts his head to kiss you more, adding a bit of force that just highlights his hunger.

Your hand finds his lap, and you rest them there. He pulls away, hovering a centimetre off your lips. You feel the way he breathes against you.

"If you wanted to take my pants off, just ask." He laughs, trying to ease the heat of the room.

You lean in just a bit, lips brushing. He tries to lean in too, but you pull away only slightly.

"If you wanted to kiss me, just ask." It was your turn to laugh as he rolls his eyes.

"Well, can I kiss you again?"

You didn't even need to say a word. A curt nod was enough for him to go back to kissing you silly.

A best friend is someone you hold dearly in your heart. Your best friend is already far above that.

The love you hold for someone close is something you never let go of. You can make a choice of holding that feeling a little while longer or giving it to them with everything in your being. Trust me when I say the second option is better.

HOLA CHICAS I FINALLY WROTE SMTH FOR ANGUS!!! If u followed me way b4 yk i was talking abt this man and saying how them white boys r ruining me (tbh they still are but im not complaining) i love this boy sm I WANT HIM SOOOOOO BAD UGHH. Anw this is short asf but its all i got for now 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ HOPE U GUYS LIKED IT!!!

[concert-bflat]

I need to rant about Ivan guys guys I neeed to rant about Ivan (<--- keeps trying to write fics of him but Never finishes him) like God this man is so gay and so in love it genuinely hurts it Hurts and I am Injured by it and the imagrey is Sooo Good (and Yes this is probably me just parroting stuff Everyone has already said before but shut up it's my turn now!! (aka please I've been holding in these thoughts for Months now I must let them out of their cage before one of them Dies)) [Edit I am Not fucking proofreading this I spent 2 hours on it if there is a mistake you Imagined it </3]

Just like,

You can see it in the way he sees the stars in Till. His own hopes for freedom and the only real light in this world that he lost sight of in Till. He is the hope and wish for freedom that he has shut away and repressed and it makes him fall So Hard

Or how you only really see that red in his eyes (after. Almost Dying) when he's with or singing/thinking about how Till has Inspired him, like a fire has been lit inside him. A fire lit in the darkness. . hmm...

even at the end of the song, where he knows full well that he absolutely Crushed his opponent and also knows full well that Till is his next one. I'm sick. I'm so sick.

Or like. When he frees Till and everything is just Engulfed in that red now. How Till has that same fire in his eyes, he and Ivan are on the same page now. They see that same hope for freedom and they both share it. They're running towards the light (like the sky's lighter there, more on that in a sec), hell, the corners of the right side of the screen are literally tinted in LIGHT GREEN. Till's color. God dammit the whole scene is tinted in red and green. They are literally Complementary Colors. I'mmm soooooooo (God these scenes are soo pretty too I was genuinely Stunned when I first saw this)

DID YOU EVEN NOTICE I ONLY NOTICED NOW the Stars are fucking green. You can see it better in some of the Later Images but they are Literally Green because Ivan sees the stars in Till and uuuughsdfbshb

OR LIKE WHEN TILL TURNS BACK?? AND. And that red is no longer in his eyes and before The Realization hits Ivan his eyes are just Glowing with red. Because he was just Filled with that hope. Freedom was, potentially, Right There

Did you guys even notice in that like. 5 frames in the half-second animation of Till turning away he's totally engulfed in his shade of green. Like of Course. That's such a Till thing to do because of Course he's running back he never actually liked Ivan that way in the first place.

And also the lighting of the sky Flips. Because the light has always been with Till. And Ivan's left in the darkness. In the. Haha. Ha. Black Sorrow. Aha *sits down cries*

And Again with this mf's stupid eyes how they revert to just black because that hope's been stripped away again, how it's even reflected in his present self singing as he reminisces on it. Fucking. Ivan's Expression when Till runs away.T here's so fucking much like the irony. Like did he even see Till hesitate or did he just see him turn and run away.

