#i love how much of this story is like. letting people do things for you because they want to

[julietsf1]

For Her - Lando Norris x Reader

summary: She came to support him. Instead, she was met with hate and a paddock full of people who acted like she didn’t exist. But if there was one thing about Lando Norris, it was that he loved out loud (3.2k words)

content: protective boyfriend, public relationship, public displays of affection, romantic grand gesture

AN: happy new season guys!!! what a race, I hope china will be kinder with my heart :') here's another fic for our race winner! muah <3

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The first race of the season should have been magical.

It should have been the kind of morning you’d always imagined—walking through the paddock with the giddy excitement of someone witnessing greatness up close, feeling the electricity in the air, the intoxicating mix of tire smoke, adrenaline, and champagne already waiting for its moment in the podium spray. You had thought of how proud you would feel watching Lando, how thrilling it would be to see him in his element, how belonging you might feel in a world that, until now, had existed for you in stories and through screens.

You had not imagined being denied entry.

"Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to step back."

The security guard barely spared you a glance, already moving on to the next person in line, his voice impassive, as if he had done this a hundred times before and you were simply another face in a sea of hopeful girls who had tried to talk their way into the paddock.

You gripped your lanyard a little tighter, your heart skipping slightly. "I have a pass," you said, voice gentle but firm as you lifted it to eye level, the McLaren logo glinting in the sunlight.

The guard exhaled sharply through his nose, unimpressed. "We've had a lot of fans trying to sneak in today. If you don’t have the right accreditation, I can’t let you through."

Your stomach twisted.

"I do have the right accreditation," you tried again, as kindly as possible, despite the heat creeping up your neck. "I’m with McLaren. My boyfriend-"

"Yeah, that’s what they all say."

The words were clipped, dismissive, and spoken with the kind of flat finality that suggested he had already decided you were lying.

Embarrassment coiled in your chest, wrapping itself around your lungs, making it suddenly difficult to breathe.

You stood there, cheeks burning, as people brushed past you, throwing curious glances your way. The seconds stretched endlessly, each one more excruciating than the last.

It wasn’t until a McLaren staff member recognized you—"Oh, she’s with Lando," they had said offhandedly—that the security guard finally stepped aside, not bothering with so much as an apology.

By the time you walked through the gates, the joy you had carried that morning had dulled into something smaller, something fragile.

And then, somehow, it got worse.

...

The McLaren motorhome stood like a beacon in the paddock, its sleek glass windows reflecting the bustle of team personnel moving inside. You exhaled slowly, shaking off the earlier embarrassment, and made your way toward the hospitality lounge, longing for something warm and familiar.

A latte, perhaps. Something to reset the day.

You stepped up to the hospitality counter with a practiced sort of grace, the kind that had been instilled in you from your childhood—shoulders back, chin lifted, a polite smile even when you wanted to disappear.

The woman behind the counter was stunning in a sharp, effortless way, her McLaren uniform crisp, her dark eyes shrewd, assessing. She barely looked up when you stepped forward.

"Good morning," you greeted, your voice light, pleasant. "Could I get an oat latte, please?"

The woman’s gaze flicked to you then, sweeping over you in a way that wasn’t unkind but wasn’t exactly warm, either.

"Are you with media?" she asked, already sounding bored.

You shook your head, still polite. "No, I’m—"

"Hospitality is for team guests only," she interrupted, her words clipped, a polite but unmistakable dismissal.

There was something about the way she said it, the way her lips curled just slightly, that sent something sharp down your spine.

You held up your accreditation again, your expression kind but unwavering. "I am a team guest. It is my first race though! I'm with Lando."

A pause. A flicker of something in her gaze.

And then, a small, almost imperceptible smirk.

"Ah," she said slowly, like she was only just now realizing. "Of course you are."

There was something else behind her tone, something you recognized.

You had met people like her before, in glittering lobbies, at perfectly curated events, in spaces where perception was everything. People who measured others in careful glances and quiet, ruthless judgments.

The woman tilted her head, her smile suddenly saccharine. "I’m afraid we’re only serving certain guests at the moment."

The words landed with the soft cruelty of a velvet dagger.

She wasn’t saying no outright.

She was refusing you while pretending it was about something else entirely.

You stared at her for a moment, your fingers tightening slightly over the strap of your bag.

You could have fought. Could have pointed out that this was ridiculous, that you had every right to be here, that her behavior was as transparent as it was petty.

But instead, you simply let out a soft breath and smiled.

Not the kind of smile that was warm and grateful.

The kind of smile that veiled the frustration you were feeling.

"No worries," you said gently, dipping your head, your voice smooth, graceful. "I wouldn’t want to trouble you."

And with that, you turned and walked away, back straight, head held high, because if nothing else—you were not the kind of woman who begged.

But it still stung.

...

The hotel room is quiet except for the faint murmur of the city outside. The occasional car hums past beneath the window, the distant noises of Melbourne nightlife drifting in through the small gap in the balcony door. Inside, the glow from the bedside lamp casts soft golden light over the pristine sheets, the half-finished cup of tea you abandoned hours ago, and your phone—face-down, untouched, deliberately ignored.

You had set it aside like it burned you.

And in a way, it had.

You don’t need to look at the screen to know what’s waiting for you there.

A photo. You, walking alone through the paddock, caught at an unflattering angle—your hands adjusting the strap of your bag, your gaze flicking off to the side. Out of context, impersonal, just another frame in someone else’s story.

But the caption beneath it?

That made it personal.

The caption beneath it, however, was anything but subtle.

"Classic gold digger. No personality, no job, just another wag looking for a paycheck."

The replies were worse.

"She looks so full of herself. I bet she spends his money like crazy."

"Lando deserves better. She looks disgusting."

"Does she even like racing or just his wallet?"

You had expected something like this eventually. Being seen always came at a cost.

But expectation doesn’t soften the blow.

It doesn’t make the words less sharp. It doesn’t stop them from settling in the quiet places of your mind, the ones that whisper in the dark when the world is still.

You exhale slowly, smoothing your hand over the sheets, willing away the tightness in your throat.

It’s fine.

You were raised to handle things like this with grace, with an understanding that women who stand beside successful men are often reduced to spectators, accessories, footnotes in their own stories.

You know who you are. You know your worth.

And yet, knowing doesn’t stop the sting.

A keycard beeps at the door.

Then, the soft sound of it swinging open, of footsteps—light, easy, carrying a kind of restless energy even now.

"Hi, darling," Lando’s voice fills the space before he does.

You don’t turn immediately, letting yourself blink once, twice, composing yourself in the quiet before offering a small smile as he steps inside.

He looks effortlessly disheveled—his hair still damp from the rain outside, his McLaren polo slightly untucked, the fabric creased like he’d run a hand over it one too many times.

He is still buzzing—from the high of the weekend, from the thrill of being back in the car, from the sheer joy of doing what he loves.

And then he looks at you.

And everything shifts.

His grin falters. His brows pull together.

"Hey," he says again, but softer this time, slower. "What’s wrong?"

You hesitate, fingers brushing against the sheets. "It’s nothing."

Lando stills.

"You’re upset."

It’s not a question.

You exhale, tilting your head slightly, lips curving in something almost amused. "No big deal, this is your weekend."

But Lando doesn’t smile.

Instead, he moves—crossing the room in three long strides, sinking down in front of you, his hands warm against your thighs, his gaze level, intent.

"Tell me," he says, quiet but firm.

All day, you have been ignored, dismissed, treated like an inconvenience. And yet, here he is, giving you his undivided attention, his entire world narrowing down to this moment, to you.

You hesitate. Then, finally, you murmur, "People weren’t exactly kind today."

His grip on your legs tightens just slightly.

"Security thought I was a fan trying to sneak in. Hospitality wouldn’t serve me." You let out a small, humorless laugh, shaking your head. "And now there’s a photo of me online. People saying I’m a disgusting gold digger."

Lando doesn’t move.

Doesn’t even breathe.

Then, slowly, he reaches for your phone, flipping it over with careful precision before scrolling. He doesn’t need you to guide him—he finds it immediately.

His jaw tightens.

And then, in a tone so low and steady that it makes your stomach flip:

"Are you joking?"

You open your mouth, but he’s already shaking his head, pushing himself up, pacing now, running a hand through his curls.

"Such bullshit," he starts, turning sharply, voice too controlled, too even, "that after everything—after how much effort you’ve put into being here, after how much of your life you’ve adjusted for me—these people had the nerve to treat you like that?"

You shift under his gaze, biting your lip. "Lando, it’s not—"

"No, no, hold on," he interrupts, hands in the air like he needs a second to process. He lets out a short, disbelieving laugh, but there’s nothing amused about it.

"Because from where I’m standing, you’re the easiest person to love in any room, and I genuinely don’t understand how anyone could be that dense."

He exhales sharply, shaking his head, jaw tight. "Honestly, I don’t even know whether to be pissed or impressed by their level of dickheadness."

He stops, inhales sharply, then turns back to you.

"Tomorrow," he says, voice steady now, decisive. "We fix this."

You raise a brow. "We?"

Lando tilts his head, giving you a look like you have just asked if the sky is blue.

"Obviously."

...

There are very few things in life that can silence an entire paddock.

Lando Norris walking in hand-in-hand with you is apparently one of them.

The usual morning commotion—the hurried strides of engineers, the murmured strategy discussions, the distant hum of espresso machines—all of it seems to slow, the air shifting as one by one, heads turn.

Eyes follow you as you move through the paddock, curiosity crackling in the air like static before a storm.Conversations taper off, whispers trailing in your wake, phones discreetly lifted, cameras capturing the moment in real time.

Lando, of course, is unbothered.

If anything, he thrives under the weight of their attention. His grip on your hand remains firm, steady, unwavering, his strides unhurried, his smirk bordering on self-satisfied.

He wants them to see.

It’s deliberate—the way he holds you close, the way his fingers brush over yours in soft, thoughtless patterns, the way his head tilts toward you slightly every time you speak, like you are the only thing worth listening to.

There is no question about what this is.

There is no question about where you belong.

He makes sure of it.

And then, with perfect, almost cinematic timing, he steers you toward McLaren hospitality.

Right to the coffee bar.

The barista from yesterday stands behind the counter, the same sharp-cut uniform, the same perfectly applied lipstick, the same calculating gaze.

Only now, it falters.

She sees Lando before she sees you, her posture straightening, professional mask slipping into place like second nature. But then, her eyes flick toward you—toward your hands intertwined, toward the subtle, unspoken intimacy of the way he keeps close.

You watch as realization dawns.

Oh.

Lando leans against the counter, effortless, grinning.

"Two oat lattes," he says, voice bright, easy, amused. "One for me, one for my girl."

The silence that follows is exquisite.

The barista hesitates—just for a fraction of a second, just long enough for you to see it.

Panic.

"Of course," she says, voice smooth but not quite as sharp as before.

And just like that, there are no shortages, no waiting, no excuses.

The coffees are made within seconds.

Lando watches, humming thoughtfully, tapping his fingers lightly against the counter as she slides the first cup toward him. He lifts it to his lips, taking a slow, exaggerated sip before letting out a long, obnoxiously satisfied hum.

"Mm," he muses, shifting his weight, sparing her a glance. "Tastes better today."

His smirk is dangerous.

"Must be the service."

The barista’s lips press together just slightly.

You take your coffee, cradling the cup in your hands, offering her a soft, serene smile.

"Thank you," you say lightly.

You watch as she winces.

And Lando, the ever-efficient instigator that he is, takes it one step further.

"You know," he muses, as if the thought has just occurred to him, "I think I should make this a tradition."

He turns to you then, eyes bright with mischief, voice just loud enough for the surrounding staff to hear.

"Morning coffee," he says smoothly. "Every race weekend. For the foreseeable future."

