#i do kind of want to write it but more so the idea I had for Eggcellent where Easter Bunny Steve lays eggs.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic idea: Danny's Did you know?

Danny is a contact creator.

He started off as a kid who wanted to dump info about space or other interests, making it more "Did you Know" as his theme, but his channel really took off the first time he invited a ghost to speak about the era that came before.

No one knows Sidney Poindexter is a ghost. Ghosts usually do not appear on camera; if they do, they are always a blur or barely visible outline. That doesn't come into play when the camera happens to belong to the Ghost King, who is unaware of the title.

Due to this, the ghosts, as his guest stars, turn out to look like normal human beings. There is no glow, no see-through effect, and the only odd thing about them is how they dress.

Even Poindexter's coloring could be explained with some well-done make-up.

They think he's just someone wearing a costume and pretending to be from the 1950s, using information Danny had researched. Danny's interview with Poindexter became an instant hit among those who applauded the genuine authenticity of what the 1950s actually were like.

Not only that, but Poindexter's reactions to modern terms and objects that Danny presents are hilarious to the viewers, as he never once broke character. There is even an entire section where both grumble about the bullying issue in their shared high school.

A particular scene becomes a trending meme.

"Did you know Dr. Seuss coined the word "Nerd" in 1950? He used it in the book If I Ran the Zoo," Danny tells Poindexter.

The other teenager rolls his eyes. "Of course, I knew. It was published in my first year of High school. I was one of the first to be called nerd, you know? It would have been more impressive if it didn't take the entire football team four days to read."

"Four days!?"

"Dr. Seuss's writing style saved the American reading levels back in my day."

"So we have always been stupid, huh?"

Danny's next guest is Johnny 13, a biker from the early 1980s who spends most of his time flirting with Danny—who doesn't acknowledge the attempts—and proudly tells the viewers he may have been there, but he was too poor to know much about the 1980s.

"What were the trends in that era?" Danny asks Johnny after considering his notes.

The biker shrugs. "I think cellphones? They were too expensive for me or my block. Never saw one in real life before I died."

"Well, one trend was waterbeds. Did you know that waterbeds were invented in the 60s? They were made by a design student but weren't popular until the 80s, making them popular for the sudden rise of sex appeal." Danny says with a cheerful grin.

Johnny 13 tilts his head, considering his words. "Radical. I couldn't afford a mattress, much less a waterbed, but I bet they were fun. If you can get your hands on one, I would happily show you how fun they can be."

Danny rolls his eyes and then considers something. "If you couldn't afford a mattress, how did you get your bike then?"

"I stole it. Car theft was effortless back then after hotwiring took off." Johnny's smirk turns dark. "I stole to keep myself fed. Bad luck followed you everywhere when you started at America's rock bottom. Only crime could get you out, and even then, life was shit."

Danny reaches out and pats his shoulder. "At least you got to live through one of the best eras in our history."

"Nah, I died in 1983. I missed it, but do you know who actually got to live it? Ember. She died in 1990."

Next week, Ember strikes an alarming resemblance to the one-hit-wonder singer Ember McLain, who had nearly made it big a few years ago.

"What were the 80s like?"

"Terrible, everyone hated me in school, and AIDS was killing all my friends."

Danny pauses for a long moment, looking horror-struck, until Ember shrugs, "But Glam rock was made popular, which was kind of cool."

"Glam?"

Ember smirked at the host, holding her guitar. "Want to hear some?"

By the end of her performance, everyone was losing their mind that Danny Fenton somehow knew a big name like Ember Mclain, and her music once again started to trend. So much so she released another song called "Lost," dedicated to all her fallen friends who died in the AIDS epidemic.

It goes on and on, with each new video showcasing different times and people from those backgrounds. Tim Drake never misses an episode as a dedicated follower of Danny's Did You Know?

He also thought it was a gimmick to make the show entertaining and thought nothing of the hilarious conversations—not when the host was such adorable eye candy.

Things are normal until Tim watches Danny interview Greta Hayes, who died in the late 90s. His very dead, very much a ghost teammate who happily tells the story of her life while looking like an ordinary girl for the first time.

It's not even someone dressed up as her. She makes an apparent reference to some slang Bart uses, and a few of the team's inside jokes are sprinkled into the conversation.

Tim feels a headache coming on. After watching the episode, he grinned darkly as he picked up his phone and called Bruce.

"So we may have a problem. Either a necromancer with an insane amount of skill or something similar. We need to go to Amity Park to investigate Danny Fenton."

Bruce sighs. "Tim, I am not helping you stalk your internet crush-"

"It's not stalking. It's detective work!"

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Antiusurpation and the road to disenshittification

THIS WEEKEND (November 8-10), I'll be in TUCSON, AZ: I'm the GUEST OF HONOR at the TUSCON SCIENCE FICTION CONVENTION.

Nineties kids had a good reason to be excited about the internet's promise of disintermediation: the gatekeepers who controlled our access to culture, politics, and opportunity were crooked as hell, and besides, they sucked.

For a second there, we really did get a lot of disintermediation, which created a big, weird, diverse pluralistic space for all kinds of voices, ideas, identities, hobbies, businesses and movements. Lots of these were either deeply objectionable or really stupid, or both, but there was also so much cool stuff on the old, good internet.

Then, after about ten seconds of sheer joy, we got all-new gatekeepers, who were at least as bad, and even more powerful, than the old ones. The net became Tom Eastman's "Five giant websites, each filled with screenshots of the other four." Culture, politics, finance, news, and especially power have been gathered into the hands of unaccountable, greedy, and often cruel intermediaries.

Oh, also, we had an election.

This isn't an election post. I have many thoughts about the election, but they're still these big, unformed blobs of anger, fear and sorrow. Experience teaches me that the only way to get past this is to just let all that bad stuff sit for a while and offgas its most noxious compounds, so that I can handle it safely and figure out what to do with it.

While I wait that out, I'm just getting the job done. Chop wood, carry water. I've got a book to write, Enshittification, for Farar, Straus, Giroux's MCD Books, and it's very nearly done:

https://twitter.com/search?q=from%3Adoctorow+%23dailywords&src=typed_query&f=live

Compartmentalizing my anxieties and plowing that energy into productive work isn't necessarily the healthiest coping strategy, but it's not the worst, either. It's how I wrote nine books during the covid lockdowns.

And sometimes, when you're not staring directly at something, you get past the tunnel vision that makes it impossible to see its edges, fracture lines, and weak points.

So I'm working on the book. It's a book about platforms, because enshittification is a phenomenon that is most visible and toxic on platforms. Platforms are intermediaries, who connect buyers and sellers, creators and audiences, workers and employers, politicians and voters, activists and crowds, as well as families, communities, and would-be romantic partners.

There's a reason we keep reinventing these intermediaries: they're useful. Like, it's technically possible for a writer to also be their own editor, printer, distributor, promoter and sales-force:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/19/crad-kilodney-was-an-outlier/#intermediation

But without middlemen, those are the only writers we'll get. The set of all writers who have something to say that I want to read is much larger than the set of all writers who are capable of running their own publishing operation.

The problem isn't middlemen: the problem is powerful middlemen. When an intermediary gets powerful enough to usurp the relationship between the parties on either side of the transaction, everything turns to shit:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/12/direct-the-problem-of-middlemen/

A dating service that faces pressure from competition, regulation, interoperability and a committed workforce will try as hard as it can to help you find Your Person. A dating service that buys up all its competitors, cows its workforce, captures its regulators and harnesses IP law to block interoperators will redesign its service so that you keep paying forever, and never find love:

https://www.npr.org/sections/money/2024/02/13/1228749143/the-dating-app-paradox-why-dating-apps-may-be-worse-than-ever

Multiply this a millionfold, in every sector of our complex, high-tech world where we necessarily rely on skilled intermediaries to handle technical aspects of our lives that we can't – or shouldn't – manage ourselves. That world is beholden to predators who screw us and screw us and screw us, jacking up our rents:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/yes-there-are-antitrust-voters-in

Cranking up the price of food:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/04/dont-let-your-meat-loaf/#meaty-beaty-big-and-bouncy

And everything else:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/06/attention-rents/#consumer-welfare-queens

(Maybe this is a post about the election after all?)

The difference between a helpmeet and a parasite is power. If we want to enjoy the benefits of intermediaries without the risks, we need policies that keep middlemen weak. That's the opposite of the system we have now.

Take interoperability and IP law. Interoperability (basically, plugging new things into existing things) is a really powerful check against powerful middlemen. If you rely on an ad-exchange to fund your newsgathering and they start ripping you off, then an interoperable system that lets you use a different exchange will not only end the rip off – it'll make it less likely to happen in the first place because the ad-tech platform will be afraid of losing your business:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/05/save-news-we-must-shatter-ad-tech

Interoperability means that when a printer company gouges you on ink, you can buy cheap third party ink cartridges and escape their grasp forever:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/11/ink-stained-wretches-battle-soul-digital-freedom-taking-place-inside-your-printer

Interoperability means that when Amazon rips off audiobook authors to the tune of $100m, those authors can pull their books from Amazon and sell them elsewhere and know that their listeners can move their libraries over to a different app:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/07/audible-exclusive/#audiblegate

But interoperability has been in retreat for 40 years, as IP law has expanded to criminalize otherwise normal activities, so that middlemen can use IP rights to protect themselves from their end-users and business customers:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

That's what I mean when I say that "IP" is "any law that lets a business reach beyond its own walls and control the actions of its customers, competitors and critics."

For example, there's a pernicious law 1998 US law that I write about all the time, Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, the "anticircumvention law." This is a law that felonizes tampering with copyright locks, even if you are the creator of the undelying work.

So Amazon – the owner of the monopoly audiobook platform Audible – puts a mandatory copyright lock around every audiobook they sell. I, as an author who writes, finances and narrates the audiobook, can't provide you, my customer, with a tool to remove that lock. If I do so, I face criminal sanctions: a five year prison sentence and a $500,000 fine for a first offense:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/25/can-you-hear-me-now/#acx-ripoff

In other words: if I let you take my own copyrighted work out of Amazon's app, I commit a felony, with penalties that are far stiffer than the penalties you would face if you were to simply pirate that audiobook. The penalties for you shoplifting the audiobook on CD at a truck-stop are lower than the penalties the author and publisher of the book would face if they simply gave you a tool to de-Amazon the file. Indeed, even if you hijacked the truck that delivered the CDs, you'd probably be looking at a shorter sentence.

This is a law that is purpose-built to encourage intermediaries to usurp the relationship between buyers and sellers, creators and audiences. It's a charter for parasitism and predation.

But as bad as that is, there's another aspect of DMCA 1201 that's even worse: the exemptions process.

You might have read recently about the Copyright Office "freeing the McFlurry" by granting a DMCA 1201 exemption for companies that want to reverse-engineer the error-codes from McDonald's finicky, unreliable frozen custard machines:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/28/mcbroken/#my-milkshake-brings-all-the-lawyers-to-the-yard

Under DMCA 1201, the Copyright Office hears petitions for these exemptions every three years. If they judge that anticircumvention law is interfering with some legitimate activity, the statute empowers them to grant an exemption.

When the DMCA passed in 1998 (and when the US Trade Rep pressured other world governments into passing nearly identical laws in the decades that followed), this exemptions process was billed as a "pressure valve" that would prevent abuses of anticircumvention law.

But this was a cynical trick. The way the law is structured, the Copyright Office can only grant "use" exemptions, but not "tools" exemptions. So if you are granted the right to move Audible audiobooks into a third-party app, you are personally required to figure out how to do that. You have to dump the machine code of the Audible app, decompile it, scan it for vulnerabilities, and bootstrap your own jailbreaking program to take Audible wrapper off the file.

No one is allowed to help you with this. You aren't allowed to discuss any of this publicly, or share a tool that you make with anyone else. Doing any of this is a potential felony.

In other words, DMCA 1201 gives intermediaries power over you, but bans you from asking an intermediary to help you escape another abusive middleman.

This is the exact opposite of how intermediary law should work. We should have rules that ban intermediaries from exercising undue power over the parties they serve, and we should have rules empowering intermediaries to erode the advantage of powerful intermediaries.

The fact that the Copyright Office grants you an exemption to anticircumvention law means nothing unless you can delegate that right to an intermediary who can exercise it on your behalf.

A world without publishing intermediaries is one in which the only writers who thrive are the ones capable of being publishers, too, and that's a tiny fraction of all the writers with something to say.

A world without interoperability intermediaries is one in which the only platform users who thrive are also skilled reverse-engineering ninja hackers – and that's an infinitesimal fraction of the platform users who would benefit from interoperabilty.

Let this be your north star in evaluating platform regulation proposals. Platform regulation should weaken intermediaries' powers over their users, and strengthen their power over other middlemen.

Put in this light, it's easy to see why the ill-informed calls to abolish Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act (which makes platform users, not platforms, responsible for most unlawful speech) are so misguided:

https://www.techdirt.com/2020/06/23/hello-youve-been-referred-here-because-youre-wrong-about-section-230-communications-decency-act/

If we require platforms to surveil all user speech and block anything that might violate any law, we give the largest, most powerful platforms a permanent advantage over smaller, better platforms, run by co-ops, hobbyists, nonprofits local governments, and startups. The big platforms have the capital to rig up massive, automated surveillance and censorship systems, and the only alternatives that can spring up have to be just as big and powerful as the Big Tech platforms we're so desperate to escape:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/23/evacuate-the-platforms/#let-the-platforms-burn

This is especially grave given the current political current, where fascist politicians are threatening platforms with brutal punishments for failing to censor disfavored political views.

Anyone who tells you that "it's only censorship when the government does it" is badly confused. It's only a First Amendment violation when the government does it, sure – but censorship has always relied on intermediaries. From the Inquisition to the Comics Code, government censors were only able to do their jobs because powerful middlemen, fearing state punishments, blocked anything that might cross the line, censoring far beyond the material actually prohibited by the law:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/22/self-censorship/#hugos

We live in a world of powerful, corrupt middlemen. From payments to real-estate, from job-search to romance, there's a legion of parasites masquerading as helpmeets, burying their greedy mouthparts into our tender flesh:

https://www.capitalisnt.com/episodes/visas-hidden-tax-on-americans

But intermediaries aren't the problem. You shouldn't have to stand up your own payment processor, or learn the ins and outs of real-estate law, or start your own single's bar. The problem is power, not intermediation.

As we set out to build a new, good internet (with a lot less help from the US government than seemed likely as recently as last week), let's remember that lesson: the point isn't disintermediation, it's weak intermediation.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/07/usurpers-helpmeets/#disreintermediation

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en (Image: Cryteria, CC BY 3.0, modified)

[writetheidea]

In the Quiet of Us

Hello, I had another idea for a fan fiction. This one was more of a spur-of-the-moment idea, but I hope you still find it enjoyable. As always, I have anonymous ask available for those who would like to express their opinion anonymously.

Pairing:  Lando Norris x named!female character

Plot: Lando Norris learns to navigate his girlfriend's hesitation with physical affection, patiently helping her open up and show love in her own quiet, touch-starved way.

Tag: fluff.

Word count: 1697

Disclaimers: english is not my first language - I feel like you could tell from my writing style - so I apologize if some of the sentences structures are off, or if I use outdated or inappropriate-for-the-context words, I used a synonym dictionary to try and stop myself from repeating the same words, I still did do that though.

The girlfriend has a name as I wasn’t able to write this without a name, I apologize, I made it a shorter name so it can be skimmed over. There is no physical description of them.

Lando Norris had always been an affectionate person, and anyone close to him would tell you the same. Whether it was a warm hug after a tough day or a playful nudge to break the silence, Lando found comfort in touch. Friends and family alike knew he’d be the first to throw an arm around your shoulders, squeeze your hand for reassurance, or wrap you in a bear hug when you needed it most. For Lando, physical closeness wasn’t just a part of life—it was his language, one he was fluent in and spoke without hesitation.

But when it came to Evie, Lando soon realized that physical affection wasn’t something she was used to. She wasn’t cold or distant—quite the opposite, actually—but there was a quietness to her, a shyness that kept her hands tucked in her lap rather than reaching out. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be close to him; he could see the way her eyes softened when he touched her, how her breath would hitch when he leaned in a little too close. But there was always a hesitation, a space she kept between them.

