#like I know the comics just fail to remember this constantly

[i-never-forgot]

What Aimilios doesn’t realize is that Ribbons can’t fucking read (/j)

“Ohh Bidoof has a Journal!” “Sunflora has a Diary if you go into her room”— WHAT ABOUT PARTNER???

[pucksandpower]

I’m Not Jealous!

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: you’re definitely not jealous of how your boyfriend and his teammate are eye-fucking each other … nope

Note: thank you to the brilliant @struggling-with-drivers for this amazing idea, I love you so much ❤️

You can’t take your eyes off Lando and Oscar as they chat animatedly in the McLaren motorhome after qualifying. The way they lean towards each other, the spark of energy crackling between them, the bright gleam in their eyes — it makes your chest tighten with a strange jealousy.

They’re so wrapped up in their conversation, casually touching each other’s arms for emphasis, that they don’t even notice you approaching. You clear your throat pointedly.

“Oh, hey babe!” Lando glances up with a warm smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He’s still buzzing from the adrenaline of the session, and you know how much he lives for these intense post-qualifying debriefs with his teammate.

Oscar throws you an acknowledging nod but doesn’t break his intense eye contact with Lando. “We were just going over the data from ...”

You cut him off with an impatient wave of your hand. “I don’t care about the data. Can I talk to my boyfriend for two seconds?”

Lando blinks in surprise at your curt tone but recovers quickly with a teasing grin. “Someone’s feeling jealous.” He slides an arm around your waist, pulling you against his side with a gentle squeeze.

You stiffen, hating how easily he can read you sometimes. “I am not jealous.”

“Uh huh, sure.” Lando rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Then why are you pouting like a petulant child?”

“I’m not pouting!” You protest, very much aware that your lower lip has surged into an exaggerated protrusion. You shoot Oscar a venomous glare when he fails to stifle a snort of laughter.

Lando laughs too, that bright, infectious giggle that somehow simultaneously melts and irritates you. “Aww, baby, you don’t have to be jealous of Oscar. We both have girlfriends, remember? You’re my one and only.”

He kisses your cheek with an audible smacking sound, as if to emphasize his point. But the reassurance doesn’t land — if anything, it makes you more prickly.

“Doesn’t feel like it when you two are constantly eye-fucking each other,” you grumble petulantly.

Lando blinks, his smile faltering briefly into an almost comically exaggerated expression of surprise. Then he exchanges a loaded glance with Oscar, the two of them breaking into wide grins.

“What?” You demand, feeling your cheeks flush hot with embarrassment and irritation. Did you really just say that out loud?

“Nothing, nothing,” Lando says quickly, still grinning wolfishly. “It’s just … eye-fucking, huh? Is that what you think we’re doing?”

“Well it certainly looks like it!” You retort, frantically trying to backpedal. “With all the intense staring and lingering touches and private jokes ...”

Lando’s grin stretches even wider, if that’s possible. “You’re just jealous because you want my undivided attention, aren’t you?”

Your mouth drops open, scandalized by his blunt words despite how accurate they are. “I … no!”

The protest rings pathetically hollow, even to your own ears. Lando sees right through you, as always. He cups your burning cheek, tsking softly.

“Aww, baby, you’re all needy and flustered now, aren’t you?” His tone is warm, almost purred, sending a shiver rippling through you. “It’s okay, I get it. Who could resist wanting every second of my time?”

You huff out a petulant breath, but it’s impossible to stay irritated when he’s gazing at you with such open affection. “You’re an ass.”

“Maybe.” Lando shrugs cheerfully. “But I’m your ass.” He leans in until his lips are brushing your ear, voice dropping to a hushed murmur. “And tonight, I’ll be giving you every second of my undivided attention.”

A full-body shiver races through you at the heated promise in his tone. You’re abruptly, acutely aware of Oscar watching this whole exchange with a smirk.

“Get a room, you two,” he drawls, not even trying to hide his amusement.

Lando barks out a laugh, pulling back just enough to wink roguishly at you. “Don’t mind if we do.”

“Wait, here? Now?” You squeak out, suddenly flustered all over again as he takes your hand and starts tugging you toward the back of the motorhome.

“Why not?” Lando flashes you a cheeky grin over his shoulder. “I told you, baby — I’m all yours tonight. No more sharing me with anyone else. Just you and me.”

He pauses with his hand on the doorknob to the private room, giving you a slow once-over that makes your skin prickle with delicious heat.

“And I plan to give you my complete … undivided … attention.”

The husky emphasis he puts on those last few words sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You can’t resist stealing a quick glance over at Oscar, who has the decency to look away with a badly concealed smirk.

Then Lando is hauling you through the door and slamming it shut behind you, pressing you up against it as his mouth instantly finds yours in a searing kiss. You melt against him with a breathless moan, all thoughts of jealousy evaporating like mist as his hands roam hungrily over your body.

When you finally break for air, Lando’s eyes are dark with a blazing intensity usually reserved for the racetrack. He brushes a few stray strands of hair from your flushed face with uncharacteristic tenderness.

“You have nothing to be jealous of, you know,” he murmurs gruffly. “Oscar’s my teammate, my rival, almost like a brother to me … but you’re the love of my life. You’ll always come first.”

The raw sincerity in his words steals your breath. You can only nod mutely, suddenly blinking back stupid, overwhelming tears of relief and adoration.

Lando seems to understand. He just smiles that heart-melting smile and guides you toward the small sofa, settling you onto his lap and burying his face in the crook of your neck. His arms wrap snugly around you, holding you close, making you feel deliciously secure and wanted.

“I’m sorry I got jealous and petty,” you mumble, tentatively running your fingers through his sweat-damp curls. “I know how intense your connection with Oscar is on the track. I was just being stupid ...”

“No, no.” Lando cuts you off firmly, pulling back to meet your gaze. “Your feelings are never stupid, baby. If I made you feel like you had to compete for my attention, that’s on me.”

He punctuates his words with a soft, lingering kiss that deepens into something hungrier and needier when you clutch at the back of his neck, wanting him closer, closer ...

Some indeterminable time later, you reluctantly break apart, foreheads pressed together as you both pant for breath. Lando brushes his nose against yours, his eyes practically glowing with devotion.

