#i never did this one because if someone else had done it before then i didn't do it

[dreamsteddie]

AITA Steddie Au Part Three

Part Two

Hello! Sorry for the delay! This week was very busy with student conferences and my own midterms so I haven't had a lot of time to work on this. This is more of an interlude building up to bigger things, but I hope you enjoy it!

Also! Get in the comments if you have any ideas of an actual name for this series so I can stop calling it AITA Steeddie Au. I can't think of anything good 😓

------

Eddie takes Steve on that second date.

And then a third and a fourth and eventually he stops counting because he's seeing Steve as often as he can between their jobs and other responsibilities. He feels high off it, giddy with possibility and hope for this new thing that he's never had before.

Eddie has done relationships before, a couple of times. A small handful of boys and girls he took out on dates and tried his best to woo all went up in flames one way or another, but none of those relationships left him feeling so gone so fast. He felt like he was always holding himself back from giving himself up completely, too afraid of falling without a safety net to reach for that deep devotion he's always craved.

Steve makes him feel like they're plunging into that unknown together.

Still, no matter how much he's been trying to avoid it, the looming specter of what the hell to do about his friends is looming over his head.

------

"Are you fucking serious right now dude?" Eddie asks, a complicated mix of righteous anger, humiliation for himself and Steve, and complete disbelief at Gareth's unwillingness to back down from this making it increasingly difficult to keep his cool.

"Look man, all I'm saying is that Steve is like, the complete antithesis of literally everything we stand for. He's a nepo baby business major who's never had an original thought in his life! I would know! I've read one of his papers." Gareth says, forced nonchalance coloring his tone and riling Eddie up even more.

He rears up, shoulders pushing back and hands grasping at the air like he could pull down his frustration from the either and condense it into a solid ball he could lob at Garteth's head to finally knock some goddamn sense into his brain.

"Hey, hey, hey. Okay, Eddie, I'm really sorry about this. It was a fucked up idea, I don't know what we were thinking." Jeff interveins before the frustrated banshy noises Eddie is letting out turn into another yelling match that won't get anyone anywhere.

"I think we just got too caught up wanting to help you get out of this rut and it all turned into something completely insane. You don't gotta forgive us Eddie, but if there's anything we can do to try and make up for it, we'll do it. Isn't that right Gareth?" Jeff pointedly asked with a look that says agree with me right now or else.

Gareth doesn't say anything.

The thing about all of this that Eddie just can't wrap his head around is the why. Why would his friends, his sheepies, do something so cruel? He knows none of them have ever looked kindly at people like Steve. Too many traumatizing high school humiliations behind them all to trust when someone who looks so much like all the guys who bullied them in high school tries to reach out, but Gareth and Jeff have never tried something like this. In fact, it's used to be Eddie doing most of the anti-jock revenge planning back in the day, even if nothing ever actually came from it.

He thought, incorrectly it seems, that they had grown out of the worst of it by now. It's been three years since Garteth graduated, and five since Eddie made his final attempt, and leaving their hometown behind did a lot to heal old hurts.

So why this? Why now?

"Is this seriously how it's going to be man? You won't tell me what the fuck any of this was really about and you're not even going to try and apologize? Seriously?" The righteous anger is starting to seep out of him, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion.

Gareth just continues to stare at him defiantly, not saying a word.

Eddie pinches his nose and takes a deep breath, "You know what? Fine. Whatever. If this is how it's going to be then I'm out. Jeff, I'll talk to you later, probably not for a little bit though. Gareth?" The other man lifts his head from where he'd been looking down at his shoes. There were tears in his eyes, just a little bit but enough for Eddie to clock it. Face red from some unnamed cocktail of emotions Eddie doesn't have the energy or desire to interrogate right now. "Call me when you're ready to grow the fuck up. I've got a second date to plan."

With that, Eddie turned on his heel and made for the open garage door.

"What about the band, man?!" Gareth called.

Eddie kept walking.

-------

That was over four weeks ago.

He hasn't spoken to Gareth for most of that time. The first couple of days he blew up his phone with angry to half-apologizing texts that Eddie promptly ignored. After the second day, he sent a single text back letting him know he didn't want to talk unless he had a real explanation and apology to give both him and Steve and that he was going to block his number for a little while. He could let Freak know if he was ever ready to talk like adults. Eddie trusted him to tell if Gareth was being genuine.

In other news.

Waking up to strong arms secured around his naked waist is fast becoming Eddie's favorite way to start the day. He and Steve slept together for the first time last week, and since then it's like neither of them can get enough of each other.

"Hey, baby." Steve rasps in his ear, tilting his head down to smear sleepy kisses onto his shoulder. The hand that was resting against his ribs meanders its way down to the trail of hair under his navel, scratching just a little and making Eddie feel like a contented mutt. He's not sure if he should feel horny or like he could sink into the mattress and sleep for another full 8 if Steve keeps holding him like his.

"Mornin' sweetheart." he says deciding that a couple more hours of sleep is definitely the way to go. Steve, it seems, has other idead.

"What you thinkin' about this early in the morning?" He asks, hand continuing to scratch lazily at Eddie's stomach like he's not completely destroying Eddie's will and ability to focus on anything but the warm body behind him.

But it's been a long time coming, and as much as he doesn't want to, Eddie needs to start thinking about what he wants to do about his friends? former friends? estranged family? band and Steve deserves to be a part of the conversation.

Eddie sits up, bringing Steve up with him to rest against the headboard. "I've been thinking about the band. Gareth and Jeff, that is." He pauses, waits for some kind of reaction that doesn't come. Steve looks concerned, but not in the way he thought he would.

"Ok." Steve responds, waiting for more.

"I guess I just don't know what to do." He looks out into the middle distance of Steve's bedroom. Takes in the display of swim, basketball, and baseball trophies displayed proudly on a shelf, catching the early morning light. "I'm still so fucking mad. It's honestly kind of irritating how mad it makes me to think of what they did. It was so fucking stupid."

Steve hums a little, letting Eddie get it out.

"But at the same time I can't help but fucking miss them. Miss the music and the campaigns and everything else." It's honestly been eating him alive, the mix of anger and longing he's been feeling for his friends. The constant longing to go back in time and stop them from concocting this shit show but also, like, stalk Gareth to his 8 AM Business class so he can run into Steve and they can fall in love at first sight or some shit.

Silence.

Steve shifts. Moves so he can look Eddie right in the face. He looks thoughtful in a way that Eddie had to get used to. Sometimes when Steve is thinking hard about something, he scrunches his face in such a way that it makes him look like he's judging you. He isn't, it's just an unfortunate fact of life that his baby has a resting Judgemental Face™.

Steve heaves out a big breath, bringing Eddie back down to earth. "I mean, I don't want to, like, cloud your judgement or whatever but maybe you should try and talk to them one more time. Jeff appologized right?"

And, ok that's definetly not what Eddie was expecting to hear. It must show on his face because Steve is suddenly looking away, embaraced.

"I just..." He trails off, taking his own turn staring out at the dull shine of his old acomplishments. Eddie watches as his face once again turns pensive as he stares harder at the remnents of his high school acheivements.

"I used to be a pretty shitty guy. Did the same kind of shit your buddies did a couple of times." This isn't necessarily news to Eddie. They've talked a little about who Steve was in high school and how much work he put into himself before he decided to go back to college. It's still a bit of a shock to hear, though.

"So I get how someone can make a mistake like that, y'know? So if you want to try and talk it out, I won't be offended. I know we're in this together, now." Peace said, Steve reaches for Eddie's hand and gives it a squeeze.

It hits Eddie again, just how good Steve Harrington is. It hasn't been long, not really, since they got together but they've fallen together so completley, so easily, that it's easy to forget that there's still so much they have to learn, so many layers for Eddie to peal back. Behind every judgemental remark and complaint about the frequent phone calls he gets from chuldren he used to babysit in his hometown is a man who cares deeply and is capable of great forgiveness, even if it hasn't been earned yet.

Eddie squeezes his hand back.