Their first date had been sweet and simple, a quiet dinner followed by a walk in the park. At one point, he’d offered her his arm, hoping she’d take it. But instead, she’d simply smiled and slipped her hands into her pockets. At the end of the night, as they said goodbye, he leaned in for a kiss. She blushed a deep pink, her hands clutching her purse as though it was the only thing keeping her steady. Her hesitation caught him off guard. He’d pulled back, a soft smile on his face to cover the moment’s awkwardness, but she didn’t move away. It was as though she wanted to be closer but didn’t know how to reach for him.

As the weeks passed, Lando began to notice the small ways Evie responded to his touch. She wouldn’t reach for his hand, but she’d linger if he held it. She wouldn’t initiate a hug, but once he pulled her into his arms, she’d hold on tight, pressing her face into his chest like she was grounding herself in his warmth. If he brushed her cheek with his thumb or let his fingers graze hers, her cheeks would flush, her lips parting in a soft, unsure smile. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be close—it was just that she wasn’t sure how to be.

It stung a little at first. Lando had always been so open with his affection, so ready to give, but he quickly realized that Evie just wasn’t used to it. And as he got to know her, he could see how deeply she cared for him in all the ways that didn’t involve touch. She’d make him laugh until his stomach hurt, stay up late just to talk about their days, remember every small detail he shared with her. He saw kindness in her every action, even in her hesitance. And whenever he held her, no matter how shy she seemed, she never pulled away.

She wasn’t rejecting him; she just wasn’t sure how to express her feelings through touch. But that didn’t stop him from being patient, from offering her the space she needed while still trying to show her how much he cared in his own way.

Then, as the months passed, Lando started noticing something else. A pattern, little signs that showed she was trying to be close in her own quiet ways. She’d poke his shoulder after a joke or hold her hand up for a high-five with a shy smile, only to linger a second too long. These gestures became more frequent—small touches, like a light brush of her fingers over his, the faintest hint of a hand on his arm. It dawned on him, in the sweetest way, that this was Evie’s version of physical affection. A high-five, a gentle nudge, an extra glance over her shoulder as he watched her laugh with his family. Each small touch felt like her way of reaching out, even if it didn’t look like much to anyone else.

And Lando loved it. Every high-five, every poke on his shoulder felt like a step forward, like she was learning how to show what she felt in her own way. He noticed that these gestures would come at the sweetest moments—after they’d had a laugh, or when she was watching him with that soft, shy smile of hers, or during the quiet times when they were just being near each other. He realized that Evie wasn’t distant at all. She was just... a little touch-starved, perhaps too used to holding back.

So he decided he’d help make up for all the love she hadn’t had, all the closeness she never felt she could ask for. He started pulling her close more often, wrapping her in warm hugs, brushing kisses over her temple whenever he could. She’d always hesitate at first, that little spark of nervousness in her eyes, but then she’d melt into his arms as if they were the safest place in the world. And every time, he’d whisper soft words of affirmation, making sure she knew how much he loved her, how happy he was just to hold her.

---

One afternoon, while they were sitting together in silence, Lando reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind Evie’s ear. She looked at him, her eyes soft and a little uncertain, and he couldn’t help but smile. He liked the way she looked at him, like she was always just on the verge of saying something but couldn’t quite find the words.

“You’re so cute when you blush,��� he teased gently, his fingers brushing over her cheek.

Evie turned pink, her gaze dropping to her hands. “I... I’m not good at this, Lando,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “Being close... I’m just not sure how to... I don’t want to mess it up.”

Lando’s heart ached at the sadness in her voice. He reached out, cupping her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks. “Evie, you don’t have to know how,” he said softly, his voice filled with love. “You don’t have to do anything. Just let me love you. Let me hold you.”

She met his gaze, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, and slowly, she leaned into his touch, allowing him to pull her close. Her arms wrapped around him tightly, as if he were the only steady thing in her world.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice so soft, he almost couldn’t hear it. “For being patient with me.”

“You’re worth every second,” Lando murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He meant it with all of his heart.

---

As time passed, Evie began to open up in small, quiet ways. She started to initiate small gestures, things she’d never done before. She would reach for his hand when they watched a movie, her fingers gently curling around his. She would rest her head on his shoulder, her breath soft against his neck. Each small touch was a quiet declaration of her love, her way of showing him that she was learning how to trust in the closeness they shared.

One morning, as Lando was making breakfast, he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist from behind. He froze for a moment, caught off guard by the warmth of her embrace. But then he relaxed, covering her hands with his and smiling as his heart swelled. They stood there for a while, wrapped in each other, and for the first time, Lando felt like they had finally found a rhythm together—one that didn’t need words, one that was just about being there for each other.

Each day brought something new—a gentle touch, a small kiss, a hesitant hug. She would press a kiss to his cheek, rest her head on his chest as they lay together, ask him to hold her on days when she felt vulnerable. Every gesture made his heart swell, and he made sure she knew how much he cherished each one. With every forehead kiss, every squeeze of her hand, he let her know that her love was a gift, never a burden.

---

In the quiet moments that followed, Lando never stopped showing Evie how much he loved her. With every soft kiss on her forehead, every gentle squeeze of her hand, he let her know that her love was a gift, one he treasured deeply. And in return, Evie began to understand that love didn’t need to be loud or perfect—it just needed to be there, in every little gesture, in every quiet moment they shared.

One quiet evening, after a long day, they found themselves on the couch, wrapped up in each other and a warm blanket. The TV played softly in the background, but neither of them paid much attention. Evie was nestled against Lando’s side, her fingers tracing slow patterns over his hand, her head resting against his shoulder. He felt her breath even out, and he looked down to find her gaze soft and peaceful, a contented look he was coming to cherish. It was a peaceful silence, one that spoke volumes.

After a while, Evie lifted her head and looked up at him, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. “Do you think I’ll ever be as good at this as you are?” she asked, her voice filled with uncertainty.

Lando gave her hand a gentle squeeze, smiling at her with a warmth that held no expectation, only love. “You’re already everything I need, Evie,” he said simply, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Just as you are.”

She leaned back against him, her fingers curling around his as she closed her eyes, content. And for the first time, they didn’t need words to feel how much they meant to each other. They had found their own way, and it was perfect.

In that silence, wrapped in each other’s arms, they both knew that love could be quiet, soft, and yet, more than enough.

[loganhowlettshousewife]

animal

chapter 4

friendly reminder that i am not a writer, i'm just a girl who loves logan howlett and wanted to write something exploring his animalistic side since i so rarely see it done. my first language is also not english, so please do not be rude when giving me any feedback.

warnings: swearing, drinking/alcohol, mentions of sex, mentions of blood, violence, killing, angst, i hate the pacing of this but i rewrote it like three times and then gave up

series masterlist │my masterlist

after sharing your first kiss, logan becomes much more clingy. he’s attached to you at nearly all times. if you’d thought he was affectionate before, you had no idea what you were getting into. his favourite thing is to press his face into your neck, licking and biting the skin there, but it’s not just your neck. you’ve become a chew toy for a 400 pound man.

he’s never too harsh with it, always gentle with you. he knows you’re not as strong as him. it’s affectionate nibbling, like dogs biting their owners, and you love it because it’s such a clear sign of logan’s happiness.

it reminds you of the early days with logan, where he couldn’t stand to be in a different room as you, though now it’s no longer out of fear but out of a deep desire for closeness and companionship.

and things are good for a while, like that. you enjoy the ease of your unlabeled relationship. he’s yours and you’re his, in every capacity. there’s no need to put an arbitrary, man-made label on your relationship when most of it is quiet, unspoken. you’ve never really had a conversation about what you are, but it’s obvious.

you had thought yourself happy before meeting logan, at peace with the life you’d made for yourself, self-sufficient and doing all the things you loved. you weren’t slaving away at a corporate job, making hardly enough money to support your hobbies, leaving you with hardly any time to enjoy them anyway. it was good.

this is a different kind of happiness, one you’d thought was only real in fairytales. you feel as though he has some sort of six-sense telling him how you’re feeling, when you’re tense or unhappy. he makes you feel like a princess.

but all good things must come to an end. 

he starts to have more nightmares, takes to sleeping in the guest room because he doesn’t want to keep you awake all night with him. more often than not you’ll hear him shouting in his sleep, deep grunts of pain that have you rising from your bed and joining him, hoping your presence will soothe him.

and you like to think that it does. you never get too close to him when he’s tossing and turning restlessly, claws out, metal gleaming in the low moonlight streaming from the gap in the curtains, but you know that logan’s senses are enhanced, heightened, and so you hope that he can feel your presence even while stuck in a nightmare, that you can drag him out of it. eventually he always either settles or wakes up, though both are better alternatives than watching him struggle against an invisible enemy.

you’ve had a few more close calls, where his claws get a little too close, where you let your guard down and lean closer towards him even though you know better, because your heart aches for him.

he becomes more human by the day. he doesn’t tell you when his memories start to come back to him, but you can tell.

you can tell when you get home to find him on the couch with a bottle of whiskey that he must have gotten from the cellar, the one you’d never shown him how to find. it belonged to your grandfather, so you’d gotten it along with the house, but you don’t drink very often and so you haven’t made much use of it.

he takes large swigs of the half-empty bottle, the smell of whiskey on his breath and the taste of booze on his tongue when you go to kiss him. 

you can tell when he becomes less expressive with you, no longer sharing his emotions on his face or with his behaviour as easily as before. he doesn’t bound up to you and sniff you to check where you’ve been, to check if anyone’s gotten too close, their scent clinging onto your clothes. he doesn’t growl when he’s upset or annoyed, just grits his teeth and clenches his jaw tight.

you can tell by the way he holds back his little noises when you pull his head into your lap, scratching at his scalp and tugging on the longer tufts of his hair that you’d jokingly started to refer to as kitty ears. you miss the soft purring, the knowledge that logan was happy and comfortable with you.

sometimes you’ll plan out conversations in your head, acting out how you’ll talk to him and the words you’ll use and how he might reply. but when you try to ask him if he’s alright, placing a hand on his trembling one, sitting down in his lap so he can’t escape, he always shrugs it off. he tells you you’re sweet for worrying about him and kisses you until you no longer remember what you wanted to say.

there’s something happening in his mind that he’s not telling you about, but you chalk up all his odd behaviours to him needing time to deal with remembering his old life.

if his constant nightmares tell you anything, it’s that the memories returning to him aren’t positive ones. there’s a pain in him that wasn’t there before, a darkness that lingers behind his eyes, haunted by things he’s seen. you can’t imagine anyone would deal very well with the onslaught of traumas returning with a vengeance.

he doesn’t stop kissing you, doesn’t stop hugging you from behind, doesn’t stop surprising you by sneaking up behind you and picking you up out of nowhere, making you shriek and giggle. so you tell yourself you’re being dramatic, it’ll resolve itself in time.

it doesn’t.

he goes out to run through the forest, to hunt as the natural predator he was always meant to be, but when he comes back he won’t speak to you. he shrugs you off, locking the door to the bathroom so you can’t meet him in there.

it’s a small thing, but it’s a crack in the routines you and logan have been building together, the wordless nature of your relationship crumbling around you because all of a sudden it no longer feels like the two of you are on the same wavelength.

you cry silently on the couch, head in your hands, feeling like your world is collapsing. the perfect bubble that had settled around you and logan had popped, and now reality was coming in to destroy the fantasy you’d grown accustomed to. you should have seen it coming - in fact, you had, with every night he spent in a bottle instead of on your lips, but you’d chosen to ignore it.

he doesn’t seem to be as in-tune with your emotions anymore, and you wonder if it’s because he simply doesn’t care enough to try.

the through wrenches you in two.

you had given logan your heart, placed it in his rough, calloused hands and asked him to hold it for you. and now you could feel that very same hand, once so gentle and careful, squeezing tighter and tighter, a physical ache.

you need time away from him, away from the house where every corner has memories attached. so you journey into town.

you’re out for a while, walking aimlessly. the streets grow dark, the sun setting in hues of orange and pink behind the horizon, streetlamps turning on to replace the sunlight, though their dim glow is hardly an effective replacement. and still, you don’t return home, not quite ready to face logan.

it’s as you’re preparing to head back, muttering reassuring words to yourself under your breath, that someone grabs you from behind, a hand against your mouth so you can’t scream. you’re shoved into an alley, thin and dingy between two shops that have already closed for the night, their employees gone home to rest, no one around to hear your struggles.

you scream, though the sound is muffled, and cry and kick at your assailant, but he won’t let go. he’s stronger than you.

you think about logan, who doesn’t know where you are, who probably walked out of the bathroom with only a towel around his waist, stray droplets of water tracing down the grooves of his abs. you think about how on any other day you would have kissed down his chest to catch the water on your lips, not yet venturing below his waist, though you’ve done other things.

you hope you don’t die tonight. there’s still so much you haven’t done, so much you haven’t said.

and then the body holding yours is gone and you fall to the ground, knees scraping the pavement on your way down. you cry and cry, fear and anger and relief all washing together into a mess you can’t name. you barely notice the sounds of your assailant begging for mercy, or the low growl from your saviour. but you can smell the blood in the air, the tang of iron.

“what the fuck were you thinking?” strong arms lift you up and instinctively you squirm to try to get away, until a hand grabs your chin and forces your gaze upwards. logan’s furious glare stares back at you, his eyes narrowed and jaw tense.

“i- i’m sorry,” you whisper, barely able to get the words out, and you collapse against him. because even if he’s covered in blood and his claws are still out and he’s just murdered a man, even if he’s clearly angry and dangerous, you’ve never felt safer.

he’s quiet the whole way home. he doesn’t speak to you as he carries you inside the house, refusing to let you walk on your own, doesn’t speak to you as he cleans the cuts on your knees, doesn’t speak to you as he settles you down on the couch with a soft blanket fresh out of the dryer, doesn’t speak to you as he makes your tea the exact way you like it.

and then, “wanna tell me what you were doing out there? you know it’s unsafe for a pretty girl like you after dark, you don’t need me telling you that.”

“i just needed some air,” you argue, though there’s not much heat behind the words, staring down at your steaming mug of tea, watching the unmoving liquid as if it’s the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen. logan scoffs, and you can see him in your peripheral vision, looking so unlike the man you thought you knew.

“there’s plenty of air here, we’re in the middle of fucking nowhere.”

“you know what i mean,” you sigh, and he stares at you with his hands on his hips until you roll your eyes and continue, “i needed to be away from you! is that what you want to hear? you’re different lately and it scares me because everything was so great for some time and now you’re…”

“different?” he laughs sharply, “yeah, i’ve got my memories back. i remember every awful fucking thing that’s ever happened to me, every time i’ve been tortured. you know how many times i’ve been tortured? you think i’d act the same after that?”

“it’s not that,” you argue, placing your mug down on the coffee table, “we don’t sleep in the same bed anymore! you refuse to let me see you when you come home after hunting! you don’t cuddle up to me like you did before! you used to kiss my neck all the time and now you don’t! you’re just… pulling away. and i know i’m being selfish, fuck do i know it. but every time i’ve tried to have a conversation with you about this you shut it down so what was i supposed to do, logan?”

“you wanna have a conversation?” he shouts, “fine, talk.”

your breath is coming out in ragged pants. there’s a fire in your veins, a fury you haven’t felt in a very long time, it’s intensity paralysing you. you watch logan’s face, the way he stands before you, his imposing figure stretched above yours.

and there’s nothing you can say. the words you’ve been preparing every night before bed for days and days flutter away in a breeze. all you can do is watch his chest rising and falling.

“i wish you would talk to me,” is the only thing you manage to choke out.

“you’re not getting that version of me back,” he says, voice finally softening into something resembling his usual gruff but not unkind tone, “i remember who i am now. so you gotta let go of this shit, or you gotta let go of me.”

taglist: @mystiquesvendetta @raeinyourdreams @babey-fruit-bat @meetmypointlessaddiction @kneelforloki @deaky-with-a-c @hypermarvellove @littlepeanut03 @the-ruler-of-death @aliengutzstuff @misscrissfemmefatale @mynamesstevenwithav @teaganthemorningstar @blackkatzz @leryg0 @fries11 @forksloree @i5uckersblog @dragovegogrimborn @quillycrow @melday0105 @just-a-little-cellist @scorpiosaintt @akasha157-blog

if your name is in white it means i couldn’t tag you for some reason. i’m very sorry :(

[juniperskye]

Three’s Company

This is just a lil blurb about Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan and you being in love! Based on the following Request: @satans-bitch Hi! Idk if you would be comfortable writing it, but I love the idea of Aaron hotchner x reader x Derek Morgan just all being so in love with each other. Thank u Xx – I took some creative liberties…I hope you like it!