The barista looks like she wants to disappear.

You, on the other hand, can’t help but smile.

...

The checkered flag had waved, the roar of the crowd still vibrating through the air, but none of it mattered—not the celebrations, not the flashing cameras, not the McLaren team swarming the pit wall in victory.

Because the moment Lando climbed out of the car, eyes scanning the chaos, he found you.

And then—he ran.

Straight toward you, helmet discarded, race suit half-unzipped, curls a disheveled mess from the heat of the cockpit.

You barely have time to react before he collides into you, arms wrapping around your waist, lifting you off the ground like you weigh nothing.

You shriek—an actual, real shriek—as your feet leave the pavement, the entire world tilting as he spins you in circles,laughter spilling from his lips like he can’t contain it.

And then—he kisses you.

Right there, in front of thousands of fans, in front of cameras, reporters, his entire team.

Hard. Fierce. Like he’d won the race and you in the same breath.

The world erupts around you—cheering, chanting, Oscar groaning dramatically in the background.

"Oh my god. You two are disgusting."

None of it matters.

Because Lando is grinning against your lips, breathless, victorious, yours.

When he finally sets you back down, he doesn’t let go.

Doesn’t even try to.

Instead, he beams down at you, cheeks flushed, curls damp with sweat, voice all cocky, all Lando.

"So, did I impress you or what?"

You roll your eyes, fond and exasperated all at once. "Eh. You were alright."

He gasps. Actually gasps.

"You’re joking." He turns toward the cameras, mock-betrayed. "Did you guys hear that? I win a Grand Prix, and she says I’m ‘alright.’"

You bite your lip, pretending to consider. "You were pretty fast, I guess."

"Pretty fast?" he repeats, positively scandalized. "Babe. I am literally the fastest man in Australia right now."

You burst out laughing. "I was kind of rooting for Oscar."

Oscar, mid-drink of water behind you, chokes.

"Lies." Lando pulls you back in, forehead resting against yours, his voice dropping into something softer, something just for you.

"Say you’re proud of me."

You sigh dramatically. "I guess I’m—"

"Say it."

You grin, heart pounding. "Fine. I’m proud of you, Norris."

He hums, satisfied, smug, still absolutely glowing. "Thought so."

...

Lando was still riding the high when he got to the media pen, his race suit unzipped to his waist, curls damp with sweat, and that stupidly charming grin still plastered across his face.

It wasn’t just a ‘first win of the season’ grin.

It was a ‘my girlfriend is here, and I just won a whole-ass race for her’ grin.

The interviewer barely got a word in before Lando pointed directly at you, standing just off-camera.

"Her."

You blink. "Me?"

"Yeah, you!" He turns back to the cameras, nodding enthusiastically. "Let’s just get this straight—I did this for her. Like, entirely. One hundred percent. Full motivation. If she hadn’t shown up, I probably would’ve parked it in a gravel trap on lap ten."

The interviewer laughed. "So, you’re saying she’s your good luck charm?"

"Absolutely," Lando replied, dead serious. "I mean, have you seen her? Look at her."

The camera did not pan to you, thank god. The poor guy running the live feed probably had no idea what to do.

But Lando? Oh, he was just getting started.

"She walked into this paddock today looking like an actual goddess, completely unaware that she is, in fact, the sun incarnate, and people want me to talk about tire degradation? No. I want to talk about her."

The interviewer tried so hard to stay professional.

"You—uh, you had great pace today—"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Lando waved him off.

"Lando, I don’t think—"

"Listen, I need to emphasize something." Lando leaned in, tone conspiratorial. "Do you know how lucky I am? Not only is she breathtaking, but she’s also, like, annoyingly smart. Like, did you know she reads all the time? Real books.Not just memes and Twitter threads like me."

He gestured vaguely, suddenly overwhelmed by his own emotions.

"She doesn’t even realize how much people admire her. But I see it. I see everything. And I just think the world needs to start appreciating her at my level."

"That is… very sweet." The interviewer was visibly struggling to keep up.

"Just had to get that out there."

"Well, congratulations on the win, Lando," the interviewer finally managed, skimming over his list of unanswered questions he had prepared.

"Thank you." He nodded seriously, finally letting go of the mic. "And big thanks to the team, of course."

You rolled your eyes from behind the cameras, suppressing a smile.

...

The internet had seen many things, but no one was prepared for Lando Norris using his post-race interview as a full-blown love letter. 

"Lando’s race pace was great, but his girlfriend propaganda was even stronger."

"THE WAY HE JUST POINTED AT HER IMMEDIATELY I CAN’T."

"Lando Norris said ‘this win is for my girlfriend’ and proceeded to recite a romantic sonnet on live TV. My standards are ruined."

Later, as the two of you curled up in the hotel room, finally away from the cameras, Lando buried his face in your neck with a content sigh.

"You know," he murmured, voice sleepy, warm, full of love. "I really did win that for you."

You ran your fingers through his curls. "I know."

"I meant every word, too."

You smiled. "Don't you think it was a bit much?"

"I don't think it was nearly enough," he said, already half-asleep, grinning like he had never been happier.

[thatoneautisticshark]

Adding further to this, everyone needs to stop jumping to try and say it's for disabled people. I am disabled, a shit tonne of fandom is disabled, because fandom is an escape.

It lets us meet people online, who don't give a shit if we can't speak out loud, who understand if we drop of the earth for a few days because of a flare up, and just want to make sure we are okay.

Fandom is something we can actually participate in, regardless of what issues we may have IRL.

So saying that, oh well, it's for disabled people to be able to write, is frankly offensive. We are just as capable, if not more capable of writing, then abled people (Due to hyper fixating many of us write more)

A tool to help would be a spell check. Text to speech of someone can't type, or if it was an assignment, extra time incase health got in the way.

An accommodation or tool allows us to achieve the same thing as an able bodied person. Generative AI is not writing, it is a Frankenstein of stolen content mashed together to seem original.

"Oh but I can't focus to write" then don't write right now, I've dropped off the face of tumbler for a few days because I couldn't focus to post anything good, rather then give my followers AI slop.

Or push, write anyways and edit later.

You use it for ideas?

There's thousands of ideas people post they would love to see written, or put up a post asking for asks!

You use to to roleplay?

I can guarantee, as someone who got fixated on the AI chat apps before I really learned how bad it is. I know it feels good, but can make your mental health dive so easy, and it's even easier to get addicted, don't.

Roleplaying with real people is even better anyways, and so much more satisfying, and the RP community on tumbler is live and well right now.

If you really can't compile your ideas well, don't. Post them as a scrambled lump of headcannons, people will still love it.

Don't be stealing content and fucking up the environment just because you are too fucking lazy to grind your work out.

Yes you won't be perfect at first, but I mean, no one is, you won't improve if you don't try. The first fiction I posted as a young teen? Was first person, constantly switching POV and was written, no kidding, like "I looked at him, he was hot, I blushed"

And you know what? People still enjoyed it!

The thing about fanfiction is it is from the fans! It people liking these blorbos, this universe enough they write their own stories.

And I could have edited this more, but no. I might seem protective of fanfiction, and that's because I am, it's an escape for a lot of people. Hell being able to post and interact with fandom helps keep a lot of people going, so we do not want it fucking full of ai slop.

Hey, you reblogged that AI post and I was surprised to see something so mean on your blog. "If you cant write unassisted, fuck you, youre a disgrace to the community." Is that really something you want on your blog?

Just in case this isn't a spam message:

Posting AI-generated content to a platform intended to be an archive for writers is not appropriate use of the platform. On a platform intended for human creation, it is rude and inappropriate to clog search results with AI-produced content which often plagiarizes the work of human authors.

Use of generative AI is also horrible for our environment, leading to massive waste of fossil fuel energy and water. We should not be doing damage to our planet for the sake of generating (robot-produced, often plagiarized) fiction, especially when the joy of fiction comes from the creation and emotion of real people.

Rather than giving a prompt to a generative AI, people should consider attempting to write their own work, or asking another writer from the fandom if they would be interested in writing it. Anyone who is capable of typing a prompt into ChatGPT is capable of writing a story. The first attempts may not be amazing, but that is true of any skill, and anyone can improve with time and practice - and while ChatGPT may give you big returns in your time, it doesn't give you practice, growth, or creativity, which is where the joy of writing should come from.

[astrologydray]

how each Moon sign really acts when they catch feelings

🔥 Fire Moons (Aries, Leo, Sagittarius) – “Too Hot to Handle”

🔥 Aries Moon – Catches feelings like they’re catching a flight—immediate and full speed ahead. Will text first, show off, and initiate plans within five minutes of realizing they like you. If you play hard to get, they’ll get frustrated but secretly love the chase. Might accidentally scare you off by saying “I like you” too soon, then ghosting to regain their power.

🔥 Leo Moon – Starts acting like the main character whenever their crush is around. Will lowkey flex their achievements, dress their best, and drop hints about how many people want them (but they only have eyes for you). If you don’t gas them up, they’ll act so unbothered but will die inside waiting for your attention.

🔥 Sagittarius Moon – Pretends they don’t care, but you’ll catch them talking about you nonstop. Will flirt shamelessly, send unhinged memes, and suggest spontaneous trips or adventures (”We should totally get lost in another city together”). If they start overthinking or acting nervous, just know they’re down bad.

🌍 Earth Moons (Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn) – “Slow Burn or Nothing”

🌍 Taurus Moon – Acts normal on the outside but is already imagining cuddling with you in a cabin with scented candles and matching pajamas. Will observe you for weeks before making a move. Once they start cooking for you or sending “Did you eat?” texts, it’s over—you’re theirs.

🌍 Virgo Moon – Analyzes the hell out of their feelings and yours. Reads into every text like it’s a conspiracy theory. Will start fixing your life as an excuse to be around—helping you organize, sending you self-improvement tips, or reminding you to stay hydrated. If they start playfully judging your bad habits, just know they’re in love.

🌍 Capricorn Moon – Keeps their feelings under lock and key but will start showing up for you in practical ways. Will make sure you’re safe, send you career advice, and randomly buy you things you mentioned once (“I noticed you like this brand, so I got it for you”). If they let their guard down emotionally, you’ve unlocked a rare achievement.

💨 Air Moons (Gemini, Libra, Aquarius) – “Flirting or Just Existing?”

💨 Gemini Moon – Spams your notifications with memes, random facts, and ”haha this reminded me of you” texts. Will find excuses to talk to you ALL DAY. If they suddenly go silent or act distant, they either like you a little too much and are freaking out or got distracted by another crush for five seconds.

💨 Libra Moon – Starts romanticizing your whole existence and lowkey stalking your socials to figure out your aesthetic. Will flirt with you subtly and test your interest before making a move. If you’re too slow, they’ll start acting uninterested just to regain the upper hand—but if you flirt back, they’ll MELT.

💨 Aquarius Moon – Gets weirder around you. If they start sending you deep philosophical thoughts at 2 AM or randomly trauma-dumping in a way that makes no sense—congrats, they like you. Will act detached, but inside they’re spiraling, wondering if you’re “The One.” If they start saying “You’re not like other people”, RUN—they’re already planning your future together.

🌊 Water Moons (Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces) – “Emotionally Unstable (In a Cute Way)”

🌊 Cancer Moon – Catches feelings like a 2000s rom-com protagonist—deeply, dramatically, and with a hint of delusion. Will make playlists about you, stare at your texts like they hold the secrets of the universe, and secretly get upset if you take too long to reply. If they start randomly bringing up childhood stories, they’re trying to bond with you for life.

🌊 Scorpio Moon – Acts completely normal on the surface but is secretly OBSESSED. Will watch you like a detective gathering evidence. Will test you by pulling back to see if you chase them (if you do, they’ll fall even harder). Once they’re in, they’re ALL in—ride or die, no in-between.

