#it's late but better late than never am i right...

[qqueenofhades]

been seeing some responses to the many many lawsuits and other actions taken against trumpet and munkfruit that fall along the lines of "this isn't enough, it's already too late, you can't fight fascism with the law, we're all gonna die." i understand the fear, truly, but i'm curious as to your thoughts on it, as to me it seems like this sort of behavior/posting doesn't do much beyond embolden the narrative that everyone actually likes these bastards and they're too powerful to be stopped.

Welp. This is the kind of question that requires me to write a long and complex sociopolitical/critical/historical/Discourse-esque analysis that will take a while and which I am trying to do only selectively, but I'm at home on Saturday morning, I don't have anything else to do right now, and it does present me an opportunity to address some things I've been thinking about. So. We'll give it a shot.

The first thing that has struck me is that in a few short weeks, we're getting a sharp empirical disproving of two common online-leftist fallacies: one, the old "both parties are exactly the same" chestnut, and two, "the only resistance that matters is Violent Glorious Revolution" (which somehow and conveniently never happens). We had months and months of "Biden is just as bad as Trump!!!" being spread as gospel truth in online-leftist circles, and then when Harris took over, it switched just as seamlessly into "Harris is just as bad as [or even worse than] Trump!" Now, as I have said before, there were plenty of legitimate criticisms to make of Biden, particularly the Gaza policy (upon which Harris notably differed). But it's quite telling that the keyboard warriors who spent all of last year howling for The Righteous Punishment of Biden-Harris (regardless that the obvious ancillary consequence was letting Trump come to power) have either disappeared completely when it comes to dealing with the results of that rhetoric, or have switched to "everything is doomed so I guess we shouldn't bother anyway." Like. Trump is now proposing to fully ethnically cleanse Gaza and either blithely hand it over to Israel or build Jared Kushner Beachfront Resort Disneyworld, and what do we hear in protest? For the most part, crickets. These are not serious people. Their opposition is not morally consistent, and it only depends on how they can make themselves look good. I thought that Trump was somehow supposed to be magically better than Biden particularly on the Gaza issue, and that was why it was worth letting him get elected? Or something? Something!?!

I'm curious as to whether those people still legitimately think that Harris would have spent her first few weeks in office dismantling USAID, signing weekly anti-trans executive orders, unleashing ICE across the country and terrorizing immigrant communities, putting the Project 2025 guy in charge of the Office of Management and Budget, letting Elon Musk run rampant with Treasury data, nominating the likes of RFK Jr. and Tulsi Gabbard to Cabinet posts, trying to freeze all federal funding, stripping DEI initiatives, dismantle the Department of Education -- etc. etc. The thing is, as ghoulish as it is, none of this is a surprise, because it is literally what Trump and his people spent the entire presidential campaign loudly, openly, and repeatedly promising to do. However awful they were and are, they were not remotely secret about their intentions. That information was out in the open every time they opened their mouths. But too many people didn't pay attention, rationalized it away, decided that "he won't actually do that" (despite the fact that he launched a literal violent coup attempt on the Capitol the last time he was in office), or just made up their minds that Trump Will Reduce Grocery Prices and refused to listen to any information that countered that view. What do we get now? Trump laughing off the grocery-prices issue and insisting that it's "not a priority" and Musk managing to claim that the real problem is government spending, not corporate greed. Again, this was completely predictable, because y'all got willingly suckered. It was not hard to see it coming.

That said: if the Glorious Online Leftist Revolution is still coming, and by some lights we might now legitimately need it, where the fuck is it? Are they still out there banging the drum against Trump and his "let's ethnically cleanse Gaza" policy and anything else that they insisted, they swore up and down, was functionally equivalent or possibly even marginally better than Biden-Harris getting another term? No. They're either dead silent, offering weak excuses, or completely giving into "we're doomed there's no point fighting back through weak shitlib institutions that are obviously terrible and will fail" blubbering that makes no fucking sense. One, because they move the goalposts so constantly that there's not even any attempt to reckon with the last effects of their damaging bullshit, and two? As I said, where's the fucking Revolution magically coming to save us and install a perfect leftist utopia (which is never how revolutions have ever worked) and sweep away Government Tyranny? Is that only for when a Democrat is in office and you can have confidence that the government is not going to come after you in the middle of the night for talking about it? Now that there's an actual fascist in power, it's somehow too hard to resist at all, even in small, institutional, and everyday ways that are often far more effective at practically confounding the bad stuff instead of empty and useless online echo chambers, so guess we should all just give up??!

Fuck. That.

This is also why we have to talk about the catastrophic lack of information literacy and critical thinking skills in young leftist spaces. A good example is the recent migration of TikTok users to the Chinese app RedNote. It was sweet for a little while as there was cultural exchange and friendship and memes. But then, predictably, it dove hard into "ah, once again The Evil US Government Has Lied To Us and there are no problems at all in China!" I have seen posts float by on my dash that unironically claim this is the case and China is truly great and Americans should want to move there and clearly all that business about authoritarian control and mass repression was just a ruse by, again, The Evil US Government. If you are so utterly devoid of basic information literacy and research abilities that your standard of proof for "is the Chinese government repressively authoritarian and totalitarian" is "a random Chinese person on an app in a country where the Internet is viciously controlled and voicing the slightest criticism can make you disappear told me that it isn't," then for Christ's fucking sake, you need help. For one, it wasn't just the US government saying this. It was, y'know, Chinese dissidents, the entire nation of Taiwan, historians, academics, researchers, the Uyghur Muslims of Xinjiang, etc etc. If your only standard for believing or supporting anything is "the opposite of what the US government thinks," then you are perfect targets for authoritarianism. Hey, a person living under an authoritarian regime who will punish them if they speak out against it told me everything was fine! Clearly there's nothing to worry about and we should want it here in America!

Come on. Come on.

This is also the case because uneducated young leftists like to unironically label themselves "communists" or "Marxist-Leninists" as if it's cool and hip and has never been involved in anything problematic in all of history, so anything that calls itself that must be supported. Shoutout to the idiot in my notes recently who reblogged a several-year-old post just to shout at me about how historical communists NEVER worked with or collaborated with fascists, because something something The Communists Were The Pure Shining Good Guys! (Uh, nobody tell them about the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact.) Clearly, the Chinese Communist Party is good and beneficial, end of story, no more criticism or caution needed! Obviously, yes, official American policy toward China has often been driven by basic Sinophobia, and the determination that nobody can change American hegemony or unipolarity or its ability to call the shots how it pleases. But if that is the literally only criteria you're using, then yeah. If you're so unaware that "the Chinese people are ordinary human beings" and "the Chinese government is repressive and authoritarian" are statements that can and in fact do coexist, then apparently you've missed the situation you're in right now, where "the American people are ordinary human beings" and "the American government is repressive and authoritarian" is also the case. Because online leftism is essentially devoid of a consistent moral principle and will just blithely switch up to support Bad Things as long as they're being done by governments with the correct ideological label, here we are.

Anyway. This is getting long, but the main takeaway is that the "all resistance against Trump is doomed and I guess we just gotta die :(" line is now, somehow, often coming from the same people who were constantly yelling that the only hope was a Glorious Revolution against Biden-Harris, and it is somehow even stupider. So you'll trumpet about Gloriously Overthrowing The Government all the day long as long as a Democrat is in office, but the instant a Republican gets in there instead and starts acting like an actual fascist, welp, time to just shut up and accept our doom and not even bother to struggle? Please tell me how any of that makes sense. Especially when actively confounding the Trump/Musk Axis of Evil is already working. There is also the fact that the establishment-media types are supporting this narrative for reasons of their own; witness the fact that the entire US corporate media is owned by oligarchs who hastened to bend the knee and pledge fealty to Trump 2.0. They obviously also have a reason for inculcating hopelessness in you, and that the only recourse is to shut up, accept it, and let them continue to rob you blind. Because American democracy will never matter as much as money, power, and control for the Billionaire Bros.

The point is: this is a bad-faith narrative on all sides. Whether it's coming from the online leftists in their latest head-spinningly hypocritical volte-face, the oligarch-owned corporate media that wants to feed you constant Bad News to keep you clicking and worried and distracted and unable to resist, the Trumpist power that wants people to quit making this pesky stink about all their authoritarian fascist adventures, or anyone else. There is nobody who has your best interests at heart if they are telling you that everything is doomed and the only thing to do is lie down and take it. There is no logical reason you should listen to them. Go forth and keep resisting, in whatever way presents itself. Those cumulative small actions are far more effective than any Splendid Revolution that never, ever materializes, while the people who preach it just sit back and whine about how things are so bad now so clearly they couldn't. Shut up.

It is always important. It always matters. It will make a difference.

Courage, etc.