"Are you sure?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah, it's not we have to totally forgive them, right? But I think you need to get a real answer from both of them about why it happened. Maybe you can find a way past it, maybe they'll say something that puts the nail in the coffin." He responds.

Eddie takes a deep breath, and thinks.

Steve is right. Eddie isn't satisfied with any of the answers he got last time, and he knows that there has to be more to the story than "trying to get Eddie out of a rut" and he's not going to be able to put any of this to rest until he understands.

"Ok, yeah. I'll call them." Steve gives him an encouraging smile at that, rubbing the back of Eddie's hand where they haven't let go yet.

"Good, I'm glad. And I can come with you if you want. Hit em from both sides." he says. Eddie think's he'll take him up on that offer, but right now he had more imporant things to do. Namely, tackling his sweet boyfriend onto the mattress and having a mid morning tousle.

"We'll see. Right now I've got more imporant things to do." He says in his best aproximation of a sultry voice. He doesn't know how good it really is, but it seems to work based on the way Steve's eyes get hooded and he looks down at Eddie's mouth.

Gotcha.

Before Steve can lean down and kiss him, Eddie snaps his hands down to his boyfriend's sides in a well executed tickle atack. Steve immedietly jolts and starts howling with laughter, yelling between breaths that Eddie is "a fucking asshole" as he continues his relentless atacks.

Eventually, Steve manages to regain his bearings and go on the offence, turning them over and trapping his boyfriend's hands beneath his knees so he can atack Eddie's equally ticklish sides.

Once the late morning has passes into early noon and they've both settled back into Steve's signifigantly more rumpled be, Eddie takes one more moment to think about the furute to come before he shelves it. He knows that whatever conversation is to come, it won't be easy, and even if things go as smoothly as possible with Gareth and Jeff, things will never be the same between them all.

Looking down at Steve, who is sporting the most outrageous bedhead in human history, laughing at the stream of reals Robin sent him in the middle of the night, he thinks he'll be okay either way.

Tag List

@wheneverfeasible @the-dark-hearts @sofadofax @wrenisfangirling @whatfinestandsfor @lilpomelito @raisedbylibrarians @ollyxar @mugloversonly @xxbottlecapx @hezaaxdexangelous @kimsnooks @that-one-gay-crow @travelingtwentysomething @shoujo-wizard @stripey82 @live-laugh-love-dietrich @cr0w-culture @notaqueenakhaleesi @bookworm0690 @r0seprincess @estrellami-1 @little-annie @dreamercec @tinyplanet95 @rawrx3ky-txt @bexinator3000 @justalittledrainbamage @scarletyeager @themoonagainstmers @yesdangerpls @mydysfunctionallife @maverickricky @silentiumdelirium @i-amthepizzaman @samsoble @foolishness-and-confusion @dragonmama76 @gregre369 @thewickedkat @lexr86 @martinskis-lydias

[hyperions-light]

The Poison Fruit Ripens

#defendingtheending here we go

First of all mega super ultra spoilers for the ending teaser that Steam says like… 6% ? Of players have seen? So you’ve been warned. No cuts baby, it’s Miyazaki style

Okay, so it’s the Executors, and they’re probably coming across the sea in the next game (if EA doesn’t nuke BW), from what I can gather. I mean, this is fine from a lore perspective. All we knew about those people before is that 1) they are mysterious 2) they are from over there, across the ocean

And now they’re maybe connected to the revealed Qunari lore, which I am ! So excited to have! We already knew that the Qunari fled across the ocean for unspecified reasons, and that going back there was Not A Thing. But now we know that they left because of the (probably metaphorical?) Devouring Storm, which could be connected to the Executors. What are the odds that there are two separate Huge Bad Things Over There that both want to destroy Thedas? Probably is just one big thing— also the title Executor implies they are doing the bidding of someone else, so whatever the Qunari were talking about could be it. (They also talked about being agents of someone else’s will in the Inquisition War Table quest).

So the cinematic shows a bunch of our prominent villains from the previous games being influenced in some way by the Executors. Which I think people are upset about, but I think it’s fine because:

- They did not really specify the manner of influence. I would be annoyed if they retconned Loghain’s decision to leave Cailan on the battlefield because it makes him interesting, but they didn’t say that. They just said they influenced his decisions. They could have done that by stoking his paranoia about Orlais, or by planting Arl Howe to influence him after the battle. He did a lot of OOC stuff while he was King Regent, and this could be a chance to explain what didn’t make sense for his previously established character and was just put in there to make him seem Very Evil.

- They also were around some people doing a blood magic ritual… there weren’t enough of them to be the Magisters, technically, but that is usually what it looks like when we see them in DA art so I’m going to assume that’s them for now. I mean that’s wild if that’s what it is bc that was such a long time ago? Thee guys have really been playing the long game I guess

- The other person they directly influenced seems to be Bartrand, which is really easy because who the fuck gave him that damn map? We NEVER found out who pointed Bartrand to the Thaig! Someone did it, and they probably did it on purpose! It may as well be these guys

- the rest of the villains don’t get guys whispering to them, so I have to assume they mean to imply that they just set up the circumstances that would lead to these people gaining power. I mean someone sent the Carta to the Vimmark mountains, right? And there was like some weird demon there, too.

-So basically they’re just implying that these people have been manipulating events to make sure that shit in Thedas is hitting the fan all at once, which does kind of explain the frankly improbable number of world-ending events that have happened during the Dragon Age. I mean, three Blights, two Magisters, two Evanuris, Antaam invasion, major mage rebellion, Templar schism, and the death of the Southern Divine? It’s only been like 50 years!!! Before the Dragon Age there had only been four Blights since the Ancient Age! Shit does not normally happen this fast in Thedas

I think the phrase itself is pretty direct (also giving Southern Reach vibes). All this chaos they helped sew is reaching its culmination, and now they’re getting ready to cash in the chips. They’re coming to Thedas at the moment that all the great powers are at their weakest, when there’s basically no one to oppose them. Tevinter? Fucked. Qunari? No military anymore. Antiva? Haha! lol, even. Fereldan? Basically gone. Orlais? In shambles. Free Marches? Decimated. Anderfels? There’s like 100 Wardens left in a swamp. Nevarra? I actually don’t know, maybe the lichlords can do something. Maybe Rivain could field some token resistance if they didn’t get hit by the Antaam too badly, but that’s kind of it IMO. This is THE time to come in and conquer(?) the land, or whatever they’re trying to do. Kill everybody?? Turn them into Darkspawn? Who knows!

Some speculation about what could be done to repel invasion:

- shit ton of blood magic

- fix titans, wake them up??? But idk if they’d be into it

- adaari, but idk if there are that many

- people with dragon blood, like the Theirins, are maybe super special and can do things?

- pirates, baby!!! Woooooo!

- I guess Mythal could know something? She can see the future a bit

- dragon army! Dragon army!!

[captainsophiestark]

Dance Like Nobody's Watching

Dick Grayson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Fandom: DC

Day Twenty-Seven Prompt: "Let me remind you."

Summary: Dick's SO is having trouble adjusting to the new scrutiny of attending Wayne galas as his date, but thankfully, he has an idea to help with that.

Word Count: 1,449

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sipped my champagne, trying to get a handle on my nerves. I could handle fighting the Joker and Scarecrow with no problems, but attending a Wayne gala as the partner of Dick Grayson was throwing me for a loop.

I fought the urge to scowl about it. If one thing could make this night more awkward, it would be some person I barely knew finding me making faces in the corner.

What irritated me the most was that this was by no means my first Wayne gala. I'd grown up with Dick and spent countless hours in the manor with him and his family. We'd been each other's primary entertainment at these things as kids. But being here as his date, and as an adult expected to do more than turn the banquet tables into a fort, was turning out to be surprisingly stressful.

When we were kids, nobody seemed to care what we did much beyond just noticing and thinking we were cute. Now, it seemed like everybody in this room wanted something from Dick, and either saw me as a threat to their ability to get it or as a secret backdoor to him, if only they could get me on their side.

I was seriously on the edge of losing it and going back to the buffet tables kid-style.