🌊 Pisces Moon – Catches feelings before anything even happens. Already daydreaming about holding hands in the rain before you’ve even had a real conversation. Will drop hints through music, poetry, or vague Instagram stories and hope you just know. If they start being extra shy or spacing out around you, they’re picturing your wedding.

[xazse]

please can i request hybrid kitten reader being taken in by snow leopard Satoru and panther Suguru. could be something like they both assimilated into regular society while living together and they found reader fending for themselves on the street after being abandoned and kicked out by their owner for misbehaving and being mischievous (she's just playful and needs company it was the owner's fault for leaving her alone at home all the time). could you include brat taming and a threesome between them?

its my first time requesting i love your hybrid works sm 🫶🏻 it scratches an itch i didnt know i had and i even read the ones im not into

Warnings: Hybrids + BratTaming + threesome + smut + manhandling + pussy-spanking + crying + orgasm denial + cumming inside + mentions of pregnancy + SatoSugu are a bit mean in this one. + hybrids

Pairings: CatHybrid!Reader x SnowLeopard!Satoru x PantherHybrid!Suguru

Notes: I hope you enjoy! I apologize for this taking so long! I had fun writing this 😈 I’m so happy to be your first request I really do hope you see this! Please give me a message or something if you do!!

You didn’t expect to be picked up one day, showered, clothed and fed till it looked like your stomach could pop out but it had happened. You went from trudging down the street in dirty garments garnering dirty looks from humans who didn’t understand your predicament, you hated the way they looked at you like you were gum on their shoe. A disgusting spec on the world.

It wasn’t until you met Suguru who found you digging through a trash can in some random alleyway, it was like an angel extending its hand, A very beautiful one, one who probably knew the hardships you had suffered though.

He had listened to your story in that alleyway, spared you his ear and eyes with not a hint of malice or some ulterior motive.

He also shared his story of being a “predator” in this unfair unbalanced world, Suguru held himself in such a way that you couldn’t believe people had even thought he was anything but the kindest man to grace this earth.

Satoru you learn, has his ups and downs but besides he also treated with the utmost respect and care, taking care of you in his own funny ways. Satoru being a Leopard made things easier for you they’re usually upbeat in some way so it wasn’t hard for you to get comfortable in their warm home.

You adjusted very well to the both of them, adapted to their lives and sunk into their company. They think it worked a little too well.

Suguru had asked you to do something very simple, something small, he never really asks you to do much around the house so he doesn’t think anything of it, what he doesn’t expect is you huffing under your breath and waving him off, simply telling him to “get Satoru to do it.” He’s stunned where he stands in the kitchen.

The next issue arises when you’re playing with Satoru, something you do on the regular because you know how much he loves the chase. When he pins you down you take the opportunity to bite him, you’ve already had Suguru and Satoru talk to you about your biting habits, so you know you’re not meant to do that, Satoru is the one left staring at the glaring mark on his arm and when he tries to scold you, you’re already walking into your shared bedroom and plopping on that game. Not even bothering with an apology.

You destroy expensive vases, plates all in the name of fun, scolding you and telling you to stop doesn’t work anymore. It just seems to make your behavior even more annoying.

Suguru is the more calmer one between him and Satoru, he had let the biting incident go rather easily, but Suguru hadn’t, he thinks he’s the calm and level headed one but apparently not. He comes home from a stressful exhausting day he wants to do nothing more than cuddle up with you and Satoru in bed.

When hes a few steps into the apartment, he’s greeted by his couches, his expensive personally manufactured couches scratched up, not light scratches either those were made there with a bad intent, and he sees you laying on that same couch, facing the ceiling, sleeping without a care in the world, he’s fucking livid.

He drops his office gear and beelines straight for the couch, straight for you, he yanks you off of his couch and a sleepy you is extremely confused.

He doesn’t spare you any words, all you see is his broad back dragging you to your shared bedroom, he throws you down in the middle of the bed with a thud and now do you get to see his angry expression, there’s not an ounce of forgiveness in there, it burns red. You know what you’ve done and yet all you want to do is push him further.

You tiptoe over that already small line and innocently ask him what’s got him so worked up.

Satoru unlocks the door and is greeted by noises, noises he can’t quite makeout yet but stepping his clothed foot further into the home he senses it’s you, he makes his way to the bedroom and slowly opens the door.

It’s like it’s straight from a porno, you’re spread out on the bed in all your glory: naked and covered in a light sheen of sweat. Suguru is sat leaned against the headboard as he abuses your poor cunt with a dildo, you’re holding onto his thick arm begging him to slow down just a little, your eyes are filled to the brim with tears and tears that are already dried up on your face.

“s’too much guru… ple-“ you can’t even finish your plead for release because Suguru is slamming the dildo right against your spot directly. Satoru can see bite marks decorating Suguru’s arms, you’ve been uselessly doing that to no avail. Still acting so bratty even during your punishment.

You see Satoru and try to call out for him in the sweetest voice you can muster, you know the leopard has a soft spot for you but in this moment it goes in one ear and out the other. Suguru spanks your swollen clit and scolds you for even thinking Satoru could help you.

Suguru doesn’t notice but Satoru sees the way your cute hole clenches, oh?

You’ve clearly been waiting for one of them to break and Suguru was the first to fold.

Satoru can no longer stare, he’s been grabbing and pawing with his cock ever since he’d seen the way your pussy swallows the dildo with not much fight. The way your wet cunt is practically soaking and dripping onto the bed.

He makes his way towards the bed, discarding his clothes on the way till he’s only in his boxers, his ears stand at full attention, listening to every squelch and nasty noise you and your pussy make.

He knows in the end you probably want cock but looking at an ever so serious Suguru he knows that’s not what you will be getting tonight, so Satoru latches onto your nipples, swirling the buds in his mouth, popping off of them just to slurp them right back into his mouth.

He swirls his long fingers around your clit, furthering your torture.

It’s not until about three hours later, you cockdrunk on the two cocks that sit nicely in your pussy, it wasn’t easy but you’d find it, you’d expected to be praised for such an achievement but nothing from either man had come out, their poor kitty left mewling in pleasure but no release just yet.

You beg to just cum once, just once but they ignore you, they chase their orgasms multiple times that night, filling your already full cunt with more of them, potentially even their little babies, that should settle you down for a while.

[yuurivoice]

Got some interesting questions about Boo's agency and doing things vs witnessing.

It's funny because some folks find Boo to be a very active participant, others have complaints.

I think they, by and large, have been incredibly impactful and active, but perhaps not in the ways some listeners expect or are used to...or want.

Let's recap.

- Boo is inquisitive, and actively digs to discover Alphonse's past but respects his boundaries when they have their walk and talk. You can infer that Boo clocks that something is on Alphonse's mind when he snaps out of his anxiety daydream.

- They observe Seth's behavior as well. His pettiness, his intimidation attempts, but when he reveals that he loves Alphonse, dots start connecting as the history between them is revealed.

- At no point would Boo interjecting during Alphonse and Seth's initial arguments and interactions ever reflect the maturity and wisdom we are trying to establish. However...

- They are an active listener, being able to prompt the right responses and make both Alphonse and Seth feel that they can share their stories with them is...in fact...an action. I think making them act out, get messy, etc. sucks a bag of dicks and plays into every played out listener trope where sure...they "do stuff" or rather, things happen to them.

- The choice to accept Alphonse's request for space and then pursue Seth instead of going home is taking initiative and action. Bringing Seth to breakfast is an even riskier action that even has negative reactions and consequences before being resolved! They get the boys to cut their shit out by putting their foot down.

That's all BSDC chapter 1 though. Let's talk about the old stuff.

Throughout all of BitterSweet, we are actively establishing that Boo's baking has potential to become a business. All of the boys' drama aside...that's actually what is going on with them at the time. Alphonse is in the midst of supporting that endeavor as we enter chapter 2, and for keen listeners, you'll find that Faust mentions a café in the city has been buying batches of chocolate croissants from an out of town baker. Seth literally gets introduced to this and begins helping Boo in Chapter 2 as well as Boo prepared to bake goods for the Winter Festival.

Now the big one, Chapter 3, the one where the boys face Boo getting involved in the past they desperately wanted to keep them from. Almost like keeping them out of the action was a critical plot point to set up the moment where they take an incredible risk in the climax.

A recurring theme in a lot of different narratives but certainly in BitterSweet has been free will and scenarios where decisions get made for people and circumstances take them in directions against their will or without their consideration. Even Finneas' meddling plays into this...and Alphonse follows up with Boo giving the impression that even if things played out differently, if Boo was making moves based out faith in themself and the boys...he'd rock with it.

I think there are people who don't love extended periods of non listener characters interacting with each other, and that's fine, but frankly so much of Alphonse and Seth's resolution needed to be between THEM. The starry night episode needed to be a private moment. Their reminiscing over burgers before leaving needed to be them trying to leave the city on a positive note, with some taste (ha) of things being normal.

Boo's influence is all over this story. They are the glue, the nurturer, the healer, the hope. If your takeaway from the series thus far is that they don't do much, I think we have some fundamental disagreements and misunderstandings about what constitutes action and impact by a character in a story.

I think the vast majority of folks get that, but I wanted to dive into it and make it clear how I feel. 💖

[sillyzeta]

fated to pretend.

prologue.

platonic yan!batfamily x blind!reader

chapter one , two , ....

your entire life was in Paris, France. First you were raised by such a greedy woman and then abandoned for her, you never thought you'd have more family, then a millionaire woman took pity on you and adopted you as her beautiful daughter.

Your life was good, the only bad thing is that you will never be able to appreciate the beauty of the world, you were born without sight, at first it had been a complete curse but soon you adapted and somehow, you improved your own senses. Despite that, you were a little overprotected by the woman you called your mother, but that was okay; you understood her reasons perfectly, almost.

Years had passed, you turned 11 years old and on your birthday, a man appeared, you didn't know him and you definitely didn't know what he looked like, he was just a man, possibly in his 40s, His voice was so deep and hoarse, the fatigue was evident from inches away, but people who are only interested in power recognize status and appearance.

It turned out that your mother was a scammer and had managed to get into the billionaire's bed, As a result, you were born and the woman having achieved her goal, had escaped with money in her hands.

It was a painful story, it really was, but it didn't hurt you at all. A long time ago you stopped considering her your mother and focused on what you could do with your disability.

Leyla, that was the name of the woman, who had made a deal with the billionaire, Bruce Wayne. An agreement that you never knew the parts of, so you could only accept it and leave your home, friends, and life.

The day of your departure was painful, Leyla crying because unfortunately she didn't have that much power in your custody and in the end, true parents win the battle. And so you said goodbye, you got on the plane, and you looked back, you were going to miss your life in Paris.

On the plane, the man didn't say much and neither did you, you didn't see the need to talk to the strange man who claims to be your father when you really don't know if he means it. And even if it is true, you feel that you would have no obligation to call him father in your life.

Your hands played with each other, while you kept your head down, you were undecided whether or not to ask the man in front of you the reasons why he adopted you and how he found you but it was better to be direct once and for all.

‘Sir... I wanna ask you, why you adopt me?’ a soft but direct voice, even if you couldn't see you felt the atmosphere so tense and uncomfortable, surely he had a grudge against the woman for stealing. ‘I really don't know anything about you, nor did I know that woman was a thief.’

‘—You... could have ignored me and moved on with your life, don't you think?’

Suddenly everything went back to silence, this man definitely made you feel more uncomfortable than you thought and you hated how he just stayed silent for a long time, 10 minutes passed and he spoke, finally.

‘I loved your mother... So why did she do it?’ the same question you asked yourself for almost 9 years, “she did it because she wanted to”, that was what you wanted to answer so much, but you had noticed that the man really felt betrayed and you couldn't help but feel empathy for the first time.