[alaia777]

IM SO SORRY I FORGOT TO SPECIFY IF I WANTED FLUFF OR ANGST😓😓 I want fluff😋

I requested rin (bllk) for "you really have no clue how to talk to women, huh?" OR "we should just run away."

i hope you like it! :’)

you’ve been dating rin for almost two years now, but you’ve known him for much longer—ever since kindergarten, when you told him football was stupid, and he immediately shot back that you were stupid. one “fight” later, your teacher forced you to spend recess together for a week, and somehow, you’ve been stuck with each other ever since.

so by now, it’s routine—annoying him, getting on his nerves, and watching him act like your presence is a burden when you both know he wouldn’t have it any other way.

you were the one who made the first move, mostly because you had a slight suspicion he liked you. you’d had feelings for him for a while, and the more you noticed the little things, the more convinced you became.

and when you finally told him, he had the straightest face ever—completely unreadable. except for his red ears. and the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed.

…yeah. you were right.

the only thing he told you after that was a simple “same,��� and the rest is history.

it might not look like it to anyone else, but to you, rin is the sweetest guy. sure, he has a hard time verbalizing his feelings, but you know he cares. it’s in the small things—like when he picks up your favorite beverage from the coffee shop, paired with whatever pastry obsession you’re into that week. or when he sets aside time every week to watch rom-coms with you, even if there’s a football match on tv.

and then, there are the little gifts. he never calls them sentimental, but you know better. every time he comes back from a city he was playing in, there’s always something small he picked up for you—sometimes a keychain from a place you both visited together, or a notebook from a city you’d talked about visiting but never had the chance to. each one of them has a connection to a memory between the two of you, something only the two of you would understand, and that’s what makes them so special.

but verbalizing it? he’s just not the best at it. rin’s pretty cutthroat with everyone, and even though he used to be like that with you when you were just friends, now that you’re more than that, he doesn’t want to risk it. he keeps his words to himself, always cautious.

so, when you’re getting ready for your date with him, it catches you off guard when he says:

“that is a dress.”

“yes. it is,” you reply, still not quite understanding his reaction.

“you’re wearing it.”

“yes, i am.”

you’ve worn dresses around him before, so his reaction is a bit confusing. “rin, what’s going on?”

“nothing,” he says quickly, avoiding eye contact, though you can tell he’s trying to say more.

“it fits you,” he adds, almost reluctantly, before quickly looking away, clearly not used to expressing compliments.

when you finally understood what was going on, you couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped out. “you really have no clue how to talk to women, huh?” you said, trying to stifle your giggles, but the more you tried, the more it looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor.

“that movie we were watching the other day, the girl said women like to be complimented by their boyfriends. i thought..” he trailed off, his gaze darting away. “i thought you might want that too.”

you raised an eyebrow, leaning back with a smirk. “oh, so now you’re using rom-coms for relationship advice, huh?”

he scowled, clearly irritated, but there was no mistaking the faint blush creeping up his neck. “shut up. don’t make this a big deal.”

you laughed again, unable to resist. “too late, rinnie. you’ve already made it a thing.”

rin let out a long sigh, clearly trying to hide his discomfort. “can we just go already?” he grumbled, glancing at you quickly before looking away.

you raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smirk. “what’s the matter, rin? never complimented someone before?”

he scowled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “i don’t do that.”

“right, you’re too cool for that.” you teased, arms crossed.

“i’m not, just, it’s stupid, okay?” rin muttered, still avoiding eye contact.

“so what was that about rom-coms then?” you pressed, enjoying his flustered state.

“i don’t need your sarcasm right now,” he shot back, clearly embarrassed but not willing to admit it.

you chuckled, stepping closer to him. “fine, let’s just go, rinnie. but you know, maybe you should try complimenting me more often. you’re not so bad at it.”

rin grumbled under his breath but you could see the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips, just enough to know he wasn’t really as annoyed as he was letting on.

“let’s go,” he repeated, his tone still blunt, but you could tell he was less annoyed than before.

you grinned, following him out, because even if he wouldn’t say it out loud, you knew he cared.

[prickly-paprikash]

i'm not even fucking american, nor am i black, and yet i am so unsurprised by the reaction a majority of white viewers did for Kendrick's halftime show performance.

tumblr's reaction was at least endearing, given the fact that it's the white fujoshi site, and even then a majority of the base extended understanding and patience for a trending topic they didn't get.

i'm just a brown idiot overseas, and yet the use of Samuel L. Jackson as Uncle Sam? the constant sarcastic, near-venomous contempt in the voice of Uncle Sam whenever he cut Kendrick's performance? the overt jabs against Drake masking the subtle hits Dot and team were pulling against, well, everything I've seen in america atm.

"the revolution will be televized... right time, wrong person"

tiktok is infested by white dudes reacting with open mouths at the performance, literally mouthbreathing at something they didn't and refuse to understand.

this whole thing was a fucking protest. and yes. it is still a product of capitalism. the fucking superbowl halftime show. the crowning jewel of american late stage capitalism.

so anything overt would be seen as trashy, virtue signalling and downright tone deaf.

so why not be subtle about it? why not craft your entire political message into something that will go over the heads of white cishet people that will never heed the cries of the destitute and impoverished.

again. i'm not black. i'm not american. i'm an outsider. and yet it is downright embarassing that some brown schmuck living in a country still recovering from american imperialism managed to get it better than the middling, balding caucasian who has lived the american experience all their life.

dude. it's screaming at you.

"Game Over. Warning: Wrong Way. 40 acres and a mule." please. media literacy is so fucking essential.

is it any wonder that when art, even under the throes of capitalism, had bite, it was immediately critiqued? look at how white conservatives are dogshitting on the halftime show. it is parallel to when hip hop was surging. before it was bastardized. before it was commodified.

it is vile. it is disgusting. their comments. their seething hatred for art that isn't made for them. isn't fashioned, brutalized, beaten and whipped into shape to be made tolerable for them.

kendrick got it.

[pixiexdusts-world]

Seven chances

Min ho Moon x ex!reader

Summary: Min Ho plans seven dates to win back his ex—and it just might work.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

I never thought I’d see Min Ho Moon again. Not after the way things ended between us.

The moment I spot him across the café, I freeze. He looks exactly the same—maybe even better. Same tousled hair, same confident smirk, same annoyingly perfect skin. But something in his eyes is different. I quickly turn my attention back to my laptop, pretending I didn’t see him.

I should’ve known that wouldn’t stop him.

“Hey,” his voice is smooth, casual, but I can hear the nerves underneath. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

I exhale slowly before looking up. “Min Ho.” I keep my tone neutral.

He doesn’t take the hint. Instead, he slides into the chair across from me without asking. Typical.

“How have you been?” he asks, as if we’re old friends catching up.

“Fine,” I say. “Busy.”

Min Ho leans back, studying me. I hate how easy it is for him to make eye contact, like we didn’t go months without speaking. Like he didn’t break my heart.

“I miss you,” he says. Just like that. No preamble, no hesitation.

I let out a short laugh. “That’s not how this works, Min Ho.”

He frowns. “How what works?”

“You don’t just walk back into my life and say you miss me,” I say, folding my arms. “You don’t get to act like nothing happened.”

His jaw tightens. “I know. That’s why I’m here.”

I glance away, out the café window, watching people walk by. It’s a crisp afternoon in Seoul, and the city feels like it’s moving faster than I am.

Min Ho sighs, rubbing his hands together like he’s bracing himself. “I messed up.”

“No kidding.”

He nods. “I hurt you. And I hate myself for it.”

I close my laptop, giving him my full attention. “Then why did you do it?”

Min Ho hesitates. “Because I was scared.”

“Scared?” I repeat, incredulous. “That’s your excuse?”

“I didn’t think I was good enough for you,” he says, voice quiet. “I thought if I let myself get too close, I’d end up ruining everything. So instead of losing you later, I pushed you away first.”

I stare at him. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I know,” he says, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “I’m an idiot.”

I shake my head. “You really are.”

There’s a beat of silence between us. I should get up and leave. I should tell him it’s too late, that I don’t care anymore.

But I do care.

And Min Ho, for all his flaws, is sitting here, admitting he was wrong. That’s not something he does often.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he says, his voice softer now. “But I want to try again. I want to prove to you that I’ve changed.”

I look at him carefully. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?”

Min Ho smirks, the familiar confidence creeping back into his expression. “Give me a week. Let me take you on seven dates. No expectations, no pressure. Just… let me show you why we were good together.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Seven?”

He nods. “Seven.”

I should say no. I should walk away and never look back.

But instead, I sigh. “Fine. One week.”

The grin that spreads across his face is enough to make my heart ache. Because deep down, I know the truth.

I never really stopped loving him.

