#it still baffles me that no one was changed by knowing that. they just weren’t moved. not by their humanity. not by anything

[moonssugar]

all this oppenheimer discourse reminds me of that time in middle school they had us write and essay and make a slideshow about whether bombing japan was necessary with the implication that they wanted us to think it was necessary and made sure that everyone’s essay said it was necessary at the end by always contradicting anyone who said otherwise until they fell in and agreed on presentation day. i mean going around critiquing anyone who was having second thoughts ‘well yeah but the prevention of prolonged war and death of us solider??’ they showed interviews of people from hiroshima and nagasaki who described in detail how they watched their children die under rubble and how people were burned and how people slowly died of radiation poisoning but still felt comfortable ending the class with “it was necessary because the deaths of american soldiers etc etc etc”. even after showing us that. i remember being the one of maybe two or three kids who never yielded to it. propaganda begins early

[catchastarorten]

—100 loaves of bread.

Pairing: the salesman/recruiter x bakeryowner!fem!reader

Summary: it started with a few visits from him buying 100 loaves of bread each time from your little bakery, but overtime the two of you started to get familiar, little did you know about his ‘work’ and how he should’ve given the card to you but didn't...

Content: fluff, aggressive stomping on bread, him having a soft spot for you, trying to convince himself that he doesn’t care about you (it doesn’t work lol), a bit of reader's backstory, self-conflict and a bit of change of heart from him, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!

Word count: ~ 2.1k

You were wiping down the counter when the familiar chime of the bell above the door jingled. It was late in the afternoon, and the bakery was quiet, except for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the faint scent of freshly baked bread and sugar lingering in the air. You glanced up, already knowing who it was. He was here again—the man with the sharp suit and the briefcase who bought bread in quantities that always left you baffled.

“Afternoon,” you said, watching as he walked in with the same calm, measured way as always. He almost looked too friendly for someone who carried himself so formally.

“Afternoon,” he replied, stepping up to the counter and resting his briefcase at his feet. “I’ll need the usual. A hundred loaves.”

A hundred loaves of bread. It was such a ridiculous request, and yet, he never failed to make it.

You’d asked him once, early on, what on earth he did with all that bread. Selling it somewhere else for a profit? Feeding a small army? Storing up for an apocalypse? He had only smiled at you then, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and said, “Something like that.”

It had been weeks since his first visit, and by now, the routine was familiar. You’d load loaf after loaf into paper bags while he stood patiently, sometimes asking about your day, sometimes quietly observing the modest little bakery. Today, though, you felt compelled to ask again.

“Are you sure you want all of it?” you asked, sliding the first bag across the counter. “That’s… a lot of bread.”

He smiled faintly, reaching for the bag and setting it beside him. “You ask me that every time.”

“Well, it’s not everyday someone comes in and buys out half my stock,” you said, tilting your head. “It makes me curious.”

His expression softened, and for a moment, he seemed like he might answer—really answer. But then he only shrugged slightly, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. “Let’s just say it goes to good use.”

You frowned, unsatisfied but unwilling to press further. He always paid in cash, crisp bills that he counted out with precision. You noticed, as you often did, that he never left without dropping a generous tip into the glass jar by the register. He offered you a warm look as he slipped a few bills into the tip jar again.

“Keep up the good work,” he said. “Your bread’s the best in the city.”

You weren’t sure whether to be flattered or suspicious. He seemed genuine, but there was something about him—something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Still, it wasn’t your place to pry. You handed him the last of the bags, and he left with the same polite nod as always.

The next time he came in, it wasn’t for a hundred loaves of bread.

You were behind the counter again, rearranging a tray of pastries, when you heard the door chime. Glancing up, you saw him standing there, his briefcase nowhere in sight.

“Not the usual today?” you asked, half-teasing.

He smiled slightly, stepping up to the counter. “Not today. I was thinking I’d try something different.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

He scanned the display case, his eyes lingering on a slice of strawberry shortcake near the center. “That,” he said, pointing.

You wrapped up the slice for him, and when you handed it over, he didn’t leave right away. Instead, he took a seat at one of the small tables by the window—a seat no one ever seemed to take—and unwrapped the cake with a kind of deliberate care. You watched, unable to help yourself, as he took a bite.

“It’s good,” he mumbled, almost to himself. “Really good.”

A flicker of amusement crossed your face as you watched him eat. He wasn’t as neat as you’d expected—a bit of whipped cream ended up on the corner of his mouth, and he licked it away absentmindedly, his gaze drifting to the shelves of decorative knick-knacks you’d lined the walls with.

“I never really noticed these before,” he said, gesturing toward a small ceramic cat perched on one of the shelves. “Did you make them?”

You shook your head. “No, those were my parents’. They used to run this place before me. They had a thing for collecting stuff like that.”

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It’s nice. Feels… homey.”

You didn’t know why, but his words left you oddly self-conscious. The bakery had always been your parents’ dream, not yours, and while you’d taken it over out of necessity, you’d never thought much about how it felt to anyone else. But hearing him say it was homey made you feel a faint sense of pride.

“Thanks,” you said softly.

He stayed longer than usual that day, finishing his cake and ordering a coffee to go with it.

You found yourself talking to him more than you normally would with a customer. He asked about the bakery, about your favorite thing to bake, about whether you’d ever considered expanding. You didn’t ask about him—not directly—but you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of man he was.

By the time he left, it was dark outside, and the bakery was empty except for you. As you locked up for the night, you found yourself thinking about his smile, the way it lingered even after he was gone.

One day, as he was paying for a loaf of sourdough, he looked at you, his head tilting slightly. “Do you ever think about getting out of here?” he asked.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… this place is great, but don’t you ever wonder what else is out there?”

You hesitated. It wasn’t that you hadn’t thought about it—leaving, starting fresh somewhere new—but the bakery was all you’d ever known. It was safe, familiar. And after your parents passed, it felt like the only thing that tethered you to them.

“Sometimes,” you admitted. “But I don’t know. This place… it’s home.”

He nodded, his expression unreadable.

For a moment, there was a silence between you. Then he smiled again, that warm, almost disarming smile, and slid an extra bill across the counter. “For the tip jar,” he said.

You watched as he walked out the door, his briefcase in hand, and wondered—for the hundredth time—what kind of life he led.

...

The bell above the bakery door chimed familiarly.

He stepped inside, brushing imaginary dust off his jacket, his polished demeanor there as always. But inside, his stomach churned. He had made a decision today—a decision that, for once, made him feel something like guilt.

He scanned the shop. You were at the counter, hands dusted with flour as you arranged freshly baked rolls on a tray. The soft glow of the afternoon light spilling through the window caught on your hair, and the faintest smile tugged at your lips when you saw him. That smile… It was a problem.

“Afternoon,” you said, just as you always did. Your voice was warm, even though he could see the slight tiredness beneath it. That smile didn’t reach your eyes as much these days, but you still tried, didn’t you?

He nodded, keeping his face neutral. “Afternoon.”

You weren’t supposed to matter to him. That was the rule. He had a job to do, a system to uphold, and people like you—drowning in debt—were just part of the equation. It shouldn't have mattered how good-hearted you were, how hardworking you were.

You weren’t special... at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

He first started coming to your bakery for convenience, but as time passed, the lines started to blur. The bread looked good, better than most places in this part of the city, and you didn’t ask too many questions.

The loaves weren’t for eating, of course. They were for a little ‘social experiment’.

“Bread or lottery?” That’s what he’d ask them—the desperate, homeless souls he scouted in the park. It was always the same. He’d hold out a loaf in one hand, a lottery scratcher in the other. The bread could fill their stomachs. But the lottery ticket? That promised a chance. A gamble. A way out.

They always chose the ticket. Every time.

He knew what came next. The moment they realized it wasn’t a winning ticket after all. They’d just stared at him, some cursed out loud, some were just disappointed, their hopes bleeding out onto the pavement.

And the bread? He destroyed it. Stomped it into the ground until it was unrecognizable, crumbs scattering across the concrete.

It was dramatic, yes, but it served its purpose. It showed them the choice that they had made, the food that they had thrown away and destroyed, not him. It was necessary. Or at least, that’s what he told himself.

But the bread came from you.

That detail had started to bother him more and more. You put your heart into every loaf, every pastry, every crumb that came out of your oven. He saw it in the way you worked, the way you carefully packed the loaves into paper bags for him, the way you smiled when he left a tip. He had started tipping more, as if that would excuse him of the guilt of what he was doing with your work—it didn’t.

He had been keeping tabs on you. He knew about your debts, the ones you and your brother had racked up trying to keep the bakery afloat after your parents passed. He knew how hard you worked to stay above water, how you barely made enough to cover the bills some months.

You were exactly the kind of person he was supposed to recruit.

He told himself that’s why he started coming more often. He needed to assess you, to figure out the right moment to offer you the card. But the truth was, he liked being in the bakery. He liked the smell of fresh bread and sugar, the hum of the old refrigerator, the quiet way you moved behind the counter. He liked your voice when you asked him how his day was going, even though he never answered honestly.

And he hated himself for liking any of it.

The card was in his pocket today. He had been carrying it around for a while now, waiting for the right moment.

Today, he had decided, would be the day. After all, you deserved it, right? The games were brutal, yes, but they were also fair. A chance for people like you to escape the crushing weight of debt.

That’s what he told himself as he walked into the bakery. But when you looked up at him, your flour-dusted hands resting on the counter, and said, “So, what are you getting today?”—he froze.

He could feel the card in his pocket, its edges pressing against his fingers. All he had to do was pull it out, slide it across the counter, and say the words. But he couldn’t do it. Not to you.

Instead, he cleared his throat. “I’ll take another slice of that cake,” he said, his voice steadier than he felt.

You looked over to the display. “The strawberry one?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, his finger gently tapping the display glass that caged all the pastries. “It’s… good.”

You smiled faintly, wrapping up the slice and handing it to him. “Anything else?”

He hesitated, the card burning a hole in his pocket. But then your eyes met his, and something in them—something warm, something real—made his resolve crumble.

“No,” he said softly. “That’s all.”

As he ate the cake at the small table by the window again, he told himself that letting you go was the right thing to do. You didn’t belong in the games. You didn’t belong in his world. And yet, he felt something close to longing as he watched you work behind the counter, your movements quick and precise, your expression focused.

For the first time in a very, very long time, he felt human.

When he left the bakery that day, he slipped a few extra bills into the tip jar. He told himself it was just another gesture, another way to balance the scales. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough to make up for what he did—what he was.

And yet, he didn’t offer you the card. He didn’t bring it the next time he visited, or the time after that. He told himself he’d do it eventually, that it was inevitable. But the truth was, he didn’t have the heart to drag you into the darkness he inhabited every day.

You weren’t like him. And he wanted—no, needed—to keep it that way.

[helluvapoison]

Hi! I feel a little awkward bc I’ve never asked anonymously but I really wanted to ask this but wasn’t comfortable enough to ask regularly, but I really enjoy your hazbin works and the hyperfixation has been gripping me HARD and I wanted to see what you’d think of a Lucifer x Reader where they have a sort of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts vibes, where Reader is his personal assistant and what your thought on that are?

~✨

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

i put my thoughts at the bottom :3c

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

• As his colleague, Lucifer is rather frustrating. He hired you as his personal assistant but won’t let you assist

• In the beginning, the most he’ll ask of you is if you know where something is. The answer is usually in his hand or line of sight. Without making him feel dumb, you simply retrieve it for him

• It doesn’t go unnoticed by Lucifer either. He praises you often and in the form of a soft, “What would I do without you?”

• “I’m sure I don’t want to find out, Mr Morningstar.”

• Maybe it takes a minute for the initial “I’m working for the King of Hell” shock to wear off and when it does you realize it was clouding your judgment. Lucifer truly does require your help but he’s incapable of asking for what he needs; it’s up to you to step in and make necessary decisions on his behalf

• That’s what he’s paying you for, right?

• You tell him exactly what’s going to happen before you do it so he’s not caught off guard. He still is. Baffled, really, that you got so ballsy overnight

• Let the banter and boundary pushing begin. Nothing major! You just keep to your word, continuing your courageous streak

• Plucking all the sticky notes off the wall and collecting the ones that were so old they dropped to the floor, you spend an entire day sorting through them. You give his schedule a must needed update and sync it to both your phones so either of you could make changes and be alerted to it

“Why do I need your play-by-play?” He asks teasingly

“So you don’t call me at 4am because you forget I’m not here. Y’know, like last time.”

• Oh yeah, personal space and boundaries cease to exist between you. He’ll sit right next to you, or pull your chair closer to his. When he’s bored, he’ll sit right on your desk

• When he brings you to meetings, which is always because you’re supposed to be focusing on his behalf, he leans in and makes jokes that have you pressing your lips together to be quiet

• “I need to take notes,”

• “And you’re doing great, now jot down how Asmodeus’ shirt is on backwards,” He snickers

• Texting outside your shifts is a regular occurrence. Messages sent back and forth until it’s beyond sleeping hours and you tell him to go to bed

• “See you in 3 hours.” He texts back like he’s counting down (he is)

• Miraculously, you covered all corners of his (rather empty) mansion. Nothing was off limits to you except Charlie’s old room. You made sure dishes left his room or office and made it to the kitchen, checks for the house staff went out on time, supplies were stocked, etc.