‘I don't know, I never fully understood her despite being her daughter, I'll tell you one thing Mr. Wayne.’ You let out such a long sigh, the first conversation and it was already total chaos, a whirlwind full of emotions.‘Don't reflect her on me, I don't want to have anything to do with that woman, you didn't see it but I did, I saw her true nature.’

The air grew tense and Bruce let out a growl. He wanted to tell the girl in front of him that she knew nothing, that she was the best woman he'd ever met, but... was it true? She... She just... sigh.

‘I'm not stupid, I know what this world is like, I was born with this disability and I'll never be able to cure it.’

‘— You sought me out just for what? She sent you a letter admitting her sins and saying there was a daughter of hers missing in France? How stupid.’ Maybe it was your mistake to vent to that man, to your father, but you couldn't help but feel that he had simply idealized the woman who gave birth to you too much and from time to time, We must give a reality check to those who need it most.

Those were the last words you ever spoke to him, Bruce. The journey continued and after that, you stayed quiet simply letting out another tired sigh and focusing on something other than going to an unknown place.

[ninasodiiva]

what are their true feelings?.ೃ࿐

PAC reading

hi my babes! it's crazy the love my first reading received, i'm so happy to know the messages resonated ┊͙ ˘͈ᵕ˘͈.

someone requested this pac reading, and i liked it because the uncertainty of not knowing how someone feels about you is fucking horrible (been there). so keep reading if you'd like to know what are their true feelings? ༊*·˚

how to choose a group:

take a deep breath and relax your body, look at all the pictures and pick the one you are the most drawn to, don't think about it to much. you might be attracted to the picture or the number. REMEMBER this is a general reading, take what resonates and leave what doesn't. nothing is set in stone. if you are not drawn to any of the pictures this might not be the reading for you loves. tarot is a divination tool to meant for guidance!! nothing is set in stone and you are the master of your own fate and the captain of your own soulㅤ ♡ྀི

that said, let's get into it!

- group 1: polka dot tights 🤍

hi my beautiful group 1, let's start.

at first i was extremely confused reading your cards but all of the sudden a wave of messages came in. i feel this is how you're feeling, confused (well you wouldn't be here if you weren't lol). i'm always direct when giving messages and this case is no different. babes i feel you're dealing with a person from your past, someone you already have history with and once felt like home to you, things have changed a lot. you either broke up some time ago but still keep in touch or that person is still your partner. well, this is a classic story, you both are growing and your new selves don't quite fit anymore.

there are two energies in the reading so pick the one that resonates

if this is your actual partner my group 1, i see you making great efforts to keep the relationship alive, you're a romantic, very down to earth and devoted person. the "problem" here seems to be your person, they are not who they once were. from what i'm getting i feel your person has become very independent as if they were single. keeping things to themselves, not sharing time with you, acting cold... really what im getting is that they want to focus more on their personal goals and dreams, they want to be free (?). you put the efforts to keep the fire alive, and that says beautiful things about you but... the truth is people grow apart, and it has nothing to do with you, it happens. spirit is telling me it's time to let this person go for good, both of you served your purpose within the relationship and a new chapter is ahead 🤍 they are also telling me that a conversation is VERY much needed to put an end to this cycle, a truthful, vulnerable conversation. i just heard: don't fall back into old patterns again. babes don't be like carrie in this situation pls.

spirit wants me to say that this is no one's fault, the love was there, and will be just in a different form. it's like losing contact with an old friend, you will always love them and cherish them but not in the same way. for this collective of group 1 i sense both of you are great people, it's just that you guys have different visions for you futures. have grace with yourself and remember my loves that it's not a loss, but the gain of a beautiful experience and memories.

lastly spirit says to leave your worries to them and to cherish yourself and this new chapter in your life babes. with love, Nina 🦢⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

if this is an ex or a situationship (god i hate that term) im gonna be straight forward with you babes. your person does not feel anything romantic towards you, you're confusing lust and a bit of attention for love. i feel that since you have history with this person you believe things could work out this time but im here to tell you that no (im sorry if im too harsh, i think you need it <3).

the "problem" seems to be that you my pile 1 have this subconscious belief which tells you that familiar is good even if it hurts mix with a need for validation (gosh i sound so harsh im sorry 😭). your person literally couldn't give less of a fuck, they are the definition of a fuckboy. girl please get out, let me put it to you this way. would you like your daughter to be in your situation? no right? well then FUCK YOUR PERSON. really babe, stand up you don't wanna be the "long-term long distance low commitment casual girlfriend" 🙏🏼 your person will not choose you and its not because of you, they are not serious when it comes to relationships.

he is already getting you without having to choose you, clock that.

spirit says you have no idea how much your life will improve in EVERY ASPECT once you let that person go and understand that the only validation and acceptance you need is from yourself diva. STAND UP BABE. i'm sending you lots of love and strength to leave that dusty and i apologize if at some point it got too straight forward.

with love, Nina 🦢⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

- group two: kitten heels 🩰

my group two omg when i tell you its not even funny the way im giggling while channeling the messages... gosh im so excited for you! <3

okey so, your person has feelings for you. gosh so many messages are coming through and i can't write that fast. this person likes you A LOT, he has the biggest crush on you, it's a love so sweet and tender... your person has been through hell in past relationships and that has caused them to reject love for some time, what spirit is saying is that meeting you was really cathartic for them because the feelings were so strong they had to find a way to heal to be with you.

babes be patient with them pls i'm being so serious, they are fighting their own demons and fears to find the courage to trust someone again 🤍 they are so shy about you it's so funny lol cause i'm feeling normally they're not like that. they see you as someone so kind and patient, extremely caring and beautiful physically. i'm seeing this image of you being in your world and them admiring you from afar wow. the cards and spirit support this connection 100%, what they are asking you to do is to help your person a little bit!! try to break the ice by being playful and they say it's important not to rush and get to know each other. but i assure you this is absolutely lovely energy 🌹

spirit is saying it will be sooner than expected and to be honest and thoughtful with your person, i sense they are a very strong and romantic person but when it comes to love they are hopeless. it's so sweet that they are literally forcing themselves to face their demons in order to be with you, that's how much they want you 🤍 also be prepared to go on date i heard!!

congratulations pile two you deserve this kind of love and i'm so so so excited to hear how this unfolds for you!! there's not much to say, with love Nina ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🦢

- group three: brown cardigan

hi group number three hope you're having a great day, let's get into your reading! <3

babes did you friendzone this person? lol. it's funny because i see your person hiperfixated on you but they think their feelings are not reciprocated by you? i don't know how you feel about them but since you're reading this i'm assuming you care for them at least.

im seeing your person being in their own a lot, for some reason they are going through WAITT OH. okey there are two collectives here. some of you friendzone your person or that's at least that's how they feel. and for others your person it's fighting the urge to confess how they feel towards you, because they truly appreciate your friendship. take it as it resonates!

group number 3 i'm feeling a push and pull dynamic between the both of you, i'm here to give you clarity so if you like this person spirit is saying to let yourself feel these emotions, it's safe to like someone and specifically your person!! they literally feel the same as you really, it's like those movies where the love interests are COMPLETELY blind and it's infuriating to watch 😫. you both are so awkward it's hilarious and cute. the advice here is to be open minded, i feel you're doubting this person because you have a wrong perception of them, get to know them more and make an effort!!!

i can not stress that enough, it's showing multiple times in your reading. this is someone compatible for you and the attraction is there. i can't quite pinpoint what is exactly making you both doubtful, maybe other people??

bottom line is that they like you as well and they are planning to take action towards you but you need to do that as well babes. for the ones who friendzone them (lmao) spirit says they also wanna come towards you but you crushed their hopes and now they think there's 0 chances. you have to make an effort group number three. the ball is in your court!! if what you wanted is confirmation that they are your person you have it, spirit says it will be successful but you need to OPEN UP GIRL, don't be afraid to love, you got this diva.

that's all for your reading my love, i send you lots of love and strength, Nina 🦢⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

[spideyjimin]

Adieu mon amour | jjk

⤷ adieu mon amour, french for goodbye my love

—  pairing: jungkook x female reader 

—  genre: angst 

—  summary: jungkook released two days ago a song about saying goodbye to a loved one.

—  words: 894

—  warnings: crying, mention of dead, heartbreak, and grief

—  author’s note: sooo this extremely sad drabble was written a while ago, but i never felt confident to post it. but a french artist released a song called “adieu mon amour”, and somehow, i felt like i could post this. i lost two dear people not a long time ago and writing this helped me putting into words my grief. this is not perfect and might contain mistakes, but i don’t want this to be perfect because pain isn’t.

MASTERLIST

The crowd fills the concert hall with the soft glow of their phone lights. Jungkook sits at the piano, his fingers resting on the keys as he performs the song he just released. It’s a heartbreaking ballad. A ballad that tells the story of two people that never got their happy ending. A ballad that tells his story with you.

A week ago, he found out that you passed away. The pain he felt that moment was something he never felt before. It’s the kind of pain that eats you alive. His heart aches so much and sometimes he feels like he’d be able to rip it out from his chest. This pain is simply overwhelming.

Three days ago, he assisted to your funeral with an aching heart, shaky legs, swollen eyes, and tears streaming down his face. He never imagined saying goodbye to his first love. He never imagined you’d no longer be a part of his life at 27. He never imagined a life without you.

His sweet voice sings the first notes of the song, his mind brought back to the many memories he cherishes. He closes his eyes and let your smile irritate his world one more time. A smile he’ll never see again. Without realizing it, tears run down his face, but he doesn’t hold them back.

After your funeral, he received a letter. A letter you wrote right before dying. A letter he never imagined receiving. It’s a love letter you wrote months ago, one where you told him just how much you love him. In the entire page, you kept telling him how lucky you felt to have him by your side all these years. And you also kept mentioning how proud you were of him.

He never leaves without the letter. He carries it with him everywhere. It’s all he has left of you. Your final words, the love you left behind, something to hold onto in a world without you. It’s a symbolic way to carry you with him as you are no longer here. The mere thought that you won’t be home when he finishes his show breaks his heart in ways he can even express.

His voice breaks. Then he hears you. ‘I love you.’ The words cut through him. His heart bleeds, and he doesn’t know if he can finish the song. His manager told him earlier that he didn’t need to sing the song if it was too hard for him, but Jungkook wanted it. Jungkook wanted to do it for you. For the only woman he ever loved.

Even though there’s a knot in his throat, he keeps singing. He wants to finish the song for you. For the love of his life. For the only person that ever made his heart truly beat. It seems like it’s the only thing he can do right now. For you, he can find the strength to finish this song.

He never imagined himself writing and singing this type of song. He never imagined writing a song about losing someone, and that’s the most heartbreaking thing. But music is the one of the few things that keeps him going. If he stops for a second, he just falls apart. He could have taken a break, put this world tour on hold, but for his own sanity, he can’t. And he knows that the second the show ends, he’ll just cry his heart out.

‘How is he supposed to live without you?’ is the question that constantly echoes in his mind. Time seems to move so slow without you by his side, and he doesn’t know if he can bear all of this any longer. There’s only been a week, and he still has a lifetime to live.

But there’s the little Arya. Your daughter. She’s the reason why Jungkook keeps going. She’s the reason why he bears this pain. She’s only four and doesn’t deserve to lose her mother. She doesn’t deserve any of this, just like Jungkook.

Jungkook opens his eyes and finally looks at the crowd. The view is breathtaking. This is so beautiful. On top of it, he’s surprised to notice that some fans already know the lyrics to the song he released two days ago.

The other heartbreaking thing is the fact that nobody knows what and who this song refers to. Nobody knows it’s about losing a loved one. Nobody will ever know Jungkook just lost you and how much he loved you. People don’t even know about Arya because he always protected you and will forever do it.