Day One: The Ice Rink

Min Ho picks me up right on time, a smug look on his face. “You’re going to love this,” he says, leading me inside the rink.

I narrow my eyes. “You remember that I can’t skate, right?”

“That’s the best part,” he teases. “You’ll have to hold onto me the whole time.”

I glare at him, but when we step onto the ice and I immediately slip, I have no choice but to grab his arm. He chuckles. “Told you.”

Despite my frustration, I can’t help but smile. Maybe this isn’t the worst idea after all.

Day Two: The Bookstore

“I remember you used to spend hours in here,” Min Ho says as we step inside my favorite bookstore.

I give him a suspicious look. “You hate bookstores.”

“I hate reading,” he corrects. “Not bookstores.” He picks up a random book and flips through it, pretending to look interested.

I smirk. “You’re just trying to impress me.”

“Is it working?” he asks, grinning.

I roll my eyes, but I don’t miss the warmth creeping into my chest.

Day Three: The Street Market

Min Ho buys me tteokbokki from my favorite vendor, and we wander through the market, the scent of food filling the air. He tries to feed me a piece, but I swat his hand away.

“You’re so difficult,” he groans.

“You love it,” I tease before I can stop myself.

He grins. “I do.”

Day Four: The Beach

We sit on the sand, watching the waves roll in. Min Ho looks at me, his expression unreadable. “I don’t deserve you,” he says suddenly.

I sigh. “Min Ho—”

“I just need you to know that,” he interrupts. “Even if this doesn’t work out, I need you to know how much I regret losing you.”

I swallow hard. “You’re trying, Min Ho. That’s what matters.”

He nods, but I can tell he’s still scared.

So am I.

Day Five: The Arcade

Min Ho drags me to the arcade, his eyes full of mischief.

“Winner picks the next date,” he challenges.

We go head-to-head in basketball, air hockey, and racing games. He wins some, I win more (at least, that’s my version).

At the claw machine, he spends way too many tries before finally winning a small stuffed dog. He hands it to me, a little sheepish.

“For you.”

I hold it close, pretending it doesn’t mean anything. But it does.

Day Six: Karaoke Night

Min Ho books a private karaoke room, and I immediately regret saying yes.

“You just want to show off,” I accuse.

He winks. “Obviously.”

He belts out Love Scenario like he’s on stage, dancing like an idiot. I laugh too hard to resist when he shoves the mic at me.

“One song,” I warn.

By the end, we’re both breathless from laughing. He looks at me, eyes soft.

“I missed this,” he says.

I don’t respond. But deep down, I did too.

Day Seven: The Rooftop

Our final date is on a rooftop, fairy lights strung around us. The city glows beneath us, and for a moment, it feels like we’re the only two people in the world.

Min Ho turns to me, looking nervous for the first time. “Did I do enough?”

I exhale. “Min Ho…”

He shakes his head. “Wait. Before you say anything—I just need you to know. I love you. I never stopped.”

My heart clenches. “I know.”

He steps closer. “Do you still love me?”

I hesitate. Not because I don’t know the answer, but because I do.

“Yes,” I whisper.

Min Ho lets out a shaky breath. “Then let me be better for you.”

I bite my lip. “You already are.”

His lips crash into mine, and just like that, I know—

We’re going to be okay.

[thefrontmanscockwarmer]

Hi I LOVE how you write!!!!

Could you do Fluff In ho x reader where reader lives with her parents but they have a bad relationship where they don't treat her right and are always making coments about her and her body and one day after a right reader calla In ho crying saying she can't take it anymore and begs In ho to take her away and he is at reader's front door in less than 10 minuts and decides that reader is saying with him and make reader feel better and forgets about all the thing that they said about her. thanks <3

Somewhere In the Middle

Player 001 x reader [FLUFF] 🎀

Masterlist <- comment here to be added to the Taglist

You’d met In Ho a while back at a birthday party, some colleague of your dads. He stood by you at first, sipping slowly on his champagne while you did the same.

“Some party, huh?” He whispered to you. You nodded, smiling back. “Hello, I’m Hwang In Ho, I don’t believe I’ve seen you at the station before, are you new?” You laughed,

“No, my dad is (l/n) (f/n)” you pointed to your now drunken father who was dancing with your mom. His smile shining brightly, a good mask he was wearing.

“Oh! He never mentioned a daughter as beautiful as you” he said with a shocked expression. You looked down, you didn’t feel beautiful.

“Thank you”

That was then. Now, you almost 19 and still in high school, your late birthday holding you back. You walked inside and set your shoes quietly on the rack.

“Well, look who it is” your mother sighed, looking at your soaked body and clothes. “You missed dinner”

“You didn’t wait?” You asked hurt. You shouldn’t be surprised.

“No, of course not. You’re always late. And you’re soaking my floor. Go to your bedroom. Get those clothes off before you ruin the rest of the house” your mother spat harshly. You weren’t always late, it was raining. The buses were full, the trains were full. You had walked 10 miles to get home. In the pouring rain.

“While you’re at it, can you make sure your room is picked up? It’s an eyesore” you dad added from the table.

“My door is never open” you answer.

“Don’t talk back.” Your father whipped his head to look at you. “Such a wretched girl” your heard him mutter as you shuffled past. Your clothes stuck to your skin.

You returned a moment later. Looking through the fridge and microwave for food. Your mother eyes you carefully.

“Dinner is gone. We finished it” she said pointedly. You dropped your shoulders. Looking at her sorrowfully.

“You didn’t save me any?” You nearly cry. This was the third day in a row that you had barely eaten.

“No, we didn’t. You weren’t here on time, dinner is over. You know the rules, late for dinner nothing for the rest of the day” she answered.

“B-b-but, I haven’t eaten in three days, ma” you tell her. She shrugged.

“You should eat more” your father spoke. “You’re too thin, not attractive.”

“No, she’s too fat. Not attractive.” Your mother countered. She pulled up your shirt, pointing to your visible ribs and pronounced pelvis. “I suppose you’re right.

“How am I supposed to eat more when you don’t save food for dinner or wait for me?” You ask. Your feelings hurt as you snatched your shirt down.

“You know the rules (y/n)” your dad sighed looking back at his newspaper. “Figure it out”

“Dad! Are you being serious?” You question. “You guys are terrible parents” you utter quietly.

“What did you say?” Your father said as your mother gasped.

“I said you guys are terrible parents” you say with determination and walk away, leaving them before you broke down in tears. You threw yourself onto your bed, snatching your phone quickly. Failing the only number you knew.

“Hello?” In Hos voice came through the phone.

“In Ho…” gasped through your tears. “I need you to come get me. They’re terrible, I haven’t eaten in days, I’m starving” you began ranting through your tears.

“I’m on my way” was all he said. You awaited his arrival, only grabbing your backpack phone and charger. A text came in five minutes after the phone call ‘I’m here’ is all it said. You left your room, walking past your parents, ignoring calls of your name.

His car sat idol in the rain as he stood by your door. You ran and jumped into his arms, sobbing hard in his shoulder. He rubbed your hair gently, coaxing you with soothing words.

Timeskip:

You lay curled up into him. Players of food surrounding you, cans of coke scattered on the bedside table. Sighing heavily as you watched Fast and Furious.

“When do I go home?” You ask him with tear filled eyes.

“You’re not going back there” he said, his eyes burning yours with an intensity that you felt in your soul. “You will never go back there. They’re terrible don’t treat you right, you’re underfed, your clothes are raggedy, you’re too young and beautiful” he gently kissed the top of your head.

“I’m not beautiful” you mumble.

“Yes you are. You have always been beautiful. Ever since I first met you, you’ve always been beautiful. You are attractive, you are what I need in my life.” He said with finality. His words echoed in your heart. Reverberating through your body. I am beautiful. You repeated to yourself.

Taglist:

@christinamadsen @sebbymybaby21 @player279achlys @galaxygurlll @whamzou @watasinekoru @angelofthorr @amandalol1414 @supersonika143 @cathers-world @motchipotchi

[ivyues]

Chasing Yesterday | 1 | - Bang Chan

Bang Chan x lost connection trainee friend

Years after splitting paths, Bang Chan didn't expect a simple text to bring an old friend – and old feelings – back into his life.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

The training rooms smelled of sweat, determination, and dreams that didn’t come easy. Chris always lingered a little longer than the others, his eyes fixed on the mirrors, wondering if his reflection would ever transform into someone worthy of debut. For years, it was the same – watching friends reach their dreams while he stayed behind, burdened by doubt.

There was also you. You weren’t just another trainee to Chris. Sure, you were a hard worker, someone who matched his relentless pace, but you were also his anchor. Late-night conversations about dreams, shared snacks in the practice room, and bursts of laughter after a particularly tough day made the grueling years bearable. He never told you about the way his heart would race when you smiled at him or how your encouragement after his failures felt like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. He kept that silly little teenage crush away, afraid to ruin what you two had.