Hotch x BAU! Fem Reader x Morgan

Word count: 883

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, Fem reader, pet names, poly-relationship (I’m not the most familiar with this lifestyle) canon typical violence, mantion of babies and pregnancy, Let me know if I missed any.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

So, neither Derek nor Aaron ever and I mean EVER thought they’d be in a polyamorous relationship. But let me tell you, when you arrived at the BAU, they both knew they had to have you. Aaron had gone to Dave time and time again seeking advice and Derek did the same with Penelope.

They’d both complain that there was no way you were interested, because clearly you like the other guy. Only, that wasn’t quite the issue.

You didn’t just like Aaron or Derek, you liked them both. They were so similar and yet so different and there was no way you could ever choose just one of them.

After many instances of the men fighting for your attention and affection, you pulled them both aside to have a serious conversation.

“I think I should leave the BAU.” You stated.

“What? No!” Derek blurted.

“Why would you think that?” Aaron inquired. “If our behavior has made you uncomfortable, I am so sorry. It was never my intention, and I would hate to see such a talented agent leave because of my idiocy.”

“It’s not your guy’s behavior that’s making me feel this way. It’s my feelings for you.” You said, gesturing to both men.

“Feelings for who?” Derek questioned.

“Both of you.” You blushed.

That evening you’d explained to the men that you had feelings for both of them and had the situation been different you’d have suggested a poly relationship, but you knew that it was too much to ask of two alpha males who’d never been in one before.

What you hadn’t expected to happen was for them to give you a quizzical look and then ask you to give them some time to think about it.

--

It had been nearly a year since then and the three of you had developed something truly beautiful. Aaron had been so stoic at work but at home he was soft, and he always did everything in his power to ensure you and Derek were both cared for.

And well Derek, he was clingy at home. Always wanting his hands on you and he’d come to really enjoy having physical contact with Aaron.

Like when you’d watch a movie, Aaron would have his arm slung over the back of the couch while you cuddled up into his side, and Derek would be sitting as close to you as possible, practically sitting you in his lap. This position would allow for Aaron’s hand to rest around Derek as well and that warmth became a comfort for him.

There had been another shift shortly after that, pet names…they’d been slipping out more frequently. And not just them men using them with you either.

“Sweetheart can you pass me my phone?” Aaron had asked, looking directly at Derek.

“Sure thing sugar.” Derek had replied.

You had been shocked initially, but it ultimately had warmed your heart to see them falling into this relationship more and more. Their comfort in this had been your main priority, you hadn’t cared about anything else.

--

Work had been the toughest part of this newfound dynamic. When any of you got hurt on a case, the other two couldn’t exactly hold it together. And with the team being out of the loop of your lifestyle, well they definitely suspected something.

The most recent had been Aaron, he had been shot while taking down an unsub. Thankfully it had been a flesh wound, but when you heard the shot and saw him go down, you couldn’t help the wail that tore through you. The paramedics had requested you step away, and Derek pulled you into his embrace to get you to comply.

“Baby he’s gonna be okay!” Derek said while holding you close.

“He was shot D! What if he’s not?” You cried.

“I know he’s gonna be okay baby. He has to be.” Derek mumbled the last part.

You looked up to see the tears falling from his misty eyes, and you held him tighter. The team sat by and watched the situation play out, fully convinced now that something was transpiring between the three of you. More than they had initially assumed.

--

The newest development had been the discussion of children. The guys had baby fever, they had seen you interacting with your sister’s newborn and you swear you saw them both drooling over the sight of you.

So…have you ever thought about having kids princess?” Derek posed.

Currently you were lying on the couch, your head in Derek’s lap and him pressed against Aaron. The movie playing, long forgotten as Derek combed his fingers through your hair and Aaron traced shapes on Derek’s bicep.

“Um, yes…I have thought about it. Why do you ask?” You sat up.

“Well, honey, we had a conversation about it the other day.” Aaron clarified.

“You two…had a conversation about me having a baby?” You questioned.

“About us…having a baby.” Derek said, gesturing to the three of you.

Your jaw dropped in shock. What had started as inappropriate flirting in the workplace had developed into a serious relationship between the three of you. One fueled by love, safety, and trust.

“I would love to have a baby with you guys.” You smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

[yanderefarm]

Currently caught up on your posts and saw what 🪐 anon said so to make this better lets break some more yanderes!!

We already got some Nephy content so let's step it up a notch..

How about making some of the yanderes totally codependent on us in order to even live?? Like we go really extreme and remove one of their limbs sort of things because if they're willing to do anything to keep us then we should return the favor to them

I have an issue...

-🐝

cw;; cannibalism, gore, amputation, violence, abuse, ableism (kind of?? this isn't meant to be realistic depictions to begin with so take it with a grain of salt), amputation kink, dehumanization, dumbification, pet play, dead dove don't eat

ohhhh the amputation ask was about us doing it. still. its an amputation kind of night so we're doing it.

i can only see this with a few of them so im just gonna write about them. tbh i could probably also do something with ajax but i don't know what.

silvan;; he can't hurt himself anymore if he doesn't have arms. after being particularly bad and hurting himself enough to leave an ugly scar you decided to go through the process of having his limbs removed. it's usually reserved for cruel pet owners but in your case it's necessary for his own well being. well removing his legs wasn't necessary but you thought it would be better that way. he's completely dependent on you, he has no choice but to spend his days being carried by you or his maid because you refuse to give him any mobility aids. the only time he gets a taste of freedom again is during parties where you outfit him in beautiful but barely functional porcelain prosthetics. he can't move his hands and he can just barely walk so he still has to rely on you.

imagine him cutely waking you up by crawling over top of you. you open your eyes and look up to see his cheeks red and tears in his eyes. poor thing needs you to carry him to the bathroom, you give him a little kiss before you put him on the bed. you watch him squirm and try to sit up before you finally pick him up like a child. his tears soak your nightshirt as you carry him to the bathroom. he's so pathetic.

achilles;; the ultimate punishment. one of your regulars in your streams and as a customer asked you one night how much for a leg, normal question for you. except he meant achilles leg. and he was willing to pay millions for it. achilles and you spend a long time talking it over. it's not that you don't love the idea of taking away his life and making him solely dependent on you but you're worried about him waking up one day hating you for doing this to him. he assures you that's impossible and even if he did wake up one day hating you he would want you to break him back into place. he asserts over and over that his life, his body, his mind are all yours to break as you will. so he loses a leg. and then an arm. and soon enough your cute toy is just a sweet little thing that needs you for everything.

imagine him crawling as best he can over to you whining the whole way. you take pity on him and pick him up, sitting him in your lap while you play games. everyone in the stream says hi to him so excited to see him and his face that was once the picture of stoicism lights up with glee. he waves a nubby arm at them and almost falls off your lap. you give him a gentle kiss as you fix him between your legs. you have to remind him again to use his words and he struggles to think like he has every day since he became a happy little toy. "fhank you!!" so cute.

noemie;; he's premium meat and you've always found it a waste not to eat him no matter how much you like him. so when he gets on your last nerve you decide you've had enough. he screams and cries like a proper pig but you can tell even through his tears he's so happy. you only take his limbs and let him keep the rest because that's how much you like him. he is so grateful when he watches you eating one of his legs and you're kind enough to feed him some as well!! and now, you take your four legged piggy and you put him in your bedroom, metal on his nubs, hook in his nose, a little fake pig tail in his ass. he's a reward for you after a long day of work. sometimes you take him out and carry him around for some fresh air and to see everything you've been working on.

imagine opening the door to your bedroom to see your little piggy sitting in his bed on the floor looking excited to see you and immediately oinking. you pick him up and carefully remove his nose hook before you start to head to the bath. you're covered in blood and grime from work and he smells sweaty. he'll cuddle against your chest while he talks about what he thought about all day and how much he missed you. in the bath he'll splash and blow bubbles and be all excited you have to take him out and wrap him tightly in his towel so you can actually clean yourself. but he'll never stop talking and praising and smiling at you.

[motherismotheringggg]

rhythm & heat

summary: you and nicholas are co-stars in a fun and innocent PR relationship, the chemistry was already there so it just feels natural but something shifts when you, him and cast go out.

type: fem! reader x nicholas (i tried add some of Nicholas’ POV per my friend’s suggestion, it’ll be in red to stand out)

tags/warnings: 18+, fingering, oral (m! receiving), unprotected sex (wrap your willy yall) and creampie

author’s note: i’m having sooooo much fun writing again so thanks to everyone who’s been encouraging me to do it. i used to write in college and now that im 27 (almost 28 in january) it’s good to get back into it. i wanted to do something while im working on slow burn pt. 3 so i hope yall like it!!!!

🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩

The bass pulsed through the club, sending ripples of heat and sound through the packed dance floor. Neon lights flickered overhead, casting an electric glow over the scene as bodies moved in sync with the music. The air was thick with anticipation, the kind that made everyone buzz with energy, like something wild could happen at any moment.

You and your co-star, Nicholas Chavez, were out celebrating the wrap of the second season—a well-deserved break after months of filming. The first season had been a hit, with fans and critics alike praising your performances and the chemistry you brought to your characters. And of course, that chemistry hadn’t gone unnoticed. Rumors about the two of you had been swirling since the first season, with fans speculating about what might be going on off-camera.

And they weren’t completely off. Your and Nicholas’s teams had decided that hinting at a romance would be the perfect, harmless way to build buzz for the next season. You weren’t usually one for gimmicks, but you both thought it’d be fun, and honestly, with the chemistry you two shared on screen, the idea didn’t feel far-fetched. Playing at “dating” off-screen just felt natural.

There were moments on set where the boundary between acting and reality seemed to blur. In one particularly intense scene, you and Nicholas’s character finished having sex and his hands roamed in a way that made sense for the character but caught you off guard, you leaned in to commit to the scene but you remember leaving the set that day with your heart fluttering.

Off set, at interviews and press events, the playful banter you shared made the rumors almost impossible to deny. During one red carpet appearance, when a reporter asked what Nicholas liked best about working with you, he leaned close and, in a low voice, said, “She makes me forget we’re acting.” The reporters loved it, and you could feel your cheeks warm under the spotlight.

Even your off-duty moments seemed to fuel the rumors. You remembered the night you and Nicholas went to see Sabrina Carpenter in concert and to avoid the crowds, you were escorted through hidden elevators in the arena. One of the elevators was especially small, so when you were pushed inside with security guards and crew, space was tight. Somehow, you ended up in the back corner, pressed chest to chest with Nicholas, his arm slipping around your waist to pull you closer.

When you joked about it later, he laughed, claiming he was just “making room” for everyone. But you couldn’t ignore the way his hand lingered at your waist during the two-minute ride—or how, when you shifted to get more comfortable, you felt his hardness through his jeans.

There were countless other moments and with another press run coming up, it just felt like you were still both “in character” all the time but for tonight, you just wanted to dance, let loose, and get ready for another thrilling media cycle. You, Nicholas and a few costars decided to go out to a boiler room club in the city. None of you had planned on playing into the rumors tonight, but as the crowd grew, Nicholas slipped into “boyfriend” mode without a second thought. His hand found your waist, guiding you through the crowd; he held your hand, lingered close, and let his touches drift to intimate places whenever you danced or laughed together.

The night felt electric. Drinks flowed freely, adding a warm edge to the pulsing bass that reverberated through the walls and floor. Your group had claimed a private section overlooking the dance floor, with a perfect view of the swirling neon lights below. Fans would catch glimpses of you and the cast, looking up with wide smiles, waving, and cheering to show their love. Some even made heart shapes with their hands or mouthed “We love you” as they danced. Every now and then, Nicholas would slide his arm around your waist, pulling you close for a quick fan photo or to lean in as he spoke over the music, his breath grazing your ear.

Nicholas could hardly keep his eyes off you. Even in the chaos of the club, you stood out—like a spark in the dark, drawing him in. The energy around you, the way you moved, the way you threw back your head to laugh at something your friend said… it made his chest feel tight. He’d been watching you for a while now, unable to shake the feeling that tonight was different.

At first, it was all casual, harmless fun. But as the night wore on and the drinks kept coming, you couldn’t help but notice a shift. Nicholas’s touches lingered a little longer, his fingers resting at your waist even when the picture was done or the conversation had shifted. The way he looked at you changed too—his gaze softened, his words slower, and his attention focused entirely on you, despite the crowd around you both.

When the group began to dance, he stayed close, his hand brushing yours, fingers grazing along your arm, almost as if testing the waters. As the music thumped, he moved nearer, his chest pressing lightly against your back, his hand slipping down to rest at your hip. Every touch, every shared laugh, felt charged, and you could feel the tension building in each small gesture. You’d been close to him before, but this was different—the alcohol, the music, the night itself seemed to bring out something more raw.

His thoughts became a blur of want, fueled by the subtle way your lips parted as you looked up at him. The pull was irresistible, drawing him closer as he traced his fingers along the small of your back, letting his thumb graze your hip in a possessive but tender gesture. He was intoxicated, not just by the alcohol but by you, by the way you felt so effortlessly right in his arms.

As you danced, his heartbeat quickened, his breaths shallow and erratic. He wondered if you knew what you were doing to him—how just being close to you made it feel impossible to think straight. Every touch, every whisper, was like fuel to a fire that had been smoldering since the moment he’d met you. He couldn't ignore it any longer, the way you’d somehow slipped beneath his skin. He wanted all of you—the quick wit, the mischievous grin, the soft vulnerability he saw in your eyes in quieter moments on set. And tonight, he wanted you in a way that left no room for pretense or careful boundaries.

You two were dancing face to face, the music vibrating through your chest as you moved in sync. Nicholas leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear, the warmth of his breath sending a jolt of heat through your body. His voice was low and smooth, a touch playful, as he whispered, “How’s my girl feeling tonight?”

His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you in closer, pressing your bodies together as if there was any space left between you two. You could feel the solid muscle of his chest against yours, the strength in his arms as they wrapped around you, grounding you in the moment. The heat of his touch lingered where his fingers gently grazed the curve of your waist, sending a wave of electricity through your skin.

You were attracted to Nicholas, no doubt about it. Up close, he was all intense, striking features that seemed made for this low, pulsing light. His deep-set brown eyes held a mischievous spark, the kind that always kept you guessing and a little on edge, even when the cameras weren’t rolling. His jawline was sharp, almost sculpted, and as he looked down at you, the soft stubble along it caught the neon glow, adding an edge to his otherwise boyish charm.

As you looked up, his tousled dark hair fell a bit across his forehead, framing his face in a way that softened his piercing gaze. His lips, full and inviting, curled into a subtle smirk as he looked at you, as though he knew exactly what kind of effect he had. You felt his fingers shift at your waist, his thumb tracing small, almost hypnotic circles against your hip, bringing a flush to your skin.

Despite the undeniable attraction, you hesitated to lean into whatever Nicholas was offering. Playing “relationship” was fun, but you knew getting involved with a co-star was a risky move. You flashed him a playful smirk, your voice teasing as you responded, “Your co-star is doing fine.” You took a small step back, creating just enough space to break the intensity between you two. But it wasn’t enough to stop the flirtation—you secretly hoped he’d pull you right back in.

He wasn’t having any of it. “Stop playing with me,” Nicholas groaned, his voice taking on that low, almost dangerous tone you couldn’t ignore. He leaned back down, his face just inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. “You know I want you.”

His words sent a thrill coursing through you, the heat of his breath making your pulse race. Despite the hesitation, you could feel your body betraying you, urging you to close the space between you two again. His head lingered by your ear, his lips brushing against your skin, just barely a touch, sending a spark through you. Before you could pull back, his lips grazed the sensitive spot near your neck, planting soft, lingering “innocent” kisses.

The kisses were feather-light, almost teasing, yet each one felt like a jolt of electricity. They were gentle but purposeful, just enough to make your knees weaken and your womanhood tremble. His closeness, the warmth of his skin against yours, was intoxicating, and with every soft kiss, you found yourself craving more.

With a few sharp breaths and low moans, he knew he had you. The sound of his name on your lips, barely above a whisper, was all the confirmation he needed. You tilted your head to the side, offering him your neck, giving him full access to your skin. His hands, on your waist, pulling you even closer, his body flush against yours.