• You take paperwork off his desk, screen and divert miscellaneous calls to your phone instead of his, overall taking unnecessary weight from his shoulders. You go as far as to pencil in mealtimes. It’s appreciated even though he’d still forget if you weren’t around

• “I’m beginning to suspect you’re underpaid,” Lucifer partially jokes

• You’re really, really not

• Sure, he spouts his stream of consciousness and it’s up for you to decipher what’s important and what’s just him sharing random details. Yes, he has you sit on his chair while he gestures wildly and explains the mechanics of something you don’t understand just because he’s excited about it. And yes, maybe, you spend too much time in his house than your own

• But you’re disgustingly overcompensated. You thought he made a mistake when you saw your paycheck. If not by actual money, Lucifer spoils you rotten in ways he definitely shouldn’t and doesn’t for his other employees

• “You deserve it for putting up with me,” His voice is laced with more adoration than acceptable, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

• You haven’t been doing it for the money in a long time

• The two of you have been teetering over the line of professional and inappropriate, praying, begging really, to fall on the side of the latter

• You almost kill him when you say you want to quit. Lucifer’s ready to offer you Hell on a golden platter if you’ll stay

• “It’s not about the money. I-I can’t do this anymore, I feel like a gold digger and I hate it! I don’t want to be your assistant, I want more and I–”

• Lucifer heard more and is struck with the overwhelming urge to kiss you

• “How much more?” He asks instead, voice cracking in anticipation, “If it’s in my power, it’s yours for the taking.”

• “Mr Morning—“

• “You want more? I can give you more. I can give you everything, anything, just tell me what you want. I know I’m a mess but I can be better! I can— I can,” Lucifer scrambles to find something, his wild eyes searching the air between you for anything you haven’t already done for him. He sighs, “I can be better, I promise…”

• “Because I want more too. I want to take you on cheesy dates, I want to have you beside me everywhere I go, I want all of Hell to know you’re mine. I want you to come here and stay here because you want to!” He wheezes and tugs at his collar, “And now I feel like want isn’t a word anymore because I’ve been saying it too much— do you ever do that? You say it over and over again and it starts to.. to…”

• He stares at your hand, placed softly over his to stop him from clutching at his clothes. Oh fuck, he can’t breathe

• “You’re really working for that pride title, aren’t you?” You tease softly, smoothing out the wrinkles in his vest before stealing his other hand, “Tell me more about what you want, Mr—“

• “Lucifer,” He all but begs

• “Lucifer,” You hum and he shivers, “What else?”

• “Don’t leave me,” He breathes, “I’ll be better.”

• “You’re already enough.”

• Painfully aware of how close the two of you have become, Lucifer struggles to keep your eyes locked with his. Your lips look so enticing, they always have

• His voice is quiet, almost broken, when he says, “I—I need you to say it.”

• “I won’t leave you. I’m still quitting though,” You smile, hovering over his lips, “So you’ll have to find a different way to compensate me.”

• “Pfft. Easy peasy,”

• He says nonchalantly as if he hasn’t tripped over nothing imagining your lips on his before. It’s nothing compared to the real thing

• Once again, you’re overcompensated

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ hello hi ✨! you’re getting a kith, c’mere. I absolutely see the vibes you’re going for and I am here for it!

i think tony and pepper are hilarious and adorable but i recognise it isn’t the healthiest of relationships out there. i know that’s not what you were implying at all though! the flirting, the bizarre requests, the shameless spending, the nonstop talking, the nonexistent boundaries, the devotion– yes, i see it i see it i see it!

i don’t think lucifer would raise his voice (not to you, anyways) you could get away with actual murder and that’s before he realizes his feelings for you. he can get rid of a body easily

lucifer may (like tony) forget the day of important dates but when he realizes, he makes up for it completely! he feels awful about it

if you look at something for 3 seconds too long, he’s buying it. if you show him something, he’s buying it. if he thinks you want it, he’s buying it

(like pepper) you definitely do put up with a lot of similar antics behind them though are good intentions and lucifer’s better at accepting fault. so if they genuinely upset you, he’ll find a way to mend it... usually it goes over the top

there’s really nothing lucifer wouldn’t do for you, it just takes some reminding that you’d do the same for him

[sinnabarmoth]

Taking Care

Pairing: Rafayel x Fem|Reader

Prompt: Mini fic of Reader being a soft!dom with the lads. (Not necessarily sexual, just sweet 'let me take care of you' vibes)

Word count: 1k

Links to the other lads: (Sylus) (Xavier) (Zayne)

You hadn’t heard from Rafayel in a couple days which was…concerning. For someone that got upset when you forgot to text him at least once a day his radio silence was baffling. You texted, you called, but nothing. You even tried asking Thomas but he just shrugged and said that sometimes when Rafayel was working on a new piece he went full hermit mode. No one but the food delivery driver was going to see him.

You decided that just wouldn’t do. You knew how Rafayel was and you would not put it past him to forget to eat or sleep because he was too in the zone while working. So you went to the store to buy some ingredients for a home cooked dinner and went to his place. You let yourself in using the spare key he had given you and wandered in. No signs of life in the living room or kitchen. You put the groceries away and went to the studio.

Sure enough, there he was. He was sat in the middle of the floor hunched over a canvas. There was some old half eaten food containers shoved off to the side and various sketches scattered around the floor.

“Raf,” you said, “Still alive over there?”

He sat up straight and you could hear his bones crack as he straightened. You could see him wince as he stretched and turned to look at you. “Oh hi,” he said, “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering your phone, I came to check on you.” you got closer and noticed that his entire person was covered in smudges of paint both fresh and dried. His hair was greasy and lank, and there were huge bags under his eyes. There was also an undeniable funk coming off of him that made your nose wrinkle. “Good thing I did too. What on earth are you doing?”

“Inspiration called and I had to answer.” he gestured to the painting. “She’s nearly done. I’ve been adding the finishing touches.”

“Okay. Glad to know you’ve been working hard but this is too much. You smell terrible and when was the last time you slept?”

“I don’t need sleep.”

“Yes, you very much do.” you held out your hand, “You can finish your painting tomorrow. You’re mine tonight.”

“Oh really?”

“Not in that way. Come on.” you hauled him to his feet and pulled him into the bathroom.

“Cutie, this really isn’t necessary--”

“Raf, sweetie,” you cupped his face, “You don’t look well. I knew there was a chance you weren’t taking care of yourself but I didn’t realize it was this bad. Now come along, we’re gonna get you cleaned up, I’m making us dinner, and then you are going to bed. Got it?”

“I know better than to say no to you.” he smiled. “What do you want me to do first?”

“You can start by brushing your teeth and having a shave, you’re stubbly.” you turned him to the sink. “I’m gonna draw you a bath.”

After he had finished you ordered him to strip and get in the tub. There was a cheeky offer to join him but you shook your head and told him he wasn’t getting anything like that until after he had a full night’s sleep. You did however sit at the edge of the tub and reclined his head back so you could wash his hair and massage his scalp. A deep sigh of satisfaction left him as you gently lathered the grease out of his hair. You left him to dry himself off and went to the bedroom to grab a change of clothes and threw his dirty clothes in the wash.

He looked so much better. “There’s my clean soft boyfriend again.” Without having to worry about his bad breath you pulled him down and gave him a kiss, little droplets of water from his still wet hair dripped onto your hands. “Feeling any better?”

“Much.”

“Good. Now come along. I’m gonna get dinner started.”

“Want any help?”

“No. You’ll just slow me down. You can pick out a movie for us to watch though.” you pulled him into the living room and sat him down on the couch. “Stay.”

“Yes ma’am.” he gave a little salute and turned on the TV. You went into the kitchen and started cooking. It wasn’t anything extravagant, just some simple porridge that was filling and hearty.

As you were cooking you kept glancing over at Rafayel just to make sure he was still doing okay. It broke your heart seeing how little he was taking care of himself. Was this what he was like before? How many times had he done something like this? Did Thomas pull him out of his spirals or did he end up just crashing and took care of himself after he got some actual sleep? You didn’t want to know. He had you now and you weren’t going to let him keep up these kinds of bad habits. Inspiration be damned! His health mattered more to you.

Once the food was ready you handed a large serving over to him, threw a blanket over your laps, and settled down to watch the movie he had picked. “Thanks for doing all this. It wasn’t necessary though. I was fine.”

“You were most decidedly not fine, Raf.” you ran a hand through his hair. “You looked like death warmed over and smelled just as bad. It’s not just you anymore, you have to take better care of yourself, doesn’t matter about inspiration. I want you healthy. And if you can’t be trusted to take care of yourself then I’ll do it for you.”

“I’m glad to have such an attentive caretaker.” he leaned his head on your shoulder. “I might just fall asleep right here.”

“Not until after you eat.” you picked up a spoonful of porridge and brought it to his mouth. “Eat.”

“You’re also a very no nonsense kind of caretaker.” Rafayel sighed but happily opened his mouth to accept the porridge.

“I don’t mess around when it comes to caring for what I love.” you kissed the top of his head. “Now keep eating, we’ll go to bed in a bit.”

After dinner was eaten and the movie finished Rafayel was really close to nodding off. He had started slipping about three quarters of the way through the film. When you asked him if he wanted to go to bed he shook his head and said he wanted to finish the movie first. You figured he was just too comfortable curled up next to you to want to move. But when the credits started rolling you dragged him off to the bedroom so he could have a sleep in a proper bed.

You snuggled in next to him, holding him close. “Good night, Raf. Sweet dreams.”

“So long as you are here, I know they will be.” he sighed, his eyes slipping closed. “I love you.”

You smiled and kissed his sleeping face. “Love you too.”

[fyodoro]

𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐒𝐞𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞 !

-> He’s tough, but can he stay that tough when it’s just him and his beloved?

Ft. Shuji Hanma and Rindou Haitani

Cw) cursing, reader is called crazy once in hanma’s part, mentioned murder in rindou’s, ran’s a little shit, throwing my Rindou Neon Genesis Evangelion enjoyer headcanon in here, kinda corny ngl!!!

: ̗̀➛Hanma

Hanma Shuji should be incapable of loving someone. At least, that’s what anyone who’s met him believes.

Unhinged, violent, cruel, and ruthless. Any word that’s similar to crazy fits Hanma like a puzzle piece. Simply imagining him in a healthy relationship seemed otherworldly.

And yet somehow, there was someone crazy enough to see past all his flaws.

It was bewildering to watch it all unfold. The Hanma Shuji treating someone with humanity and pure respect, without any ulterior motives? Impossible. Was this the same Hanma in the delinquent world?

Apparently it was.

Of course, Hanma kept his cold exterior in public. But he still showed affection with little things, like giving you his jacket in the cold. And if it wasn’t too crowded- he’d more than likely hold your hand.

They were little things, but they baffled everyone around him.

Everyone but you.

This was the Hanma you knew, your Shuji.

You weren’t oblivious to who he was outside of you, it’d take a real fool to be unaware of that side of him. But did that side of him really matter when it wasn’t the one he treated you with?

To say you were worried on some nights he came home late would be an understatement. Yet the second you hear a knock on your door, all you fear washes away and is replaced with hope, rushing to the peephole to check who it is.

And there he is- standing there with that sly grin of his. You waste no time in opening the door for your boyfriend, not a millisecond.

“Shu!” You say, a smile creeping onto your face. But seeing him up close makes it impossible to miss the bruises scattered across his face and knuckles- one more noticeable than the other. “Another fight I see?”

“You know me babe. You gonna let me in, or nah?” You move to the side, allowing him to enter. He looks around for a moment, as if he was taking in a place he’s never seen before. “Somethings different.” He concludes.

“Different? You were here this morning, nothing changed since then.” You rolled your eyes playfully, but Hanma was seriously trying to spot a difference.

“Nope, there’s a difference…”

The way he’s continuously turning his head and squinting in certain directions almost makes him look… funny. If someone who’s never heard of Hanma walked through the door right now, the last thing they’d assume he is would be a delinquent.

For some reason, that made you feel warm and fuzzy.

“I got it, it’s a candle, isn’t it?” The way his eyes light up at the realization makes you giggle. “Pumpkin donuts. I got it last Halloween, but never used it.”

“You mean we got it last Halloween.” He corrected.

“Well who paid for it?”

“You may have paid for it, but I picked it out.”

You stared at each other for a moment, only to break out into a fit of laughter. “Okay- okay. Fine… the candle we got last Halloween.” You giggle.

“That’s better!” He chuckled obnoxiously.

That warm fuzzy feeling in your chest got stronger, and it was only then you realized what it was.

Only you get to see this side of Shuji.

No one else gets to see the relaxed, funny, friendly side of him. It’s a side that’s reserved for you and you alone.

You could stay like this forever, you think. Just standing here watching Hanma genuinely smile and laugh was more than enough to keep you happy.

“Say, you gonna let me treat those wounds of yours this time? Or are you gonna say-“ “A few bruises never hurt me baby. I can sleep it off.” He cut you off with the same old excuse.

“You stubborn little…”

“Ah ah ah, I may be a stubborn little asshole, but…”“you’re my stubborn little asshole.” You finished his sentence for him, a grin making its way onto his face.

Despite your boyfriend’s reluctance, you still treated his wounds. The last time he came home like this he refused to let you help- and you weren’t letting him get away this time.

As much as he complained, saying he was a ‘grown man and didn’t need treatment for bruises’, he enjoyed every bit of it.

As long as it was you taking care of him, he really didn’t mind.