But around the time Han joined the company, you decided to leave. The dream of becoming a K-pop idol didn’t burn as brightly for you anymore, and while Chris understood, he hated losing yet another close ally. One day, you were practicing next to him and the next day, you were just… gone.

The years passed. Stray Kids debuted, and Chris threw himself into his work, becoming the leader his members needed him to be. Life moved on, but every now and then, in quiet moments, he’d wonder what you were doing. 

It wasn’t until one day, years later, when he was catching up with Sana that your name came up.

“You remember Y/N?” Sana asked casually over coffee, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Of course, I remember her,” Chris said with a small smile. “It’s been years, though. I haven’t talked to her since…” His voice trailed off, the memory bittersweet. “I wonder how she’s doing.”

Sana grinned. “Funny you should say that. I got her number recently. Want it?”

Chris blinked, startled. “Her number?”

“Yep,” Sana said, sliding her phone toward him. “Go on. Text her. She’d probably love to hear from you.”

That night, Chris sat on his bed, your number staring back at him from his phone screen. He hesitated, typing and deleting messages, his nerves getting the better of him. Days passed before he finally worked up the courage to text you.

“Hey, this is Chris. Sana gave me your number. It’s been a while. How have you been?”

Chan hit send and immediately regretted it. What if you didn’t reply? What if you didn’t want to talk to him at all? He set his phone down, trying to distract himself, but every buzz made his stomach flip.

A few hours later, his phone lit up.

“Chris as in Christopher Bang Chan?”

He smiled, relief washing over him as he quickly typed back. “Yeah, it’s me. This is Y/N, right?”

Your reply came almost instantly: “Yeah. It’s been ages! I can’t believe you’re texting me!”

Chris hesitated for a moment, his thumbs hovering over the keyboard, before replying, “I’ve missed you. I hope you’re doing well.”

There was a brief pause before your next message arrived: “I am, thanks. You too. I’m proud of you. I’ve watched your MVs – You’ve come so far.”

The thought of you keeping up with his career sent a rush of warmth through him. He stared at your message for a moment, rereading it before typing back. “I wouldn’t be here without you. You know that, right?”

Your reply came with a teasing tone that made him laugh out loud. “Once you’re famous and living the idol life, you forget to text old friends, huh? 😜”

“Hey, I’m here now!” he shot back.

And just like that, the ice was broken. Over the next few days, your texts became constant – snippets of your lives, fond memories of the trainee days, and playful banter. It felt like no time had passed, and yet, in some ways, everything had changed.

One day, Han caught Chris grinning at his phone in the corner of the dorm. It was rare to see their leader so visibly relaxed, much less smiling to himself. Intrigued, Han leaned in, nearly giving Chris a heart attack.

“Hyung, who’s got you giggling like that? Is it someone I know?”

Chris scrambled to lock his phone. “It’s nothing, it’s just...an old friend. Do you remember Y/N from when we were trainees?”

Hearing him say your name, Han’s curiosity only grew. “Not really, but you were pretty close right? Hyung, why are you just texting? You should meet her. It’s been years, right? I bet she’d love to catch up.”

Chris hesitated. Meeting you in person? That thought felt heavier than he expected. He wasn’t sure why.

“Hyung.” Han’s tone softened, sensing his hesitation. “You’ve told me stories about her. She meant a lot to you back then, right? What’s stopping you?”

It was a question Chris couldn’t easily answer, but it nudged him to act. A few days later, after much internal debate, he texted you.

“How about coffee this weekend? There’s this café I like. We could catch up properly.”

Your response was quick and enthusiastic: “I’d love that! Let me know the place and time.”

-----

The café was warm and inviting, its earthy tones and gentle lighting creating a cozy ambiance. Chris arrived first, nervously fiddling with his phone as he waited. He hadn’t seen you in years, and the thought of reconnecting stirred a mix of excitement and anxiety. Would he recognize you? Would it feel the same as it did back then?

When the bell above the door chimed, Chan looked up, and there you were. You hadn’t changed much, and yet, you looked so different. The teenage girl he remembered had matured into someone who carried themselves with quiet confidence. Your smile was the same, though, lighting up your face as you spotted him.

“Chris,” you greeted, and the sound of his name in your voice felt like a time machine.

He stood, unsure whether to hug you or shake your hand, but you made the decision for him, pulling him into a warm embrace. “It’s been forever,” you said, pulling back to look at him. “You haven’t changed.”

Chris chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “You have – in a good way. You look… happy.”

The two of you ordered drinks and found a quiet corner. The conversation started easy – catching up on the basics, sharing stories from your lives since those trainee days. But as the initial excitement settled, the mood grew more reflective.

“Do you regret it?” Chris asked suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was soft, but his gaze was intense, searching your expression for any flicker of doubt. “Leaving the company, I mean. Giving up on… that dream.”

You took a sip of your coffee, considering his question. “No,” you said finally, your voice steady. “I don’t regret it, Chris. After I quit I realized that I was chasing something that wasn’t really mine to chase. I think I was trying to prove something to myself, or maybe to others.”

You paused, hesitating before continuing. “I realized after I left that the dream I really wanted… it was never an option for me. Producing music, having creative control—it was never going to happen as a girl in a girl group, not in that company, not at that time. They had a mold, and I didn’t fit into it. Once I understood that, it was like a weight lifted off my shoulders. I stopped trying to be someone I wasn’t.”

Chris’ eyes softened, a flicker of something unspoken passing through them. “That… must’ve been tough to come to terms with.”

“It was,” you admitted. “I was angry for a while, at myself, at the system. But after I left, I started to see that it wasn’t the end. There’s more than one way to make a dream come true, and the path I’m on now—it feels right for me. I’m happy where I am.”

Chris nodded, processing your words. “You always seemed so sure of yourself back then. I guess I just… I admired that.”

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. “I wasn’t as sure as you think. But thank you. That means a lot, coming from you.”

There was a moment of quiet, the café’s gentle hum filling the space between you. Then Chris tilted his head slightly, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Do you still do music? Like creating or singing?”

You smiled, the question sparking something warm in you. “Yeah, I do. It’s just a hobby now, though. I write and sing at home when I feel like it. It’s… different from before, but it brings me a lot of joy.”

“That’s great,” Chris said sincerely. “I’m glad you haven’t let it go completely. Music was always such a big part of who you are.”

You nodded, your fingers tracing the rim of your coffee cup. “It still is. But right now, I haven’t really been doing much with it. I just moved back to Seoul recently, so I’m still settling in. Once things are a bit more stable, I’d love to dive back into it.”

“You moved back?” Chris asked, his eyes lighting up. “How long ago?”

“Just a couple of months,” you said. “I wanted a change, and Seoul felt like the right place to be.” Then, after a brief pause, you added, “You know, once everything’s in order, you should come by sometime. I’ve been meaning to show someone my music setup—well, when I finally unpack it all.”

Chris’ eyes widened slightly in surprise, then softened with a warm smile. “Yeah? I’d like that. It’d be nice to hear what you’ve been working on since.”

“It’s nothing fancy – no chart-topping masterpieces” you said quickly, brushing off the compliment with a wave of your hand. “But it’s always fun to share it with someone who gets it.”

“I’d love to,” he said, his sincerity unmistakable. “Just let me know when you’re ready. No rush.”

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting golden light through the café windows, the two of you lingered, caught in a space that felt timeless. There was something comforting about reconnecting, about seeing the ways you had both changed and grown, yet still finding the same thread of understanding that had tied you together all those years ago.

pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4 | pt.5 | masterlist

[angstywaifu]

If I Catch You - Garrick Tavis

A/N: This was meant to be a Kinktober fic, but better late than never right? We can just pretend it's still october.... Thanks to the anon who sent me some unhinged Garrick thoughts that finally pushed me to write this. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Stalking/Chasing. Pet Names. Praise. Dominant Garrick. Oral M Receiving. Fingering. Slight choking. Masterlist | Links

“Bloody hell Garrick! You scared the crap out of me.” I squeal as he chuckles at my reaction.

”Not my fault you’re so damn jumpy.” He teases as he reaches around me to get a drink, his other hand coming rest on my hip, his fingers grazing the exposed skin where my shirt has ridden up.

I can’t help but shiver at his touch, craving more of it despite how he’d scared me. If anything, I’d like how he’d scared me. And as he turns his attention back to me, I can tell he notices. His eyes focusing on mine while a knowing smirk graces his lips. There had always been this tension between Garrick and I. One neither of us had pushed further than some implied comments and small touches here and there. But at the end of the day we both ended up in someone else’s bed.

“You snuck up on me, hardly my fault.” I tell him as I grab my own drink.