Dick had done his best to stick with me, but people kept showing up to pull both of us away from each other for a conversation, and we hadn't been able to do much without being incredibly, obviously rude. I'd finally managed to extract myself enough for some breathing room, but I could see Dick still in the middle of things, a group of old men who almost certainly wanted money from Bruce talking his ear off.

Even from here, I could tell Dick was barely paying attention to them. His eyes scanned the crowd, and after a moment, they landed on me. He raised an eyebrow, and I gave him a reassuring smile. Unfortunately for me, he knew me too well and was too good of a detective to believe it.

Dick quickly made his excuses to the men around him, and didn't take no for an answer as he left the conversation and headed in my direction. He crossed the massive room quickly to stand before me, and this time when I smiled at him, it was much more genuine.

"Hey," he said, returning my smile and leaning in to kiss my temple as soon as he reached me. "How are you doing?"

"Good." I tried to strengthen my smile, but Dick saw right through it. He raised an eyebrow at me.

"...Are you sure?"

I sighed. "It's just... this all feels a little weird. I've known you forever, you know it's never been important to me that you're the famed son of billionare Bruce Wayne. But it seems like that's all anybody else here can think about, and they all either hate me because they want to be with you or want to be my new best friend, all so they can get to you and Bruce. It's fine, none of their opinions matter to me, but... I just didn't expect to feel so weird coming to one of these things again."

Dick took a step closer to me, reaching out to take my arm with a concerned look on his face. He spoke quietly enough that, even if someone had been intentionally eavesdropping (which had happened more than once tonight), they wouldn't be able to hear him.

"Do you want to go? I'm happy to leave if you want to. We don't have to stay here."

I shook my head before he'd even finished his sentence.

"Running and no-showing Bruce's galas isn't a long-term solution. And seriously, it's fine, I'll adjust. I just... I don't know. I miss the days where we hid under the punch bowl giggling out of sight of everybody, you know?"

My boyfriend grinned. "I mean, if you really think about it, there's nothing keeping us from doing that again."

"I can think of a few things," I laughed, swatting his shoulder lightly. He hummed, but sobered quickly as he scanned the room, clearly thinking.

"Well... if you're sure you don't want to commandeer the space under the desert table?"

"I'm sure."

"Then why don't we try dancing? That's a little more... socially acceptable than hiding under the tables, but it's one of the things we used to have the most fun doing at these things. Remember how we'd just take over the entire floor to do whatever we wanted when we were kids?"

I laughed. "Yeah, of course. Although it's a little harder to remember the feeling that inspired us to just run out there before."

Dick smiled softly and extended his hand to me.

"Let me remind you."

My heart did a little backflip, especially when I met Dick's sparkling blue eyes. I huffed a little laugh of disbelief, especially at the thought of stepping into the center of the spotlight when I knew just how many people were going to be watching. But then I looked at Dick again, and I decided that, as long as I was with him, they didn't matter.

I took his hand, and he didn't waste a second before pulling me after him to the dance floor. I laughed, unable to hold back a smile even as heads turned towards us. Dick ignored them completely. He pulled me to his chest when we reached the center of the floor and wrapped an arm securely around my waist, the other taking one of my hands. I rested my free hand on his shoulder, and as we started swaying together to the music, his eyes didn't leave mine for a second.

"You know..." he started after a moment, drawing my attention back from a glance over his shoulder to where people were watching us. "This is nice, but a slow dance wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

I gave Dick my full attention and raised an eyebrow.

"I'm almost afraid to ask, but... what did you have in mind?"

He grinned. "Something more like this."

Suddenly, Dick was spinning me out and away from him, twirling across the floor before pulling me back. We'd know each other long enough and spent enough time as vigilante teammates that his steps were easy to follow, even as he started something closer to swing that didn't match the music at all.

I laughed, a warm feeling spreading through my chest as I shared a smile with my partner. In the back of my mind, I knew more people were probably watching and judging than ever. But suddenly they didn't matter like they used to.

Dick swung me around again, then pulled me close and into an exaggerated dip. If I didn't know he was a superhero, I probably would've been a little worried about him dropping me. Instead, it just made me laugh, especially as Dick grinned and led me into something way too close to something you'd do to Cotton Eye Joe.

With every second that passed on the dance floor with Dick, everyone else in the room faded further and further away. It felt like when we were kids, just me and the most important person in the world to me having the time of our lives.

"Feel any better?" asked Dick, whispering in my ear as he pulled me close again, both hands wrapped tight around my waist. I smiled, running my hands up his arms and across his shoulders.

"So much better. Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me. We're partners, you know I'd never leave you hanging."

I pulled back enough to meet Dick's eyes, and found their familiar sparkle and a smile waiting for me. I gave him a soft smile back.

"I love you, Dick Grayson. So fucking much."

Dick beamed back at me. "I love you too. Now come on, the band's finally catching on to what we want. I want to dance with the love of my life to music that's actually fun for dancing."

I just laughed as Dick swung me out and away from him again, the two of us twirling across the floor, this time in sync with the now-faster music. Suddenly, after a few minutes with Dick, the propsect of all these Wayne galas didn't seem nearly so daunting anymore. Sure, I might have to deal with a few unpleasant strangers whose opinions didn't matter to me. But I'd also get to do this, laughing and dancing and having the time of our lives, with my favorite person in the world.

Worth it in the long run, as far as I was concerned.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

DC Taglist: @gaychaosgremlin @v1ckycheesue @lavender-dinos @g0atmansbridge182

[chaifootsteps]

anon who talked about the show being uncomfortable addressing the full moon, part 3!

I think part of the reason I'm not convinced Stolas has learnt anything, on top of everything else I mean

is when Blitzo does the roleplay thing or even the morning after when he comes onto Stolas again

Stolas never once asks 'do you actually want that? or do you just think that's what I want and you still think you need to please me sexually?' he never bothers thinking about the effects his actions have had on Blitzo, because he can barely bring himself to actually acknowledge what he's done. as long as he can reframe the monthly hookups as romantic nights that were the only spark of joy in his miserable life, he can ignore that from Blitzo's perspective it was just about sex because that was all Stolas ever wanted and used him for

if he really thought Blitzo was there as a prisoner, you'd think he'd be more concerned that Blitzo was the one who'd been acting the entire time because he thought he had to please his jailer. which Stolas is - if Blitzo is the prisoner that makes Stolas the jailer. especially since Blitzo's immediate response to Stolas' confession is assuming it's roleplaying and being like 'never done this before but I can improv it'

that's the response of someone who has spent a long time doing whatever someone else wants to keep the lights on that it's basically an automatic response by now

but Stolas doesn't care about that, or at least not as much as he does getting Blitzo to be his boyfriend immediately. he doesn't care about why Blitzo jumps to a roleplay response and he doesn't care about Blitzo's incredulous little 'wait, you were serious?'

instead he takes offense because he deluded himself into believing there was something more than sex and it hurts his feelings when he has it shoved in his face that no, he was lying to himself the whole time. that's why the rant of incredulity about 'I've wanted you for so long but that you couldn't believe I might have these feelings, that you make it all about sex'

the idea that he's treated Blitzo as a sextoy doesn't matter in the way it would for a normal person - that he's done wrong by someone else and needs to fix it. it only matters because it blocks him getting what he wants i.e. romantic love from someone who will drop everything to fulfil his childish fantasies

Bingo. He didn't really care about whether he was keeping Blitzo as a sexual slave and whether that made him a monster, only the possibility that it would prevent him from getting the fairy tale romance he wanted. And when sure enough, it did, he threw a raging temper tantrum and trashed Blitzo in private and public.

[lexxiie]

could i request a imagine for shigaraki and hawks for a reader who loves to dance? ty!

When You Love To Dance

Yesssss!!!

Fandom: My hero academia

Featuring: shigaraki, hawks, dabi, overhaul x fem reader

SHIGARAKI

He knows you love to dance ever since he met you, but, as you may imagine, that's not really his field of expertise. When you go to events where dancing is common, you usually stay sat. You do it because you want to, and you don't wish to leave him alone, still, he feels bad about it.