: ̗̀➛Rindou

It was no secret the Haitani brothers were utterly ruthless.

Just before they were teenagers, they already killed a man. Although Ran will insist the kill was just his, anyone else will say they both killed that guy.

But hey, at least they have some fucking charisma. Otherwise they’d be the most insufferable pair known to man. Not only that, but the younger Haitani might not have been able to score the best possible lover for him without that charisma.

Someone who balances him out perfectly.

Ran couldn’t believe it. Sure, the brothers were attractive. Everyone knew that. But you’d have to be real crazy to wanna stick around them after seeing just how unhinged they can be.

Yet somehow, the younger Haitani found someone who was perfectly sane.

“How the hell did you bag someone like them?” Ran whisper shouted in the kitchen, keeping it down knowing you weren’t too far away in the living room.

“Just how deranged do you think I am? I’m much more normal than you y’know.” Ran scoffed at Rindou’s comment, refusing to swallow his pride. “You know what I mean! They’re so… nice. And stunning? Are you paying them?” The younger rolled his eyes.

Sure, maybe you were out of his league by a long shot. But was it really that hard to believe his and yours relationship is a real one? He grumbled as he made his way back to the sofa with snacks for you and him.

“Oh, thanks Rin. You really didn’t have to…” you smiled, and Rindou could feel his cheeks heating up at the sight.

“It was no problem… uh- what movie did you wanna watch?” He asked politely. Ran almost spit his drink out, did his ears deceive him?

“What about The End of Evangelion? I never got a chance to watch it when it came out.” You knew Rindou enjoyed the Evangelion anime, and wanted to get into it more so you two could talk about it without him insisting ‘not wanting to spoil it for you.’

“End of Evangelion it is… I think this is my eighth time watching it.” He chuckled.

“Twelfth, actually.” His older brother corrected him, seemingly appearing out of no where. Rindou groaned in annoyance. Didn’t he tell Ran to leave you two be for tonight?

“Oh, hi Ran!” You greeted. “Hi (Name)! See, Rin? It’s not so hard to greet me, you’re lover right there can do it just fine.” He taunted, watching the way Rindou’s eyes twitched in annoyance with amusement.

“What’d ya want from me?” He groaned.

“Your s/o right there.”

“Excuse me?” He almost yelled, but held back in fear of scaring you off.

“Not like that, man.” Ran laughed. Rindou probably would have ignored it… if it weren’t for the fact you were laughing with him.

It pissed him off. Here he was, trying to have a nice movie night with his s/o. Only to have his brother come in and intrude. “Are you done yet?”

“You tell me. Are you done playing prince charming yet?” You laughed even harder. The two brothers were going back and forth in front of you, and you couldn’t take either of them seriously.

“Whatever, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone now.” The elder waved you two off as he returned to his room, leaving you and Rindou in an… odd… silence.

“About what he said-“

“I don’t think you’re faking anything right now, Rin.” You beat him to it, he thought.

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m faking anything.” He started, taking a breath. “Everything I say and do I mean, you’re the only person I’ll ever soften up around.” He finished, shyly looking at you from the corner of his eye.

“I wouldn’t be lying if I said I didn’t like the special treatment.” You giggled.

“Yeah, you better.” He said teasingly, before looking back at the TV screen.

“So about the movie…”

“You wanna watch it for a twelfth time?” You asked, shocked that he’s not sick of it yet.

“My twelfth time, your first.” He chuckled, hitting the play button.

Instead, it was your first time half watching it, as you and Rindou ended up falling asleep halfway through. But who could blame you? Your bound to feel so relaxed in sleepy when basking in someone you love’s arms.

Ran made sure to take a picture before you two woke up, just to tease Rindou about it fir god knows how long.

© enassbraid 2024. i do not permit plagiarism, translations, or reposts of my work on any platform.

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Prompt 7 with Malleus? And the reader as the ghost? 😳

Visions of the Past; Malleus Draconia

Content; Gender-neutral reader, hurt/comfort, pining left unresolved

Content Warning; Reader death (not heavily described)

Word Count; 700+

Please do not put my work into AI. If you would like to see more of my work check out my masterlist!

Time heals all wounds. But Malleus knew that wasn’t true. Yes, time may heal physical wounds, although not always perfectly, but it no longer weeps or festers. Whereas emotional wounds, such as trauma, grief, and anger do not fade or heal in the same manner as a cut would.

Malleus was standing outside the entrance of Ramshackle, once his nightly walking grounds turned to the home of the first person that befriended him for him. The first person who didn’t know or care, even after finding out about his identity, that he was the Malleus Draconia. A magicless human who treated him as they did with others, but with a tad bit more ease, humour, and kindness since they were friends.

Were friends.

His heart knew though that you weren’t just friends. He had felt this emotion before to some extent with his passion for gargoyles, but they paled in comparison to you.

Your brightness. Your laugh. Your little mannerisms that most wouldn’t pay attention to, but he did. 

“Do you think we’ll still be friends when we’re older,” you mused while on one of your nightly walks with Malleus. Malleus furrowed his brow and looked at you quizzically, “Why wouldn’t we be? I have no intention of not being in your life.” You had stopped moving forward and Malleus came to a stop beside you. “Well, I don’t know. You’re a prince, future king, and you might get swapped in royal business and duties…” You pursed your lips, an unpleasant taste in your mouth. “And isn’t that more important?”  “Do you not like spending time with me?” Malleus’ voice was more sharp, on edge. “NO!” You shouted, the word echoing a bit in the quiet night. “I like spending time with you. I love it!” Malleus looked at you with confusion, and if he were looking at anyone else the way he had been in the past minute, they would have been grovelling, asking for forgiveness. But not you.  “Then why did you bring it up in the first place? Should there not be time, I will simply make it,” he said quietly. A small smile and chuckle replaced the irritated look of moments prior, “I will even make it ‘royal business’ as you put it.” You cough-laughed at his statement, but you only laughed harder when you looked at him to see a baffled expression.  Malleus chuckled lightly, joining your amusement, even though he didn’t understand what was so funny that had you tearing up. You let out a long sigh, recollecting yourself. “Well, I’ll be there then, promise.”

And you had held that promise. Despite both of your hectic lives, you both met at least twice a month. If neither of you had the time? Well, Malleus would just show up outside your place, like old times, and you would both go about the property. Sometimes talking away, and other times in silence, just happy to be next to each other again.

Malleus knew he liked you, loved you even — the way he felt more like himself when he was around you, and a tinge of jealousy made that distinction clear — and he was planning on asking you if you felt the same.

But he didn’t have the chance.

He would never have the chance.

He knew that he wouldn’t have many years with you, but he had planned that it was old age that took you away from him.

Ramshackle had not changed, but Malleus could still smell the scent of soot, even after all of these years. The foyer stopped, and Malleus looked into the gloom of the burnt ruins.

“ … do you remember our promise?”

He had been coming here, once a fortnight, asking the same question and hoping for an answer. Every time all he ever received was the sound of rotting wood and the scampering of mice.

He took in a breath and was ready to leave, to go back to his duties, but he stopped.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He couldn’t see you, but you were here. And that was all that mattered to Malleus. That although you may not physically be here anymore, he had not lost you.

Time may heal all wounds, but Malleus didn’t want this wound to heal. He didn’t want to lose you, not again.

. . .

. . .