”No, but something tells me you liked it.” He murmurs into my ear, causing me to shiver in response.

Gods he knew how to work me up. It’s like he could read me like a damn open book. But with how my body was reacting to him it really wouldn’t be hard to tell what he was saying was working. And he was good at reading my bodies reactions.

”And what make’s you so sure about that?” I say as I turn and face him, trapping myself between him and the table.

His eyes slowly take me in, taking his time as he looks me up and down. I hate how much it makes me want to squirm. Give into whatever he wants to say. I’d like to blame it on the alcohol that we’re all drinking, but this is all Garrick. Finally he drags his eyes back to mine, looking into me as if to gauge my reaction.

”Your body gives you away little one. Your body shivering at my touch.” He moves his free hand back to my hip, his fingers grazing over the exposed skin again and making me shiver and lean into his touch. Shit. “Your eyes are glossy and blown out, something you only do when something turns you on. And you look like you’re about two seconds away from pulling me up to your room.”

I square my shoulders, doing my best to not show him how right he is. “Maybe there’s someone else I want to drag up to my room Tavis.”

He chuckles and smirks down at me. “I’d believe that but you’ve not talked to a single male tonight besides me, and I know girls aren’t your thing. So what do you say little one. Want to have some fun tonight?”

He’d given me a head start. Something I wasn’t sure I needed, but as I get to the path leading down into the forest I am suddenly very glad for it. I hadn’t been down here since my first year for Threshing. During the day it was beautiful down here. The forest lush and vibrant with colour. But now in the pitch black, it felt like I was being watched. Like danger was waiting behind a tree for me. Not danger. Garrick. He could be anywhere down here once he came after me. And I had stopped trying to keep track of how long it had been. Which meant he was after me.

*”Five minutes. That’s all you get to get as far away from me as you can.” His voice low and husky as he steps into me, raising his hand to cup my cheek.

”And what happens if you get me?” I ask nervously, my body tingling with the anticipation of what's to come.

The smirk he gives me should have me running and getting help, but instead if sets my whole body alight. ”I get to do whatever I want to you.”*

I pump my legs harder at the thought of him coming after me. I wanted him to catch me, but I wasn’t going to make it easy for him. To catch up to me he would have to run to. Something I would surely hear behind me due to his size. I should be quieter. There was no telling if anything else was out here with us. Dragons generally only came down here during Threshing. That I knew of. But there was no guarantee they avoided this place any other time of the year.

I turn my head to look over my shoulder to see if I can catch any glimpse of Garrick, but I don’t. And the choice costs me as my foot catches on a tree root, pitching me forward and crashing noisily to the ground. My momentum sends me rolling along the forest floor. Sticks and leaves catching in my hair as I roll along the rough ground. I put my hands out, pushing me to my feet as I look around hastily. I can’t see him, meaning I still have a chance. Still have the head start despite my incident. Though with how loud my heart is beating it’s hard to hear if he is gaining on me. Thunder claps over head as rain starts to fall from the sky. Great, now I’d have no chance of hearing him. I take deep, long breaths in an effort to calm my racing heart and chill the fuck out. I strain my ears as I slowly walk forward, trying to hear for any twigs snapping or foot falls. I hear rustling from my right, snapping my head to the right. Lighting streaks across the sky, illuminating the trees. But no one is there. Shit. He had me on edge already.

I set off in my original direction, trying to get as much distance between where I was. I might not have seen Garrick, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t there hiding out of sight. As I jog forward a twig snaps to my left. But yet again when I turn to look there's nothing there. Another snaps to my right. Nothing there. Again. I was starting to think there was something else out here with me. But rustling ahead has my head whipping forwards, just as a large shadowy figure emerges from a tree far ahead of me.

There was no way. He had given me a five minute head start. How the hell had he gotten past me. Surely I would have heard him. He would have had to run past me to get that far ahead of me. I turn and run with everything I have. Pushing myself as fast as I can to get away from him. But somehow despite the distance he steps in front of me, his hands grasping my upper arms tightly a I crash into him. I push on his chest, doing whatever I can to get away from him. But he’s far stronger than me. He’s probably barely breaking a sweat. As if to solidify my thoughts he spins me around, pulling my back to his chest as he wraps an arm around my hips, pinning me to him. His breath fanning over my neck, causing heat to pool between my legs.

”You did good little one. But you can’t get away from me. I will always find you.” He whispers in my ear, nipping lightly at my neck causing my to gasp and arch into him.

Despite knowing I’m caught, and want to be caught I still struggle against him. Doing what I can to get away and start the chase again. But as his hand goes under my shirt, trailing up my stomach and palming my bare breast. I can’t help but moan and relax into his touch as he rolls my hard nipple between his fingers. Fuck. He uses the distraction to spin me around to face him, gripping my thighs as he hooks my legs around his waist before dropping to his knees, causing me to yelp in shock. He grabs my wrists, easily grasping both of them in one of his hands as he pins them above his head while he pins my hips to the ground with his. He adjust his position, his hips rolling into mine and I can’t help the way my body arches off the ground and the moan that escapes my lips.

“Someone’s needy.” He murmurs from above. “And to think, not long ago you were trying to tell me it was someone else getting you all riled up.”

”Maybe I’m imagining you as someone else.” I tease as I roll my hips against his, a sharp hiss coming from him.

He leans down, his nose barely touching mine. “When I’m done with you, you won’t want anyone else but me little one.”

I open my lips to respond, but instead a gasp comes out instead as he takes a dagger and cuts my shirt open right down the middle, exposing me to him and the cool night air. He releases my hands as his roam my now exposed torso, pulling the ruined shirt from my body. His touch is sending me into a frenzy, craving and wanting him more. He leans down and places kisses up my exposed stomach, lightly nipping at the skin as he makes his way up to my neck. I moan as he kisses the sensitive skin there, but a breathy scream leaves my lips as he bites down on my neck. My hand flies up and tangles in his dark curls, keeping him buried in my neck as he moves to the other side.

He moves away, resting back on his knees as his hands move to the ties of my pants. His fingers making fast work of it before moving to my boots. Also making quick work of those before tossing them to the side and removing my pants with ease. I reach out to undo his pants, but he swats my hand away instead. Message loud and clear. He’s in control. He shrugs off his flight jacket, discarding it to wherever the rest of my clothes have gone before rolling up the sleeves of this black shirt.

I can’t help but take him in. Despite the fact he’s fully clothed, I can’t help but admire him. There was something about a guy kneeling between your legs, looking over you with all the control that just did things to me. I’m pulled from my thoughts when Garrick’s fingers slide between my legs, parting me for him as he slide a finger into me. I cry out as I arch my back off the ground, my legs hooking around him again, locking him in place as he adds another finger, and then another. Pumping them in and out with ease as he brings me closer and closer as I start trembling beneath him, starting to come undone on nothing but his fingers. His thumb reaching up and rubbing circles on my clit, biting my lip to muffle to moan. Fuck. I was already a mess and he’d barely touched me. I was doomed once he fucked me properly. Garrick curls his fingers inside me, as if beckoning my body to come undone. And it does. I cry out as my body goes rigid, my eyes slamming shut at the intense feeling, moaning out his name as I come undone on his fingers. He continues his pace, using his fingers to prolong the orgasm he pulls from me. Eventually he pulls his fingers from me, causing me to whimper at the loss.

”On your knees.” He tells me, my eyes opening to see him standing before me.

I nod, shakily pushing onto my knees as I look up at him. Watching as his hands move to undo the pants he’d stopped me from undoing earlier. I nearly choke on my breath as he pulls down his pants, his hard cocking springing free from its confines. Holy shit. I’d heard rumours about Garrick, but seeing it in person was very different. My mouth waters as I take him in. He reaches out, grasping my chin as his thumb brushes over my lips. He pushes on my lips, my mouth opening with ease as he slides his thumb in, my lips clamping around it as I suck on it, rolling my tongue over the tip. He pulls it back, a pop echoing in the now eerily quiet forest.

”You ready little one?” He asks as he grasps his cock in his hand.

”Yes, sir.” I say, now using the fact he out ranks me against him.

I part my lips as he pushes the tip against them, causing me to gag around his size. I feel his body vibrate as he groans as the feeling, forcing his cock deeper. I tentatively bob my head back and forth, getting use to his size, using my hand to take care of the part I can’t find in my mouth. It’s not long before Garrick’s hips take over, thrusting in and out of my mouth, causing me to rest my hands against his thick thighs. I roll my tongue over the tip when he pulls back, a guttural moan coming from him. His hand grips my hair tightly causing me to hiss around his cock as he holds my head in place. It’s the only warning I get before he starts fucking my mouth. The tip of his cock hitting the back of my throat as I moan around him. I hollow my cheeks, causing his hips to stutter as I suck on his cock, rolling my tongue around him when I can.

