#i know I've been kind of quiet on socializing here

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: Bruce has a 'if you can't beat them, join them' mentality about the tabloids claiming he adopts too many kids- Developing foster homes that are paid for through the Wayne inheritance, personally vetted by the Bats, they're the leaders in the space for child health outcomes and family placement. Insert Danny.

---

Bruce has too much wealth, too many rumors and not enough reach into the abhorrent foster homes around Gotham to improve them. Tim ends up being the one to suggest it- He's the one who buys up their real estate for their safe houses after all- and Bruce is more than ready to pull the metaphorical trigger to get new clean welcoming spaces, Bat-background checked fosters and a new era of adoption in Gotham underway.

He's lobbied the state and the federal government for reforms of course, but this is a project he can micromanage. He spends time with every kid that comes through, talks with all the families that want to adopt and makes sure that these miniature homes are provided only the very best. Alfred personally hires all the staff, and with Barbara more than happy to help relocate the unhoused children she spots while they patrol, the project is a glowing success.

Occasionally, spots in their houses fill up, and those are the weeks were Cass takes on the Cowl of Batman- Bruce Wayne will personally invite a child in need to his home. He always has one of his kids present (they rotate on a pre-determined schedule) and he does his best to try and get them to understand that they deserve the world, have all the potential that anyone else has and can achieve a bright future. That he will personally aid them in their ambitions.

PR goes crazy for it of course, but Bruce and all of his children know its genuine. Almost too genuine, because a betting pool 'WILL THEY BE ADOPTED' regularly circulates between the siblings and the entire JL when someone spends time at the manor. And not just the black-haired, Blue-eyed kids get picked as favored outcomes- but obviously the running joke gets passed around.

It's a Thursday night when Bruce gets the call that the houses have once again filled up, and that there is a child in need of a home. The social worker (he knows her as Marsha and he has flowers planned to be sent on her birthday next week, like he does for all of his employees) (Say micromanaged one more time) explains that the kid is a bit cagey but has opened up with some humor. She explains that he has a few strange... mannerisms. She's not sure what to make of him, a non-gothamite for sure but something is, well, distinctly 'not from around here' about his energy.

Danny arrives at the house, meets Duke and Alfred, and by the time Bruce meets him at the dinner table it seems as though Marsha had it all wrong. This kid was laughing, he was teasing, he was totally playing along like he'd gone through nothing. Bruce is glad he's in high spirits but its just so... so different from all the other children he's taken in.

Bruce re-focuses on the conversation when Duke mentions something flashing, and its the first time that Danny goes quiet. Entirely still.

"...you noticed that?" Danny quietly asks, a bit of disbelief in his tone.

"You don't have a flashlight on or something do you? It was super bright whatever it is that you had in your hand a second ago?" Duke tries to sound chill but he's looking very much not chill. Bruce saw nothing, and that puts him further on edge.

"Look... I uh, I've been though... I've been through a lot lately. And the last lab I was in kind of, messed with me. I'm normally much better at dealing with it all, I promise." Danny sounds nervous, and the room seems to chill.

"Ah shoot, sorry." Danny notices something and frantically apologizes.

"Sorry for what Danny? You've done nothing wrong but I am worried about you- You said you were in a lab?" Bruce is desperately trying to calm him down while not slipping into Batman interrogation mode.

"Uh, yeah, like a lot of labs. It should get warmer in a second, its just cause I startled, I promise."

"You're a meta." Duke speaks softly and with hope in his voice- Danny is looking between them with wide eyes filled with fear.

"I mean I don't technically have the gene-"

"Danny, have you told any of your case workers where you were? Do any authorities know what you've been through?" Bruce needs to know, desperately, that who ever gave this young boy super powers is brought to justice. Danny goes quiet.

"I'm really sorry." He says softly, but he doesn't leave them.

Duke and Bruce try to ask a few more questions but the silence that meets them declares the conversation over, even with Duke admitting he himself is a meta. Danny didn't even look up from his plate. They watch a movie after dinner, and Danny seems to get back to the smile-y happy guy he had been before dinner.

Each of the bat-fam have their own interactions with Danny- And even if they're getting along amazingly, Danny won't open up. He doesn't open up to his provided therapist. Doesn't talk to Alfred. No one knows what's up.

So when Marsha calls Bruce back explaining they now have a spot for Danny and he can move out of the Manor... Bruce replies that he'd like to get started on Adoption paperwork, so long as Danny is fine with it.

---

Turns out, Danny is fine with it. he's both the newest Wayne and their newest case. (And godamnit, his new family is going to avenge him. If only he'd let them try.)

Danny figures out that Duke= Signal early on because of that dinner, and if he's going to keep his parents out of jail, he needs to be as close to the investigation as possible. He knows that he shouldn't protect the Fentons, but he feels the upset in his core at the thought of letting them befall any harm. He has to protect them. Has to protect Jazz and her hiding spot as a mole within their lab. Has to.

Even if it meant lying to his new family who loves him, and who he loves in equal return. Even if it means lying to The Bats.

---

Tabloids go crazy about the black-haired blue-eyed thing of course, but no poll was ever taken by the batfam or the JL who know the whole story.

[orcusnoir]

"You know what I hate?" The Champion asked to no one in particular as he watched over the slow boiling pot of stew.

"Uh... Not having enough spices?" The Captain asked from his seat at the table.

Wild gave a nod. "Not what I was going for, but yes."

"Then what do you hate, Champ?" Wars asked while glancing over to the Vet. Legend was currently trying to stack his fork and knife on top of each other to no avail.

"How do I put this?" Wild tapped his chin in thought.

"As bluntly as you can." Hyrule chimed in.

"Fair enough. Why are certain clothes locked to certain people? It's fucking cloth." Wild complained with a laugh.

At first Wars was going to chide Wild for the language, but... He just couldn't. Wild had a point here.

"FINALLY!" Wind's loud voice startled Wars a bit as the Sailor had been awfully quiet in his seat. "Tetra and I both hate that stupid shit. What do you mean I can't wear heels? I'm trying to feel tall, and Tetra hates heels, and so somebody has to wear them."

"Tell me about it." Wild started. "Zelda let me try on one of her old royal dresses, don't ask how they survived a hundred years, and somebody had issues with that."

The Captain just laughed. Damn those social rules indeed. Wild in a dress wasn't something he was expecting to hear about today, but it was something that he could picture.

And the Champion would rock that dress.

"Heh, I've been thinking those rules were stupid since I knew they existed. So, since I was nine." Time joined the conversation. "I didn't even know what the big deal was back then."

"I'd ask how, but I'm afraid the answer would be too confusing." Twilight said.

"Oh, not at all, I was raised by forest spirits and a giant tree." The Old Man nonchalantly explained. "They didn't have concepts like "male" and "female." So imagine my confusion."

A claim that he made often but never elaborated on. Everyone, besides the Captain and Wind, thought it was a lie or a ruse.

Warriors just laughed, he couldn't help it.

"Oh little Mask and his insisting that he's a tree." Wars felt everyone's eyes turn to him.

Time laughed loudly. "You made that corporals life hell."

"I did not have time for that guy's bullshit. We are in the middle of a fucking war, if the kid says he's a tree then he's a fucking tree." Wars started to lose his composure from all of his laughing.

"What do you mean by "he's a tree"?" Sky asked while scratching his head.

"Again, I was raised by forest spirits." Time explain. "You lot, besides two, think this a lie. It's not."

"Time, your life profoundly confuses me." Sky said. "So they assigned you a tree?"

Time nodded.

"Instead of anything else?"

Another nod.

"Not like a boy tree? Just a tree?"

Another nod. "Two trees, to be exact. But yes."

"Two trees?"

"Maple and oak, to be exact."

Wars just watch the conversation with a grin. Oh, poor Sky. He must be feeling the same confusion that he and the Sailor had during the war.

"I feel so understood." Rulie said with the widest smile imaginable. "I'm just a Fae." He shrugged as the others turned to face him. "Not the legend kind of Fae. I was raised by Fairies."

"Well, now you can be a Fae tree. How lovely." Time stated with a laugh.

"What kinda tree?"

"Hmmm, you and the Captain both have the same one. Pine, and you can have maple too. As a treat."

"A Fae pine and maple tree. Nice."

"Are we just gonna brush over the fact that Wars already has a tree identity?" Legend asked.

"I do too!" Wind but in. "Take a guess, it's so obvious."

"Uh...Palm tree?" Twilight asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Correct!"

"What tree am I then?" Wild asked while seasoning a few cuts of meat.

"Willow." Time and Warriors both spoke at the same time.

"Damn, that was fast."

"You had this conversation before, hadn't you?" Sky asked while keeping his gaze locked to Wars. "So tell us our trees."

"Oh, alright, I'll try to remember all the specifics. It's been a while." Time laughed while tapping his fingers on the table.

"It all reminds me of the Minish. They have leaves instead of trees, though." Four, who had been quietly observing this whole time, finally spoke up.

"Oh, the Kokiri had leaves too. That's a whole other thing."

[madlori]

Sometimes the delulu IS the solulu.

After some thought, and reading a lot of really insightful thoughts here and on Discord, I think I've reached a conclusion.

I'm going full tinhat. Not in an unhinged way, though.

I don't think this is the end.

I'm not going to count on it. I'm barely going to hope for it. But I am going to...keep an eye out for it.

The one common refrain we've heard from each other is that this did not feel like a permanent breakup. It felt so obviously and blatantly like a setup for Buck to fight for the relationship. It was that "one partner freaks out a bit and the other has to show their commitment" relationship hurdle which is so common it's a trope. In fact, most of us assumed that's just what it was...until those interviews

Now, I do not put Tim Minear up on some kind of pedestal of writerly greatness - far from it. And he did not write this episode, but the plotlines all go through him.

BUT.

He has always been very attached to Tommy as a character and to this relationship. He loves it. He loved red string theory so much that he wrote it into this episode. And I'm about halfway convinced he's in love with Lou but that's beside the point. (I mean, we get it, Tim.)

Tommy's what he always said he wanted to get for Buck. Firefighter, integrated into the 118, yadda yadda, we've been over this a lot. Someone he chooses, someone he works to build something with. Someone who shows up for him. He had Buck SAY in this episode that he'd never felt like this since Abby.

The thread of Tommy wanting a found family like Buck's. The intense settled/caregiving vibe of 8x05. It all felt so...purposeful. And yes, I agree that this could have been done just to punch up the angst for Buck when it ends. But that's not the only explanation.

The many, many comments of wanting to move Buck along in his personal life. Oliver wanting to do settled, domestic storylines with him. Giving Tommy the big hero romcom entrance in that hospital.

And what now? Cycle Buck through another love interest? It's hard to imagine recapturing what he had with Tommy with anybody else, or for the GA to embrace it as much as they did. What little we can see of the GA reaction (because the official socials are weirdly quiet and have not posted) is that they're not happy about this. Tim knows this.

I can buy Tim making some dumb writing decisions but he's not stupid. I find it very hard to swallow that he'd voluntarily toss away all this, and this potential, and what they'd already established, and a pairing/character/actor he loves, for what? For nothing.

So I think that it's not for nothing.

I think the plan IS to reunite them...

...they just don't know when, or how.

For some reason he wants to give it a break for awhile. I don't know why. There could be off-camera reasons. But I think it happened recently. Two weeks ago we got interviews talking about hurdles being overcome, relationships deepening, etc etc. It's a great episode for them, came out of Oliver's mouth. Not important, not consequential - great. And hey, what happened to that very important Bobby conversation where he gave Buck important advice? It wasn't there.

I think a change was made in the last two weeks. And yes, I know the loft stills were dated 9/17.

Two weeks is plenty of time to reshoot one scene, between when those interviews came out and last night. The stills could be from the first time it was shot, in September. Put the guys in the same wardrobe, we'd never know the difference, or that those stills weren't from the scene we actually saw.

OR

The scene was always the one we saw, but was always meant to be temporary, and the change was in how they talked about it in the interviews from last night. That is a simpler explanation, as it doesn't involve reshoots, but it doesn't explain those very incongruous interviews we got two weeks ago that do not match the scene we saw. Now, they have always vagued it up, and talked around things in interviews, but this was an entirely new level of misdirection and outright lying that isn't typical.

I'm really tinhatting it up now, but hey, what have I got to lose? I'm not investing anything in this. It's just...a thought.

If you think the network interfered (I don't, at least not for plot-related reasons, see below) or Oliver demanded the relationship be cut (I don't - I know lots of you are mad at him but I'm not), whatever it was...I just get a vibe. It could be as simple as money. It could be a ratings thing. Honestly? It could be that they've found out they're getting cancelled, and were ordered to cut bait on guest stars. They could be kicking the can down the road to goose ratings for spring when they do bring it back. There are lots of reasons I can think of and probably more that I can't.

I read a thoughtful and reasonable post about how it was more or less a mercy killing to post those interviews - most showrunners like to keep viewers guessing and coming back, so for them to say definitely BT was dead meant it's really, really dead (although how definitive they actually were is another question).

They might be right about that. I don't know.

Or they just might not know themselves. Even if the plan IS to reunite them eventually - if they don't have a plan for how or when, the safest course is to shut it down. No guarantees they can make it work, so play it safe. Oliver and Lou might not be looped in on this.

It's pretty thin. They probably would be, although we have ample evidence of actors not knowing stuff until the last minute. The other option is that they are looped in and are intentionally lying but I think that's very unlikely - although Lou has demonstrated a keen skill in keeping his mouth shut when necessary.

I'm not going to get nuts about this and neither should anybody else. I'm not going to be scouring socials or the internet looking for support or clues. I'm not going to be holding my breath waiting for a sign.

The only thing I'll keep an eye on is how they handle any flirtation or dating Buck does in the near future. How they handle it might be telling.

This is ALL very unlikely, let's be real.

I'm still tinhatting, though. Why not? What have we got to lose?

But if I'm right, I expect that red dodgeball in my inbox toot sweet.

(And Buddie still isn't going canon, btw.)

[missarchive]

bed chem 𐙚

elle greenaway

fem!reader

cw; +18 minors dni, kind of dom!reader, multiple orgasms, fingering & oral (elle receiving), tribbing, fade to black smut

wc; around 3k

an; i've been meaning to write for elle for a while and finally got around to it. dt to my lovely @reidsstargirl thank you for being my little proof reader <3

The conference room was silent except for the soft hum of the projector. Crime scene photos flashed on the screen, each more unsettling than the last. Victims frozen in snapshots of terror and tragedy. Couples, always women, always the same methodical precision to their deaths.

Hotch stood at the head of the table, arms crossed. “This unsub is methodical, patient. He takes his time earning the trust of his victims before he strikes. What we know is this: he targets lesbian couples in rural areas. He chooses women who are isolated, who he believes won’t be missed right away.”

The room was heavy with tension. You felt the weight of the case pressing against your chest. The details were chilling, but what made it worse was the pattern. He was escalating, and the longer it took to catch him, the more women would die.

“Given his methods, we believe the only way to stop him is to draw him out,” Hotch continued. His sharp gaze swept over the team. “We need to create a scenario that fits his profile—a couple he can fixate on.”

Your stomach flipped as the implication settled over the room. Before anyone could speak, Elle leaned forward in her chair.

“You’re asking us to go undercover,” she said, her voice steady.

Hotch nodded. “Yes. It’s our best chance to lure him out. He studies his victims carefully. He’ll be watching for any cracks in the facade, so whoever takes this role will need to sell it completely.”

The room was silent for a moment before Elle spoke again, her tone decisive. “I’ll do it.”

You hesitated for half a second before following her lead. “I’ll do it too.”

Hotch’s gaze softened slightly, his approval evident. “Good. Garcia will handle the backstory and setup. You’ll be moving into a rental property in a small town where the unsub has been active. The rest of us will be nearby, but once you’re in position, you’ll be on your own.”

Elle turned to you with a faint smirk as the meeting ended. “Guess we’re partners now.”

“Looks like it,” you replied, trying to ignore the knot of nerves in your stomach.

The rental house was small but cozy, nestled on a quiet street with neighbours who barely glanced your way as you unloaded your bags. It had all the makings of a perfect trap. Garcia had created a backstory that was seamless: photoshopped couple’s photos, social media accounts filled with playful banter, and a fabricated history of moving here for a “fresh start.”

Inside, Elle surveyed the living room, her hands on her hips. “Garcia really thought of everything,” she muttered, gesturing to the picture frames on the mantel. Each one showed the two of you in carefully staged moments—smiling on a picnic, laughing on a couch, holding hands in the park.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “She’s thorough, I’ll give her that.”

Elle glanced at you, her expression softening. “We’re going to need to lean into this. If the unsub’s watching, we have to make this believable.”

“I know,” you said, meeting her gaze. “But let’s be clear—this is just for the case.”

“Obviously,” Elle replied, but something in her tone felt less certain.

The bar was dimly lit, filled with the soft murmur of conversation and the clinking of glasses. You and Elle slid into a booth near the back, her hand resting lightly on your arm as you both scanned the room.

“We need to act natural,” she murmured, her lips barely moving as she leaned closer. “What do couples do on dates?”

You smirked, trying to ignore the warmth of her breath against your cheek. “Hold hands, flirt, make each other laugh. Think you can handle that?”

Elle raised a brow, her lips twitching into a small smile. “Watch and learn.”

She laced her fingers with yours, her touch both firm and surprisingly gentle. You felt a jolt of electricity at the contact but forced yourself to focus. Across the room, Morgan and Reid were stationed inconspicuously, their eyes occasionally darting your way.

Elle leaned closer, her voice low. “Smile. You look like you’re about to get audited.”

You laughed softly, her teasing easing some of the tension. “I didn’t realise you were such a comedian.”

“You’d be surprised,” she replied, her eyes meeting yours. For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade.

The unsub appeared not long after—a man who blended seamlessly into the crowd but whose eyes lingered on you and Elle just a moment too long.

“He’s here,” Elle murmured, her hand tightening around yours.

The unsub didn’t approach right away. He watched from the bar, nursing a drink and pretending not to stare. You and Elle had to play your roles perfectly, every glance, every touch calculated but natural.

Elle leaned into you, her lips brushing your ear as she whispered, “He’s watching us. We need to turn it up.”

Your heart pounded as you nodded, your breath hitching slightly when she placed a hand on your thigh. It was nothing overt, but the intimacy of the gesture sent a shiver down your spine.

“Relax,” she said softly, her eyes meeting yours. “Just follow my lead.”

You forced yourself to smile, leaning in closer until your foreheads nearly touched. “You’re enjoying this too much,” you teased, trying to keep the mood light.

Elle’s lips curled into a smirk. “Maybe a little.”

Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she tilted her head and kissed you. It wasn’t a quick peck or a hesitant brush of lips—it was slow, deliberate, and entirely convincing.