Like the irony that the guy who's always breaking the rules and fighting and defying and clearly hating living in a world like this won't run away with him, who has always been passive and obeying the rules and just accepting captivity and has been repressing his desire for freedom is so Bitter and Awful but also he always Knew this would happen what the Hell was he thinking this was such a stupid idea like

this man gets No Breaks No Breaks Ever oh yeah btw they're facing off against each other in a literal Death Match. That they might've had a Chance of avoiding if they ran away. Ahah. Hh *sob*

Also this art brings me so much Joy as much as it hurts me on a visceral level like. Ivan Always has his eyes on Till but it goes from a fond smile. Like So Fond flat out lovestruck affectionate gaze because he loves this man and loves spending time with him to a grimace once they're on stage. How Till never really changes or really Has Changed, and that's why Ivan loves him as much as he is resentful towards him. How that's what brought them here, to the stage. How Ivan changed for Till and Because of Till but still Till is like a god damn immovable object with how he stubbornly sticks to his ways. There's such resentment but isn't he himself also stubborn for always sticking to Till anyways? Hell, he's singing all about him in Round 3 and loses control over his own emotions and expressions during it I'mmm Guhhh

Also the first image is titled Observation while the second one is titled Decision(? I think). Like mf What are you deciding. What happened Last Time you decided to do something I'm going to punt you into the next planet

Speaking of observing,

Just. How Ivan's Always Observing. I saw one person point out he's like a background character and it's like he sees himself as one too. He is a passive observer in his Own Life. How he watches all the other children in Anakt garden play. How his childhood leading him to Anakt Garden just kind of. Happens around him while he watches indifferently.

How he's always trailing behind Till. Or how he tends to just. Observe quietly and is portrayed as such.

Not to mention how he doesn't appear in the memories of Anyone else's rounds, not even Till's, even when he literally (temporarily) freed him from the city. He doesn't even appear At All in Luka's round even though we get a clear shot of Till getting his hopes and dreams shattered (though it Does parallel another shot of him from Round 2)

And then the One Times he tries to take action. Or start something. It gets rejected and he's resigned to just. Trailing behind again. Because of Course he'll always follow after Till. And of Course he's fucking bitter about it and bitter about himself because he Knew this would happen and Till is Always looking at someone else and that Never Changes but. He just thought for a moment that he could change something. Man.

Oh I forgot to talk about the competitions themselves huh? Wellll, (and I'll Attempt to keep it brief because I've been writing this post for Much too long but)

Till spends his first round singing completely devotedly to Mizi. Hell, his song wasn't even in the program, it's likely- no, almost definitely something he wrote entirely for her, and Ivan has no part in it, just watches bitterly as he passes out after his, er, stunt at the end

And continues to be passed out for almost the entirety of Ivan's song

Oh but he woke up for the emotional/musical climax at least, going over Ivan's most important memory of them together, that's cool at least right?! Surely Till felt something from that

Maybe they can talk something out, or at least acknowledge their relationship in Some way. Maybe Ivan could at least be seen by Till-

Aaand Till's Actual love interest Supposedly gets shot and now he probably thinks she's dead. His attention is turned to her once again, like it's always been from the start. He never really changes huh?

Better luck next time Ivan--

Just. This mf Never Wins and it makes me Laugh as much as it makes me So Sad

Gets hopes and dreams and future crushed by aliens (standard stuff). Sold off in an auction. Put in prestigious singing school and up to that point he hasn't really cared about Anything and has simply been going through the motions.

Meets boy that basically embodies the freedom and hope he used to have. Falls badly in love. Boy loves someone else. Tries to free him and give him the thing he'd surely want most. Rejected. Back to school you go loser.

Oh btw this school is to train you for a competition to the death. Btw you're facing off against that boy you love in the semi-finals of said death competition. And you might kill him or he'll kill you. Because you didn't run away when you had the chance.

Also he didn't sing or think about you at all during his round. In fact I'm pretty sure he wrote a whole ass song that wasn't even registered in the Alien Queue or whatever for someone else. Also he probably has hardly looked at you. Also he was unconscious for almost the entirety of your song. Except for the part where you lost control of your emotions.