“I hear your laughter everywhere,” he sings. “In my souvenirs of you.”

From wherever you are, he hopes you can hear his words and see this crowd, his fans. If you were still here, you would most probably shed a tear. Whenever there was a sad song, the beauty of the moment would made you cry. It was something he loved about you.

The last harmonies of the song echo in the room. Jungkook is already sad to finish this song. He doesn’t want it. He wants this song to last forever, but he knows he can’t. He engraves in his soul this painfully beautiful moment, and he knows he’ll hold it dearly in his heart.

And he finally says the last words of the song.

“Goodbye my love.”

[wbbfannnnnn13]

Almost, Always - Chapter 10

paige x azzi

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9

A/N - Here it is, chapter 10!!! I know I'm putting you through it readers, but I told ya'll this series was going to be full of angst... I love reading unexpected twists and turns and just feeling like characters have to work and fight through things to get to the fluff so that's how I approach writing :) from here on out, chapters will probably come out slower, I do have a life and things to do despite what last week showed lol

WC: close to 3k Theme: angst, that's it...

Chapter 10 – Mixed Signals

Azzi hadn’t meant to wait so long. She told herself she needed space, time to clear her head, but as days passed, the silence between her and Paige began to thicken into something heavier than she'd anticipated. It wasn’t out of anger, and it wasn’t meant to be cold—it was hesitation, wrapped in confusion, threaded with guilt she hadn’t fully admitted to herself yet. Each day that passed without responding made it harder to reach out, even though the ache to hear Paige’s voice only grew stronger.

She wasn’t angry anymore. That emotion had burned hot in the beginning, but now it had cooled into something heavier. Not rage, not resentment—just a low ache. Unresolved. Restless. Something that sat behind her ribs and made everything else feel quieter. And maybe that was harder to carry.

She sat on the edge of her bed, scrolling through headlines she hadn’t asked for, refreshing her notifications out of habit. Her name. Paige’s name. The stories were still circulating—photos, old videos, reaction threads, podcast commentary from people who didn’t know them at all, but acted like experts on their love life. The photo of Paige leaving that restaurant lingered in her mind more than she wanted to admit. Azzi didn’t recognize the woman beside her. She wasn’t from their shared circles, not a teammate, not someone Azzi could place. That unfamiliarity unsettled her. It wasn’t jealousy exactly, but something sharper, more complicated. A quiet unease that clawed at the edges of trust, whispering questions Azzi didn’t want to ask out loud. What if there was more to that night than Paige let on? What if Azzi had been foolish to assume it meant nothing? And even though she hated the thought, it stuck, threading doubt into the silence that still stretched between them. 

She unlocked her phone, opened their text thread, and stared at the last message from Paige: I just want to hear your voice.

Azzi's thumb hovered over the screen. That one sentence hit her harder than any headline or comment thread ever could. Because the truth was, she wanted to hear Paige’s voice, too. More than anything. But the longer she avoided it, the more it scared her. How much damage it might have already done. She knew her thoughts would only spiral the longer she stayed quiet, feeding doubts and questions she couldn’t answer alone. If she didn’t speak soon, she risked letting her fear speak for her, and that terrified her more than anything Paige could say.

The irony wasn’t lost on her—how she’d once begged Paige not to let fear dictate their love, not to hide from the world, not to retreat when things got hard. And now here she was, paralyzed by her own. Caught in the same silence she’d once accused Paige of clinging to. It made her feel like a hypocrite, and worse, like maybe she wasn’t any stronger than the fear she’d tried to pull Paige through. Maybe she’d underestimated just how heavy the weight of outside noise could be—how much harder it was to hold love steady when the world kept trying to knock it loose. But if she’d learned anything from watching Paige push through that fear, it was that silence only grew heavier the longer you let it sit. And Azzi had let it sit long enough. Whatever uncertainty she still carried, Paige didn’t deserve to carry it alone. So she took a breath, pulled out her phone, and opened their thread.

Her thumb hovered for a second, then typed.

AZZI: I didn’t answer because I was trying to process everything. I needed space to clear my head, but I know that’s not an excuse. I’m sorry for going quiet on you, for shutting you out when I should’ve said something sooner.

A beat passed. Then another.

AZZI: Are you okay?

It took less than a minute for the reply to come through.

PAIGE: Just thankful to hear from you. I miss you, Az. Can we talk later tonight? I’ve been going a little crazy not hearing from you, if I’m being honest.

AZZI: I miss you too. I'll call you later, promise. 

Azzi’s chest tightened. The thought of hearing Paige’s voice again made her eyes sting. Guilt pressed in with it, heavy and sharp. She should’ve answered sooner. She should’ve called, even if she didn’t know what to say. Her mind flicked back to freshman year, a different kind of silence, another time she’d ignored Paige on purpose, but for a completely different reason, all to pull off a surprise visit for her birthday.

She’d spent the whole morning hiding out on campus, coordinating with Paige’s roommates, trying to make it perfect—texting in group chats, sneaking in through a side door, even bribing one of Paige’s teammates to keep her distracted for a bit. Meanwhile, Paige had been a wreck.

Azzi still remembered the steady stream of texts from Nika lighting up her phone as she hid in the stairwell just outside Paige’s dorm room.

NIKA: "Yo, you better get here soon. Paige is spiraling."

NIKA: "She’s pacing like a caged animal. Keeps checking her phone every 30 seconds."

NIKA: "I swear if she asks me one more time if your phone died, I’m gonna throw mine at her."

Azzi had stifled a laugh, clutching the cake box tighter to her chest.

AZZI: "Tell her to chill. I’m literally at the door."

NIKA: "Good. Because I can’t take any more of her ‘What if Azzi’s mad at me?’ whining. She’s dramatic as hell."

Azzi had paused for a second, heart full. She hadn’t meant for it to be a big thing. Just a birthday surprise. But now she could picture Paige on the other side of the door—worried, restless, overthinking.

She slipped quietly inside, creeping down the hallway until she reached the door to Paige’s room. When she pushed it open, Paige turned around so fast it startled her—wide-eyed, tense, like she’d been bracing for something else entirely. The look on her face was etched into Azzi’s memory: relief crashing into disbelief, like she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Her shoulders dropped, her breath caught, and for a second, she just stared—like Azzi wasn’t real until that moment.

“I thought you ghosted me,” Paige had said, breath catching. “I was about to call the FBI.”

Azzi had grinned, holding up the cake. “Surprise?”

Paige crossed the room in seconds, pulling her into a hug so tight Azzi thought her lungs might give out.

“Never do that again,” Paige mumbled into her hair. “I was going out of my mind.”

Azzi laughed softly. “Noted.”

They’d spent the rest of the night curled up in bed, a movie playing in the background while they passed the cake back and forth between bites. No pressure, no noise, just quiet comfort and soft laughter. It was the kind of night that made everything feel uncomplicated—steady, familiar, full in a way that lingered long after the credits rolled.

Now, thinking about how different this silence had felt—the weight of it, the ache of it—Azzi felt selfish. She hadn’t meant for it to go this far. She thought she was buying herself time to breathe, make sense of everything, and regain her footing after the world suddenly turned their relationship into a headline. But the longer the silence dragged on, the more it started to feel like avoidance. And now, she was starting to wonder if maybe it wasn’t just about processing, maybe it was fear, too.

Not fear of Paige. Fear of everything that came with loving her in public.

She had pushed Paige so hard to be open, to stop hiding, to choose their relationship out loud. And Paige had done it. She’d stepped up, made it visible, made it real in a way Azzi had craved for so long. But now, with the media storm swirling around them, the old videos resurfacing, strangers dissecting their lives, podcasts turning their history into clickbait, Azzi was starting to understand the weight Paige had been carrying all along.

And it terrified her to admit that maybe Paige had been right to be afraid.

Because now Azzi wasn’t sure if she could handle it. Not the noise, not the scrutiny, not the constant pressure of being watched and picked apart. She hated how quickly it crept in—how doubt took root in the quiet spaces, how her chest tightened every time her phone lit up with another headline. She didn’t want to care what people thought. But she did. And maybe that was the part she hadn’t been ready to admit before.

She had always believed their love was strong enough to withstand anything. But now she found herself wondering… what if it wasn’t about love at all? What if love wasn’t the problem? What if it was everything else? The eyes, the judgment, the pressure. What if she was the one who wasn’t built for it?

Azzi had to push through the rest of her day, even as her mind stayed tethered to that call with Paige. Despite the chaos in her head, basketball didn’t pause. Practices ran long, the weight room demanded her focus, film sessions left no room for drifting thoughts. Her teammates noticed the shift in her, but no one pressed. They gave her space when she needed it, filling the gaps with quiet support—handshakes, shoulder taps, subtle encouragement passed between drills. Aaliyah cracked a few jokes, trying to get her to smile. Stefanie pulled her aside during water breaks, offering quick words of reassurance.

Later that day, the playoff bracket dropped. The Mystics were in. So were the Wings. And, of course, they’d been matched against each other in the first round.

They found out during a team meeting. Coach pulled the matchup up on screen, and the room erupted with energy—cheers, groans, the hum of excited chatter. Teammates exchanged quick reactions, the buzz of adrenaline filling the space. Azzi leaned forward in her seat, heart skipping once, then again, when she saw the Wings logo lined up across from theirs. Paige’s team.

Aaliyah bumped her shoulder. “This oughta be interesting.”

“Yeah,” Azzi said quietly, already thinking ahead. Already thinking of Paige.

She figured Paige was probably in a room like this too, surrounded by her own teammates, watching the same bracket unfold on a screen. Seeing their team’s name next to hers. In just a couple weeks, they’d be face to face again—on opposite sides this time. The thought hit hard, sharp and strange. Azzi reached for her phone. Maybe a quick text would make it feel a little more normal. Something light, something simple. 

AZZI: So… guess I’ll see you in the first round.

PAIGE: That you will. You ready to get cooked?

AZZI: You wish. I’ll try not to distract you too much out there.

It was a light exchange. Easy. Familiar. The kind of back-and-forth that used to come naturally between them, without thinking. The trading of texts, that little bit of teasing, settled something in Azzi she hadn’t realized was tense.

She smiled—really smiled—for the first time in days, not just the polite version she’d been putting on for everyone else. She felt her shoulders drop, like a weight she hadn’t named was finally loosening. It didn’t solve everything. It didn’t erase what still lingered between them. But it was something. A thread tugging back into place, reminding her that they still knew how to reach each other.

After their afternoon practice, Azzi sat quietly in the corner of the locker room, towel draped over her shoulders, half-listening to the hum of conversation around her. Her teammates were laughing about something one of the rookies had said, trading playlist recs and dinner plans like the world outside didn’t exist. Like nothing followed them off the court except soreness and sweat.

And for a moment, Azzi envied that ease.

None of them were headline material right now. No one was pulling clips from their college days or analyzing their body language in tunnel photos. No one was digging through their personal lives, stitching together narratives from grainy screenshots and speculation. They got to play the game, go home, live quietly. Azzi couldn’t remember the last time anything about her life had felt quiet.

She didn’t resent them—of course not. But still, the contrast sat heavy in her chest. A reminder of how exposed she felt lately. How exhausting it was to carry a relationship that wasn’t just hers anymore. How lonely it could feel to be watched by a world that didn’t know her but still had something to say.

Azzi stared at her phone for a long time before making the call. It wasn’t about Paige picking up. She knew she would. That wasn’t the fear. The fear was in what would come after. The conversation. The weight of what they hadn’t said yet. The possibility that her silence had done more damage than she realized.

Azzi chewed on her bottom lip, thumb hovering over the screen. She wasn’t sure she was ready. But she also knew it wasn’t fair to make Paige wait any longer.

She pressed Call before she could second-guess herself again.