”Fuck, that’s it little one. Doing so good.” He murmurs above me.

He continues to give me words of encouragement, but I barely register them over the lewd sounds coming from my mouth. I nearly choke around his cock as he crouches down a little bit, the hand not tangled in my hair grasping my neck, making my feel every inch of him down my throat. Something tells me he can feel himself fucking my throat as he moans loudly above me, his pace picking up. Tears sting my eyes as he pushes deeper, my throat constricting around him. Seconds later Garrick’s body goes rigid as his hips stop, his body leaning forward as he leans a hand against the tree behind us, his body twitching as he comes undone.

Garrick steps back, his cocking popping free as I sag back to the ground, scooting back as I close my eyes and lean back against the tree and catch my breath. I shudder as Garrick’s hands grab my leg, but I relax when I feel him sliding my clothes and shoes back on. Well what’s left of them. I no longer had a shirt after he cut it from my body with his dagger. I open my eyes as his fingers caress my cheek, Garrick crouching in front of me as he holds his jacket in his hand. His fingers trail down to my shoulder, tugging on my shoulder as he pulls me away from the tree. He drapes the jacket over my shoulders before placing my arms in the sleeves, securing the jacket around me as best he can to cover me.

”You did so good little one.” He murmurs as he caresses my cheek. “Don’t get lost on your way back.”

I blink and when I open my eyes Garrick is gone, leaving me alone and desperate for more

[moleshow]

Dear Sub-Human Filth, I'm appealing to all of you stupid idiots to vote Democrat in 2018. That is if you have the basic education enough to read a ballot, anyway. I understand the majority of you racist rednecks can't even read this post, though. But those who can, please pass my message on to the rest of your inbred family. We Democrats are morally, culturally and intellectually superior to you in every way. I will qualify myself by noting that I have a Liberal Arts degree from a college, which you obviously have never been to, if you even know what one is. I also have a black friend. I have been told by several professors that everything you hold dear is terrible. Therefore you, personally, are also terrible. I don't know you, but I know that you're racist. I also know that you hate gay people and still get scared during lightning storms. The religion which you hold closely, greatly believe in, and which brings you comfort--you are wrong because I'm smarter than you and I'm telling you so. It is one of the many reasons why you are stupid and I'm better than you. You see, us Democrats want a system which helps everyone in the world. Our system is designed around love and kindness to everyone. If you don't agree, I hate you. It's not too late to change. If you knew your history, which of course you don't, you'll remember a time in America when Indians were dragged away from their homes and forced to assimilate into white society. Well, we want to change that kind of behaviour (sorry for my spelling, as I'm not from your country) by making sure you go to college and have a small apartment in a big, busy coastal city, where you belong. That will help you rid yourselves of your backward, incorrect culture and way of thinking. We'll do everything we can to make sure you agree with us and say all the right things and not be brainwashed against thinking the same way we do. All of you stupid, backward, redneck, racist, homophobic, uneducated yokels need to realize we're trying to build a classless society where we all get to live in harmony with each other, where we're all equal. If you only understood that you wouldn't be so much worse of a person than I am. So please vote Democrat. Help me help you, you worthless motherfuckers

[kikyoupdates]

Changing Plotlines ⭑˚💞⭑ 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟

yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, isekai

A desperate cry on your deathbed leads to you being given a fresh start at life. You're overjoyed at having finally obtained a healthy body and a real chance at living normally, only to discover that you've been transported into a yandere game, where danger lurks at every corner. Determined to protect your new life at any cost, you vow to stay as far away from the major characters of the game as possible. But things don't always go as planned.

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“Honestly, I thought you would’ve given up by now,” Sergei sighed.

“What? Of course not,” you frowned. “I’ll have you know I’m very serious about this. Look, I’ve even been practicing!”

You proceeded to swing your wooden sword with visible enthusiasm, making cutting motions left, right, and center.

Needless to say, he wasn’t impressed.

Today marked the second day of your lessons with the kind-hearted knight who ended up meeting a gruesome fate. Naturally, you had no intention of getting ahead of yourself. It wasn’t as if you expected to become some sort of prodigy overnight. But every effort counted, and the more you practiced, the better equipped you were to defend yourself if something went awry. After stupidly letting your guard down and helping out Flora, you needed to keep up with your training, now more than ever.

“So?” you huffed, wiping the sweat off your forehead. “What do you think?”

Sergei’s brows were creased. He looked like he was searching for the right words to say.

“I think that you have absolutely no talent with a sword.”

Okay, well he clearly hadn’t found the right words, because ouch.

“You’re so mean,” you whined. “This is only our second lesson! Don’t you think it’s too early to jump to conclusions? Of course I’m not going to be great right off the bat. I’m only a beginner. Were you immensely talented from the get-go?”

“Yes,” Sergei said calmly. “My talent is the whole reason I decided to become a knight.”

“Ugh. Okay, that’s beside the point. What I’m trying to say is that someone can suck at something at the beginning, but that doesn’t mean they can’t improve one day.”

“I agree with that,” Sergei acknowledged. “I’m not saying that you can’t learn, but from what I’ve seen, it’s already quite clear that this isn’t the sort of activity that will come naturally to you. Everyone has different types of skills. Why not take up a hobby that you might be better suited towards? It could save you a lot of frustration, and sword-fighting really isn’t the sort of thing a lady like you will ever have any use for...”

But I can’t learn something else. It’s not like I’m doing this for fun. I need to make sure I’ll have some way of protecting myself.

Obviously, you couldn’t tell him that for you, learning to use a sword was absolutely essential. So, you did what you did best. You lied.

“As I’ve told you before, I am a very prudent woman,” you said.

Sergei snorted. Okay, rude.

“Lately, I keep having nightmares of criminals attacking me in the middle of the night, and I can’t do anything but quiver helplessly. I refuse to be helpless,” you frowned. “I never want to end up in the sort of situation where I just cower in fear and hope for the best. I want to take charge of my life and fight until the very end.”

“This seems to be an ongoing concern of yours,” he remarked, looking a touch concerned. “Being cautious is all well and good, but there is such a thing as worrying too much. If you’re really so afraid, why don’t you just make sure to take a personal guard when you go out in public?”

“Yes, I can do that.”

“So, then...”

“But if they fail to protect me, then I’m right back to square one.”

Sergei shook his head in disbelief. “Alright, alright. If training with a sword will really help to put your worries to rest, then I suppose it’s the least I can do for you. But you really should know that the odds of you getting hurt, especially if you aren’t on your own, are remarkably slim. Infinitesimal, even.”

Ha. You’d be surprised.

“Yes, I know,” you said, mustering a smile. “But this really does make me feel better about the whole thing. I feel powerful, even though I realize I’m far from it yet. And now I have the added challenge of becoming so good that you’ll be forced to eat your words. Hehe.”

“At the very least, your enthusiasm is certainly admirable,” Sergei chuckled.

Right. That was all you had, really. Enthusiasm. And fear. Fear for your life. With such emotions driving you forward, you were certain that you could somehow compensate for your lack of athletic abilities.

As proof of your readiness to train your butt off, you swung your sword several times in quick succession, building up a noticeable burn in your arms. Sergei wasn’t saying anything, just watching you in silence. It didn’t matter if you sucked. Hell, you knew you sucked, but that still wasn’t going to change the fact that you were going to do this, no matter what.

“Lady [Name], please stop,” he eventually said.

You looked back at him in confusion. “Yes? Am I doing something wrong?”

“You’re doing many things wrong, but that’s not what I was getting at. How would you like to try using a real sword today, just to get a feel for it?”

You could hardly contain the grin that burst across your lips. “Really?!”

“It would be good to try,” he nodded. “If the point is to protect yourself, a wooden sword won’t do much to achieve that. It was just to get you a bit familiar with the length and girth of the weapon you’ll be holding. Keep in mind that the real thing will be quite a good deal heavier, though. It will be difficult to adjust to at first.”

“That’s totally fine!” you babbled, eager to finally try out the real thing. You’d never held a sword before. It was difficult to even find swords back in your previous world. All of this was to learn how to protect yourself, but it was still so exciting!

Sergei bit back a smile. “It’s not that amazing. But I have to admit that it’s quite amusing to watch you react so expressively.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re amused. C’mon, gimme!”

“You certainly don’t speak like a noblewoman, though... anyways, here you are. Be careful. Don’t move too suddenly with it.”

He gently placed the hilt of the sword in your hands, with the blade pointed downwards. You couldn’t feel the full weight of it yet, not while Sergei was still gripping it as well.

But then he let go. And the sword fell to the ground.

“Ouchie!” you squealed, frantically shaking your wrist. “My hand nearly broke!”