A week ago, he asked you to teach him. He said he'd like to dance at least a bit with you when necessary, which obviously had you jumping with joy.

That's what led you here. A week later, on your living room, attempting to learn the basics. This had been the funniest experience for the both of you, at this point you didn't even care if he learned or not, the dancing lessons where enough of a reward.

You laughed loud as he stumped on your foot for the third time, and he pretended to be angry. "Stop!" You yelled while pushing him away from you, however, his feet got caught with the rug and he fell over you. Both of your bodies hit the floor shortly after and minutes went by before you could stop laughing. "I'm done, I don't want to do this anymore." He said, now annoyed, but you could tell he was just embarrassed. "Does that mean you don't like practicing with me?" You asked, making the saddest face you could. He couldn't resist it. "I do! I like it, It's just that I'm really bad at this and-" You cut his desperate babbling off with a kiss. Needless to say, the dancing sessions went on for longer.

HAWKS

Oh Hawks loves dancing as well, and he's fairly decent at it, too. He actually first met you at a party to commemorate heroes. You were there because of a friend and he was one of the stars of the event.

He was talking to a couple of his friends when all of a sudden, he stopped listening to everything they were saying when the most beautiful person he'd ever seen crossed his eyes. You were dancing with your friend and you looked absolutely gorgeous, he couldn't remember the last time he had been so attracted to someone, but here you were.

He had to approach you, and he did. He introduced himself (which wasn't needed) "I saw you from afar, and I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn't ask you to dance at least one song with me." He said this as he offered you his hand, however, you looked back at your friend who hadn't come here with anyone else. "Thank you, but I'm good here," you responded with a kind smile, but before the hero could say anything else, your friend kicked you subtly, but hard. "Ouch!" You exclaimed as you turned to her, her face begging you to go with him. "Fine, one song won't make any harm." You told the hero. His face lightened with pure joy, and you definitely did not dance just one song. If he wasn't in love with you before, he totally was by the time the party was over.

Taking this precedent into account, dancing with you brings him great memories, so he loves it as much as you do.

DABI

He's not a dancer. It's not that he's terrible at it, he can surprisingly fend for himself on that field, though he isn't great either. The thing here is that he feels a bit ridiculous when he dances, at least not in public. Unless he's having a big melodramatic moment.

In private, however... He's the kind of man who whines about everything, but he's never ever complained when you approach him to dance in the comfort of your home. He actually likes it that way, he loves having you in his arms, and he enjoys doing anything that you love. Even if he pretends he doesn't.

And he loves to pretend that he's annoyed when you dance, as you do it quite often. Just like now. Dancing all over the kitchen with a bowl full of pancakes batter on your hands. "You'll drop that." He says as he rolls his eyes at you. "Of course not! I know what I'm doing!" You respond with a big smile on your face. "Come on, don't be such a killjoy, you should join me." He looks at you like you just said the dumbest thing ever, which only encourages you to put the bowl down and force your boyfriend to dance with you. He shows resistance at first, but you win him over quite quickly. The frown he had at first, now replaced by a subtle smile. It's just so hard to say no to you.

OVERHAUL

I mean... Define dancer. He isn't great at a club, but he sure is a good dancing partner at a wedding. Slow dancing is more his thing.

He doesn't love it, but he doesn't hate it either. He feels indifferent towards dancing overall, but he does not feel indifferent towards you at all. He'll comply with whatever makes you happy.

Kai had a very busy week. Your birthday was coming and he really wanted to throw you a nice party for your closest friends to attend, the thing is, he struggles a bit to keep it simple, so what was meant to be a tiny reunion, turned into a somewhat big event. He just felt like you deserve everything he can give you.

It had been a lot of work, but he was more than happy to do it. Especially now that he had you in his arms, with a beautiful dress, and the dancing floor under your feet. "Thank you so much, Kai." You say to him before laying a kiss on his lips. "Happy birthday, love. Anything for you." He responds, as he pulls away and places a strand of hair behind your ear. He would've never imagined himself doing this for anyone else, he thinks as he turns you around. He must really love you, right?

Masterlist

[griffinborn]

ARCANE ENDING ANALYSIS

****obviously SPOILERS ahead****

Everyone is debating whether jinx is alive or dead so here’s my thoughts first I’m going to try and explain my view on WHY jinx is alive but made to look dead and then I’m going to prove HOW she is Alive. And why air vents have nothing to do with it.

WHY JINX IS ALIVE

With ARCANE coming to an end we are to believe that The piltover part of the show is over, the reason?

Well… we all think this season felt rushed, the beats didn’t land properly and character development felt shallow. That is because it was rushed it’s been 9 years since they started writing this story arc and they wanted to end this story arc that had to end at this point in this way.

if they could have produced the more quickly over a shorter period of time they would have streched the arcs and have had better pacing but it’s a long time and they wanted to move on to the next arc of this universe.

That doesn’t mean this is the last we’ll see of these characters or even piltover as a lot of piltover champions haven’t been introduced because this wasn’t the arc for that yet. We get hints of that as we see sevika become a councillor but be met with distrust and being looked down upon so now the class division and healing will go on in the background as we explore different parts of runterra (cause the writers don’t have the competence to write engaging happy stories).

The characters will come back to begin the next arc of their character growth.

Take Vi for example she is not even a person in her own right, right now she’s just ‘dirt beneath Caitlyn’s fingernails’ that does not seem like a fulfilling way to live your life for anyone. But makes sense for Vi, she needs to grow relax not be a person for a while because for her being a person means sacrificing everything she is to save others live for others but she’s never successfully done that she needs to do that live for someone else (1 person- cait) be successful in protecting them so she one day live for herself, find herself, find the meaning of being a person, her own goals. Till now we haven’t seen the story of Vi - just Powder’s sister her keeper since the first scene when she became wholly responsible for her a role that Vander did nothing to deter her from but pushed more heavily onto her.

And we kinda got a happyish end for jinx, NOT because she died so is free, NO, but because she finally got to save Vi not just from death but also stop Vi from killing herself (cause that’s what she has doing staying on that ledge not because she thought she could save Vander but because she left his dead body behind once). Show her that she has to rise above her self sacrificing bulshit, cause that only works when she is the only one protecting others not when she is fighting with others together, cause in those scenarios if she puts herself uncaringly in danger someone else will protect her and get hurt doing so.

She is alive but more importantly ready to go go on a journey of self discovery and define for herself her identity (herself not silco as Vi’s sister but not one dependent on her) away from Piltover and Zaun. Truly find herself, and be ready to come back on her own terms not bcz the outside forces dictate it.

HOW IS JINX ALIVE

I want to preface this by first cursing the guy responsible for camera work on Ep9 May seven generations of your family cry tears of blood!!

it was so hard to figure everything out!

let’s start with our North Star the stationary point around which everything revolves.

You’ll understand that in a moment.

I’ll like to draw everyone’s attention to this Frame.

Aww… Sob.. jinx hugging Vander while she kills them both… 😢 Forget that focus on the background!

the glowing runes the circular shape with an opening in the middle in 3 rings like oh? The hex gate beam!

but that could just be a pretty backdrop yeah I wouldn’t believe that even if this was the first time I was seeing it but it’s not. We’ve seen it before…

here

Here

Directly followed by

then after cutting to jayce and victor in the tunnel, different backgrounds for a sec but none of them from a consistent camera angle

and we’re back here again

Then another cut to jayvik, them finally entering the sphere, and again different backgrounds for jinx/vi/vander

and then? We’re back here again

And it’s here that jayvik enter

Disrupting the vi/jinx/vander fight and creating the ledge.

now the North Star why do I mention it? Because the existence of the gate itself is not enough to prove that the hexgate turned on, so what is?

let’s go back to the image of the blast

Notice that rune in the corner?

that’s also a repeating marker it first appears not when we get the first look at the inside of the hex gate where where jinx/Vi/Ekko/Vander have crashed but after jayvik have started their ascent and the tunnel lights up.

and again when jayvik finally enter the sphere

and again after Viktor has blasted through the ledges and is exiting the sphere

notice the lack of light entering the scene from the hole created by Vi/jinx/ekko But in all these instances the rune has the top horizontal straight line facing away from the tunnel but when the explosion happens the line is facing inwards towards the tunnel that means a the rune turned in its casing implying that a mechanism was activated.

vs

also notice how the tunnel is between the tube on which jinx lands and the ledge vi and vander land on no way that somebody moving like this

will fall towards the centre of the tunnel.

also take these 3 frames

vander gets a hold of jinx

cut to vi coming to rescue

Back to vander with jinx in his grasp turns his head towards incoming vi

The camera in the first and second image is the same, a split second has passed but the background changed.

because the sphere started rotating the moment the tunnel light up the first time, the first time we see the North Star.