He didn’t hold back. His lips moved with confidence now, kissing the delicate curve of your neck with more urgency. Each kiss was deeper and more insistent, the pressure of his mouth leaving a trail of heat and need in its wake. His tongue darted out, tracing the sensitive skin beneath your ear, sending a shiver of desire straight through your body.

You could feel him smiling against your skin, sensing the way your body responded to his touch—how you instinctively leaned into him, drawn to the heat between you. His hands, bold and sure, roamed lower, the pads of his fingers grazing the curve of your back, sending a shiver of pleasure through you. The sensation was soft at first but quickly turned more intense, his touch growing bolder, more confident with each passing second. Every moment between you two felt like a slow burn, the anticipation building as his lips trailed over the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

Then, when he shifted, you felt it—his hardness brushing against your thigh. The contact sent a wave of heat straight through you, an electric shock that heightened every nerve in your body. It was enough to make your pulse race, enough to make you realize how much you wanted him in that moment.

Without thinking, you reached down, your fingers gently grazing over the fabric of his pants, feeling the outline of him. The pressure of his body against yours, the growing heat between you two, made you want more—made you want to make him feel just as desperate for you as you felt for him.

You could feel the quickening of his breath, the way his chest rose and fell against yours. A low groan rumbled from his throat as you continued to trace his length, every brush of your fingers sending a thrill through both of you. His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you even closer, as though he couldn’t get enough of you either.

Without another moment passing, Nicholas grabbed your hand, his fingers tight around yours, pulling you through the crowded space. He moved with purpose, guiding you down the secret hallway the cast used to get into the club, away from the prying eyes and flashing lights. Each step seemed to quicken the pulse between you, the anticipation building with every turn. You felt his grip firm on your hand, but also the heat radiating off him, as though he couldn't wait any longer.

With just a few more steps, you found yourselves in the private dead-end hallway. It was dim, secluded—perfectly private. Before you could process what was happening, Nicholas had you pressed up against the cold wall, his body pinning you in place. The urgency in his movements left no room for hesitation as he slammed his lips onto yours, the kiss fierce, demanding. His mouth claimed yours with a hunger that mirrored your own, lips moving against each other as if he couldn’t get enough.

His hands weren’t idle either. One moved to your waist, gripping you tightly as if to keep you exactly where he wanted you, while the other traveled lower, finding its way to the waistband of your panties. His touch was deliberate and heated, and in an instant, his hand slipped beneath the fabric. His fingers brushed the sensitive skin just above them, the contact sending a shock of heat straight through you.

You gasped into his mouth, the electricity of his touch overwhelming, making every part of you ache for more. His fingers continued to tease, moving with slow, deliberate pressure, testing the limits of your restraint. He continued to rub and massage your sweet spot while you moaned and squirmed against his kiss. He pulled away just enough to watch you under his power.

From his vantage, you were a vision—utterly captivating in every response. He loved the way your eyes fluttered closed, only to open halfway, trying to find his gaze but faltering under the intense pleasure he was giving you. The way your teeth sank into your lip, trying to hold back the sounds you couldn’t suppress, only spurred him on. Each flick of his fingers brought a fresh wave of moans and whines, soft and breathy, laced with his name in barely-contained pleas. Hearing you beg him to take things further, to lose himself with you completely, made him feel invincible. He knew he had you right where he wanted, and he was savoring every moment.

You planted one last, deep kiss on his lips before sinking to your knees in front of him, never breaking eye contact. Nicholas’ gaze darkened, his breath catching slightly as he watched you with a mixture of anticipation and hunger. Your hands moved with urgency, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants, your fingers grazing over the heat radiating from his body. As you freed him, he let out a soft groan, his gaze fixed on you, filled with both awe and impatience.

His hands instinctively found their way to your hair, tangling in it gently as you looked up at him, the connection between you electric and unspoken. The way he was watching you—intense, with a mix of excitement and restraint—made your pulse race. His pupils were dilated, his breathing uneven, and you could see the anticipation building in his expression as he waited, every part of him attuned to your next move.

As you leaned closer, he tightened his grip, his fingers brushing against your scalp, guiding you but letting you set the pace. You started slow, savoring every moment, every reaction, feeling his muscles tense and hearing his breaths turn to low, needy moans. His chest rose and fell heavily as he fought to keep control, his head tilting back slightly as he surrendered to your touch, murmuring your name in a rough, breathy tone that only made you want him more.

Every time you paused to swirl your tongue around his tip, Nicholas' whole body tensed, his breathing turning shallow as he let out a low, drawn-out hiss. The sound of your name on his lips, mixed with whispered curses, filled the air. He couldn’t help himself, alternating between breathless moans and deep, husky praises. “God, you’re such a good girl,” he murmured, his voice filled with a raw, admiring intensity. “You look so beautiful taking me like this.”

With each word, his grip in your hair tightened just enough to keep you where he wanted. His hands were steady, yet you could feel the slight tremor in his fingers as his need for you grew. Finally, he held your head in both hands, his gaze locked on yours, guiding you with a slow, deliberate motion. He pushed himself deeper, filling your mouth as his hips rocked in rhythm, pressing him to the back of your throat. The sounds escaping him were desperate yet controlled, each ragged breath carrying his satisfaction.

“Look at me, baby,” he whispered, his voice dropping to a breathy, gruff murmur, thick with desire. “Let me see those pretty eyes.” His gaze was commanding yet filled with an undeniable admiration, and as you met his eyes, he let out a deep, shuddering breath, fully captivated by the sight of you. The connection between you was intense, wordlessly conveying his appreciation for everything you were giving him, every shiver and sigh pulling him closer to the edge.

Your throat tightened slightly as you tried to take all of him, a small gag escaping despite your best efforts. Nicholas chuckled softly, a low, satisfied sound, and his hand moved to gently tap your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with a subtle affection that made your heart race. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, pride evident in his tone.

His hands slid down to your shoulders, pulling you up to meet him, and the moment your lips touched, he captured you in a deep, consuming kiss. It was passionate, full of hunger and appreciation, and he groaned against your mouth, relishing in the taste of you. He leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes filled with a soft, smoldering intensity. “You did so good, baby,” he whispered, his voice rough yet tender. “You looked so perfect, taking me in… just like I always knew you could.”

Each word sent a wave of warmth through you, and his hands stayed on your hips, grounding you, his gaze never straying from yours. He ran a thumb over your bottom lip, still swollen from your efforts, his gaze filled with both desire and genuine admiration as he traced your features, savoring every moment and every breath shared between you.

Nicholas could feel the anticipation radiating off you, your body responding to his every touch and move. He knew just how much you wanted him, and he wanted to give you everything you craved. With deliberate slowness, he turned you around, pressing you gently forward. His hands slid up your thighs as he lifted the hem of your dress, savoring the soft, heated skin beneath. In one fluid motion, he pulled down your panties, his lips still trailing along your neck and shoulders, leaving a trail of warm, lingering kisses that made your breath quicken. He groaned into your ear, his voice low and thick with desire, reveling in the way your back arched, your body silently pleading for more.

“I wanna make you feel so good,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. His hands roamed over your hips as he positioned himself behind you, letting his tip trace over your folds, teasing you until you were trembling in his grasp. The first sensation of him entering you made your breath catch, a shudder running through both of you as he filled you, slow and deep. You instinctively moved in sync, bodies finding a perfect rhythm, every thrust sending a wave of pleasure through you.

Nicholas buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath coming in rough, heated gasps as he lost himself in the moment, savoring every pulse and movement of your body against his. You reached back, threading your fingers into his hair, giving it a gentle tug, and he let out a breathless whimper—a sound that only made you ache for him more. His need to be in control fueled you, but there was something thrilling in the way he let you pull him back, every now and then, giving you the slightest taste of control.

You guided one of his hands from your hip, pressing it down between your legs. He understood immediately, his fingers finding and massaging that sensitive spot, adding another layer of intensity to your connection. He quickly obliged, his touch skilled and deliberate, and you felt yourself unraveling under the dual sensations, every nerve heightened, every thought fading into pure, unfiltered bliss.

Nicholas’s pace quickened, and with every movement, he brought an intensity that made you lose yourself further with each second. His hands roamed your body, seeking out every place that could make you unravel under his touch. One moment he’d slap your ass, and in the next, his fingers wrapped around your neck, adding a delicious pressure that only heightened the sensations. He reached between your legs, his fingers brushing against your heat, before gently tilting your head, exposing more of your neck so he could plant hungry, open-mouthed kisses there. The air around you both grew hotter, more electric, and you could feel that familiar pressure building, bringing you both to the brink.

He leaned into your ear, his voice thick with need, a hint of desperation woven into it. “I want to cum for you, baby,” he breathed. “Tell me how bad you want it.”

Your voice came out in a shaky whisper, overcome by the sensations he was giving you. “Let’s do it together. I’m so close,” you pleaded, feeling yourself hovering right at the edge. His thrusts stayed steady but powerful, his head buried against your neck, breaths hitching and moans deepening. His grip on your hips tightened, guiding your body to match his rhythm perfectly, every stroke hitting deeper, more intense.

Nicholas, always the performer, could feel just how close you were, but he wanted to hear it. His voice was a low, teasing growl. “Tell me how much you want me, baby,” he commanded. “Tell me how good this feels… tell me who you belong to.” With each demand, his movements became more forceful, every stroke making you lose control a bit more.

He was close too, a raw intensity filling each thrust, and just before the finish, he grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling your head back to make sure he felt every shudder of your response.

“Are you ready, baby?” he gasped, his tone shaky as he was right on the edge. You tried to say his name, but the feeling was so intense, it came out as a breathless, pleading sound. You nodded, barely able to form words as your body responded, every nerve lit up as you both finally reached your climax.

As he spilled into you, the sensation sent waves of warmth through your entire body, making you moan out, your voice just barely above a whisper but full of satisfaction. Your body shuddered, every nerve still singing from the overwhelming release.

Even as you tried to catch your breath, he gave you a few more slow, teasing thrusts, drawing out every last tremor until you were completely undone. Each lingering movement kept you in the moment, his body still pressed firmly against yours, leaving you weak and trembling beneath him.

A satisfied smirk played across his lips as he felt you react, your legs shaking as his hands traveled slowly up your sides, grounding you through the aftershocks. He murmured in your ear, his voice low and full of pride, "You’re so fucking hot when you cum...just like I always imagined" His fingers traced gentle circles along your waist, savoring how soft you felt under his touch.

With a final, breathless sigh, you turned to face him, pressing your forehead to his as he caught his breath, his thumb grazing softly over your cheek.You both stayed like that, basking in the warmth between you, as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, leaving soft kisses along your shoulder and neck, his way of savoring every last moment.

[crooked-wasteland]

I've always seen Helluva boss as a show that try so hard to be something isn't, and after reading your articles about BoJack horseman and how hb directly borrowed some of its ideas . It's started to make sense so here's my take:

Helluva boss can't be BoJack or anti-BoJack , there is room for inspiration sure . But the difference between two shows make it odd whenever someone try to compare them. Since BoJack is story of American man who happened to have a horse head, therefore the protagonist is forced to obey the morality rules that we as audience have . Helluva boss is story of demons live in society that only value violence , the rules of morality is broken in this world so where it makes sense for the show to calls out BoJack's toxic dating patterns, why should i care for blitzø's that man cannonly makes fun of children deaths of cours he's not a good partner. Another thing that BH like other many adults cartoon is critical of American culture (Hollywood culture for BoJack case) and while HB trying to do the same it only water down its world , you can point out to something relatable to our society without loosing the fantasy elements in your world especially if your otherworldly character travel to the human world constantly and see it from stranger point of view, but hb didn't do that it just turned the hell to american , and maybe this is thing bugs only me as non-western . It would be more entertaining if we explore the hellish society as something new and fresh.

(out of topic sorry)

But even if we want BoJack-like show the writer clearly don't know why BoJack works but I don't need to tell you since you already wrote about that, I remember watching a clip of livestream where medrano admit she blind-love her favourite media without critical thinking and I think this is her biggest weakness, she's the kind of person who would see something cool in TV so she applies it to her OCs without a further thinking which explains the directe reference of others show like BH

These are excellent points. There's a saying in writing that goes "Write what you know". The team who wrote Bojack knew the ins and outs of that Hollywood bubble due to professional experiences. And because Bojack was written by a diverse team of creative people, they even addressed how eating meat would work in a universe with sentient animals. They had the experience and knowledge of setting as well as basic life experience to ask obvious questions in the name of world building.

It's why I argue that Medrano appears to be someone with very few life experiences. Not only does her story lack emotional depth, having a shallow well to draw from, but basic rules of world building are neglected in a way that is very obvious due to a lack of human curiosity.

Writing what you know isn't supposed to be limiting. Instead it's supposed to challenge you to ask more questions. Expand what you know to incorporate it into your imagination.

[elliehase-blog]

We're simply meant to be

I just had to write something about them. ❤️💜 This time it's longer than usual, and not proofread (sorry) but if you enjoy this little piece, you can read the rest on AO3.

~*~

In the afternoon, Roman is still quite relaxed. He polishes the blade of his sword, humming verses of Sally’s song. Hey, why not? He is only 51% sure that this is a kind of date tonight. It’s not as if Virgil was in any way clear with his all-but-nothing sentence.

»You're right, Roman. We can live like Jack and Sally if we want to.«

There. The word 'date' has not been used in any form.

Virgil had laughed at this point, to Roman’s utter bewilderment. A delightful little laugh that took up all of his attention and everything else outside had ceased to exist. And of course Roman had not known how to help himself other than to take the whole thing to the next level.

»And sit together, now and forever,« he had said, and had taken Virgil’s hands carefully in his. In this moment, Roman had only felt his heart pounding against his ribs in a whirling drum solo.

After that, Virgil had turned away in embarrassment and mumbled something that sounded like, »See you later.«

So maybe it is a date after all.

Perhaps.

(It’s certainly not.)

For seconds Roman bites his fingernails helplessly. He had seen so many cheesy romance movies in his life that he liked to consider himself an expert in the field. There was nothing to surprise him, as he knew all the signs and all the rules. And if you can no longer rely on cheesy romantic movies, then what?

But somehow all these rules never apply to Virgil.

How did they get here in the first place? Aren't they supposed to argue and fight like in the good old days? Sometimes, Roman likes to picture the deep, passionate rivalry he and Virgil have for each other. He imagines them having endless discussions about Disney characters, staring at each other in a fiery way. And when no one is around, Roman sighs deeply and longingly at this point and buries his heated face in velvety soft red silk pillows.

In the evening, Roman takes a look at his imaginary wardrobe and starts hyperventilating. He’s never had a no-date before. With nobody.

He has no idea what to wear and if he has any piece of clothing that says, 'When you look at me, I can’t breathe, and whenever you’re around me, I talk a lot more nonsense than usual, but if this is a date, I’d be totally fine with it.'

Lately, Virgil had just been too nice and peaceful around him. He means, nice… within the scope of his limited possibilities. Roman can’t say that this is terribly unpleasant, it’s just very… irritating. He has to do something. Or rather, he has to delegate this problem very quickly so that someone else does it for him.

Roman was great at delegating. This talent was practically innate. That's why he calls Logan.

»We have a… situation,« Roman explains dramatically. »I don't know what to wear!«

Logan throws a 'What do you want from me?' look at him. He raises his eyebrows wordlessly and completely unimpressed and makes absolutely no attempt to move even a millimetre from the spot.

»C’mon, Teach, I need your advice here!«

Usually, Logan would not have been his first choice in terms of clothing and taste, but he also has that unclouded and focused sight that Roman needed right now.

»Pleeeaaase!«

Logan sighs and Roman strongly assumes that this is supposed to mean agreement. Probably, Roman had convinced him with his astute argumentation and natural authority. That, or Logan, for once just doesn’t think a discussion is worth the trouble.

»What's the occasion?« he asks without further ado, pushing his glasses up in an unconscious gesture.

»Something… important,« Roman says vaguely.