“I really do love you, you know,” he murmurs, almost shyly. As if he hasn’t already made that abundantly clear a million times over. “More than anything. Or anyone.”

You hum contentedly, snuggling deeper into his embrace. You can feel the steadiness of his heartbeat, a reassuring counterpoint to the pleasant ache of desire still thrumming through your veins.

“I know. And I love you too.” You pause, tracing the line of his jaw tenderly. “Even when I’m being jealous and ridiculous.”

Lando throws his head back with a rich peal of laughter that warms you all the way to your toes.

“Good thing I love you even more when you’re being jealous and ridiculous, then,” he quips, sticking his tongue out impishly.

You swat at his shoulder with a scowl that quickly melts into a reluctant grin, unable to stay annoyed in the face of his boyish charm and unabashed affection.

You know, deep down, that you really don’t have anything to be jealous of — not with the way Lando holds you close and gazes at you like you’re the only person in the world. Still, it’s reassuring having the confirmation out in the open.

You snuggle deeper into his chest, basking in the comfortable silence and closeness. Lando’s fingers idly trace patterns across your back as you breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the sharp tang of adrenaline.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he murmurs eventually, breaking the peaceful quiet. There’s a rare vulnerability in his voice that makes your heart squeeze. “This life … the racing, the fame, the constant pressure … it would all be meaningless if I didn’t have you by my side.”

You tilt your head back to study his earnest expression, struck by the depth of emotion simmering in his warm multi-colored eyes. Impulsively, you reach up to cup his cheek, marveling at how easily he leans into your touch.

In these unguarded moments, it’s hard to reconcile this open, sensitive soul with the fierce, single-minded racer who commands a global spotlight. You feel extraordinarily privileged to be one of the few people who gets to see Lando like this — soft, devoted, his heart laid bare.

“You’ll never have to find out,” you whisper back fiercely. “I’m not going anywhere, Lando. I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me.”

His smile is blinding, making your breath catch. Then his lips are on yours again, kiss brimming with a potent mixture of gratitude, need, and sheer adoration that steals your breath.

When you finally break apart, twin smiles of pure contentment tug at both your mouths. Lando loops his arms loosely around your waist, hands splaying across the small of your back as he simply holds you close and takes a moment to drink you in.

You watch the play of emotions flit across his expressive features — affection, longing, bone-deep satisfaction at having you here, now, anchored in his embrace. A sense of peace and belonging washes over you, chasing away any lingering shadows of jealousy or doubt.

This is where you belong. This is your heart’s home, right here in Lando’s arms, sharing his joy and success and weathering the storms alongside him. A love like this — passionate yet grounded, all-consuming yet secure — is worth fighting for.

You may occasionally get prickly twinges of irrational jealousy. You may bicker and tease and test each other’s patience to its limits. But at the end of the day, you know there’s nowhere else either of you would rather be.

Lando seems to read your mind, his grin taking on a distinctly smug edge as his fingers trace deliciously distracting patterns along your spine.

“See?” He murmurs. “Eye-fucking the teammate is all well and good … but this?” He punctuates the words by pulling you flush against him, letting you feel the undeniable evidence of his arousal. “This is what I really want. What I’ll always want, baby.”

You can’t resist rolling your eyes at his signature cockiness, even as you melt against him with a soft hum of contentment. Typical Lando — somehow managing to be both charming and infuriatingly self-satisfied at the same time.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble, unable to keep the goofy smile off your face. “I get it, casanova. Now shut up and kiss me already.”

His answering laugh is pure sunshine, bright and carefree. Then he’s pulling you down into another heated kiss, effectively silencing any lingering self-doubt or jealousy.

This — the two of you, tangled up in each other with no barriers or secrets, just pure affection and insatiable desire — is what true love feels like. And you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

[sohnric]

gold stars – e. sohn

pairing: eric sohn x fem! reader

genre: friends (idiots) to lovers au. fluff. a sprinkle of hurt/comfort in some parts, a hint of college au!!

wc: 9.3k

warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing, mention of toxic family behaviors, a joke about a praise kink. eric is an embarrassing loserboy but i love him sm

listen to: risk by gracie abrams

where everything eric sohn does is search for your approval, and where you reward him with a gold star sticker for every act of kindness. will you ever see him as more than just a friend?

a/n: thank you best friend @csenke for beta reading as always (i miss you deeply btw</33). also thank you @from-izzy for brainstorming with me and listening to me while i gushed about this silly fic idea. thanks @strayed-quokka lennon for giving me eric's insta username idea i will keep using it from now on in all fics AHAHA TT

If Eric was asked to pinpoint the exact moment where he started to rely on your validation, he wouldn’t really be sure of his answer. The truth is, somewhere deep inside of his soul, he knows the yearning has been there ever since he can remember, but the instance that is rooted in his memory as the core one– the one that made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, like a teenager in love for the first time (which he wasn’t! Nor a teenager, not in love for the first time… right..?) – was one Thursday afternoon after he came home from taking his last exam of the semester to find a message from you waiting in his Instagram DMs. 

Breathlessly clicking at the notification (and now, this should’ve been a sign of his growing feelings for you), he is welcomed with the sight of you sharing a post with him. Wholesome, but still a little silly, a picture of a yellow star poorly drawn onto a white background waves at him, the words ‘congratulation the stress didnt abolsultly kill u’ written in the Comic Sans font on the inside, making him giggle. Despite the typos and the poor grammar, his heart squeezes on itself, shaking his head at your adorable antics as he shoots you a quick message as a thank you. You’ve been helping him with the studies for the last couple of weeks (if constantly yelling out “you will murder this exam, Sohn’ and laughing at his miserable face counts as support), so it’s even more heartwarming to see his friend still be so supportive of him even after the hell already ended.

@ damnsohn [5:11 PM]: thank u i will now need to receive gold stars for everything tho

And see, he wasn’t really thinking before sending that message. He just needed to convey his gratitude without sounding too overly eager– without sounding too infatuated with your sheer existence and the validation of his efforts. (Failed)

What he didn’t expect was for you to actually follow up on his request. 