Your heart raced as you kissed her back, the line between acting and reality blurring with every passing second. When she pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, but her composure remained intact.

“He’s biting,” she murmured, her voice steady despite the tension crackling between you.

The unsub finally made his move, approaching your table with a disarming smile. His presence was unsettling, but you and Elle maintained your facade, playing the part of a happy couple caught off guard by a friendly stranger.

Every word, every glance, every touch was a calculated move, a delicate dance to keep the unsub engaged while the rest of the team moved into position.

By the time Morgan and Reid swooped in to make the arrest, your heart was racing for reasons that had little to do with the danger and everything to do with the woman sitting next to you.

The motel room was small and unassuming, its decor an uninspired mix of beige and muted floral patterns. The adrenaline of the night had begun to fade, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion that made your limbs feel like lead. You sat on the edge of the bed, staring at your reflection in the darkened screen of the television.

Your mind raced, replaying the events of the evening: the way Elle had touched your hand, her voice low and warm in your ear as she coached you through the act. And that kiss—God, that kiss. It was supposed to be for the case, to sell the ruse, but the way her lips moved against yours felt too natural, too genuine to be just acting.

You shook your head, trying to dismiss the thought. It was the job, you told yourself. Nothing more.

A knock at the door pulled you from your spiraling thoughts. You hesitated, staring at it as if it might open on its own. Another knock, firmer this time, broke your paralysis.

When you opened the door, Elle stood there, barefoot and dressed in an oversized FBI sweatshirt and loose sweatpants. The harsh glow of the hallway light cast soft shadows across her face, making her look younger, more vulnerable.

“Elle?” you asked, your voice rough from hours of silence.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted, her tone soft but edged with something unreadable. “Can I come in?”

You nodded, stepping aside to let her pass. She walked into the room, her movements slower, more deliberate than usual.

She stopped in the center of the room, crossing her arms over her chest as if to shield herself. “I just... needed to talk,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You closed the door behind her, leaning against it. “About the case?”

Elle turned to face you, her eyes meeting yours. For the first time all night, her composure cracked. “No. Not about the case. About us.”

The weight of her words settled between you, thick and heavy. You pushed off the door, moving closer but keeping a cautious distance. “Elle, I—”

She held up a hand, cutting you off. “Let me finish.” She took a deep breath, her hands dropping to her sides. “Tonight… that kiss… it wasn’t just for the case. At least, not for me.”

Your heart skipped a beat, her words catching you off guard. “What do you mean?”

Elle took a step closer, her eyes searching yours. “I don’t know when it started. Maybe it was tonight, maybe it was before, but being with you... pretending to be something we’re not...” She paused, her voice trembling slightly. “It didn’t feel like pretending.”

The air between you crackled with unspoken tension. You wanted to say something, to reassure her, but words failed you.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” she continued, her voice stronger now. “And I know it’s complicated. We’re colleagues, we’re supposed to keep things professional, but I can’t ignore this anymore.”

You took a step closer, closing the distance between you until you were standing inches apart. Her eyes flicked to your lips, and you felt your resolve slipping.

“Elle,” you said softly, your voice barely audible. “I felt it too.”

Her breath hitched, and in that moment, the tension that had been building for weeks, maybe months, finally snapped. She reached for you, her hands tentative at first as they settled on your shoulders. You leaned into her touch, your arms wrapping around her waist as her fingers slipped up the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

Her lips were soft against yours, warm and inviting. It felt like coming home, like this was where you belonged. Her tongue darted out, running over the seam of your lips before dipping inside, meeting yours in a sweet kiss.

You deepened the kiss, pulling her closer, feeling the press of her breasts against yours. Her hands slid down your back, pulling you into her as her leg lifted, brushing against your thigh. You felt your pulse quicken, the heat between you building as her lips parted beneath yours.

You broke the kiss, needing air, needing to focus on her, to commit every detail to memory. Her cheeks were flushed pink, her hair a little mussed from your touch. Your eyes drifted down to her breasts, the curves pushing out against the fabric of her bra.

You moved closer, dropping a trail of kisses down her neck as she arched into your touch. You felt her shiver, her fingers digging into your shoulders. Her breath came in short gasps, her body moving against yours.

You caught the edge of her bra between your fingers, pushing it down to reveal her breasts. They were even more beautiful than you imagined, soft and round. Your mouth settled over one peaked nipple, and her hands cupped the back of your head, encouraging you as your tongue circled around her skin.

She tasted sweet, like cherries and honey. Her nipple pebbled beneath your touch, and you sucked it into your mouth, eliciting a soft moan from her lips.

You let out a soft laugh, smiling against her breast. She was so responsive, like her body was made for this, for you.

You trailed your fingers down her stomach, feeling her skin quiver beneath your touch. Her hips jerked, and you chuckled again, loving the way she reacted to your every move.

Your hand slipped beneath her panties, cupping the curve of her ass as you nipped at her breast. Your other hand joined in, sliding over her pussy as you rubbed your thumb over her clit. She gasped, her body jerking beneath your touch.

You felt your own arousal build, your panties growing wet as you imagined the possibilities. Elle was more than you ever could’ve asked for, more than you deserved.

But you were taking it, taking her, taking this moment to make it yours.

Your fingers slipped inside her, feeling her pussy stretch around you as you pumped in and out, your thumb still rubbing circles over her clit.

Her legs started to shake, and you could feel her pussy tightening around your fingers. “Fuck,” she moaned, her nails digging into your shoulder. “Y/N, fuck.”

The feeling of your name on her lips was the hottest thing you’d ever heard. You fucked her harder, feeling her pulse beneath your fingertips. She felt so good, so wet and tight.

Her muscles clenched, and her pussy contracted around your fingers as she came. “Fuck!” she screamed, her hips jerking as she rode out her orgasm. Your fingers stilled inside her, your thumb slowing to a gentle pet before slipping away completely.

You pulled back, giving her a moment to catch her breath before you dropped to your knees in front of her. You hooked a finger around the waistband of her panties, tugging them down over her hips, her thighs, leaving them bunched around her ankles.

Her pussy was even more beautiful than you’d imagined, pink and swollen and dripping wet. You ran your thumb along the slit, feeling your pulse quicken as you dipped it inside.

She let out a little mewl, her hand tangling in your hair. You took it as a good sign and leaned forward, running your tongue along the wet line of her pussy.

She tasted so fucking good, sweet like candy and sharp like citrus. Your mouth moved over her, licking and sucking as you devoured every inch of her. Her hands tightened in your hair, pushing you closer until your nose was buried between her thighs.

She smelled like vanilla and coconut. It made your mouth water, made you want more.

You licked harder, moving in short quick strokes as your tongue flicked over her clit. Her body jerked with every touch, her muscles tensing as she neared her climax.

Your fingers moved, joining your tongue as you fingered her hard.

She came fast, her pussy pulsing around your fingers and tongue as she screamed your name. You let her come down from her high before pulling back, your mouth moving in one last swipe before you stood.

You were covered in her arousal, but you didn’t care. Elle’s eyes were hazy, her cheeks flushed pink as she gazed up at you.

“Y/N,” she said softly.

You didn’t need her to finish the sentence. You knew exactly what she wanted, because you wanted it too.

You stripped her down, removing her dress and bra until she stood before you completely naked. It was a sight you’d never get tired of, all smooth curves and long legs that were just begging to be tangled with yours.

You took your time undressing yourself, teasing her with every movement. Her hands came up, her fingers tracing over the curves of your breasts as you pushed them free from your bra. You dropped the fabric to the floor and stood before her, letting her touch wherever she wanted.

Your body was warm from your exertions, flushed pink and trembling with desire. Elle’s hands roamed over you, feeling your every contour.

You leaned into her touch, wanting it to last forever. Her fingers teased over your nipples, and you bit back a moan.

“I want you,” she whispered, her voice low and raspy.

You didn’t know if she meant she wanted to fuck you or be with you, and for now, you didn’t care because you wanted it all.

You kissed her again, your tongue tangling with hers as you stumbled toward the bed. You fell in a tangled mess of limbs and sheets, laughing and kissing as you fought for dominance.

You pinned her beneath you, your hips settling between her legs. You ground down, rubbing your pussy against hers as you kissed her neck.

“You're so beautiful, Elle,” you groaned, your body already starting to build.

You rubbed faster, your clit aching for friction. Elle’s mouth latched onto your neck, sucking and biting as you rocked over her. You felt her lips wrap around your nipple, sucking it into her mouth, and your vision started to blur.

Your hips moved on their own accord, grinding faster and harder. You were getting close, too close, and you didn’t want it to end.

Elle let out a soft gasp, her hips starting to jerk with her own orgasm. Her mouth found yours again, her tongue dipping inside as you came.

It was like the entire world had exploded in a wave of heat and colour. You couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything but Elle and the way her pussy felt against yours.

You rode out your climax, feeling her come against you as well. The feeling of her pulsing against you was almost too much, and you couldn’t help the soft cry that escaped your lips as another orgasm hit you.

You came in waves, clenching and releasing as Elle ground down against you.

You collapsed on top of her, your body trembling with aftershocks as your breathing slowly returned to normal.

Elle’s fingers traced over your spine, petting and soothing you as she held you close. It was comfortable and intimate and everything you wanted from her.

“Y/N?” she murmured softly.

“Stay here tonight?”

You lifted your head, gazing down at her. Her hair was mussed, her face still flushed pink from their exertions. “I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.”

You settled back against her, holding her close as your bodies intertwined. For tonight at least, you’d have her, and that was all that mattered. The rest could wait until tomorrow.

[supernova-stardust]

Bad Idea, Right?

jegulus | explicit minors dni | complete | word count: 9,351

direct sequel to "no one has to know what we do" on ao3

James has waited for months to hear from Regulus since he gave him his number after they hooked up in the ballet studio. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about him. So when he's out with his best friend, Peter, and receives a text from an unknown number, he instantly needs to know if that number belongs to Regulus. He's had a few drinks and before he knows it, he's knocking on Regulus' door begging to go inside.

OR

James Potter is whipped.

***

Based on Bad Idea, Right? by Olivia Rodrigo

Full fic after the break or on ao3

James wasn't sure what he was thinking when Peter had asked him to go out for drinks and he had agreed. Really, he never said yes to going out, let alone to this bar—The Leaky Cauldron—full of shitty IPAs and even shittier music. But here he was, drinking an IPA that tasted more like piss than beer and watching as Peter tried his best to flirt with his third woman of the night. It wasn't that Peter was unattractive or that he was a bad guy, far from it, but he lacked tact. No matter how many times James had tried to help him or played wingman, Peter always managed to fumble his words and come off as a creep, even when James knew he really wasn't. He was still his best friend, regardless of his lack of social skills. James hoped that some day he would find someone willing to look past his nervous flirting and see him for who he really was: a kind-hearted man with very little social finesse. 

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He attempted to ignore it, preferring to stay present when he was out with his friend, but by the third vibration he said fuck it and dug into his pocket. Peter was preoccupied anyway.

Unknown: is this james? Unknown: it's been a while, so i'm not sure if this is still his number Unknown: sorry in advance if this is the wrong number, i know it's late

James quirked an eyebrow at the messages, his heart racing at the thought of who it could be. Regulus. He was the only one who James had given his number too in quite some time, and if he was honest with himself, he had nearly given up hope to ever hear from him again. Instead of texting, he decided to call the number. He needed to know for sure that it was Regulus on the other side of that unknown number.

The phone rang four times before it was finally answered, a long silence stretching out before James heard a soft "Hello?"

He immediately made his way through the crowd of people towards the back exit, needing a quiet space to speak to the man he hadn't stopped thinking about for months. "Hey, is this Regulus?"

"Depends. Is this still James' number?"

"Yeah. Yes. I've been thinking about you, baby. I had almost given up on ever hearing from you again."

More silence. James began to doubt that he had handled this well. Maybe he was more like Peter than he had realized. 

"I've been thinking about you too, Daddy. Couldn't stop thinking about you, actually."

Fuck. Maybe nothing had changed between them after all. He felt the desperation to see Regulus, to be between his pretty thighs, growing just as strong as that first day he laid eyes on him. He knew in the first moment that he had seen him that he needed to claim him. Needed nothing more than to make Regulus his.

"What took you so long then?"

Regulus hummed. It sounded to him that Regulus was milking the time in an attempt to avoid answering his question. He almost didn't expect a response at all. 

"I needed to be sure that I wanted you again and that I wasn't just dick drunk. Come over?"

James laughed. "I'd love to baby, but I'm drunk drunk."

"Take a cab. I'll text you my address."

"Regulus, I—" James heard the line go dead, Regulus determining that the conversation was over and that James would, in fact, be going over to his place. He wanted to say that he had more self control than to simply show up at Regulus' beck and call, and yet… he knew he wasn't. He knew that Regulus would text him his address and he'd immediately pull up the rideshare app on his phone, entering the address given to him. 

He slid his phone back into his pocket and headed back into the bar in search of Peter. James might have been bailing on him in favor of seeing the guy he'd been fantasizing about since their last meeting, but he'd at least have the decency to tell his best friend that he was leaving early. He looked around until he saw Peter sitting alone at the bar, nursing his drink.

"Hey," James said, sitting down in the stool next to him.

Peter looked up at his voice. "Oh, hey. Wasn't sure where you went."

"Didn't go well, I take it?"

"Nah," Peter shrugged. "She told me she had a boyfriend, but I think she just wanted me to leave her be, so I came over here to grab another drink." He took a generous sip of his beer.

James felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, but he ignored it in favor of consoling his friend. "I doubt you'll find your soulmate in a bar like this anyway, man." He caught the attention of the bartender and ordered another beer. He figured he'd need it to give him a dose of bravery, even if it tasted like piss.

"I doubt it. But a quick fuck in the bathroom would do for now, y'know?"

"Not these bathrooms," James laughed. "They're disgusting. At least up your standards to the alleyway or something."

The bartender smirked as he delivered James' drink. 

"I think I need to head home after this one," James said, raising his drink and nodding toward Peter.

James felt his phone vibrate again and he pulled it out of his pocket, glancing at the push notifications.

Unknown: you're still coming over, right? Unknown: don't ignore me daddy

Peter looked over his shoulder at his phone and laughed. "Home, huh?" He took a sip of his drink. "Who's that?"

"Look, I—"

"It's fine, man. You haven't gotten laid in months now, I think you're due. So, tell me about her."

"Not a her, first off."

"Oh, yeah? Don't let the team find out about that one. They can say all they want that they're accepting, and maybe they are individually, but you know you'd never make it pro if the rumors start in the locker room."

James took a long sip of his piss-beer. "Yeah, I know. We're just friends anyway, it's not a big deal."

They sat in borderline awkward silence for a few minutes, drinking and avoiding touching the subject that Peter had brought up. James knew that Peter didn't have a discriminatory bone in his body, but he also knew that he was right. A desperate part of him wanted to call Regulus his boyfriend and he had to wonder how that would work if he had to keep Regulus a secret. He doubted that someone who was so used to being in the spotlight would feel okay with being a secret behind closed doors.

His phone vibrated on the bar.

Unknown: [unknown sent you one image]

Peter looked down at his phone at the same moment he did and smirked. "Just a friend, huh?"

"Pete, shut the fuck up."

"C'mon, I just wanna see what your friend sent you after asking if you were still coming over."

Unknown: i hope this is tempting enough for you to tell me you're on your way

"Yeah, he's definitely just a friend." Peter laughed. "C'mon then, respond. We both know you're going over."

"I probably won't," James said. He wasn't sure if he was trying to convince Peter or himself. "I have an early class tomorrow and then practice."

"Uh huh." Peter downed the remainder of his beer and leveled him a disbelieving look.

James unlocked his phone and opened the text thread. "Fuck." He could barely breathe as he looked at the image Regulus had sent him.

It was a mirror selfie unlike any that James had ever received. Regulus was sitting on the floor in front of a floor length mirror, his back to the mirror as he looked over his shoulder. The phone blocked his face from view, but he could see his artfully tousled black curls, tempting him to thread his fingers there. He sensed that if he could see his face, Regulus' pupils would be blown wide and a blush would be dusting his cheeks. He wore nothing but a black silk robe, pooling around his hips, revealing his bare back but hiding his perfect ass and thighs from view. The pads of his feet were visible, and James could tell from their angle that his legs were parted and his ass was positioned in such a way that if he was there in person, he'd need to get a taste. Fuck.

James: yeah, i'm on my way. lemme say goodbye to my friend and grab an uber.

James saved his number in his contacts, saving him as Baby. He was sure that he was still in Regulus' phone as Daddy, and if he wasn't, he'd be changing that as of tonight.

"So," Peter said, drawing out the 'o' in the word. "Definitely a friend?"

"As far as you're concerned, yeah."

Peter laughed. "I'll see ya tomorrow then, don't show up with any marks you don't want the guys to ask about."

James pulled up the rideshare app on his phone and nodded to his friend as he entered the address Regulus had provided to him into the request. "See ya." He paid out his tab and headed outside to wait.

In the car, he tried to calm his nerves, but it proved to be nearly impossible. The driver had music that he was unfamiliar with blasting and kept yelling over it to ask him questions. He ignored them, feigning being unable to hear over the music. He looked out the window to watch the city pass by rather than attempt to have polite conversation. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket again and dug into his jeans to check the notification. He smiled when he opened the text to see Regulus checking in with him again. After two months of not speaking to each other at all, he felt his stomach flutter at the thought of Regulus being just as anxious to see him. 

Baby: eta?

He decided not to reply to the text. According to the GPS, he was only a few minutes away, and a small part of him wanted to make Regulus feel just a little anxious about not hearing from him. After all, Regulus had taken James' number when they saw each other those months ago and hadn't reached out until now. The least he could do was be patient for a few minutes. James had been patient for months. Regulus should be grateful that James wasn't making him wait to see him on his terms. Or at least, that's what he tried to convince himself. He knew deep down that the moment Regulus had texted him it was all over. James would trip over himself time and time again just for a taste of whatever Regulus gave him.

When the car stopped in front of an apartment building, James hopped out and made his way up the steps to a locked door. He pressed the button that corresponded to the apartment number Regulus had texted him, a loud buzz ringing out around him, and let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. The door let out a quiet hum and he heard the lock click, indicating that he had been granted entrance. He couldn't help but wonder if Regulus was just as nervous as he was right now—waiting in his apartment at the door, peering out the peephole to see when James would arrive. He hoped that he was.

He finally arrived at the door labeled with the number Regulus had given him and as he lifted his hand to knock, the door flew open. Regulus stood there, draped in the black silk bathrobe that he had been wearing in the photo, looking like a fucking dream. Suddenly, all thoughts of irritation at not being texted sooner vanished. All that mattered was the man in front of him, draped in silk, but as James raked his eyes up those lean legs and the curves of his body, he noticed that Regulus was wearing an irritated scowl.