Let’s have a positive outlook for the future and until then see you all on ao3

P.S. - If you think my theory makes no sense or the evidence is insufficient or disapproved do let me know….

[magiclwritings]

Cesare felt the air around him still and chill in the same stroke. His eyes narrowed on Quin and all the alcohol he'd drank felt as though it evaporated through every pore on his body. In that moment he couldn't understand the man's tone but he felt the rigidiness just the same. He hadn't done anything wrong. Not really. Had Beau confused him for a few moments? Yes. But nothing more had come of that. And once the prince found out who he was and what he was doing, it wasn't difficult to deduce the rest. But clearly Quintus wasn't ready or willing to do that yet and he'd have to explain in a way that didn't seem as though he were trying to defend the other to him. Wasn't he just the one being made to be made?

"I don't think it's difficult to understand that someone in his line of work." He paused, staring pointedly at the other for a moment before he continued. "Don't always receive the best treatment. And knowing the man that was pulling his strings." Which was partly a lie. Cesare didn't know their uncle well. Or, as well as he'd thought he had. In all the years he'd ventured to the castle in Vivec alone and in his father's tow, he'd never had Richard treat him poorly. The odd comment here and there, with more frequency as he'd grown closer to Quin, but never would he have guessed he was a power hungry man, hell bent on dethroning his own nephews at any cost. "I didn't think it was such a jump to assume that some of what has happened with you may also have happened with him." His brow raised and he sighed out, not ready to admit the next part. "Because you do look similiar enough that I imagine whatever he he wanted to say or do to you he often took out on Beau instead when the opportunity didn't present itself with you."

The prince stretched himself out on his bed, leaning back against the headboard. There it is. The soft, fuzzy feeling of the meade found him again and he breathed out slowly. "You've never told me the extent of what happened with ... Richard." He started, crossing his ankles over each other and his hands folded over and laid against his lap. It was hard to hear that name in his own voice. Until that moment he was fairly certain they'd never uttered his name between themselves. But the threat was very real and not using his name made it feel like he was bigger than they, and that simply could never be in Cesare's opinion. "Beau wasn't kind when he said it." He started, his fingers itching to dig into anything to make this less painful to speak about, less painful to watch Quintus' face when he'd finally gotten it out. "But I started putting it together. The way you don't like to be touched and how you're constantly on top of everything and everyone." He gave a slight shake of his head because honestly this did nothing but show just how strong this man on the bed was to him. And should be to everyone. "He only confirmed the missing piece that I'd been guessing at."

Cesare's tongue swiped along his lips to keep them from drying out completely. "Please don't take my kindness towards him as anything but that." He swallowed hard and fought himself on what he was about to say next but he thought better than to hide it. "When I first came upon Beau in what were suppose to be your quarters I couldn't be sure it was you. The room was too dark." The contents of his stomach churned and he felt odd enough to shift his weight. "He shared a kiss or two but nothing more than that." His cheeks instantly flared to the bright redness of coals and he found himself wanting to sink completely into the mattress. "I realized he wasn't you and threatened him within an inch of his life to get me to you and when that didn't work." He sighed and shrugged again. "I just tried to treat him like a person." He paused, seeing the snide comment coming quick but he cut Quin off before it could be made. "He wants to live. Free. Just like you and I. Just like everyone else. I couldn't imagine the sort of life one leads pretending to be someone else. Never having anything that is truly your own." Cesare gave a slight shake of his head and breathed out through his nose. "I just didn't want to be the sort of person that sees someone in a bad position regardless of their own involvement and not do anything to help. I've never been that way and I won't start now." He was firm on that whether Quin liked it or not. He could only hope his honesty didn't cost him everything else in the process.

Beau didn’t deserve anything, especially from Quintus, and as he rolled over to tell Cesare just that, he stopped being cold in his movements. 

He survived not great things too. 

Quin’s body went cold at the words, eyes narrowing as he read them for what they were. It could mean that Cesare knew, but he was many things, and a great actor was not one of them. He believed if Cesare knew about his past with his uncle, he would not be able to contain himself. His future husband would go through all of the stages of grief knowing that any kind of physical harm had come to Quintus, especially at such a young age. He could have simply meant all of the other horrors his uncle had committed, but that was banking on the idea that Cesare hadn’t made the connection regarding what Beau was to Quin’s uncle. 

It was challenging to decide if he wanted to press it when he couldn’t determine precisely what Cesare knew. If he did know, Quin would have to live with the stain of his uncle tainting their relationship, potentially ruining their future wedding plans. If he didn’t realize, Quin would be serving the truth to him on a silver platter. 

He sat up as Cesare came over with the tray. He only ate what was handed to him because he didn’t want Cesare to comment on his lack of appetite. Quin ate slowly, chewing meticulously, but everything tasted like ash, and with every bite, he had to force himself to swallow. It was like chewing nails. He listened to Cesare’s words, looking up from the dried fruit in his hands to study his expression. If there was ever a time Quintus wished he could read minds, it was this moment. 

He wanted to share Cesare’s excitement about having both Avenicci brothers under the same roof and look forward to experiencing Adros with Cesare, but Quin was that kind of man. He couldn’t let things go; he couldn’t ignore the possibility that Cesare may know and wasn’t admitting it. 

“What did you mean,” He said slowly, carefully. He ripped the piece of fruit in his hand to shreds, flicking the bits of skin off on the tray. “Earlier.’ Quintus glanced up at Cesare, gaze scanning over his face. “When you said ‘He survived not great things too’?” Quin raised a brow, waving his hand flippantly. “He was playing a role for my uncle. Pretending to be me, he agreed to go to trial disguised as me to plead guilty. While I was locked in my room and drugged constantly,  he had the run of the castle and could come and go as he pleased.  Anything he wanted was given to him as long as he played by my uncle’s rules, which he did so eagerly. So I suppose I’m just confused about what horrors he faced that you have been made aware of. He’s faced enough to warrant you saving and smuggling him out of the country. So please, do share."

[unlimited-nobu-works]

[youremyonlyhope]

why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up

[guhamun]

THESE PERPLEXING FEELINGS SEEMED to grow all the more, such akin to a tangled web of things he couldn’t quite figure out. It was like trying to pull a butterfly from it, the process one that was painstaking, and, if not done properly, could only make things worse. Jiyan’s comfort in his presence was one he could never quite understand among other things, yet despite knowing of his reputation, of the whispered rumors that could either be true or false, he still seemed so at ease with him. But why him? That was a question he had asked himself countless times whenever he was with the general. In the beginning, he had not exactly been the friendliest individual. His words had often been curt, and his interactions with Jiyan, as small as they had been, were strictly business with him merely wanting to know what it was they wanted of him, and then leaving to see it done. He couldn’t figure out how they had even reached the point that they had, and each time he tried to see where their initial path had diverged, he was left feeling even more lost than he had before.

     Jiyan’s nuzzling of his hand – him instinctively knowing that this was not a gesture done towards anyone else, only made things that much worse. And so, to try and figure out his thoughts and feelings, he wanted to hear the other’s again as if that would help get rid of the fog that constantly hung over him. For whatever reason, there was something about listening to them that made it easier to slot puzzle pieces into place. Nothing was said on his end once more as he moved his hand back to his side; only that silence that came when his mind was working over everything he was hearing and seeing. ❝It’s not like you to make assumptions about others, Jiyan. Rather than assuming what I would say, why not merely ask me the questions you want answered and see from there? I can’t read minds. I may be good at figuring out if someone wants to gut me, but this…is something else entirely. I can't promise that anything I say will make much sense either, but I'd attempt.❞ For you, at least. He glanced away, gaze peering off into the distance where the sun shone its brightest.