To make things even better, you pulled through with physical reminders. The poorly drawn golden star landing into his Instagram DMs was just the start of the habit you fall into with Eric Sohn, the man whose love language is words of affirmation– without him even realizing it. And so, what started out as a wholesome, innocent joke, now turned into a recurring thing that is slowly, but surely making the boy go absolutely insane.

The first time he receives a physical golden star sticker is one day when he comes over to your place to watch a movie with you. You made a list full of iconic films you haven’t seen before– a list you get clowned for at first dates with any man that is pretentious enough to talk about his love for Quentin Tarantino (Eric told you to stop going on dates with the aesthetic, ‘indie’ looking men you find on Tinder) – and little by little, you try to get through it with the help of the rest of your friend group. Since everyone gets bored easily of mediocre films they’ve seen before, Eric is the one that spends the majority of movie nights with you– and that’s only because he’s the only one that doesn’t mind watching the Titanic for the fifth time already, if it means he can spend some time with you.

“You brought popcorn?” you gasp upon his arrival, gazing at the plastic bag in his hold, eyes big and full of stars– one would say you were looking at your first love. You weren’t– it was just a salty treat. Isn’t that every girl’s first love, though?

“Yeah,” he nods.

“Pre-popped?” 

“Pre-popped,” he agrees as he takes off his shoes behind the door, watching as you jump up and down in excitement, taking the big bag out of his hands.

“I like it pre-popped the best, oh my god,” you hum, hugging the huge bag like it’s a teddy bear, going as far as pushing your cheek against it, making your face turn into an adorable pout. “They are a little stale and softer and–”

“And the salt is really settled into it’, yeah, I know, Y/N,” he snickers, finishing the sentence he’s heard you say about a million times already– he starts to wonder if you have short-term memory loss and don’t remember telling him every time you walk by the cinema. (And that’s a lot of times, since Sunwoo’s dad owns the place. Sometimes, Sunwoo makes Eric be his own delivery man– he would deny on most occasions, but ever since he learned that bringing Sunwoo his lunch to work means he can take home a bag of cinema popcorn, the one that admittedly, always tastes the best, he doesn’t complain much– he can use the stale bag as a leverage to make you do about anything.)

“Oh man,” you sigh, “aren’t you a dream. I was going to wait for a more serious occasion, but wait, let me just–” you say, running quickly into your room. Eric doesn’t question your antics, figuring out that he will know the reason for your disappearance soon enough anyway, and allows himself into the living room. Two cans of coca cola and a chocolate bar are already waiting on the coffee table, alongside the TV remote, and while he passes the couch and opens one of your kitchen cabinets to fish for a bowl to put the popcorn in, he hears your socked feet rumble against the floor, announcing your arrival.

Once he takes the big bowl he’s sure he’s seen you puke in before after a wild night out and settles it onto the kitchen counter, the bag of popcorn comes back into his view as you lazily throw it into the white plastic, still closed and sealed, waiting to be opened. As his hands move and go to rip it open, meaning to pour the snack in so you two can share while you watch the next movie on your list– which, just for the record, Eric never asks the title of before, afraid it might make him less excited for the movie night– you put something onto the back of his hand, giggling.

Eric curiously stops his movements, gazing at his own skin. There, shiny and glittery, is a sticker attached to his limb– a yellow star sticker, to be exact, making him look at you with a dumbfounded look, eyebrows furrowed, but lips still sealed into a wide grin.

“That’s a gold star for remembering my favorite snack,” you point, flicking his forehead as a way of swatting him away from you so you can open the bag yourself, “and for bringing it.”

When Eric doesn’t give you any coherent reply– despite his brain operating on a thousand miles per hour, thoughts just swirling around and silencing any rational words– you only laugh at his face, your nose scrunching in that adorable way that makes him want to reach over and squish both of your cheeks in between his fingers, crying out. 

“Wow, I didn’t know you were so serious about this,” you sigh, snickering. Eric was going to bring up the fact that you were the one serious enough about the sentiment to buy a full roll of star stickers to give him on various occasions, some more serious than others, but he kept his silence in fear of getting this advantage taken away from him. He doesn’t think he’d survive it. “If you manage to not eat the entire bowl before the movie starts, I’ll give you another one. Come on,” you call for him, body already disappearing back into the living room.

Eric follows you like a lost puppy. If he had a tail, at this moment, he would’ve been waggling it. After he drops to the sofa, he notices the movie paused on the TV in front of him to be none other than Dirty dancing. With a sigh, he recognises that he’s seen it about five times already with his mother and sister, and so he spends the hour and a half gazing at the star on his hand instead.

The next few stars he receives are gifts of a similar manner. Half-serious, but still enough to make Eric’s heart leap in his chest at your recognition.

One day, he says a joke in the middle of the conversation that nobody really appreciates. And see, it’s not really unexpected– he was already aware that his friend group doesn’t appreciate good humor– but the dead silence he receives after the lame joke still makes him feel kind of awkward. That’s only until he is greeted with the sound of your muffled chuckle, though– which is of amusement at the situation, and not his joke, just for the record– and the sight of you ruffling around your pockets. You take a roll of stickers out of your jean jacket, and before he knows it, a star sticker is glued onto his phone case, right in the corner of his phone laying screen down on the table. 

“A gold star for trying,” you hum, making the rest of the group holler out a laugh at the casual bullying, “not as bad as last time, keep it up, buddy.”

Eric gets red in his cheeks. When he looks up from the dark wood of the dinner table, he is met with the sight of Sunwoo and Juyeon looking at him with shit-eating grins on his faces, wiggling their eyebrows at the very obvious reaction Eric has at the half-assed praise. The boy wonders if you’re the only one that hasn’t noticed yet, or if you just don’t really care about the effect you have on him. The star sticker stays glued to his phone case at all times, though, even when it’s worn-down and peeling off at the edges.

Another gold star is won from you one day when the semester starts again and you two meet up in the library, working on your respective essays. Each of you major in a different thing, so there is not much actual help shared other than underlying emotional support, and despite the coffee Eric brings you upon his arrival and the bag of chips resting on the table waiting for you to munch on them, which you refuse to touch before you finish a segment of your essay to ‘motivate yourself’, as you say, he can see you’re still a bit stressed out.

The suspicion is only proven to be true when he speaks up suddenly, lost in thought and a little overwhelmed himself. “How do you spell ‘accommodate’?” he asks, scratching the back of his head.