"Why didn't you text me back?" Regulus snapped, crossing his arms and blocking the entrance to his apartment by leaning against the frame of the doorway.

"I—" James was confused. He had never seen Regulus this cold and dismissive before. Why would him not texting Regulus trigger such a strong response like this? Especially when it had been months since James had heard from him.

"I know you saw the text. Your read receipts are on. So. Why didn't you text me back?"

"I was almost here. Can I come in? I'd rather not do this in the hallway."

"I'm not sure I want you to."

"Baby, come on."

"No." 

The door slammed in his face. Usually, having a door slammed in his face would discourage him, and if it was only about the sex, he'd have a far easier time getting that at the bar that he had come from. But there was just something about Regulus that drew him like a moth to a flame. He listened closely—the door hadn't been locked and he had only heard a few steps away from the door. He let out a breath and rapped his knuckles on the door. 

"Regulus?" he asked through the wooden barrier between them. "I know you can hear me. I'm going to open this door on the count of three. If you don't want me to come in, lock it before then, yeah? I'll leave if the door is locked." 

He didn't hear a response, but he hadn't really expected to. He counted to three and tried the knob. It turned freely in his hand and he pushed the door open to find Regulus standing in the entryway, staring at the floor. Suddenly, he looked so small and fragile to James. He hadn't thought until this very moment about the potential of him being the reason that Regulus would have avoided texting for this long. He knew what Regulus had said—I needed to be sure that I wanted you again and that I wasn't just dick drunk—but when he thought back on their first interaction, he realized what an ass he had been before they had hooked up. He wondered if those words he had said were making Regulus question James' true intentions here. He wondered if those words had made Regulus question his very self-worth.

I don’t date…

Have you ever had a hot quarterback want to fuck you in the dance studio?

…It can stay between us.

And fuck, he wished that he when met Regulus that he asked him on a date instead of casually fucking him in the studio. He had never wanted to date before, but everything about their chemistry had felt life-altering and brain-rewiring. When Regulus had kissed him, he felt like that was the first time he had truly been kissed—like every kiss before then had been to prepare him for how earth-shattering a real kiss would be. 

Every thought that had occupied his mind lately had been about Regulus. When the team had practice at the ballet studio last month, he had hoped beyond hope that Regulus would be the one teaching them again. When it had been a tiny woman with hair so blonde it was nearly white who had greeted him with a bright smile, he had almost felt bad for how coldly he had returned her greeting. He had spent the entirety of class thinking about what he and Regulus had done together in that very same space. When class had ended, he asked the woman—Pandora, he learned—about Regulus. She refused to give him a single detail, saying that if Regulus had wanted him to know anything then he would have reached out. It was obvious to James that the two of them were friends and that she was protecting Regulus, but the realization that Regulus needed to be protected from James because he had been such an asshole hadn't registered in his mind until this very moment.

"Why did you let me inside?" James asked in an attempt to let Regulus admit how he was feeling before James groveled over mere intuition.

Regulus' eyes snapped up, icy silver and full of something that James couldn't quite place. "Why didn't you text me back?" he threw back with venom lacing his tone, avoiding the question.

"Honestly? A few reasons. I was almost here being the main one. But I was also hurt that it took you this long to reach out to me. It made me feel like I had a little bit of the power back, I suppose. I wanted you to squirm for just a few minutes like I did these past couple months. For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"I let you in because I'm stupid."

James flinched at that. "I think we can both agree that I'm the stupid one out of the two of us and that you're just far too forgiving."

Regulus quirked an eyebrow, his hurt and anger dissolving into something unreadable on his face. "I'm not sure which of us is more self-depreciating."

James gave a small laugh and took a timid step towards Regulus. "That's probably a tie, I'd wager." When Regulus didn't move away, James closed the space between them. "Why did you call me tonight, baby?"

Regulus looked away, a soft blush dusting his cheeks. "I—I just wanted to see you."

"Is that all?" James brushed a stray curl from Regulus' face and tucked it behind his ear. He used the movement to trail his fingers along Regulus' jaw and then with two fingers, tilted his face up so that he was forced to look at James. The blush on his cheeks deepened and it took every ounce of effort on James' part not to kiss him until they were both breathless. "I'm glad you called. I missed you, I couldn't stop thinking about you actually. I even asked your friend, or I assume she's your friend, Pandora? But she refused to tell me anything about how you were or—"

Regulus rose to the balls of his feet and pressed a tentative kiss to James' lips, interrupting his nervous rambling. He pulled back and looked at James, his eyes full of questions he was too afraid to voice, but James knew they were there. He had the same questions swirling in his own mind. 

"Regulus, what are we doing?"

"I'm trying to kiss you. What are you doing, Daddy?" Regulus purred, his voice thick with desire.

Every semblance of control James had over his yearning for Regulus snapped at the use of that damn word. He had never thought he'd be so turned on from someone calling him 'Daddy' but the moment Regulus—the most demanding brat he had ever met—had surrendered control to him and uttered the word, he was done for. And Regulus knew it too, used it to his own advantage, swaying James from having a serious discussion to get him to bend to his every whim. He wondered if Regulus had ever been the one to surrender control to him, really. He hoped to one day be able to make Regulus feel so safe and cherished that he did.

"Fuck, you're gonna be the death of me." James crashed his lips to Regulus' and every part of him felt right. These last few months he had felt like every part of him was slowly coming undone, unraveling at the seams. Even his coach had noticed a difference in practices, making him run more drills and sprints than usual. There was no way that he could continue to go on without Regulus in his life. Every kiss they exchanged felt like coming up for air after nearly drowning. Their tongues explored one another and it was like returning home after far too long away.

Regulus pulled away after what could have been five seconds or five hours, James wasn't sure, but the whine he let out at the loss of contact was embarrassing. Or, would have been embarrassing if he was a proud man. He had just come to the conclusion that he would sacrifice all pride in exchange for even just one more kiss from the man in his arms. 

"Shh," Regulus soothed as he snaked a hand down James' arm and threaded their fingers together. "Come to my room?"

"Anything." James said too quickly.

Regulus quirked an eyebrow. "Anything?" he asked deviously. "You may regret that."

James hummed, pretending to think about the statement. He didn't have to, he knew that Regulus could ask anything of him and he'd do everything in his power to make it happen. "Doubtful. Lead the way, baby."

Regulus took his hand and lead him down a hallway and into an open door. A large bed sat in the middle of the room, draped in black silk and plush cream blankets. Thick forest green drapes were drawn and a floor length mirror that James recognized from the photo Regulus had sent him earlier sat in a corner next to a vanity set. The entire room was the pinnacle of comfort and elegance and felt so very much like Regulus, he couldn't help but to smile. Regulus pulled him into his body and pressed a kiss to his mouth before pushing him backwards towards the edge of the bed.

"Sit," Regulus said. 

"Feeling bossy tonight, baby?" James purred.

"I'm always bossy," Regulus replied as he stepped forward. James opened his legs so he could stand between, reaching out to pull Regulus in close. Regulus hummed and trailed a finger down James' jaw, his eyes hooded and hazy with desire. "You just caught me off guard the first time."

"You seemed to enjoy it all the same," James said. He turned his head towards Regulus' trailing finger and caught it in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the digit and hollowing out his cheeks as he sucked. He reached up and slid his hands under the silk robe to grab Regulus' ass. 

"Safe words?" Regulus asked, pulling his finger out of James' mouth and looking down at him with an unreadable expression.

"Isn't that my line?"

"Not tonight, Daddy."

James moaned. He couldn't remember a time that he'd ever allowed the roles to be reversed. He always preferred to control the scene, to know everything that would happen, but something about Regulus made him want to relinquish that control. He trusted him, even if he barely knew him. He knew he'd be safe within the walls of this room with him.

"Red means immediately stop, in need of aftercare. Yellow means stop, check in. Green means good to go, please for the love of God, don't stop." Regulus nodded along as James spoke. He gently removed his glasses for him and walked away to place them on the nightstand next to the bed and then returned to his spot between James' knees. James leaned forward into his body and then he felt the sharp sting of a palm on his cheek. 

"I didn't say you could touch me yet," Regulus said coldly as he stepped back, removing James' hands from his body and leaving him sitting alone on the bed fully clothed. "Color?" His voice softened as he checked in.

"Fucking hell," James massaged his cheek. He had never had anyone slap him before, in or out of the bedroom, and it stung in a way he wasn't expecting.

"James, we can't continue if you won't answer me."

"Sorry, yeah, green. I'm green. Never been on this side of it, responding is harder than I thought."

Regulus' eyebrows raised in surprise, his face softening in concern and trepidation. "Let's pause, yeah?"

"I said I was green, baby."

"I know, I know, but—"

"Keep going, please. I'll be so good for you, beg so pretty if that's what you want." James would do anything.

Regulus seemed to be lost in thought for so long, James wasn't sure that he would continue, and then he slipped away once more and walked over to the opposite side of the room where a dresser sat against the wall. He picked up his phone and began to fiddle on it and just when James was about begin to beg, music filled the space around them. Regulus placed his phone down on the dresser and opened a drawer, pulling out a black box. He held the box as he walked back over towards the bed, placed it on the bed behind James, and then slowly strode to the middle of the room to stand in front of James, but just out of reach. He began to slowly untie the silk robe, his long fingers moving with purpose, working the knot in methodical movements that were intended to drive James insane. When the knot was undone, Regulus pulled the silk tie from around his body and threw it at James. He moved his hips to the music the entire time, rolling his body and driving James crazy with want. He could feel his cock quickly thickening in his jeans, becoming uncomfortable with neglect.

As he danced, the robe gaped slightly, giving James all too brief glimpses of Regulus' toned body, his abs flexing with movement, and red lace panties. James' mouth watered, wanting nothing but to tear through the lace and get a taste of what was hidden beneath it. Regulus inched the robe down off of his shoulders and turned his body, arching his back and giving James a show of the silk slowly being removed. He barely caught a glimpse of the red lace cupping Regulus' ass perfectly before his face got covered with the robe being thrown at him. He quickly ripped it off his face and gaped at the view of Regulus swaying his hips as he walked towards him. 

"No touching," Regulus warned as he approached.

James nodded, though he wasn't sure if he could abide by the rule. Regulus crawled onto the bed, nestling his knees on either side of James' body and resting his hands on his shoulders as he began rocking his hips in time with the music. At first, Regulus hovered, avoiding touching James as well, but then he leaned in. He began grinding his hips on James, both of them moaning at the friction. It took every ounce of self control that James had to keep his hips still and his hands firmly placed on the bed as Regulus ground himself on his cock. One of Regulus' hands slid up from James' shoulder and buried itself into James' curls. He gave James a sloppy kiss and when he pulled away, a trail of spit connected them. 

Regulus pushed at James' shoulder and he allowed himself to fall back, laying on the bed with his feet off the edge and staring up at the beautiful man before him. "Fuck, you're gorgeous," he said, unable to stop himself from verbalizing the observation.

"I know, but I think you've seen enough, Daddy." 

James' brows knit together in confusion as Regulus reached forward, grinding his hips into James as he did. James moaned at the friction, the sharp zipper of his jeans digging into his swollen cock and kissing him with a combination of pleasure and pain. He heard Regulus rummaging into something, the box he assumed, and when he sat back he held up a blindfold in question. 

"Fuck," James moaned. "Yeah, okay. Whatever you want, baby. Just… please let me out of my clothes first?"

"Aw, poor Daddy. Fully clothed while his baby is dripping with desire." Regulus placed the blindfold on the bed next to him and dipped his fingers into his panties. James could feel his fingers swirling in the wetness gathered there through his jeans, nearly bucking his hips at the feeling. When Regulus pulled his hand away, his fingers were soaked with his arousal. He sucked his fingers into his own mouth, moaning as he pulled the fingers away and pushed them against his lips as his tongue swirled around them. James groaned and pushed his hips up into Regulus' body, seeking more friction as he watched.

"You're not going to cum until I let you, Daddy." Regulus made quick work of removing James' shirt and then shifted his hips so he had access to James' belt. He made a show of unlatching the belt and sliding the leather through the loops before holding the belt in front of him. "Hands?" 

James looked up at Regulus' face as he held out his hands in offering. He felt Regulus wrap the belt around his wrists, looping the leather confidently, latched the buckle, and then checked the tension with his fingers. Then, Regulus picked up the blindfold and secured it over his eyes, preventing James from both seeing and touching what he most desired.

"Color?"

"Green."

"Good."

He felt the weight of Regulus leave his lap and whined at the loss of him. Left fully alone on the bed, he writhed in need. The loss of his sight was a sensation that heightened all other senses in his body and his leaking and aching cock began to overwhelm all of his nerves. He heard a rustling of fabric and then froze when he felt Regulus' fingers begin to work at the button of his jeans. He unzipped the fly of his jeans tortuously slow and then James felt his jeans being pulled by the loops. He canted his hips to aid in the removal of them and then felt Regulus' hot breath against his cock through the thin material of his boxer briefs. 

"Look at you," Regulus breathed, nuzzling into his aching cock. "So hard for me and I've barely touched you. Leaking and desperate for me."

"Just for you, baby," James said as he thrusted his hips into nothing, seeking friction and finding none. 

"Such a little slut for me," Regulus said. "Sluts don't get to cum though, do they?"

James let out a desperate whine. He could tell from Regulus' voice that he was no longer near his cock and his suspicions were confirmed when he felt the bed dip next to his head. 

"Especially when they lack manners. You can't even beg properly." Regulus continued. "You'll have to work extra hard to cum, Daddy."

James felt Regulus crawling closer and then Regulus was hovering over his mouth, hot pleasure nearly dripping into his mouth. Regulus was so close, he could practically taste him. He let out a whine and lifting his head in an attempt to meet Regulus' body with his mouth, desperate to please.

A rough hand buried into his hair and held him in place. "Mind your manners, Daddy. Ask me nicely to sit on your face. Beg for my cunt, like the needy slut you are."

"Please, baby. Please let me taste you." Every thought had left James' mind, the only thing that mattered was dipping his tongue into Regulus' body. "I'll do anything you say, please, please. Baby, I just need to taste you. Please."

Regulus hummed and released his hand from James' hair. "Maybe you can be trained," he said, mimicking the words that James had said to him just a few short months ago when their roles had been reversed. "If you need to safe word, reach up and tap me three times. Show me, Daddy." James contorted his hands so he could follow the direction given and when Regulus was satisfied that James knew how to get his attention, he lowered himself onto James's face. He let out a loud moan as James dipped his tongue into him, grinding into James' face. James moaned right along with him—unable to see or touch, his senses became overwhelmed with everything that was Regulus. He rocked his hips as he continued to lick and suck and bury himself into Regulus' wet heat. He felt Regulus' breath hitch, aware of every movement the man riding his face made, and then Regulus was cumming. James' mouth flooded with the heady taste of Regulus' orgasm and he continued to lick him through it, relishing in the warm liquid pooling in his mouth. 

"Fuck," Regulus moaned, grinding his hips down into James' face. "I knew we could put that mouth to good use."

James groaned, circling the bundle of nerves at the apex of Regulus' thighs with his tongue, hoping that Regulus knew he agreed with the sentiment. 

"How many times can you make me cum, Daddy?"

James' hips bucked, seeking friction he knew he wouldn't find. He continued to lick and suck at Regulus above him, desperate to please the man riding his face. It didn't take long for Regulus to cum again and as James fucked his tongue into him, he felt Regulus ride the wave of one orgasm right into another, the taste of him sweet in his mouth. His hips were constantly moving of their own accord now, James barely aware of his own body, and wholly focused on Regulus' pleasure. He had decided that if he couldn't feel physical pleasure of his own, then he would tune himself into Regulus'.

"Do you want to cum, Daddy?" Regulus asked the question, but pushed himself so firmly onto James' face that he could hardly breathe, let alone answer. James moaned at the feeling and gave himself earnestly to Regulus for his pleasure, sucking at the nerves and tasting Regulus orgasm again. 

Regulus let out a breathy moan, riding James' face through his orgasm, before he spoke again. "You've been so good for me, keeping that mouth busy to make sure I cum. So, so good. I think you get rewarded for being so well behaved."

When Regulus raised his body from James' face, he whined at the loss. He heard Regulus laugh darkly. "Little slut misses my cunt already?" A finger trailed his body, starting at his neck and working down his chest to a nipple, then pinched. "Answer me."

"Y-yeah. Miss it so much, baby. You taste so good. I could live off that cunt."

"Hmm," Regulus hummed in consideration as he continued to trail his fingers up and down James' torso. "If I let you cum, do you think you'll be able to fuck me and cum inside me after?"

"Inside? Reg—"

"I'm haven't—I'm still clean if you are. I have an IUD. Sorry, uh… Yellow? I shouldn't have brought this up while you're… like this."

Regulus began fiddling with the blindfold and James pulled his head away in a desperate attempt to make Regulus stop. He didn't want to break the scene, he had felt himself slipping into a subspace for the first time and wanted to allow himself to relish at the feeling. "No, baby. Green. I'm good. Better than good. I want that so bad, desperate for it actually."

"James, I'm the one who called the safe word… I have condoms, it's fine—"

"I don't want them, you only called the safe word because you felt like you were coercing me. You're not. I want this. I want you." James was desperate to make Regulus understand that he was fully aware of the decision, that he was truly fine with the decision. He hadn't been with anyone since he and Regulus had hooked up and if he was honest with himself, he didn't want to be with anyone else anyway. He trusted when Regulus said he had birth control and if he didn't… well, he'd even be okay with the consequences of that too. Fuck, Regulus made him feel insane.

He heard Regulus let out a breath, a long stretch of silence weighing heavy between them. Then, he felt a hand rubbing his cock between the thin material of his briefs. He hissed at the contact, his cock neglected for so long it grew hypersensitive. "Well, then you're going to have to answer the question, Daddy. Will you be able fuck me after I get you off?"

Regulus pulled his hand away and James chased his hand with his hips, desperate for the heady mixture of pleasure and pain that was the feather light touch of his hand on his cock. He nodded, shameless in his search for pleasure from the man who held him in the palm of his hand. 

"Words, Daddy. If you won't answer, I'll just have to use one of the toys in that box instead while you lay here, pathetic and needy, listening to me cum all by myself."

"Fuck, baby. Yeah, yes. Please. Can I cum? Can you make me cum?"

"Well," Regulus purred. "Since you asked so sweetly."