[reallychaoticwoo]

Ok. It's kind of long but. An ateez Yeosamg x fan reader. They go down to the area of the concert day before to get some pics and hang out with some friends. While hanging out the topic of virginity and squirting came about and the reader is the only one in the group who never had sex or even touched herself so she didn't have an idea what squirting was. She was wearing Yeosangs jersey at the time* and as Yeosang and Seonghwa pass through Yeosang hears the girls conversation and notices the jersey. And interrupts them and asks the reader to follow him not telling her where. Etc. He makes her squirt more than once if you don't mind. And gives her mind blowing oral, regular sex and rough. And creampies her? From there he realizes how sensitive she was so he makes her squirt after creampie and does after care

It's alot😔

⛓️ Honestly I LOVE requests that are detailed that way i know im writing what you want🖤 With that being said i did take the liberty of adding some possessiveness in there as well, i hope you dont mind lol! As always, i hope you enjoy and thank you for your support!⛓️

✨️A Tiny Trainee✨️

❤️Pairing: Yeosang x reader

📝Word count: 6,834

⚠️Warnings: MDNI!! cussing, smut: fingering, squirting, cream pie, unprotected sex (wrap it up buttercup), slight Dom Yeo, subish y/n, dumbification?, multiple orgasms, oral (f receiving), fingering, slightly possessive Yeo, ummm lmk if i missed anything i suck at these🖤

‼️This is purely for entertainment purposes and does not represent the idol(s) in any way‼️

🖤Hope you enjoy!🖤

It was the day before Ateez's concert and you and your friends could not contain your excitement. You all were currently hanging out in the hotel you'd gotten near the arena they'd be performing at so you wouldn't have to worry about traffic before and after the show.

Wanting to make the most of the day one of your best friends, Hana, asked if you guys wanted to go scope out the area and get a better idea of where you'd be spending the majority of your day tomorrow. Of course, you and your other bestie Fae, agreed.

You all get dressed quickly. You decided on your Yeosang jersey, a little black crop top underneath, and a cute pleated white skirt. You paired the outfit with your black converse and pulled your hair up into a simple ponytail. Finally dressed you all make your way out the door and to the arena.

You couldn't lie, the arena looked a bit small from the outside. You knew it wasn't though, considering how many seats had sold for both of days they'd be there. You walked around for a while, noting the enterances and talking about where they'd probably put the lines for tomorrow. You'd passed a small concrete area that seemed like it'd be a great spot for random dance play. Behind the concrete circle there was a small feild where you and your friends agreed there would probably be merch lines. You guys walked around for about an hour before deciding you all wanted to sit down before continuing your quest of mapping out the area like a trio of pirates mapping their next voyage.

Taking a break from your walking, you made your way closer to the entrance of the building where there were a few trees and places to sit. "So, full delusions speaking, but what would you guys do if you got handed a nda for your bias?" Your friend Hana asked. She was always the first to think of the best (and most delusional) case scenario. "Hmm.. Well besides signing it quickly and jumping his bones?" Fae asked, equally as feral and delusional as Hana. "Well obviously. Okay, okay. Let me ask this then, what would you guys WANT to happen if you got a night with your bias?" Hana asked before quickly answering her own question. "Personally, I'd absolutely die if San did a private performance for me. He'd rip the leather strap off his other sleeve before shoving it in my mouth. Obviously he'd have me squirting repeatedly." Hana sighed daydreaming about her answer. Fae giggled at her friend before giving her answer. "I mean.. I bet it would take less than two seconds for Yunho to make me squirt. Between those hands and the fact we all know that man is hung like a horse, I'd gladly scream his name all night. My only want is that he completely destroys me." You laughed at your two extremely feral friends, not really having anything worthy of adding to their complete smutfest.

Hana noticed you weren't really talking and turned to you, "What would you want to happen if you got a night alone with Yeo? I know you're a virgin but you have to have some fantasies." You thought for a moment. "I mean if i'm being honest, I'd like to just get to know him. I dont even know what squirting is... and I'm not entirely sure if i want to seeing as it has you two loosing your minds. He probably wouldn't even want to take someone to his room that didn't know what they were doing anyways. It'd be nice to just talk.. Get to know more about him then whatever the media posts, ya know?"

What you and your friends failed to realize was that Yeosang and Seonghwa just happened to be walking by and had possibly (most definetly) stopped to ease drop on their fans conversation. They hadn't expected you guys to be dicussing all the sexual things your friends would like to do to their members, but couldn't bring themselves to leave as it was just too interesting to pass up. Seonghwa looked to Yeosang when you were talking and nudged his friend playfully. "You heard her, you can't have that sweet little Atiny thinking you wouldn't enjoy her just because she's a virgin." "Well I also can't just take her virginity for shits and giggles Hwa. That's messed up." Yeosang was quick to reply, a look of disapproval painted on his face at his friends words. "So why don't you at least talk to her? She said that'd be her ideal night with you anyways. See where it goes." Yeosang thought it over briefly as you and your friends continued your chat.

"All I'm saying y/n is it wouldn't hurt to just put yourself out there more." Fae said with a sigh. You looked at your friend with defeated eyes. "I know, but it's not really something I take lightly. I'm not going to mess around with just anyone, and I'm absolutely not just handing over my v-card to someone i don't know won't just take it for granted." A muffled cough caught the attention of you and your friends. Quickly turning your head to find the source of the sound, your eyes widened in shock and awe as you spotted Seonghwa and Yeosang standing mere feet away. They walked closer before greeting you and your friends with a polite smile and wave. "Sorry to intrude on your conversation, but my dear friend Yeosang here couldn't help but notice your jersey. We just wanted to stop and say hi to our fans." The taller of the two spoke with a polite smile, but the gleam in his eyes said there was much more to this greeting than he was letting on. Yeosang was desperately trying to hide the blush creeping up to his cheeks as he turned to you. "Hi, I hope we aren't interupting anything.. I just wanted to say hello and ask if you'd maybe be interested in coming with Hwa and me to talk? It's not very often we get to just converse with our fans, and we're not really supposed to be out and about right now."

You looked to your friends before returning your attention to the etheral looking men in front of you. "We'd love that, thank you." You tried to contain your excitment so you wouldn't scare them off but your eyes were practically gleaming in awe as you looked to them. "No offense to your lovely friends, but we were hoping to chat with just you. I hope that's okay? I can get all of you upraded to VIP and into send off as a thank you for lending us your friend for the evening." Seonghwa directed the second half more towards the two girls staring at you eagerly. "We'd love that!! Thank you so much! We will be on our way then. Take good care of our bestie!" Fae and Hana pulled you in for a quick hug whispering in your ear before they pulled away. "We want ALL the details when you get back tonight!! Good luck girl and please for the love of everything have fun!" With that, your two friends were walking away, leaving you with your bias and your bias wrecker. 'Those horny bitches.' You thought to yourself as they disappeared around the building.

"I hope it's okay we stole you away from your friends.." Yeosang said softly as he turned toward you, bringing your attention back to him and Seonghwa. "Honestly, it was perfect timing. They've been hounding me about my uh.. life choices regarding men so it's a nice break. Plus obviously, I'm a huge fan so I'd be dumb to pass up getting to chat with the two of you." You smiled at him and Hwa as you spoke. The taller of the two spared a quick glance at his shorter friend before focusing his attention on you. "About that, I hope I'm not being too forward, but we did happen to overhear some of your conversation. If you had any questions or wanted to try anything we'd be more than happy to... assist." Seonghwa spoke with such effortless tact. His voice like desire itself, and his eyes pure sin. You gulped feeling a bit insecure under the gaze of someone you were positive knew exactly what he liked and what he was doing. Looking to your feet and shifting from one to the other you tried to come up with a reply that wouldn't have you embarrassingyourself further. Thankfully, Yeosang stepped in before you could open your mouth. "Of course we are more than happy to just keep things friendly! My friend here is just a bit... eager to please. Please don't think we would try and pressure you into anything. If I'm being completely honest I'm perfectly happy just getting to know you." You smiled up at him. "We could uh.. see where it goes then. If that's okay?" You prayed he didn't hear the shaking in your voice. "Of course. Now, are you comfortable coming to my hotel room? We really aren't supposed to be out here right now." Yeosang asked, Seonghwa nodded, confirming his younger members words. You smiled at the two before stepping in between them with a bright smile. "Lead the way!"

The three of you made your way back to Yeosang's hotel room with few words. Once you had all made it inside, the two idols made themselves comfortable. Yeosang took a seat on his bed sitting crossed legged; Seonghwa took to the chair at the desk in the corner of the room. "You can sit anywhere you'd like. You don't have to stay standing. We're hoping you'll decide to be here for a while." Yeosang said while gesturing to the bed and the miniture couch that was not too far away in a small sitting area in the room. "Hah, yeah. I guess it would be pretty uncomforable to stay standing." Your nerves were definately getting the best of you. Depsite the rising anxiety of being in such close proximity to the two idols you most certainly had fantasized about, you made your way to the bed, sitting next to Yeosang.

"Well, it's been a while since we've gotten to have an actual conversation with anyone outside of the company, so tell us about yourself." Seonghwa said as he sat forward, elbows resting on his knees. Yeosang turned in his spot to face you as you spoke. "Well, there's not really a lot to tell. I'm in my 20s, I live relatively close by here. I probably have too many hobbies to count.. Umm, I suck at talking about myself.." You started to trail off, embarassment coursing through your body like a tidal wave. "We could ask you questions then if that's okay?" Yeosang offered. "That works for me." You tired to make yourself relax and not seem so tense as you answered their questions.

SH- "I'm gonna ask a couple, so feel free to answer or not answer whatever you want. You said you have a ton of hobbies, can you list a couple of them? Are you more of a homebody or do you like going out? What's your favorite animal?"

Y/N- "Well, I like to draw, dance, sing, crochet, sometimes i make my own jewelry. Basically anything and everything that can be considered artsy or creative. I also read, build legos, have houseplants. I want to think that I like going out but if I'm being completely honest, I really like being at home and reading a good book or doing any of the hobbies I have. And, hmmm, I know it's weird, but my favorite animal is a capuchin monkey. They're insanely smart and funny. But if we're talking your basic house pets though, I don't really have a favorite. I love them all, cats, dogs, bunnies, fish, they're all adorable!"

YS- "That is a lot of hobbies, but it must be really nice having a multitude of creative outlets. I also like reading and plants. Although, I don't really get to have as many plants as i'd like. Do you have any pictures of your plants? I'd love to see them!"

Y/N- " I do! Here let me show you."

It wasn't long before you found yourself more relaxed in their presence. You were now laid back against the headboard of the bed, Yeosang sat next to you but with a modest amount of space between you two. Seonghwa moved closer, now sitting at the foot of the bed criss crossed facing you and his brown haired friend. "I do want to know, why are your friends so adamant about you getting out there more?" Yeosang shot his black haired friend a warning glare at the invasive question. You choked back a shocked gasp and cleared your throat. " They just want me to be happy and think that somehow getting freaky will make that happen." Seonghwa just nodded to himself at your answer, but Yeosang looked up at you curiously. "Why would they think you're unhappy?" His eyes showed genuine concern even though his face remained neutral. "Well, I guess because I'm always the third wheel when we all go out. They both have boyfriends and I don't. Plus I've complained to them before about how I wish I could find someone I felt comfortable enough to be with romantically and intimately. They think i'm holding myself back, but I don't want to feel like i'm settling, ya know?"

The two men nodded at your confession. Naturally Seonghwa was the only one confident enough to speak during the rather heavy moment of silence. "Do you feel comfortable with us?" Yeosang was quick to shut down his older members train of thought. "No offence Hwa, but I don't think that's really appropriate to ask right now." You glanced up at Yeosang then to Seonghwa and back to Yeo. You shakily reached out your hand to the one sitting next to you. To your surprise, he took it. Taking a deep breathe to gather yourself, you replied. "I do feel comfortable with you two BUT.. there's two big problems with that. One, I don't nessecarily want to loose my virginity to two men at once. That seems..uh.. honestly.. really intimidating. And two, I also don't want to have sex with someone i'm never going to see again. I'm not that kind of person. I always thouoght i'd be in a relationship before I ever did that with someone so I don't really know how I feel about that, even if I know the entire fanbase would probably kill me for passing up the two most gorgeous men that have ever walked the earth." Yeosang's blush was bright red and his hand squeezed yours in understanding. Seonghwa, although he tried to hide it, seemed to blush slightly at the compliment as well.

Yeosang looked to the man on the foot of the bed, a silent conversation going on between the two. Before you could apologize for reluctantly turning them down, Yeosang squeezed your hand again and spoke. "Hwa, I'm going to run over to our managers room to see if we can get some food delivered. Will you come with me?" You were suspicious as to why they both needed to go but before you could ask one of them to stay Hwa was already speaking. "Yeah. I'm starving anyways. Pizza sound good y/n?" You nodded, a sweet smile on your face as you leaned back into the pillows. "We'll be right back. Make yourself comfortable!" Yeosang turned to you with a cheeky smile before shutting the door behind them.

"She is considering it, you know. If you weren't so timid you might actually be able to get her to." The eldest spoke as he walked beside Yeosang. "Despite what you may think, that wasn't and still isn't my goal here. She seems like a really sweet girl and we have a lot in common. I was being completely honest when I said i'm more than happy just getting to talk to her." The shorter of the pair replied a bit sharply. "You two do have a lot in common. Like the fact your friends are also tired of hearing you complain about your lack of love." Seonghwa snapped back before letting out a defeated sigh. "Look it's obvious you both are interested in eachother. I don't care if you end up bringing he back to Korea with us if it means you can actually be happy. Just... just don't keep holding yourself back from possible good things." Yeosang just nodded at the eldest's words. He had a point. Yeosang did like you so far. You two have similar intrests, you've been very sweet and polite, albiet a bit timid, during the little bit of time you all talked, and you were stunning. He had to be honest with himself, he's always hoped that one day when he finally got to settle down it'd be with someone like you.

After what seemed like ages, but was really only ten or fifteen minutes, the pair returned to the room. "Pizza should be here in about 30 minutes. I honestly might pass away before it gets here i'm so hungry." Seonghwa whined as he plopped down on the couch nearby. You giggled at his dramatics finding it rather cute compared to his imdimidating seductiveness from earlier. "I think you can make it 30 minutes drama king. Here I was thinking Wooyoung was the most dramatic of you all." You joked. Yeosang choked back a chuckle while making his way to the bed where you still sat, before adding, "Hwa doesn't play about his food. He might actually pass away if it takes too long. But he most definetly can make it 30 minutes." Seonghwa only lazily glared at Yeosang before pulling out his phone to pass the time.

Yeosang scooted further onto the bed so he could make himself comfortable. "Want to watch a movie while we wait?" He asked. You smiled at him nodding your head. "Heck yeah, movie and pizza is my kind of hang out." You giggled, but internally you were cringing at yourself. Yeosang noticed and quickly asked, "What's your favorite movie?" You thought for a second. "That's hard cause there's so many good ones. Have you ever seen The Fifth Element. It's a bit older, but I love it. It's a si-fi movie and there's a scene in it with an opera singer and her voice is absolutely mesmerizing." Yeosang's eyes sparkled at how excited you were telling him about the movie. "I haven't seen it before, let me see if I can find it so we can watch it." You couldn't contain the giddy smile that spread across your face at the fact your bias was eager to watch one of your favorite movies with you. You felt like you were dreaming. "Found it!" He shouted triumphantly as he pulled up the movie on the TV facing the bed. Pressing play, he smiled at you before leaning back into the pillows and making himself more comfortable.

"You know, we could..uh.. would you want to.. maybe come cuddle?" Yeosang asked looking at you out of the corner of his eyes trying to hide the embarassment spreading across his face. You blushed at his question, but scooted yourself up next to him laying your head on his shoulder. Seonghwa, who was still sitting by himself on the couch glanced over at you two cuddled up together and smiled to himself like a proud mother whitnessing her son's first date.

As you two laid side by side, your head on his shoulder, you couldn't help but stare at the man next to you. He was gorgeous, etheral, like something otherworldly. You couldn't bring yourself to fully comprehend how in the world you ended up next to him in his bed watching your favorite movie, but you weren't complaining. Maybe in a different life Yeosang would be the one you gave up your virginity to, the one you trusted to not leave you. Maybe in a different life he could be the one you ended up with. Maybe.