He now admits that it’s a stupid question to ask, but somehow, getting advice from you is much easier than looking it up himself, or simply writing the word down to let Google docs do the editing. The answer you give him is short, sharp, and the tone of your voice stings the boy the tiniest bit. “Are you 5 years old, or something?”

“I–”

“I’m in the middle of writing an important paragraph, Eric, just Google it–”

“Jeez, okay,” he hums, rolling his eyes at your snappy composure. When your eyes meet only two seconds after, you look a little guilty. You say nothing, though, only continuing to focus on your essay– and Eric does the same, for the most part. (While he also tries to take his mind off the fact that you might think he’s a little bit stupid. You are a STEM major, after all– he’s the one studying media.)

After a while of typing away on your computer, though, you look at him with big eyes, chewing on the bottom of your lip. The subtle nerves and desperation in your face are enough to leave the man weak in his knees, and even though he’d like to reply to you in a similar manner to show you his disapproval with your previous tone, he can’t find it in himself to ever reject you as you mumble out a soft: “Switch?” having the man instantly nod, offering you his laptop.

This is standard practice for the two of you. While he doesn’t really know what you’re talking about in your essays– for all he knows, you could be pulling everything out of your ass– he enjoys reading the words you’ve written. You two often work on your essays together and switch from time to time to reread what the other one has so far– on a lookout for wrong word order, grammar, or anything sounding weird. It’s hard to rationally evaluate your work and find flaws in it after spending hours and hours on it, your brain desensitized to the content you’re writing. Having a helping pair of eyes is always for the better.

When the both of you are done and you switch the laptops back, there’s a gold sticker smiling back at him from the device settled right next to the Kirby sticker you’ve given him once after hearing him gushing about the game one night (Yes, he was tipsy and sentimental). He didn’t even notice you putting it on, and when he looks up at you with questioning eyes, you shrug at him, averting eye contact.

“A gold star for spelling ‘accommodate’ right,” you say, making the boy roll his eyes, snickering.

He doesn’t really question you further. Just the star sticker is enough for him now, if he’s being totally honest– even as unserious as they come. Had he pried more, though, maybe he’d find out that the gold star wasn’t just the prize for his spelling– but also for his patience and silent support he’s been sending you every single day. 

And so, the habit preserves itself at first in a joking, half-serious manner. A gold star sticker for him when he reminds you to water your plants (‘for having a good memory’). A gold sticker for him when he carries you home on his back after you get too drunk at the bar with your friends (‘for having strong muscles’). A star sticker for him when he picks you up after work and drives you home (‘for having a cool car’). Another one when he cooks you ramen when you’re sick and don’t have enough energy to make yourself something warm for dinner (‘for being a 5* Michelin cook’). For his birthday, alongside with other things, you give him a strip of the gold star stickers, 5 in a row all next to each other– ‘for bearing the old age well’. He’s not even that much older than you in the first place, but he takes the external validation and praise with open arms, not really dwelling deeper into the sentiment underlying your joking, unserious reasonings. 

He doesn’t really realize the stickers were a sign of gratitude for the fact that he listens to you and remembers what you have to say– not for having a good memory. They are for taking care of you on your lowest– not for having strong arms and a ‘fat ass’. They are a wordless thank you for his acts of service and protection of you, not for having a cool car and getting his driver’s license– although, the pride is the common undertone in some of the gold stars you give him. You give him gold stars on his birthday to tell him you’re proud of the man he’s growing into, not to make fun of him growing old. The boy is just too oblivious to realize it, it seems.

Some days are more difficult than others, though, and that’s when your star stickers gain more value and seriousness. 

The day after he has a family reunion with the distant relatives that always pry too much into his business– ‘Do you have a girlfriend yet?’, ‘What will you end up doing with that useless degree of yours?’, ‘Do you still share a flat with that friend of yours? What about getting your own place?’ – he is met with the sight of you waiting for him after class, on one of the bean bags outside of the lecture room. His department is a solid 20 minute walk away from yours, so the sight of you there surprises him, but the shock is only intensified when you call him over with a wave of your hand and present him with a pack of M&M’s with a gold star stuck to the packaging.

“What’s that for?” he says, but opens the candy nonetheless. After he takes a few into his mouth, he offers you some– to which you shake your head and shrug.

“For being the coolest one out of your family,” you say close to his ear, like it’s a secret, before you ruffle his hair and stand up from the bean bag, strutting towards the exit. “Come on, I have beer over at my place. You can come over and rant about them being stupid, if you want.”

Eric smiles at your sincerity. Trying hard to tame his hair back into place, he follows you with his backpack hanging off one of his shoulders, and even though he’d love to finish the candy you’ve given him, he forces himself to leave at least three pieces inside of the bag, saving it for later– just so he can keep holding on to the star-adorning wrapper for some more.

One day is particularly hard for the boy as he locks himself out of the apartment, having to wait for his roommate Jake to come back from his hometown the other day, leaving him no place to stay– before you invite him over and force him to sleep over on the couch. You can tell there is something more bugging him, though– and so you push the boy for answers.

“What’s up? Locking yourself out is not the end of the world, y’know,” you say, trying to lighten up the situation.

Eric looks at you with tired eyes, shrugging. Truth be told, his mood has been gradually falling over the last couple of days– this incident was just what really tipped him over the edge and nudged him closer to a nervous breakdown. He’s been overwhelmed with work (too many people having high expectations of him that he is scared he cannot meet), with school (too many assignments he is afraid he can’t manage to get done in time) and also with his family constantly being at his neck about everything he does and chooses for his future– only fueling the burning pit of anxiety and insecurity crawling outside of the big hole inside of his chest.

“It’s nothing,” still, he notes. “I’ve just been having a bit of a rough time, really, ‘s all.”

You answer him with a slight pout of your lips, a saddened expression taking over your face. There is sympathy oozing off your presence, and Eric can’t tell if he dislikes it, or yearns too much for your caring words and gentle encouragement. He can’t tell if it’s natural or pathetic, to want, to need your compliments and validation so much– or if he’s just fallen into a hole he can’t crawl back out of, too hungry after every bit of your attention. You’ve completely enchanted the boy, made his heart both soft and erratically running whenever you’re around, and the things he constantly does for you are not only because he wants you to tell him he’s doing well, but also because he wants you to think of him as someone that you can lean on. He wants you to think of him as someone good enough for you. 