Oh but that doesn't matter now because now he thinks the person He likes was just killed. So he's kiiinda gonna be distracted by that. And that might fuck up your round with him. Sorry man

This was Originally a rant about how much I love Black Sorrow's imagery and the portrayal of Ivan's love because this man clearly has Complex Emotions and then Kinda derailed into me just ranting about how many L's he's being handed before getting the executioner's blade. Uhhhhh oops. Congrats on sticking to the end though?

I just love Ivan very much. He is So Bitter and so Horribly In Love and looks up to and is inspired by Till So Much and I wish people explored him on a deeper level/more personally.

I wish I saw more deep looks at Ivan/Till, there's clearly Complicated Things going on there. Hell, we don't even know what Till's pov on the whole thing is aside from that One scene of him hesitating before running away from Ivan. As much as I love fluffy interpretations of them, I (did I mention that I'm an angst addict btw. Could You Tell) wish all their Complexities could be acknowledged. Like how Ivan Clearly puts Till on such a spotlight and it is Such a downfall for him through and through and he Kinda knows it but also What Else does he Have and he really looks up to him Sooo Much (just. Look at them in that official art of them in Anakt Garden !!!) and deep down just wants to run away from this horrible place and wants to run with Till, the Light of his life the fire in the darkness the fucking stars the universe his black sorrow just. Oh My God I need to end this post already I was supposed to be studying but spent those 2 hours Writing instead

But anyways yeah uuhhh long story short? This guy is a gay loser. He tries to look sooo cool and smooth but he is suuuch a gay lovestruck loser and his rose tinted glasses are so thick he can't see shit (I'm pretty sure I quoted that from something (but also no genuinely when I first got into alnst after just watching the first 3 rounds videos and saw Ivan in official art I was So Surprised like "Oh he's actually That kind of mf that tries to look Cool and Hot but is actually just Pathetic and Sad and Gay I thought he was Just Sad and Gay")) he's probably also touchstarved as hell idk and his love is doomed by the narrative (unless Hyuna saves his and Till's asses. Buuut we'll see </333)

Love ya Ivan keep taking L's <3333 mwah

[fox0war]

Been seeing alot of lamb n the gods on my page recently so here's their relationships in my save:

Lamb and Nari - The Lamb HATES Nari, doesn't respect him at all, and would've killed him if it weren't for the fact that it would prove him right, that they are now like him. They hate how he forced death where it didn't belong, because he was corrupt, he wasn't like the other gods, he was worse. Meanwhile Nari has sorta realized how bad he fucked up and shit man... was the Lamb always that beautiful? So terrifyingly and amazingly powerful? That's right, one sided narilamb that the Lamb will never return!

Lamb and Leshy - The Lamb respects Leshy but does think he could've toned it down a bit, left some flowers behind where his corpse laid after killing him, now in cult they treat him almost like a brother. Leshy thinks the Lamb is overrated but that they're fun to mess with and that the Lamb knows some good tricks, though the Lamb only ever brings them up as a bribe or when they're drunk.

Lamb and Heket - The Lamb and their family had been worshippers of Heket before everything had happened, knowing that a God of Famine was just as much of a God of Harvest, if convinced to play things a certain way. Now in the cult, they're married, after all, the Lamb's family were their most dedicated worshippers, and the Lamb truly did enjoy having Heket around. The perform food related rituals often together. Heket loves her spouse but also feels quite awkward and guilty for the whole, yk, genociding your spouse's species thing. Also the Lamb left mushrooms on Heket's body when they slayed her.

Lamb and Kallamar - They're on good terms with Kallamar, often giving them nice trinkets they found on their latest outing. They also had to ensure that no, even though they killed him, they didn't want to, and that they were very sorry. Kallamar is still a bit scared of them but alls well that ends well, right? The Lamb left some crystals with his body when he was slain.

Lamb and Shamura - They're more distant but still friendly, Shamura was the most recent addition to the cult anyway, and they tend to have memory issues too, so it's hard to build a solid foundation right out of the gate. The Lamb left some silk by their body.