A knock at the door shook you from your thoughts. Seonghwa shot up like lighting from his seat and answered the door. Grabbing the food from their manager, he said thank you before shutting the door and turning around to place the pizza on the table in the sitting area. The gigantic grin on his face at the sight of the food was priceless and had you giggling to yourself. "He really does love food." You said, turning your head to look at Yeosang. He let out a soft giggle himself, his shoulder lightly moving your head as he laughed. You looked at him with such softness his heart skipped a beat. "You know, I felt you staring at me a second ago. Care to share what you were thinking?" He teased. You hummed in consideration. "Oh, you did? Uh.. nothing really. I was just thinking." "Uh huh, I figured as much. Tell me what you were thinking about." You glanced over to the man stuffing his face full, praying he was too engulfed in his gluttonous love affair to be listening. Looking up at Yeosang you sighed. "Okay but please don't make fun of me... I was just thinking about how if things were different and we met on normal terms that this would be a great first date. How if you weren't an idol who will obviously have to leave in a couple days, that we could maybe actually have a chance at becoming something down the road. It's stupid, I know.." Something inside you almost whimpered at the truth that was inevitable, but you were determined to make the most of the time you have now. "I don't think that's stupid at all. And who's to say we couldn't continue to get to know each other?" You wanted to laugh in his face. There's no way he could think that'd be realistic, but the hope in his eyes said he very much did.

The two of you had made your way to the sitting area. Yeosang claiming the spot next to Seonghwa, and you sitting on the floor in between his legs. "You don't have to sit on the floor ya know?" He said looking down at you. You tilted your head back to meet his eyes and asked, "Well where do you suppose I sit then? You two take up the entire couch." He chuckled at your sassiness and reached down to lift you onto his lap. "You could sit here. That way I don't have to feel all lonely." He replied, earning him a punch on the arm from Hwa who stared at him like he just committed the biggest act of betrayal. "I am literally right here. But I'm glad to see you two finally opening up more. It's actually quite adorable." The matching blush that appeared on your faces only proved the eldest's words rang true.

After quickly eating together you all made your way back to the bed to continue the movie. Before pressing play you and Yeosang filled Seonghwa in on what he'd missed while he was impatiently waiting on the pizza. After catching him up, you resumed your movie, and your cuddling. Once again, you found yourself sparing numerous glances at the man beside you. The butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildy at his proximity, at the fact you were still here with him and Seonghwa and it felt so natural. Seonghwa, feeling a bit left out and lonely scooted closer to you hoping he could join in on the cuddles. Unbeknownst to you Yeosang was quick to glare in his direction, a silent declaration to back off. What you did notice though, was how the brunette pulled you closer into him, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on the top of your head. Seonghwa took it for what it was. Yeosang had finally made his decision, even if he wasn't fully aware of it himself. Seonghwa faked a yawn before looking over to the two of you, "Alright you two, I'm gonna head to my room and get ready for bed. Y/n thank you for hanging out and letting me get to know you some. I'll see you tomorrow at the show! G'night Yeo." You said your goodbyes as Seonghwa made his way towards the door. Before he closed the door behind himself he shot his younger member an encouraging wink.

Grabbing your phone for the first time tonight you checked the time, 10pm, and noticed several messages from your friends.

Hana: SOOOO how's it going???

Fae: Girl at least let us know youre alive you can fill us in on the rest later

Hana: I hope your lack of reponce means youre enjoying yourself ;)

The most recent message from a few minutes ago being came from Hana. "Are you coming back tonight or do we need to plan a meet up for tomorrow?'

You looked to Yeosang who quickly noticed the expression on your face. "Your friends message you?" A sigh and a nod, "Yeah they're wondering when i'll be back and it's getting kind of late. I should probably be heading out.." Yeosang's heart quivered at the thought of loosing your company so soon. He wasn't ready for this time together to end, and if he was being honest with himself, he didn't think he'd ever be ready. "You could stay... Ya know, if you want to of course. We haven't even finished the movie and it'd be a shame to have to cut our date short." You glared at him through your lashes, a faint smile spreading across your lips. "Date?" He returned the smile and interlaced his fingers with yours. The simple action sending your heart into a frenzy within your chest. "Yes, date. If you're okay with it being one. I'd like this to be the first of many." You held back your initial reaction to ask him how that would work, how you two would even be able to have more dates. Instead, you squeezed his hand and smiley brightly, your cheeks red and sore from happiness. "I'd love that. Let me text my friends and let them know I'll meet them tomorrow then." He nodded. You quickly typed out a message to your friends, 'Hey, I'm staying the night. I will tell you guys everything tomorrow i promise! We can meet in the lobby in the morning. I'll ttyl!'

Cuddling closely to Yeosang, his arm around you, your head on his chest, your leg draped over his, you felt a pang of want somewhere deep inside you. Deciding to act first for once you looked up at the beautiful man with need in your eyes. "Yeosang..." You whispered softly. He turned his head to look at you, confusion, and something similar to desire swimming in his eyes. "Yes, beautiful?" You couldn't help the immediate blush that dawned on your face. "I...I...I'm comfortable with you.." You couldn't maintain eye contact, looking at his chest as you waited for whatever his response may be. He grinned, softly, sweetly, and lifted your chin so you'd meet his gaze. "Are you absolutely sure?" You gulped, fighting your natural instincts to back out. No. You wanted this, him, it felt right, every single thing about it felt right. "Yes. I'm sure." He nodded and leaned in to take your lips in his own. He pulled back only slightly before he whispered, "Good, I am too."

Before you could so much as question what he meant by that, his lips were crashing against yours yet again. Soft. They were so soft and plush against your own like they had been perfectly made to kiss you and only you. His hand grazed down your side finding its resting place on your hip, his other found purchase at the nape of your neck pulling you closer to him. The smallest of whimpers escaping your lips only to find a home in his. He pulled back to catch his breath, his thumb rubbing gently against your hip. "Lay back for me beautiful. I'll be gentle I promise, and we can stop whenever you want okay?" You nodded as you moved to lay on your back in the center of the bed. Nervousness and excitement washing over you in a melody of increasing desire. Yeosang made his way above you, straddling your hips as he leaned forward to claim another kiss. "Are you okay with me taking off your skirt?" His eyes were soft, caring, and patient. "Y..yes. Please do." You managed to say, already breathless from the rush of emotions you'd long been afraid of letting yourself feel.

Yeosang ever so gently moved his thumbs under the waistband of your skirt. A tingle ran down your spine at the whisper of touch as you lifted your hips enough to let him glide your skirt and underwear down your legs. As the clothing hit the floor he slowly kissed his way up your legs. Placing lingering kisses to each leg slowly moving closer and closer to the place you were now aching most. You absently mindedly spread your legs, a simple but much-appreciated invitation. Two more kisses were placed on the uppermost part of your inner thighs, and Yeosang stopped, hovering right over your needy bud. His eyes met yours, a silent question as if to once again ask if you were sure. The barely audible "Please" that escaped your mouth was all he needed. He placed a soft kiss on your clit before slowly licking it in short precise flicks. The moan that escaped him at the taste of you had your body shuttering beneath him. His kitten licks turned into full-blown laps as he devoured your virgin cunt like it was his last mean. His tongue moving in long lines through your folds before darting inside your walls. You were already lost in pure bliss, a feeling of a spring getting ready to snap slowly building within your core. Yeosang reluctantly pulled himself back so he could insert a finger. Starting slowly, he pumped it in and out at a snail's pace. "Fuuuck.." Your back arched into the feeling as you whimpered beneath his touch. Leaning down to place another gentle kiss on your clit while he slid in a second, then third finger. His pace slowly increased as he found the spongey spot that would have you coming apart for him. Continuing his pace, he moved his thumb to your clit applying gentle pressure as he rubbed in circles. He kissed his way up your body, stopping only long enough to pull your crop top over your breasts so he could kiss them too. He kissed up as his fingers fucked you faster and faster until he kissed your neck and whispered in your ear. "Do you even know how beautiful you sound right now? How fucking good you taste? Fuck... you're going to break me.. and I'm going to let you." His deep whisper echoed through your body like a catalyst that set the spring in your core loose. Your walls clenched down on his fingers as your eyes snapped shut and your world went white. The moan that escaped you was nothing short of sinful, and he only wanted to hear it again and again. As the waves of pleasure and release finally subsided, you opened your eyes, trying to take in your surroundings and bring yourself back to your body.

By the time you were fully past your out-of-body experience, you saw Yeosang at the foot of the bed taking off his soaked clothes. "D..did I.. what was that?" You asked. He only smiled widely as he replied, "You squirted. I can't wait to make you do it again." The tingle that went through your body felt like lightning at his words. You couldn't wait to do it again, for him, because of him, you were far from done. You sat up to remove your jersey and crop top before dropping them to the floor. Yeosang was quick to pick up the jersey though, handing it back to you. "Put this back on, please. I want... I want to see you in it when I finish making you mine." You shivered at his words as you put the jersey back on, leaving it unbuttoned.

Without so much as another word, he was back on top of you, lips against yours, hungry yet patient. His only goal was to make sure you enjoyed yourself. That's what he cared about most, your pleasure. You couldn't help but glance down in between heated kisses, taking him in. He was huge. Way bigger than what you thought he would be, and thick. Your walls clenched around nothing at the thought of him claiming your pussy as his own. Molding your walls to fit him and only him perfectly. As if he could read your thoughts, he smirked and grabbed his generously sized member, sliding it through your slick folds before lining it up with your entrance. You bucked your hips forward, a wordless plea. One that he happily answered as he slowly, painstakingly slowly, inched his way in. He let out a groan as he fully sheathed himself inside."Fuuuckk, you feel so good. So perfect." Your walls clenched around his length as he spoke. He took his time with you, his strokes long, deep, precise. Planting kisses down your neck, your shoulders, your chest, to your perfect tits. You were sensitive but hungry. Finally understanding why your friends would go hardcore feral over their fantasies. You were living a fantasy of your own right now but you wanted, no, needed more. You slid your arms up his back letting your nails gently graze his muscles on their way back down. Again, you repeated the motion but clawed slightly harder. A whine escaped your mouth as you begged for more. "Y- Yeosang p..please.. fuck.. I need more. Please" His soft attentive gaze turned borderline sinister as he grabbed your hips pulled himself out and swiftly flipped you onto your stomach. Lifting your hips so your ass was on full display before spreading your legs and snapping back into you without warning.

You screamed his name at the sudden intrusion, painful pleasure rushing through you causing your toes to curl. He only took that as a sign to continue his torturous snaps, hitting all the right spots, his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. "So fucking perfect for me. You're taking me so fucking well doll, I could stay here all night buried in this perfect little cunt." You practically purred at the praise. His hand snaked around your front to grip your throat pulling you to your knees, your back flush against his chest. He nipped and sucked at your neck as his grip around your throat tightened. Your walls constricted, your eyes shut, your release so eminent. Just as your body started trembling he reached his other hand around to rub small swift circles on your throbbing clit. "Fuck me... you keep choking my dick like that and I'm gonna bust before I can pull out sweetheart." His release threatened to burst as he lost himself in your warm slick sex. "So don't. Cum in me Yeosang... please. I want you to fill me up..already so full want your cum too.. please.." You couldn't help how pathetic your babbling sounded. You needed him, you needed this, so fucking much. His brutal thrust only became more frantic, hitting deeper and deeper, his fingers on your clit matching his thrusts. You arched further into him, legs shaking furiously, your cunt repeatedly tightening around his dick. "F-fuck...i..g'na..ahhh!" Your voice cracked as you reached your peak. Your orgasm hitting you like a hurricane, your eyes shut as you lost your focus, stars swimming around in your eyes. Yeosang pumped only two more times before your orgasm pulled him over the edge and he was burying himself all the way inside you as he spurt hot ropes of cum deep inside your spasming walls.

Yeosang slowly helped lean you forward pulling out as you laid face first against the bed. You combined release coating his dick and leaking out of your spent pussy as he helped you turn to your back. "I can't believe how sensitive you are... making you squirt could get dangerously addictive, doll." You absent-mindedly hummed in response still reveling in the feeling of floating as you slowly came down from your high. He smirked at how fucked out you looked laying on his bed with eyes still hazy and a spent grin across your lips. "I'm gonna go get some things and then start us a shower. I'll be right back beautiful." You blushed at the term of endearment like he hadn't already called you a few like he hadn't just fucked you senseless. "I don't know if it's the post-orgasm brain talking or the fan mentality, but I'd say you're treating me much nicer than you should be considering you'll be leaving in two days."

The look he gave you was nothing short of disappointed, maybe even a bit pissed. "Me leaving soon has nothing to do with what happened tonight. I thought you'd realized that before we had sex, but since you haven't I guess now would be a great time to tell you. Seonghwa left when he did not just because he was tired but because he went to talk to management and the other members for me. I really like you y/n and I absolutely plan on seeing you again so we worked out a couple of options so you could pick whatever you're most comfortable with. You could come back to Korea with me and we can either set you up a room in the dorms or get you your own place. Or you can stay here and I'll pay for your travel to come and visit as often as you'd like so we can continue to see where things go." Your mouth was agape as you blinked your eyes trying to process what he'd just said to you. The tears in your eyes threatened to escape and you looked at the man before you. "Y..you would do that.. for me?" He stepped towards you and lifted your chin until your lips were mere centimeters apart. "Yes. I absolutely would. You don't have to decide right now, but I do hope I get an answer before we have to leave." His lips met yours in a tender kiss before he moved to get the shower started.

Finally in the shower, after some much-needed help from Yeosang, you leaned into the warm water letting it fall over your body. You took a moment to enjoy the way your body relaxed as the water cascaded down. Once you looked at Yeosang, your heart started singing. How could this man cause you to feel like this within mere hours of knowing each other? Sure, you've been a fan for years, but you were sure that what you saw wasn't always who he was. And, it wasn't, it was so much better. "I think, I think I want to come back with you. It'll be a little difficult figuring out what to do about my lease and all my things, but I've always wanted to leave the States anyway. Plus if this goes as well as I think it will I don't want to be asking you to pay for me to come and see you every weekend." He chuckled and wrapped his arms around your waist. "Don't worry about your lease and all of that, I'll get it handled. The only thing left to figure out is if you want to stay in the dorms with me or would you prefer your own place nearby?" You faked being deep in thought for a moment before answering, "Well that depends, don't you think I'd be a little fast-moving to have someone you're not even dating living with you?" It was his turn to pretend to think. "I suppose it would be a little weird but that shouldn't be a problem if you say yes." You shot him a curious look, your eyes narrowing as you asked, "Say yes to what?" He pulled you flush against him, his hands resting on the small of your back. "It's definitely moving fast but I don't care if you don't. I think this could be something really amazing. Will you be my girlfriend?" You kissed him so fast he stumbled a step back before steading the two of you. "Yes!"

OBLIGATORY YEOSANG TAGS: @evis-gossip @yeosangcutie0615

[demigod-shenanigans]

Jason, Piper and Leo trying to play one of these elementary school jump rope games on the Argo 2

I was trying to figure out how to write this as a snippet however it’s been ages since I myself have last done a jump rope game and it turns out I have no idea what I’m doing so I hope it’s okay in headcanon/summary form instead! The good news is that way it’s gonna be a bit longer which I hope will be nice :)

-This is most definitely happening on the way from Camp Half-Blood to New Rome. Everyone’s got a lot of nervous energy and there is so much riding on all this and also Leo and Piper are about to meet Jason’s first family/former friends for the first time and everyone is stressed about it!

-Piper initially suggests it as a way for them to distract themselves and get some excess energy out. Leo is immediately down. Jason is just confused because he’s never done jump rope games before and asks if it’s a training exercise. Piper and Leo just stare at him

-Alternatively, if Jason is just pacing/wanting to be alone for a bit pre getting to New Rome, maybe Leo and Piper are doing it on their own at first (potentially like a Buddy Jumping thing where they both hold one end of the rope and try to jump synchronized. They’re very bad at it) and Jason eventually walks in on this and just stands there being all ????

-I think they have children’s games in New Rome to be clear I just don’t think jump rope is that common (also even if it was, Jason probably wouldn’t remember it due to the whole wiped memories incident combined with him being a child soldier/terminal workaholic)

-Either way, Leo promptly declares it’s his and Piper’s Sacred Duty to teach Jason jump rope games until they get to New Rome to help distract him

-Also for the record they’re not using an actual jump rope. Someone would have had to pack that and no one did. They’re using whatever kind of workshop rope Leo’s tool belt gave them when prompted.

-Piper and Leo swing for a bit and at first they’re really baffled that Jason seems to be way too good at this for someone who’s never done it before, until one of them is like hang on and suddenly notices Jason is just. Floating slightly above the ground so that’s why he has no trouble avoiding the swinging rope

-Jason does not understand what he’s doing wrong since he thought the point was just to avoid the rope. They explain it again and Jason is like “oh okay so it’s like a leg exercise thing I get it now” Leo has his head in his hands going “it’s not a training exercise dude it’s just for fun!”