Sergei clamped a palm over his mouth. “Pfft... n-no, you’re just exaggerating. I did warn you, my lady. Perhaps you were just surprised. Care to try again?”

You grimaced, cheeks glowing bright red. Okay, maybe you were exaggerating just a bit, but that thing was heavy as all hell! In the interest of staying as safe as possible, you knew wielding a sword was practically crucial, but you were slowly realizing that it was an even bigger obstacle than you’d once presumed.

“I can do it,” you huffed, crouching down to pick the sword back up. “It’s okay. I have muscles. Weak, underused ones... but they’re still muscles!”

Sergei was trying not to laugh at you—and failing horribly, at that.

But by some miracle, you managed to pick the sword up. Granted, you had to hold onto it with both hands, and the strain it was placing on your wrists was enough to make your arms shake, but you were actually holding a sword. God, you felt like such a badass!

“I-I’m amazing,” you said, grimacing in between breaths. “Showstopping, incredible, phenomenal. S-Super epic... ugh, I just can’t anymore!”

You dropped the sword once again, sighing in relief. Okay, so it was a work in progress. Strengthening your wrists would likely be crucial. Maybe you could practice by repeatedly opening jars.

“Good effort,” Sergei mused, flashing you a thumbs-up. “It was—pfft! —very entertaining."

“Well, I’m glad one of us enjoyed it,” you eye-rolled.

“Weren’t you going on earlier about how you’d make me eat my words? Surely the weight of the sword isn’t enough to make you quit?”

“I have no intention of quitting,” you reassured. “That being said... is it all possible to make my own sword? One that’s a bit lighter? I’m not as tall or strong as you. I can have one personally customized to better suit me, right?”

Sergei nodded. “Yes, you can have one made by a blacksmith. If you provide him with the rough dimensions of the sword, and what sort of materials you’d like to have used, I’m sure he can craft one that’s more comfortable for you to use. It still won’t be too light, not if you want it to be sturdy enough to deal damage, but you can figure out the details and strike a good balance between what you’d like to achieve.”

“Is there a particular blacksmith you recommend?”

“As a matter of fact, there is. Remind me to write down his name and some other details for you later.”

“Alright. In that case...” You picked up the wooden sword instead of the real one, smiling sheepishly. “Um. Until I have my personal sword made, I’d like to stick with this one, if that’s okay...”

Sergei was clearly holding back the urge to laugh again. “Whatever you say, Lady [Name].”

“Back to training I go,” you hummed. “Watch this! Consecutive wooden sword slashes, but at a dizzying speed. Hyah!”

“Again with the battle cries...”

Even if you were still a noob in the purest sense of the word, over time, your body was bound to adapt. You were intent on getting by through muscle memory alone. Besides, as far as you knew, only two of the yanderes were proficient sword-fighters themselves—namely, Triston and Friedrich. So long as you were armed, and they weren’t, you would probably stand a chance.

Point being, it was best not to skimp on your training. Even if you probably looked like a fool flailing around all over the place.

Still, it was certainly tiring swinging a heavy wooden sword continuously. With every motion, you could feel your arms progressively turning to jelly. Coupled with the fact that it was so hot out, you were really starting to break a sweat.

“Time out,” you groaned, throwing your sword down. You tried to fan yourself off with your hand, but it wasn’t doing much good. This goddamn tunic was making you burn up. It needed to go.

So, you proceeded to get rid of it, stripping your outermost layer and exposing the thin camisole you had underneath. The relief was almost immediate. Granted, it was still hot as hell, but your skin could finally breathe now.

“L-Lady [Name]!” came the horrified splutter. You turned to find Sergei gaping at you in disbelief, several shades redder than he’d been a few seconds ago.

“Yes?” you frowned.

“You can’t just get undressed like that all of a sudden! Please remember that you are in public!”

He looked away in a hurry, and you had to admit, it was kind of cute. In the game, Sergei made every effort to act the part of a knight. He was sometimes guilty of being too serious, although he eventually came to let his guard down around Flora, after falling for her gentleness. From what you recalled, he’d never been much of a joker, yet in the few interactions he’d had with you, you’d already gotten to see him laugh it up plenty of times at your expense. And now he was even blushing. It was refreshing to see such different sides to a character you liked.

But honestly, you didn’t really get what the big deal was. The camisole was pretty thin, sure, but it wasn’t all that revealing. A tiny bit of cleavage and bare shoulders, but that was about it. Back in your world, people showed plenty of skin, so you definitely weren’t used to such an innocent reaction. Your case especially was rather unique. Countless doctors and nurses had seen you butt naked before, so something like this hardly fazed you.

Watching Sergei get increasingly flustered was rather amusing, though.

“You can drop the title, you know,” you chuckled, still fanning yourself off. “Just [Name] is fine.”

“No, I really mustn’t,” he insisted. His face was buried in his palms, and it almost seemed like he was itching to move them out of the way and steal another peek, but his willpower remained undaunted. “This is already quite improper... and you allow me to speak to you so casually in the first place. Now, please, will you get dressed?”

“Aw. But it’s way too hot out. I’d rather keep practicing like this.”

“Lady [Name], what you have on leaves almost nothing to the imagination. Please, for my sake, I’ll ask that you cover up again.”

“Prude,” you muttered under your breath. Alright, alright. You could sort of understand that this was set in a different time period, with different standards and all that, but you were really struggling to feel modest given your previous lived experiences. Guess that was yet another thing you’d have to get used to here.

With a great deal of reluctance, you put your tunic back on, cursing the fact that they didn’t even have air conditioning in this world.

“You can look now,” you announced. “Rest assured that my breasts are back in their rightful place.”

Sergei gritted his teeth, still red as a tomato. “In the name of all that is holy, I am literally begging you to stop.”

“Hehe.”

“Don't hehe me!”

It was safe to say that Sergei was too embarrassed to look you in the eye for the rest of your training session.

Cedric Lightsteel, huh?

You stared down at the piece of paper in your hand. It was the name of the blacksmith Sergei had personally recommended to you. Sergei spoke very highly of him, so you didn’t doubt that he’d be able to craft you the perfect sword. Once you’d obtained a weapon tailored to suit your needs, you were confident that your skills would improve astronomically.

Anyways, things were looking good. As expected, it felt good to plan everything out in the event that you got caught up in something dangerous. Based on the natural progression of the plot, you still had plenty of time until the yanderes began exhibiting their dangerous tendencies—not that you planned on ever seeing any of them again.

There had been a little hiccup with Flora, sure, but you’d ignored her letter. By now, you were confident that she would’ve gotten the message. Even if you did feel really shitty about it.

“Man, I’m pooped,” you yawned, stretching your arms out. Living in a healthy body really was incredible. You’d worked your butt off today, and you were definitely tired, but it still didn’t even come close to the fatigue you experienced every single day back in your old life. Even with minimal activity, you’d been in a perpetual state of exhaustion back then. You slept just about always, lied around doing very little when you were awake, and your body struggled to do even that much.

It almost made you want to cry. The fact that you actually got to live like this now. That was why you needed to hold onto it with all your strength.

You decided to unwind by taking a nice, hot bath. Modern day luxuries were certainly missing in this world, but that just meant that you had more time to enjoy the simple pleasures in life. You could even feel some of your vigor returning to you as you soaked in the delightful bubbly water. You’d trained for hours, but with this body, it felt like you’d be good to do the whole thing all over again after just a little bit of rest.

Sighing happily, you eventually decided that you were squeaky clean and stepped out of the tub, wrapping a towel around your body.

Then, you walked back into your bedroom.

Only to find a strange man sitting on the bed.

“Ah,” he smiled upon locking eyes with you. “Did you have a nice bath? I was waiting for you to finish. Come, let’s have a chat."

Unsurprisingly, you screamed.

More chapters are available on Quotev!

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💞 main masterlist ♡ character appearances

[dutchslytherpuff]

I am 19 days late but I will spill some beans, since there’s no better way to learn how tumblr works than to actually interact with stuff haha.

Beans I’ll spill come from Signed, R.A.B., more specifically they come from Chapter 9: The Empty House, which is not yet published but hopefully will be soon-ish.

It's set during spring 1969. The boys are home alone, and Sirius knows just what to do with the adults gone and the house to themselves. Regulus is... not so sure:

‘What if they come home? What if they catch us breaking even more rules? We’re not even supposed to be out of our rooms!’

‘Well, if they come back, we’ll just run back to our rooms and pretend we’ve been there the whole time.’

Regulus bit his lip. It didn’t sound like a very good idea.

‘Oh, come on, Reggie! It’ll be fun! We could play duelling, or act out the Goblin Rebellions. Or—’ His face lit up. ‘We could get out the broomsticks!’

‘I’m not going outside again! Not after last time.’

‘We’ll fly in here. Oh, please, Regulus, just this once!’