A/N; Hope you enjoyed what I came up with for this combination! And *hands you an emotional dragon fae that misses you*

~~~~

Tags; @afunkyfreshblog @bloomstruck @eynnwwyjth @keii-starz @lucid-stories @ryker-writes @syrenkitsune @the-v-lociraptor @twistwonderlanddevotee @xxoomiii

[valentinelocks]

Peter has no idea Steph and Tim aren’t exclusive

So when he walks past Tim in an alcove at Gotham U cozied up awfully close with someone else he doesn’t initially say anything (but by god he’s judging) and when he makes eye contact with him a few days later sucking face with a different girl at the library cafe, Peter makes his disapproval KNOWN.

Missions at Mt Justice don’t change and he doesn’t ask to switch teams or anything drastic - but there’s next to no banter between them anymore. No silly games or witty jokes - Peter just clocks in and clocks the fuck out now. And no can even say anything because - he responds! And he still works just fine when they’re paired up. He also listens / replies when spoken to - he just isn’t friendly anymore.

In fact - he totally shuts down any conversation Tim joins and gets the coldest look on his face which is BAFFLES EVERYONE???

Because holy shit Peter doesn’t like you?? Do you kick puppies for a living - what the hell???

They’ve never really seen Peter mad before. Annoyed - sure. But this ice out is a new one and honestly kind of scary.

And Tim is ???? So confused. Because he has no idea what Peter’s upset about since he hadn’t actually noticed him that day.

Now - Jason obviously finds this hilarious because hell yeah fuck that guy (he knows they’re open he’s just saying choosing to say NOTHING).

Dick doesn’t know what to make of it because he’s pretty sure they were open? But now he’s doubting it because weren’t they just celebrating their anniversary?? (Zatanna mentioned it in passing but his ass was naaawt listening 😭).

No one’s told Damian why Peter doesn’t like Tim right now but he doesn’t care and finds the sudden switch gratifying (he never liked the guy anyway).

Artemis was concerned about the team’s harmony at first but has since decided to stay out of it since it hasn’t affected their work.

But Wally’s been avoiding him too?? Because someone told him a mutated version of the rumour and he now believes Tim tried to bribe Peter to hide his cheating.

[Wally: it’s all alleged but man, who knew he could be such a douchebag?

Roy: (scoffing) it’s a bitch move, that’s for sure.

Jason, who is now hearing a frankensteined version of his own rumour repeated back to him: oh yeah…it’s just - crazy. Really. But you know I heard….]

Everything comes to a head when the rumour gets back to Steph after she comes back from a covert mission so this is literally the intervention that follows:

Artemis: (holding the bridge of her nose) So. We’re gathered here today because I feel there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding.

Tim: there’s no misunderstanding. Spidershit over here’s been spreading FALSE rumours about me-

Peter: I SAW YOU WITH MY OWN EYES YOU PATHOLOGICAL LYING PEICE OF-

TIM: YOU’RE THE MANIPULATIVE LOS-

Steph: shut up! Both of you!

(Silence. Jason coughs)

Artemis: Now does anyone have anything to say before we start? (Sighing) Yes, Pete?

Peter: I get why Steph, Tim and Wally are here. But why’d you call Jason too?

Jason: (Standing up, dusting his pants) he’s right, there’s been a mix up.

Artemis: Sit down Jason - (gestures haphazardly at Wally) just - tell them what you told me. About Tim.

Wally: I…just said that I personally don’t feel comfortable being on the same team as someone who pretended to be an angel of music to manipulate a young girl into loving him with the ultimate intention of keeping her with him forever through fear and…coercion?

Steph: …

Tim: …

Peter: ….dude - what

Artemis: (audibly taking a deep breath) so I don’t know why he just recited the plot of Phantom of the Opera verbatim - but if you think for a second that I’m going to let you walk out in that zeta tube Jason Todd without an explan- SIT DOWN.

Jason: (slumping back in chair, groaning) For the record - I DONT EVEN GO HERE

(The issue was resolved pretty quickly after that)

——-

Jason using his theater knowledge for chaos🤩 another silly behind the scene moment from my fic 🫶

[neo91502]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOMM TIREDSMASHBROS!!!

note for tomm under the read more... lalala💥💥 @tiredsmashbros

ohhh tomm. tomm tiredmashbros, oh do you even know what has happened this, what, past half a year and counting? There has been so, so much improvement these past few months, whether that was to be art or even being able to grow the confidence to actually make a discord server and how well it is and how active it is to this day!!! It’s genuinely felt like it’s been so long, but truly only has been maybe about. since september so like 4 months maybe of the discord server? and so much has happened since then.

Onto the actual much deeper depths of paragraphs, you genuinely have changed my life in ways that I don’t think I could even achieve. Many days on vc’s, joking about the most random things, to the (about) most unexpected things, late night vc’s, the silly sleepover vc’s (technically late night... but shhhh), your paragraphs here, your just genuinely amazing self and personality. Even if you’re just another person in this world, I think you’re some of the best among everyone that I could’ve had the pleasure of getting to meet and know you.

I always loved the times when we vced and went “hey it’d be funny if we watched this video” then did that or, mainly, plan ahead and all. The pikmin iceberg (even if i fell asleep. whoops.), isaacwhy ltlvc, epic the musical, and so much more probably HSJDNSJ. I’ll always remember the first vc I was in with you, or at least the one that I think is the first since I think we both were muted then eventually unmuted JSIDJSSJ I still don’t remember who was all there... i think it’s really funny that like 1-2 months after that, we vced so much and literally couldn’t remember who was there in the first vc JSAKJSKDJD i think that vc was when we had that silly “IM NOT A TYPER” or something i think... I DONT HAVE THE ORIGINAL IMAGE SAVED RN JAHDJDSJ 💔💔💔 and i sounded in such despair because it was like 1 or 2 am for me and i had to be quiet... I always absolutely LOVE our vc’s together, even if i’m caught, i typically don’t actually feel that bad since it’s just like. augh. i have no idea how to explain it💔💔 but yeah 💥💥💥 —> EDIT HERE... LTIERALLY TALKING TO YOU IN DMS AND YOU LITERALY HAVE JT ON HAND. THE IM NOT A TYPER. BROOOOO IM GONNA GET YOU

The surprise you gave me for my birthday and the fact that you did an entire PARTY IN THE SERVER ???? dude i was genuinely so gobsmacked, even if i was late to it NSKDNSKAJA... there was so much going on, i’ll be so fr i literally can barely remember it other than you asking my favroite scene and saying flowerfield sunset and then some bit later you surprised me with the fanart of neo like GUH?????? oh my GOS AJAJSNSNbut even just the MERE IDEA of having a birthday party and the fact that you wanted to do one for me was so surprising and i’m so genuinely hyped for yours like GUH. I’m so HSJSNSJSJSKSKNDJD

as you already know, the drawing above took about 12 hours and 30 minutes to fully finish. honestly, to my first fanart of tsb to this one is just amazing and i wouldn’t be able to see such improvement if it weren’t for you, for your amazing lore of tsb (i will yap about this later...), stealing some of your silly techniques here and there, and so much more. i’m just. baffled at the thought of being here with your birthday today.

oh and your ART. oh my GOODNESS. Where do i even START. for one, i know for a FACT i have stolen silly little things out of your style because of how unique and silly it is and how i do this with all of my friends because i genuinely appreciate and love everything that everyone makes,,, i especially LOVE, oh my goodness do i LOVE how you do your coloring and shading. it’s so unique in a way that works so damn well with how you do your lines, whether it’s sketchy or not, the outlines, everything bro. the rendering gets me the most. you WITNESSED me STRUGGLE to recreate it because i really wanted to try out and do a piece more in your style of things!! i do want to say it had been actually so fun doijg that... i should do it again lalalala... BUT ANYWASY!!!!! i’ve always just. oh my god. LOVE and just BUSHSURHEJSNA i just love how do you comics bro,.... no matter if they’re the ones like your final or the ones like the memories tsb lore... and especially the SPEED YOU GET THESE DONE AT ???? BRO IM SO JEALOUS IN THE BEST WAY POSSINLE... i don’t think i’ll ever stop looking up to you bro...

and now the lore. oh my Lore. Lore lore lore lore . im gonna gET YOUUUUUUU. i’m so INVESTED in tsb’s lore... the creation of this whole universe with cartoony characteristics (it’s literally just. HOW DO I EXPLIJA IT ITS BASISLY LIKE JUST A CARTOON WHDJSNS AND I LOVE IT), pipedream, watchman, the mysterious feeling, the character development. bro EVERYHTING. i cant BELEIVE you hide so much shit in the tiniest things, make entire comics out of what look like such simple asks but no your ass is over here producing COMICS for this bro..... i’m so jealous oh my GOD...... there’s so much i can think of but it feels so little of what we actually know (confirmed) so far... also i see you editing the playlist... your ass is NOT SLICK!!!

comsider all of these paragraphs and everything i’ve said to you already in vc as revenge for all the genuine most kindest paragraphs i’ve read in my life in the reblogs of tsb fanart... guh.... also off topic from this, i realized this is the first time you’ll see me draw emmet oh my god....

i’m so sure i have more to say but my ass actually cant think of anything brooooo.... maybe i’ll send you paragraphs in dms when i think of it and actually remember it GUH.... OH OH WAIT WAIT ALL THE JOKES THAT WE’VE MADE. dude i’m always just being so silly in vc and i think it’s really silly and comedic when you’re over there making silly little doodles and i just go “you should draw tsmg4/smg4 with long hair/smg34” or other alike things.... i don’t think i’ll also ever live down the times when i fell asleep on vc and you were there for i think all of them except maybe 1 ? i have no clue... bro your voice genuinely so calming i’m gonna fall asleep again some day 😭😭

okay enough yapping about that i THINK...., when I first found you, it was literally from the lipbite part 1 comic 😭😭 and i was like “oh hey, i actually kind of really like this person’s art!!” so yk. i followed you!!! if i told my past self that i’d be sitting here right now, typing all of this out, they wouldnt believe me. I’m genuinely just so baffled at the mere thought of being here and being able to call you a friend. hell. i’d even say best friends / close friends bro... i cannot even fathom the thought of that in the past, yet, here i am, able to call you a friend that i talk to about regularly i’d say.

I want to say it again; Happy birthday Tomm, I hope you have one of the best birthdays in your life and thank you for everything.

-Neo 💙

also,,, here’s a silly meme

part 1 of 2 ... i mean. who said that!!!!

part 2 here

[amemoryofwot]

Under the cut for s3 reviews and speculation

So even the positive 9/10 rating reviews mention a huge change from the book in the finale that appears to be to streamline future seasons (with one slightly negative review deeming it “baffling”) and unfortunately with how my brain works I’m going to be ruminating on this even though I know I just have to wait and find out.

The game I’m playing now though is trying to figure out how my interests align with the reviewers to see if it’s something *I* will find baffling or not (for example, Siuan and Moiraine having a relationship into adulthood is a change that has HUGE plot implications but I fully support it lol)

Everybody has been harping on Siuan dying in the coup but I’m like, would a hater reviewer really consider that “baffling” when they’ve all been calling for it? I also don’t see how that would cut down future storylines or how you could entirely cut out Salidar

Moiraine having a S3 finale yeet would also not really be that big of a change from the books, or a shocking change, although I’m still doubtful it’s happening this season.

Even one of the positive reviews mentioned sections of TSR missing, which I’m kind of surprised about because we already knew they weren’t going to be at the Stone and that’s like 300 pages of that book. Then honestly there’s not a lot plot wise that I can’t imagine already being accommodated in even the known casting?

This is kind of making me think Mat doesn’t end up going to the Waste at all, which we also sort of suspected, but he definitely has his foxhead medallion and they keep showing the doorway so I can’t imagine we don’t get the Finn. But I also can’t see how that cuts down on future storylines.

Anyways maybe Thom dies in Tanchico and the dudebro reviewers can’t wrap their heads around who’s going to Ghenjei (it’s Siuan, Siuan is going)

[megalomaniacz]

…ELECTRIC LADY 📺💋🚬

pairing: 70s!ellie x reader

synopsis: the devil’s back in town and there’s no angel to save you.

author’s note: the lack of these ellie fics was baffling. LIKE THE MULLET IS RIGHT THERE! ib the lovely @ellabsweet

part one. > part two.

⋆˚✿˖°

“why’s she keep showing up?”

“well if you give a dog a bone.”

“oh fuck off i ain’t give her nothing but a good time. she’s the one asking me to leave with her to a different state.”

“road trip? maybe that’ll do you good.”

“you need to get fucked every which way and loose. you’re too uptight, doll.”

was why your feet were currently dangling outside the window of the ever charming girl’s 72 grey oldsmobile, cross hanging just above the dashboard. you bop your body a bit before reaching down to grab a tape she’d left on the passenger seat floor.

“aww man, jimi hendrix.” she nods, tapping her finger on the steering wheel. she’s leant back in the drivers seat, eyes cross with the road. cigarette tucked behind her right ear.

“you know, i don’t know you that well anymore. the city’s changed you.” you open her glove box to find a bottle of brown liquor and a light. “and yet you still agreed to come with me.”

“against my will.” you roll your eyes. it’d been three hours into the trip and you were feigning boredom. all the flavor had gone from your gum, and you weren’t in the mood for a book.

ellie was a country city country girl, cause it all happened in that exact order. a couple years ago she moved to where the buildings were brighter and the possibilities were endless. you’d actually been talking about her the day she came back.

“that’s ellie.” you point to the picture of the smiling girl pinned to the diner wall. “she’s a big star now, too good for us.” you explained to eilaine. she’d just moved into town and you two quickly bonded over music, makeup, and dancing. throw a little gossip in the mix while you’re at it.

you nearly chuck up your milkshake when the chime rings and the aforementioned movie star walks in. hands in her pockets and a smile on her face. she’d cut her hair into a mullet and was dressed like something you’d only seen in a magazine.

“speak of the devil.” you get up to give her a hug.

“and he shall appear.” she hugs back. “hi darling, i’ve missed you.”

a bit of light conversation over some drinks, nuts, and a game of pool that you lost had led you to be huddled up in the hot car with her. how the hell did she convince you to join her in that big city of hers? well it wasn’t all her, your roommates were dying to get you out of there.

“it’s only for a month? let her take you for longer!” dina says mid makeup. she hadn’t even evened out her eyeliner before she started sending you off. and abby was no help. “i can’t protest. i think it’d be good for you, we’ll have that sweet new girl cover your shifts.”

“did you guys plan this behind my back or something?” your eyes follow abby’s body swiftly moving to the closet to pull out a suitcase. “if we did you’d be gone already, now start packing.”

[the-peak-legend-of-first-gen]

You were adapting to these changes reluctantly but eventually. He noticed the subtle shifts—the crimson of your cheeks, the stutter in your speech—but he continued his teasing, playing that relentless game of push and pull.

You two rarely got time alone, but whenever you did, he had to act like a leech. During lunch breaks, you would escape to the terrace, seeking a moment of peace away from his admirers. This was your favorite part of the day because, at the very least, he had the decency to let you enjoy your food. But after school, he was always busy—some club activity, sports practice, or worse, Charles had him running errands like his personal errand boy.

You were busy too, and Charles Choi’s big plan was still a long way from fruition. Still, he made sure to use James until he was exhausted and burned out, extracting every ounce of effort from him. And James, ever obedient, complied every time. It was like he had made a deal with the devil, sacrificing everything—but for what?