     ❝If I have upset you in any way, whether now, or in the past, I apologize. My intention was never to make you feel like some insect under a magnifying glass.❞ What had he done that warranted their last statement? ‘I really wish you could extend me the same patience and empathy I have with you.’ What did that even mean? He was frustrated because he didn’t quite comprehend what in the world Jiyan was talking about, yet he wasn’t quite sure what questions he was supposed to ask to make it make sense. Was he…upset with Calcharo’s callousness towards his own potential death? Was it how he just casually moved on from it? In truth, he couldn’t quite understand being dear to anyone in the manner that Jiyan spoke of. It all circled back to ‘why him?’ Why? He huffed, a small, sigh slipping from him. ❝We seem to be two men who are deeply lost about one another as much as we are about our own emotions. It’s like dumping oil on water.❞ In other words, they wouldn’t get anywhere without proper discussion.

     He understood that much now. 

Calcharo had remained quiet the entire time he spoke, and Jiyan didn't know if that was a good thing or not. He could tell they were listening to him, but it made him nervous as well. But, when they reached out to touch his face... the new scales that temporarily appeared on his jaw, all doubt and nervousness he had felt until then melted. Golden eyes closed as he sighed, allowing himself to enjoy the other's touch, allowing himself to reach out for what he hungered for and lean onto their hand. It wasn't the type of thing that a general should be doing, but he didn't care for any of that right now.

He was happy. Calcharo was so close to him, they were touching him, they existed in this very moment at the same time as him. It made him relax and feel hopeful. It was funny, wasn't it? He was no stranger to hope. After all, hope was what kept him going every day, hope was what he tried to inspire on his fellow rangers, hope was something he would cling to till his last breath. He liked to think that he understood hope well enough. But, while the reason for that type of hope was as clear as water to him, the hopefulness he felt whenever he was with Calcharo wasn't as clear. He could tell it was there, he felt it, and he knew he was hoping for something, for more. But it was frustrating, as well, to not know what that more looks like.

And then Calcharo talked, and the illusion of all being well and on the right track shattered. Still, he couldn't help the brief and weak laughter that passed his lips. It wasn't funny but, at the same time, it was. Careful, he allowed himself to nuzzle the mercenary's hand before pulling away. "Calcharo, have I not been doing just that this whole time? I explained everything, every single time, so what else am I supposed to say?" It took him a while to notice it, but he eventually realized that he was a painfully honest man, one that ended up letting his honest thoughts and emotions slip with those close to his heart.

But they asked him to talk, even if it was abstract and nonsensical, so he was going to talk. "Just like you, I don't like feeling exposed and vulnerable. There are things I would rather keep to myself, things I wasn't planning to tell anyone, but when I'm with you... I don't know, it's so easy to be myself." A pause followed, hesitation showing on his features for a second before he shook his head. "But that doesn't mean I'm okay with being prodded like a test subject. Calcharo, what do you gain from me explaining everything again? What's the purpose of it? It doesn't aid you in any way, so why do you ask things of me you know you wouldn't answer if I asked them of you?" He was frustrated at himself and at Calcharo, which was terribly unfair to the latter, as he couldn't even explain why he was frustrated in the first place. He was making no sense and he hated it. This wasn't like him at all. So he just sighed and rubbed is temples, try to gather his thoughts and make sense of the mess of emotions he was feeling right then.

"I don't know what I'm hoping for. I don't know what I'm feeling or why I'm being like this. I don't know many things, and I'm still on edge because you could have died a few days ago, and I don't know what I would do without you, you have become so dear to me, I can't imagine a world without you in it. But, despite it all, it appears that the fact you nearly overclocked is the last of your concerns. It's confusing and frustrating for me too, and I understand that you must have a lot of questions. I have them too. But I really wish you could extend me the same patience and empathy I have with you."

[bibiana112]

Girl are you okay? Cause you've been looking through the "My lesbian experience with loneliness" tag again

Well the short answer is no :D

[inmirova]

"it's easier to leave an abusive situation than it is to stop an abuser" :^( but it's not easy :^(

[mcrcki]

"you know that's not what i fucking mean, xaden, don't fucking start with that--" they were only feeding off each other, and despite violet knowing that, she cannot stop herself from following him down this path, letting his anger fuel her own. "you're changing physically because of whatever the fuck you've done! i can fucking watch you become someone different! every time you tap into that fucking power, you're changing!" she felt like she was going to break down, every other word from him had her reeling, watching him become more and more unrecognizable.. this couldn't continue on, she had wasted so much fucking time without her memories, had spent so long just what? flirting with him and going on fucking dates with dain? she had doomed him with her inactions, her inability to find a cure. only putting herself in danger more so he felt like he needed to do more and more to protect her? "you think i wasn't tired of the maybe's?! of the fucking uncertainty that was going to come with you going down this road, with there being no fucking wards, no one else here that knows what the fuck a venin is! but if my two options were you dying or you becoming this, that doesn't put me in a fair position and you know it. i couldn't choose between those two, and you cannot expect me to make that choice." though, now, he had made that choice, leaving her with no other option right? if he was going to keep falling, not giving her any time to find a cure.. could she let him just walk away knowing how much of a danger he could become? he was already the most powerful rider in their generation, what would be become as a venin? "i can handle myself! you know i can! i don't need you to keep fucking draining because you're afraid of me being hurt! why can't you help me without falling further down this path, xaden? why does it have to be this way!" he had helped her so many times, had kept her safe so many different ways already, why did it have to be different now? why was the only option complete indifference or draining! "those people were complacent in torturing me and my friends, they would have killed you. someone just trying to deck you because you're being a dick is different! killing using those powers is different! how do you not see that every time you use them is making you fall deeper into this! that every time you drain, you get closer and closer to becoming one of them! how can you expect me to just sit back and watch you destroy yourself!" it was so hard to look at him, to see xaden underneath all of this. he was just right there, right within arms reach and gods all she wanted was her xaden back. to never have to deal with this venin bullshit ever again. but every day she was in danger, and considering her track record and luck that was nearly every day, he would continue to fall, until he was completely unrecognizable. before her and her friends were in danger because they stood in his way. wasn't it her responsibility to stop this? he became this because of her, she had to be the one to stop this. "you can't promise that. my power is basically the only thing that can fucking kill you, you remember that, right? you really think you won't see that as a threat if you let yourself go any further!" they were going in circles, this wasn't going to get them anywhere, not when he was clearly dodging her questions again, waiting for her to 'ask the right one', she's so sure. she wanted to fucking scream, needing a straight answer out of him for once. "tell me their name xaden. what is the name of the person you just killed?" because of all the people they knew... what were the chances that it was one of her friends? that rhi or dain or mira said something that set him off.. did he know anyone else that would send him over the edge that wouldn't have broken him? because touching imogen or liam would be too much, this wouldn't even be a conversation.. but dain? mira? her heartbeat only grew louder in her ears waiting for the answer, knowing it'll devastate her regardless.