-Jason is way worse now and also comments at least once that actually this isn’t even fun but he does kind of enjoy it and also just appreciates the distraction (he does totally still think of it as a sort of training exercise but honestly that probably just means he enjoys it more for that reason. Not that he’ll admit that to Leo and Piper tho)

-When Piper and Jason swing the rope for Leo, Leo keeps insisting that Jason use the winds to make the rope go faster because he’s good at this and wants to show off. It does not end well. Piper actually does better than Leo and he is very grumpy about it

-By the end of this whole thing they’re all in a heap on the floor tangled in the rope but they’re also laughing so that was totally worth it

[affableramen]

this idea has been living rent-free in my mind jealous!pantalone early stage of relationship, spy and criminal themes

Jealous!Pantalone was coming up with a plan to expose an evil merchant who had been plotting something big and cruel against Teyvat economy. This particular merchant abused power and destroyed many innocent lives. Yet the mastermind Pantalone is, he created a strategy to take over this nasty man’s plans and finally unveil his dirty business. Yet this whole plan had a big flaw - your involvement.

Pantalone, Tartaglia and Arlecchino were all at his desk while he was explaining the rules of the “game” he plotted against the merchant. At last, you enter the room but, good god—what are you wearing?

“I’ll be the bait.” In extraordinary clothes you shine like a precious diamond, and the glittery makeup makes your rounded eyes the centre of attention.

Arlecchino looks at you with approving and slightly proud look - what a bold move you’ve taken for the sake of Fatui’s secret mission. Tartaglia agreed too:

“She is the only one who can do it”, though his words sounded ambiguous and indefinite, Tartaglia coughed into his fist and explained, “I mean… She kind of seduced you too, Pantalone. I think she can work her charms on another merchant just fine.”

“And besides - it will be nothing more than just shallow flirt.” Arlecchino glared at Tartaglia who just could not shut his mouth in time.

Pantalone stopped writing and almost dropped his pen but gripped it immediately then.

“Absolutely not. We’re not doing it.”

He sounded more gloomy and grumpy than usual, not a hint from the familiar friendly-mannered and charming Harbinger.

Everyone stared at him like if he were an idiot.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Y/N won’t be the bait. I do not allow it, even if it is simply for mission purposes.”

“I will simply talk to the target and look pretty, nothing more nothing less”, you finally said, but that did little to convince Pantalone. He shook his head, the Knave and Childe fell silent.

“Are you jealous?” you crossed your arms.

“No.” Pantalone turned away and continued drawing the plan. “This task is extremely dangerous, I refuse Y/N’s involvement.”

“Yes, he obviously is. If I were him, I would feel jealous too”, said Arlecchino nonchalantly.

“Come on, give her a try, Pants. We don’t really have another choice. There should be a beautiful lady involved in such missions. As if someone would die of it!” He rolled his eyes.

Arlecchino gave you a smirk.

“What are you two blabbering about?!” Pantalone finally exploded. “I won’t let her go—not looking like…this!”

“Looking like…what exactly?” Arlecchino was not happy with his choice of words.

To shift the attention in some way and prevent a conflict you used the red lipstick and rubbed your lips together.

“Then it’s decided.”

This little action made Pantalone bite his own dehydrated lips as the sight of you was so intoxicating.

“Is that enough to charm our target?”

“Too much for some greedy old man.” Pantalone responded earlier than Tartaglia or Arlecchino could open their mouths.

“Relax.” You said to him silently.

“How am I supposed to—when you’re going to work your charms on another man?”

“We need it for a job. We need it to take the damn criminal down.”

Pantalone hit the desk with his fist furiously.

“Fuck the plan, I don’t want to sit and watch you flirt with an old jerk.”

Arlecchino and Tartaglia gave each other a knowing glance and left the room.

“You two decide it between yourselves.”

When everyone left Pantalone grabbed you by your hips and set you on top of his desk and kissed you in the lips passionately.

“Stop—come on—you’ll ruin my makeup!”

He only stopped for a second to look at your face again before proceeding to kiss you more anxious and desperate. After a while he pulled away, breathing heavily, like a pathetic jealous old man he is.

“You may flirt with the target but under one condition”, still gasping for breath profusely he says quietly, his fingers lingering on your shoulders as if he were discreetly trying to hug you.

“What is it, [Pantalone's real name]? What are you afraid of?”

One hand appeared on your cheek and he stroked it gently and affectionately.

“You’re going to seduce me later.”

“You’re unbelievable!” You chuckled under your breath. The audacity and bluntness of this man were insufferable. “But I promise to stay safe and come back to you after this all ends.”

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

❗❗ HEY ❗❗ I SAUR YEW ADD BUCKY BARNES TO YOUR MLIST 🫵🫵🫵 YOU AINT SLICK ❗❗

anywayssss would you be willing to rank your comic book men on least to most willing to kill for their darling? i know we got your opinion on dick but i wanna see how it compares to everyone else

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋…

!!! GN reader, mentions of death/murder, violence, breaking bones, intimidation, threats, manipulation, general mental issues, biochemical attack (how the fuck did we get here), mutilation, self-harm, can be translated as either romantic or platonic.

Help, why did the beginning of this ask trigger my fight or flight for 0.2 seconds, LMAO. I dropped my phone like I was caught red-handed or some shit.

So, I initially made an oath to not answer any more asks until I either finish Life With Older Brother IV or my secret side project, but then I got this ask and figured I could use a little creative break. I’m hitting some brick walls right now with all of my writing projects, sobs.

So!! Here we go. Remember, this is in the order of least to most likely in a general sense. Featuring some new faces because I’m finally confident in depicting their comic book counterparts, yippee!!

Jaime Reyes: Obviously, if the scarab had its way, anyone who poses as a threat to Jaime’s beloved would be neutralized. But we’re talking about Jaime. As long as he’s in full control, he’d probably do everything in his power to not kill anyone, even if it’s for you. He knows he’s fucked in the head. No matter how hard he tries to convince himself it’s still just the scarab preying on his anxieties, it’s getting harder and harder to distinguish Khaji Da’s thoughts from his own. This spiral into insanity around his own morality and guilt would have him cling oh-so desperately to the idea that he’s still a hero. To him, the no-kill role is the only way to know for sure he’s still (kind of) himself.

Bruce Wayne: He’s The Batman. Of course he doesn’t kill. Sure, he may be a bit more violent towards potential threats when it comes to you, but he still doesn’t kill. It’s a core belief that he’ll stick to for as long as evil lurks in the shadows of Gotham. Besides, why would he need to kill when cracking a few ribs gets the message across just fine? Most people don’t even want to fuck with him in the first place; both as Bruce Wayne and especially The Batman. In many cases, simple intimidation will do the trick. It’s much neater than violence. Though violence is definitely still on the table when he’s in a mood (Alfred, for the last time, he does not need a therapist. He’s perfectly functional).

Clark Kent: Whereas Batman doesn’t kill, Superman can’t kill. Meaning, Clark is well aware of the image he has to uphold as the ever-so hopeful Man of Tomorrow. Which is actually fine by him. Due to his strong sense of morals, the thought of blood on his hands makes him sick to his stomach. But there are some cases where that dark voice in the back of his mind whispers he could easily snap the neck of that weirdo talking to you. Of course, this is clearly just a strange intrusive thought, and he guiltily shakes it out of his head the moment it appears. He’s Superman, for heaven’s sake! He’s better than that! Stooping to that level is simply not an option. But you know what is an option? Gripping people hard enough that their bones shatter. Accidents do happen, after all…

Wally West: The chances of him killing are very slim. Believe it or not, he’s not against the idea or anything (only when it comes to you), it’s just he doesn’t see the need to get his hands dirty. There are enough tactics in his arsenal that the thought won’t even cross his mind. A silver tongue can work miracles on its own, and standing at 6 feet tall, Wally can be surprisingly intimidating in his own right. Should there be any threat agains you, he’s more focused on getting you out of harm’s way than beating the shit out of anyone (that comes later, away from your prying eyes). At worst, anyone who pushes their luck will get fractures and road rashes as a result. Killing just isn’t an impulse Wally has. But if it absolutely has to happen… well, wouldn’t that be a shame?

Dick Grayson: As mentioned before in a previous ask, killing is off the table. Dick’s still a hero, and heroes don’t kill. It’s just that he miiiight accidentally lose control if he sees you in a critical state. The ask goes into much deeper detail than this, but to sum it up, he would feel devastated afterwards but eventually justify it to himself. It was to protect you… if he didn’t do it, god only knows what would’ve happened. Otherwise, he’s not one to get his hands dirty like that. The most he’ll do is deliver a very ominous threat that doesn’t outright mean he’s going to kill anyone, but the implications aren’t very pretty. And, if he can help it, he’d rather if you’re not in earshot. Unless if he somehow sees it as a good manipulation tactic. Then sure, you can hear all about how he’s going to drown someone in their own bathroom.

Peter Parker: He has a strong aversion to killing. Now, is that an outright no? As much as he’d like to think so, there are situations where no-kill is optional. Most of them involve you being in active danger. While he doesn’t go out of his way to kill anyone, he sure as hell isn’t thinking about the survivability of his rampage to make sure you’re safe. Causalities would be collateral damage; unfortunate, but possibly necessary. He also has a habit of threatening people’s lives when he’s particularly pissed off. As long as you’re not in some sort of critical state, he usually doesn’t follow through with them (and may even feel guilty afterwards). That being said, hearing your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man deliver a cold one-liner about wanting someone dead is still hella scary.

Steve Rogers: Listen, it’s not at all what he wants. He wouldn’t advocate for murdering your problems away both with or without the shield. But sometimes — just sometimes — it’s necessary. Of course he’d kill someone that posed as a threat to your personal safety. That doesn’t make him a terrible person or anything; most people would do that for their loved ones. Where the line starts to blur, however, is when there isn’t any immediate danger. Does that weirdo who was looking at you for too long count? God— no, Rogers. What is wrong with you?! But… then again, there was this look in their eyes… something’s just so off about them. Ultimately, Steve wouldn’t go through with it, but the thought does cross his mind. Not that he’d ever admit it, of course.

Hal Jordan: The answer is yes, but mostly because he’s a Lantern. Sometimes, neutralizing the threat is necessary. He would absolutely kill if it meant saving your life. Is it ideal? Absolutely not. Is it cathartic?… Lowkey. Hal’s not afraid to abuse his right as a Lantern to “neutralize the threat.” But keep in mind that this is a rare occurrence that depends on his mood. Really, he only considers it for situations you’re extremely distressed by, like some piece of shit giving you the creeps. He wouldn’t kill for his own personal gain, as much as he sometimes wants to; this is all about you, not him. I also don’t really see him having regrets. If he wants someone dead, he absolutely means it.

Remy LeBeau: It’s simple; if he’s gotta do it, he’s gotta do it. He’s got not moral hang-ups when it comes to killing. He doesn’t do it often, but he’s willing to clean up a mess or two if needed. The need to kill ranges from your personal safety to just not liking someone’s vibe. If that were the case, he’d give the poor sucker more than enough hints to leave you alone. Murder would be a last resort should they not listen; which is totally on them, by the way. Gambit can’t help it if they’re not the sharpest tool in the shed. Is kinetically charging someone’s car to explode not enough of a warning or something? Man, what is wrong with people these days…

Tim Drake: Okay. Tim is just so versatile. Yes, he’s absolutely morally opposed to killing. Yes, it’s a necessary evil. Yes, the thought of it makes him want to throw up. Yes, he’d do it in a heartbeat for you. Somehow, all of these thoughts coexist in his sick little head. What makes Tim a threat is the fact he’s extremely unstable. One day, he’s got himself in check; god, he would never kill anyone, why would he do that?! Then the next day, he seems to have a change of heart; if anyone even looks your way, he’s dumping anthrax in their cereal. His preferred method is something clean, but if he’s in a particularly bad mood, he may revert to some mutilation with his nails. On those particularly violent days, he’d much rather harm himself than others, but there is something cathartic about scratching at someone else while sobbing about minute problems. Though that’s one hell of a “did I do that” moment when it’s over.

Scott Summers: Yes. And he’ll fucking do it again, too. When it comes to you, this man has killed people by accident before. Did he give a shit? Absolutely not. Why would he care if someone doesn’t know how to protect their spinal column when taking a blow; especially if it’s someone who dared to lay a hand on you? And, yeah, he’s supposed to be a good role model for mutants all over the globe, but a good leader knows how to take calculated risks when needed. Your safety is his top priority, meaning he’ll do whatever he deems necessary to keep danger away. Man, is it just absolutely brutal watching someone’s skin melt away from the friction of one continuous optic blast. Who knew he could cave in skulls with that shit?

Bucky Barnes: Let’s be honest, is anyone surprised? Yeah, that’s what I thought. You could simply point to someone you hate and they’d be gone within the next 24 hours. Bucky isn’t here to fuck around. While he may regret any kills he was forced to carry out, he sure as hell doesn’t regret the ones he’s actively choosing to do. If anything, his conditioning has left him no other way to show his total devotion to you. Yes, this means you he leaves fresh human hearts at your doorstep. Yes, this means he strings up the remains of your annoying colleagues where you can see them outside. Yes, this means he watches you sleep while caked in blood and guts after every nightly kill. Some small part of him knows it’s wrong, but he really could not give less of a shit. So much for trying to reform him…

[nightlyrequiem]

Basically when Valeria is getting questioned, she mocks Alejandro by bringing up the fact that right after she left the Mexican special forces, she took his girlfriend with her and made her into her wife. (A fem reader request with reader being the ex girlfriend of Alejandro who used to visit the base but ended up up getting charmed by Valeria and is now her wife.)

Oh I love this. Valeria would totally be able to steal his girl. She's just so suave

Might incorporate this idea into a future series. Or maybe just make a part two or something. I live for the drama tbh I want to write more of Alejandro being upset. I don't even hate his character but I've developed a dislike for him because people ship him with Valeria. That sounds a little pathetic though...

Tags/Warnings: Violence, Valeria and Alejandro Scuffle, TF141 Cameo, Reader Is Only mentioned

Under New Ownership

Phillip Graves keeps one firm hand on Valeria's shoulder as he leads her through Alejandro's base. So many memories flaring up at the familiar sights and smells. His touch is agitating her. Heavy, warm, masculine. She shrugs him off as she's sat in an uncomfortable wooden chair. The interrogation room is nothing more than a shipping container. The others join them. Men of Taskforce 141, and Alejandro and Rudolfo. Valeria regrets nothing. Not betraying and turning her back on her brothers in arms, and not all the damage she's done as El Sin Nombre. Valeria Garza is a woman with many achievements under her belt. Why should she apologize for being successful?

"Have a seat." The blond man says. He turns his attention to Alejandro, who is already glowering at her. "So, how do you two know each other?" He asks.

"Know is a strong word." Alejandro responds. Hatred frosting his voice. Just his voice is enough to alight Valeria's nerves with disgust.

"Strong words are important. Our word is our worth, right?" She taunts. using one of his past proverbs against him. That's all it takes to set him off. To send him storming towards her cursing in Spanish. The others are quick to intercept him. Grabbing ahold of him, like an out-of-control dog, Valeria thinks. Should put him down like one. She was always more of a cat person.

"Yeah? Yeah." Alejandro growls, pulling away and reigning in his temper. He turns back to Valeria, drowning her in his distaste. "Go on, tell them."

Valeria leans back and gets comfortable. As comfortable as a person can be while sitting on a hard chair surrounded by hostiles.

"We served together." She explains with boredom. Nothing but unimportant history. Files collecting dust in a backroom kind of history. "Same squads different units. You were the wild ones. Los Vaqueros." She sneers at him. "We had a common... interest."

Alejandro stiffens. It's barely enough to be perceived but Valeria perceives it nonetheless.

"What might that be?" Graves inquires. Raising a light brow. Valeria angles her head towards the man but keeps her gaze locked onto Alejandro's.

"We have... quite the similar taste in women." She remarks. Picturing your soft face. The angle of your eyebrows. The delicate lines of your lips. The column of your throat. Something once belonging to him now under her ownership.

You always used to visit the base. All soft angles and colours amongst the gray and violence. Valeria felt compelled by you the first time she saw you, a rare flower amidst the barren desert. Such a thing would wilt under Alejandro's possession. Valeria made haste in befriending you. An act she knew would grate on Alejandro, but she didn't care. He felt threatened by her.