Today, though, maybe he just needs a bit of validation. Maybe he just selfishly strives for your encouragement. It’s okay to just want to be loved on from time to time, no?

You coo, taking a seat next to him on the sofa you’ve spent countless movie nights on together, slotted side by side. Eric plays with his fingers in his lap, a heavy cloud hanging over his face. You know your friend isn’t really good at talking about his emotions– something akin to a mental block inside of him preventing him from ever fully opening up– but despite it all, it seems like he’s completely see-through in your eyes, handling you all the unspoken words on a silver platter. You know him too well.

“You’re doing well, Eric. Don’t let the doubts get into your head, yeah?” you hum, meeting eyes with the boy. 

“Am I, though?” 

The face you give him is stern, acting upset with him. “Of course you are! Stop saying that,” you shake your head at him, sighing when he doesn’t comply with your hard love. After a heartbeat of silence, you turn your head away from him and face the turned-off TV, instinctively wrapping your arm around the boy first, tucking him to your side, before you cradle his head and move it so it sits in the crook of your shoulder. 

Patting his hair, ruffling it and gently playing with the strands before you move to scratch on his scalp, the actions all unarm the poor boy. He almost feels like he could cry and fall apart right there in front of you, right there in your hold, but his pride is oftentimes bigger than his need to let it all out– so he just stares ahead of him, teething at his bottom lip in silence.

After a moment, you rustle around your pocket with your free hand, seemingly searching for something. Eric watches you with curious eyes, big eyes reminiscent of ponds of water waiting to overflow when you take out a strip of star stickers from the inside of your sweatpants, gently taking one of them and sticking the golden star onto the fabric of his pants, right on his knee, before patting it affectionately.

“What’s that for?” he asks, voice a bit hoarse. He’s glad you don’t mention it.

“Just in general,” you shrug, hand coming back up to play with his hair, “a gold star because I’m proud of you.”

“There’s nothing to be proud of, though..?”

“Of course there is!” you argue, raising your voice at him. He doesn’t make much effort to show you that he agrees or understands your point, so you gently take his hand into yours and wave it around in mock-joy– although you’re kind of serious about the sentiment. “Proud of you, because you’re alive and surviving! Yay!”

Eric snorts. It’s not enough to cure his mood completely, but it warms his heart up enough to make him forget about his tears.

“Do you just carry these on you at all times?” he asks, pointing towards the sticker on his leg.

“You never know when you need them,” you innocently agree. After your continuous doting, the boy finds himself falling asleep on your shoulder. When he wakes up in the morning, there’s a blanket thrown over his body he didn’t see in the room before, and he feels a thousand times better.

So far, Eric’s never asked for the gold star stickers. They always come to him by your initiative– and although he has to admit that sometimes he does stuff for you and expects a reward for it (in the form of the sticker, of course) – he never once begged to receive one himself. Sometimes, you surprise him. Sometimes, it’s obvious there is one coming– like after he helps you send out your psychology survey to every single person he knows (and he knows a lot of them. He is a born extrovert, after all.). 

Much like the day of his football match. 

He’s not really the biggest fan of the sport– he much prefers baseball, but his university no longer has a baseball team and he needs to get additional credit somehow– but when you add up the fact that it makes him popular with the fact that he ends up spending time playing around the field with his friends and over the course of the season gets actually better at the sport the more he practices, it’s not as bad as he expected.

The last match of the season turned out well– with their team winning– and although Eric wasn’t the one in charge of the winning goal (damn Kim Sunwoo and Jake Sim for collectively beating him to the victory), he was still ecstatic about the whole thing. After celebrating with his teammates, dubbing them up and screaming in victory, his eyes scan the crowd to find the rest of his friend group that he knows is there, watching him and Sunwoo play. (In reality, he’s just looking for you– he won’t admit that out loud, though.)

Running up to you with sparkles in his eyes, he watches as you cheer on your other friend, Sunwoo, when he beats him to the bleachers. (Not cool of him, if you ask Eric. His crush is literally right there.)

The taller boy enthusiastically talks about the match– as if you, Jihoon, Ryujin and Jay haven’t been on the bleachers the whole time, watching– and after a while, Eric hears your enthusiastic praise aimed towards his best friend, making his blood turn green in envy.

“Yo, that goal was so good, though!” you gush, patting Sunwoo on the shoulder.

“I know, right? Jake passed the ball to me in the perfect time, that other guy couldn’t even register what was happening,” he boosts, grinning to himself.

All attention is drawn on Kim Sunwoo, and Eric doesn’t like it. Not when it’s your attention we’re talking about. He doesn’t care if the whole university drools over the handsome fire sign (as if he doesn’t have a girlfriend anyway– although Eric is still surprised by the fact, after the way he treated the part-timer at his father’s movie theater in the first few weeks of their acquaintance). Believe me, Eric is completely content standing in the shadow whenever someone gushes about Kim Sunwoo, the star player of the team– until you’re involved, of course.

So, he sulks. And it’s apparent– or at least he thinks so. It doesn’t seem to clock in with any of his friends, though, as they all walk away from the football field, aiming to celebrate together in the cheap restaurant downtown. Eric walks behind the group like a lost puppy, and it takes exactly 5 minutes and 35 seconds (not that he’s counting) for you to finally notice the absence of his lame jokes and loud comments to just about everything.

“What’s up?” you ask when you trail behind the group to join his side, laughing at the pout on his face. “You look like you just lost the match. Which you didn’t. Not sure if you caught that…” you joke, bumping your hips with him.

“Well, you seem to be acting like it,” he comments, his words leaving a sour taste in your mouth.

“Huh?” you ask, genuine confusion tinting your expression. “We’re literally going to celebrate, I don’t get what you– is this because you want that stupid star sticker?” you cut yourself off mid-sentence, the boy already too readable to you after so much time.

Eric gasps in shock. He’s not really sure what he wanted out of mentioning it so openly to you, but to be called out like this surely wasn’t on the list. He feels heat rising to his cheeks with lightning speed, his eyes averting your gaze in the instant. Maybe the voices inside of his head were right. Maybe he is embarrassing.