Azzi’s screen lit up with Paige’s face. Her hair was pulled back in a loose bun, shadows under her eyes, a kind of tired that went deeper than physical exhaustion. Azzi felt something in her chest pinch. A flicker of guilt. A flicker of missing her so badly it almost made her breath catch.

“Hey,” Azzi said softly.

“Hey,” Paige echoed.

They sat in the quiet for a moment, just looking at each other. No one rushed to fill the silence. It should’ve felt awkward, but it didn’t. It just felt like a pause — a breath they’d both been needing, but didn’t know how to take.

“You look tired,” Azzi said.

“I am.”

The honesty in Paige’s voice made Azzi hesitate. She’d had things she wanted to say — a hundred half-formed thoughts she’d been sorting all day — but now they tangled up again, caught between her throat and the fear of saying it wrong.

“I’ve been thinking…” she started, then trailed off. Paige tilted her head slightly, waiting. Azzi swallowed. “I want to talk more — really talk — but I think maybe for now… we just need a breather.”

Paige’s brow creased. “A breather?”

“Not from us,” Azzi said quickly, waving a hand in front of the screen like she could erase whatever Paige was already assuming. “Just from… everything else. The media, the stories, all the press stuff that’s gonna blow up once the series starts. I just think maybe we should hold off on trying to make sense of all that until it’s over.”

Paige’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You mean… like keeping things private again?”

“No, I mean—” Azzi hesitated again. “Not like hiding. Just… hitting pause on everything around us. The noise. I don’t want it bleeding into our games or distracting us. I just want to focus on basketball without everything else piling on top of it.”

Paige didn’t say anything right away. She just nodded slowly — too slowly. Azzi could see the shift happen in real-time, the slight pullback in her posture, the subtle way her voice dimmed when she finally answered.

“Yeah. Okay. If that’s what you want.”

Azzi frowned. “Paige, I’m not saying I want space from you. I’m not asking for a break or anything like that.”

“I didn’t say you were,” Paige replied. But her tone was off — softer, guarded. Something about it made Azzi’s stomach sink.

“Then what did you hear?” Azzi asked gently.

“I heard you say pause,” Paige said, her eyes not quite meeting hers through the screen. “And I guess I just don’t know what that means.”

Azzi opened her mouth to explain again but stopped. She didn’t know how else to say it. Because she wasn’t sure what she meant, either. She wasn’t asking for distance, but she also didn’t know how to carry their relationship and the noise it attracted while trying to compete in her first playoffs.

“I just want to protect what we have,” she said finally, quiet and unsure. “That’s all.”

Paige nodded again, but it was faint. Automatic. Not real. Azzi could tell — the same way she always could.

“Focus on the series,” Paige said. “Then we’ll talk.”

Azzi wanted to push back, to explain more clearly, to say, I still want you. I’m not pulling away. But everything in her felt tangled. Nothing she could say right now would land the way she meant it to. So she just nodded too, even though it didn’t feel right.

As she sat in the quiet after their call, Azzi’s thoughts kept circling back—not just to Paige’s reaction tonight, but to everything Paige had fought through to get here. A few months ago, Paige had been the one gripped by fear. Hesitant. Guarded. Afraid of what the world might do to something she held sacred. And Azzi had pushed her. Gently, then fiercely. Told her their love deserved to be seen. That hiding wasn’t safety—it was surrender.

And Paige listened. She stepped up. She chose Azzi out loud. Again and again.

Now, Azzi couldn’t stop wondering—if the roles had been reversed, if she had been the one asked to stand in that spotlight first, would she have been brave enough to do it? Would she have chosen Paige as boldly as Paige had chosen her?

She wanted to believe the answer was yes. But sitting in this quiet, heavy with hesitation, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

And that unsettled her in a way no headline ever could.

[dalliancekay]

Crowley's Rank

This one's gonna be controversial, isn't it. Actually, let me pre-empt my rant with (another rant): It's not that I mind if Crowley was an Archangel or Dominion or whatever before he Fell. I don't think it makes that much difference. It could perhaps serve some narrative purpose but I don't really see it. To me, it makes no real sense for the story and I do see people using this idea so Crowley can be smarter, more powerful, more insightful, more aware and just you know, full of wisdom and knowledge that Aziraphale should have sat down and learned from a long time ago. This is my main gripe with this HC.

So. Here we go: I am baffled by how people assume and often even claim it is as good as canon that Crowley:

was an Archangel

or even more high up (which I don't think is possible in GO Universe)

knew all Heaven's dirty secrets (and that's why he knows SO MUCH more about Heaven than poor innocent Aziraphale*)

created the Universe

*who a) should have listened to Crowley when Crowley tried to tell him about it or b) Crowley didn't tell him about it because he didn't want to hurt poor Aziraphale with the truth about Heaven

When what we see in canon is (IMO) the opposite of all of that? Also, did Aziraphale somehow forgot that Crowley was high up?

We meet this sweet angel in Before the Beginning. He was sent to start up a Nebula in a remote corner of the Universe and he needs a helping hand.

The angel who meets him finds him adorable and enquires whether he designed the pretty *waves hands around* colours and stuff. And Angel!Crowley admits that...well he did not design it as such but... he did have an input! Angel!Crowley does not introduce himself which is definitely a deliberate move, however, it seems like he's simply too distracted and excited by his project for such proper niceties so he does not notice when his new friend looks a little put out by that.

So. Did Aziraphale know who Crowley was?* I like both yes and no answers. I think a crush at first sight is adorable; after all, Aziraphale's careful demeanour seems to suggest he does not meet carefree happy angels often. But perhaps he did come across him before and was hoping to make his acquaintance properly sometime and look, what luck he was nearby just now...

*Did Aziraphale know who Crowley was in Eden? Absolutely. They recognised each other (and I wonder what happened in the interim we did not see) and Aziraphale carefully waits for the demon to offer his new name.

Did Crowley create the Universe?

No, he started up a nebula, and he's clearly very excited about his job.

Angel!Crowley has not heard of the Earth, the humans, or what the whole project/universe is for, or how long it is planned to last.

That tells me, given that Earth and humans and the 6000 year Plan is literally the goal of it all; that he did not sit high up on the Universe planning committee and if anyone told him about it before, he did not pay attention. Which, honestly, is on brand for ADHD Crowley.

How come Aziraphale knows that certain suggestions and ideas would be unwelcome, should the two of them be overheard?

We don't know. But clearly whatever circles Aziraphale moves in, have alerted him to the fact that suggesting to improve things, would be a bad idea. And he did pay attention to the whole - we are creating a vast Universe to host a tiny planet for a human project that will last 6000 years and then be destroyed.

He also breaks the news about the Plan to Crowley who is clearly heartbroken about it. Much like the angels designing dinosaurs must have been I expect, working on them just so their bones could be buried in the Earth for a joke.

Next up for the argument for powerful Crowley:

Our lovely husbands aim for a tiny miracle to hide the runaway Archangel and its power creates mayhem in Heaven (and I assume in Hell too).

So why did this happen? I've heard of three possible explanations:

The husbands made it powerful, because they are (or their love is) powerful together, they just did not realise it. And that's my favourite one.

Gabriel inadvertently helped cos he's the Supreme Archangel (unlikely since he can't deal with his angel self while he's a 'Jim' for the rest of the season).

Crowley is so powerful he did it himself. Even though he insisted on making it very small, (I guess he just could not help himself).

Now, when he quips, how do you know I didn't do it - to the suggestion only a powerful Archangel could do it with Shax... it's just that. A joke. And a way to confuse.

After all, the Archangels laugh at the mere suggestion Az could do it too, but then HE CLAIMS HE DID and they believe him. Kind of.

So I don't think miracles are as clear cut as all that.

And anyway, it's impossible Hell would have forgotten if Crowley has been an Archangel in Heaven and second of all, it was funny, and a typical Crowley retort. Obviously Hell suspected Gabriel did it (and so did Heaven).

Crowley himself seems to think it's THEIR COMBINED fault. (If that is not foreshadowing, especially the way he throws it out there....)

Crowley can stop time.

And that's pretty cool. Very impressive. I wonder who else can do that. But does he have this power/knowledge because of his past high rank or because he worked at building the Universe? (And clearly loved his job?) ---- A small idea to share after a lil chat with my bestie @seaweednpeanuts who suggested that nobody actually knows if Aziraphale can't stop time. Perhaps he can, but he prefers that his darling does it for him. Because their precious dynamic works like that. Aziraphale adores to be indulged and Crowley loves to feel needed.

---

And now for the main course:

And:

"They never change their passwords."

Ok so I mean... you don't exactly have to be Sherlock Holmes to deduce triumphantly that Crowley was one of those.

Which, given Good Omens is anything but obvious and predictable, is exactly what Crowley is (was) not (yes, that's my HC, obviously).

How did he get to know the passwords then? Oh so many delicious possibilities. And so much more interesting (I think) than - he was so high up he knows everything.

Did he get them cos he wanted to check something? Did he get them for Lucifer and/or 'the guys'? Did he get them for Aziraphale? Did he get them from Aziraphale? Did he find out by mistake cos the 'high ups' did not pay attention to a lowly angel around important documents? Did he simply believe he can open the files?

And one more little thing:

Apparently, God on angel time was very limited if they are both in awe of Job being able to speak to God.

I mean we have no idea if Metatron ever actually speaks to Her, or the Archangels, but this seems to imply these two were not especially important.

And. I like that.

I want them to be two middling nobodies who overthrow the system because they came to love one another. It's such a running theme in Terry Pratchett books too. It's not the ministers and generals who overthrow governments, is it. It's someone in the crowd asking questions, and another someone wanting a proper kiss and deciding they'd wage a war for it. That's how revolutions start.

If I sound in any way disparaging towards Crowley, please note - I am not. But I am disparaging to fanon Crowley who I believe Crowley would despise.

[countbarov]

long post tldr hansry gay

I think there's a very important element of Hans and Henry's relationship that I don't see discussed much, and it's the simple fact that they're a gay couple. Unambiguously, unabashedly, thoroughly gay. And while this may not sound revolutionary, it actually is

Hans and Henry are far from the first gay romance in videogames, let alone media at large; but they're one of the very few I can think of where the character's gender and sexuality matter to the point it can't be divorced from the story. Swap any of their genders, and the romance won't make sense. Why? Because they're a gay couple

This stands in stark contrast with other wonderfully queer games and stories, where everyone is free to romance anyone, and there's nary a mention of who you prefer to bed. And it's nice to see such fantasies from time to time; Baldur's Gate 3, for one, is the best example for this approach, and I love it quite so very much. But none of the romances hit the same way. They're clean, perfect, and neatly wrapped up -- their character conflicts have more to do with their personal circumstances than with their sexual identities. Some characters are made explicitly bisexual, like Gale and Astarion, both of whom have past lovers with confirmed gender identities. But that's not enough. They still fall for the traps of playersexual characters, never making a single gendered comment towards you in any capacity. Your identity is meaningless here

This also leads to perfectly pure, idealised romantic relationships. The only conflict we can expect from these characters is to be displeased by our altruism or selfishness, or some pivotal moments in their personal quests which might lead to a breakup or, in extreme cases, their permanent departure. They're very well crafted, but they can't reach the depths of a truly gay or queer relationship

The only other example I can think of where a character is explicitly and purely gay is Steve Cortez from Mass Effect. His story is linked to his late husband, a pilot who died in battle. His story, should a male Shephard romance him, repeats itself at the end of the third game. But for all the good his inclusion does to the series, there's nothing about their love that can't be replaced with a woman. If Steve had been originally implemented as a woman in a lesbian relationship, nothing would be different save their names

Enter Hans and Henry, who are gay, and to whom being gay matters

Their romance flourishes in darkness, shrouded by respectability. And it doesn't flourish naturally, either, because it can't. Henry has never thought of Hans that way because he doesn't know how to. Unlike people in modern day, who have the luxury of exploring their sexuality whenever they want, Henry hasn't been afforded the possibility of a gay relationship. He expresses his love and care for Hans, which might not be entirely straight, openly -- because that's who Henry is. He wants to spend time with Hans, and cares about Hans far deeper than other squires do for their lords, but he doesn't think twice on it. Hans is his close friend, no? Shouldn't friends care for each other? And so Henry continues, developing strong feelings he doesn't have the language for, loving someone in ways he didn't know he could yet knows he shouldn't

Hans, by contrast, is a far more educated and worldly man. He's been exposed to courtly affairs and the kinds of excess nobility sometimes indulges. He knows that deep love between men is possible because he's heard of it, and we can only guess has seen it once or twice. Like Henry, he never examined it much, preferring the company of women. But then Henry, sincere to a fault, expresses dangerous sentiments to Hans. Hans then realises that, maybe, he doesn't just find Henry's company agreeable. That, perhaps, he doesn't feel just friendship and kinship. That, perchance, he could be falling in love with a man. A thing he knows is possible, a thing he knows is taboo, and a thing he can't express

Hans develops feelings for Henry whether you romance him or not. His poetry book is proof that, at the very least, he lusts for Henry, and at worst yearns for the man. The only thing that changes here is whether Hans has the courage to express his feelings to Henry, or not

And the romance scene is powerful for this very reason. When Hans thinks Henry has understood his story, shared his feelings, and placed a hand near Hans' thigh, he's emboldened. High on grief, hope, love, lust, desire, and fear. He reaches for a kiss that risks it all. Henry's initial reaction is confusion, if not a tinge of disgust, because he still hasn't seen the possibility of loving Hans beyond friendship until that point. But when he stops to consider how he feels about Hans, he closes the door and gives in to what he's been carrying without knowing

And this is gay. A GAY story about two men who slowly fall in love without trying to. Two men whose love is marked by their society, and whose circumstances lead to an explosion of passion otherwise impossible. Vávra confirms they wouldn't have gotten together in this particular way were it not for Henry's mission. Would they have gotten together regardless? Would they never have otherwise?

Their identities as bisexual men simply can't be erased from the narrative. And they are bisexual, mind you, whether your character chooses to interact with it or not. Hans always falls in love with Henry -- Henry always has the option of hooking up with Black Bartosh. They're bisexual, medieval, men

And I love that idk

[slaaverin]

Reading this brilliant post made me go through various emotions.

I'm not sure that I can articulate this well,

Jikook have been through so much together. SO MUCH. A decade of nerve-wracking experience, ups and downs, beauty and joy but also struggle. They've seen the best and worst of each other. They know each other on a level we can barely fathom.

And it got double downed by this military experience.

Some might say it's nothing compared to what their relationship endured before.

But I beg to differ.

Reading these stories and snippets of experience, it really puts things even more in perspective.

I'm sure jikook did their research about the buddy system and were aware of such things beforehand.

And yet, they said they weren't worried. They say they didn't think they would fight. Even if they were put in the worst unit. Even with all the hardships that were awaiting them.

They trust their relationship so much, they were confident their bond would come through the other side of this. They knew they wouldn't grow apart, first because of the band, they technically can't. But in their mind it wasn't even a possibility. There was no risk.

That's how certain they are of their bond.

But as stated by some of these soldiers, this enlistment, it is no small feat.

They still have to go through the hardship and the ups and downs. They still have to endure. And they are doing it.

They keep reinforcing how intertwined they are, by weverse messages and stories and shared wreaths.

From the looks of it they will come through and end up even stronger than before.

And it makes me shed rivers of tears because it is exceptional. It's jaw-dropping, astonishing, and so damn beautiful.

We live in a world when sometimes relationships are so fleeting and weak, so changable and painful and complicated, love in all of its shape isn't easy these days.

It should be, of course it should. But that's not most people's experience.

But then there is jikook and their bond. It is so incredibly rare that I can barely believe it.

(And we wonder why most people don't believe it...can we really blame them...)

Can jikook really come to the other side stronger? Can their relationship grow even more? Can their love deepen even with these hardships?

I think it will. I think it will.

And I don't even have words to say how incredible this is. There aren't enough superlatives in our vocabulary.

This only deserves our endless praises, celebration, love. It deserves to be cherished and shined upon because DAMN were you aware that this existed???? Not in a fantasy ideal world of how things should be, but in a tangible, real people with complex emotions way?

I'm in disbelief. I'm in disbelief for real.

This is...

This is what true love looks like. This is it. It's true love. It's unconditional love.

It's everything anyone could wish for.

I have only immense joy that jikook share that. Oh, how grateful we can be.

Don't mind me while I have emotional breakdowns the next few months. Let's brace ourselves. My heart isn't ready. I'm barely keeping it together now.

How boring must it be to have a life without jikook in it. People are truly missing out.

I'm gonna go make my edit and cry even more while doing it now

GOODBYE

Edit:

Great addition by @atlas-of-the-sea I totally agree 👏

One thing I loved and I guess I took a different approach based on the subtitles is that when they said that they weren't worried about fighting because they will support each other more than anything. I took that as it doesn't matter if we fight. (Not as if they won't fight) We'll be fine if we do, we have fought before and we got through it. It speaks on how deep their bond is, not matter what anyone classifies it as. They have shared a life together for so long, especially living together for more than 10 years. A bond like that can't be compared to that of friends that have known eachother since middle school for example. When you live with someone, you see more of their true colors than when you just share common hours of days with them as friends. And it's not because they have lived together that will make them better at resolving issues. It's the fact that they have very likely argued enough in their lives, that they have the mental capacity, maturity and understanding of eachother boundaries and ways of handling the situation. With a bond like that, you learn how to handle fights if you do love and respect eachother. Those are the only type of bond that last for life.

[pinkiemachine]

Hi! First off, I love your DC ideas!!! I was just wondering if you had seen the Green Lantern animated series and planned on doing anything with green lantern(s) in your DC stories?

He isn't even my favorite, I just love hearing your ideas and remember loving the show when I watched it last year. Again, love what you've come up with and drawn, hope you have a good day/night/whenever you read this!

*cracks knuckles*

Yes, I’ve recently heard that there’s a Green Lantern show in the works, and yes, I’ve been planning my own outline for a while now (however it sadly does not have as much framework as the rest of my BatFam or even Superman and Wonderman stuff.) BUT there are a few things to note purely based off the concept that I know are going to catch people off guard, so let’s jump into it!

First potentially controversial idea: Green Lanterns come in teams of four now! A squad, if you will. The team begins when Hal Jordon finds Abin Sur crash landed on Earth, and he inherits Abin’s ring. Hal is an ex-pilot for the Airforce, and while he mostly still enjoys being a test pilot for Ferris Air, he feels stuck in a rut and like he’s not really working toward anything—he’s got no mountain to climb, no dragon to slay, no big purpose for his life. So when the Lanterns come along, while he’s nervous at first, he eventually decides to give it a try. Before anything else, Hal is told about how the Lantern Rings work with the emotional spectrum. Each ring is equipped with an “emotion tracker” that registers your emotional wavelengths (anger, jealousy, fear, willpower, hope, compassion, love) and must all fall within exceptional margins before you’re considered ready for active duty. In this case, Willpower must be at a high level, and all the others must be at a constant mid-point range. (The idea being that if these levels go too high, you’re letting your emotions control you. If they’re too low, they’re being suppressed, and that’s not good either. Having them be somewhere in the middle, with Willpower as the dominant force, means you’re in touch with your emotions, but you have the will to control them and yourself.)

Now—the Green Lanterns are currently having trouble with another corps, the Red Lanterns, the ones responsible for Abin Sur’s death. So Hal is expected to find and form his unit of Green Lanterns as quickly as possible, so that they can be trained as quickly as possible, to join the fight as quickly as possible. No pressure. The first person he meets is John Stewart, an ex-marine who now works as an architect. He’s far more mature and level-headed than Hal, and it quickly becomes apparent that he’s more likely to receive the leader role for this squad from their superiors back on Oa. But John and Hal become good friends, so there’s no hard feelings.

The next person they find is Guy Gardner. Okay, that’s not entirely true, Guy found them. An impulsive, arrogant, loud-mouthed Army vet—the moment he learns about the Green Lanterns on Earth, he wants to know how he can get in on the action, and once he finds out that one of the prerequisites is you have to have a proclivity for strong willpower? He wants to know why he wasn’t considered first! So he’s a part of the team now. Because he said so. You might say he… WILLED it into existence! :D So now John has Hal and Guy to babysit.

Up next is their fourth member, Jessica Cruz. Jess was part of a special ops unit as a sniper, and one day she went on a mission with her team, and she was the only one who came back. She left the military shortly after, citing PTSD. She doesn’t like to talk about it. However, turns out that hiding away in a cabin in the woods trying to burry all your feelings isn’t always the best idea, because she soon finds herself attacked by a strange new creature calling itself “Paralax.” Our three Green Lanterns help her overcome this fear-feeding menace, and free Jessica from its hold, and she has a bit of a rude awakening moment. She thought she had been in such control of her feelings, but they were really controlling her. When the final lantern ring chooses her, she says she will think about it.

Now, here is the second potentially controversial change I’m making: Keli Quintella is a Blue Lantern! Come on, I think it’s high time some of the other lanterns got some love, wouldn’t you say? Besides, it’s only after she hijacks a lost Blue Lantern ring and uses it—without permission—and joins Earth’s Lantern Squad—without permission—that Jessica feels like she can finally accept her ring. It’s Keli that gives her hope that she can overcome her demons.

So now we have our team, and it’s time to go kick some Red Lantern patooties. Naturally, it doesn’t take long for the Yellow Lanterns to crawl back into existence after the Green Lanterns wiped them out a while back, and Hal’s rivalry with Sinestro, etc etc, but I’m still blocking everything out, because I do plan to incorporate Emerald Twilight and Blackest Night. Which means, yes, Kyle Rayner will be joining the team, but later on, after… well, I’ll just come out and say it. After Barry Allen’s death, Hal enters his villain phase in Emerald Twilight, trying to use all the willpower in the universe to bring Barry back, but it ends with Hal being stopped, kicked out of the Corps, and sentenced to life in prison on Oa. (Or, at least, that’s what I have in my first draft.) It’s during that whole mess that Kyle becomes a Green Lantern, and… yeah, it’s one chaotic time to be chosen, for sure. But there’s a reason he was chosen when he was, hehehehehe…

Anyhoo, there’s only one other character I’ve drawn so far, and that’s Star Saphire: I didn’t mean to draw her so small at first, but after it happened, I was like, “No wait, plenty of women are this short. Why not just make that one of her quirks? She’s got short person anger issues because people keep thinking she looks like a child.” lol. Of course, in a cartoon setting, some might start to make accusations, so maybe the idea won’t stand up to scrutiny, but I thought it would be cute. Anyway…

Now, not all of the lantern corps as we know them are in existence at the start of the show, because of reasons. Like, the GLs got rid of the Yellow Lanterns way back when. And then the Pink Lanterns and the Indigo Lanterns come into existence later too, and it’s all important because it’s leading up to a prophecy being fulfilled in Blackest Night. For the moment, though, I just want to classify each corps to make them more easy to understand as an organisation. So—

Red=Anger: Rogue Militia.

Orange=Jealousy: Lone Criminal.

Yellow=Fear: Terrorist Organisation.

Green=Willpower: Military/Police Force.

Blue=Hope: First Responders.

Indigo/Purple=Compassion: Church (sort of).

And then Pink=Love: …to be perfectly honest, I got nothing. Matchmaker service? XD You decide.