"being physically different doesn't mean shit, are you really that fucking shallow, violet? i look a little different, that means i'm going to start attacking and killing the people i've given up fucking everything to protect? you act like i did this for a fucking laugh, everything i've done has been to keep you all safe!" he's sure he's given up more than she knows. he's very aware of the fact that his father is watching from wherever he is, cursing his name and disowning his only son. there's no family for him when he does meet malek, she'll be the only one by his side, and yet somehow he's the bad guy here. "we've been existing on a maybe for months! i'm not going to apologize for being sick and tired of balancing on the edge of whatever the fuck is going to happen when i finally let go! i'm sick and tired of this shit, violet! i wanted to end it all and you wouldn't let that happen, i wanted to embrace it and now that's a problem too!" he couldn't keep standing in between two different shitty endings, something had to give eventually. and at least this way, he could keep her safe. "really, because it seems like you're just expecting me to ignore the fact that you're in danger because it might make me get worse! we don't even know if that's the reality of it and you're acting like i shouldn't try to help you because of a guess!" he can't help but shake his head, frustrations leaking into every word he speaks, frustrations he'd never imagined being aimed at violet of all people, and yet here they are. "how was it different? i killed dozens of people that day, violet, none of who actually started the fight, but i kill one that attacked me and you're up in arms? that's not fair, you can't change your standards now because you don't like the method." but the more she lectures him, the more he doesn't see how they can possibly come to an agreement on this. she'll never see him as anything but a monster now, will she? as much as she claims not to, as much as she claims she wants to save him and keep him by her side, he's always going to be a monster to her now. "you would never be just a fucking power source, violence. and i think liam would respect that i made a choice to keep him alive, and that i'm still me after all of this!" and would that be partially because he was their leader? because liam felt loyalty to him? maybe so, but he's sure liam still would have accepted the choice after a bit of a debate. the same way he'd accepted every other sacrifice xaden had made for the marked children to keep them alive and safe. "i knew who it was." he replies, already knowing that elaborating any further will doom him, damn him in her eyes as something mad and irredeemable, if he isn't already. and maybe that's the problem. she knows too much, knows him too well, thinks she can read him like a book and know that something is wrong, rather than accepting that she's reading into something that isn't there. "it's not your responsibility, violence. i made my choices, they're my responsibility."

[pastelbluebutch]

Literally just venting

[blizzardfluffykpop]

I've been working on the same fic for what feels like months because I've wanted already to be out. I craved it being done since the 16th of February when the idea was presented to be by a dear friend. (We rotted so bad because of him...) ANYWAYS 😭😭😭 I'm about to cry happy tears- I finally finished it- I feel exalted tbh- (I forgot to mention it's scheduled for tomorrow at 1030 est~)

If you would like a spoiler for who it is about & what kind of an au it is- and the outfit that ran me insane- See below~

It's a mechanic au with Mr. Kim Younghoon (now originally, he was going to be in dark blue coveralls... (as I had picture him) but then I saw this photo & the performance and I've not been the same). This is Kpopnation: Warsaw, Poland: 230923 (was I only going to use 1? yeah but he: yeah)

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: NSFW, dubcon, bathroom sex, bullying, overall just really filthy smut, virgin insert, virginity loss, somewhat dom reader, somewhat bully reader, somewhat yandere reader

♡ FEM reader

You look like one of those girls that never smiles. Like, if he were to take that empty seat next to you in the lecture hall, you’d scowl with stink eyes and then proceed to fully ignore him. Yeah, a real bitch. That's what you look like—scary. He bets all your socials are filled with the same picture—the same deadpanned pouty face over and over, every single one with hundreds of likes and comments saying “Wow, babe!” followed by a dozen emojis from besties and horny admirers. Selfies in the mirror, showing off skin in your tight tops and short skirts—similar to the outfit you’re wearing now. Captions saying, “You can look, but you could never touch.” Yeah, he bets you’re a real attention whore. And the worst part is that you’re not even overselling, either. You’re gorgeous—even with that sour look on your face, he’d pay cold, hard-earned cash in exchange for a pair of your worn panties.

Yeah, there’s no way he’d dare sit next to you. He’s already sweating bullets just thinking about it. Even though you’re one in a million similar girls who wouldn’t give him the time of day, he's still one in a million loser incels who would do anything for it. And that’s the cold reality.

Even if he’d like to get just a whiff of your sweet perfume, he can’t. The status quo forbids it. He’s afraid the jocks will smell fresh blood in the water the moment he does, then swarm him in a matter of seconds, circling before tearing him to shreds. They’d beat him to a pulp in the bathroom, smash his head in over the sink—piss in the toilet, then flush it down with his bloodied face—and he’d have to walk reeking of it all the way home.

So, no—he really can’t sit next to you. 

But no other seats are available, and the lecture is starting soon… 

Why did absolutely everyone decide to show up today?

Oh fuck it, this isn’t high school. College bullies surely don’t bother with petty cases like this, right? They’re all about their frat initiations and rivalries to have enough spare time to beat him up over improper seating. Oh, but what if you’re one of their girlfriends—you’ll tell on him, and then he’ll definitely be beaten up, maybe even killed.

No. He’s overthinking—like always. No one is that mean. If you don’t like him sitting there, you’ll just tell him. And he’ll move. No harm done. Right? He’s not sitting in the stairwell when there’s a perfectly good and empty seat right there, right? Is he?

Yes. Yes, he is. 

“Hey, if you’re looking for a seat, this one’s empty,” a sweet voice calls out over his inner monologue, making him clutch the strap of his bookbag tighter with a flinch of his entire rigid body—his eyes peeled as he looked around to try and find the source of the sound even though he knew where it had come from. It’s as if the possibility of your voice sounding like anything aside from a she-demon was out of the question. But no, it is you. 

But there’s no way you’re talking to him, so he looks around again—there must be someone else in need of the seat aside from him. But then, why are you looking right at him? Are you pulling some type of prank? Are you really that cruel? You’re probably filming him or something—live-streaming—the chat’s blaring with ew, what a creep and omg, uggo alert right about now. He should just go home before the jocks, along with the rest of the internet, can get him.

“Are you okay?” you ask—but no, he must be hearing you wrong—there’s just no way, even though you’re looking right at him. “I think it’s starting soon—you should probably sit.”

It’s as if his fight or flight response is broken because he does the exact opposite of either—as if on autopilot, sitting down in a rush against his better judgment.

The lecture starts shortly, solidifying his choice, but he can’t pay attention. No, he needs to keep his guard up. Any second now, someone’s going to do a drive-by and throw a milkshake at him or something vile of the like, and you’ll have filmed it all even though he can’t spot you holding a phone—and then the entire hall would burst into laughter at his expense.

“Pst—” A soft whisper comes from next to him, from between the gloss of your pretty lips. You smell like candy and fruit, and it makes his gut tighten—both from anxiety and something more shameful. “I’m sorry to bother you, but do you have a pen I could borrow? Mine’s all out’a ink.”

You give him an awkward smile, and he very nearly runs away. But no, he’s glued to the seat—with nervously wrecked hands shaking as he bends for his bag and unzips it, reaching for his pencil case painfully slow as if disarming some type of bomb. Redoing the same when he opens the case and rummages for a viable pen he could offer.

When he hands it to you, he’s almost sure you plan to stab him with it. But you do no such thing.

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver!” You cheer instead, beaming with a much brighter smile than before. “I owe you!”

His ears ring with your praise. Blushing beat red as he rips away from your gaze—still unable to focus on what the professor is preaching—not when from out of the corner of his eye, he can see you sucking on his pen like a lollypop—or something else not so innocent.

Oh, he’d been so wrong.

So, so, so very wrong.

You do smile. You smile a lot, actually. You just have one of those faces that rests bitchy. But still, bubbly airhead or not, a girl like you still shouldn't be seen with a loser like him. It’s social suicide. And still, you’re on your knees before him in a dirty little bathroom stall—the same dirty bathroom stall he feared getting a swirlie, scraping the walls with his nails to try and thwart his assailants—only, now clutching the walls for a much different reason, holding on for his mortal soul as you seek to suck it out of his fat throbbing cock.

You want to repay him—you’d said—for the pencil. He hadn't understood why you’d winked at him before you’d all but dragged him off and flung him inside the men’s bathroom, having his very life flash before his eyes.

You both make the sloppiest sounds as you make an utter mess on and of him, making him cry on all fronts—cock weeping with thick pearly beads of pre while his eyes well up with tears down his flushed face, all sweaty with panic and bliss. 

The moans springing from his chest are virginal and raw and sweet music to your ears, panting for you like a puppy—you’re sure they can hear him out in the hallway when passing by. One of his hands clasps itself on top of his mouth, holding tightly to keep it all within—eyes shut and brows cinched. And yet, he makes no effort to shove you off—hips left jerking and jittering in response to your refined technique where you take him deeply, all the way down to the base, hallowing your cheeks, throttling him with your throat as your tongue wipes his creamy slit clean.