“Well,” he shrugs, only digging the hole under himself deeper, “did I not do well too?” he mutters under his breath, the humiliation fully settling into his bones after you laugh straight at his face.

“Wow…” you hum, shaking your head in disbelief. “If I knew I was fueling your praise kink this much with the stickers, I would’ve stopped a long time ago–”

“I don’t have a praise kink–” he screams, battling you as you suddenly scramble after him with the sticker on your finger, waiting to be plastered somewhere onto his figure. He’s sure the whole commotion heard his poor attempt at defending himself, but he’s not willing to back down without a fight– anything to prove that he doesn’t depend on the stickers as much as one would think. He doesn’t want the sticker anymore. He doesn’t need it.

As you fight him and womanhandle him on the street, though, hands all over him, trying to get close as he desperately tries to push you away and fight the allegations, he finds himself unarmed when you get in close proximity of his body, pushing him against the wall. He’s sure he has more muscle power than you do, but the mental power in him is lacking– he just can’t make himself push you away from him. Your face is close to his, your breathing tickling his nose. His heart is stammering hard against his chest, your hands still clutching his wrists against the wall, making him feel like a horny teenager. His breathing is heavy– he doesn’t think he’s done much physical labor, though?

Before he has a chance to collect himself and physically unglue his eyes off your lips– glossy and pink, inviting him in– you make the boy’s brain short circuit even further when you lean close to his ear, whispering so no one else can hear.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, by the way.”

You know just which buttons to push. Maybe you’re a bit sadistic– with how knowledgeable you are of his feelings, but of how much you’re enjoying him being completely oblivious to the fact that you’re aware. You have him at your mercy, all yours to keep, his heart all yours to play with and scan in the palm of your hands.

A star sticker is pressed into the skin below his ear, right at the pulse point. With that, you unstick yourself from the boy, running back to the rest of the group. It takes Eric a moment to collect himself enough to rejoin his friends– so much he has to run (which is good, in hindsight– at least he has something to blame for his breathlessness)– but after this, he swears he’s never asking for validation from you ever again.

It’s too dangerous.

Almost as dangerous as you trying to ride his skateboard for the first time, it seems. He’s met with the fact only two weeks after the football match. When you texted him and convinced him you’re going to be fine and that he should definitely bring the board with him when you hang out later in the day– ‘I’m not a five year old, I can handle it! I bet it’s going to be fun!’ – he didn’t really expect you to be this bad at it. You seemed a little too confident for him to believe otherwise, and, well, in Eric’s eyes, you are perfect at just about everything. 

This really shattered the image of you he had in his mind. Not in a bad way, no– the man has and always will worship the sheer ground you walk on– it’s just that more than admiration, the feeling flowing through his veins right now seems to be adoration. Eric always admired your every move, every single sentence that ever came out of your mouth. But now, he just can’t seem to contain himself as he watches you stumble over your own feet and try to balance yourself on the unmoving skateboard in the middle of the empty park, hands waving around your figure in a desperate need to not fall over and break your neck. (Which would never happen under Eric’s watch anyway. His reflexes are fast.)

“You look like a baby learning how to walk for the first time,” he gushes from the bench, your bags waiting at his feet. A wide grin is plastered onto his face as he watches you, his cheeks beginning to hurt from the constant stretch of the muscles.

“Very funny,” you sigh, stumbling over once again, making the board move with the kinetic motion of you stepping off of it, leaving Eric to stop it with his outstretched leg.

“You were so confident before,” he shakes his head, mocking you.

“Well, I tend to overestimate my abilities sometimes,” you shrug, a pout slowly appearing on your face as you move closer towards the male, obviously going to sit at the bench next to him. “It’s whatever, I don’t feel like skateboarding anymore–”

“You’re giving up already?” 

“Yes.”

“No, you’re not,” he shakes his head, standing up and offering you his hand to take so he can bring you back up to your feet, “never back down, never what?”

“Eric, I’m not going to finish your TikTok references right now–”

“I said never back down never what?!” he hollers, forcefully tugging you to a standing position, the sigh escaping your lips only fueling him further with his ridiculous antics. “Never give up! That’s right, Y/N, very well. Now, let me help you, I promise it’s not as hard as it seems.”

“I mean, given the fact that even you can do it–”

Eric flashes you a stone cold look as a warning. He doesn’t really think the teasing is at place right now– you’re the one not capable of keeping balance on the skateboard. It’s not like you have any right to joke right now.

“Okay, I take it back.”

“Leave the jokes for when your legs don’t look like a freshy born horse’s with how much they’re shaking when you’re up on this thing, yeah?” he chuckles, hearing you snort out a laugh at the accuracy of his comment.

Eric should’ve known he was the one miscalculating his abilities to efficiently teach you how to skateboard before the act itself happened. He didn’t, though, and the thought only occurred to him the moment you started latching onto him like a koala to its favorite tree– all just so you could hold balance on the board beneath your feet.

Your legs are a little shaky– and so are Eric’s hands when they instinctively land on your waist as you latch onto his shoulders, steadying yourself. The boy is painfully aware of the layers of clothing preventing him from touching your bare skin, yet, his fingertips still tingle as they bear into your midriff, holding you steady and preventing you from falling.

“Now, this isn’t so hard,” you conclude, chuckling. Eric doesn’t find it in himself to look up at your face, knowing he’d go painfully red the second your eyes would meet. The close proximity of your body still makes him shy sometimes, despite the years of friendship you share, and so he keeps his gaze glued to the ground instead, clearing his throat before he speaks up again, trying to seem nonchalant and casual.

“I’ll move now, yeah?”

Without really waiting for your reply, his feet shift their position on the ground, dragging you across the road with him. Gentle steps at first, making sure you’re not too overwhelmed, then picking up speed so you move a little faster on the board. “Will you be okay if I let go?”

“I don’t know..? Hopefully…?” you say, voice wavering a little, nerves seeping through your tone.

“I’ll catch you if you fall, don’t worry,” he hums, feeling how you squeeze his shoulders for one last time before he lets go of your waist, watching the way you slide away on the skateboard. The pace isn’t too fast, yet, it’s still enough to make you grin widely at the boy, your body now used to the feeling, balance finally finding its way to you. 