One final thing I forgot to mention: Yes, John gets appointed to be leader of the GL squad, due to his good performance record and his ability to wrangle the others. Hal, meanwhile, gets appointed to be their representative on the Justice League. I wanted to give both characters equal time to shine because I know they’re both fan favourites as lead GL characters, and this seemed like a good middle ground.

And I call this show: Green Lantern: Special Forces!

There are more story things, especially regarding Kyle, but this post is long enough already, so if you want more, just comment 💚 down below :)

Part 2 where I rant about KYLE 👇

[mocchiixxx]

Love or Legacy Series | #3: Fading Notes

(Hong Jisoo (Joshua) x Reader)

Genre: Angst, Romance, Drama, Idol AU

⚠️ WARNING: This is story is purely work of fiction. It does not reflect real-life events or SEVENTEEN in any way. This episode contains heavy angst, emotional distress, and themes of heartbreak and sacrifice. Reader discretion is advised. Please take care of yourself while reading.

Summary: Joshua believed in love—until his own became a scandal. When his secret relationship is exposed, the world turns against you, and the company gives him an impossible choice. He wants to fight, but you make the choice for him, walking away before he can lose everything. Now, the world celebrates his freedom, but every song he sings reminds him of the love he lost.

Joshua had always believed in love.

It was in the way he sang, in the way he wrote lyrics filled with quiet longing and soft confessions. It was in the gentle touch of his fingers against the strings of his guitar, playing melodies that spoke of forever.

But forever didn’t exist in his world. Not when he was an idol who have millions of fan.

And definitely not when love became a scandal. Not when your name was dragged through the dirt simply because you had the audacity to love him.

At first, he thought he could handle it.

He reassured you, whispering sweet promises that he’d find a way, that the world would move on, that love was worth fighting for. But he underestimated the cruelty of people who believed he belonged to them.

The hate was relentless.

Your social media was flooded with insults. Your private information was leaked. Fans demanded an explanation, demanded an apology, demanded you to disappear.

And then came the company’s final warning.

“You either end it now, or you prepare to lose everything. Your endorsements, your reputation, even the group.”

His stomach dropped. “You’re threatening SEVENTEEN?”

The manager sighed. “It’s not a threat, Joshua. It’s reality. You have a duty to your members, to your fans. One person isn’t worth the price of all of this.”

One person. His once soft expression hardened at that. His jaw clench painful tight so much that veins started to show on his neck and temple.

They talked about you like you were a problem to be erased. A stain on his otherwise flawless image.

But you were the one who had wiped his tears when he was exhausted. The one who had held him close when the pressure became unbearable. The one who had loved him not as Joshua Hong, the idol, but as Joshua, the man.

And now, they were asking him to pretend you never existed.

That night, he came home to find you sitting in the dimly lit apartment you once called home, his hoodie wrapped around you, your eyes red-rimmed but dry.

His heart drop at that sight of you.

You already knew.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, voice cracking under the weight of his grief.

You shook your head. “Don’t be. We always knew this day would come.” your soft but slightly raspy voice, probably for crying hard earlier echoes in the room.

Joshua felt his heart shatter. “That doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

You smiled. A small, broken thing. “Then let me be the one to make it easier.”

His breath caught as you reached for his hands, lacing your fingers with his one last time.

“We both know what you have to do,” you whispered. “So let’s not drag this out.”

His grip tightened. “No. Don’t do this. Don’t make this decision for me.”

Your eyes softened. “I have to, Josh. Because if you ask me to stay, I will. And I can’t be the reason you lose everything.”

Joshua felt helpless. Trapped between the love he desperately wanted to hold onto and the world that demanded he let it go.

“I... I don’t know how to live without you,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

You cupped his face, thumbs brushing away the tears he hadn’t even realized were falling. “You’ll learn. You have to.”

And just like that, it was over.

The next morning, the official statement was released.

'Joshua Hong and the individual involved have mutually decided to part ways. We ask for fans’ support as he continues his career.'

Fans rejoiced. The hate disappeared. The world moved on.

But in what exchange? The world may move-on but Joshua didn’t.

Because every time he picked up his guitar, every time he tried to write a love song, the lyrics felt empty.

And every time he sang about forever, he realized that...

Forever had left the moment you walked away.

Author's Note: This is purely fictional y'all. Please don't take it to heart, thanks🫶

[luvst4rc0r3]

I love the Loser!Jinx fics, there so funny and cute but I can’t help but think that no one believes in Jinx, like everyone believes she can’t do anything right and tell it to her face and to the reader. And I can’t help but the reader slowly getting mad at everyone for not believing in jinx or themselves being together and hoping for their downfall.

Overall: the reader getting mad at everyone so saying mean things about her loser girlfriend

Sorry if this was way to specific, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I do hope you have a great day tho!

It had been a long week. Between the whispers at school, the sideways glances, and the snickers from people who thought they knew better, Reader had nearly had enough. Every time someone so much as looked at Jinx, it was like they were waiting for her to mess up. And she did, sure—she was Jinx, after all, a wild, chaotic force of nature. But that wasn’t all she was.

Reader had seen the side of Jinx that no one else did. The one that hid behind that manic laughter, the one that cared deeply for the people around her, the one that was just trying to find her place in a world that had constantly kicked her down. But no one saw that.

No one except Reader.

-

It started with the comments in the halls.

"Did you see Jinx’s latest stunt? What a joke," someone sneered. Reader was walking beside them, trying to ignore it, but the words grated on her nerves like sandpaper.

"Yeah, how does someone that stupid even survive?" another voice added.

That was it. The last straw.

Reader’s hand curled into a fist, and her heart pounded in her chest. She hadn’t even realized she was walking faster until the voices were behind her.

“Jinx is more than her mess-ups. She’s more than the mistakes you keep throwing in her face,” Reader said, voice sharp. The words were out before she could stop them.

“Don’t get all defensive. She’s pathetic,” one of them spat.

That was the moment it clicked. The fury rose in Reader like a wave crashing over everything. She stopped, turned, and looked the person straight in the eye.

“Pathetic?” Reader’s voice was cold now, controlled but dripping with venom. “You don’t know her. You don’t see the hours she spends trying to make something of herself, trying to fix all the broken pieces no one else cares about. Maybe if you weren’t so busy tearing her down, you’d actually notice how much she’s trying.”

They all blinked, the words hitting harder than they’d expected. But the damage had been done, hadn’t it? The doubt in their eyes, the laughs they’d shared at Jinx’s expense—it was too much. Too far.

“I’m not going to stand here while you make her feel like shit. She’s mine, and I won’t let you tear her down anymore. So take your pathetic comments and shove them.”

The silence that followed was deafening, the whole group staring at Reader like they couldn’t quite process what had just happened. Reader didn’t care. They turned on their heel, storming off with a fire in their eyes that was impossible to ignore.

-

Later that day, Jinx was sitting by herself at the edge of the school grounds, fiddling with a broken toy she’d somehow managed to scavenge. Her usual chaotic energy was subdued, and her eyes looked tired, the weight of the day clearly starting to take its toll.

Reader walked over and sat beside her, the anger from earlier still simmering in their chest.

"Hey, you okay?" Reader asked softly, not wanting to push Jinx too much.

Jinx looked up at them, her lips curling into that small, hesitant smile that only Reader ever really saw.

“I’m fine,” she said, but her eyes told a different story. She was used to being the punchline, to being the odd one out. Reader could see it in the way her shoulders slumped, the way her hands shook slightly as she twisted the toy in her grip.

Reader reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly. “You know, I don’t care what they say. They don’t know you like I do. And they sure as hell don’t get to treat you like that.”

Jinx’s gaze softened, her blue eyes brightening just a little. She leaned into Reader’s side, resting her head against their shoulder.

“Thanks... I don’t really care about what they think,” she murmured, but Reader could feel the doubt still lingering in her voice. They kissed her forehead, pulling her closer.

“You should,” Reader said, voice fierce now, as if it could somehow shield Jinx from all the hurt that had been thrown her way. “You’re not pathetic. You’re worth more than any of them could ever see.”

Jinx smiled at that, a little more genuine this time. “You really mean it, don’t you?”

“Always.”

And that was enough. For now, that was enough.

-

The next day, the whispers were quieter. The snickers were less frequent. Reader wasn’t sure if they had changed anyone’s mind or if they’d just earned a bit of respect. But what mattered was that Jinx was a little less burdened by the weight of the world, and that meant everything.

The world could think whatever it wanted, but Reader would never stop believing in Jinx. No one else had to, as long as they did.

And that was all that mattered.

I want sleep

[lemotmo]

Plenty of room folks, let's go!

Q. Hello! This is my first ask to you, I have followed this blog for a long time, but I was here for the Sherlock of it all, and just never unfollowed as it slowly became a full-on 911/Buddie blog. Anyway I do watch 911 but as more of a casual viewer. I enjoy the show, but I've always been more passive with my viewing. Long time Peter fan, I love him! Sorry, the Buddie stuff always felt like bantering besties, I really hope that's not an insult on a Buddie blog?!? to me until the last 2 episodes. It was a noticeable shift in those episodes, especially from Buck in that final scene. That was romantic and even my husband yelled "holy shit Buckley's in love Diaz". It was pretty blatant from Buck but the Eddie stuff was more interesting because the close up on his face strongly implied that he was also having a very hard time with this and that he's definitely struggling with his emotions as well. I never thought of them as a couple but now that I have I kind of really need see it, haha. How long has this been going on?? Have I missed a lot of stuff between them? Because I can't believe I never noticed it until now! Love the blog btw!

A. Hello, anon! This ask made my day, thank you. There is something so genuinely endearing about this ask and I'm so happy you reached out! First of all I cannot even remember when I last made a Sherlock post so you have been here a while, lol. And no worries, calling them bantering besties is not at all an insult. They are best friends and they do banter so you didn't say anything wrong. They're also best friends who are about to become lovers though, and you picked up on things exactly when you were supposed to so don't worry about missing anything. You're the exact type of viewer these last 2 episodes were written for. As for how long it's been going on well that answer will vary depending on what Buddie fan you ask. They've been 'shipped' together since season 2 and we can all give you a very long list of things that have 'happened' between them that did not feel or look strictly platonic. But you, and your husband, noticed it exactly as you were supposed to. Buddie shippers are already there. We're already waiting, we've been waiting, lol. They didn't need to explicitly show us the shift, but they did need to show the GA, viewers like you and your husband, the shift so that's what these last two episodes, especially episode 10, were written as blatantly as they were.

Your husband is correct, Buckley is in love with Diaz. Buck just isn't aware of that himself yet, but that realization is coming for Buck really soon. Well done on picking up the Eddie stuff, although it was played perfectly by Ryan, there are some people who, incorrectly and ignorantly, believe he didn't portray his part strongly enough. If the GA picked up on Eddie then clearly Ryan did what he was supposed to do and he did it well. Eddie's behind Buck just a bit in terms of realizations. We don't yet know Eddie's sexuality situation, something we will likely get a clearer picture of in the coming episodes. The GA needs the blanks filled in on Eddie and it sounds like that information is coming sooner rather than later. Long story short, lol, you noticed things exactly as you were supposed to, anon. The show needed viewers like you, and your husband, to notice the difference between the two in order for their relationship to not feel 'out of nowhere' to the general audience. You don't have to go back and rewatch their scenes, BUT if you do rewatch things, with your new found perspective, I would love for you to drop me your thoughts on those scenes now! Welcome to the ride, glad to have you. Enjoy the things to come. 🩷

Thank you Nonny!

AAAAH! I love this so much. I've seen so many people of the GA 'waking up' to the Buddie epicness over the course of the two last episodes. It's wonderful.

I'm so looking forward to seeing more of these people jumping out of the woodwork, wondering how long this buddie thing has been going on.

What a great time to be in this fandom. So grateful right now!

🤗🤗🤗

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.