You didn’t like it. Truth be told, you were glad you weren’t the only one buried under work, but your heart ached to see him like that. All that pity, however, went out the window the moment he tried to use his lame pickup lines or shove a lollipop into your mouth.

“Diabetes Lee, stay away from me!” you roared, and he cackled like a hyena.

It was fine, in a way. Somewhere at the back of your mind, you accepted it—because at least in those moments, he got to act his age. And it had been happening more often now, thanks to Gun Park and Goo Kim joining your team.

Gun's eyes had frightened you initially, but he was just a guy who minded his own business and stuck to his lane. The blondie, though? A different story. He had so many questions about you, but the one that bothered you the most was, "Are you two dating?"

What the hell? What a narrow-minded guy—just because a boy and a girl were close, they had to be dating? Wow.

But… wasn’t that what you wanted deep down? Wasn’t that what you daydreamed about? When James squeezed your hand in times of distress, when he shared your workload despite being overloaded himself, when his teasing never crossed a line or—

"Who knows?" James had replied, an amused, self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

You immediately whipped around, but he was already gone, leaving a more intrigued Goo behind. You’d deal with this rat later.

Nothing much changed after that, and you were grateful. But ironically, now that work was distributed more evenly and James finally had some free time, you started avoiding him.

You didn’t know why, but your heartbeat quickened whenever he was near. Your palms became clammy. It had been a tiny crush at first, but now you were battling a monster called ‘Hope.’

Hoping that your feelings were returned. Hoping that something might come of it. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, it would be okay.

But weren’t you also hoping back then? When you were rescued? When you thought Sophia would be a kind teacher? When you believed something good would come out of that training?

Hope was a pain. Ugh.

And James, being ever perceptive, picked up on it. One day, he forcefully dragged you out for an impromptu city exploration session.

"Don’t be like that, chief. Who knows when I’ll get free time like this again?"

You sighed, reluctantly tagging along. To your surprise, it wasn’t bad. You visited food stalls, browsed bookstores, and explored everything your budget allowed. When exhaustion finally caught up, you found yourselves in a quiet park.

It was 8 PM. Usually, at this time, you’d be torturing someone, finishing schoolwork, or handling household chores.

This was the first time you had simply hung out.

Well, not the first time—but the first time in a long while. The first time since your parents.

It felt bittersweet.

“Stop.”

You turned to face him. “Stop whatever you’re thinking,” he said firmly.

You blinked, baffled by his commanding tone. “What, you think you can control my thoughts now, Mr. Genius Lee?”

He frowned. “I can when you start getting all melancholic. Don’t ruin the moment.”

Weirdly enough, that made you burst out laughing. “What moment? Are we lovers on a date?”

What did you just say? Were you stupid or something? And why was this redhead grinning like he’d just won the lottery?

You wanted to go home.

“Slip of the tongue! Just forget what I said.” You waved it off, but James Lee was not a man who let opportunities slip by. And he certainly wasn’t letting this one go.

“What slip of the tongue? I’m glad you finally realized it’s a date.”

You froze. What the hell was this dumbass saying? God, please take me home.

“Don’t joke about this,” you muttered, feeling tears prick the corners of your eyes. That damn monster, Hope, was clawing at your chest again. People always gave it to you, only to crush it cruelly.

His tone turned serious. “I’m not joking.”

You looked up at him, wide-eyed.

“Who’s really joking here?” he continued. “A few months ago, you told me not to ignore you, not to push you away. And now, out of nowhere, you start avoiding me?”

You were at a loss for words. So, he didn’t want you to ignore him. Okay. He wanted this to be a date? Checked. That meant… he liked you too?

What the hell.

It had all seemed fine in your imagination. But to actually do it, to actually acknowledge it? You weren’t sure how you felt. You weren’t sad, but you weren’t jumping for joy either.

He was a leech. A horrible tease. Nonetheless…

“I thought what Goo said made you awkward,” you admitted. “That’s why you left abruptly. I didn’t want to create unnecessary tension, so I started avoiding you��not ignoring you.”

The seriousness evaporated from his face, replaced by his usual mischief. “Oh, that’s it? I wouldn’t have minded the tension. And honestly, I should be thanking that money-hungry rat—he sped things up.”

His smirk widened as he leaned in. “So, say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say that you like me too.”

Instead of answering, you kissed him.

Damn it. Hope was a monster, but Chance was its bitter rival—and you weren’t going to miss this chance.

You pulled away first, but not fast enough to miss the slight dusting of red on his cheeks.

Never mind. It was the first kiss for both of you.

You both leaned in again, but before your lips met—

“I didn’t know you believed in such fast service,” James teased.

You wanted to shut him up.

And so, you did. Conveniently. Sweetly.

With both of you smiling between the kisses.

[shipperssafehaven]

Earth 42 Miles Morales x plus size black reader hcs

As well intentioned as they were, your family’s compliments always tended to be on the backhanded side 

Like whenever your thin cousins were getting attention from boys you had interest in, you had some relative whispering in your ear, “Looks ain’t everything, you’ll find you a nice boy.”

Or when you wore crop tops or shorts, they’d eye you like CRAZY and question you relentlessly: 

“You wearing that?”  “Yep.”  “You sure you don’t want a jacket with that or something?” 

It never got to you per se, just made you feel like you should be insecure even though you weren’t. You didn’t really mind your looks or your body for that matter, but every time they pointed out that you had a beautiful personality or that your shape was “unique”, a small part of you thought maybe you weren’t… physically attractive.                                                     

Enter Miles Morales

You met him at a party of all places 

Originally, you came with some friends who practically forced your attendance but they all ended up splitting up after some guys came up to you in an attempt to get to them.  

And you played along despite your irritation because you knew damn well tagging along was a bad idea and you were already prepared to sneak out the door when they were distracted 

So here’s how it played out:  your head was hung as you had a foot out the door, fully ready to leave. Only you stopped because you were hit with a sudden prickle of awareness that someone was staring... and not regular staring either. It was like someone was burning a damn hole in your head 

You did a complete 180 and turned back around to the party and through a bunch of dancing teenagers, you saw him 

He was leaning against a wall, head tilted and all. He whispered something to his homeboy but still managed to keep his gaze locked solely on you  

 And you couldn’t lie... it had your stomach in knots 

Like you were down bad from A LOOK

But in all fairness, no one had ever looked at you like that before and what made it crazier was that he WASN’T looking away ?? And now in return, you found yourself not being able to either ??

Eventually though, after five seconds or five minutes (you weren’t sure), your friend saw you near the door and called out to you causing you to finally advert your eyes else where 

“You leaving already?”  “Yeah.”  “You sure?”  “What do you mean--” 

She was grinning, gesturing back to the boy’s direction and you were baffled to see him quite literally pushing people outta the way to get to you before you could leave 

It would’ve taken a person at least 3 minutes to get through that crowd but he did it in a total of 10 seconds, and that’s when you knew everything was about to change 

And the rest was history                                                          

From the moment he met you, Miles was mesmerized by you. Every curve. Every smile. Every laugh. Every word you spoke. It took one night for him to know you were it 

You had this man listening to Jodeci on the walk home, LIKE HE FELL IN LOVE instantly 

After talking to you for only an hour, he was asking to take you out

“Let me take you out on a real date, Ma. Without all the noise and people.” “Boy, I’ve known you for an hour. You don’t think it’s too soon?” “Einstein did say time was relative y’know.”  “Miles... I don’t know.” “Look, mami, I’m askin’ you for one date. That’s it. You like me, we’ll see where it goes. You don’t, just tell me to kick rocks and I’ll fall back.”

 And after one date, he knew you weren’t going anywhere so he introduced you to his mom

“Oh, Miles, she’s beautiful.” “Ain’t she.”

And after introducing you to Mama Morales (who loved you deep), he asked you to be his girl despite being nervous cause he’s never been serious about anyone before 

“I’m not tryna scare you or rush you, mami. I just know what I want and that’s you.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.”

You folded immediately and kissed that boy let’s be honest. You stood no chance when he was talking like that c’mon now. In his mind, you were a sure thing, and it left you stunned to know that                                                   

Being with Miles was a lot different than you expected. Initially, you thought he appeared cold and closed off. He seemed like he held the weight of the world on his shoulders, and you figured maybe that’d follow into your relationship

 But nah

Miles Morales in any universe was soft with his girl 

Every time he saw you, he’d greet you by taking your face into his hands and gently kissing your forehead. And I mean EVERY TIME

His arm thrown over your shoulder on every walk home? Yep. Holding your hand under the table the first time he met your family? Of course. His fingers pulling you close by your belt loops just to place a delicate peck to your cheek? Absolutely. Him practically racing your ass to the door so he can hold it open for you? Yeah. 

Like that boy would die for you without hesitation 

He was surprisingly open too 

He would lay his head in your lap and tell you stories about his dad for hours and it’d usually end with you wrapping your arms around him after wiping a stray tear or two 

“Sometimes I get scared that he wouldn’t like who I turned out to be.” “Don’t let that live in your head, baby. If anything you told me about that man was true then there’s nothing in this world you could do to make him stop loving your crazy ass.”  “I hope so, Ma. I really do.”  “Just take my word for it.”  “He would’ve loved you, you know.”  

Your connection only got stronger by each passing day                                                       

Now...  back to your family. They were SHOCKED when they met Miles. Those backhanded compliments went from you being able to brush them off to fully getting under your skin 

And the reason it stung so damn bad was because they meant well 

Your aunt nearly tripped on her own two feet when that boy came to the family cookout. She was immediately pulling you to the side to ask how you managed to pull it off 

Then you had your mama coming to your defense with a: “My baby’s just got a great personality. That’s all that matters at the end of the day.”

And she was right but... damn. It felt like they didn’t think it was possible for someone like Miles (or anyone, really) to think you were cute. It hurt the little girl inside you that was buried with insecurities 

Growing up as a bigger girl, people never showed interest in you like that because you didn’t fit the “norm” 

Sure, there were a few boys who eyed you, but they never made it a point to step up to you and ask you out. They were always too embarrassed or cowardly 

 Then Miles came along and erased all that

 Whenever you tried to deny food, he’d kiss his teeth and give it to you anyway 

“One thing you not gonna do is starve my girl.” 

Or when you’d be looking in the mirror, muttering something under your breath about your figure, he’d come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist letting his head rest on your shoulder

“Watch how you talk ‘bout my woman, mami.” 

Or when you subconsciously laid your arms over your stomach so they were covering it, he’d grab your hand without saying a word 

With Miles, you had to unlearn all the habits you picked up and it was a challenge at first but you were better for it. He loved you so much that it made you wonder why you didn’t always love yourself

So when your family was in your damn ear, acting all surprised you cuffed him, you were folding back into your old self a lil bit

You managed to ignore them 

... until you were sitting at the dinner table with Miles by your side 

Your aunt was firing question after question at him, and he patiently answered each one 

Then she pulled out the one that had the room falling silent and your heart aching

“Well, how’d she get your attention? I always pictured [name] with a bigger boy- you know, someone like her... who could... keep up with her and... hold her.”

The hand that was holding yours under that table got tight real quick lmao 

You could tell he was biting the fuck out of his tongue and his jaw was clenched for a split second. You were half scared he was about to pick your ass up outta your chair to prove her wrong 

“The only person I picture her with is me so nah, I don’t know. As for how she got my attention? She had it from the moment I saw her. What you should be askin’ is how I got hers. God knows I ain’t deserving of it.” 

You had the biggest lump in your throat and your eyes were watering, and all you could do was send him a wavering smile 

Your feelings for him ran deep but it was in that moment that you knew you loved him 

At that point in the relationship, you were happier than ever. But those comments made by the people you love most created a doubt that wouldn’t let up 

There was this lingering thought in the back of your head that Miles wasn’t attracted to you  

You were sitting on his bed one day while he was sitting at his desk drawing something in that book of his 

When you finally couldn’t handle the loudness of your thoughts anymore, you straight up asked him to talk you down 

Immediately, he was sitting in front of you taking your hands into his. When he asked you what was wrong, you simply frowned 

“Do you find me attractive?”

You might as well have slapped that boy. He was stunned. He tilted his head to the side and looked at you like you lost your damn mind 

“You being serious, Ma?” “Extremely.” “Why you even askin’ me that?” “Why aren’t you answering?” “Cause it’s a stupid question. You know you the most beautiful woman to me.”

You looked down at that and shook your head, feeling bad that outside opinions were starting to make you pick arguments 

Then you had him picking up your chin, forcing you to look at him 

One thing about Miles was he wasn’t going to let you just argue- you were going to properly communicate your feelings one way or the other 

“What would make you think otherwise, huh?” “Look, it took me a long time to like myself. I ain’t nearly as insecure as I was, but sometimes with my family- they just- they just make me feel like I should be, you know?” “I see.”  “And that’s got nothing to do with you, baby. I swear up and down that I feel secure with you. I just know them, and I know they think you’re with me solely cause of my heart.” 

Miles brought both your hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to each 

“You’ve got the most beautiful soul I know, but I ain’t know all that until I talked to you.” 

He got up abruptly and grabbed that book he was drawing in off his desk and then turned back to you. Without a word, he handed it to you. 

You were hesitant to look inside and waited for his nod of approval and once you got it, all you were greeted with when you opened the book was yourself 

Flipping through the pages you saw pages dedicated to your curves alone. You saw every twinkle in your eyes, every smile, every mark on your body, and it amazed you that he viewed you like this.

Choked up, you barely got out, "You drew these?" "I drew you so damn much that I had to get you your own book. Cause like I said, mami, you the most beautiful woman to me."

He crouched down in front of you, returning the smile you so effortlessly wore now. You leaned forward until your forehead was resting on his and let him go on

"Don't get me wrong,” Miles started, placing his hand over your heart, “this is what I love best- it’s my favorite thing. But you wanna know what made me push all them people outta the way to get to you that night? That was pure attraction.” 

All in all, with Miles, you felt more beautiful than ever. And those days when you would question it, he was always there to put to bed all your doubts and insecurities. That boy loved you more than life itself 

[vivemonroi]

Can we talk about Hallelujah and how it represents Solavellan? We've long considered Hallelujah as the hymn for Solavellan, but I never fully realized how deeply it might reflect their love.

I combined lyrics from Leonard Cohen’s version and Rufus Wainwright’s rendition to get a "full picture."

Content spoilers!

I imagine that it’s Lavellan singing to Solas, sharing how she sees him and his story.

Now I′ve heard there was a secret chord That David played, and it pleased the Lord But you don't really care for music, do you? It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth The minor falls, the major lifts The baffled king composing Hallelujah

The "baffled king" could represent Solas and his god-like status during the Evanuris era. Even with his power and knowledge, Solas could be seen as someone vulnerable, struggling with the burdens of his choices. This reflects his grandeur and his inner conflict, showing that despite his god-like status, he was still susceptible to doubt, regret, and even love.

Your faith was strong but you needed proof You saw her bathing on the roof Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you

Now that we know more about Solas and Mythal’s relationship, I think that the "her" mentioned is actually Mythal, and Solas was willing to do anything for her. This includes obtaining a physical body and standing by her side no matter what.

She tied you to a kitchen chair She broke your throne, and she cut your hair And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

But eventually, Mythal leaves Solas, who remains attached to her. She "broke his throne," meaning she pushed him to rebel; she made him cut his hair… and now the guy is bald. Clearly, this represents his betrayal.

The Hallelujah signifies the deepest, most sacred love — he still loved her, even then. But their relationship was ultimately toxic for both of them.

Maybe I've been here before I know this room, I've walked this floor I used to live alone before I knew you I've seen your flag on the marble arch Love is not a victory march It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Now Lavellan is singing about herself and her life before Solas. She was alone, especially after the Conclave and becoming the Herald of Andraste. The Dalish rejected her, and humans weren’t her people — much like Solas himself, upon awakening to a world that was no longer his.

With him, she discovers a love deeper than any she has known, she realizes that loving someone is not a "victory march." Her love for him is filled with pain and bittersweetness. It's hard to love him, yet she love him still.

There was a time you'd let me know What's real and going on below But now you never show it to me do you?

This is about the time they shared during the events of the Inquisition. He taught her about the Fade and the ancient gods, but after Trespasser, he vanished, concealing his true self beneath the mask of Fen’Harel.

And then there’s the line, “you’d let me know what’s real.” Remember what Solas said after they defeated Corypheus, just before he walked away forever?

“I want you to know that what we had was real.”

And remember when I moved in you? The holy dark was moving too And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Both could represent the time they shared or her attempts to reach him after Trespasser. The "holy dark"— maybe the Blight?

You say I took the name in vain I don′t even know the name But if I did, well, really, what's it to you?

She didn’t know his true title, the Dread Wolf, a part of his very nature and ancient past. Yet she wonders: if she had known, would it have changed anything?

Now there's a different versions for Lavellan who want to save Solas and Lavellan who want to stop him.

The redeemed and happy version.

There's a blaze of light in every word It doesn′t matter which you heard The holy or the broken Hallelujah

At first glance, it may seem like the holy love, the holy Hallelujah, represents his love for Mythal, and the broken one for Lavellan. But I think it's the opposite: Mythal is a god, yet their love is broken; Lavellan is mortal, but her love for him is divine. Both of them have the power to redeem him, in different ways — one through letting go, and the other through allowing him to be loved.

I did my best, it wasn′t much I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch I′ve told the truth, I didn't come to fool you

The words point directly to Solas, she tries to convince him, that their love can find a way to endure. She isn't like Mythal, she accepts him, his nature. But he's afraid, he's not allowing himself to move forward.

And even though it all went wrong I′ll stand before the Lord of Song With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

Even in the end, Lavellan still holds onto her love for Solas, with nothing on her tongue but their sacred love.

She is his future.

Now to the grim and sad version

Maybe there's a God above And all I ever learned from love Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you

He deceives her, and all that love has taught her is sorrow. Mythal' and Solas' history confirms that.

She remains steadfast, standing in his path, even if it means his end, because her love and his history taught her "to shoot at someone who outdrew you."

And it′s not a cry you can hear at night It's not somebody who′s seen the light It's a cold and it′s a broken Hallelujah

In this version, their love is doomed to be cold and broken. There is no light. She has given up on him, yet the suffering remains, deep and unrelenting. Still, it is a Hallelujah.

He is all alone, facing his most terrible fear. Yet he believes he deserves it and it's the only thing that can redeem him.

Thank you for reading this! I know I’m being delusional, but it helps me sleep at night.

[souperbloom]

deffo need some subtle sub!luke in my life - maybe y/n and the guys are all talking about sex lives & one of them slips out that luke once mentioned wanting y/n to be in control because it was usually the other way round, so later on they give it a go!

nothing too extreme, just y/n making decisions, praising luke & being on top etc

you don’t even want to know the sound that came out if my mouth when i got this notification.

(if u requested this reveal yourself.) (im joking.) (maybe.)

enjoy <3

————————

secrets, secrets. [L.H.]

🖤 boyfriend!luke

after what seems to be a secret revealed, you and your boyfriend Luke try something new in the bedroom.

a/n: FIRST LUKE SMUT WOOOO. i wrote most of this while listening to classical music which i just think is so silly and on brand for me. i also had a last minute epiphany and changed the title whoops.

CONTENT WARNINGS: references to weed/smoking, angst if you squint, sub!luke (duh), pet names, praise kink, oral (m!receiving), orgasm denial, protected sex.

WORDCOUNT: 5.7k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You hadn’t checked the clock for what seemed to be hours.

The guys and yourself had been wrapped up in a heated discussion sitting in a circle in Calum’s living room, all stoned on your own accord.

The conversation had been flowing since the moment you all sat in your respective places, turning from lighthearted banter into something much more vulgar than you were used to. You all hadn’t seen each other in a few weeks, which meant there was a lot of ‘catching up’ to be had.

But you weren’t quite sure how the simple conversation of ‘how have you been?’ morphed into something along the lines of: ‘have you ever had a dirty dream about me?’

"You’re lying! I can see it in your eyes!" An eager Michael shouts across the room at his dear friend, and your boyfriend, Luke. You watch the entire ordeal unfold perched atop Luke’s restless thigh.

He tries to hide a measly smile, as Michael has caught his bluff.

"Okay, fine… It was one time. Nothin’ to fuckin’ write home about."

"How does that even happen?" Calum, baffled, rubs his hand on his chin.

"It means he thinks about ya’ before he goes t’sleep," says Ashton confidently, motioning towards Luke with a cheeky grin.

"No! That’s not— no."

"Luke, c’mon. Don’t be embarrassed. I’m sure we’ve all had some pretty fucked up dreams about each other." Michael tries his hand at consoling your boyfriend, whose cheeks were now glowing red.

"I’m not embarrassed. You just— you forced it out of me. A man’s allowed to have secrets, y’know."

Secrets.

It always came back to telling secrets.

You’d like to think that you had a pretty open and honest relationship with your boyfriend, as well as his best friends.

But there were still some things about them that you didn’t know.

And you were afraid you were about to find them out.

"Speakin’ of secrets…" Ashton begins, adjusting his posture to rest his elbows on his knees, "…I’ve got one."

Bingo.

"Go ahead. This is a safe space," you say teasingly, trying not to acknowledge the fact that you had been so high for the majority of this conversation that you had completely forgotten to speak.

"Ashton’s got a seeecreeeet." Calum teases Ashton in a singsongy tone, but Ashton’s face was reading more serious than anything. He clears his throat before speaking his mind.

"Call me crazy, but takin’ on the submissive role in bed has gotta be one of the greatest things on Earth. And if ya’ haven’t tried it, then you’re not livin’ right."

You quirk your brow, and take a look at the rest of the room. Each of the guys’ faces were contorted into a different stage of grief.

Michael was amused, clearly. His eyes were wide and glassy like he had just witnessed one of the Seven Wonders. Calum’s jaw was practically touching the floor, trying to bite back a smile that was so obviously hard to hide.

And then, there was Luke.

He wasn’t making a face— his expression was unreadable. The only thing you saw was his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. He swallowed hard, and you noticed that.

"Dude… what? I did not expect that from you…" Michael was still in awe of his friend, as he cupped his cheek with his hand.

"Don’t make assumptions, Mikey. You only live once."

As much as you wanted to say you were shocked, you honestly weren’t. You didn’t know a whole lot about Ashton’s sex life, but this didn’t surprise you. He’s the kind of guy to try anything once.

"Well? Don’t be a prude… Tell us what happened."

"Y/N—" Luke blurts, seemingly attempting to stop this conversation from unfolding.

"What? Am I wrong for being curious?"

"No, no— I agree with Y/N," says Michael, "Since you wanna rave about your endeavors as a submissive princess… Tell us all about it."

Michael’s sly comment earns a snort from Luke, who had been trying to remain steely faced since the moment he had called him out for having sexual fantasies about him. You smile to yourself, eyes darting between Ashton and your boyfriend as their stare down commences.

"What’s so funny over there?" Ashton quips.

Your boyfriend’s eyes shoot down to his lap. "Nothin’."

"Ash, get on with it." Michael was fed up, and ready to hear all about what Ashton was so persistent about.

You can’t help but stifle a giggle as Ashton lets out a sigh. He was taking this a lot more seriously than you thought he would.

"I’m not sure what came over me— but there was this one time. I guess I was feeling particularly lazy er’ somethin’, but I asked her to take over for the night. I won’t get into the nitty gritty but let’s just say; it changed my fuckin’ life."

"I am way too high to be talking about this right now." Calum says, his eyes wide as he is still processing everything.

Ashton continues, "Somethin’ about the feeling of your fate lying in your lover’s hands is just so… exhilarating. You never know what’s gonna happen next— you learn to expect the unexpected… It’s fuckin’ great, man."

Upon Ashton's admission, your seat in Luke's lap shifts slightly. He adjusts you, pulling you closer into his torso and resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Still can't picture it, but... I believe ya'," says Michael with a nod of approval. You laugh, feeling your boyfriend's fingertips drumming against your stomach.

"You guys ever tried it? Don't mean to pry but, as Y/N said, this is a safe space."

The room goes pin-drop quiet. Nobody wanted to speak up; not you, not Luke, not anybody else. It seemed as though this conversation had died out quicker than it came to be.

"Oh, come on. You guys are the freakiest fucks I know. Seriously? None of you?" Ashton presses the group for answers, his eyes landing on you. But you just shrug.

"I'm always on the bottom, Ash. You're preaching to the choir."

"Oh trust me, we know."

"Cal—" Your boyfriend huffs, cutting off his friend and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

Confused, your eyes search around the room for any sign of an answer. You seemed to be out of the loop, which was unlike you in these kinds of situations.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" You can’t help but get a little defensive, now zoning in on the feeling of your boyfriend’s fingernails anxiously biting into your waist.

"Nothing! He means nothing..." Luke tries to defend, his voice a bit pitchy.

You bite back a smile. “Secrets, secrets are no fun…"

"Unless they’re shared with everyone, fuck, I know! But you don’t have to—"

Calum butts in, "Mate, relax. I’m just messing around."

"No, no— don’t give me that bullshit. What were you trying to say Cal?"

You weren’t sure why, but feeling left out of some sort of inside joke or secret was making you angry. Your temper was mellowed from smoking, yet this whole back and forth was getting to you a little more than you’d like to admit.

Luke lets out a sigh from behind you, dropping his chin on your shoulder in defeat. He didn’t feel like arguing anymore, with the rest of the room dead quiet as they wait for Calum to speak.

Calum on the other hand was holding back a high smile. A look of ‘I know something you don’t know’ was plastered proudly across his cheeks. He rubs his hands together, glancing at Ashton and Michael before he opens his mouth.

"I know you pride yourself on being a pillow princess Y/N, but… Luke wants to see you in charge."

Immediately, your face flushes pink. You didn’t know what you were expecting Calum to say, but it sure as hell wasn’t that.

It was almost as if everyone in the room was trying not to burst into laughter, Ashton and Michael slapping each other’s legs to get the other to stop snickering.

You swallow the newly formed lump in your throat, taking a second to look each of your friends in the eye.

"Well, this is news to me—"

"You fuckin’ suck, Cal." Luke blurts, embarrassment and anger laced through his tone.

As you sit cross legged, still perched on Luke’s thigh, you feel a tap at your lower back. This was your boyfriend’s cue; an unspoken means of telling you 'let’s get the fuck out of here.'

"I’m sorry," Calum laughs, "I didn’t mean t’ hit a nerve with that one."

"Luke, wait—" pleads Michael, who had been rather quiet throughout this whole ordeal.

"I think we’re gonna head out."

Soon enough, you’re rising to your feet, and your boyfriend is quick to follow. He grabs your bag from off of the floor, scooting you closer into the awkward energy of the circle. The rest of the guys just look at you in pity, but you were far too busy in your own head to notice their stares.

Luke wanted you to be in charge?

"Can’t force him to stay if he doesn’t want to," Ashton shrugs, clasping his hands together between his knees, "I guess we’ll see you two tomorrow?"

You purse your lips to reply to Ashton, watching your boyfriend feverishly pack up your belongings and shift you towards the nearest exit. But Luke is quicker than you, cutting right to the chase.

“Yeah, sure. Somethin’ like that."

The entire car ride back to Luke’s apartment was silent.

You were still hung up on how awkward those last few minutes had played out; but a part of you was just dying to know more about Luke’s little secret.

Pushing boundaries was something that you hadn’t yet considered when it came to you and your boyfriend. Your relationship was fairly new; with the both of you still testing the waters and occasionally stepping out of your comfort zones.

Luke was excellent at reading you. He paid very close attention to detail, which was one of the things that had you falling so hard for him in the first place.

But there was a piece of you that felt guilty for prying this all out of him, the way his entire demeanor seemed to drop when Calum spilled his beans. He was embarrassed, from what you could tell. And you weren’t quite sure what to do.

"Luke?" You pop your head out of the bathroom door, your face wash in hand, looking into your master bedroom at Luke splayed across the mattress. He’s still fully dressed, laying flat on his back with his shoes hanging off of the side.

You, however, took it upon yourself to get ready for bed. You took off your makeup, brushed your teeth, and changed into a little plaid pajama-short set to try and get your mind off of the awkward energy still floating in the air.

"Luke…" He hadn’t replied the first time you called out his name, so you tried your luck again. This time, he just sighed, before turning his head to face you.

His sandy blonde curls were haphazardly strewn across the made comforter. His body restless, as he drummed his hands along his abdomen and waited for you to reply.

"Yes?"

"You okay?"

"Mhmm."

Your shoulders drop in defeat, your eyes still lingering on his lanky frame. He lets out a deep breath before looking at the ceiling again, gnawing on his bottom lip mindlessly.

"I’m sorry," you say, "I didn’t mean to embarrass you."

"You didn’t."

His short replies were making your stomach churn. It was unlike the both of you to be so cautious with each other, walking on eggshells in hopes that the other would just let up and speak their mind. You didn’t want to make it worse, either— it seemed like this affected him, and the last thing you needed was for it to be your fault.

You turn back to face the bathroom counter, continuing your nightly skincare. But from behind you, you hear shuffling. The sole of a shoe hitting the floor, then another. The sound of a jacket unzipping, and pooling to the floor as well.

You could see Luke’s slouched posture in the mirror through the doorframe, watching him slowly rid himself of his clothes and leaving him in nothing but his grey t-shirt and pink heart boxers. The ones you gifted him for Valentine’s day.

The water was warm as you started to wash your face, warm enough to let yourself relax for a moment. It dripped down your forehead, into your eyes, momentarily shielding you from your surroundings as you bent over the sink.

In your daze, you turn the faucet off, your eyes screwed shut and vision starry. But as you blindly reach around the counter for a towel, you feel someone hand it to you.

"Here," the familiar voice drawls from behind you, before you feel a broad hand slither around your waist.

You let out a whimper from the back of your throat, unable to say "thank you" now, as you grab the towel from Luke’s hand realize his hips are digging into your backside.

When you dry your face and regain your vision, you stand upright. Luke’s torso is warm, and inviting, his blistered palm making headway beneath your shirt to drag across your torso. In the mirror, you see his face contort into a mellow smile, his curls pushed back away from his eyes.

"Hi," You whisper into the mirror, water dripping off of your eyelashes and down your cheek.

"Hi, pretty."

"Are you mad at me?" You hated asking that question.

"Of course not, why would I be mad at you?" Luke replies, pulling you into his cotton t-shirt.

"You seemed like you were a few minutes ago." The feeling of his fingertips was getting to be distracting.

"No, no. It was just— something I’d been meaning to tell you but… I just never got around to it."

"Oh."

His other hand has made it to your waist. "Are you mad at me?"

"Never."

"Good to know."

For a moment, the two of you stare at your reflections in the mirror. Luke’s eyes rake down your body, his hands still wandering along the delicate skin of your tummy beneath your shirt. You sigh into him, leaning backwards to rest your head on the crook of his neck.

"Wanna try something new tonight?" He asks, his voice huskier than before and mumbling into the top of your head.

"Mmm, like what?" You were unable to hide your melodic hums as his hands move closer beneath your breasts.

You already knew what Luke was going to ask of you, the excitement bubbling in the pit of your stomach as his eyes wandered, pretending to think.

To be honest with yourself, you had already thought a lot about what’d it’d be like if you two switched places for a change. But you were always too nervous to bring it up, especially in the heat of the moment.

"Want you t’ be in charge tonight, pretty. Do whatever you want t’me. Think you’d be interested?"

"Yes," you breathe without even a second thought, entranced by his fingertips as they creep towards the waistband of your shorts, "I’d love to."

"Sounds good t’me."

Not a second passes before Luke is spinning you around to face him. He dips down, and plants a gentle kiss on your lips, leaving you with a fuzzy head and a fluttering stomach.

When you pull away from him you notice the twinkle in his ocean blue eyes that hadn’t been there before. It was a look of anticipation. Pure excitement. You were about to try something new with the person you loved most in this world, and he was about as thrilled as you were.

You could just tell.

"How can I be good for you, pretty? Wanna be your good boy tonight."

His words made your heart skip a beat, but you figured it’d be best to just play it cool.

"Wellll—" You press your index finger to his chest, "Maybe start by getting on the bed?"

"Are you gonna come with me?" He asks sweetly, still holding you in his hands.

"Of course, baby… But I need you to just sit tight and wait for me, okay?"

He nods quickly, biting back a smile between his teeth before he’s shuffling out of the bathroom towards the bed. You linger in the doorframe for a moment, watching in complete awe as Luke crawls to the top of the mattress and sits with his back resting against the headboard.

Doing exactly what you had asked him to.

You start in slow strides towards him, swaying your hips with each step in hopes to kill some time.

You wanted to figure out a game plan. Since you’d never done this before, you weren’t sure where to start; and as much as it wouldn’t be shameful to ask Luke for advice, you wanted to impress him.

"Okay, done. Now what?" The anticipation in his voice made you want to just explode on impact. He was just the cutest fucking thing.

"Hmmm," you hum, crossing your arms as your eyes scan his body, "I’m gonna need that shirt off."

"Yes ma’am."

He then crosses his arms in front of his torso, pulling the hemline of his shirt over his head. He tosses it to the side, revealing his bare chest sprinkled in sandy blonde chest hairs.

As you watch him move, you gnaw on your bottom lip, scanning down his practically naked body and thinking of all of the things you could do. All of the things you could do to make this right for him. To make this worth wild.

You glance down at your plaid pajama shirt, clad and held together by buttons that gap between your breasts.

And then, you get an idea.

"You ready for me baby?" You ask your boyfriend, whose legs had been crossing and uncrossing impetuously as he watches you near closer to the bed.

"Mhm."

"Gonna play a game with you, m’kay?"

"M’kay." He mocks your gentle tone.

Before you could explain the rules of this new, made-up game of yours, you start to move. Dipping one knee down into the mattress, then the other. You crawl to him, straddling his lap and settling down atop of his obvious hard-on.

He was turned on just by the thought of you.

"It’s very easy," you start to say, reaching for the first button of your blouse, "and there’s only one rule."

Luke’s hands hover around you awkwardly, unsure of where to rest them, unsure if he was even allowed to touch you at all.

"What is it?" He asks, swallowing and adjusting himself beneath you.

"Tell me I’m pretty."

His eyes widen. He had finally noticed your hand lingering and toying with the button on your top.

"You’re pretty, baby. The prettiest."

And with that, the first button comes undone. You move your hands down to the second.

"Tell me I’m pretty."

His tongue juts out to wet his bottom lip, his hands now stagnant at his sides and twitching by your calves.

"You’re so pretty. Prettiest girl in the world."

Second button, undone.

"Tell me I’m pretty, baby. Tell me again."

As you reach for the third button, you make a point to grind your hips down, swiveling them in a way that he’d feel it. His face contorts in bliss, petal pink lips parting slightly.

"You’re so fuckin’ pretty… Prettiest I’ve— ever seen."

Third button, undone.

"Tell me more, baby. Tell me again."

You grind your hips down again, and a soft whimper escapes the back of his throat. You could feel his hands fidgeting down by your legs, reaching out to touch something that wasn’t even there.

"So fuckin’ beautiful… My pretty girl— ah—" He's cut short with another dig of your hips. The paper thin material of your pajama shorts leaving absolutely no room for the imagination. You could practically feel his cock twitching beneath your core, but you weren’t ready to give in just yet.

With his last words of affirmation, you undo the last two buttons on your own accord. The breeze from the air conditioning makes you shiver, instantly perking up your nipples.

Luke noticed that, too. He always does.

"So, so pretty…" He utters with one last labored breath, as if it were the last he’d ever take, upon seeing your chest.

"You did so good for me, didn’t you baby?"

Luke hums quietly, clearly feeling some sort of release due with the pressure of your body on top of him. You notice his hands trembling still, down at his sides and oblivious to the thought of touching you.

"You can touch me, y’know. Been’ such a good boy for me so far."

The eye contact between you was like trance; it was gentle, and warm. Still wavering with uncertainty, yet eager to continue. Luke’s hands eventually make it to your waist, something he had been dying to do since the moment you straddled his hips.

You could tell he was still hesitant to let his fingers roam as they usually would, and that was definitely getting to your head.

You swivel your hips one last time without a single word, dipping down to kiss him. Your hands are quick to cup his face, lips interlocking eagerly for the first time since this morning.

It’s not long before your tongues begin exploring, tangling together in the sweetness of your kiss.

You’re still grinding your hips. He’s still in a trance.

Luke’s hands had moved to grip your ass, pushing it down while simultaneously bucking his hips up into your core. This action of his makes you disconnect from him for a moment, a disapproving look in your eye.

"Ah ah ah," you tut at him, his cheeks now squished between your palms. He quirks his brow.

"What?"

"Not so fast, pretty boy. You said I could do anything, right?"

He chuckles, eyes flicking down to your lips, "I did say that, didn’t I? You're right, baby. Tell me whatcha' need from me... I'm all yours."

You suck in a deep breath, trying to ignore the intrusive thoughts that keep poking at your head and telling you to just let him have his way with you. You wanted to remain stern, whether he took you seriously, or not.

"How about this…"

You let go of his cheeks to shrug your pajama shirt off of your shoulders, tossing it onto the floor next to his tee. His pupils shake, eyeing down your breasts.

"…You don’t get to cum ‘till I say so."

"Oh, fuck— you're too good t'me..." His voice is soft and melodic, already so willing to give up the power he usually claims. "Yes. Yes..."

Your palms lay flat on his broad chest, feeling it rise and fall with every breath he took.

He was anxious; anxious in the way that one more subtle touch to his flesh would send his heart thumping right through his ribcage.

You couldn't contain your excitement anymore; just looking at him was already creating a slickness in your panties.

But Luke could've stared at you for hours.

"Are you sure, Lu?" You ask once your delicate boy once more, tracing little hearts with your pointer fingers across his pecs. He nods eagerly, eyes going doe.

"Yes, yes, yes. A million times yes. Have your way with me, please."

With a tug at your bottom lip, you take his words as your cue. You're quick to take out a condom from Luke's bedside dresser, and even quicker to shift your ass down to rest on his thighs.

As you move, his stare lingers. He nods at you slowly, to remind you of his approval. How desperately he wanted you to have your way with him.

His cock twitching and practically popping through the button of his boxers was already telling you everything you needed to know.

To try and read his eager pleas, you begin to palm him delicately through the pink heart fabric, heavenly sounds spilling past his lips and floating to your ears like a siren's melody.

He was grunting, whining; almost as if he were in pain.

"Easy now, baby," you coo gently, as a shiver runs down Luke's body, "Still my good boy, right?"

"Mmmmph."

"Good, good. Just like that, pretty baby." You squeeze your hand around his length, and his jaw falls completely agape.

You weren't planning on teasing him for much longer. It almost felt cruel to do so.

So, instead of waiting any more, you release him from the button of his boxers.

His tip was already leaky with precum; angry and red, that angelic face of his melting the second you wrap your manicured fingers around his shaft.

Tipping down to take him into your mouth, you hollow out your cheeks, tongue laying flat against him as you start to bob your head.

Sucking him off had always been one of your favorite things to do. In your head, it gave you a purpose— and you always loved the praise that would come with it.

But with the power dynamic now in your favor, you were already enjoying it all the more.

"Fuck me, pretty... So fuckin' warm..." Luke groans through gritted teeth, taking his hands to comb through your hair. You hum at him, sending a vibration down your tongue and directly through his body. He jolts, as if he’d been struck by lightning, while your hands begin to claw at his hipbone.

The walls of Luke's bedroom felt like they were closing in on you, each heaving breath that he was taking was making you dizzy. Your nails leave little crescent etchings deep into his flesh, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat each time you duck down.

"Fuck... fuck fuck fuck–" He grunts, he whines, he continues to writhe beneath you, completely at your disposal. You were eating up every single sound he made, every little spasm of his hands or jerk at his hips.

Picking up on the signs, you could tell he was close. He didn't even have to say it.

"Y/N... I–I'm..." He can barely even finish his thought before he's grabbing your hair in a handful. You always loved it when he was a little rough with you, and this time was no different.

With a tug at your roots, you hum around him again. His body comes lurching forward, almost as if to stop himself from fucking your throat.

"Baby– M'close..." He finally utters, which brings you to toss your head up, releasing him from your mouth with a pop.

"Shhh, it's okay," you whisper, watching his cock fall thump against his stomach and twitch here and there, "You’ve been so good for me so far."

"I have?" He asks the question sweetly, genuinely. With a little twinkle in his eye.

"Oh, of course you have, my pretty baby…" you say, running the back of your hand down his belly, "Gonna keep it up for me, right?"

"Yes."

"Such a good boy."

Luke tosses his head back, his bottom lip held captive by his teeth, and lets out a whine the moment you start to get off of him. The fact that he was whining at the loss of your touch was enough to send you over the edge right then and there, but you wanted to keep your promise.

You hastily discard your pajama shorts, tossing them into the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Luke whimpers again upon seeing you naked— you didn’t bother to wear your panties tonight.

"You are so beautiful, Y/N… My pretty little flower—" Luke sighs, in awe of you, despite the lingering sexual tension in the air. He always made it a point to compliment you, no matter the scenario.

"Thank you, Lu," You can’t help but giggle and blush, making your way back to his lap to straddle him.

Again, his hands find your waist. He sucks in a deep breath, eyes wired shut.

After only doing this for a little while, you were already comfortable talking to Luke in a more dominant way. The trick was to not think about it too hard. Just let the words roll right off of your tongue.

Simple enough, right?

"Tell me what you want me to do to you, baby." Your words are soft like down pillows yet loud enough to get a rise out of him. He shifts beneath you, still closing his eyes.

"Fuck me… please? I’m achin’ for you."

You take his pleas as your sign to start, wet enough from merely the obscene sounds spilling from his lips. The condom you had grabbed was still at your side so, you rip the package open with your teeth.

When you start to roll the condom down over his length, he lets out a hiss. Could have been the temperature; or maybe he was just too desperate to be ashamed of his sounds.

"Shit—" He whines, clutching onto your hips as your hand pumps his cock a few times.

"Easy, baby," you purr, adjusting yourself upwards to line him up with your dripping slit, "You ready for me?"

"Mhm— yes… yes please, angel. Please— fuck me."

His throaty cries only furthered the butterflies floating around in the pit of your stomach. You could barely contain yourself as you hover over him, biting your lip as you sink down onto his cock.

The both of you let out a collective groan; the feeling of him filling you up completely just seemed too perfect.

You lower your body so that you completely engulf him, taking his length fully and making your breath hitch in your throat.

"Feels good, pretty baby?" You ask, still buzzing.

"Mmph—" He whines, anchoring his hands to your hips as you start to swivel.

"Need you to use your words, Lu… Tell me."

You’re gentle with him, at first. Treating him delicately, like picking off the petals off a daisy. He seemed so weak beneath you and something about it was making your head spin. Your heart was bursting at the seams.

"Yes, Y/N— Feels s’fuckin’ good—" Luke whimpers, digging his fingernails into you, and holding onto you with his entire soul fleshing through his fingertips.

His cock twitches inside of you, as you continue your rhythm of grinding hips. It’s easy for you to tell when to pick up speed, testing his limits by his face alone.

"Such a good boy, baby.. You’re doing so fuckin’ well."

You start to notice the familiar furrow of his brow, that concentrated little notch in his forehead.

He wanted to close his eyes, but he just couldn’t seem to look away

"Y/N, I—"

He says your name again. It’s syrupy, like honey dripping off of his tongue. You place your palm flat on his tummy, tossing your hair out of your eyes to match his gaze.

"Takin’ my pussy so well, aren’t you?" You ask him, but don’t expect an answer. His face of concentration was telling you all you needed to know. How hard he was working to please your demand.

"Mmm… Th-think’ m’doin’ a good job…" He nods slowly, and you smile.

"Oh baby, you are… Keep goin’, m’kay?"

He smiles with a hum, through heavy, bated breaths.

"M’kay."

The sweaty flurry of blonde curls and baby blue eyes was slowly starting to unravel. The rise and fall of his chest was rapidly picking up speed, before he started to snap his hips up into you.

A slapping sound engulfs the walls of his bedroom, but you have no reason to complain. His cock was stretching you out, hitting that sweet spot with every stroke.

"Fuck, Lu—" You can’t help but revert to your old ways; yet not completely giving in, and letting him hold the reins. He was still beneath you, practically melting as your bodies entwine.

And that, was an incredible feeling.

"Y/N—" he whines, broken by panting, "m’close."

You nod sloppily, your tits bouncing at the speed of your swiveling hips.

"Hold it, baby— still my good boy, right?"

"Yes, yes… I am, Y/N. M’ a fuckin— a fuckin’ mess for you…"

A catty smile sprawls across your cheeks, feeling your orgasm budding lowly in the pit of your stomach, and satisfied at the way you had him completely wrapped around your finger.

"Mhm, yes you are. Such a pretty mess..."

Your orgasm was on the brink now, ready to burst and run through your body. Sloppy sounds filled the air; panting, whining, groaning. It was all meshing in your ears like the tune of a fucking song.

You felt your face tinge pink upon seeing your boyfriend’s concentrated expression, feeling a tad bit sorry for being so demanding.

So, you finally decide to let go.

"Cum with me, baby—" You gasp.

"Wha—"

"Let it go, Lu. Been s— so good for me, fuck!"

And with that, stars and galaxies are fogging your vision. You let out a cry as you finish, your walls clenching tightly around Luke’s cock as he does the same. He gives one last quick snap of his hips before you’re collapsing completely, going limp on his chest with him still inside of you.

You could hear his heart thumping through his chest; your sweaty bodies practically letting sparks fly. His hand moves to rub your back, as you both collect your devices.

"Was I good enough, baby?" He asks sweetly, that soft voice from before coming into play and making your stomach flutter.

"More than enough."

He giggles; seeming a bit shy about the semantics of it all, before planting a kiss at the crown of your head.

You can see his eyelashes fanning against the apples of his cheeks, glistening in the light of your bedroom as he grins up to the ceiling.

"I’m glad," he beams, "And you were right, by the way."

You pop your head up from his chest to look him in the eye. "About what?"

"Should’ve told ya’ about this a lot sooner."

With a shake of your head, you tut at him teasingly, just happy to feel closer to him than you ever have before.

"Guess it’s not a secret anymore."

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

[frozenjokes]

I was thinking about warrior cats last night because of course I was but I was thinking about how starclan and the dark forest border each other and how dark forest cats can’t leave but starclan cats can enter but. even in the dark forest you can stare out on what life could have been. isn’t that the greatest hell?

anyway convex. reasonably they’re both going to hell but for the sake of peace and love and cat romance they’re not. Scar’s an Old dark forest cat he’s been there for AGES and he’s bitter and mean and Angry so what he does to pass the time is hang out by the border, befriend starclan cats and trick them into entering the dark forest where he can kill and eat them. yknow. normal cat stuff. There’s no damn prey in the dark forest right!!!!! Man’s gotta eat somehow!!!! (he was doing this before he died lol)

Cub is a former kittypet turned medicine cat apprentice that died young, adult aged, but not before he could receive his full medicine cat name. He doesn’t like being called Cubpaw though, so he goes by just the prefix in Starclan. Cub was specifically chosen to become a medicine cat because he has such an affinity for the stars and the sky, and the clan cats misspoke this soooo badly for him being like really religious. It’s not that. He just thinks it’s neat. He came to the forest on a rumor that the stars were brighter than in the city, and the clan cats were led to believe he was sent by Starclan as some kind of prophet (the autism REALLY confused them). Cub does not have the stature of a Windclan cat or the ability to hunt Windclan prey, but I imagine that’s where he ended up because of the high hills and clear skies. He probably died tragically, killed by a fox or dog, or maybe another clan cat who viewed him as a threat. Maybe he found something out that he shouldn’t have, and didn’t realize what he was seeing until it was over.

Regardless. He is not fussed. Being dead is fucking awesome!!!!! Look at the stars!!!!! His whole BODY is stars this is like BEST CASE SCENARIO!!!!!

The place of no stars, naturally, compels him. No stars? Not even one? I know this is cat hell, but seriously! He has to know. He has to know if it’s really true.

Scar finds Cub at the edge of the forest, trying to look in. There’s a small transition period of trees before Scar could really reach him, but it’s still a bit of a shock that Cub is not even trying to keep his distance. Usually Starclan cats are a lot more wary, even when they’re curious. Scar calls out from the dark, expecting this to change. Instead, Cub looks thrilled to see them. He has to ask! Are there really no stars?

Scars rolls his eyes. Who is this guy anyway? A young Starclan cat clearly, he’s way too bright to have been dead a long time. He tells Cub he better come find out for himself if he really wants to know. Cub is thrilled to have an invitation! epic! I can’t wait to see what cat hell looks like :3 Scar is so fucking baffled by this he doesn’t have the brains to attack when Cub just walks right past him. No stars here… weird! Scar just gaped at him as this idiot, bright as the sun, wanders into the dark forest signaling to everyone in a five mile radius hello! I’m here! Come kill me please :)

Then Scar blinks and he’s fucking gone. Abra kadabra. Poof. How did I lose the sun. What the fuck. (Cub climbed a tree. He’s looking for the stars. He gets stuck up a tree for multiple days and somehow no one finds him despite being a literal beacon of light)

he does scare the life out of scar in those next couple days when he falls out of a bough of leaves and nearly clobbers the both of them out of some of the tallest trees in the forest. hey! You’re that guy! help. I can not find the stars. They weren’t lying when they said there were no stars here. Also I can’t get down. No one ever taught me how to do that. How did you end up in hell? < icebreaker questions to lighten the mood

[honeyhotteoks]

hi,

i recently saw a tiktok about like fanfic. i’m not sure if you have seen the trend where it goes like “when x does something” vs. “when y does something” where x is okay and y is not.

basically it was about how reading fanfiction about characters is okay but when it is about like real people it is weird. and everyone in the comments was like “that’s so weird” and other comments that weren’t so nice. like some were dissing x reader inserts as well and i was baffled likeee…

i’ve read fanfiction for years and i have never seen so much discourse about it being wrong until kpop and i never understood it. i wanted to hear your thoughts on it as a fanfiction writer. (although i am one too, you’ve been writing for a lot longer than i have)

— 🪻 anon

oh great question and i’d absolutely love to answer it.

so for context i have been involved in fandom spaces since i was a kid, i was reading fanfiction probably as young as eight or nine (not necessarily smutty fic, ofc, but like my little fandom brain needed to know what fanficition.net had to say about spyro the dragon even before i understood what fandom or fan works were). for many, many years i read and wrote only fanfic based on already fictional works, and i genuinely thought rpf (real person fiction) was weird. i use to be one of those people that would have been in those comments saying it was weird like i had some kind of moral superiority about it.

i say all that so that everyone understands where i’m coming from when i answer this question, but just as a note up top…… this conversation has been around for YEARS. i think it’s gotten worse in recent years because we’re having a very strange moral backslide globally and conversations about sex and sexuality have gotten even more conservative and laden with shame. it’s no surprise to me we’re seeing it heavily in the kpop space that has a lot of young fans, passionate fans, and parasocially committed fans. but the tension between rpf and non-rpf has been around for a while for sure.

kpop fanfiction changed my mind about writing rpf, but that being said i still have some personal boundaries about rpf as a genre in general. kpop is an interesting fandom to be involved in for so many reasons, but one of the reasons that i think i started to break down some of those internalized reservations about rpf is because of how clearly manufactured the parasocial elements of kpop are. there’s no other fandom experience in the world (that i am aware of) where famous celebrities do not have romantic partners intentionally, actively treat fans like romantic partners, have apps to text those fans with a y/n feature, and do literal relationship fan service. the culture of kpop in general fosters this level of parasocial connection that as a writer, i perceive as almost a stage play. basically what i mean by that is that the nature of the industry pushes a romantic real-person storyline for fans to either self insert into or ship members, and not only do i think the industry is aware of fanfiction, i think it benefits from it.

when i write RPF about kpop boys….. i’m writing about their characters that we’re allowed to see. i know we speculate and we have fun etc., but at this point I consider ateez and yunho for me in particular more like writing muses to play around with romance novel scenarios. I could easily sub out yunho’s name in across stardust and swap it out of second person and have a totally agnostic novel about a girl and a celebrity.

that being said, rpf still sometimes makes me uncomfortable in other scenarios. i’m not saying that i’m right or wrong in this, but i just don’t feel as comfortable reading rpf of like…… idk tom holland and zendaya let’s say, where they are a cute public couple but the industries and the fan relationships are completely different. again, that’s purely a personal preference, but just an example of what feels good and doesn’t feel as good to me as a writer and reader. that is not at all to say those readers and writers and doing anything wrong, i don’t think they are and would defend them, but it’s where my personal preferences with rpf lie.

the other thing i’ll say is this….. a lot of people have a problem with rpf for a few big reasons, and i just want to dig into those below -

the real person didn’t consent to this - I understand that, but I think this is a bit of a flawed argument when it comes to fanfiction. While I do believe RPF should never, ever be shared with the person being written about because that to me crosses boundary lines, I think the consent conversation is faulty logic. Firstly, if a famous person (or any person) needed to consent to be fantasized about romantically, platonically, sexually, etc. we’re very quickly running into weird thought-crime territory and I have a distinct problem with this. People have fantasized about people forever, that’s how romance and sexuality works, and there’s truly nothing wrong with that. I mean that truly in all senses of the word too, I don’t care of people dream about marrying someone or getting railed by someone, it’s their internal thoughts and that’s not my business. The line cross comes when those fantasies get pushed into the famous person’s real life. I am not at all okay with sexually explicit signs at concerts, sending fanfic to idols, or pushing them to do more ‘shipping’ content. THAT is where the parasocial lines blur and to me that tells me the person engaging in that content is not mature enough to understand fiction vs. reality. Muddling that with the argument that famous people need to ‘consent’ to being sexualized or written about is an oversimplification and frankly, pretty puritanical. People crossing those lines, to me anyways, are proving that they do not see the idols as people, they see them as objects. Whereas a lot of writers and artists, myself included, see them as people presenting a character and I am happy to keep my delulu fun with those characters fully separate and divorced from any interactions i may ever have with them as a real people.

shipping is wrong! you can’t assume their sexuality! - I know I write m/f rpf mostly, but you’ve seen m/m pairings in my work and i also love to read a quality m/m fic from time to time. I don’t write shipping fic because it’s not really in my arsenal to do that, I prefer writing female POVs, but I have absolutely no problem with that as a genre. People do though, and often it’s coming from a deep place of internalized homophobia. What I would say to this is…. one, why are you assuming someone’s sexuality is straight as the default? Two, while some rpf shippers are “truthers” who take it a bit too far and think that idols are actually coupled up….. most of the time these are people just writing a gay relationship. In the same way that my fic could be swapped out into a romcom, so could theirs if you changed the names. It’s truly not that serious. If you’re the type of person who can’t separate the characters of woosan or matz from the actual people, I would argue again that this is a maturity problem, if not a more insidious morality problem rooted in homophobia.

shipping yourself with a famous person is gross and weird! you must be a crazy fan/sad loser! - Yeah, no. Once again, if you’re able to separate person and character, then all you’re doing is writing imaginary scenarios with a character. Self insert as a genre is more just the flexibility to write second person present tense to me rather than coming up with an entire rich character with a name every time - it lends itself to quick scenarios, flexible readership, and feels better than writing “I” all the time. While yeah, some fans take things too far as they always do, this is the exception and not the rule. As far as if that means we’re ‘crazy fans’ or ‘sad losers’…….. I think you’ll find the crazy fans are the ones acting without boundaries at barricade or at fansigns, not the quiet writers playing in lovely little scenarios. I’ve never once had a fancall with Yunho, and I’m not sure if I would even be comfortable doing so after writing him as a character after all this time. Comparing that to the rabid serial fancall problem where I see fans saying things like “you don’t understand, he knows me” ….. I think I’ll stick on the side of rpf fiction versus that line cross every time.

The last thing I’ll say is this……….. look around in fandoms, particularly those creating works in fandom spaces like art, fiction, etc. and you will find a sea of neurodivergent people. Anecdotally, you’ll also find so many people dealing with things like depression, anxiety, traumatic events or childhoods, etc. Of course that’s not a rule by any means, and this is entirely based on my personal experience in fandoms over the years, but what I think is important to emphasize here is that a lot of people who fall into those buckets explore their internal selves through character and through creative expression. I think it’s important as people to stop labeling people as “weird” when they are doing something different to you, and start leading with empathy and curiosity.

I could talk for hours about unpacking trauma through the romance genre, or exploring sexuality in safe spaces through shipping, or even just learning how to write using characters in existing spaces……. but that’s probably best for another post if people are interested. At the end of the day, my take on RPF is that it’s no different to other forms of fanfiction, especially within a space as parasocial and crafted as kpop. People are free to disagree with me, just as they are free to scroll and not engage with my content, but to me there’s nothing inherently ‘wrong’ or shameful about it. And in my experience, people who need to shame others for their preferences in fandom often have a lot of internal shame they’ve yet to unpack.