James felt his boxers being pulled down from his hips and he shifted his weight to help, his cock sprang free and he hissed at the feeling of the fabric when it brushed against his sensitive skin. Before he had adjusted to his cock free from the confines of his underwear, Regulus had taken him into his mouth, swallowing his entire length in one fluid motion. He pulled back, brushing the flat of his tongue against the underside of his cock, then swirled his tongue around his sensitive tip. Regulus pushed his tongue into the slit, lapping at the pre-cum gathered there, then sucked his cock back into his mouth, taking him all the way to the back of his throat. He continued to bob his head, hollowing his cheeks and sucking before relaxing his throat and taking him impossibly deeper. James moaned, pushing his hips in time with Regulus' movements before he felt himself on the edge of his orgasm. 

"Reg, baby, I'm gonna—" Regulus gripped his thighs and pushed himself down, holding James deep to spill down his throat. James thrust his hips as he felt himself dissolve into pleasure, the hypersensitivity lending itself to a powerful orgasm. He felt Regulus pull away and he whined at the loss of contact. 

Regulus crawled up his body and ripped off the blindfold. James blinked a few times, adjusting his eyes to the light of the room after being deprived for so long. "Hi, baby. You look so pretty with your lips swollen from sucking my cock."

"You have a big mouth for someone who still can't use his hands," Regulus teased. James watched as Regulus reached over him towards the box on the bed. He rustled around until he found what he was looking for and instead of leaning back into James' body, he pushed himself up and away. James stared at his ass as he walked across the room, missing the warmth of his body, but relishing in the view. Regulus dragged a chair from the vanity in front of the bed where James was perched and sat down, propping his feet on the edge of the bed on either side of James' knees with a cherry red vibrator in his hand. 

James sat upright, his legs dangling off the bed, and shifted his body closer to Regulus. "Baby, what are you doing?"

"You're going to watch until you learn to keep your mouth shut." 

"You're really gonna fuck yourself with a vibrator that's my favorite color and expect me to be quiet?"

"If you want to fuck me after, yes." Regulus turned on the vibrator, the hum of the toy filling the space between them. "I am more than happy to fuck myself until I'm satisfied if you decide not to learn your lesson, it won't be me going home with an aching cock."

Regulus leaned back into the chair, opening his legs wider to offer James a perfect view of how soaked he was before he brushed the toy over the sensitive nerves. James whined as Regulus moaned in pleasure, his cock already half hard from the view before him. Regulus pushed the vibrator inside of him and writhed, rocking his hips and crying out in pleasure. James could practically taste the orgasm building inside Regulus already. 

"Baby, you're so fucking pretty, I wish you could see yourself."

"Maybe I was wrong about you," Regulus said between moans, fucking himself on the vibrator without inhibitions. 

James hummed and leaned forward, dropping his bound arms between his knees so he could get himself closer to Regulus. "Wrong about what, baby?"

"Maybe you can't be trained after all." Regulus gasped, arching his back as he rode through another orgasm.

"Probably not," James laughed darkly. "I've never let anyone boss me around before. Give a man a little credit for his efforts? You're irresistible after all."

"Fuck it—" Regulus turned off the vibrator and tossed it on the bed next to James as he lowered his legs. He reached forward and undid the buckle of the belt binding James' arms together and massaged the skin there, ensuring that he hadn't lost any feeling in the limbs. 

James laced his fingers into Regulus' dark curls and pulled him in for a sloppy kiss, his head spinning at the taste of himself on Regulus' lips. "We could still use the toy, you know."

Regulus raised an eyebrow in question, giving James a nonverbal prompt to continue.

"You could keep fucking yourself with that toy, which I loved watching by the way, holy fuck— And I could fuck that tight ass of yours at the same time."

Regulus sat in the chair staring for a moment, seemingly too stunned by the suggestion to speak. 

"If you don't want—"

"I want. I've just… I've never done that before. Both, at the same time."

"I'll make it so good for you, sweetheart." James leaned in for a quick kiss. "Get on the bed for me on all fours, yeah? I'm assuming you've got lube in this box of yours." He leaned back towards the box and rummaged through until he found a bottle of lube. As he searched, he felt the bed shift with Regulus' weight. When he looked back over, he saw Regulus on the bed with his ass in the air, staring at him with a glassy, contented expression. James picked up the discarded vibrator, turned it on, and handed it to Regulus. "Don't stop, baby."

He watched as Regulus adjusted his body so that he could fuck himself on the toy and moaned at the sight. Gripping Regulus' ass, James parted his cheeks and lapped at the ring of muscle while Regulus continued to writhe and moan beneath him. When James had determined that Regulus was thoroughly relaxed, he coated his fingers with lube and gently pushed in one finger. 

"You take me so good, baby. Fuck, it's like you were made for this." He continued to work Regulus open, pushing his finger in and out in time with the way Regulus was moving the vibrator. He coaxed a second finger inside and felt Regulus tense at the change. James used his other hand to rub soothing circles into his ass, whispering sweet words to relax him. "Just breathe, baby. You're doing so good. So good for me."

Regulus preened, relaxing almost instantly at the praise. He pushed his ass into James further, begging for more with his body instead of his words. James continued to work his fingers, opening him gently so that he would continue to relax into the feeling. He knew it would burn when he pushed his third finger in and when he did, he heard Regulus take in a sharp breath, but he didn't tense like he had earlier. Instead, he rocked into his hand, never once faltering in fucking himself with the vibrator. James felt the vibrations up his arm and groaned at the thought of how obscene it was going to feel to be inside of Regulus in just a few short moments. He continued to scissor his fingers, working Regulus open and prepping him to avoid the burn as much as possible. 

"Daddy, if you don't fuck me soon I'm going to lose my mind."

"I just want to make sure you're ready, baby." James moved his fingers slower, teasingly.

Regulus whined, pushing his ass back into James' hand. "Please, I'm fucking ready and you know it."

James hummed, pretending to be deep in thought and stilling his fingers. "I'm not sure you're begging nicely enough, baby."

"Please, Daddy. Please, I need your cock." Regulus arched his back impossibly further, tempting James with such a beautiful view he couldn't resist.

"Well, since you asked so nicely, baby." James pulled his fingers away and slicked his cock with lube before lining himself up at Regulus' entrance. "Remember to use your safe words, baby. If it hurts, pull the vibrator out, okay? It shouldn't hurt, just relax into it."

Regulus nodded.

"Words, baby." James was so close to losing his self control.

"Yes, Daddy. If it hurts, I'll stop. Now for the love of God, please fuck me already."

James laughed darkly and slapped Regulus' ass for the bratty behavior before he began to slowly inch himself inside. Regulus moaned, a needy and wanton thing, and James felt him slow the movement of the vibrator as he pushed himself into his body. The vibrations traveling through Regulus' body into his cock made his breath hitch with pleasure. He paused his movements when he bottomed out, waiting for Regulus to squirm or begin moving the toy again before he fucked into him with reckless abandon. 

"Fucking—Move, James."

James slapped his ass again, not moving an inch. "That's not who I am to you right now, baby. And that's not how you speak to me."

"You're having a real fucking power trip for someone who was tied up a few minutes ago."

"You're having a real fucking power trip for someone who's filled up in every hole." James leaned forward and shoved two fingers in Regulus' mouth, pushing them deep and making Regulus gag from the surprise. When the shock subsided, Regulus moaned and swirled his tongue around. "I'm going to fuck you now and the only thing you're going to say is please and thank you, Daddy."

Regulus nodded around his fingers and James pulled away so he could finally move his hips. His pace was relentless, ignoring the pace that Regulus had set with the toy and fucking into him for nothing but the pursuit of his own pleasure. Regulus moaned and writhed beneath him, pushing his hips back into James in an attempt to keep pace. The vibrator continued to buzz, sending both of them into heightened sensitivity, and James knew that despite his earlier orgasm, he wasn't going to last long. 

"Please," Regulus moaned. His back was shiny with sweat and when he looked over his shoulder at James, he noticed that his usual waves were stuck to his forehead. His cheeks were flushed with pleasure and James nearly came at the sight of him completely undone beneath him. 

"Please, what, baby?" James asked as he continued pounding into him.

"Wanna cum. Want you to cum. Please, Daddy."

"Want me to fill you up, baby?"

Regulus let out a loud moan and James felt his body tense in pleasure.

"Fuck, baby. I've got you, cum for me one more time. I'll give you what you need."

That was all it took for Regulus to become undone and at the feeling of those muscles tightening and relaxing around him, James came hard and fast. He thrusted impossibly deeper inside of Regulus and spilled every drop inside of his body, marveling at the feeling. 

Regulus pulled the toy out of himself and switched off the vibration before chucking it to the side on the bed and going completely limp beneath him. James collapsed on top of him, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him in close as he turned to his side, spooning Regulus while still inside of him. He didn't want to be apart yet. He needed this closeness after the intensity of what they had just done together. He kissed Regulus' shoulder and hummed a mindless melody to himself, completely sated and satisfied. 

After a few minutes, it was Regulus who broke the silence. "James, you-you're still inside of me and we're disgusting."

"Shh, sweetheart. One more minute." James felt his eyes growing heavy and his cock softening inside of Regulus' body.

"If we stay like this for one more minute, you're gonna fall asleep. We're sticky and gross. I can't sleep like this. Let's shower."

He felt Regulus pulling away and teasingly bit down on his shoulder, earning himself a rare laugh from Regulus, and then Regulus did pull away and James let out a whine. He opened his eyes and while his vision wasn't great without his glasses, it was clear enough to witness the eyeroll reserved just for him. Regulus held out his hand in offering and James groaned as he grabbed it and got up from the bed, allowing Regulus to lead him into the bathroom down the hall.

James watched as Regulus leaned over to adjust the water on the shower, staring at his ass and the evidence of his orgasm dripping out onto his thighs. He stepped closer and brushed a hand along Regulus' upper thigh, trailing up slowly, and gathered the cum leaking from his body onto his fingers. Regulus hitched a breath and leaned in, encouraging James to push his fingers inside of Regulus' ass. 

"Not satisfied?" Regulus asked on a breathy moan.

"More like you make me feel insatiable. Besides, you wanted me to fill you up. Seemed like a waste to have it dripping out of you already." He pumped his fingers a few times before pulling them out and smacking his ass playfully. "Shower's ready, yeah?"

"Hmm? O-oh, yeah." Regulus stepped into the stream of water and James followed right after, letting the warm water soothe his tired muscles. They went through the routine of showering, exchanging sweet kisses and pulling each other close. They washed each other's bodies and hair and James felt like he could cry over the small acts of intimacy that they shared. When they finished, Regulus turned off the water and James toweled him off slowly, methodically. He made sure to touch every part of his body with the plush towel, immediately followed by soft kisses. When Regulus was dry, James wrapped a towel around his own hips and kissed him gently, reverently. Savoring the taste of him on his mouth, he hoped that Regulus would know how precious he was without words.

"It's getting late…" Regulus murmured between kisses.

James kissed him again, pulling his body impossibly closer. "Can I stay?"

"James, listen—"

"If you want to keep this casual, I get it, I just…"

Regulus' brows knit together. "You're the one who said you don't date, James. The shower together was pushing my boundaries of domesticity for a casual hookup."

"I know what I said—"

"Look, it's late—"

"No, let me finish. Please?"

Regulus sighed, pulling away slightly and James shivered at the loss of him. "Fine, but can we put clothes on first?"

"Yeah," James nodded. "Yeah, let's get dressed and have some tea or something."

They padded back to the bedroom in silence and Regulus pulled out clean clothes from his dresser. James picked up his discarded clothing from the floor and winced at the idea of pulling them back onto his body when Regulus wordlessly handed him a pair of sweatpants and a threadbare band tee. 

"They might be a little tight, but that's the closest I've got to your size."

"Thanks, sweetheart." James smiled and pulled the clothes on. Regulus was right that they were a little tighter than he'd usually prefer, but they were still more comfortable than his jeans would have been. He grabbed his glasses from the nightstand and placed them back on his face.

Regulus' body was lost in the sea of baggy sweatpants and over-sized tee that he picked for himself and James smiled at the memory of meeting him for the first time and having to pull off so many layers that he lost count. He followed Regulus out of the room, down the hallway, and into the kitchen where he filled a kettle with water and placed it on the stove to boil. 

"I—"

"Peppermint?" Regulus asked, effectively stopping James from beginning the conversation he was itching to have. "I also have lavender?"

"Peppermint is fine." He answered. He let the silence draw out between them as Regulus worked to prepare their tea and when he was finally handed a steaming mug, he followed Regulus into the living room and sat next to him on the couch. 

"Okay, now you can finish."

"I want to take you on a date."

Regulus quirked an eyebrow in disbelief. "A date? This coming from the man who said he doesn't date."

"I don't—"

"And yet here you are, asking me for something you don't do?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

James let out a breath, gathering his thoughts and his nerves. "I really like you—"

"You don't know—"

"Let me finish. You said I could finish." James looked at Regulus earnestly, begging him with his eyes to listen to what he had to say before reacting. 

Regulus leaned back into the couch and waved a hand for him to continue. 

"I don't date. I haven't ever wanted to until I met you. And maybe this is fucking crazy, I feel fucking crazy, but I feel like I've known you my entire life. Like I've known you in every life I've ever lived. Like I've loved you in every one of them. And sure, we don't know each other very well here and now, but I feel like I know you. Like I could grow to love you in this lifetime too. Those months where you had my number but didn't reach out? I felt like I was missing a limb I never knew I had before I met you. I didn't seek anyone out in our time apart, I mean— Fuck, the guys on the team made fun of me for not taking home girls when we'd go out like I usually did. For ignoring everyone who threw themselves at me. None of them were you. I don't expect us to just magically fall in love and live happily ever after, but I really want us to give this a real shot." James finally looked up at Regulus. His eyes were red rimmed and tears gathered there, on the precipice of being spilled. "Don't cry, baby, I'm sorry—"

"Do you mean it?" Regulus' voice was small and shaky, like he was afraid to be this vulnerable.

"I do. But I need you to know before you agree to go out with me that we'd have to keep us a secret. At least until after the drafts. I-I really want this, I really want us, but I've been working my entire life to get into the NFL and they're just…"

"You can't be openly queer in football." Regulus said, his voice hollow and empty of emotion. The tears gathered in his eyes rolled down his cheeks and James leaned forward to wipe them away with his thumb.

"Not yet. I can be the first, but I need to get drafted first. I'm willing to be the first, if it means I get to keep you, as long as you know what kind of attention would fall onto you too."

"What kind of attention?"

"The homophobic kind. The picking apart everything about you and your life kind. The transphobic kind, undoubtedly."

Regulus flinched.

"I don't need an answer tonight, it's late and it's a lot to think about—"

"Ask me again."

"Regulus…"

"Ask me again."

"Can I stay the night?"

"Yes, James. I'd love that. But on one condition."

James smiled. "Anything for you."

"You have to take me out to breakfast in the morning. On a date."

"I'd be honored, baby."

[some-stars]

i was about to reblog this post with some thoughts, and then reblogs got turned off so i will just put them here instead:

it's not that i disagree with any of the sentiment in this post--while i personally have been very lucky to get plenty of nice comments, it's definitely eerily quiet and sometimes weirdly hostile out there for most people, much more than it used to be. but i just don't think posts like this are effective, and honestly i don't think that "number of comments from strangers" is what's really missing. what people are missing is the community that fandom/fanfic used to have, and the way you get that is by making it. you gotta make fandom friends who are excited for your thoughts and your stories, and you gotta get excited about their stuff, and you gotta spend hours on discord and/or in the group chat bouncing ideas off each other and just, get invested in each other as fans and as writers. (and hopefully also as people you'll still be friends with a decade from now!)

like i'm never ever going to turn down a nice comment on ao3, it's always wonderful! when someone quotes the parts they liked best it absolutely makes my day! but what i need, what actually fuels me, is the attention and interest from the 2-5 people i actually write all my fics for, because they loved the idea and i know they can't wait to read it and will scream at me at length once they do. relationships are always going to motivate and reward you better than fans, and fortunately relationships are the one of those two things that you have some control over!

so how do you build those relationships? start by commenting on fics you love on ao3, and especially leave longer, detailed comments. follow the author and reblog their fics on tumblr and add some thoughts about why you loved them. if the author engages with you when you do either of those things, keep doing it. maybe they'll follow you back, and once you've had a few mutuals-type interactions on the dashboard try sending them a DM asking if they want to chat about [fandom/character/pairing]; maybe briefly mention an idea/WIP you have that you're looking to bounce around with someone. i know if you have social anxiety this all sounds like horrible cruel lies but i SWEAR, this approach has never once failed me.

and i know that this advice probably sounds like disingenuous bullshit coming from someone who usually gets a lot of comments. all i can say is that i've been writing fanfic for 25 years and until 2020, i hardly ever pulled the kind of numbers i do now, and i genuinely did not care because i always had at least a couple friends to talk to about my ideas and listen to their ideas and get excited together. build relationships that feed you with other fans/writers, it's so much more rewarding and reliable than hoping strangers will be nice to you.

(and i'm not saying they shouldn't be nice to you! people SHOULD comment more! OP is completely correct! but you can't hand over control of your emotions about a hobby you love to random strangers on the internet and just hope they'll do the right thing. that is not a recipe for happiness.)

(also all of the above is in regard to people not leaving comments. the issue of people leaving asshole comments criticizing your work or demanding more without even bothering to say something nice first is related but separate, and the way to deal with those people is to either publicly shame them or bitch about them in the group chat and delete their comments, depending on your energy levels.)

[bikiniarmorbattledamage]

So, naturally we had to, now the game is actually out, bingo the CENSORED outfit in Stellar Blade. Credit to HarryNinetyFour for showing all seventy-four outfits, and Kotaku for this article where they propose that Eve is at her sexiest when she's got more on.

Okay... maybe not that but...

Seriously, if you're playing to fap - this game has you covered. But it also has a few really interesting, covering outfits that seem to reflect fantasies of fashion and comfort.

The only thing that's really not present is any sort of actual military like BDUs or combat jumpsuits. That's kinda weird, even Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain let you put BDUs on Quiet.

And that bit is weird is, based on what I've seen people who've been playing the game saying - there is really a story about her being a soldier and fighting for a cause there. But you'd never know that based on the ongoing outrage.

The outrage is weird and sad

So as you can probably guess, the continuing riot of "censorship" here is pretty absurd. It's got to the point where they even bullied the Stellar Blade's X/Twitter account to un-repost the Kotaku article that praises the game.

But here's the thing, in all the years I've had to deal with brodudes doing this kind of nonsense in various online platforms etc, I have never seen one that is happy.

YouTuber Moon Channel did a two part (1, 2) series on a different drama in South Korea involving a Gacha game that dared not to be pointlessly horny, but here's the general take away.

English speaking brodudes in this situation are imagining that Stellar Blade is some sort of iconic work coming from the anti-woke wonderland where everyone is happy. The reality is:

South Korea has a deeply hierarchical society which essentially tells young people they are to obey and not to speak up

The economy and nepotism is such that unless you are born into a rich family, your employment prospects are downright depressing

Many young men in South Korea develop a lot of resentment toward women primarily because they are told that in order to enter a (heterosexual) relationship they will need to demonstrate they have the ability to be a great provider, and then are denied those opportunities by the economy and nepotism

On top of all this, the government takes a "we know whats best for you" approach to the extent that not only is porn banned but you will be expected to supply your identity information if you want to look up basic sexual educational materials

They would find it to be an absolute nightmare realm.

The reality is that in the "woke" world that brodudes fear, we'd probably see a lot more eroticism in art, including games, and it'd be of the more focused, sincere variety rather than that directed by creepy marketing guy.

All we really need to do is accept each other as people, appreciate each other's humanity and boundaries. Then we can both enjoy a sexy paradise, but also unite and deal with the assholes who keep oppressing us economically and socially.

Wouldn't that be nice?

-wincenworks

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

James (Paul McCartney x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hello! I've decided I have to make a chapter fic for Paulie because I'm in love with him. There are gonna be at LEAST 6 chapters in this fic, so there will be plenty more coming! Stick around, like and comment, and let me know if you want to be tagged when I release more chapters of this!

I want to personally thank my editor @strawb3rri-le for helping me make these ideas come into fruition. Literally cannot do this without you <3

Summary: Paul meets a pretty girl in the library one day, and is elated to find out she is oblivious to who he actually is.

This fic is written in third person from Paul's perspective, which is kind of different to how I normally write my x readers, so it might be a little jarring to read at first, but I just wanted to try something a little different :)

WARNINGS: I'm not certain I wrote any curse words in this one, but I'll say there is just to be on the safer side. Mentions of mushrooms/ fungi; not drug-related, but I figured I'd add that because some people don't like them. I use Y/n like 4 times in here around the end it drives me nuts, but it has to happen. I don't think there's much else.

This one is pretty safe, if I could rate it lower I would, but I'll mark it at T just to be on the safe side.

Paul could have watched the heavy raindrops hit the window pane for hours and hours. the grey clouds drifting in the sky above brought nothing but heavy showers to the streets of London that dark afternoon...

But that's not what he came to the library for.

He came here for some peace and quiet.

He wanted to get some more songwriting done, but the apartment didn't seem to be the place for it that day, and everywhere else just appeared to be crawling with girls. As much as Paul liked girls, he didn't want to be noticed, because then his day would have simply consisted of him trying to escape the hoards that would have started chasing after him.

The library felt like it made the most sense. People were there to read, study, keep to themselves; not to socialize with others and be loud. As long as he found a little private area to sit, he knew he wouldn't be bothered at all. He also figured, if he couldn't come up with any song ideas, he had tens of thousands of books to refer to for inspiration.

And that was the situation Paul was in at that moment. He'd been sitting in his little study nook for a while now, just staring blankly at his notebook, or out the window next to him. Usually the words came flowing from his mind, translated by his hand and onto the paper, yet that particular day, nothing seemed to be inspiring him.

He rose to his feet after a while, notebook shoved under his arm as he wandered off into one of the aisles nearest to him. He wasn't looking for any book in particular. Sometimes he'd just pull one off the shelf, flip to a random page, and read a random sentence in the middle of the text. If it seemed to be interesting enough to inspire even a single line in a song, Paul would use it. If not, off to the next book.

He began to do just that, with older books with worn spines, and newer books with colourful covers. Unfortunately, even after the fourth or fifth book he pulled from the aisle he was in, no inspiration seemed to manifest from what he was reading. He sighed as he pushed the book he was holding back into its place on the shelf before he made his way to the next aisle over.

Paul began repeating what he was doing before, reaching for a book, and flipping through the pages. This particular book, he cut three separate times, and not one sentence seemed to draw any kind of innovation for his songwriting.

Once again, Paul shoved the book back onto the shelf. As he stared ahead at all of the different pieces of literature before him, one book in particular seemed to catch his eye. It was green, with gold accents on the bevelling as well as the raised parts of the spine. Without a second thought, he reached up for it, only for his fingers to come into contact with someone else's.

Paul drew his hand back and glanced to his right, where a young woman about his age stood. He held his breath, fully expecting an overreaction from her at his presence.

Instead, she smiled awkwardly at him, her hand also drawn back close to her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were after that one," she explained gently, and Paul blinked, raising a confused eyebrow before looking back to that specific book. After a moment, he pulled it down off the shelf and examined the cover, the golden text embossed into the front cover reading 'Europe's Most Common Mushrooms, and Fungi: A Field Guide'.

"Do you like learning about Mycology as well?" She asked curiously, and Paul's gaze shot up to her face, eyes squinting a little at her question.

He was half confused on what she was honestly asking him, but he was also kind of surprised she wasn't pointing and shouting at the fact that she found a Beatle in public.

"... Mycology?" He asked back sheepishly, and her awkward smile warmed up a little at his question. She pointed at the book cover before responding with another question. "You know, the study of mushrooms, and fungi?"

Paul's eyes dropped back down to the book before cracking it open and flipping to a random page as he was doing with all the others. A beautifully illustrated picture of a mushroom with a porous underside presented itself to the young man, and his eyebrows furrowed at the image.

"That is a Boletus Edulis," she explained quietly to him. "It's a tasty gourmet mushroom found in Europe, as well as in North America."

Paul looked back up to her briefly before returning to the book and flipping to another page, a red capped mushroom with white spots being the next image to catch his eye.

"Ooh, and that one there is an Amanita Muscaria, also known as the Fly Agaric. It received its name back in the day because grinding it up and putting it in window sills and doorways would repel flies from entering your home."

"... You sure know your mushrooms, huh?" Paul asked carefully, rather impressed with the few bits of information provided to him by this stranger.

"It's definitely a good hobby to get into. Nothing beats going out onto the trail and foraging them for dinner." She paused briefly before adding, "I mean... the boletes are fine, but perhaps not the amanitas." 

Paul closed the book up again before taking a final glance at the front cover.

"I'm uh... sort of grabbing books at random, looking for something inspiring. There needn't be a reason to hang onto this if you need it," Paul explained, presenting it to her so she could take it, and her fingers accidentally brushed against his once again as she took it from him.

The graze was so gentle, yet Paul felt his cheeks warm up at the contact. She was awfully pretty, he decided to himself in silence as he watched the look of joy on her face appear when she flipped the book open herself. She stopped on a page containing a drawing of a white mushroom dripping black ink at its edges.

Paul couldn't help but double take the image. To think there was so much about the world he didn't know a thing about... it made him feel so small, and insignificant.

She must have noticed his gaze on the page, and figured she'd teach him about one more specimen. "These ones," she began, with a rather excited exhale, turning the book Paul's way so he could see, "are Shaggy Mane mushrooms. They are edible and good, as long as you haven't consumed alcohol for a few days prior to, and post consumption. Then they'd be quite toxic."

She smiled at the tidbit and looked up to Paul's face, nose crinkling a little. "Isn't that just the neatest thing?"

Paul couldn't believe what he was hearing. He never really thought about mushrooms before. Sure, he'd seen brown and white ones before in the grass, or growing on trees, but there was something about the way she relayed the information with such passion, that just made it so interesting to him. It was unlike anything he ever experienced before.

"... You have a very natural way of describing this sort of stuff," Paul expressed, nodding his head to her positively. "I honestly never realized there were so many different ones."

"Oh, what I've told you doesn't even scratch the surface of the world of Mycology," she explained, the smile only growing on her face, and Paul couldn't help but smile back at her.

"... I should really leave to let you continue on with what you were doing," she said after a moment. "I do appreciate you listening to my ramblings. I know I can sometimes get carried away with this sort of stuff," her smile fell away a little. "Not many really care about fungi, so it's nice to talk about my interests with someone who's willing to listen."

Paul's own smile began to falter, rather upset that such a pleasant conversation, with such a pleasant person, had to end so soon. He hadn't encountered such a normal discussion in so long. Not that a conversation about mushrooms and fungi was normal, but Paul felt it was just so refreshing talking about anything but him and his fame.

"... well, I rather enjoyed what you had to say," he admitted lightly, an undeniable blush flourishing from the woman's cheeks as she appeared to smile again, a little brighter than before.

"Well... thank you, again. You're very kind," she repeated, waving her hand kindly as she turned on her heel and wandered off to the next aisle.

Paul's eyes watched her round the corner, and he stood there in disbelief. There was so much for him to unpack in his thoughts in that very moment.

She had to have been one of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen; minding her own business in a library by herself, and doing something she really enjoyed. Her intelligence on the subject showed through her excited rambling, which Paul could have listened to for much, much longer.

Her voice was so pleasant, happiness apparent in her words as she described every species effortlessly, as if she'd known it all since the day she was born. It left him wanting to hear more from her.

But the cherry on top of all of this, was that she didn't even acknowledge Paul as anything but another human being. Not some big musician with whom she obsessed over just because of his looks. For someone who remained so calm, and pleasant in conversation, Paul was certain she had no clue who he actually was.

And he loved that.

As much as fame brought excitement to his existence, Paul couldn't deny that the concept of a simple, normal life with someone who loved him for him, and not his popularity to the public, was something he seemed to yearn for more often as of late.

He loved the idea of being a nobody, especially to someone he wanted to be somebody to.

He looked over his shoulder to the empty space where that green and gold book once sat, deciding to reach for the one sitting next to it. It happened to be another book on mushrooms and fungi, but it had a lot more words in it than images. He flipped to the middle of the book and read the fist word he saw.

Symbiosis.

He felt dumb staring at the word. He knew there was only one person he could ask to inquire about what it meant. He glanced up through the bookshelves, eyes searching through the gaps of the works to find her.

She only happened to be in the next aisle over, scanning the book titles off the spines above her head carefully, too in her own world to notice Paul's obvious staring through the shelving units. She pulled a book down and read the summary on the back, Paul watching her eyelashes flit lower and lower as she absorbed the words like a sponge in water.

He noticed that as she read, her lips gently mouthed each word, and he soon found himself stuck in a trance. He observed how her tongue poked out between her teeth to mouth words with the letter L, and how her lips would press tightly together as she read words containing B, and M.

Who would have thought, Paul wondered, something so small could be so hypnotizing?

She made a small face of approval to the book before stacking it on top of the green one she was given by him, and she headed over to an empty table in the corner of the room. She faced towards the shelves, back to the wall so she could see the whole library from her spot.

Despite this, as soon as she made herself comfortable, she was solely focussed on the books, and her dominant hand wrote out her notes almost romantically, notebook pages filling effortlessly with information that brought her joy.

Paul was absolutely mesmerized by her movements. Screw the rain, he could have watched her for hours. He couldn't get over the little flick of her wrist when she ended a point, or the wonderful silent motion of her lips reading out the words.

She drove him mad in the best kind of way.

She flipped to the next page in her notebook, and Paul came back down to earth, realizing then just how creepy he must have appeared, standing close to the shelf, and peering through to the other side to watch the woman simply minding her own business from afar.

His shoes felt like they were filled with cement, but he worked up enough courage to slowly move towards her table, opting to stand by a nearby shelf and stare blankly at the spines as to not look so awkward.

What would I even say to her? was the only thought at the forefront of Paul's mind, the black mushroom book still in his hand, one of his fingers wedged between the pages to mark where that silly word was. He knew he was going to ask her about it, but he needed to smoothly segue into it, somehow.

This situation was rather a bother to Paul. He felt conflicted as to why he seemed so nervous about approaching her. He was a flirt, and he loved making girls feel giddy, why would this stranger be any different?

He was close enough that he could have called for her attention, but her focus was faithfully undivided, completely oblivious to Paul standing only fifteen feet away from her, trying to muster up the nerve to say something, anything.

After talking to her for only a minute and a half, and having parted ways for not even five more, Paul found himself deprived of her voice, longing to hear anything roll off her tongue, as long as it were to him. He was pining to have her attention so badly, but standing and admiring her from only a couple of steps away was only going to get him so far.

His palms were sweaty, and he wiped them on his pants haphazardly as he took a deep breath. He took one more second to nod his head positively for motivation, and he stepped out into the open, facing her completely. His heart pounded in his chest, but he pushed himself to take one more step forward. And that happened to be enough for her to notice.

The stranger raised her gaze up to Paul, the look of neutral concentration on her face softening into a pleasant smile.

Just that made Paul weak in the knees.

"Find anything inspiring yet?" She asked him in a friendly tone, eyeing the book in his hand as his thoughts flatlined. He didn't expect her to speak first. On the one hand, he was relieved that it indicated she was okay with talking to him, but on the other, it put him off-script, and now he had to actually use his brain to initiate discussion.

"I uh..." he struggled for a moment, glancing down at the book in his hand, as well.

"If I'm going to be quite honest... you talking about mushrooms so passionately was pretty inspiring. It's all I can think about."

The woman's eyebrows arched in surprise, a gentle dusting of pink spreading over her nose as she took in his words. She toyed her bottom lip between her teeth, and Paul couldn't help but drop his gaze for just a second to admire her mouth.

"You know, I'm really flattered that you said that," she expressed gently. "That means a great deal to me. Thank you."

Paul couldn't even feel his legs now, basking in her praise, as a flower would to the rays of sun on a warm spring day.

"... I couldn't help but grab another book like the one you're reading," he explained, lifting it up to show her, and the apples of her cheeks rounded as she smiled even wider. Paul hadn't ever recalled seeing such a beautiful face before.

"I... I saw a word I don't know. I think you're the only person who can help me." The confession made Paul feel a little self-conscious; he didn't want to seem entirely stupid in front of her, but she really didn't seem the type to make fun of him over something like this, and really damage his ego.

Without a word, she pulled the chair out next to her as a silent indication for Paul to take a seat, and he took the offer graciously. He set his notebook down onto the table, and then opened the book to where his finger marked the page cut. She leaned in a little to peer down at the text, and he pointed to the word, realizing only seconds after just how close she was to him. He could smell the faintness of her body wash, and it made his head swirl.

"... This one." He mumbled, watching her in his peripheral as she read the sentence in her head, and physically mouthing the words as her eyes tracked each letter.

"Ah, symbiosis. It basically means two different organisms are benefitting off each other in some way or another. We would be a good example of this, right now," she offered, tilting her head up to look at Paul, who's ears burned hot at the eye contact, but he kept strong and held it for as long as she wanted to look at him.

"You're keeping me pleasant company, and in return, I'm helping you learn about fungi." He thought her point was going to end there, but she quickly added on, "from a natural standpoint, fungi and trees have a symbiotic relationship. If it weren't for the millions of miles of fungal network underground, connecting all the living organisms together, plants wouldn't be able to communicate to each other, or convert their energy from one to the other to achieve optimal growth."

"So... everything would die without fungi?" Paul asked slowly.

"I believe so," she nodded her head. "They play a role in every step of a plant's life. Take a tree, for example."

She slid the green and gold book over to sit between them, and she flipped through the first few pages until she found a diagram of a tree's life cycle, pointing to the images as she rambled on.

"Fungi help them establish strong roots when they're young. Some fungi actually provide nutrients in the soil for the trees to use as energy to grow tall and strong."

She turned her gaze back to Paul. "Even at the end, if a mother tree is dying, she will begin to use the fungal networks below to disperse her energy to her kin, sacrificing herself so they can grow, instead. They use the networks underground to communicate in their own special way."

The young man appeared to be in a dream-like state, head in his palm as he looked on in favour of her words. But when he noticed she stopped speaking after a while, he blinked, finding she was smiling a little awkwardly again, as if she'd asked him a question.

"Hm?" He asked, propped hand dropping to the table. He felt rather guilty his attention diverted.

"... I'm boring you, aren't I?" There was a hint of sadness in her words, a weak smile at her lips, and Paul shook his head quickly.

"No, no! Believe me, I'm listening." He thought for a beat, face going warm again as he confessed, "I just... I really love the sound of your voice. You have a way with words, and I did get a little distracted by that." The young woman's face fell expressionless, and Paul continued.

"I may be rather daft on the subject, but there's just something in the way you talk about it that makes learning about it so much more enjoyable. Please, don't stop talking."

She opened her mouth to say something, but she shut it as she pondered what to respond to Paul with. Her face was flushed, and she was holding back a grin, which ultimately made Paul a little confident considering he was the one that made her flustered.

"... You probably say that to all of the girls you talk to," she finally replied, eyes casting down to the books to hide her blush, and he couldn't help but bite back a smile of his own.

"Well, none of the other girls I know are quite like you," he stated with poise, eyes still locked in on her, hands clasping together as he noticed her blush deepen, and a smile finally breaking through.

Paul then attempted to downplay such a strong interaction. Despite talking to her the way he wanted to, he didn't want her to be uncomfortable with how forward he felt he was being.

"What does your boyfriend think about your hobbies?" He asked. "He must be so proud, and fascinated by how passionate you are about all of this stuff, surely."

She looked back up to Paul, her smile weakening a little. "Boyfriend? Oh I uh..." she cleared her throat. "I don't... I don't have one of those."

Paul's eyebrows lowered a little. "... As in you just got out of a relationship?" He tried to clarify, to which she shook her head.

"As in I've never really... had one." She had a sheepish look on her face, cheeks now red out of embarrassment rather than flattery. Her response sent Paul's eyebrows shooting up in surprise, to say the least.

"... Never?" He repeated in disbelief. She pressed her lips together in a line tightly, shaking her head once again.

"This," she gestured to the books with her hand, "is my life. It has been my life since my early teenage years. Mushrooms and fungi are... strange, and because I like them, I guess that makes me kind of strange, as well."

Her self-dejecting statement made Paul feel bad. In his mind, someone like her not being taken, though washing the feeling of relief throughout him, didn't add up at all. Not even her fascination in mushrooms made her odd, in his eyes.

"... If it means anything to you, I think you're just absolutely lovely," he said, watching as her lip pressed into a little pout as she regarded his words.

"I'm telling you... every guy out there has no idea what they're missing out on."

Paul desperately wished he could read minds; especially hers. She didn't speak, and Paul assumed that the was simply trying to grasp for some words to say. If he were in her position, he wouldn't have known what to say, either.

"For once in my life, someone has actually made me speechless," she confessed, huffing a sigh as she rubbed one of her cheeks, as if that would have made her blush disappear.

"I want to tell you thank you, but that doesn't feel like nearly enough," she explained. "Honestly, your girlfriend is very lucky to have such a charming boyfriend. You have a way with words, yourself." Her comment made Paul laugh, but only once. Inside his chest, his heart was doing somersaults, but he was trying his hardest to keep his composure.

"What girlfriend?"

The woman gasped at his response. "You lie," she accused, yet Paul knew it was all in good nature by the smile on her face. "Even if you were, with a face like that, there's no way you don't have girls chasing after you all the time."

How the tables have turned, Paul thought; a little excited he found himself in the same spot as her only moments after he made the same mistake. Part of him wanted to respond to her with something witty, like "who says I don't?", but the other part of him didn't want that to arouse any questions that would segue into a conversation regarding his job.

He couldn't risk having her know everything, and fall for the idea of him.

"I guess I just... haven't found the right bird yet." He figured that was another truth he could hold by without entirely lying to this poor woman.

"That's fair. Well, whoever has the pleasure of ending up with you is a very lucky woman, indeed." Paul's cheeks darkened again, the compliment making his fingers feel a little numb. He noticed her eyes drifting to the window above his head before she suddenly closed her books shut.

"The rain's stopped. This has been a rather lovely conversation, but I do apologize. I must be leaving now."

Paul felt his stomach drop, and his mouth fell agape, watching worriedly as she gathered her belongings and rose to her feet.

"What-- you're leaving? Right now?"

He felt the same way he did back in the aisle when she cut the conversation short, full of disappointment that it all had to come to an end again.

"I was on my way to my parents' house before the rain started," she explained with a lopsided smile. "I'm helping my mother prepare for dinner tonight, but the rain was so bad, I figured I'd spend some time in here while I waited for it to die down. And I'm very glad I made that decision."

Paul nodded his head, realizing the last part of what she said alluded to making his acquaintance. He also found he couldn't be upset at such a wonderful gesture of kindness, her going to her parents'. "That is very sweet of you to do that for her," he said gently, standing up as well before she disappeared again.

"Before you go," he started, feeling hot beneath the collar as he tried to gather a little bit more courage to speak, her expecting eyes on him making him rather anxious.

"I would like to keep in contact with you," he paused briefly, "only if you want. I just... I've had a really pleasant time talking with you, and learning about your interests, and I would very much like to do all of this again."

Her cheeks rounded out again as her smile widened a little more-- Paul couldn't get over that damned smile of hers.

"You know... I would like that a lot," she finally answered, glancing down at her notebook before flipping to the last page and ripping it out. She folded it in half, and then tore it at the line, handing Paul one of the halves while she began writing on the other one. Paul watched with a pounding heart as she scratched out her phone number, and he began to do the same.

When they exchanged the papers, Paul examined the number she provided him, and then read the name she printed above it, a smiley face drawn next to it. he tried his best to concealing his excitement within.

"Y/n..." he mumbled thoughtfully, eyes casting back up to look at her. She laughed a little as she flipped the paper in her hand to show Paul, which only contained his phone number.

"That's me, but what am I to call you, exactly?"

This is where Paul found himself in another dilemma. He wanted her to call him Paul, but he also didn't want her putting two and two together if she recognized his name. He didn't want to entirely lie to her, either.

That's when a light bulb went off in his head. He realized the greatest loophole, and solution was staring him right in the face.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Paul reached for the paper again, scribbling his name at the top. But he wasn't using 'Paul'; he decided he was going to use his real first name.

"You can call me James," he explained, handing the paper back to her. She surveyed the name at the top of the paper before looking back up to him.

"Finally, a name to a face," she hummed in content. She then offered a hand out to Paul, to which he took so they could shake and say their farewells.

"It was an absolute pleasure meeting you, James."

It was the first time in a very long time Paul had been called that by anyone. He figured he would have hated the sound of it leaving her lips, but instead, it made his heart flutter. His face felt hot again, and it was apparent y/n could see the flush of his skin, because she smirked a little.

"The pleasure is all mine, Y/n. Please be safe." He finally let go of her hand, waving good bye as she did so as well, turning on her heel once again, and heading to the counter with her books to sign them out.

She slid Paul's phone number into her notebook as she walked away, and Paul just stood there for another moment as he watched her leave. He was was still feeling so many emotions now that he was alone, unable to help himself reaching back down to the piece of paper she gave him. He ran his fingers over her name and smiled a little to himself.

"Y/n..." her name was like a breath of fresh air to him. When he looked back up to catch one more glimpse of her, she was already gone. It made him feel a little empty, but when he noticed she left the black mushroom book for him, he felt just a little warmer inside.

Paul reached for the book, sliding her number into the pages, and deciding he was going to sign it out and try to learn a little on the subject. If they ever planned to meet in the future, he could try and impress her with some of the information he learned.

He didn't end up getting what he was looking for at the library, but he felt he was leaving with something he needed.

-----------------------------------------------------------

A/A/N: Okay, I hope yous enjoyed that! Part 2 will happen as long as I have people requesting it. I have ideas, I'm just missing supporters<3

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[pookietv]

the not-so-useless hotline | george clarke

this has been rotting in my drafts for a while but it was a req so i hope you enjoy! may be a little sucky, sorry about that :)

dedicated to both the nonnie who requested and the nonnie who was adorable to me in dms so!!!!

to be honest, you didn't even really know what you had become well known for.

you started on youtube, ended up singing and modelling and vlogging and god knows what else, and you were a little bit of a mystery to the world.

but, nonetheless you had become adored by the internet, and eventually dragged on a podcast by max, who you had met on a brand trip and had grown to quite like, even if you had only seen him a handful of times.

so when you showed up to a little office with worn out computers and a smile on max's face, it did make you giggle to be on the set that you had seen him, and george, who even though you had seen him a lot online, you admittedly knew next to nothing about.

"y/n! hello, welcome!" you were invited in by who you assumed was a manager, who helped you get microphoned up, staying quiet whilst you listened to max and george speak and introduce the podcast whilst you waited on the sidelines for being introduced.

so when you heard the, "okay, send her up for the interview!" and you sat opposite them, your cheeks were a little red from laughing as it felt strange to be sat opposite them in such a corporate setting, even if was all a big joke.

"welcome y/n to your interview at the useless hotline! i'm max, this is george, very important interview today," max joked, and you nodded a little more, laughing and repeating, "very important, yes."

"yeah, i'm so glad to be here, i really need this job!" you joked back, allowing yourself to have a moment looking at george, being your first proper time meeting him. he was quite attractive, put together nicely.

"well, we have very high standards here, although max doesn't reflect that too well," george joked back, and you nodded in a teasingly solemn look.

"well, every company has it's stinker, and i suppose here it's max," you smiled, and max rolled his eyes.

"you bitch! haven't even introduced yourself and you're already mocking me," max grinned.

"oh, sorry, i introduce myself and then mock you?" you teased back.

after being made to make max and george extremely potent alcoholic drinks, and introducing yourself, with a little gossip about music and max's social life, eventually you get questions thrown your way.

"well, we figured we need to talk to you about your dating life, 'cause that's where our clickbait will be," george joked.

"literally! everyone knows you as some maneating mysterious woman going on dates all the time, and we're nosy," max teased, and you rolled your eyes in response.

"i'm not a maneater! jesus, you leave a bad impression max! i would just say i am very picky, that's all. y'know, high standards." you hummed a little as you drank your drink with a small grin.

"oh, come on, you know yourself there has been a cast of rotating rumours of people that the internet thought you might be dating," max urged, and you shrugged a little. "plus, when we went on that bar thing on the latest brand trip you told me about a few of them, so there must be some drama there!" he joked a little more.

"men are just very disappointing creatures, you know? there just hasn't really been one where i've been like, yeah, this person is fun to be around and i would like to be around them a lot of the time, so i'm still single!" i explained with a giggle.

"george is literally always saying something of a similar tune, he is kind of just a picky man," max joked a little, and i grinned and raised my eyebrows at george.

"picky, hm? i suppose i'm a little picky, but i don't think that's necessarily bad, i just think i would love to hold out for someone who is really for me, you know?" i asked him curiously.

"i wouldn't even say i'm picky, i just think... there's a kind of thing, where i'll, you know, find someone where i'm just like, yeah, this feels right," george explained, and i nodded.

"so do you have like.. a type?" max asked me, "george's type always seems to be women who don't like him back." max teased.

"there have definitely been some stinkers in the past but... i mean, i wouldn't even say i have a type, really. i like funny people, and i'd like someone that's taller then me... um, i guess i like facial hair but that's not a dealbreaker if not," i laughed a little awkwardly with a shrug of my shoulders.

"well, i'd say you'd like george but he is exceptionally not funny," max grinned to himself and i rolled my eyes in a giggly way, watching george turn to max.

"because you're just so witty yourself, max,"

the podcast continued, with topics only getting more intrusive and unhinged as we continued, before we got to the point where we were answering asks, and one came up asking george on a date as a plus one to a wedding.

"fuck you! see, everyone comes on the podcast and thirsts over george, but what if you had asked me? i would actually have shown up, how about that!" max huffed whilst george tried not to laugh.

"what, people try and hit on george through the podcast?" you asked, laughing myself.

"yeah, they do, his name is max balegde," george joked.

"they're really scraping the bottom of the barrel if they want george," max grinned, before looking at me, "do you get a lot of the whole randomers asking you out thing? seeing as you're so thirsted over on the internet?"

"i mean, i suppose so, but i don't read too many of them, they just stay in the requests bit of my messages so i don't pay them too much attention," you giggled slightly, shrugging, "though, i do appreciate the compliments, sometimes if i'm just having a really crap day i'll just look through edits of myself. is that narcissistic? maybe it is, but it does make you feel good,"

"max was begging people to make edits of him on one of the podcast episodes so i'm sure you're not too bad," george grinned to you, and you tittered a little at his answer, grinning back at him.

george was pretty attractive, actually.

it had been about a week since the episode of you on the useless hotline had come out: and to say you had been bombarded would be an understatement.

from shipping fan edits to insane tweets, there seemed to be a common theme, the theory that you were dating george.

he had texted you a little, talking about when the podcast was going to come out, and asking you if you had any plans over the weekend, mainly casual talk as he told you funny stories about his roommates, arthur and chris, and occasionally sending you photos of himself pulling faces.

liked by max_balegde, georgeclarkeey and 12,039 others

yourusername: my roommate tried to push me out of a window (but i made her take cute pictures so)

miaxmon: shut up i did not push you!

↳ yourusername: @/miaxmon whatever you say PUSHER

userone: since WHEN did she live with mia ???

↳ yourusername: since she begged me to live with her bc im awesome and sexy and she couldn't live without me (but actually for about six months!)

georgeclarkeey: she should have finished the job

↳ yourusername: smh silly george if she pushed me out the window then who else would the internet ship you with???

↳ georgeclarkeey: someone tolerable hopefully

↳ yourusername: i can see why you got stood up now

you have a new message from @/georgeclarkeey!

georgeclarkeey: now that was just cruel and uncalled for

yourusername: it was honesty which girl would show up for a date with you ???

georgeclarkeey: you hopefully

yourusername: you what???

georgeclarkeey: would you show up on a date with me?

yourusername: only if you said sorry for wanting mia to finish me off and that i am the best :)

georgeclarkeey: i just audibly sighed

georgeclarkeey: you are the best and i am sorry for saying i wanted mia to finish the job

georgeclarkeey: happy?

yourusername: absolutely

yourusername: so, a date?

georgeclarkeey: i was thinking a really tall building with loads of open windows. thoughts?

yourusername: you're sooooo funny george

georgeclarkeey: i know i know i'm hilarious

georgeclarkeey: i was actually thinking we could go to flight club and play darts

yourusername: i will beat you SO bad

georgeclarkeey: can't wait :)

yourusername: anyway, i thought you were really picky about who you go on dates with?

georgeclarkeey: i usually am

georgeclarkeey: i guess you just feel right

yourusername: are you this soppy with all your dates?

georgeclarkeey: well they usually don't show up so you'll be the first, obviously

georgeclarkeey: anyway i thought you were picky as well?

yourusername: okay shut up now george :)

[qatarsprint2023]

Hi im shamelessly in love with Oscar so how about Oscar x reader, where the reader gets really overwhelmed and Oscar helps calm her down!!!

I really liked writing this because I've been getting so many Lando requests and I'm not even that big of a Lando girl (I'm sorry!) I'm not quite sure if you meant it like this or more like a meltdown overwhelmed, but I hope you enjoy anyways <3

That overwhelming world of his — OP81

Oscar takes his girlfriend to an official event for the first time and she gets overwhelmed from how it all works — Oscar Piastri x f!reader, comfort, fluff, no use of y/n, Oscar being a sweetheart, reader has social anxiety, body image issues word count: ca. 1.3k

Being with Oscar also required being okay with the fame and spotlight that came with dating an athlete in the most prestigious category of motorsports— Formula One.

You adored watching your boyfriend race— even more when he had a good result, but you were always there for him, comforting and holding and reassuring him when he didn't do quite as well, too.

Today was the day Oscar had been looking forward to with excitement for at least a month now. He was going to be awarded his second Rookie of the Year award at the FIA prize giving tonight. He had received his first one in 2021 when he was still a rookie in F2 and not driving for one of the most prestigious teams in Formula One.

However this year was the first time he'd bring you as his date because unfortunately you'd been way too busy with working to get your degree to even take a few days off for his first award. You didn't usually go to these kinds of events with Oscar. It wasn't like you needed to be attached at the hip to still be a loving couple with a healthy relationship. He could do things without you and you could do things without him.

That didn't mean that you didn't care about the other's career, though. In fact, it was quite the opposite actually. Oscar had instantly been one of your biggest supporters when you'd finally decided on what you wanted to study. Your boyfriend had helped you through exams and countless late night study sessions, just like you'd always supported his passion for racing through highs and lows.

Now this was different. Today you'd spent hours getting ready. Redoing your hair and make-up over and over again, criticizing your appearance in the mirror until you looked presentable. Getting dressed had been even worse. One dress you tried just looked like a potato sack on you, the next had you picking and pinching the fabric in front of the full length mirror in the bedroom with a scrutinizing gaze.

Oscar had been a silent presence in the doorway as he watched you stare at yourself like that until he'd slowly gone and hugged you gently, hoping it would make you feel better about whatever your mind was telling you. Then he'd taken the decision problem off your hands by looking at the dresses in your closet for about a minute and then taking out a very nice dress with navy blue fabric and pretty embroidered flowers. Eventually you'd just gone with that one, knowing you couldn't spend hours trying to fix what didn't really need to be fixed.

The ride in the car afterwards was tense and quiet as your mind wandered. Oscar mentally prepared himself to receive his award while you kept bouncing your leg and picking at your nails. That was until Oscar just took your hand in his and gently let his thumb draw small circles into the skin there, whispering a soft "You'll do great," as he kept one hand on the steering wheel.

When you arrived at the venue, Oscar got out first and walked around to open your car door for you like a real gentleman. As you stepped out of the car, you were both instantly caught in the flickering flashlights of cameras to each side of the entrance and calls of "Oscar! Oscar, here!" from photographers who hoped to catch your boyfriend smiling at their camera.

The onslaught of flashing lights and clamoring voices overwhelmed your senses, made your heart speed up and your mouth go dry as your eyes darted all around. It felt like stepping into a whirlwind of attention and scrutiny, each flash of a camera a reminder of Oscar's world—a world where every move was watched, every word dissected.

You clung to Oscar's hand like a lifeline, trying to navigate the sea of people and paparazzi, your heart pounding like it wanted to run away. Each click that came from the cameras around seemed like a spotlight on every single one of your insecurities, leaving them out for everyone to see and judge.

Your grip on your boyfriend's hand tightened as you felt your breathing speed up a little, seeking solace in the familiar warmth of his skin. He seemed to sense your unease and pulled you a little closer, shielding you from the chaotic scene around. His touch offered reassurance as he guided you through the maze of photographers and flashing lights. The voices calling out faded into the background as he whispered a tender, "I've got you."

As you entered the venue, the atmosphere shifted from the outside frenzy to a more controlled chaos within. The air was thick with anticipation and the buzz of conversations. Oscar led you towards the event hall, his hand a steady anchor in the overwhelming current.

You caught glimpses of familiar faces, fellow drivers and their partners, all effortlessly navigating this world that felt like an alien landscape to you. The weight of inadequacy pressed upon your shoulders, and you couldn't shake the feeling of being an outsider in this world of glamour.

You could feel eyes on you and the pressure seemed almost suffocating. You knew you didn't have that model look the girls that dated Oscar's fellow drivers had, and you'd never really thought of that as something too bad, however surrounded by people who looked so perfect, so unreal, you felt so wrong.

As you took your seats, the crowd's buzz continued, but Oscar's focus remained on you as you started bouncing your leg under the table, your fingers subconsciously picking at your dress' fabric just like earlier in front of the mirror. Leaning in, he murmured, "I'm here. Just be yourself, okay? I'm happy to have you here with me, you know that?"

You gave a short nod in reply, however still kept your fingers intertwined with his under the table as he made conversation with the woman in the seat beside him. His hand felt so warm and reassuring, his skin slightly calloused from years of hard training for a very demanding sport.

Throughout the ceremony, Oscar's gaze periodically met yours, silently offering encouragement through his honey brown eyes, telling you that you were allowed to be here just as much as everyone else. When the moment arrived for him to accept the award, he gave your hand a quick squeeze before stepping onto the stage with a big smile on his face as applause and cheers echoed through the hall. You'd never felt more proud.

After the accolades subsided and the night unfolded, Oscar made a conscious effort to ensure you felt included despite obviously being confused by everything, introducing you to fellow racers and their partners.

A little later in the evening, when people had almost forgotten about the actual reason they were even here, Oscar guided you to a more quiet corner, away from the prying eyes. The genuine concern in his eyes mirrored the unspoken understanding between you. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle and filled with sincerity.

"It's so overwhelming," you muttered quietly. "There are so many people, so many cameras, the noise... It feels so wrong to be here."

"Hey, don't do that," he scolded you softly, taking your hands in his. "You're allowed here just as much as me. Take a deep breath, okay? We're a team right?"

"Right," you replied with a nod and drew in a shaky breath.

"You're doing wonderful, don't worry. I know you get anxious around so many people, so many eyes," your boyfriend told you in a soft tone of voice and gently pulled you close, brushing his lips against your temple. "I'm just happy you came with me, sweetheart."

In that moment, as Oscar's words wrapped around you like a comforting embrace, you realized that even in the whirlwind of this foreign world, he cherished you and all the love and support you brought into his life.

[russellsppttemplates]

HALLO!! I had some ideaa, were reader is really really shy and quiet. But when it comes to a certain topic (like space, historic events or something) she gets so excited and chatty. Perhaps with Max?

I've been binge reading your fics lmao I love them!

Note: this is so kind of you to say, thank you! 🤍🫶 hopefully you'll enjoy this one too!

"This is Fred, he will be the one guiding you through the exhibition", one of the team partners greeted you and Max before directing you to follow another man.

"I'm Fred, and we're very happy you decided to come to this exhibition - I know you both really enjoy learning about these things and hopefully we can show a couple more interesting things", he smiled, allowing you to step into the first room.