"Don't bring her into this." Alejandro demands. Jabbing a thick, angry finger at her.

"This lovely little thing used to visit him every week." She continues anyway. "But he wasn't the only one she sought out. She always liked me better."

"Okay, enough of this." Price sighs. Trying to redirect the conversation. In due time. Alejandro scowls and breathes heavily like a bull.

"You poisoned her mind with lies." He says, voice cracking with hurt. "She's a good woman, she wouldn't have left if you hadn't fed her your bullshit about me."

Valeria laughs in his face. Mocking and cruel.

"I didn't have to do anything besides show her attention." She scoffs. "You were always so high-strung and busy because of work. You had something so beautiful within your grasp and you chose your little Vaqueros."

"Lying bitch." He barks. Taking an aggressive step forward. "Are you hurting her? Threatening her?" 

Valeria scowls at the accusation. She's wicked and vile but she'd never hurt you. Not even unintentionally like Alejandro has. "I haven't." She snaps. "She's at home - our home, probably curled up in bed. Maybe she's baking something." Valeria shrugs, putting on a show of casualty. "She loves to cook for me. After a long day I get to return home to a warm meal, not something you can relate to."

Rudolfo shakes his head. This isn't going where they want it to. Time is ticking, much like the three bombs she's sent to Chicago.

"I'm going to kill you." Alejandro promises. Eyes wide with anger. "After they've gotten their use out of you, I'm going to put a fucking bullet through your head, Valeria."

"Alejandro-"

"You're not a very good leader if you couldn't even keep your own girlfriend." Valeria sneers. Goading him on. She's not scared of him at all. She leans against her chair, lips curled into a smirk. "You weren't very good at leading in bed either." She coos. "You won't believe the sounds she makes, I have her screaming my name every fucking night-"

Faster than anyone can react Alejandro is on her. Not holding back as he punches her hard in the jaw. The force sends her and the chair toppling over. Blinding her with pain. Not enough for her to not fight back. She slams her fist into his nose, feeling a spray of blood and hearing a satisfying crunch. 

Valeria's blood is fizzing with adrenaline and excitement. Unfortunately, the fight is cut short as the two are pulled apart. Alejandro left struggling and yelling in the grips of Ghost and Rudolfo.

"You're over." Alejandro hisses viscerally. 'Do you hear me? I'm going to get you. I'm going to fucking get you."

Valeria can feel a bruise forming in her jaw. You'll ask what happened and kiss it better when you see it. Alejandro has no one to worry over his injuries but himself. Valeria wants to keep fighting until only one of them is left standing but that will have to come another day. She rubs her jaw. Another day.

"You hit like a pussy." She growls, angry and wound up. Valeria is forced back into the chair. The time for games is over. Valeria hands over the information they seek with as much contempt as she can produce in her five-foot-six body. A storm is steadily rumbling in the distance. Its growls audible through the walls. An omen of what's to come.

[glisten-inthedark]

Sorry if its too much to ask but im a mileven turning into a byler and i honestly doubt it happening, can you convince me or at least explain so i can understand

Hello, how are you doing?

Ok, so first things first. I won't try and convince you of anything because I genuinely do feel that shipping should be organic, but I'll provide textual evidence and comparisons you can use to guide you.

This got extremely long lmao.

Will Byers was always meant to be canonically homosexual

I think the most important point to start with is this. Will was always meant to be gay, and his queercoding was present from the start. His own father used the f- slur to talk about him, his bullies always attacked his sexuality and even Hopper assumed he was the victim of a hate crime.

So we know that from the very beginning, they wanted him to be gay but his sexuality was never treated as a joke. I think is important to note the difference between internal dialogue and external dialogue when it comes to writing or presenting an idea.

Mike and Will's relationship has been treated differently from the start

Let's assume they were always meant to be viewed as closer friends. This could possibly work if weren't for Dustin and Mike's conversation during season 1 where Mike explicitly tells him that he and Lucas are his best friends. So theoretically, there should be no difference in how their relationships are shown within canon.

It'd be one thing for the three boys to address that Mike and Will are different, is another thing for the story to show and tell us that.

And you might be asking yourself, how do they do that?

Firstly, they do it by singling Mike out. When Will's "body" was found, we see all of their reactions right? But the only person that snaps to someone he was being kind to up until that point is Mike.

Just him.

Lucas says: "It's really him" and Dustin appears to want to cry, but Mike is the one who snaps at El, who tells her she told him Will was alive, and then he asks "What is wrong with you?"

He's the only person we follow home, he's the only one we see breaking down in his mother's arms. He's the only person they really focus on, and this is where I need you to ask yourself why.

I won't give you an answer because I really want you to think about it, but if all these boys are best friends, if all of them collectively care about Will like we know they do, why was Mike singled out for his reaction?

Mike is also the only person, besides Will's own mother, who believes wholeheartedly he is alive. When questioned by Lucas about it, he claims he doesn't have an explanation for the body, but he just "knows" is not him.

Considering that not even Jonathan believed Will was alive - and we all know he loves his brother more than anything - I also ask you to ask yourself why that is.

Why did Mike seemingly "just know" Will was alive when the only person who had that same gut feeling was Will's mother, the person who gave birth to him? No one else did. Not Lucas, not Dustin, not Jonathan.

Just Mike and Joyce.

Again, if these boys have been friends for years at this point, why is Mike's belief system the one that diverges from the others? Why didn't he also keep assuming Will was dead until he heard his voice?

And if all of their friendships were meant to be seen as equal, why did the reveal of the walkie-talkie happen with just Mike there? I mean, all of them cared about Will, so why not have all of them there? Why not show them collectively reacting to it?

During season 2, we again see Mike being singled out when it comes to Will.

Again, Mike himself told Dustin they were all his best friends. That's what was said to us, so is not really about friendship, but rather about the intricacies of caring and of love.

In season 2, Mike says: "He's quiet today" and Lucas says: "He's always quiet" and Mike says something along the lines of "This feels different or this is different". Again, they are showing us that Mike appears to be more in tune with Will.

This proves to be the point whenever Will is having one of his visions and Mike is the one who pulls him out of them. When Will calls Mike during Halloween, Mike mysteriously shows up there almost as if he heard him call.

They also drew a very explicit parallel between Will and Mike and Nancy and Jonathan. When Nancy got through the mini portal, she started calling out to him and he pulled her back. When Will was in that vision state, he called Mike and Mike pulled him out of it.

And just a forewarning, I will make comparisons to Mike and El's relationship but I mean no disrespect to you or your ship. Is just how I perceive things but that doesn't mean you are less valid for seeing things differently and I'll try not to get into deep about how I feel about their relationship.

When El called Mike, he never heard her. He never felt her.

He thought he saw Eleven, but didn't go after her nor did he actively try and find her even when he kept trying to reach her in his walkie-talkie. He never dragged himself to the middle of the woods to find her, he never went against explicit orders from a police officer to go after her.

And then we have a scene that tells us exactly how Mike and Will met.

We face the same conundrum when Mike blows daggers at Dustin for trying to help Will and tells Will "he'd take him home" only to take him to his own house.

When Will explains to him what is happening, he tells him not to tell the others because they wouldn't understand and then he says he feels like he's going crazy and well Mike says they'll go crazy together. And the thing is, the writers could have easily thrown in something innocuous like: "No you're not going crazy", or "This feeling will pass" or not have Will say anything about going crazy at all. The scene would come off as way less romantic and it would still have worked.

And again, we know all of them care about each other, that they'd do anything for each other. But, Mike is the only one of them who is there.

He is standing there, watching his friend be in pain, and he tells him that asking him to be his friend was the best thing he ever done.

So I ask you again, why was Mike singled out. Why was he the only one there from the party?

And let's compare the content of what is said, shall we?

Joyce informs Will of his birthday, and how he gave someone a toy because the person was sad.

Jonathan tells Will about the day their father left and they built Castle Byers together.

All of those moments start to sound really small compared to this monumental thing Mike shares because the thing is. Will is aware that his birthday is March 22 (and so are the writers but I digress), and he knows that he and Jonathan built the castle when Lonnie left.

And he also knows when he and Mike met. What he didn't know, up until that point, is that it meant that much to Mike. Was that, canonically, Mike viewed it as the best choice he ever made.

During season 3, both Lucas and Mike were the source of Will's anger, and yet Mike is the only one who follows Mike out of the basement and he immediately backtracks and tells Will it was a cool campaign.

Now, did at any point Will tell Mike he didn't like girls? Did he, at any point, make passing remarks about not feeling attraction towards them?

Was there any realistic reason for Mike to say the words: "Is not my fault you don't like girls" instead of saying: "Is not my fault you can't get a girlfriend?" or "Is it too bad that I want to spend some time with my girlfriend?" All of these are far more acceptable responses to Will's argument than what he said and yet he went straight for the jugular with no reason whatsoever.

In canon there was no reason for him to assume Will didn't like girls - especially considering he urged Will to dance with a girl a few months prior -. So how the hell did he go from Will should dance with a girl (which implies he didn't assume anything other than Will being straight) to: "Is not my fault you don't like girls?

And we can see he immediately feels sorry, and when Will bikes away he goes out after him without hesitation in the pouring rain to apologize.

Now, another parallel to Mike and El. When they break up everything around them is colorful and bright, Mike doesn't look upset, or heartbroken, he just looks pissed and Max straight up tells El he'll come crawling back and asking for forgiveness in no time.

Does he do it?

No.

But who does he go after immediately after fighting? I don't have to tell you.

Mike had been dating El for a while up to that point, you'd think he'd be upset that she broke up with him, instead, he looked at him like "What the fuck" and kept complaining about it. He looked more guilty about what he said to Will than about the fact he was lying to El.

And by the end of the season, we can see he looks terrified the moment El kisses him and tells him he loves her. He doesn't close his eyes, and he doesn't kiss her back, he just stands there looking utterly lost and confused.

And then they did something that is particularly gut-punching.

They used Heroes by Peter Gabriel again - the same song was used when Will's body was found.

Not only the music was the same, but we saw Mike staring at Will's house with this somber expression and biking away. As he gets home, he holds his mother and if you're thinking that this sounds familiar is because it is. We saw it before: The same exact thing happened when Will's body was found.

Now we have to remember that Mike was losing both El and Will. That both of them are leaving, and yet every single visual and musical cue tells us who Mike is subconsciously thinking about.

They could have chosen any other song, they didn't need to make it look like Mike was about to have a panic attack when El kissed him (and make it look like he was terrified) and they sure as hell didn't have to use the same song they used when Will's body was found and for Mike to hug his mother the same way he did that fateful night.

And I saw someone argue that he looks like that because he realized he loved. If that was the case, why didn't he just say it then? She heard him say it before, and she tells him she loves him too, so not only does that let him know she feels the same, but it should also help with his insecurity about not being sure he feels like that in season 4. And also, she signed all her letters as "Love, El", and he didn't pick up on it? Unlikely.

Not only do we have Finn's acting to rely on, but we also have the script that explicitly states that as El kisses him, Mike feels confused and asks "What is wrong with me?"

And oh my am I rambling, I am so sorry lmao but I still have thoughts™ so I hope you don't mind lmao.

In season 4, we see that Mike has no issue hugging Dustin and that he has no issue maintaining his friendships with his other friends or with talking to El but wouldn't you know it? He hasn't been talking to Will for months.

Then there's the infamous airport awkward af half hug, and Mike casting furtive glances toward Will the entire time (you can rewatch the scene and see it for yourself).

Another important thing to note is that there was no single moment between Mike and El where they were alone if we don't count their argument about him not telling her he loves her.

Every other single moment of the season they share has Will standing there. They force us to feel sorry for him, they force us to confront the fact that Mike and El being together is breaking his heart, and they make us feel even sorrier for a boy who's already been through too much.

They even tell us a few facts while they are it:

Will loves Mike. Mike doesn't make him like a mistake at all, he makes him feel better for being himself. Will pictures himself with Mike by his side forever, and he doesn't think he'll be ever able to move on from him and from how he feels.

He literally Cyrano de Bergerac's the shit out of the situation because he couldn't stand the thought of Mike thinking about himself in that way. He loves Mike so much that he gives up something sacred to him just so that Mike gets to be happy. He rips off the band-aid because he lost all hope, and he has come to accept that he won't get his happy ending.

And there's something even more inherently tragic in what Will does - from an anthropological standpoint that is, because he's not giving Mike just a painting, but a sacred part of himself, of what makes him "him"". He wraps it up with lies, closes it with a beautiful bow, and signs El's name on it. He says what he feels and assigns those feelings to El, but what Mike truly has will always be a part of Will, not a part of El.

We don't even know if and where Mike keeps El's letters, and yet, every single one of Will's drawings was kept safely by Mike.

And finally, we have the final shot of the season.

At first, we see El Mike and Will standing together in the middle. Then we have Jancy and Jopper at their side.

Then El steps away and goes to the front, while Mike and Will stay behind, right in the middle, with the other couples of the show. I have a really hard time believing that was coincidental.

They could have ended the season a million different ways and yet, they didn't.

So again, ask yourself why that is.

There's a lot more I could say, but I feel like I already scared you enough as it is lmao.

I know I'm not giving you all of the answers, but I genuinely believe that the best you can do is analyze the show in its entirety. Is for you to approach with questions instead of preconceived answers. Ask yourself: If they could go this way, why did they go that way?

I hope this helped you in some way, and I also wanted you to remember this is a process. The show was meant to be redigested and reassessed, it was meant to be watched over and over again.

If you pay attention, if you look closely, you'll see small moments of Will and Mike's relationship since season 1. If you pay more attention, they'll become more noticeable as you go.

But if you take a step back, if you start to wonder why Will has to fall in love, if you question why his love had to be implied as unrequited; why at the same time Mike and El never really talk after his supposed love speech, why is this happening at all, that should also tell you a feel things.

I don't know if this helps at all, but I hope it does, somehow.

[vigilskeep]

i am soo fascinated with your rook and viago's relationship and would love to hear more of your thoughts on their dynamic. How long do you think they have known each other? And do you have any ideas how Sol became a crow?

thank you!!

all of the below is a work-in-progress in case the game drops anything startling or i get a new idea for sol, but they’ve known each other basically forever. like, since scrappy little kid sol said very cheerfully “i’ll protect you and you’ll protect me. that’s an allegiance.” and a very skeptical friendless teenager viago said “you mean an alliance?”

house de riva never knew what hit it.

(admittedly taking over house de riva took a couple decades, but hey, viago got there eventually, and neither of them even died. win!)

i think sol had been increasingly unreliable + erratic for several years before the antaam debacle, with viago unable to do anything about it because he apparently canonically can’t express genuine emotions to them face to face or do anything harsher than write them a letter addressed “idiot”. that behaviour might have just been because when viago finally took power, sol was thus in a significantly more stable less dangerous position day to day than they had been accustomed to their whole life, and also no longer had a clear purpose to claw towards, which meant the trauma of everything prior finally landed. or maybe there was some other trigger, i haven’t decided. i’ve been throwing around some elaborate plots to set things off. because i can.

sol’s been with the crows since they were very young. i haven’t settled on an origin story entirely but my brother had a very compelling prompt about them being a fifth blight refugee from the south—they would have been four or five at the time, isn’t that crazy—that i’ve been getting a lot of mileage out of. it adds a lot of flavour to the blight plot and to sol taking up the champion spec, for sure! i came up with something about antiva not accepting refugees off the boats but the crows then coming and offering to give some children a “safe” place (and even compensate the families with a handful of gold for their loss! how altruistic), which feels very real to me as a thedas-esque thing to happen

so sol’s life before the crows doesn’t really mean anything to them—pretty dismissive about their birth family, if you really cared about something you would figure out how to keep hold of it—and they don’t have anyone except viago. these days they know deep down they want out of the crows, but they still couldn’t bear to try cutting ties to the one person they invested two decades of blood into, even if they get very little back from him, emotionally speaking. (please use your WORDS, viago, the NICE ones, everyone with eyes already knows you care.) the world outside is comparatively a big old void they has no connections to, and the crows aren’t the kind of lifestyle that lets you go halfway and visit on weekends. it’s the sort of mindset that might make someone act out in a way that would get most crows killed, then jump on an insane quest of heroism just because some dwarf expressed belief in them while calling them “kid” encouragingly. not that sol’s ever done anything like that!