Sirius was practically jumping up and down in anticipation of flying across the house. Regulus, however, still wasn’t convinced.

‘We’re not allowed to fly inside.’

‘They’ll never even know,’ said Sirius. ‘What are you so worried for?’

Regulus crossed his arms. ‘I won’t do it. It’s forbidden.’

‘Oh, come on! This is a once-in-a-lifetime thing. Besides, you need practice. You still wobble too much when you turn.’

‘I do not!’

‘You do – but we can fix that. If you come fly with me, that is.’

Regulus sighed. ‘I don’t know …’

‘Yeah, you do,’ Sirius said. ‘You know you want to have some fun!’

Regulus sighed. There was something thrilling about the idea.

‘All right,’ he said, for the second time that afternoon, and he really, really hoped he wouldn’t come to regret it.

He followed Sirius back up the stairs to the topmost landing and he got his own broom from his bedroom. They stood out near the stairs now, both straddling their brooms.

‘All right,’ Sirius said. ‘First one to do ten laps around the chandelier wins.’

Regulus eyed the ornate chandelier hanging from the ceiling above. ‘But what are we playing for?’

He raised his fist as if celebrating a spectacular win. ‘For eternal glory!’

Regulus rolled his eyes. ‘That’s not a real prize.’

‘Fine. Winner gets to pick what we do next.’

That was better. However, he didn’t have time to say so, because Sirius kicked off the ground and rose up to the ceiling. He already began to circle the chandelier.

Regulus pushed off. He wobbled slightly at first, but the broom held steady, floating a few feet above the floor. He saw Sirius shoot past him, reaching out as if to touch one of the ornaments – but he pulled away just in time, laughing.

Regulus leaned forwards, gripping the broom tightly as he urged it higher. He had to win. If only so he could stop this nonsense. There was no knowing what Sirius would want to do next.

Sirius was faster, but Regulus was more precise, and he could easily fly between the dangling crystals without touching them.

‘Show-off!’ Sirius called.

Regulus grinned. ‘Jealous?’

Sirius veered sharply to the left, circling around Regulus before diving at the stairs. ‘Race you down!’

‘But we were going to race around the chandelier!’ he called back. ‘This isn’t fair; you’re already ahead!’

Sirius only laughed, pushing his broom faster.

Regulus chased after him, determined not to lose. He angled his broom lower, matching Sirius’ speed as they sped down another flight—

BANG.

Regulus barely had time to process what had happened. One second, he was flying. The next, Sirius had collided with the staircase, and he and his broomstick tumbled down the rest of the steps.

Regulus followed quickly, tossed his broom away when he reached the floor below, and rushed to his brother’s side. ‘Sirius!’ he called, kneeling beside him. ‘Are you—’

Sirius sat up, grinning. ‘I win.’

And I suppose this is where I tag people in return. @interstellar-jay you’re up (if you want to) (and anyone else who sees this I guess) (not sure how this works but oh well).

New Year, New Snippet

Thanks to @magicbeings for tagging me! A little snippet from an upcoming chapter of eruwod, featuring stupid boy humour and Snape as their rightful friend.

“I passed!”

Evan tossed the Prophet aside and immediately rose as Barty ran straight into his arms.

“You passed! That’s amazing and entirely unsurprising!” Evan replied, catching the incoming whirlwind that was Barty and spinning him into a kiss that quickly turned steamy enough for Snape to groan.

“Must you shove your happiness in my face? You’re awfully inconsiderate,” Snape said, rash back on his face.

Evan gave him the middle finger. “You could be a bit more considerate to my eyes as well and do something about that face of yours.”

“Aw, Rosier my love,” Barty pouted. “Don’t be a meany to Snape. It’s not his fault his mum is blind and shagged a trout.”

“Trout is new, I thought it was a bat?” Evan said.

“Was thinking of the eyes,” Barty explained, and they looked Snape up and down.

“Yes, brilliant. Suck on these,” Snape replied, throwing up both his middle fingers.

“Is what your dad said to your mum when he flashed her his fins,” Barty cackled.

Tagging @this-small-boat, @torturedpadfootdepartment, @claudthecat, @arcticmist0324 to force them to share a snippet!

[haengbbokie]

Yechan ☆ Stuck MV

[giccix]

Through the Valley

[calciferstims]

I swear I’ve been meaning to gif this precious girl ever since we first got her all the way back in 2023, but I just never got around to it, soooo… I guess now you guys just get gifs her as a puppy AND as a big girl 😅 consider it a bonus <33

anyways this is our Bernese mountain dog named Summer and I love her so so much 🫶🫶🫶

please link to this post if you use my gifs!!

[pinkd3mon]

Hello, if you’re still taking drawing requests?? I just finished forgotten land and there’s so many thoughts in my head abt it lol. Could you draw Kirby, bandana and elfilin sitting at the cafe eating something?

Also you don’t have to draw this one but a friend and I joke that elfilin eats like fecto forgo lol (bc of the no mouth)

Thankyou so much!!!

He's a quirky little guy (gender neutral)

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

Prompt: "What are you doing?" - "Making a snow angel."

Pairing: Azul Ashengrotto x GN!Reader/Prefect/Yuu

Genre: Fluff

TW: NA

"Prefect?"

The familiar, slightly raspy voice had you smile as you turned to look at a bleary-eyed Azul.

Dressed in his pajamas and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, your boyfriend squinted at your fully dressed form in confusion.

"Where are you going?" He asked, voice raspy. He must have woken up after feeling the lack of your warmth in bed beside him. Azul walked down the last few steps, sluggishly making his way to you.

You smiled brightly, earning a slightly smaller yet entirely enamored smile from the octo-mer. You reached out for him, one hand smoothing down his hair which was sticking up in all directions, while the other caressed his cheek. Azul closed his eyes in bliss, pressing his lips to the inside of your wrist before repeating his question.

"I wanted to play in the snow, but you seemed so peaceful sleeping that I didn't want to wake you up," you hummed. Azul opened his eyes, turning his head just slightly to look outside a window, where he could see a blanket of white covering everything. "Oh," he mumbled, before looking back at you.

Azul wasn't the biggest fan of snow, or winters for that matter. The biting wind would rob his skin of its moisture, making him feel more uncomfortable in his human form. Being pelted with snowballs and almost buried alive in the snow by the Leech twins during their first year at NRC had also stripped him of any joy he could have felt at the sight of the semi-solid water.

But Azul knew you loved the snow. He had heard you speak at length about how you would have fun and play in the snow with your friends back in your world. Even Jade had remarked on your enthusiasm for it after your trip to Epel's hometown.

"You should go out and play in the snow if that is what you wish for," he spoke as he fiddled with your scarf around your neck. "I'll make us some breakfast in the meantime."

"You mean brunch," you corrected him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. Azul's gaze shifted from you to the wall clock, which showed that it was 10:30 a.m. The grey-haired boy shook his head, smiling to himself.

"Ah, pardon me. Brunch," he hummed, eyes carefully assessing your condition to make sure that you wouldn't freeze out in the cold. "I'll call you in when it's ready."

You beamed at him, quickly pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek and leaving a flustered octomer behind as you rushed off to play in the snow.

Azul sighed as he placed the final dish onto the table. Pride bubbled in him as he saw everything that he had made for the two of you to enjoy, the meal sure to be hearty and healthy.

Now it was only a matter of getting you inside.

Azul grabbed his coat, scarf and gloves from the cupboard beside the entrance, putting them on properly before taking a step out in the cold. The wind wasn't as sharp today, yet the chill in the air had his ears and cheeks turning red.

Azul looked out at the snow, trying to make out where you were. He finally found you lying on your back, moving your hands and legs up and down in the snow.

"What are you doing?" He asked, amusement coloring his voice as he walked over to you. You gave him an absolutely delighted smile as you looked up at him, showing no signs of getting up as you answered his question. " I'm making a snow angel."

"A snow angel?" He raised his eyebrow at you, helping you up when you reached out your arms to him.

He helped dust the snow off your clothes, gloved hands gently patting down as you looked at your creation with pride. Azul was amused by the expectant glint in your eyes when you turned to look at him, showing off your artwork as you asked, "What do you think?"

"It's beautiful," he answered, with no hesitation, eyes glued to your face.

"You didn't even take a good look at it!" You chuckled, playfully shoving him. Azul smiled, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close to him.

"Anything you make, is a thing of beauty, my dear Prefect," he hummed, pressing his lips against your cheek. "I don't need to see it to believe it."

For once in his life, Azul thanked the cold for allowing him to disguise his reddened cheeks as a mere consequence of the chill in the air as you turned to look at him. His eyes softened as you laughed at his words, before he pulled you back to Ramshackle, eager to get some food in you before you continued playing in the snow.

[thebirdandhersong]

Lol