“Do you want me to push you around for a bit?” he offers, relishing in the way you nod eagerly at him, the grin on your face making his heart squeeze on itself. If he could carve the muscle out of his chest and offer it to you, he would. In his eyes, you deserve everything in this world– how could he not just try and give it to you, little by little, all by himself?

Light steps nearing your figure, he gently pushes you in the back, watching as you slide farther and farther away from him. Every time he gently nudges you in the right direction, he earns himself a hearty giggle from you, the motion making you feel free and reckless– just like teenagers do when discovering the activity for the first time. “I was right! It’s fun!”

Eric can feel himself relishing in the moment fully. Your smile is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, and he wishes he could engrave the sight of it into his memory forever. He knows that’s not possible, though, and so he pledges to try his hardest to make it appear on your face so much and so often that he has no chance to forget how it looks.

After you’re done and exhausted with the day, Eric makes it his quest to get you home safely before heading to his place. You complain about your feet hurting, and although the boy is doubtful of your whining, he still offers to drag you home as you stand on the skateboard, holding your hand the whole way. When he’s almost at your apartment complex, he feels the familiar star sticker glued to the back of his hand before you intertwine your fingers with his, running a thumb proudly over the gold plastic.

“A gold star for being a good teacher,” you note when your eyes meet, making the boy chuckle.

“Shouldn’t I be giving you one for being a good student? Is that not how things usually work?” 

“I give credit where credit is due,” you hum, nodding to yourself. “Besides, that’s not only for that. I just…” you trail off, as if too nervous to say the next words. “I just wanted to show gratitude to you, ‘cause I had a really good time today,” you say nonchalantly, still, shrugging. Eric feels his stomach churning. How can you be so casual with saying words that make his heart skip a beat?

“I should show my gratitude to you more often too, y’know.”

You shake your head at him, laughing like it’s funny. “Oh, Eric. You do it so often you don’t even realize it. You just have a different way of showing it than I do.”

Eric averts his gaze from you, chewing on his bottom lip in nervousness. He starts to wonder if he’s been too obvious with his feelings. Do you see him differently now?

The questions almost drown him out on the way towards your house. Somewhere along the way, he realizes the act of holding your hand feels natural to him now. Gazing at your interlocked fingers, he smiles to himself. He could get used to it– all of it.

He could get used to the people smiling at him and you on the street when they see you with fingers interlocked. He could get used to holding your hand every day, keeping you close. He could get used to your touches, hugs and skinship. He could get used to waking up to you in the same apartment as him, like that one time he locked himself out and you let him sleep over at your place. And to a certain extent, he already has gotten used to you– all of you. 

He’s used to texting you every day. He’s used to seeing you multiple times a week– because if he doesn’t, he misses you a little too much. He’s used to your movie nights and dancing with you in bars, shielding you from the looks of other greedy men wanting to get a piece of you. He’s used to the gold stickers you constantly provide him with as a gentle reminder of the unsaid feelings shared between the two of you. He’s used to your presence and your energy, he’s used to your teasing words and the memes you send in his Instagram DMs. If you were suddenly removed out of his life, he knows he’ll find it hard. It would feel like a piece of him was missing.

Some days, he tries to make himself believe that he’s content with what you two have right now. And he is, for the most part– but deep down, he knows he wants more. He always wanted something a bit more.

It shines through his actions on most days. It’s visible to everyone– the longing looks, the gentle touches. Jake once said Eric would jump out of a window if you asked him to, and after careful consideration, the boy had to shamefully agree with his roommate. Eric gets laughed at every time his cheeks blush when you give him too much special attention. He’s used to being called the ‘lover boy’ whenever you’re around. 

In front of you, he tries to hide his feelings as much as possible, though.

Sometimes, it slips out of him, though. In moments where the day slowly comes to its end and the atmosphere turns more tender. On days when the movie nights get moved to his apartment, because it’s closer to your university and you claim you’re too tired to walk all the way back to your place. Eric claims you’re just lazy, but the pout on your face tells him otherwise. 

On days when there is no one else in the apartment, just you two, and your conversation dies down. The boy is usually a chatterbox when it comes to watching movies with you– commenting on every single scene, making fun of the characters, teasingly spoiling bits and chunks of the plot for you– but it was a Friday night and you were snuggled up in your favorite hoodie, your bodies stuck tightly to each other on the sofa. There is a cloud of comfort, a huge curtain of intimacy falling over you two, and Eric is afraid that speaking up would ruin the sentiment. 

After a few minutes, he feels your head lay on his shoulder. The crown of your head is instantly more interesting than the movie playing on the TV, his eyes glossing over your relaxed expression. There is hair falling into your face and your eyelashes are kissing your cheekbones, your brain no longer focusing on the movie, but slowly dozing off instead. Eric mentally coos– it’s not often you fall asleep next to him, and so he somehow finds himself treasuring the moment. You look so peaceful, so beautiful– yet so unaware of it. His heart squeezes with tenderness, making sink a little into the sofa cushions so you’re more comfortable in using him as your head rest. He knows waking you up or moving you so you’re resting against the back of the sofa would be more convenient for your neck, but he selfishly relishes in the fact that you found comfort in the crook of his shoulder instead.

He can’t help but smile widely at your composure. You look small and vulnerable. You look like the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. Eric indulges in the fact that he’s not watched right now, letting himself fully enjoy and admire your sheer existence. 

He acts on impulse when his lips softly land onto your forehead. Not much thought goes into the sentiment– he just sheerly answered his heart’s calling. 

You look dreamy. You look lovely. He’s in love with you, he thinks.

He lets himself settle deeper into the couch cushions. After no longer having to entertain you with his comments on the movie he’s seen 4 times already– The matrix– he finds himself bored enough of the familiar plot to doze off himself, forgetting about the promise he made to you to drive you home after the movie is over. 

He sleeps through your smile and the shake of your head, as well as you detaching your head off his shoulder, smiling at the unaware boy. Not yet asleep– just resting your eyes for a bit– you were a witness of the boy’s tender, loving ministrations. You disappear out of the apartment after the movie is over, crossing paths with Jake in the entrance hall giving you a quiet wave and a point towards his roommate sitting on the sofa, a gold star adorning the tip of his nose.