Even though you preferred to stay on the side lines and would happily stay home whenever Max had some event he couldn't bring you with him, this one caught your eye and accepting the invitation wasn't something your boyfriend had to spend a great deal of time convincing you to do.

"This first room is all about the beggining of the first engine, how it was developed to then accommodate the first car and how it evolved from there - for you, Max, I'm sure you're used to the best technology out there", Fred showed you around, pointing out different facts and even showing you some detailed written notes of calculations and measures.

"This is more up your street, isn't it?", Max said as you payed attention to the writing on the book, knowing it was something you definitely wanted to spend more time on.

You nodded immediately, flashing him a big smile and carrying on with your analysis. You were on the shy side of the spectrum, happily tagging along anywhere but needing to stay quiet or speak briefly since full on interactions would empty your social battery quickly and you'd need days to recharge it back to normal. It wasn't something you did out of rudeness - you always remained polite -, but more in the way you knew your limits and how to protect yourself.

"Next up, we have the space rooms", Fred carried on once you read all of the details you wanted to, "this is a new series of rooms that have been added to the exhibition", he walked you through.

"Here we have some of the notes written and worked on by Max Valier and Friedrich Wilhelm Sander for the rocket car Opel RAK1 in Germany - let me just check on the year here", he looked for it.

"It was 1928 - they did it on the Opel raceway in Rüsselsheim, Germany, and the RAK2 rocket car was at the AVUS speedway in Berlin", you said, knowing that bit of information yourself.

"Oh, I didn't know you knew that - any special interest?", Fred asked as Max smiled, knowing you were about to go on and on about something you enjoyed.

"I have a very particular interest in WWII and as I got older, I always wanted to known how things worked and how they found out about the right way to do things - I'm an engineer because of it, and rocketships always interest me. Their work at Opel was very important in the development of Eugen Sänger's work for the space planes - do you have any of those notebooks? I'd love to look at them", you spoke for the first time since the exhibition started, you and Fred quickly getting into depths of all the topics you loved as Max watched you two interact.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[unabashegirl]

Different 15 — college hs

Harry's quiet, routine-driven life changes one weekend when he meets Y/N through a mutual friend at her party. She comes from a superficial, materialistic world with absent parents who believe money solves everything. Despite their differences, something clicks that night, and Y/N can't stop thinking about him.

Author's note: Hello everyone! I hope you are all doing well! Here is a new chapter of Different. Here are a few things I would like you to know!

I'm trying to come up with new ideas for one shots. Pls vote! Especially if you are subscribed to Patreon! Help Decide the Next One-Shot!

I'm still trying to gather the money to continue my journey to medical school in January. I've only gotten 1% of my goal. I'll leave the link here in case you would like or are able to help me. Please I am desperate! 🥺 https://ko-fi.com/mariabernal8706

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to the rest of the chapters, various one shots and much more :)

--> different masterlist <--

WARNINGS: mentions of sexual abuse and violence.

Harry found it weird that so many people at the university knew about her. He hated that they knew her for the wrong reasons.

“Styles!” Ezra Hart called out to Harry as he had just walked out of the classroom. Harry was going to make his way to the pool, wanting to blow off some steam before meeting up with Y/N later.

“What do you want?” Harry asked dryly. He never stood up to Ezra’s constant condescending comments. Ezra chuckled and smiled at his friends that stood with him.

To Ezra, everything was a big game. He was kind of surprised that Harry had responded to him in that sort of tone. He enjoyed pushing Harry’s buttons. It was fun.

“How is your girlfriend?” He decided to brush off his rude tone. He wanted to know how he had managed to catch the attention of Y/N.

“Who?” Harry frowned as he took a few more steps closer to him.

“Her” Ezra showed him Y/N’s Instagram account where she had uploaded a lovely picture that Sarah had taken of them. It was a picture of them on the train, as he was about to kiss her. It was the first picture that she had ever uploaded of them. Harry’s heart felt like it was about to explode. He felt all fuzzy inside and giddy. As opposed to other men, he felt incredibly happy to be shown off on his girlfriend’s social media. It also meant that she wasn’t embarrassed of him or to be seen with him.

“That’s you, right?” He asked again, capturing Harry’s attention again.

“Yeah,” He confirmed proudly. “That's my girlfriend.”

“Congratulations. You’ve finally grown up” He joked, “Now. Tell me. How is the sex? Good? Is she as good as everyone says? Or bad?” He smirked, “Because after all she has been with multiple other men,” Harry clenched his jaw which didn’t go unnoticed by Ezra, who could tell that he was pushing the right buttons. “How does it feel to have the leftovers from everyone in Chicago?” Ezra laughed.

Harry was never able to remember how everything in the following seconds unfolded. He just remembered coming back to his senses and finding himself on top of Ezra after his fist had already come down on his face a few times.

Mitch had been walking past that all when he had noticed that people were gathered. Him being very noisy, he approached to check it out, come to find out that it was his best friend. Mitch was quick to pull him off Ezra, not wanting Harry to get in any sort of trouble.

“Don’t you ever fuckin’ talk about her!” He yelled as Mitch tried to drag him off the scene. “You twat!” he said under his breath just as he picked up his bag and left.

No one could believe what had just happened. People hadn’t gotten involved because no one thought that Harry was capable to fight with someone. People knew him to be very serene and quiet, and today he had proven a point. Harry had proven to everyone that he was more than capable of fighting for the people that he cared for, and he wasn’t going to be pushed around anymore.

“What the fuck?” Mitch exclaimed as they walked out of the building. “What happened? Breath, Harry” He patted his back, hoping that the chilly wind would calm him down. His hands were shaking as he ran them through his hair.

“Who the fuck does he think he is?” Harry whispered as his eyes filled with tears. He was filled with rage and just wanted to go back and finish what he had started. He was tired of feeling so helpless and powerless. Mitch looked at him with concern and didn’t know what to tell him or how to call him down. He had never seen him such as.

“Should I call Y/N?”

“No!” Harry stopped walking, “Please don’t tell her” He sniffed as he tried to stop the need to cry out of anger. “Just give me a few minutes.” Mitch allowed Harry some minutes of utter silence as they walked in the direction of the athletic center. “I am sorry,” he said as they stopped in front of the building.

“What are you apologizing to me for?” Mitch chuckled, “I am just sad you didn’t break his nose sooner” He joked, earning a small smile from Harry. “Proud of you for standing up for yourself and her”.

“I am just going to blow off some steam and do a few laps before Y/N gets here.”

“Is she picking you up?” Mitch asked him not wanting to leave him alone in case Ezra’s friends came looking for him.

“Yeah, in an hour or so”

“Alright. I’ll see you. Text me if anything” Mitch called out the building’s door closed behind Harry.

Y/N arrived an hour and twenty minutes later. She pulled over outside the building and waited patiently until he died off and threw on some clothes. She hadn’t had class all day, so she wore sweatpants and a hoodie. Y/N had just left the apartment to pick him up. She had been in bed all day sleeping. She had been having nightmares that involved Brian. They had woken her up multiple times at night and had made her night a living hell.

As soon as her eyes landed on him, she knew that something was wrong. She could see it. He was in much discomfort as he walked up to the car.

“Hi,” She smiled at him as he got into the car. Harry kept his head down and gave her a weak smile. Y/N frowned and started to drive toward her apartment. She didn’t push him knowing that whatever had happened, it had affected him. She drove quite quickly and was soon enough parking. “What happened?” Y/N finally asked when the elevator doors had closed.

“Nothin” Harry shook his head at her. He wasn’t proud of what he had done. He wasn’t the kind of man that gloated after a physical altercation. He had been feeling very guilty to have resorted to fists. So, Y/N took the cue and instead of asking again, she walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his torso.

“Sorry, I didn’t make the bed” She sheepishly said as they walked straight into her bedroom after taking off their shoes at the entrance and dropping the bags at the door. “I’ve been having a lazy day” she explained, “Last night, I didn’t catch much sleep”.

Harry nodded and helped her to make the bed in utter silence. He threw himself on it as soon as Y/N disappeared to the kitchen. He closed his eyes for a second as he went over everything that had happened earlier. He was exhausted. The swimming had drained the last bit of energy that he had.

“What are you doing?” He asked as she felt her cold fingers on the hem of his shirt. “I - I’m not in the mood”.

“Just shut up” She demanded as she started to undress him. Y/N pulled him into the bathroom where she had prepared him a bath. She wanted him to relax and get the chlorine smell off his skin and hair. “Get in” she encouraged him. “See? Not everything is sex” Y/N pointed out before turning to leave.

“You are not coming in?” He asked as he soaked his body up to his chin with hot water.

“This is meant for you” Y/N smiled, “Let me just do something and I’ll be right back.”

Harry sat in the warm water, enjoying the sensation of relief and the smell of eucalyptus that the water had.

“Here” She had prepared him a cup of tea using her favorite cup that had pigs on them. “I’ve never made tea before, but I hope it’s drinkable” Y/N explained nervously as she sat on the floor by the edge of the tub. She rested her chin on the edge of the tub and smiled at him. “Is it okay?”.

“I’ve had worst” Harry smiled, feeling cared for and thankful to have her in his life.

“Now. Let’s see those hands” Y/N had brought out the first aid kid after noticing that the skin over his knuckles had opened without much dialogue, she had figured out that he had gotten in a fight with someone. Although she was concerned, she wasn’t going to push him or interrogate him.

“We need to talk.”

“What do you want to know?” She asked as she used hydrogen peroxide to clean his knuckles.

“Everything”

“Our freshman and sophomore year is a big blur to all of us” Referring to James and Sebastian in us. “We partied and drank until we couldn’t remember who we were and regretted it the morning after” Y/N shrugged, “and like most privileged kids spent our time traveling, spending money on unnecessary things.” She chuckled, “Not my proudest moment” Y/N regretted it every day and even though all those experiences had made her closer to James and Sebastian.

“I met Brian my sophomore year. I found him very charming, and he was in the same social circle as us, so we clicked. Plus, he was very nice to me.” Things hadn’t been that bad at the beginning which was why she had never seen it coming. “What an idiot” she shook her head in disbelief. “Everything carried on well for a year and a few months. There was a huge party at the end of junior year. I don’t know if you heard of it, but it was at the home of this new kid who lived on the Magnificent Mile” Y/N decided not to wrap his hand, so she was done tending to his wounds very quickly. “We met up with Brian at the party. James and Sebastian had gone with me. By the time we found him, Brian was already drunk. He and I went upstairs after I persuaded him to take a nap and drink some water. The issue was that he wasn’t just drunk. He had also taken something else” Y/N paused and fiddled with her fingers as she tried to gather up the correct words. “I don’t remember what led to it, but we started arguing back and forth and he suddenly got very violent and attempted to abuse me after I refused. Thankfully, James busted in before anything else could happen. I’ve never seen him angrier. It was punch after punch. Sebastian ripped them apart before he killed him” Y/N wiped her tears, “We hid at home for a week before flying out to Spain where we detoxed ourselves from all the shit that we had put our bodies and mind through.”

Harry was shocked. He couldn’t believe what he had just heard. He had thought that things were less complicated, and it had been a cheating incident something more benign.

“I never told anyone else because no one would believe me. I had been sleeping around before Brian and he could have used that excuse. I kept it to myself and asked the boys to do so too. I just wanted all of us to forget about the whole thing and enjoy the last year. I wanted things to go back to normal. Come to think of it was very selfish of me to ask them to forget about it as quickly as they did and not let them process everything at their own pace”. Y/N exhaled loudly as Harry leaned over and placed the cup of tea on the counter. “And now you know”.

Harry leaned over and gripped her chin, forcing their eyes to meet.

“I would’ve” He whispered to her, “I would’ve believed you.” Harry pressed their foreheads, “I believe you” he repeated just before he kissed her.

-> Chapter 16

[insomniac-dot-ink]

2025 Anticipated Book Releases

My reading goal for this year is the same for last year in that I want to read 70 books! And hopefully a few more nonfiction, as always. BUT my main 2025 New Years Resolution for reading is to read less broadly. I read very broadly last year which was good, but it kind of made me sad in the sense I wasn't reading as many books that are "for me." So! More fantasy this year.

January

Water Moon by Samantha Sotto Yambao (Jan 14th): Set in a pawnshop where people can sell their regrets and past choices. I am always a sucker for a slower magical realism story when done well.

Breath of the Dragon by Fonda Lee and Shannon Lee (Jan 7th): I usually strictly avoid YA at this point but adore Fonda Lee so I'll be reading everything she writes. This is an Asian-inspired fantasy work with dragons.

The Good Mother Myth: Unlearning Our Bad Ideas About How to Be a Good Mom by Nancy Reddy (Jan 25): I am always drawn to gender dynamics that are a little more invisible and have thought there is some absurdity to the idea it's "always the mother's fault." A nonfiction on socially constructed motherhood.

February

A Drop of Corruption by Robert Jackson Bennett (Feb 6th): !!! Probably my most anticipated read. The Tainted Cup was such a breath of fresh air in fantasy last year and the combination of epic fantasy and fun characters was perfect for me personally. This should me another murder mystery and I can't wait.

Emily Wilde's Compendium of Lost Tales (Emily Wilde 3) by Heather Fawcett (Feb 11th): I have already read this since I got an ARC but I did adore the ending! This installment started quiet slowly but ended on a much more high fantasy note than I expected in a good way.

March

Everything is Tuberculosis by John Green (March 18): I was surprised by how much I enjoyed John Green's nonfiction essay collection since I found his fiction a little rote. But his essay collection had a bittersweet thoughtfulness I really appreciated. As such, I am very interested in his next nonfiction work.

April

Great Big Beautiful Life by Emily Henry (April 25th): I am among the masses that have followed Emily Henry ever since I read "Book Lovers" and discovered her dialogue. Her work can get a little repetitive after a point, but this had such an interesting premise of two writers competing to write the biography of a reclusive famous author. I'm seated.

Authority by Andrea Long Chu (April 8th): An essay collection on the nature of authority in a world where "everyone thinks they know everything." I am fascinated by this topic.

May

My Friends by Fredrik Backman

Fredrik Backman is one of my authors. I read A Man Called Ove at such a challenging time in my life that it hit like a freight train and I've been following Backman's work ever since. I love when things hurt nicely--and a book about friendship from Backman? I am ready to hurt nicely.

OTHERS

Hemlock and Silver by T Kingfisher, a Snow White retelling (!!! another one of my authors, I adore Kingfisher)

Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil by Victoria E. Schwab (I've always been lukewarm on Schwab, but toxic lesbian vampires has my damn ears perked)

You Didn't Hear This From Me: (Mostly) True Notes on Gossip by Kelsey McKinney (I LOVE the Normal Gossip podcast and will be here for this)

------------

If there are any books you think I'll like, lmk! I'm always on the look out for stuff like Jade City or Naomi Novik's work.

[sparrowrye]

Alastor x Fem! Reader {soulmate au} Part 4

Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies, you die too. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes.

Part 4: Hidden Past

Part Pilot | Part 2 | Part 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"There's something strange about her." Alastor stood in front of the fire, staring into the hot flames. His eyes jumped up to the picture of him and his mother. "When I touch her, there's something...there."

"What do you mean?" Husker asked from his corner of the room.

"I mean there's some sort of blockage. She doesn't seem like she knows much about mind magic so it's not as if she's purposefully blocking me." He scraped his claw against the mantle piece with the ridge of the wood.

"And? What about it?" Husker fell into the couch with his wings outstretched. He stretched out all his limbs and stuck out his tongue in a yawn.

"I want to know what it is. I have a strong feeling that this blockage isn't of her own doing."

"You think someone cursed her?" Husker asked. "I wouldn't be surprised considering the ring fights and all."

“There's a strong chance she is," Alastor turned to face him, "but what is that curse doing? I believe it's putting constraints on her magic and hiding something a bit more powerful."

Husker was quiet for a long minute. Alastor stood silently with his smile as he waited for his friend and servant to connect the dots. When Husker did, his eyes widened and he sat straight up. "You think she's a demon?"

“There's a good probability." Alastor rested his hands on his cane. "After all, when have you ever heard of a demon and human being soulmates?"

"I'm not so sure.” Husker uncurled his claws to count. "Her aura isn't very strong, her magic is consistent with those with a Slight Hand, and she still looks like a human when she's asleep either naturally or by drugs."

"Indeed those are all good points." Alastor appeared beside him. "But a curse can be strong, especially if done by someone with a lot of power. They might have tried to hide the fact that she's a demon. She clearly doesn't know herself so it might've been done when she was very young."

"So...now what? How do you expect to find out if she's a demon or not? Even you can't undo a curse and we don't know who cursed her."

"I have someone who might be able to help." Alastor went back to the mantle and stared at the small clock. "After all, it is possible for someone to un-curse themselves."

"I've never heard of anyone doing that."

"Well, my good friend, you don't exactly travel and socialize very much."

"I'm quite happy with my life. Except when I have to deal with you."

Alastor laughed as he turned on his heels. "Well, you see, a curse is something that has to do with the mind. There's no actual physical restraint. A curse makes your mind think a certain way and your body follows your mind. It's quite simple really."

"Why would you want her to discover that side of her?" Husker questioned. "I thought you said a soulmate is a burden and a handicap."

"Not if she's got more power than we think. She already knows how to fight with such little magic, I can only imagine what she could do with all the rest of it."

"Is it smart to do that now? We don't know what kind of demon she is."

"It's nothing I can't handle," Alastor pressed his hand to his chest, "don't worry Husker. A demon in training is no match for me."

Husker hummed disapprovingly. "So who's the someone you know?"

"An old friend of mine. I'll need to bring her a piece offering when we go."

Husker sighed and raked his paw down his face. "Do I have to kill it?"

"I think you ought to socialize some, Husker," Alastor laughed.

****

I stayed in bed for days. I barely came downstairs for meals that Husker managed to put together and my only concept of passing time was when Husker came up to see if I was still here. I slept away my feelings and stared off into the vast sea outside my window. I didn't know what to do with my life now. I was stuck in an old house with two Full mages, one of which I was soul-bound to and despised.

Husker managed to coax me into eating dinner with him every night. We didn't speak as we ate by a meager single lamp on the table. Maybe I would try fixing up bits of the ancient house. Husker had fixed part of the kitchen so there was running electricity and new tiles on the floor.

"Maybe you should start sulking out on the porch," Husker said one evening during dinner.

I looked up. "What do you care?"

He shrugged. "Just trying to help. Sulking in a dust-filled house isn't exactly great for your health. At least outside you'll get some sun and fresh air. And...if you want to talk to someone..." he glanced over at me, "I'm always an open ear."

"Sure you are." I put my fork down. "I'm sure you'd love to hear me complain about your master."

"Don't call him that," he growled, "But surprisingly, yes I would. I'm not exactly choosing to be under his service."

The next day I took him up on his offer. I brought my book down with me and sat quietly in the chair. I read and he stared off into the distance drinking his bottle of something. I wanted to ask him questions more than I wanted to reveal my own past.

"So..." I cleared my throat. His ear twitched at the noise and he leaned back in the chair. "Can I ask how you came under Alastor’s service?"

"No."

"Can I ask anything about you?"

"Maybe." He shrugged with a smile.

"Here's one, then. Where the hell do you-" I was cut short as Alastor manifested in between us, red eyes locked on me. I looked down at the book with a stark, "What do you want?"

"I have someone I'd like to introduce you to," he looked over his shoulder at Husker, "and you will come along, too."

"Why?" I still didn't look up at him. Husker disappeared into the house, leaving me alone with the mage.

"She's someone I think you would absolutely adore."

"But why?" I finally met his terrifying eyes and ugly smile.

"Oh I think you'll find out when you meet her." He held out his hand for me to take but I denied it, standing up on my own and leaving the book on the chair. He leaned on his cane as Husker came out carrying two large trash bags. Alastor led the way off the porch, to the side of the house, and to the edge of the cliff. I noticed a scorched symbol in the earth beneath Alastor's feet.

He put an arm around Husker's shoulders and one around mine. The transition took longer this time. The wind was slow to pick up and the ground to disappear. I glanced over at Husker who's fur was sticking up all over and his lips pulled back in a snarl. I kept my eyes open the whole time. The house melted into a single dark color before turning into a crimson red. It went through a range of colors before it slowly cleared into a town.

"Hold on tight will you Husker," Alastor said as he let go of both of us. Husker growled like an angry cat and eyed the people walking past. I suddenly noticed that the people looked very different than normal. Their skin was pale and their mouths were drooping open into a block hole.

"Where the hell are we?" I asked.

"Just follow Al." Husker gently nudged me forward and I quickened my pace to follow close behind Alastor. It seemed like something out of a terrifying cartoon. The colors were all pale creams, pinks, and browns that their residents matched in their outfits. Speaking of which, all their outfits seemed incredibly out of date, as if from the Victorian Era.

We walked through the town, surprisingly filled with children running about with the same horror stricken faces, until we came to a certain building. The sign out front read: Rosie's Emporium. Alastor held the door open and I walked in with a casted glare up at him. Inside was busy and crowded with more of these terrifying people. It wasn't until I was close enough that I realized they had incredibly sharp teeth.

Alastor walked past me and the crowd practically parted like the red sea for him. I stayed close on his tail, ensuring that Husker was also close behind me. He seemed as grumpy as ever but his eyes jumped around like crazy. He was watching for something.

"I should've known you'd be right on time," a voice said. A tall, scary-looking woman came up to the small group. "How have you been Alastor, dear? Eating well?" She clung to his arm and gave him a polite pat on the back.

"Not as well as you will tonight." He gestured to the two bags Husker was carrying.

She put a hand over her toothy smile and laughed. "You're such a gentleman, as always. You didn't need to bring me anything."

"Well with the favor I'm about to ask, I figured you deserved it."

"And what favor is that?" she asked, making eye contact with me as she did.

"We need you to look a little deep," he replied.

"Ooooh, this sounds interesting. Hello dear," she grabbed my hand and shook it, "my name is Rosie. It's a pleasure to be meeting you." I smiled and introduced myself.

"It would be best to have our meeting in private," Alastor said discreetly.

"Oh of course. And we'll take those heavy bags off your hands." Two people appeared and took the trash bags from Husker, who seemed more than happy to pass them off. Rosie led us into a room off to the side, away from the hustle and bustle of the store. "Now, take a seat lovely." She motioned to one of the large pink chairs. A small coffee table sat in between us. "Would you like any tea?"

I politely declined as I sat down. Alastor told her, "I'm hoping you'll look a little deeper into her magic, for me."

"Why?" I blurted out.

He ignored me. "A quick glance should tell you everything."

Rosie stood and asked for my hand. I looked for Husker who stood near the door, out of sight. The woman reassured me that she wouldn't eat my hand. So I slowly placed my hand in her cold, dry one and let her place her other one on top.

"My my," she said with eyes closed, "I see what you mean. There's something...blocking....not me, but her."

"I thought so," he mumbled.

"What does that mean?" I asked as I took my hand back. Rosie grabbed a stool and placed it next to my chair.

"It means there's something strange about your magic. Tell me, dear, are you a Full mage?"

"No."

"Hm. You may very well be if this blockage is what I think it is."

"Really?" I was more than willing to give my hand back to her when she asked for it.

"It's possible. But it looks like this is a type of curse."

"A curse?" I swallowed. I had heard horrible rumors of curses from Full mages. "Can you undo it?"

"Oh of course, darling, don't fret about it. Though it will take some time. It's an awfully strong curse." Her eyes stayed closed as she gently massaged my hand. I could see her eyes moving beneath her eyelids. "Say, tell me a little bit about yourself. Try to go as far back as you can remember. Auntie Rosie won't judge, I promise."

I looked down at our hands. It had been a long time since I tried to remember anything from when I was younger. "Well I...uh...I uh...I'm a--I was a ring fighter."

"Oh, what a horrible profession," she commented.

"Yeah. Not great. But uh...I've had various masters through the years. The longest was...the longest was a Full mage called Striker. He owned me all through my teenage-hood. It wasn't...fun."

"Poor thing. You've been through a lot." The motion of her hands were very hypnotic. I felt myself relaxing into the seat. "What about before him?"

"Before him was...um...another man. He wasn't very well known but he was the first master I managed to escape from." My eyes closed and I felt like I was truly visiting my memories. "But he was also the first master to treat me...well...nice-ish I guess."

"How so?"

"Well, he moved me to a larger cage and upgraded my food rations a few levels. I actually felt comfortable in my cage when I wasn't fighting or dealing with an injury."

"What about any masters before him?"

"I don't remember them very well. I was very young. But uh...they weren't nice. The first ring I can remember was small and not as well known. The cages were small and we were all cramped together like livestock."

"What was your first cage like?"

"Horrible. I could barely move and my legs went numb for hours." My spine was seething with pain in the cramped little cage. I couldn't move my legs and my hands pulled uselessly at the strong metal bars. "It was so horrible. I remember crying for hours until my voice was hoarse."

"You poor thing. What else do you remember about these cages?"

"I remember meeting my first friend there. He was my age. Our cages were right next to each other. The cages were slightly bigger this time. But they were still empty and cold. The boy would always reach out and we would hold hands just to keep warm. We managed to pull our cages close and huddled as close as we could. It was always so cold. And so dark. I could hear other kids crying for their parents or...just for anything other than this."

"What happened to the boy?" My throat closed. "It's okay dear. Take your time."

I looked into the boys eyes, a beautiful bright blue. He always wore a smile whenever I looked at him, even if he was sad. "He...he didn't survive one of his fights." I watched him being dragged out of his cage, hand outstretched for me, and shoved into the ring.

"Tell me what you're seeing, love. What's happening?"

I sniffled. "He...they didn't..." His master carried his body back from the ring and laid him on a black sheet, giving me a clear view. "His opponent decapitated him." The tears streamed down as his dead, horror stricken face stared back at me. His blue eyes were dull and cloudy.

"What did you do?"

"I screamed. I screamed and cried and threw magic all over the place. They ignored me and took him away. I kept screaming and crying until...until something hit me in the head." I paused to sniffle again. "I woke up the next day to see a girl in his cage. She...she didn't last her first fight." My sadness finally wrapped itself fully around me and I broke down. I couldn't stop replaying the boy's body in my head.

"Okay, okay, come back. Sweetheart, you're not actually there." I felt someone shaking my shoulders but I couldn't let go of the image. "Sweetheart, you're in my store. You're free from those fighting rings and I'm right here holding your hand. Blink twice and look up." I listened and found myself staring into her pitch-black eyes. "There we go, welcome back dear."

I let out a choked sigh and dropped my head. I froze. I was staring down at two sets of sharp claws. I let go and lifted my hand to my face. My nails had turned into razor sharp, black claws. My skin had turned black and stopped its infection halfway to my elbow.

"Looks like you're more than a Full mage, darling." Rosie grabbed a hand-mirror and gave it to me. I slowly lifted the object and stared at my own, unrecognizable reflection. My teeth had sharpened to a point and long, sharp fangs like a snake poked out of my lips. A set of black horns protruded from my forehead in the shape of a wave.

"Looks like you're a demon after all." I caught Alastor's reflection in the mirror staring over my shoulder.

"A what?" I looked up at him.

"My my, you didn't tell your own soulmate what a demon is?" Rosie remarked. She put her stool away and sat back on the other pink chair. "Well, who better to tell you our glorious history than me." I remained quiet, examining myself in the mirror repeatedly.

She cleared her throat. "A long time ago, two humans went around the world to all kinds of haunted places. They seemed determined to meddle with the deepest, darkest demons they could find. And they did. Eventually, their meddling ended with creating a portal for demons to travel through. No one knows how exactly they did it, but they did. Demons came and went as they pleased, terrorizing the earth.

"Years later, humans started popping up with different kinds of magic. They weren't as strong as a demon's magic but they were nothing to scoff over. As time went on, and the Great Collapse happened, people started to forget about demons. Everyone had some kind of magic, strong or weak. That's why some people who don't look 'human' are actually demons, hell-spawn."

There was a long moment of silence.

"My you have a way with words," Alastor complimented. The two went back and forth with flirts but it was nothing but noise to me. I put the mirror down and felt my claws and dry, scaly skin. How does one even comprehend the fact that they weren't human? I was a creature. I was a completely different race. I came from hell.

"My my dear, it's nothing to fret over." Rosie grabbed my attention. "You come from a very powerful race. I'm willing to bet both your parents were demons. Though I'm not sure how you ended up in fighting rings or with a human appearance. We'll have to dig deeper." I pressed both hands into my lap. "Not tonight, though. It's very late and you ought to sleep after discovering so much about yourself. You'll have to come back and visit again."

"Rest assured, we will," Alastor said, placing a hand on my shoulder. I looked at his claws and ran up his arm to his terrifying smile. "Thank you Rosie, it was such a pleasure to see you again. I hope my offering will suffice."

"Oh of course Alastor. I'm curious to know more about this lovely lady, too.”

"So am I, dear, so am I."

[corruptedcaps]

Possessive

Oh, quiet your whining. I'll give this body back to your girlfriend when I've completed my unfinished business or whatever. You think I want to possess your Rebecca’s body? It's so dorky and unathletic. Don't forget that I used to be head cheerleader before I died, so this is a huge step down in my eyes. It's not my fault her body is the only one I could possess.

But let me tell you something, I won't waste this opportunity. Being stuck as a ghost as so dull, and now I get to experience the living again. Sure, her body might not be perfect, but I'll make it work. And hey, I'll even bring some of that cheerleading spirit into her life. She'll thank me later when she's the most popular girl in school. So, quit complaining and let me do my thing. I promise you, I'll give her body back in top-notch condition. Besides, it's not like you have any other options. You want me gone? Help me finish my business, and then I'll leave you all alone. Deal?

How am I supposed to find out my unfinished business if I have to be stuck in your girlfriend’s clothes? That's why I went shopping for clothes more my style. It's not like I can roam around in those frumpy outfits of hers. I need something more alluring and fabulous. More my liking. Her body actually isn’t as bad as I thought. Especially after I hit the gym with it. Only a week in and it’s already more flexible.

So, I hit the stores and picked out some seriously sexy clothes that will make her old wardrobe look like a joke. Picture this: a sleek, black leather mini-skirt that shows off her now toned legs. I paired it with a low-cut, crimson crop top that accentuates her nearly perfect curves. Oh, and let's not forget the stilettos that add a touch of sophistication and make me feel powerful.

But the real showstopper is the crimson lace lingerie set I bought. What a peek? Of course you do. It's daring, it's fierce, and it's exactly what I need to remind myself that I'm still desirable in this world. It may be Rebecca's body, but I'm the one wearing it, and I'm determined to make the most of it.

So, here I am, looking fabulous, ready to take on the world. This unfinished business won't know what hit it once I get started. Oh, and don't worry, I'll return all of Rebecca's clothes to their boring place in the closet when I'm done. But until then, this body is all mine, and I'm going to make the most of it.

I was finding it hard and frankly boring trying to figure out what unfinished business I had so I recruited my old friends to help. I must say, it's been quite entertaining to see how easily I've manipulated them into following me, all without them knowing it's me inside Rebecca's body. It turns out that all she ever needed was a strong personality at the wheel.

My old clique fell right into line, just like the good old days. They can't resist being around the "it" girl that I’ve made Rebecca into. It's amusing to watch them compete for my attention, trying to be the one closest to the new popular girl. It’s kind of hawt making them bend to my will as Rebecca, when only a few weeks ago they were her bullies.

They listen to my every word, take my suggestions as law, and treat me like a queen bee as they should. I've perfected the art of a withering stare and a cutting remark that leaves them quivering in their boots. They want to be me, to be close to me, and they're falling over themselves to earn my approval.

I know you're mad that I've been taking so long, but you can't deny the improvements I've made to Rebecca's life, her body, her social status. Look at how she's thriving now, thanks to me! Besides, it's not every day your girlfriend becomes the center of attention and the most sought-after girl in town, you should be happy.

I get it, you miss the girl you knew, but let's be real, she was never this captivating. With me in control, she's more confident, more assertive, and more irresistible. I may be in her body, but I've taken it to heights she never dreamed of reaching. Never in a million years would she had tried out for the cheerleading team let alone run it like I do now.

Plus you can’t say you’re not happy with how hot I’ve made her. Weeks in the gym has given her an even better body than I had before. Her naturally slender frame was crying out to be whipped into shape. Plus look at the added effect it’s had on these tits, aren’t they glorious?

Tell you what, why don’t you touch them? Hell, give them a good squeeze. Oh fuuuuck yessss just like that. Bet Rebecca didn’t let you do this. You’re getting horny for bitchy little Rebecca aren’t you? Go on big boy, show me how much you love what I’ve done to her by taking out your dick and stroking it for me. Oh my, that’s certainly bigger than I expected from you. Yes stroke it for me baby, stroke it for baddie Becky. Oh you like that don’t you? Becky is a much better name don’t you think. Cum for me baby, cum for Becky.

You can’t be mad at me for making you cum every day this week, I’m just doing what comes natural to me, which is being a hawt piece of ass. Plus I’m not forcing you to do anything. I know you’ve been looking up ways to exercise me from Rebecca’s body to try and soothe your guilty conscience but I’m sorry to tell you babe, I’m never leaving. It’s my body now.

I’ve realized my unfinished business is to live a long and full life as Becky, the ultimate bitch. Come closer, darling. Look into my eyes and see the fire that burns within me. I’m more alive now then she ever was and even more than I had ever been in my own body. Being Becky has been the best thing to ever happen to me and soon it will be for you too.

You see, while you were busy searching for ways to banish me, I was doing my own research. Those books you've been reading, the ones on magic and exorcism, well, they caught my interest too. And I've delved into the dark arts, learning things that would make your skin crawl.

I now possess power beyond your wildest imagination, and I must say, it's quite liberating. I've discovered spells that can bend the very fabric of reality, including one that allows me to remove someone's morals. It's a fascinating little trick, and I believe you'll find it quite enlightening.

Like right now I’m sure you’re feeling all urges to purge me from this gorgeous body I’ve perfected just evaporate from your mind. In fact you feel a deep devotion to me, Becky, your gorgeous girlfriend. As much as I love that dick of yours i need a man to match it but don’t worry, I’ve got that all worked out. I’m a matter of moments you’ll be my handsome, strong and arrogant boyfriend who loves to bully as much as I do. You’ll have no memory of Rebecca or the loser that she was. All that you’ll remember is Becky.

Oh, darling, you know how much it excites me to see you bullying others. It's hard to keep my hands off you when you're radiating that aura of arrogance and charm. Who would have thought that beneath that sexy exterior, there was a deliciously dark and handsome bully? The way you sneer at those lesser souls, mock them, and make them tremble in fear—it's a work of art. Ugh I can’t stand it anymore, let’s get back to your car and fuck, it’s so hawt to hear you yell out Becky!

[embracing-the-ineffable]

Breaking the Silence, posted by Neil Gaiman at 10:20 AM (1/14/25)

I haven't had a chance to process this yet, but NG has posted on his website:

Text below the cut if you don't want to follow the link (And a reminder to everyone, please be radically fucking kind to everyone as they process this in their own ways):

"Over the past many months, I have watched the stories circulating the internet about me with horror and dismay. I’ve stayed quiet until now, both out of respect for the people who were sharing their stories and out of a desire not to draw even more attention to a lot of misinformation. I've always tried to be a private person, and felt increasingly that social media was the wrong place to talk about important personal matters. I've now reached the point where I feel that I should say something.

As I read through this latest collection of accounts, there are moments I half-recognise and moments I don’t, descriptions of things that happened sitting beside things that emphatically did not happen. I’m far from a perfect person, but I have never engaged in non-consensual sexual activity with anyone. Ever. 

I went back to read the messages I exchanged with the women around and following the occasions that have subsequently been reported as being abusive. These messages read now as they did when I received them – of two people enjoying entirely consensual sexual relationships and wanting to see one another again. At the time I was in those relationships, they seemed positive and happy on both sides.

And I also realise, looking through them, years later, that I could have and should have done so much better. I was emotionally unavailable while being sexually available, self-focused and not as thoughtful as I could or should have been. I was obviously careless with people's hearts and feelings, and that's something that I really, deeply regret. It was selfish of me. I was caught up in my own story and I ignored other people's.

I’ve spent some months now taking a long, hard look at who I have been and how I have made people feel. 

Like most of us, I’m learning, and I'm trying to do the work needed, and I know that that's not an overnight process. I hope that with the help of good people, I'll continue to grow. I understand that not everyone will believe me or even care what I say but I’ll be doing the work anyway, for myself, my family and the people I love. I will be doing my very best to deserve their trust, as well as the trust of my readers.

At the same time, as I reflect on my past – and as I re-review everything that actually happened as opposed to what is being alleged – I don't accept there was any abuse. To repeat, I have never engaged in non-consensual sexual activity with anyone.

Some of the horrible stories now being told simply never happened, while others have been so distorted from what actually took place that they bear no relationship to reality. I am prepared to take responsibility for any missteps I made. I’m not willing to turn my back on the truth, and I can't accept being described as someone I am not, and cannot and will not admit to doing things I didn't do."

Here's information about yesterday's article, which he's responding to:

And another reminder to everyone, please be radically fucking kind to everyone as they process this in their own ways.