It’s painfully clear he’s never experienced anything like it, but that’s what turns you on the most. Sick as you are, you could suck him dry and savor every drop of him, knowing you’re the first ever to get a taste. But no, by now, your pussy’s so soaked you feel yourself dripping past the soggy lace of your panties, running down your soft thighs in waste.

He’s misty-eyed when you pull off with an ever-cruel pop—a sick mix of relief and sorrow warping his chest, feeling conflicted by the pulse making him think he’s on the verge of a heart attack if you continue—and another strumming his cock, making him think he’s going to keel over and die if you leave him unfinished.

Even so, he’s in a state of complete shell shock as you mount him on top of the toilet seat he’s melting against. Chest heaving, watching you as you lift your skirt up and peal your slick underwear to the side for him to lay his bleary swiveled eyes on your bared and dripping pussy.

“I love nice guys like you—” you moan, pouring the honeyed words down his throat as you ghost his parted lips with your spit-slicked ones, straddling his lap and shimmying ever closer until your tits squish against his chest. “They make me so wet, I lose all self-control.” 

He gulps in your shadow, looking up at you for mercy—cock twitching painfully between your thighs as your wrap your hand around his base real snug, giving him a nice tug as you line him up with your needy heat—making him all but squeal beneath you.

Your other hand makes its way into his hair, braiding your fingers within the locks to hold him steady—gently pulling his head back while leering down at him like caught prey. Playing with him just so, teasing him with your words, all in your sultry voice, making his head spin hot with a fever, “You’ll be a good boy and fuck me, won’t you? Pretty please?”

His breaths are heavy and wet, coming out shaky with his instant answer, “Y-yes—” all weak in a pathetic whimper that almost has you cum too soon.

“You’re so nice~ thank you,” you croon against his lips, kissing him sloppily with your tongue in his mouth as you shift your hips and start lowering your sopping cunt down upon his seeking length, taking him in with greedy ease, eagerly gripping his soft cockhead like a toy in a claw machine.

“Fhu—fuck—” he stutters under his breath, whinging before planting his teeth into his lip to keep it at bay—feeling like putty beneath you, sweaty and heavy and dumb, eagerly wanting all which you sought to give him—only more flushed at your mean undertones as you play with him like food on a silver platter.

You sling your arms around his neck and push your chest harder against him, moaning all too brazenly, “Oh! Fuck yes—that’s so good,” you sing while slowly taking him in further. “A nice guy with a big bad bully’s dick is the best!” 

He whines in return as his inches get eaten—each devoured one by one until his tip kneads into the mouth of your womb.

Sighing happily, you kiss his cheek and put your lips right at his ear with another wanton whimper, “You fill me up so so good.” Roosting on the size, thighs resting flush against his, feeling all giddy as it stretches you out oh-so-nicely. “Such a good toy-cock for me,” keening at the way it twitches inside you, pulsing in response to your tight walls, clenching it in ways it’s never before felt.

His eyes are already rolling back into his skull once you start lolling your hips—riding him, but keeping him deep at all times—lifting just enough for it to pull out only a little before sinking back down, making it settle into that perfect needy little spot inside you that makes your whole body shiver in delight.

“Mmh,” You suck his ear lobe, releasing it with a soft bite, before smiling down at him and his sweat-pilled expression. Cooing at him, “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

He can’t even answer with words anymore, only giving a dumb mewl as he nods his head. But, of course, you’re already well aware.

“Mmh—” your eyes gleam with delight, giving his lap a mean ride, leaving him all but breathless, before asking, “D’you like it, virgin boy? ‘You like my pussy? Like the way it milks your chubby cock for your cum?”

He nods again, even more eagerly this time—looking downright pathetic in every sense of the word.

“Do you want to?” you offer to his desperation, feeling as though he’s falling apart at your fingertips, needing you to hold him together. “I’ll let you since you’re such a sweet guy—” you tease while clenching his cock, making it impossible to want anything else no matter the consequence. “In exchange for a favor, of course.”

He couldn’t care less what the favor was—way beyond willing to pay any price you ask of him as he finally makes a move and grabs your hips with a strength you hadn’t thought he had the balls to perform, planting you down firmly and holding you with such need as his hips jitter and stutter—resting his cheek on your shoulder in drool and tears with a lovesick groan leaving him as he fills your pussy up with his creamy spend.

His whole body shakes—spasming in cute little aftershocks as he clutches onto your body, hugging you tightly.

You respond in kind, cuddling him and kissing the top of his head. “That was so warm and filling—what a good boy—you did so well,” you murmur ever-sweetly while petting his head, combing through his sweaty locks with your long glitter-pink nails—keeping your voice saccharine. “Did you enjoy yourself, hm? Your first time cumming in pussy instead of your dirty ol’ sock?”

You pick his face up—cupping his sloppy jaw in both palms—his eyes half-mast and glazed as you nose-kiss him with a smile on your face.

“You loved it, didn’t you? Silly virgin boy…”

Your cunt tingles at the sight of him—wrecked beauty, sweaty and undone. You feel his cock unswell inside you and decide to lift off and release him—letting it flop out and splat on his tummy in a puddle of slick.

“Look,” you fuss, holding his face in direction of it. “You made such a pretty mess—isn’t it lovely?”

Your pussy is left glistening and puffy, still wanting and waiting for its final hurrah. Your breath turns headier and so does your voice, now with a new darkness to it as  you whisper, “Time for that favor, sweet boy.” 

He blinks dumbly, impossibly hopeless, wrapped so tightly around your pinky it’s pitiful. Of course, you take advantage—guiding his head to level with your cunt. 

“Open wide, tongue out flat.”

He obeys wordlessly. And oh god it makes your gut stir viscously—watching his tongue loll free between parted lips.

Your voice flares with bliss at the sight, shy of unhinged, as you giggle breathily, “That’s right—taste the pretty mess you made.”

He’s pushed face-first, trapped between your thighs with his jaw like an open cup beneath you, tonguing the mixed slick from your slit and slurping it all up without shame.

And fuck—it feels so good, you lose even more of your mind while tugging him even closer—all but pulling him off the toilet seat, making him kneel down on the floor instead. And still, he makes no effort to escape, but the opposite—seeking to go deeper into your cunt, crying into you as he laps up every last drop of yours and his arousal—making your thighs quake around him, grinding down against his mouth, onto his eager tongue, having it pet your clit over and over until you also come to the same sudden stumbling halt.

“Yes—yes! Oh, fuck! I’m gonna—it’s coming—”

And there it goes, ripping along your loins, surging from your lower belly. With both your hands tangled harshly in his hair, he’s not going anywhere, lips locked with yours as it starts pouring.

You’re squirting on him—hot and hard—on his tongue, inside his mouth, down his throat, in his belly. You’re squirting on him and he’s drinking it, he realizes—but even so, he isn’t able to stop. Instead, he unwinds his jaw even wider, digs his tongue deeper, and accepts every drop of the warm stream as it drenches his face and splashes down his collar and shoulders, utterly soaking his shirt, making in see-through as it clings to his chest like a second skin.

You’ve closed your eyes and thrown your head back, basking in every last little twitch of your body as you relieve yourself all over his face.

Finally, after a moment, you let go of his hair and step back—feeling refreshed and happy with your work—seeing the poor loser sit before the toilet, all drenched and exhausted with his limp cock spent and messy, looking like a beautiful wreck.

You smile, pulling your panties back in place, and you skirt down again before unlocking the stall and opening the door, only looking back at him for a moment, tapping your nail at a few matching pink scribbles written on the wall. “Here’s my number and address if you wanna have more fun." And then you leave, just like that. "Bye-bye~”

♡ BNHA – Amajiki, Deku, Shigaraki, Shinso ♡ JJK – Yuuta, Choso, Nanami ♡ HQ – Kageyama, Kenma ♡ CSM – Denji ♡ BLLK – Isagi ♡ DS – Zenitsu ♡ WB – Sakura, Nirei

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist