#it wasn't exactly perfect in every detail for how I would have written it if I was in charge but that's an incredibly minor quibble

[redshiftsinger]

He changed his behavior. That's pretty much it, but that's important.

Well, first he was just so incredibly, intensely pathetic that the whole crew felt sorry for him despite how much of an asshole he'd always been to them, and decided that no one, not even someone as petty, nasty, and horrid as Izzy deserves to spend the rest of their life forced to crawl around and believing that they can't rely on anyone for help no matter what. And good for them! Even the most horrible people in existence deserve access to basic human dignity, including solid functional prosthetics if they need prosthetics.

And then, after receiving kindness that everyone knows damn well he didn't "deserve" from the people he'd never shown a single scrap of kindness to himself, and having had lots of time to reckon with his own knowledge of what he did, he changes his behavior. Which is the more-important half of an apology than the words. Sure, the words matter! But anyone can say words and not actually do the work to behave differently.

Izzy spends the second half of the season actively and intentionally behaving differently, in ways that highlight that he understands that he was wrong in the past. I definitely think the show would have benefited from more time to give his arc room to breathe, but they fit the essentials of it in to let us infer. In his interaction with Wee John before the party, John is initially on the defensive, as if he expects Izzy to be nasty about his drag makeup. But instead Izzy listens to him, and shows genuine openness to the idea -- followed by, the next time we see Izzy, he's coming out on deck in drag makeup himself to perform a song. He's not saying the words "I was wrong, I'm sorry" but he is very directly putting himself in the same position that he once belittled when Ed was the one being sort and feminine and singing for the crew. He's doing the things that the Old Izzy would have been horribly cruel to someone for, and there's no hint of mockery or "this is ok for me but not for you" attitude in his demeanor.

He says "congratulations" to Ed about getting laid, instead of angrily ranting to himself over what he (thought he) overheard. He takes Stede's assumption that he's come to gloat about Ed leaving without flinching, like he knows exactly where it came from and how reasonable an assumption it is given his past behavior, and then defuses it with "I think you're good for him, it took me a while to see it but I do now". First, a calm refutation of the assumption, then an acknowledgement of it being reasonable and an admission of having been wrong.

None of this is a classic formulaic apology, but it has all the crucial core elements except that the expression of regret that's usually covered by the words "I'm sorry" doesn't get said outright until the very end, rather than at the beginning of the process.

Please, someone, anyone. I know Izzy had a redemption arc in season 2, but please explain to me what exactly he did to redeem himself. I love listening to podcasts and watching reaction videos of this show, so I'm not talking about the canyon here and how they believe he didn't even have to redeem himself to begin with.

More than once, I've heard complaints about Ed, saying he hasn't really redeemed himself, that he went way too far, that he has disappointed them and he should've apologized more... But then, they'll say that Izzy has become their fav in season 2 despite not liking him in season 1 because of his antagonistic actions. Ok? Apart from Ed, who exactly did Izzy apologize to then? Or is Izzy exempt from this? Izzy must've done something to redeem himself in their eyes to become their fav after not liking him, right? Or did they absolve him of everything because he shed a tear and was feeling bad? What did Izzy do that was enough to be redeemed (apart from the writers wanting him to have that arc), but Ed aparently didn't? He cried too, he was feeling really bad as well and Izzy himself had a hand in this. So surely it was something else? I keep trying to rearrange the pieces but it makes no sense? What am I missing?

Please, help me understand. I feel like I'm going crazy over this.

#49.

[syluslnd]

omg i love love love everything you’ve written! i cannot wait to read more! 🤭

can i please request … sylus finding out that mc/reader has a spine or lower back tattoo. i feel like he would go absolutely feral bc like he WOULD most definitely start imagining the view during backshots LOL

when he discovers your lower back tattoo

It was one of those quiet afternoons, just the two of you lounging around at home. You were rummaging through a drawer, your back to Sylus, completely oblivious to the way his gaze drifted over you. You bent down slightly, your shirt riding up just enough to reveal a glimpse of inked lines peeking from beneath the fabric, running down your spine.

He noticed instantly, his eyes sharpening as something shifted inside him. "Sweetie” he called, his voice smooth and a touch darker than usual.

You turned, barely getting the chance to respond before Sylus closed the distance between you in a few swift strides. Before you knew it, he had pinned you gently, guiding you to lie on the plush surface beneath you. Your stomach pressed against the cushions and his strong hands held your wrists above your head, keeping you in place.

"S-Sylus?" you stammered, feeling your cheeks heat up as you sensed the change in his gaze.

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he let his fingers trail to the edge of your shirt, lifting it slowly, carefully, until the full length of your spine tattoo was on display. His breath hitched slightly and you felt his gaze burning into your skin, like he was absorbing every detail, every line, of the intricate design that ran down your back.

"I had no idea” he murmured, a smirk curving his lips. "Hiding this from me, were you, kitten?"

You tried to twist to look at him, your cheeks bright red, but his grip on your wrists held firm. "I-I wasn't hiding it. You just... never saw it before” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He chuckled, low and rich, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers brushed over the tattoo, feather-light as he traced the lines, his touch leaving your skin tingling. "It suits you" he said softly, almost as if to himself. "So beautiful."

You felt a rush of warmth spread through you, your blush deepening as you sensed the intensity in his gaze, his voice full of admiration but also laced with something deeper. His hand slid down slowly, resting on the side of your waist as he leaned in, his lips grazing the back of your neck.

"Imagine how gorgeous you'd look from behind” he murmured, his voice a whisper that left your pulse racing. "With this perfect view of your back... and that beautiful tattoo all for me to admire."

You let out a shaky breath, unable to contain the way your skin prickled under his touch.

"Sylus..."

He smirked against your skin, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. "What's wrong, kitten?" he teased, his voice soft but filled with a mischievous edge. "A little shy now, are we?"

You bit your lip, trying to hide your blush but there was no escaping the way he looked at you, like he was savoring every reaction, every soft breath you took. Finally, he released your wrists, letting his hands settle on your shoulders, his fingers gentle as he continued to study the tattoo.

"Next time” he whispered, his tone laced with promise, "you'll have to show it off for me properly. I want to appreciate every inch of it."

His words left you feeling breathless and he chuckled softly as he pulled back, letting you finally sit up, his smirk making it clear that he knew exactly how flustered he'd made you.

And from the look in his eyes, you had a feeling he'd be bringing it up again soon.

[worldsover]

Will we ever get a sequel for Heejin's birthday fic? Just asking btw

Sorry. I am allergic to completing tasks to 100%. For example, as I mentioned in its author notes, there was never even meant to be a sequel since this was supposed to be one story, but instead I posted the incomplete version because the alternative was no story for her birthday. That being said, I do at least have a bit more written, so the same thing applies here: it's unfinished, but at least it's something?

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Heejin Birthday Fic cont.

~2.5k words, incomplete draft of the continuation to Transcendence/Pareidolia ft. Heejin

This wasn't fun. Well, it's a little fun. All the games the two of you play.

The best/worst part are all the videos she sends. She starts with the typical: eating an ice cream cone, having cream drip on her fingers; covering herself with oil and rubbing it over her entire body; holding a vibrator to her clit, waiting for your text about what position you want her in; showing her sopping pussy from various angles, and you can tell exactly which angle she sent you and why.

And then her videos get dirtier. There's Heejin on a vertical video, sitting on her bed, dildo deep inside her pussy, just talking. She talks about how she imagines your cock sliding in and out of her pussy, ramming her g-spot and fucking her senseless, while your fingers rub her clit and your mouth suck her tits. You would fill her up with your cum, dripping out of her pussy, down her legs. Then she would get the taste of your cock as she cleans it with her mouth, and how the cum mixing with her juices would taste even better as she slurps it all up. Heejin has a gift for describing things with vivid detail. You never realized just how eloquent her tongue could be. You can't wait until it's on yours again.

There are the times you meet and end up making out and nearly fucking, but you manage to stop. You keep each other on the brink. Sometimes you want to rip each other's clothes off and ravage the other right then and there, and your hearts would race at the thought of all the consequences and dangers involved with doing it outside. But you had to be patient; you were the one who suggested waiting, after all.

But the weeks pass, and you grow restless. You can't wait to claim Heejin as yours, in the most intimate way possible.

And finally, October 19 arrives.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

The restaurant is a small, cozy establishment, with warm lighting and ambient music. You and Heejin are dressed in semi-formal attire, and you admire how beautiful she looks in her black dress, with a slit up the thigh that shows off her perfect legs. You're both a little giddy with anticipation. You feel like it's Christmas, ready to open the ultimate present, even if she's the birthday girl here.

As you sit at the table, Heejin's phone lights up with birthday messages from her friends, and you can't help but wonder what they would think if they knew about you two.

"Wow, you're popular."

She giggles. "I know, it's silly. But, it's kinda sweet."

You take a sip of water. "You know, Heejin, it's been fun, these last couple of weeks, edging. I've never gone this long."

Heejin scoffs. "You're one to talk. It's been hell for me."

"I believe you."

You start to eat your food. The flavors are rich and savory, and the portions are generous. The two of you chat about the usual stuff, like work and your family and the newest set of anime coming out, but no matter how you try, you can't resist being glued to her every touch. Her finger absentmindedly twirls around a strand of hair. Her thighs shift in her seat. A napkin wipes the side of her mouth. The candlelight, and the warmth of the establishment makes her glow, and you're hopelessly under her spell.

Of course, her heel brushing against your inner thigh doesn't help.

"You seem tense," she says.

"Great observation."

"You know, for some reason, I don't feel that full, even after all I ate."

"You wanna go to another restaurant or something?"

Heejin rolls her eyes. "That's not what I'm hungry for."

Your mouth rounds to a circle.

She rubs her heel on your pants. "What?"

You throw the napkin on the table and stand up. "Excuse me, I have to use the restroom."

Heejin bites her lip as you walk away. You enter the bathroom. It's its own individual room, fancy and well-kept. You walk up to the sink and splash cold water on your face, sighing.

You use the toilet. Then, you use your phone to find the nearest hotel and its nearest vacancy. Can't even wait to bring her home. You text her your plan for the night.

Seems even that is too much waiting. A knock. She texts you back.

> open the door.

You gulp. You do, and Heejin steps in, her breathing erratic, her smile mischievous. She pulls you by your tie for a kiss, shoving you against the door. Your tongue and hers are tangling, and you reach for her breast. Your knee is lifting her skirt, and she's grinding against it.

"Heejin," you say, "we gotta, we gotta go somewhere else."

"I can kneel here." And she does just that. "We can make this quick."

She unbuckles your pants and frees your cock, your limp-cock instantly hard in the warmth of her mouth, instantly in the back of her throat.

"Heejin, no, wait, we were saving..."

Pop. "Oh, what, like you don't wanna blow your load down my throat and cum all over my tits and face?"

She's pumping, her fingers slick and tight around your shaft, your cockhead rubbing against her face. She sucks on your balls.

"I bet you'd absolutely ruin this fucking dress with your load."

In the next five minutes, Heejin proceeds to slather your cock in her spit while sucking you down with best blowjob you've ever received. Her lips and tongue are tight, and the heat of her mouth and the vacuum of her suction feels so divine around your cock. And her moans, oh, fuck, how you missed her moans around your shaft. The vibrations tickle your skin and your nerves. You're thankful for the door and the weight of your body preventing the two of you from collapsing, because the pleasure is making your knees weak. And if that wasn't enough, Heejin is relentless in her dirty talk and her sucking.

"God, your cock is fucking amazing. I wanna drink your cum forever. I wish you could shoot your cum deep in my pussy, fill me up. I can't wait to get your cock in my cunt."

She bobs faster, deeper, sucking more intensely. You're about to burst. She knows. Heejin reaches between your legs and squeezes your balls.

Then, she pulls back. Pop. "So, where's the hotel?"

✦✧✦✧✦✧

You pay for your meals, and then you're on the way to the hotel. It's a short taxi ride away, and the two of you keep your hands to yourself.

Once you're in the elevator, you hold Heejin's waist, and she faces you, giggling.

"What?" you ask.

"Nothing," she says. "Just… happy."

You lean down to kiss her. "Have I told you enough that you're the prettiest girl on the planet?"

"A couple times." She kisses back. "I don't mind you telling me more."

You brush strands of hair away from her face. She puts her hands on your face. Your hand slides up her waist to cup her cheek. She runs her thumb across your bottom lip.

Ding. The elevator doors open, and you step into the hallway. Your room is a few steps down, and you unlock the door.

It's a basic suite, and you don't waste time, dropping your stuff, locking the door, and moving to the bed, pushing Heejin down and kneeling to her height.

She giggles. "Gotta catch up, huh?"

You slide her shoes off her feet, then your own. Then, you slip your hands under her dress and hook a finger on her panties, moving them down her legs. All the while, she takes off your suit jacket and undoes your belt. You move Heejin's panties completely off her ankles. They're soaked. She lies down on the bed.

Your cock is throbbing, but you can't stop staring at the view.

She blushes. "N-no, no more edging. Please. I need to cum, so, so fucking bad. I need you in me, right fucking now."

You swallow. "Don't worry. I'll be inside you soon enough. Just, lemme get a good look of your body first."

Heejin smiles. "My body, huh? What, what's so special about it?"

"Everything."

You're on top of Heejin now, caressing her face.

"Everything," you repeat. You lower your head. "Especially your eyes." You lower your head again. "And your lips." You kiss them. "And your neck." You kiss. She moans. You continue kissing downwards, licking along her collarbone, nibbling on the side of her throat, biting her shoulder. Then you lick the valley between her breasts, pull down the neckline of her dress, and lick circles on her nipples. You hike up the hem of dres to reach a hand to her pussy. "And, this." You rub her lips.

She moans. "What… about that?"

You crawl lower, your face between her legs. You spread her lips, already wet, and you stick your tongue inside her hole. "The prettiest pussy I've ever seen." You lick up her slit.

Heejin grabs your hair and pulls you. "I'm sorry, but I can't wait anymore. Fuck me."

You wipe your mouth. "Yeah, yeah, sorry."

"Just… put it in me already."

You get on your knees and rub your cockhead against Heejin's lips, smearing pre-cum. You rub it around her clit, and she shudders, whimpering.

Heejin pushes on your chest. "Wait, hold on, sit up. I wanna watch. Please. Your cock… entering me. I can't wait to see it."

You nod. Heejin sits up too. You grab Heejin's thighs and spread them. Your cockhead rubs against Heejin's entrance again.

"Holy shit, holy shit," she says.

You lick your lips. You push your cock into Heejin's hole, and your head is swimming in her heat, her wetness. Her pussy is already sucking you in, and Heejin is already moaning, and her whole body is already trembling.

"Shit, Heejin, you're already going to cum?"

She nods. "Yes! I'm sorry, it's just, you're finally, finally inside me. I've dreamed about this, so many times, and now it's happening."

"Me too. It's fine, it's fine." You pull back, and then you thrust again, a bit deeper, and Heejin shudders again. "Holy shit."

You pump slowly, Heejin moaning louder and louder, her pussy squeezing you tighter and tighter. Your grip on her thighs is tight, and you push her down, burying your cock deeper. Her back arches, and you start thrusting faster. You grunt. Heejin's pussy is milking your cock, sucking you deeper, and you're pounding her cunt, her moans and your grunts filling the room, until she lets out a scream, a high-pitched, satisfied noise, and her walls are convulsing. And just as you said, you empty your load deep inside her, rope after rope, a thick batch of semen pooling in her hole and leaking past your shaft.

"Holy… shit," she says. Heejin's trying to catch her breath. She looks up at you, a slight smirk on her face. "You're still hard, right?"

You look down. You're still hard.

Even though her legs writhe and her toes curl, she fucks herself into your shaft, covering it in more and more cream.

"Fucking, hell, Heejin, just like that?" You clench your jaw.

"Yeah. Yeah, we just started. I love watching you pump your cock in and out of my pussy, seeing it get all sloppy."

You chuckle. "Slut."

"For you." She wraps her legs around your waist, her arms around your back. "Wreck me."

You can do nothing but comply. Heejin's eyes roll back, her lips tremble, and her nails dig into your back, and you fuck her, you fuck Heejin, hard. Using your own creampie as lube, your cock plunges and slams inside Heejin's pussy, over and over. You pick her up from the bed and pound into her as you carry her around the room, making loud wet slaps fill the air. Then, you set her down on the desk, gripping her shoulders, and the room shakes with your thrusts.

Heejin screams and babbles. You're about to cum again already, and so is she. You love her expression, like she's completely drunk to your cock as she loses herself to the pleasure of it stuffing her, pushing your first creampie out just to fill her up again. You're sure she can feel your heartbeat from how far your cock is in her womb. You slow down, then you pull out. Heejin's pussy is drooling cum, and she lies flat on the desk. Your head is so light that you only just now realize you're still cumming, so you jack off onto her body, mainly covering her dress in cum, though some of it reaches her chin. Heejin promptly licks that clean.

"Why," she says. "Why'd you stop? You're, you're still hard. Please."

"Turn around. Get on your hands and knees."

She obeys. "Yes, sir," she says, and you like the way she says that.

You grab Heejin's waist, and then you slam into her pussy. Your pace is just as brutal as when you started the night. Turns out that edging for weeks, then cumming inside a woman's tight pussy, then pulling out and painting her in your cum is more than enough to keep your cock rock hard, and Heejin is more than eager to have your cock pounding her hole as many times as you want.

After the fourth round, your fifth climax, Heejin is a mess on the bed, and so is your cock. It's covered in her cum and your cum and some of her saliva, and her tongue is lazily circling your cockhead while she rests her head on your thighs.

"Do you, do you want to keep going?"

Heejin nods. "Why? Are you tired?"

"I mean, I'm pretty sure I have another few in me. But my abs are killing me."

"Oh yeah? You should try doing planks."

"The way you do them? Yeah, ri—" You're interrupted when Heejin climbs up your body and grabs your cock. You flinch. "No, wait, wait, wait. Wait, Heejin."

"Are you afraid?"

You gulp. "Very."

"I promise it won't hurt. It'll be fun."

When Heejin says it, you believe her. "Fine. Go for it."

Heejin grins. "Awesome." As she positions herself over your shaft, the creampie you filled her with starts to leak onto your stomach, and she holds your cock to point it up towards her hole. She lowers her pussy, and your cock enters her again. She rides you, holding your cock by the base so that the entire time, you feel the entirety of her tunnel envelop you, and your cum is squishing all over her insides.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

If I do get around to finishing the story, I will probably delete this and the initial version of Transcendence, post the full version instead. Big if.

[akuma-tenshi]

finished closing night!! boy do i have some thoughts. and now that i've gathered them, i'm about to make my autism your problem. spoilers below.

the first part of the event wasn't awful imo, it felt like character building and just helping establish the dynamic. i know some people weren't fond of it but given that i was never really that invested in hullabaloo before this and didn't know every little detail of these characters, it was nice to get some character establishment and figure out how they all are as people. i am also a fan of slowburn character-focused horror, so that may just be a personal taste thing lmao

bryce papenbrook does a good job as mike, even though there are definitely points where he sounds exactly like nagito (namely the scene where he's shouting at margaretha in the foyer). he has a very particular way of speaking / voicing characters that make it immediately clear it's him. however, i do think he fits mike well and he definitely lays off the nagito-ness in the second part.

the rest of the cast was excellent as well. while there was a Choice made with murro's voice (he sounds WAY younger than he's supposed to be, which is off-putting and takes me out every time he speaks), it's very clear everyone knows their characters well and they all do a good job keeping their mannerisms and vocalisations unique and fitting to each role. aside from some awkward lines (which i attribute more to stilted writing than to the va's themselves), the voice acting is absolutely a highlight.

margaretha's trauma with sergi is portrayed very well imo. bear in mind i have not suffered the same abuse as her, so i can't say how accurate or good it is, but it feels like it displays that it was a terrible thing while also being respectful and avoiding being exploitative. the added layer that everyone else (except joker) liked sergi and was unaware of the abuse adds a lot.

in general, i think mike and margaretha are incredibly well-written here. i think ne could've absolutely gone the route of popular fan interpretations and completely demonised margaretha while making mike a perfect angel, and they would've gotten a lot of praise for it. but they stuck to their guns and made them both very flawed yet understandable people, and that just makes everything feel that much more real, at least to me. they're such different people with opposing goals, and their friction really comes through. everyone else is very well done (shoutout to me a couple of hours ago calling joker cute for some godforsaken reason i can't remember) and i love all of their characterisations, but mike and margie really are the standouts here.

i do wish there was a bigger payoff for margaretha using euphoria so frequently. i know it's implied to have been involved in violetta's death, and i appreciate the connection to game 5, but i wish there was a little bit more there. it's not a huge gripe though, so i won't harp on it for long.

the pacing at the start of the second part had me extremely worried; things felt like they were dragging along and being padded out for the sake of being padded out, and i was not having fun with it. fortunately, this issue was remedied about halfway through, and once things got going, i started really enjoying myself. the pacing of the first half of part two is my biggest gripe with this story.

i was noticing a lot of similarities between hullabaloo and fool's gold: hunter forms of popular survivors being announced and used as a major part of marketing for an update to the idv story. with the aforementioned pacing issues, i was really worried that hullabaloo's reveal would shape up to be similar to fg's: a kinda cool cutscene and a lame chase sequence at the very end of a long, boring storyline. however, despite hullabaloo having a much smaller part in this story than fg did in aom, appearing only briefly in the fire at the very end, i still think it's a better incorporation of the character than what they did with norton. better to have it be quick and intimidating than just kinda tedious.

every death in this (aside from joker's) felt very purposeful and well-done. violetta's death was heartbreaking. the change in animation towards the end, followed by the single sound of her machinery giving out after the screen went black, was beautiful, and hey, at least she died happy. margaretha's death pulled at a very specific and very major love i have in storytelling, that being a character choosing to die free rather than live in captivity, and the payoff of all the underwater scenes where she swims towards sergi finally coming through when she chooses to sink away from him had me losing my mind. i genuinely did not expect mike's death to be a straight-up suicide; like i said, i'm not completely caught up on hullabaloo lore, so maybe other people saw this coming, but the fact that he truly could not live with the truth about hullabaloo is such a heartwrenching yet satisfying end to his character. like i said, joker's is the only death that doesn't totally stand out, but i like that they let you put the pieces together yourself.

the chase sequence with joker was unintimidating and a little lame, and honestly it felt somewhat forced, just a way to get his hunter form in there bc they realised "oh shit right this guy's like. a hunter isn't he." i do like that they gave him back his chainsaw though; very nice little callback to the betas.

the animation of the hullabaloo fire was absolutely gorgeous and the ending had me in shambles. for a while afterwards i felt similar to how i felt after finishing end roll: drained and flat but in a good way, like a ton of adrenaline had just released from my body after some intense event.

all in all, i really enjoyed it. i can't say if i like it more than aom, but that may be the frederick bias coming through, so i'm going to choose not to rank them and just say hey. banger event. well worth the hype even with its hiccups and flaws. i always say this, but idv has some genuinely talented people in its writers' room, and i can't wait to see what they come out with next.

[lemotmo]

So I’ve been reading what you and others have said about Eddie saying he’s straight. And then the Ryan interviews with the brother and hetero and gf etc etc. and how it’s a misdirect and can’t spoil.

And I get that. That makes sense

But I guess I’m still confused because like the GA?

Fandom doesn’t need to be convinced of queer Eddie and buddie. We’re all for it. We look into these details and subtext etc.

But I thought the whole thing was getting the GA who doesn’t do those things primed and ready for it.

And I don’t see how them watching the episode with Eddie flat out declaring he’s straight. Followed up by interview after interview immediately after with Ryan also saying Eddie’s straight. He’s hetero. Bucks his brother. Maybe find a new girlfriend for Eddie eventually etc does that?

If anything they are the ones who are going to take all of that at face value. Ok the character stated his sexuality as straight. Ok the actor confirmed the characters sexuality is straight. And that just seems to be…the complete opposite of what they should be doing to the GA if they are heading for buddie?

And I’m sure some of the Ga will read between the lines sure. But for months it’s been soft launch hard launch get the GA ready and used to the idea. And this just seems like a course correct the other way which at best will just cause them all kinda of confusion and at worst make them go oh ok he’s straight guess nothing there after all.

Idk if any of that made sense 😅

It made perfect sense Nonny! 😋 I get it!

Thing is, these interviews aren't really written for the GA. The GA won't read a dozen different interviews from the same actors and the showrunner of a show they casually watch on a Thursday night. They don't follow the actors on social media and go nuts over every single scrap of bts we get. Some of them don't even have a clue who the actors are. They just know them as Buck and Eddie.

They tune in to 911 on Thursday, watch the show and move on to Doctor Odyssey (or something else if they don't like throuples 😉). They don't go out of their way to post about the show on social media and look up all the different online articles like we do.

These articles are written to engage the fandom. These websites know that they'll get lots of views from fandom people.

The GA only watches the show and they get their clues there. The GA aren't idiots. They have seen other shows with slow burns and they will pick up on some of the subtle clues. Some of them might have already been wondering if Eddie would turn out to be queer before episode 6, picking up on little clues.

Then episode 6 happened and it wasn't exactly subtle about where this story is going. Yes, Eddie did declare himself to be straight, but I'm sure that quite a few people were wondering why he said that. There was no need for him to declare his sexuality as the default is seen as 'everyone is straight' until proven otherwise (which is so dumb by the way, but whatever).

But I'm certain a lot of people have picked up on some of the obvious clues in that episode. That last scene was very LOUD as well. So a lot of people will start wondering if they'll have Buck and Eddie end up together, even the people who might never have thought of this before.

The show is slowly building up the story around buck and Eddie. There will be more clues in future episodes. More things to pick up on. It'll start really small, but it will build up more and more until it will be clear for everyone to see.

That's how you build up a good slow burn relationship.

Now, I'm sure there will always be people of the GA that don't pick up on anything and take anything at face value and I'm sure they might be surprised by queer Eddie. It happens. It's unavoidable.🤷‍♀️

[onyourowndaisymae]

hiii could i request a fic/headcannon thingy with the OM brothers and the dateables trying to impress the mc's older sibling? tysm have a great day :))))))

obey me characters meeting and trying to impress your older sibling

hi anon! i hope this request is what you were looking for! i tried to keep it in character for who would actually try to impress your sibling vs. who would just roll with the punches and see what happens. i hope you enjoy!

prompt: you're hanging out alone one night with your partner. a knot twists in your gut. you know he can tell something is wrong, but it seems he's waiting for you to say something first. eventually, you crack, sitting him down in preparation for what you've got to say. he watches you nervously twist your fingers together for a moment before finally speaking your mind.

"do you think you could... meet my older sibling?"

you fill him in on all the details, explaining how your sibling has grown more and more insistent the longer you've been together. he laughs and asks why you were so nervous. well, you see, your sibling isn't exactly the most friendly with anyone you've dated in the past, and you're a little nervous they might, y'know... hate your boyfriend?

Lucifer

interesting.

well, it's not like he's going to worry about it. lucifer has been alive for millennia, met more people than he can count. he is absolutely certain that your sibling will like him. he'll be on his best behavior, bring a gift for good measure, show them just how committed you are to each other. it'll be easy.

at least, that's what he tells himself to stop the incoming stress migraine.

this proud demon needs your older sibling to like him. it's not like they have any say in the relationship, sure, but what if their opinion sways yours? what if your sibling disapproves of him, and you yourself slowly start to grow tired the flaws your sibling finds in him?

he swings from cocky to stress-addled every day until he finally meets your sibling. behind his stoic face, his nerves are starting to get the better of them-- mammon catches him before you both depart and gives him a quiet pep talk to soothe his anxieties. somehow, it works.

but lucifer didn't need any help either way. at the end of the day, the morningstar is a perfect gentleman. he's amazing with your sibling-- attentive, polite, even a bit funny when the mood strikes-- and by the end of the night, your sibling praises your choice in partner. there's a massive weight gone from both of your shoulders as you return to the devildom hand-in-hand.

... not that he was nervous or anything in the first place.

Mammon

he's the great mammon! of course they'll like him! no, his hands aren't shaking, he's just... cold! yeah! it's freezing over here! look over there-- he's totally not distracting you from that terrified look on his face, because the great mammon is not scared of anything!

lies. he's terrified.

he knows that he's a scumbag. as much as he denies it when his brothers toss around insults, he knows there's a long list of flaws written for him and him alone. you, in your infinite kindness and love, might have grown to overlook them. but your sibling? nah, he couldn't sell himself twice. your sibling is going to see right through him.

but the great mammon is not going to give up without trying, hell no! cue an absurd training montage as mammon tries to prepare himself for this meeting. he won't let you see what he's doing-- shoo! shoo! you'll throw him off! you're gonna be so impressed, babe, you'll swoon when you see how cool he is!

the loud music and louder crashing noises coming from behind his locked door do not make you feel any better.

mammon's saving grace is this strange charisma he has. it's what got you interested in him from the beginning, despite his bad attitude and mixed signals. it's honestly what's kept him alive thus far-- if he wasn't charming in his odd, mammon-ish sort of way, there's no way lucifer wouldn't have chopped him up and sold his bones to make furniture by now.

he spends the night trying to impress your sibling in grand, over-the-top ways. this, in and of itself, is charming. it's like watching an enthusiastic puppy wipe out on the hardwood and get up to try again over and over, never once losing the childish optimism behind its big, dumb eyes. at least, that's how your sibling described it.

they ultimately develop a pitying fondness of mammon. he's trying so hard that you can't help but find it endearing, y'know?

Leviathan

this man is scared. shitless.

levi tries to get out of it, then gets mad at himself for being a bad partner, then spirals and thinks they won't like him anyways, then worries that you're going to break up with him because his sibling will hate you and think you're too good for him-- he agrees, but still, he can't bear to see you go--

you're going to have to talk him off the ledge of an impending panic attack at this point. remind him that regardless of what your sibling thinks, you love him. it calms him just enough to get through the rest of the conversation.

honestly, it would be wise of you to wait until closer to the meeting to invite levi, because every single day since your conversation is a unique form of emotional hell for him. he's grieving a relationship that hasn't even ended yet-- he's just certain he's going to screw things up with your sibling.

lucifer has to step in at some point and have a talk with him to make sure he doesn't, y'know... explode into a million pieces in the hallway at RAD or something. he gives him some advice on how to make a good first impression and sends him on his way. that poor guy is so anxious that it's starting to wear off on other members of the house.

when the day finally comes, levi makes absolutely certain that he is as presentable as possible. freshly showered, surprisingly well-dressed (well, by levi standards), and ready to get this over with.

he's... stiff at first, no doubt. he's honestly starting to give your sibling the wrong impression...

somehow, some way, an interest of levi's comes up. maybe it's an anime he likes, or some obscure sea creature he knows a lot about, or something else entirely. but a switch flips in him. leviathan lights up the room as he passionately rambles about whatever interest of his is the current topic.

your sibling, with their initial negative impression of him, ultimately approves after he stops being so damn awkward. it's not like they bite, y'know?

Satan

satan takes your worries in stride and assures you that everything will work out in the end. he feels an unfamiliar hum of what must be anxiety in his chest, but he puts it aside to keep the conversation going.

he addresses a lot of his anxieties with logic. he is smart, well-spoken, attractive... there shouldn't be much about him that puts your family off. yet why does he still feel on edge?

poor thing has yet to learn that many emotions, like love and anxiety, are at times completely and utterly irrational.

he goes to his safe space-- books-- for help. he revisits his favorite "meeting the family" moments in his library and uses those for inspiration. these scenes in the books are never awkward. the protagonist is always suave and perfect, walking through every social situation with practiced grace. that's the energy he aims to channel into meeting your sibling for the first time.

he does his best primping to make sure he feel confident enough to make it through the night. there's a good chance he'll have to shoo asmodeus away, who just adores watching his older brother get all dressed up for a date! satan's just a little embarrassed by the amount of effort he puts in. he's trying to seem effortlessly charming, y'know? anyone knowing just how much work he put in really ruins the effect.

he relaxes a bit when you're by his side. it's a good reminder what this evening is really all about-- you, being proud enough of him as your partner to introduce you to your family. regardless of how things go, you're the most important part of this whole thing.

what can i say, he's charming! satan's very well-spoken and down to earth. your sibling likes him a lot, commenting that you and (the fake name you gave satan, since, y'know, his name is satan) your partner seem like a wonderful pair. he has to agree himself, too.

there's a chance that you might hear them doting over you if you exit the room-- nothing brings people together quite like the things they love.

Asmodeus

asmodeus laughs in the face of this challenge. ha! ha ha! silly you, don't you remember how charming he is? no need to worry, mc. he'll win them over in no time.

asmo needs everyone to like him so much, all the time. this is especially true for your older sibling. clearly they mean a lot to you, otherwise you wouldn't be so nervous about this upcoming dinner. he can't imagine a world where he doesn't win your sibling's heart by the end of the night.

he's genuinely not worried about it in the slightest... until someone makes an unassuming little jab at him. he's telling everyone about the dinner he's so looking forward to, boasting about how he'll have your sibling wrapped around his finger by the end of the night for sure.

maybe it's mammon tossing in a snarky "let's hope they don't find you obnoxious", or satan mumbling a "oh yes, because charming a family member to make them like you is totally boyfriend material", or even levi mumbling something about how people don't usually find narcissism very likeable. regardless of who makes the comment or what it actually is, it cuts deep.

now. we know asmo. under that thick, thick layer of narcissism is someone who is deeply vulnerable, scared, and terrified of rejection. doubt starts to creep in. is asmodeus himself all charm, no substance? do people not actually like him? are all of his accomplishments a product of manipulation?

he decides one night, in a quiet, tear-stained panic, that he will not charm your sibling. he will show them the most genuine version of himself he can muster and hope that it's enough for them-- that it's enough for you.

even without his powers, asmodeus passes your sibling's test with flying colors. he genuinely just likes being around people, and they like him too-- even when he's not using his powers, he still has this magnetic charm that makes you fond of him. this is especially true when he's not putting up airs or going the extra mile to make everyone swoon over him like usual.

there's a massive weight lifted off his shoulders as your sibling bids you both farewell and asks to do this sort of thing again sometime soon. that's approval, baby!

when the evening is over, you best believe he is absolutely going home to rub his success in his brothers' faces. serves them right for making him worry!

Beelzebub

immediately very nervous about the food situation. in the devildom, he can eat whatever he wants. but on earth?? he can't!! what if he gets you kicked out of somewhere, or his stomach starts growling, or, or--

you have to reassure him that you've got a backup plan in case of emergency, and that you'll make sure he doesn't starve. after all, you don't have the funds to clean up a mess like that on earth. only with your reassurance can he focus on what the meeting actually entails.

family is everything to beelzebub. he's honestly really happy that you love him enough to introduce him to yours. so rest assured that he will do everything in his power to ensure he makes a good first impression.

he spends a lot of time at the gym to work off his nervous energy. this teddy bear just really loves you so much and wants the night to go just how you want it that sometimes it makes his hands shake a little.

there's a good chance that he goes to belphegor to ask for advice. belphegor is famously unhelpful with these kinds of things, but he does pass along a good nugget of wisdom from underneath a thick blanket-- "they love you already, right? just show their sibling why. be yourself or whatever that corny ass saying says."

the execution could use some work, but at the end of the day the sentiment still stands. be yourself, beel, because you're a sweetheart!

and a sweetheart he is the entire meeting. bonus points if your older sibling has a dog or children-- he's fantastic with those. kids love to climb all over him like a jungle gym. a little foot to the stomach or side doesn't phase him one bit.

he's also just very kind and thankful to your sibling for making the time to meet him, as well as thanks them for taking care of you growing up. he's just really happy things turned out this way. of all the millions of different timelines that could have happened, he's glad he's in this one, with you, watching the sun set and enjoying an evening with those you love the most.

Belphegor

belphegor, in all honesty, doesn't really care what your sibling thinks. what're they going to do, march down to the devildom and split you up? demand you break up like a controlling parent? he doesn't have the energy to worry about such inane bullshit.

like a lot of things with belphie, he finds himself caring explicitly because you care.

you want your sibling to like him? fine. he can't promise prince charming or anything, but he'll give it a try for you.

he doesn't really do a whole lot of mental prep. he's lucky in that way-- less strung out and anxious about things he can't control than some of his other brothers. he does, however, physically prepare more than any of the others.

by that, i mean he practically hibernates a few days before meeting your sibling. he knows one of his biggest flaws is how often he sleeps, so he's hoping he can get enough sleep to fend it off for one day.

one major advantage belphegor has is his sense of humor. this man is funny. his jokes are dry and snarky, easy to miss at times; if your sibling has a sarcastic sense of humor, they think he's hilarious. if, for some reason, his jokes don't land, he'll tone them down for the night. you'll get to hear all of them on the way home, though.

the evening ends as belphie's energy truly runs out. he leans into your shoulder and fights hard against his dropping eyelids. if your sibling asks, he mumbles something about being anemic and tries to force himself to wake up. this is your cue to wrap the night up.

your sibling walks away with the impression that belphegor is a bit of a shithead (correct). whether or not they say this with affection is another thing entirely. regardless, though, he's a shithead that loves you and makes you happy, so really, what more can they ask for?

Diavolo

there are two concurrent thoughts happening when you share this information with him.

one part of him is already sure that your sibling will approve of him without a doubt. he's royalty, after all-- he's got amazing manners, he's well-spoken, and very respectful of anyone he meets. these are some of the most essential qualities to making a future king.

the other part of him is very invested in your sibling liking him for one main reason: diavolo absolutely intends to be your family one day and he wants to establish a good relationship with his in-laws from the jump.

he doesn't spend nearly as much time preparing for anything as he does dreaming about how the meeting will go between stacks of the most boring paperwork in all of the three realms. this man craves domesticity because it was so limited as he grew up in the castle. he wants dinner with in-laws, visiting your aging grandparents, waking up early to attend your niece or nephew's soccer games. he's selfish in that way and he knows it. he wants everything with you.

unfortunately for him, diavolo cannot change certain things about himself to blend in better in the human world. most notably, he's massive. it's certainly a bit off-putting to even the most open minded people when you walk in hand-in-hand with goliath. hopefully your sibling doesn't comment on it.

but diavolo's booming laugh and high-beam grin are sure to enchant the most stubborn of older siblings. there's a certain electricity in watching him let his hair down, abandoning the weight of the "future king" title and spending the evening not as a ruler but your partner. he's effortlessly fun and charming. you find yourself enchanted with him again by the end of the night. he's really incredible, huh?

diavolo is already asking to do this again soon as you guys say your goodbyes. with those hopeful eyes staring at them in anticipation, how could your sibling ever refuse such an attractive offer?

Barbatos

... is there any universe in which your sibling wouldn't like barbatos? look at him. he's perfect.

the only issue i could see arising here is if your sibling is very animated and finds your partner quite stiff and humorless. a shame, because barbatos has a sharp wit and sharper tongue-- but i digress.

barbatos is not anxious about this meeting. this is mostly because of who he is as a person. anxieties roll off of him like water off a duck's back. he's comforting in that way. it helps that his hands are always busy.

he spends the night before making the best cake you've ever tasted, along with a few other offerings, to the meeting. he's not worried about making a bad impression, of course, but he's not opposed to greasing the wheels a little either.

he looks wonderful when you go to leave. there's an air of sophistication around him at all times, and yet when he's of-duty, you notice something else about him: a sense of ease as he takes your hand. a small, almost humored smile pulls at his lips. in that moment, you know there's nothing to worry about.

and of course, you're right. barbatos is a true gentleman. he strikes a perfect balance between offering his help and letting your sibling flex their hosting skills. truly a perfect houseguest.

the only dubious moment comes when your sibling, after barbatos once again wows with his effortless perfection, calls him an angel. the demon's lips quirk into a small smile at the irony, just for a moment, before thanking your sibling and continuing the conversation. your sibling seems to notice the strange reaction but thankfully does not press further. he does bring it up on the way home, though-- that smile returns, this time intentional and humored as the corners of his mouth turn upwards. angel. how interesting.

diavolo bypasses the butler immediately and asks you how the meeting went, knowing barbatos won't provide him with the juicy details he wants. you hate to disappoint his highness, but the evening went swimmingly.

Simeon

simeon is an angel of the lord. hand-crafted by god, built as an ideal specimen, he does not fret over the opinions of many.

then why, pray tell, does he care so much about your older sibling liking him?

there is a supernatural charm about him. even the most irritable of people soon find themselves fond of the angel. in that regard, he's grateful. but he doesn't want to rely on his blessing. he wants your sibling to like him for who he actually is. their approval quickly becomes a symbol of prosperity for your relationship-- if your sibling somehow took issue with him, then that must be a sign from Father that your love wasn't made to be. he trusted in the heavenly plan, after all.

that trust did come with a lot of nausea, though. this angel did not like the idea that someone could think you shouldn't be together.

his mood in the coming days is a little off. he's less quick-witted, a bit more distracted, just generally sort of out of it all. it starts scaring luke and solomon. the vibes in purgatory hall are completely off when simeon's not in a good mood like usual.

he spends the night before baking with luke to make some treats to bring to the meeting. he's hoping that your sibling has a sweet tooth-- if not, he's screwed.

simeon, of course, has nothing to worry about. he's just so damn likeable! he's sweet and polite to everyone, no matter how abrasive your sibling may be. watching him interact with them makes you fall in love with him all over again.

your sibling likes him. of course they do. he's wonderful to them and to you all day. if they particularly like him, they might even mention that he's a keeper-- bonus points if it's in front of him. that'd make his whole month.

Solomon

solomon doesn't really care much about the whole "meeting the family" dance other couples have to worry about. he's been around your much longer than any other human could hope to live. that sort of existence doesn't foster a family or long-term friendships. he doesn't really have anyone that matters enough to him to gain their approval of your relationship, so, in a sense, he doesn't think about how important meeting your older sibling is to you.

when you explain it, he sort of passively agrees to the meeting. he'll try his best, stay on his best behavior, yadda yadda, but there's no part of him that would be heartbroken if something came up and you had to cancel. he just doesn't have those strong familial attachments that you do.

he doesn't seem very invested in the whole thing-- that is, until you say you're worried your older sibling might not like him, seeing as how they haven't been fond of anyone else you've dated.

oh. oh. so that's a challenge, is it?

solomon will not be losing, in that case. you best believe from this moment onward that he's putting in maximum effort to get your sibling to be his #1 fan. his social skills are a bit rusty at times-- that's why many call him "devious" and "off-putting" and "a menace to the three realms", whatever that's all about-- but he'll brush them off and prepare to charm the shit out of your older sibling.

when the meeting finally comes, he's all smiles. if they knew him better, the kindness would make him seem like a wolf in sheep's clothing, all razor sharp teeth as he lulls you into a false sense of security. it's not that he's trying to be manipulative or anything. solomon just has this way about him that makes everything he does seem at least a little shady. but you can tell that he is actually trying to be friendly and kind, even if it is just for the sense of satisfaction that comes from winning.

he'll tease you on the way home about how you doubted him from the beginning. your sibling likes him, so what were you so worried about, silly? solomon would never let something like that slide.

that night, you catch his expression shift when he thinks you're not looking-- just for a moment, there's a sense of real, genuine relief on his face from knowing that he made a good impression.

[nothorses]

Aren't you the one with the weird ass misogyny kink

This is such a perfect example of how fucking stupid callout culture is, actually.

For context, nearly two years ago now, a few blogs known for picking fights & starting harassment campaigns picked a fight & started a harassment campaign against first one transmasc blogger, then a bunch of other transmascs they harassed about reblogging his post who either didn't respond to them, or who responded unfavorably.

I won't get into the nitty-gritty here, but I did elsewhere [1] [2] and so have a few other folks.

I wasn't the original person called out. I was tacked on after the fact because I didn't respond.

What I've been "called out" for since then is, essentially, a bunch of complete bullshit made up by people who are pissed off that I encouraged people to think critically about the callout posts they came across.

Even among those lies, my sex life, kinks, fetishes, whatever- none of it has ever come up. Because I don't engage with that online, I never have, and I never will, for exactly this reason.

Would you be surprised if I told you this wasn't the first time I'd been accused of the "crimes" that original person was accused of?

You probably shouldn't be! This shit happens all the time, and it's only a natural progression of the callout culture it all stems from: one person has some shit they said taken out of context and painted in a bad light by a vindictive and usually transphobic internet loser, everyone who doesn't publicly disavow them immediately and without question is guilty by association, and what reason do they have to defend this person anyway, except so they can get away with the same thing? They must be doing it too!

And this ask especially is phrased in such a blatantly manipulate way. There's no good way to answer this: either I say "yes, but" and people stop thinking or caring there, or I say "no, here's what really happened" and I look weak and dubious for defending myself at all. The accusation has been made, the question has been asked, and now everything I say is with the assumption that this is something I am responsible for proving or disproving.

It's stupid and pointless and it's all fucking made up. It's designed to run on instinctive disgust and outrage, and what better conduit is there for rage and disgust than trans people? Especially trans people who talk about being trans.

And even putting all that aside: who fucking cares?

Who cares if one dude gets off to some shit he, in real life, both suffers from and actively tries to combat? Why are you so concerned with the private sexual fantasies of one random internet stranger? Why is it so important to you that everyone in the world know what this one dude thinks is hot when acted out between two consenting adults?

Come off anon and tell me all your kinks, anon. Tell me every single thing you have ever been turned on by, everything you've masturbated to, and why. I want detailed notes. I want links to porn. If you've made art, written fanfic, roleplayed- I want to see it.

C'mon, if this should be publicly available knowledge, let's start with you. It shouldn't matter as long as none of it's weird or off-putting to anyone else, right? You don't need to hide anything, right? There's nothing there you'd be embarrassed about, nothing you'd rather keep private, right? So what's the hold-up, why haven't you done this already? Why are you on anon to begin with; what are you hiding?

If anyone's the "sex freak" or whatever, anon, it's you. Nobody fucking needs this information about anyone, especially if they aren't sexually involved with each other. It's a massive invasion of privacy, and much more importantly it is textbook sexual harassment.

Anyway. Hi, voc and w-oc. I should be more surprised to see you two in my inbox, but I guess yall are obsessive enough to respond to, literally, a couple of tags on one reblog containing undefined, contextless acronyms of your urls. Hope you talk to a therapist about that someday.

[namjhyun]

DRAMA REVIEW | Lovely Runner (2024)

Lovely Runner it's undoubtedly one of the best dramas of 2024.

It has all the elements that make a drama a mega hit: comedy, romance, time travel, well written characters (both leads and supporting ones) and an engaging plot line that never bores you. Starring Kim Hye Yoon and Byeon Woo Seok, adapted from the web novel The Best of Tomorrow by screenwriter Lee Shi Eun and directed by Yoon Jong Ho and Kim Tae Yub, the Lovely Runner team achieved a perfect execution in front and behind the camera.

I think the true star of this drama it's the writing and on this I can't commend Lee Si Eun enough. I had already seen her potential in dramas like True Beauty but here she really manages to shine through a well crafted, smart and cohesive story with no loose ends. I'm incredibly impressed by her talent.

The writing was perfectly complemented by the directors's outstanding work in leading a film crew that was on every detail of each part of the story, in each timeline, never missing a beat. Always delivering their A+++ game. But there was also great work done from the directors part in helping the actors get the comedic timing exactly right, the more emotional scenes to deliver and the team work among cast and crew to be flawless.

Lovely Runner might be a big hit now, but it's actually a sleeper hit. The lack of promotion this drama had was embarrassing and if it wasn't for the devoted fans, studio executives would have never realized they had a gem in their hands. So, it's not only a great drama with a super fandom that really fought for this story, it's also becoming yet another prime example in the list of films and tv that achieved all of it by themselves because artists delivered nothing short of excellence.

On this point I can't ignore the incredible performances given by the entire cast. Kim Hye Yoon and Byeon Woo Seok are definitely the standouts, they stole the show, this is their story and the actors chemistry it's electrifying. But the way supportive actors would show up in a scene and push the story forward in a coherent way and even make it better, it's wild to me. The chemistry this cast had it's a rare feat for an ensamble cast and how they managed to transition seamlessly through different phases of their characters's lives and relationships when events, in each timeline, were changing because of the things our leads did they still remain truthful. So, not only the leads are well developed in this drama but also every single character that shows up, no matter how small the role is.

The best example of this it's actor Heo Hyeong-Gyu who has been working for sixteen years, playing very minor characters, finally having a breakthrough in the industry because of his role in this drama. And while his presence was prominent and important to the story, he barely had lines. So his entire performance is mainly based on micro-expressions or physical stunts.

I also fully expect the actors like Song Geon-Hee, Lee Seung-Hyub, Song Ji-Ho or Seo Hye-won to receive a lot of what korean entertainment industry calls "love calls" aka commercials, dramas and films, among other things.

Experiencing watching Lovely Runner alongside the fandom, waiting every week for a new episode, it's a big part of what made this drama so good. Healthy and good loving fun people, clowning, poking fun at our faves and crying at heartbreak. It's been a long time since I have been able to engage in this way with other fans and I am thankful for them, the cast and crew for all these amazing weeks of fun.

Rating: 10/10

[kenny-the-ken]

Y O U + M E |Pt 3|

A LOT OF WARNINGS WITH THIS ONE!!!! ALL AGED UP CHARACTERS AND IN HIGH SCHOOL/COLLEGE!! Loosely based on the Netflix show YOU, if y'all have seen it,,, then you know what Kenny's gonna do. If you haven't seen it,,, strap yourselves in, it's a lot!! Yandre Kenny, strong language, sexual content, violence, mentions of blood, gore, stalking, obsession and narcissistic thinking, so please beware!! I warned y'all!!

ALSO!!! A lot of this fic is written as Kenny's internal monologue and from his perspective so bare that in mind!!

Spring break. The literal bane of my existence. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love parties, I've taken more drugs than most people I know, excluding my parents of course, but Spring Break in the US was known for crazy parties, girls half naked in bikinis, guys chugging 2% alcohol content beers thinking that they're the shit, and copious amounts of drugs.

I don't care about any of that though, no, not at all, which you may be extremely shocked to hear, the only thing I cared about was, what were you doing for spring break?

Were you going to any parties? Were you meeting any friends, old or new? Were you planning to show yourself off in a tiny bikini, not that I'm complaining, but I'd rather see you like that alone, without other men's wondering eyes glaring at you as if you're a piece of meat. I can promise you y/n, that would not end well for anyone involved.

I had texted you this morning, like we do every morning. We fucked but after that it felt like we drifted apart. Or rather, you drifted from me. So here I sit, in my bathroom, cock in hand with my face buried in your used panties that I'd stolen from a while back, I assumed you didn't miss them much, and anyway, they were currently in use.

I'd give anything for another taste, your lips were soft, plumped, and oh so red from how aggressive I can be, your h/c cascaded perfectly down your back, and your breasts.

"Fuck." I knew thinking about you like this would make me cum faster, and that's exactly what I wanted, for reasons you'll find out soon enough.

Your pierced nipples and how perfectly shaped they were, your ass was round and perfect for slapping when you needed taught a lesson. Your hips were perfect for gripping, and oh how I'd grip your hips and fuck myself deeper and deeper and shit.

And just like that, here I am, hand covered in my own jizz, cock twitching between my legs and your panties still in my hand.

I have a box, I keep it under lock and key behind my wardrobe, just some little souvenirs, your panties, some nude Polaroids I'd found of you in your bedroom. Oh yeah, and one of Clyde's teeth. Just to remember him by.

You see, although we weren't dating, that didn't mean that you weren't in need of protection, you see, I'd overheard Clyde chatting to Jimmy about how he was thinking of asking you on a date. Now, I've known Clyde for a long time, he uses women like they're nothing, fucks 'em, leaves 'em.

What did you expect me to do? I mean, I did this for you! He was going to take advantage of your kindness and use you for his own sexual gratification and desires and then throw you away like you're worthless, and you are far from worthless. I'd kiss your feet as you walked the earth if you'd let me, oh how I'd worship you, like you deserve to be.

It wasn't too hard to kill Clyde, you see, when you've been known as a fuck boy before, which I unfortunately have been, other fuck boys, they tend to trust you more. So Clyde was pretty easy to reel in. I told him the truth, how I was working on an English project with you and I fucked you in your bedroom, and Clyde was all over that shit like a dog on heat. He was so focussed on what he was planning to text to you, obviously with my keen eye proof reading it for him, he was too distracted to notice me coming behind him with a brick. He only realised just as it was too late, sorry dude, your skull's caved in.

We needn't worry about the details of where his body is, let's just say... I've taken care of it. And tonight was our date, and also the first night of spring break, I would ask you what you were up to, and of course I wouldn't demand to come, unless you chose to invite me, no, I would just hang out in background, you won't even notice that I'm there. And I dare anyone to try anything, they would be dead men walking.

It didn't take long for the time of our date to roll around, and I stood on your doorstep, politely knocking on your door a few times, before smiling as the door cracked open.

You were breathtaking. I'd worked my ass off at City Wok to be able to afford to take you out to dinner, and my god, no food could ever look as delicious as you looked right now. Your tits, your hips, your ass, your legs, your hair, your face, everything! We were destined to be together, and when you smiled back at me I swore my heart swole in my chest.

"Hey, Kenny. You ready to go?" You asked, pulling your leather jacket on over your short, black dress that was showing off way too much cleavage for me to control myself for the entire evening, god I'd take you right here right now if I could.

"I was born ready, baby. I got these for you." I replied, bowing to you and holding out a small bouquet of flowers, your hand clutching your chest, and a gasp leaving your red stained lips.

"They're beautiful, Ken! Oh you shouldn't have! I'll just go get these into a vase, please come in." You spoke like an angel, and who was I to say no to an invitation into your home?

"I wanted to. I really do mean what I said last time, I've had my eye on you from you moved here, y/n, and you're different than those other girls, you're special, I can tell." You cheeks were flushed which meant that my charm was working. You'd be mine soon, and as much as I wanted to show you off to the world, I also wanted to hide you from it, so no one would dare to try and steal what's rightfully mine, or they'd end up like Clyde. Buried in the middle of fuck knows where.

"Had your eye on me? Not a little stalker are you, McCormick?" You joked, and I hoped it was a joke, you were laughing and so was I, so that was a good sign.

"Not at all! I mean, how could my eyes not go to you when you walk past me? I mean, look at you!" And slinging my arms round your hips would surely make you see that I was nothing but a pure gentleman.

"You're such a flirt, Kenny." God the way you looked at me, it was no surprise that to me that you'd stolen my heart, god the things I would do to you, the things I would do for you, oh they were criminal, but in this moment as I stood staring into your perfect e/c eyes, I couldn't care if my crimes caught up with me, I mean, getting away with it would be easy, trust me, I'm not that stupid.

Around two hours had passed and so far, our date seemed to be going perfectly, you were laughing at my jokes, I flirted, and you flirted right back, you'd told me about a huge spring break party at Tolken's house, you'd asked me to be your plus one, of course I'd gratefully accept, I needed to keep you safe, you even took my hand within your own when we were leaving the restaurant, my plan was working a charm, and you'd invited me in to your house for a quick night cap, no doubt I'd be staying the night.

And when you led me to your bedroom wearing nothing but some skimpy lingerie, I knew that your panties that were in my safe would be getting a much needed night off from being pressed against my face.

You were on top of me, grinding on me, fuck you were so needy, and my cock was growing by the second, I couldn't help but groan and pull your hips down against my own.

I'd swapped the positions, and now you lay beneath me, I'd left dozens of hickeys all over your neck, your breasts, your stomach, thighs, and now I was going to taste your sweet cunt again, god I couldn't wait, it had been too long from I'd tasted you, had my tongue inside you, claiming your insides, god I was starved, and I couldn't wait any longer, and just as I pressed a closed mouth kiss against your parted lips, your fucking phone rang.

"Ignore it. Don't answer." I ordered, my tongue lapping up your wetness, a moan coming from your lips as your phone started ringing again, and of course, being the kind person that you are, you answered.

And this couldn't have been a worse time, your face was worried, and you moved my head from where I wanted desperately to be for the past week, it was your mother.

Drug overdose, she was in hospital and you had to be there to take care of her, not that she ever did the same for you. No, you'd told me previously that our lives were similar in a lot of ways, and that's where my need to protect you came from. You were like a delicate flower awaiting to bloom, but others put you in the dark, stopped you ever from doing so, from ever reaching your full potential, but I was here now. I was going to care for you, I'd put you in the sun and give you all the love and support I could, the perfect partner, a soul mate some may say.

And as you hurried to pull your sweatpants and T-shirt on to your small frame, tears welling in the corners of your eyes, you gave me a hug, whispering sweet apologies, and I offered to come with you, which you declined. And I understood why, I hated people meeting my parents, seeing my sorry excuse of a home, fitted with built in meth lab in the garden. You were embarrassed, ashamed of your drug addict mother, and I felt that pain, I knew it personally. I was strong enough to deal with it, but you darling, you're too fragile, far too good to be feeling that way, and by god would I protect you from anything.

I'm so sorry to say this baby, your mother will never get clean, she's never been clean your entire life, it truly is a miracle that she's lasted this long. I'd be doing you and everyone else a favour. You'd told me this wasn't the first overdose she'd had, and every one made you feel the same way, like you were the parent, like you were at fault, you didn't keep an attentive enough eye on her, the pain you were feeling was soul destroying, not just for you, but for me too! How dare that woman who brought you into this world make you feel so awful, how dare she cause you pain and misery, if she died it would mean she couldn't cause any more of that, sure you'd be sad, but you'd realise in time that life was better without having to worry every time you left the house if you would come back to your mother, her skin blue and covered in her own vomit, which she choked on in her drug idled state.

And I would care for you, I'd be your shoulder to cry on, your support network, your lover and your boyfriend all tied into one, the whole package, you'd fall straight into my lap and I swear, I'd never ever let you go.

I'm sorry hunny, but your mother needs to be dealt with, and it would be easier than you'd think, one bad batch could wipe out hundreds of drug addicts, and besides, it's not as if I'd never used this method before. My parents died of an 'overdose', well, at least that's what the coroner's report said on the matter, Karen was put into my care, and the home was given to us, and life had been so much happier from I did my whole family a favour and took them out of the equation, and I know you will feel the same, in time at least.

As I drove you to the hospital you told me about your childhood. How you'd been in foster care, then your mother cleaned her act up and for a long time she was stable and in recovery, till she met some douchebag when you were ten, and she was back to using again, and your life had never been the same since.

When we pulled up outside the hospital, you hugged me tightly and kissed me twice, telling me that you'd text me later, and thanking me for the lovely evening, I assured you that this was to be the first of many of these delightful evenings, and even in the deepest depths of your pain, you still smiled at me.

I watched you till your figure disappeared inside the hospital, and I knew there and then what had to be done. I'm sorry baby, but your mother isn't good for you, she's not good for you, not good for us!

She had to go, and I had to be the one to kill her.

[d1g1tal-d1ary]

Slow morning in Paris // Alex Turner

Summary: Alex and his girlfriend desperatly needed to get out of London. Both booking a spontaneous getaway to Paris, they end up enjoying themselves the next morning in every way possible.

Tags: smut, f!reader, fucking, basically porn without a plot but idk, my first ever written smut, fucking, love, p in v

I lost myself in his side profile. His dark hair which wasn't styled yet, the way his mouth was agape just enough for the smoke to escape but most of all; his eyes. I loved his perfectly curled lashes, the way his eyes would dart from the street to the balconies on the other side of our apartment but I couldn't help but think of the times they gazed upon me - took in my features and mesmerized every detail I never even noticed myself.

"Good morning, love," he said with a smile, his eyes lingering on my naked form which was only partially covered by the sheets.

"Good morning," I mumbled between a yawn before turning onto my back but still watching his every move. "How long have you been awake for?"

"Not long," he assured, took a last hit and snipped the cigarette down the open window. "The traffic woke me up. We forgot to close the window last night."

I stared at him after taking in his words; on one hand because I couldn't believe we really booked that flight only 24 hours prior of us being in Paris but on the other because the memories of last night came flooding, alerting me that we weren't being exactly quiet.

"You're lying," I murmured. I covered my reddish face with both of my hands, too ashamed to face the real world. All I wished for in that moment was for him to take me just as good as he had done the night before, letting me forget about the rest of the world.

"I wish I was," he chuckled and I could feel a weight pressing the matress next to me down and his fingers lingering on my stomach. "But who cares? We're in Paris, babe, everything that happens in Paris, stays in Paris, doesn't it?"

After a moment of silence, I took my hands from my face and faced him; the way he was also dressed in only his boxers made me want to reach out and show him my love for him as close as possible.

All I was able to do was hum in response, slowly sitting up and reaching out so my hands were running through his hair. Soft, so soft was all I could think of. I felt him slightly lean into my touch but I didn't miss how his hands were exploring my body as well. His hands were touching my thighs before softly beginning to knead my breasts; making me moan in response.

"God, I will never get enough of you, darling," was all I heard before he pulled me on top of him and immediatly pulling me into a passionate kiss. I couldn't help but wonder if he'd really never get enough of me; if he'd grow old with me but those thoughts were quickly drowned when his one hand was gripping my ass and his other was teasing my slit, so wet, so wet already from just kissing.

"Fuckin' dripping, aren't you?" he groaned before he was rubbing my clit just the way I loved it. I squirmed and moaned and I could no longer return his slow and sensual kisses which made him continue plastering my neck and jaw with kisses instead.

"I'm- ah! comin', Alex," I was gripping his shoulders tightly by now, more riding his fingers against my clit than him moving them in any way and I had thrown my head back, giving him the perfect view of my tits.

"Cum for me, love," he whispered and watched me intensly. Not a moment had passed when I moaned his name out loud, shuddering from the orgasm while my eyes were shut tightly.

He gave me a few seconds to come down from my high before grabbing my face and pulling me into another kiss, but this time sloppier and I could already feel him grinding against me, eager to find some friction. I didn't hesitate and pulled down his boxers, freeing his cock. His cock felt so familiar in my hands; practically made for me which made me moan even though he was the one being pleasured while I was stroking it a few times.

"I want to be inside of you," he whispered and I quickly nodded. I arose onto my knees before lining him up and sinking down on him. Both of us escaped a loud moan when I felt him fill me up completely.

"Fuck, Alex," I sighed and his hands found their way back to my ass.

"I know, darling, I know," he exhaled shakily, nodding and groaned when I began to move up and down, slowly finding a rhythm.

I was watching him; watching him grimace in pleasure. The pleasure I was giving him. When I had found a steady rhythm, I started playing with his hair, pulling on it or just admiring the way he still looked so beautiful even though I could see a bit of sweat on his forehead.

"You're so beautiful, Alex," I mumble hastily before moaning again as he had hit that sweet, so bittersweet spot within me.

"No, you are," he finally looked up at me and our eyes met. "I get hard just watching you sleep because you're so fuckin' admirable."

I squirm and feel myself reaching my high and by the way he was panting, I knew he was also close.

"That's it, love," he groaned again and I could feel tightening around his cock at his words. "God, you're- fuck, I wish I could stay in you until I die."

After having heard those words, I came undone around him and eagerly bounced on his cock, riding out my orgasm. Not long after, he followed. I felt his cock twitching, his cum shooting into me and I wanted to savour this feeling as only he could make me feel like this; so at home, so comfortable after sex.

(This was my first ever written smut?? Any Feedback? Is it good or bad??!! Hope y'all love it :3)

[brumeraven]

🍂: On Brumerot || decay, creativity, fae, inconstancy, scribes, self-doubt, weirdly personal and probably not relatable

Everything about my home was perfect once.

Except for the cabinets.

I suppose I should have noticed even then.

I suppose I did know, even then.

But it was such a little thing, so easy to pretend to overlook.

Everything about my home was perfect once, because it had to be. I'd written it that way, after all. Every single word exactly what and where it should be, every sentence perfect, every detail exact and impeccable.

And every bit of it was, except the cabinets.

Oh, they'd been perfect once as well, along with all the rest. Every knot and whorl in the wood where it was meant to be, every bit of the cope-and-stick construction meant to evoke exactly the sense of simplicity and elegance I wanted, restraint and dignity without hauteur.

I was happy with them. Well, content with them, at least. The truth of it is that I never noticed them, because they were just the way they were supposed to be. Who pays mind to what is correct and in its place?

Until the day I noticed the corner.

Just the one.

But it was flawed, smashed, finish chipped, wood splintered.

Only slightly, as if in a moment's carelessness, an unfortunate impact with chair or broom or who knows what.

But that wasn't possible. It couldn't be other than I'd created it. Other than I'd left it.

I drew my pen, the dull steel drinking in the light that fell upon it, nib stained and corroded no matter how oft I cleaned it. Creation took its toll on creator, regardless of how careful one was.

I stooped over for a closer look, peering closely at the imperfection.

Wood gave way to words upon inspection, the edge of the cabinet revealing its true form, unfolding and unraveling into script so dense it fooled the senses of all but the one who'd written it, letters etched not in ink but in absence, as if Void itself had been writ into unbeing.

...

"Cherry."

"Heartwood."

"Pith flecks."

"Tung oil."

"Carnauba wax."

"Auborn."

"Satin."

"Soft."

"Fragile."

"Mutable."

"Impermanent."

...

Something rose in my throat, fear and disgust and confusion and sickly bitter bile. I couldn't remember writing those last few words. Why would I have wanted to? This was my havenworld; it would not change but for my will. It simply could not.

And yet...there they stood, those words that seemed to corrode the space around them, the feathered and bleeding letters eating away at their surroundings like rust and moth.

As one depraved, I plunged nib into ink, that abyssal mix that held power of creation and destruction alike, its repice simple, unchanging, a sumi inkstick made from the ashes of every page of words I'd ever burned, dissolved in liquid Shadow.

The offending words struck through.

...

"HARD."

"PERFECT."

"UNCHANGING."

"ETERNAL."

...

The values I thought I held. The mirror of my fears.

And it worked. For a day.

The next day, the kitchen was all wrong, beautiful, vivacious wood replaced by cold, uncaring industrial steel, all right-angles and welds.

I hadn't asked for this, hadn't written this.

And yet...when I looked, the writ was in my hand, signed in the ink only I used, sealed in hopelessness.

...

"Steel."

"Hard."

"Durable."

"Perfect."

...

Well, perhaps I'd written it, but it wasn't what I'd wanted. I wasn't the me who'd written it, any more than yesterday I'd been the me who'd finished the kitchen in delicate wood.

So I rewrote them as stone, something more natural, if still durable.

It only worsened from there.

Day by day, year by year, words shifted, little by little, drifted in meaning to me. Stone chipped. Paint peeled. Wood warped. I read, wrote, reread, rewrote; nothing ever stayed the same. Each time, new flaws, new things to fix, unintended implications, unforeseen shortcomings.

Who could say what changed.

The words? The world?

Bit by bit, everything ended. No matter how much I tried to hold steady this asylum, moment by moment it all changed.

One day, I looked back and realized that everything had died and rotted.

One day, I looked back and realized that everything was gone.

One day, I looked back and realized that whoever had made this world was gone as well.

I too had died and rotted away. But not to nothing, no, much worse than that. I'd rotted away to something.

That was the day I burned every last page of it.

At least whatever I wrote next, it would be with a clean slate.

~🍂

[nowoyas]

(un)professional (NSFW/suggestive) - Nishinoya Yuu/Reader

m.list - Ao3

A/N: written at the suggestion of an anon! I'm very likely going to write a follow-up to this.

Summary: It's your company's 50th anniversary, and it's kicking off a month-long anniversary celebration with a mandatory work banquet. Formal wear, impress the clients invited to the event, oh—and bring your partner. Surely, Noya can be trusted to keep his hands off you for one night, right?

Warnings: suggestive, suit kink, semi-public, making out, biting (I mean come on it's a fic I wrote you can just kinda expect it at this point)

Words: 2300+

You are quite sure that you've been this stressed at least once before in your life, but nothing really comes to mind. Entrance exams, maybe? Waiting to hear back on whether or not you had a future?

None of that compares to this.

This, of course, refers nearly every waking moment of the past few weeks: preparing for a month of work events, of 50th anniversary sales, marketing marketing marketing, long nights at the office and coming home to your pouty, early-to-bed boyfriend who misses you the way a puppy might—half-asleep but excited to see you all the same.

He's been so good in the past few weeks. Making sure you ate, sending you reminder texts to take a nap and that he loves you, and you adore Noya with your whole heart for being there throughout the crunch.

It's almost over. Soon, it'll be the actual events, instead of the million tasks required to prep each one—kicked off with a banquet. Dinner, mingling with coworkers, other departments, and some of the bigger-ticket clients. Formal wear. And, like everyone else in attendance, you are expected to bring your partner.

He'd agreed. That was the worst part. You'd offered to take a friend instead, but that had only made him mad—and let everyone think you belong to someone else? Hell no. He didn't have anything going on, his work actually gave him the time off, and, since you were busy ripping your hair out, he assured you that he was getting a suit with friends—and, he'd added, with Asahi, the fashion designer, and not Ryu, the one who only seems to encourage his chaos—and that everything would be ready in time for the banquet. He'd sat back and patiently waited for you to detail boundaries for the night, but still it wasn't enough.

The thing isn't that you don't trust him. It's that it's Noya, your Noya, who you love. Ever since you moved in together over a year ago, his hands have rarely left your body at home, and you frequently find yourself interrupted with dizzying kisses before he goes back to whatever he's doing. He thrives on showering you with affection, and you adore him for it, adore the little boost of self-esteem at knowing just how much he wants you, but… you don't exactly want him pausing to affectionately plant a kiss on your neck where your boss can see.

"No grabbing my ass tonight," you call over your shoulder as Noya gets ready in the bathroom. You're already ready to go, frantically cleaning up the bedroom in an effort to work out the nervous energy. "I do mean that."

Noya groans from the bathroom. "But it's perfectly shaped for my hand!"

"One of our biggest clients, and also my boss, are going to be there. No."

He whines in reply, and you let out a nerve-riddled sigh. "Please, Noya. I could lose my job if they think I'm unprofessional tonight."

"You're not gonna lose your job. I promise. I can be good, you know?"

You straighten up, having re-made the bed for the fiftieth time in the past twenty-minutes. "I know, I just—"

You turn and there's Noya: fresh cologne, chapsticked lips pressing sweetly against yours. "Baby. I'm gonna be the perfect coworker's boyfriend tonight. Hand on your waist, no sliding lower or higher, at absolute worst one or two completely workplace-appropriate kisses. Professional as fuck. The only PDA is gonna be Professional Displays of Affection. Alright?"

You sigh, letting him kiss you one more time. "Alright. I trust you."

"Gonna be the best arm candy. Gonna make them think I'm your trophy husband," he teases as he peppers kisses on your cheeks. "Some old dude is gonna make a boring joke and I'm gonna giggle like a sugar baby so you look smarter just by standing next to me."

You giggle, pushing him away. "Stop that."

"You could replace me with a purse dog tonight, that's how good I'm gonna be. The most professional little pomeranian in an overpriced bag. They're gonna think I'm a stuffed animal for the first hour until they notice all the food on my plate has mysteriously disappeared."

"Oh my god, Noya—"

He stops and sighs, and you sigh with him, flashing a dopey little smile. That's about when you open your eyes and really look at him, and oh.

Your mouth suddenly feels dry as you take him in. Noya's slicked his hair back, leaving his trademark little tuft of blonde spiked up the normal way. He's already mostly dressed—well-fitting pants, nice shirt, a fucking vest that cinches in his waist a little. His tie hangs, loose and not-yet-tied, around his neck. In short, he looks delicious, and you're reminded that you maybe have been avoiding eye contact with a little bit of a thing for suits for a few years, now.

He grins sheepishly. "I haven't had to tie a tie since I graduated middle school. Could you, uh…?"

You nod. Fumble a little as you reach for the tie. Try to blink away the fog that has suddenly clouded over your thoughts. "Y-yeah, of course."

"Something wrong?"

"No! No, of course not, just—you did good by bringing your friend to get the suit. It's perfect," you manage. Of course, what you mean is something more along the lines of I need to jump your bones right this instant, but you've got fifteen minutes before you have to leave so you get there appropriately early, so instead, you try not to call attention to it, and instead focus on his tie.

"Good, right? Asahi-san said I should match it to you, so…"

Oh. It does match. You're not in identical suits, but his vest matches your jacket, his tie your vest. Your own tie melds well with your outfit and his, and your heart melts a little at the thought. "Thank him for me. You look great."

"Great?" he repeats, waggling his eyebrows with a smug look.

"Fantastic," you assure him as you secure the knot. For good measure, you smooth down his collar, and then, as you lean in to kiss him, you tuck the tie down his vest. "Got your jacket?"

"In the living room. Am I driving?"

"Please."

"Got it, babe." He flashes a smile, and you watch appreciatively as he slips into his suit jacket, effortless, and fastens the button.

"You're the best," you reply, eyes lingering on the curve of his waist, the fit of his pants on his ass.

You are so fucked.

~

You're glad you made Noya drive; for one thing, you're better at navigating from the passenger seat, and for another, you can't fucking tear your eyes off him. He keeps a hand on your thigh the whole way there, thumb rubbing circles into the fabric the way he always does when he's trying to keep you grounded. It's his silent way of saying: breathe. I got you.

So you breathe. You try to compose yourself on the way to the hotel, try to get ahold of your brain so you're not blatantly staring at him the whole night. But it's hard, okay? It's fucking hard. Noya lounges around your house topless, in sweatpants, during the summers and in a loose hoodie and pants in the winter. He's a t-shirt and basketball shorts guy. You've never seen him dressed up like this. The scent of his cologne is making you dizzy.

And he's just as perfect as he promised he'd be: he walks you in, keeps his hand in E-for-Everyone-rated placements, makes charming small talk with the coworkers you've been sat with. When it comes time to mingle, you mingle, and he does a better job of chatting up the clients and executives than you do. If you could think about anything except his shoulders in that jacket, you might be thinking something along the lines of how he's practically earning you a raise by himself.

He lets you handle the polite refusal of champagne for the both of you, gushes over how hard you've been working for your company's 50th these past few months, how proud he is of you. For the millionth time, you're reminded of how easy it is to love him: he's so bright, so good with people, so effortless in how he navigates the social waters. And he's hot as all fuck.

He's so good that you don't even mind when he excuses himself to find a restroom—you're engaged in conversation with your boss and one of your favorite coworkers, able to ride the high of him behaving himself while you charm all the right people. You channel Noya in his absence, and it's easy—everyone else is at least tipsy, but the two of you are not, and it makes it all the easier.

They're quick to gush about him in his absence—how nice he is, how charming, how utterly professional in comparison to one of your seniors, pulled away from nearly sitting in her husband's lap in the corner. You preen under the attention, more proud of Noya than you ever have been of yourself, and chat with them until, at last, you're starting to feel a bit suspicious.

Noya's been gone over twenty minutes.

"I'm gonna go looking for him, actually," you say with a smile. "He probably got caught up talking to someone."

"Good luck," your boss says, grin wide. "And keep up the good work!"

You scan the room for him, to no avail. You'd know his voice anywhere, know where to find him in an instant—even when he's not being loud, like tonight, your ears are specially tuned to the sound of his voice. And he's not here. Frowning, you slip out into the hall in search of the bathrooms, and in the cool quiet of the hallway, away from all the people, you let out a sigh of relief.

You hope you find him soon.

You follow down the dim hallway, eyes scanning just in case a certain someone decides to try to scare you—

And yelp as you're dragged, wrist-first, into a dark closet.

You find yourself staring into familiar brown eyes, warm and molten as you're pulled flush against a too-familiar body. "Hi," Noya whispers. "Been looking for you."

"You're supposed to be my emotional support extrovert!" you pout, hitting his chest lightly. "You left me to socialize all by myself!"

"Well, I had to get you away somehow." He flashes a wicked grin, and the discomfort that's been brewing between your thighs all night rears its head once again. "Someone can't keep their eyes off me today."

"I-I think you're projecting," you mumble, eyes lingering on his lips.

"Am I? I can feel your eyes on me, you know," he teases. "I think you're supposed to be attracted to your boyfriend."

"You look really good in a suit," you admit at last. "Like, too good."

"There it is. That can't have been that hard to say."

"Oh, shut up," you snap. His thumbs hook into your belt loops, tug you forward until his thigh is firmly pressed between yours. You gasp at the sudden pressure, the grind of him against your heat.

He stifles a laugh. "We gotta be quiet, [name]. You don't want anyone to think you're unprofessional, do you?"

"Oh fuck you."

"That's kind of the goal, babe. You spent all week telling me to be good tonight, and you can barely stop checking me out for a few seconds."

Frustrated, you grab at his tie, tug him into a hot, open-mouthed kiss. His hands slide—one gripping your ass, the other unbuttoning your suit jacket just to rest on your waist—and his lips are hot against yours as he kisses you senseless. He tastes more than pleasant, and you're pretty sure he reapplied his chapstick while he was waiting for you.

When you break away, breathless, you drop your head against his shoulder. But his hands don't stop moving: he loosens your tie, begins unbuttoning your shirt.

"Noya," you breathe, pushing at him lightly. "We can't."

"I'll stop if you tell me to," he replies, and then he's pushing the collar of your shirt aside, attaching his lips to your collarbone.

"Yuu," you whine.

He doesn't stop, and you don't tell him to. He scrapes his teeth against your flesh, finds the spot he's memorized just to make you melt as you drag your hips against his leg.

You shouldn't be doing this, but you find it hard to care with how easily he wrecks you, how easily he has you a puddle of mush at his feet. You think you might go completely insane if you don't get his dick in your mouth just like this—him fully clothed, you disheveled and waiting for him, but he has other plans as his hands continue their adventure in mapping out your body.

He moves from your collarbone only to kiss you again properly, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You moan softly around his tongue, eager for more, his hands sliding down to slip below your waistband, closer and closer to your soaked panties—

And tucking your shirt in neatly as he pulls away all at once. You chase his lips with a whine, pouting even harder when he begins buttoning your shirt back up with a snicker.

"Yuu, what are you—"

He smiles as he smooths down your collar. "I promised I'd behave, didn't I?"

"I hate you."

"No, you don't."

"I do," you grumble.

He fixes your hair. "You can hate me when we get home. Right now, I'd focus my energy on not walking out of this storage closet looking like you're ready to ride me in front of all your big-ticket clients."

You groan, drop your head against his shoulder again. "Fuck you. Seriously, fuck you."

"Not here," he teases. "It wouldn't be very professional to do it here."

You're either gonna marry him or kill him by the end of the year. You'll decide in the car.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory

[ollieofthebeholder]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks @fridayyy-13th for the tag!

How many works do you have on Ao3? 64!

What's your total Ao3 word count? Holy...! Uh, 1,700,611. (I should've guessed, I've got some ultra-long fics on there, but Jesus Christ on a cracker.)

What fandoms do you write for? These days, mostly The Magnus Archives. I've also written for Star Trek (primarily the AOS/Kelvin films), the MCU/Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., Cut & Run, and RQG. I've got a couple of very, very old Sherlock fics, a couple PJO fics from some ship week challenges I took part in back when the Heroes of Olympus books were still coming out, a couple WTNV fics, a few Star Wars fics that never made it to AO3, and three one-offs.

What are your top five fics by kudos? leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall) - 1,758 kudos Had He Known It - 777 kudos Whiskey Lullaby - 395 kudos It Was Just My Imagination Telling Lies - 378 kudos Hurry Up and Slow Me Down - 349 kudos

Do you respond to comments? Every single one! It's half the fun to me.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Ooh...that's a toughie, actually, but I'm going to go with Where the Road Waits to be Taken because it's the only one where the ending focuses on the people left behind.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Also a toughie! But I'm going to go with Love Will Find Out the Way.

Do you get hate on fics? Not so much anymore. I've been around long enough that I definitely used to, but I write for saner fandoms now.

.Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Not these days. I'm asexual and, while I'm personally sex-averse, my tolerance for it in fiction kind of goes in cycles. I think the last time I wrote an explicit sex scene was in 2016 or 2017.

.Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Heh...I do, on occasion. Most recently the WTNV/TMA crossover (the full extent of which hasn't been published yet), which isn't that crazy. I think the craziest one I wrote was the Sherlock/Star Trek crossover that was also (sigh) a HP AU...which I have deleted, so sorrynotsorry.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not as far as I know, but I don't exactly go looking.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Again, not as far as I know.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Uh...technically? My brother had an idea for a fic, but he wasn't old enough to join any fanfic websites at the time (we were probably the only two kids who never lied about our age on the internet to join websites), so he dictated it to me, I fleshed it out and posted it under my username.

What's your all time favorite ship? I love so many, but I have to say, the only ship I love that I genuinely can call an OTP in that I cannot fathom them in a relationship with anyone else (even adding anyone else to the equation) is Cecilos. JonMartin is a close second, but, well, I can see (and frequently enjoy) them also having other people in their relationships. Cecil and Carlos? Nuh-uh.

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Ooh. There are...a couple. But I have a WIP sitting in my Tumblr drafts that was a sequel to Hurry Up and Slow Me Down that I would very much like to finish someday...I just, yeah.

What are your writing strengths? Angst and heartbreak. I've got a gift for descriptions, and I'm really good at conveying emotion in text. And I think I have a knack for putting together a tasty sentence.

What are your writing weaknesses? I do tend to get hung up on irrelevant details, and I frequently think myself into a corner. I also think I tend to obsess sometimes about things being perfect...and if I'm being honest, a big weakness of mine (not just in my writing, but in general) is that I often feel like it's something I need to apologize for, which is not helpful.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Oh, I love doing that! I try to put a translation in hover text, and also in a footnote for benefit of screen readers, but I also try not to burden the actual text with translations. It's one of those "trust the reader to know what you're trying to say, and if they can't figure it out from context, you have failed as a writer" things to me. (This may have something to do with the fact that I used to write Star Trek fanfic, and conlangs are a thing.)

First fandom you wrote for? If you want to get technical, Power Rangers; I used to tell myself stories about the Power Rangers to put myself to sleep at night when I was a little kid, and once I wrote one down and read it out loud for Show and Tell. (The opening line was "One night, when Kimberly and Trini were sleeping, they were stolen," which should tell you everything you need to know about it. In my defense, I was seven.) I didn't know that's what it was at the time, though. If you're talking fandoms that I wrote for knowing it was a fandom and published on the internet...well, I grew up in the '90s and turned thirteen in the early '00s, so it probably shouldn't be that big of a surprise that it was HP.

Favorite fic you've written? It's like asking me to pick a favorite child. I am deeply in love with to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest) even if the next chapter is currently frustrating me a bit, because I am always deeply in love with my current project, because I love the way it showcases how I've grown as an author. That being said, I think my favorite fic that is currently complete might actually be Tomorrow When the World Is Free.

Tagging (absolutely no pressure) @blasphemous-lies-and-deceit, @amberastra, @magnetarmadda, @astudyinfic, @dyscalculated, and anyone else who wants to give this a go!

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

hi there lovely! i've read a few stories you've written and i'm absolutely smitten by your works! the way you portray simon is exactly how i imagine him to be. i really love how detailed you can write all your fics and i'm here for it!

i have a few questions + request tho if you don't mind and please you can just skip the question or request if you feel uncomfy with it! :)

my request: could you write anything for ghost x (f) reader what takes place in like 1700's/1800's (anything historical) with an angsty trope but happy ending? (i really love historical ff's)

question 1: i still haven't read the roommate series but i've seen that it has 4 chapters, did it already end or will there be more chapters? (i really want to read it when it ends because i can read it all in one sitting then lmao)

question 2: do you plan on writing another series with ghost? (i'm just really in love with that big guy and the way you write him is just... the perfect combination. please don't feel pressured! i'm just really curious)

question 3: do you have any tips for people who want to start writing? english is not my native language and i really want to start writing but i'm quite insecure:(

these were my questions and i hope i wasn't bothering you!

btw i really like how friendly you answer another anon's asks!

thank you so much for giving us the opportunity to read all of your amazing works!

keep up the great work and ily!🤍

Hi anon! Thank you so much for liking my work, you don't know how much I appreciate it. I'll just go down the list of things you sent in order and answer them!

Request: I absolutely can! I'm a huge fan of historical stuff. I will try to come up with something that would work but right now it would either be some kind of regency period drama or it could be cowboys! If you have something specific feel free to send it in my inbox!

Question 1: The Roommate Series is not over! There are still plenty of parts/extras I have planned. Sorry you might have to wait a while.

Question 2: yes!! I’ve got other ideas with the big guy that I’ll be working on eventually

Question 3: I have a few tips for new writers

Practice! I hate when people says this I know but they’re right. Just write whatever comes to mind no matter how “bad” it is. Bad is subjective which means that it might not be bad. I still practice with my writing every day

Have fun! Writing is about expression and writing is a part of yourself. Have fun with it. Write that cheesy romance, write that really easily solvable mystery. If it makes you happy and you’re having fun then that’s all that matters

Other peoples opinions don’t matter! If someone makes fun of what you write, tell them to go fuck themselves. Did they spend hours, days, years, writing something from the heart and using blood sweat and tears for it? No so why would what they say have to matter. If it makes you happy, then that’s what’s truly matters. Don’t be afraid to write something because you don’t think it’s good or because your first language isn’t English! Just have fun and let yourself be happy!

I hope that was helpful!! I like talking to you guys so keep sending in asks. Hope you have a good day anon and keep writing!!

[savebatsfromscratch]

No.7 Machinery Malfunction

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50647741

Words: 1,078

Cws: Cults and brainwashing, crying

Notes: Mitsumi whump lol. Emotional, specifically. About her getting out of Team Galactic. (I saw that it wasn’t exactly explained in detail, and decided she should break out herself, and then have a BAD time while trying to choose what to do before eventually running into Professor Rowan. …he’s not gonna be in this fic though.)    Written while looping this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ksba_WnMpuo 

Prompt: No. 7: “I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.” Alleyway | Radio Silence | “Can you hear me?”

Mitsumi rang her hands together. She was pacing silently down the road, looking over her shoulders at every snap of a stick or howl of wind through the leafless trees. She’d been out of the Galactic base for a few hours now, and she felt that at any moment, those horrible grasping hands would be on her neck again.

In her racing mind, she was half sure they had noticed her absence already, as every other fear driven thought urged her to run back to the base and pretend that none of this had even happened, but how could she do that when the winds of freedom were already lifting her wings?

She was out for good, that much was sure. After tasting freedom, she knew already that she would never again be the same.

And still, she had no clue where to go from here. She’d been very small when Team Galactic had “kindly” taken her in, and she hardly remembered a time when she was free to roam the world.

In one word, she felt lost.

…but she also felt scared.

She didn’t know where she was, she didn’t know what she was doing. They were after her and she was sure of it, but how could she fight them when her entire world was changed?

Mitsumi broke into a run, whispering wordless fears to herself as her heels pounded against the fallen leaves. She needed to get out of here, but where would she go?

Now that she thought about it, she wasn't even entirely sure where the Galactic Base had been located, let alone where she'd managed to wander off to in the couple of hours that she'd been free from it. It was one thing to get out of a cult with a plan, it was quite enough to jump into the world with only the warped sense of the rules they had fed you.

To feel it all collapse on her as the fresh breeze cleared her throat and the early winter chill set her hair sticking up on her neck… She was out in the middle of nowhere, as far as she was concerned. No matter how many trainers frequented the route she traveled, she was alone, and how could it be that an organization such as Team Galactic would be unable to spot a green haired girl all on her own?

She was alone when it came to help, but what kind of predator just left easy prey out in the open? She knew that they were smart enough to find her again. It's what they'd done the first time, right?

She ran faster and faster, slipping over decomposing plants and shoving through trees. She didn't know where she was going, she just knew she had to get away. She was out of the building, but her limbs still felt restrained by those awful chains, though she'd been such a “star” that she'd never felt them herself.

Cyrus' perfect machine.

Mitsumi felt hot tears burning down her face, chilling her the instant the cold wind hit them.

What was she doing?

She skidded to a stop, and her hair wrapped itself around her body as the wind tried to carry it onwards, but she could not do the same. How could she hope to break free of Team Galactic when all that she knew was their world? Their rules, their stories, their training, their battles.

She'd fought through all of them with ease, but would she be able to defeat them when it really came down to it? She wasn't called a perfect creation for nothing. She could fight what she had been told were her enemies, of course, that's what they'd always hammered into her skull, but could she fight Team Galactic itself?

No one had ever let her believe that they could ever be the enemy.

She didn't have the words to describe what was going on in her head, but she knew that just the idea of rebelling felt like it was tearing her to shreds. She didn't have what it took to get out of something like this! How could she? The only thing she'd ever been taught was the best way to tear a person's mind apart, what could she do when hers was the only one to lock onto to target?

She certainly didn't have what it took to get herself to safety, that much she was sure of.

Mitsumi felt her knees buckle under her, and she collapsed to the ground in a horrible crying lump. If Cyrus saw her now, she was sure that the only thing he could think to do would be to put her out of her misery. (And part of her believed that such a horror was all that she deserved.)

After all, there comes a time when it becomes more profitable to swap out the malfunctioning machinery than to fix it when it breaks. Maybe she'd already been broken, but when that seemed to be the goal, running away was surely more than her manufacturers would care to deal with.

Truthfully, she'd only ever known fighting. From what felt like her very first memories, she'd always been fighting. She'd already been exploiting weaknesses and carrying out executions long before she realized that she was even something worth love. She'd fought so much that she'd forgotten how to fight for herself.

Or maybe she'd never even known.

When you couldn't remember what you'd been before you became a monster, could you even truly say that that wasn't how you'd always been? Cyrus always said that she was only worth how many battles she won, always reminded her that it wasn't okay to cry.

And look at her now!

Crying on her knees, losing the very battle that she'd started for her freedom. For being the first time she was fighting for herself, it certainly felt like she was awful at it.

A machine that malfunctioned could be fixed, but though Mitsumi had once believed that a hunk of metal and bolts was all she was worth, she didn't want to anymore.

She didn't want to believe it.

She just wanted to be free.

But how could she ever break out when she was fighting against the very programming that had protected her? Her friends. Her teacher. Her world. Even before today she knew it was over, but that didn’t mean she’d been ready to bear what that meant.

[neko-naruto]

This... They made this?

Summary: Copen is aware that he really shouldn't be doing what he is, but he really can't help himself, and she left the book lying out in the open; unbeknownst to him, Haku is facing a similar dilemma.

Warnings: None!

Authors Note: This is a gift for @teseo-trolls-u using their OC Haku because I can and its nice knowing I'm not the only person creating for this fandom

He really should not be doing this, and he is highly aware of that fact, but... If you leave your journal open its free game, he tells himself that at least.

So here he sits at Hakus desk, reading a small, pink notebook full of poetry and confessions. He doesn't read the confessions, and he can easily flip past them as they usually have the word 'confess' within the first sentence. He truly can't help but take in every single word of the poems he's reading, all of it sinks in and he'd never be able to wash it out if he wanted to.

But he doesn't want to ever forget these, 'eyes a rich vino,' 'a thousand strands of silver,' 'shining like lode stars,' no, those are sticking with him forever. And it takes a few poems to realize what Haku was writing about, a few more than he'd admit, but when he does realize, he snaps it shut. Deep red rising higher and higher up his neck till it reaches his ears, it matches his eyes, he's internally shook at the words used to describe him.

'Vampire king,' 'hero of eternity,' 'slayer and savior,' he feels extremely, extremely, he doesn't quite know what he feels as he reopens the book and goes back a few pages. He didn't even think it possible for someone to use words to describe him in such splendor and a twisted sense of adoration, he only uses twisted because of one line.

('Even majestic bathed in crimson')

"Did she really write this?" Copen managed to mumble to himself, it wasn't loud enough for anyone but himself to hear, and he suddenly feels like he really shouldn't be where he is.

Entering someones room when they aren't around can be excused, something might've been in there. Taking a few moments to admire the items inside of the room, yeah, that could be brushed off. But actively sitting down and reading something that is most definitely extremely personal, that is one heck of a fuck up.

He's desecrating something sacred, a woman's privacy, but he can't force himself to stop reading and leave; another notebook labeled poetry catches his eye.

He's going to superhell, right now, he does not care.

---

She doesn't exactly think she shouldn't be doing this, because he left them out on the table, kitchen table, for all to see.

So she continues to flip through his sketchbook, some unfinished armor concepts, enemy tactics written in chicken scratch, there are some red pen notes here and there pointing to certain things; she doesn't care about that stuff to much. When she reaches the pages that truly highlight his artistic side, she slows down to really appreciate them, landscapes and portraits, always detailed to the mark, quite lovely.

She memorizes the images, never wanting to forget them, traces her fingers along details she enjoys, hoping it would help her remember the landscapes, she reads the footnotes as well. 'Met the Azure Striker here, he won,' she remembers hearing about that from GV, 'ate some really good food here, hence the sauce stain,' she brought her fingers to the splotch of soy sauce, dried and a light brown, 'I don't why I stopped here, but its a shame pencil can't catch its beauty,' she disagrees with the remark on the pencil. Then she reached the finished concepts and drawings of people she knew, her face heated up when she caught the first drawing of that category.

It was her in one of Copens hoodies, it was oversized on her, she looked like she was practically swimming in it, but he drew her in perfect proportion; she wasn't sure how she felt about that. It wasn't colored, it was shaded, like all the others, she still liked it, she checked the footnote, 'I'm giving her one of my hoodies soon,' she nearly melts. The next drawing, a picture of the Sumeragi school outfit, the edges are bolder, smudges are evident, he even added faint shackles, symbolism perhaps. The footnote reads 'she's to good for them, my assistant in the uniform of such a lowly foundation,' savage, amazing, open thoughts, she's never heard the such from him.

The third drawing, an armor concept, probably for Lola, she assumed it was for Lola given everything about it, but the bodice work wasn't like Lolas, no footnote. She flipped to next page, finer details on the previous pages works, it held a few notes for circuitry and supplies needed, a small footnote 'bikini armor, how low have I dropped' she smiled a bit. The next page had a drawing that looked vaguely like her, the hair at least, wearing said armor, there was a shading to emphasize what she presumed was a bodysuit. This time the footnote said 'fuck, would she even wear a bodysuit?' her face heated up, maybe he was talking about her? Naw, no way, he's far too cool for her, she pushed aside the train of thought to admire the colors, her favorite colors.

She went to close the sketchbook, but, a dog eared page, what could lie beyond it.

Haku spent a moment to think if this was a wise idea, after that moment, she flipped on.

She was gonna be killed if Copen found out about this.

---

Copen was heading down the halls, face red, gait hasty but steady, head down and one small notebook in his arms; he was going to lie to get out of this. He continued his search for Haku until he found her sitting at the kitchen table, flipping through his sketchbook, he was even more embarrassed. He cleared his throat and Haku snapped the book shut before turning to find him holding out the notebook, her notebook.

"I found your notebook in the hallways, I hope you don't mind, but I may have read a few of the poems, it was open when I found it," Copen lied, trying to keep his tone steady, Haku took the notebook, clutching it to her chest, "did, did you see the armor concepts?"

"Ah, yes, I'm sure Lola will love them," Haku said before gripping the sketchbook to hand to Copen, he took it, she deftly ignored the shade of his face.

"They aren't for Lola," Copen muttered quietly, he took note of the shift in Hakus expression before turning to leave, "I'll stop bothering you, thanks for finding my sketchbook."

Haku couldn't respond, words stuck in her throat as Copen walked away, unable to procure a coherent response.

She knew exactly what he meant.

How could she respond?