You just shrug before leaving. Jake just shakes his head at both of you, wondering when your time will finally come. Eric wakes up in the middle of the night to the TV off, asking himself if he should consider the sticker a silent invitation.

And after a while of careful consideration– laying awake and wondering of all the what-ifs, replaying every moment spent with you over and over in his mind, looking for the very obvious signs of reciprocation– he decides to just go for it. He decides to be the brave man he claims he is, and finally makes the first step.

Well, at least tries to. Because as it turns out, it’s much more difficult to invite someone out on a date if you’re already friends with them for a prolonged amount of time. Not only is it more nerve-wrecking, but also much more confusing to the other party– and after inviting you out to get boba in the new place downtown, he’s not so sure you are aware that you’re on a date with him. 

Not that Eric expected anything to change between the two of you instantly after going on a date– no, he’s completely fine with the dynamic you two have, and it’s one of the things he values the most about your friendship– he just thought the atmosphere would be… a little different.

Which is why he decides to start dropping not so subtle hints about his intentions. Brave, isn’t he?

First of all, he pays for your order. All after the 20 minutes you take standing outside of the boba store searching through the menu to find out what you’re going to get– and although Eric finds it endearing, he is also starting to get a little nervous.

“Didn’t know you were so indecisive,” he hums, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“I’m not!” you grunt, shaking your head at your own antics. “I just don’t know what tastes good together. Should I just get one of the premade drinks on the menu? But I’m not really in the mood for any of these–”

“I’ll just get you a random one,” he sighs, “and you will have no other choice than to drink it.”

“What if I don’t like it?”

“Then at least you have someone to blame,” he snickers, pushing the glass door open and entering the quiet boba store. He orders you a kiwi bubble tea with strawberry popping pearls– because he knows you enjoy how they come apart in your mouth– and after he comes outside with both of the drinks in either of his hands, he waves you off when you ask him how much yours was so you can pay him back.

“It’s on me,” he hums.

An over-exaggerated sigh escapes your mouth at that. “You’re paying? You never pay,” you exclaim and take the straw in between your lips, ready to taste the drink. You and Eric both know that what you said is a lie– he has no issue with paying for you, and he brings you random treats all the time– but for the sake of the next line, he decides to go along with it.

“Well, today is a different occasion, I guess,” he shrugs.

With that, you stop and stare at him with stars in your eyes, a teasing smile slowly overtaking your lips. You’re not stupid– you’re not oblivious the way he is– and so Eric thinks you finally got the hint. Or, at least he hopes so. “Is it?”

Suddenly too shy under your gaze, cheeks tinting light pink, the boy averts his gaze from you and walks down the street, expecting you to follow him. He might be brave enough to drop hints, but still not brave enough to admit to it explicitly.

Not when he drags you to the park and sits with you on the bench, people watching. Not when he casually drops his arm on the back of the bench behind you, gluing himself particularly close to your body. Not when he lets you try his drink, battling away the annoying voice inside of his head telling him that you just shared an indirect kiss. (‘Come on, Eric. You’re not a teenager anymore. Get it together.’)

He doesn’t admit to it in words, but he sure does in actions when he gives you his jacket when the evening gets chilly. He swears you look the most adorable in his red windbreaker, and in a moment of weakness, he puts his arm around your shoulders as you walk down the street, a selfish need of having you close to him winning above everything else.

“And what was so different about today, Eric?” you ask on the way to your apartment, gazing up at the beaming boy next to you. Are you teasing him again? Do you enjoy watching his misery?

Eric figures it’s for the best to tell you, though. He thinks it’s important to set the tone– because after today, it’s almost like nothing changed at all. The dynamic stays the same– and while he doesn’t think he hates it, he admits he’d just rather call you his.

So, despite the embarrassment, he chews on the bottom of his lip. You’re almost at your place already, and so he thinks it won’t hurt to talk about it now. If things go wrong, you can just go home and he can run to his apartment and violently cry into his pillow. 

“Well, I was thinking…” he starts, clearing his throat to buy himself some time and also trying to bite down the excessive nerves clawing at him from the inside, “I… you… I was hoping this wasn’t just like… a regular day out, you know…?”

Blinking at him a few times– because you must love to torture him, there is no other explanation– you shake you head at him. “No, Eric. I don’t know what you mean by that.”

Eric physically tears himself off you, your apartment complex now directly in front of him. Cracking his knuckles and taking a deep breath in to calm himself, he tries again. “I meant to… invite you out on a date today,” he proposes simply.

And in that moment, it’s like the whole world stops turning for a minute. Not only do you not give him any verbal answer, but your expression also stays the same as before– completely stoic and neutral, giving him no window into the way you feel about his suggestion. And you know what they say about Eric Sohn– he talks too much. Not only in situations where it’s inappropriate, but also in moments where he feels like there is nothing better to do than to fill the suffocating void that is the silence hanging over him– much like right now.

Eric rambles. “And- and I know I should’ve said that before making you go with me, but god, you don’t know how hard it is to make it clear to you that I’m trying to be more than friends with you without sounding absolutely fucking awkward!” he sighs, wetting his dry, chapped lips. 

“And I’m sorry if this changes your view of me, or something, but trust me, our friendship means to me so much more than just trying to make you date me, that was never my intention behind things, I do everything out of care for you, because you’re– you’re just everything to me–”

After the last line, he hears you chuckle. Your eyes finally meet, and he feels like he wants a car to run him over approximately 15 times to make sure all his bones are broken and his skull is smashed into pieces– he’s sure it would be more comfortable than the situation he put himself in right now.

“That was so cheesy,” you say, Eric’s stomach making a flip that might as well force acid up his throat. He won’t throw up, he won’t throw up, he won’t embarrass himself even more–

His hands shake. Suddenly, you take them into yours. 

He watches you carefully, ready to be let down. You step closer to him– surely, you’re going to give him a comforting hug as you tell him he read all the signs wrong and you don’t feel the same– before you lean into him, face inches away from his. Blinking, Eric suddenly registers your lips locking with his for a mere second, a soft, sweet caress of your mouth on his not giving him a chance to react– a chance to reciprocate– before you pull away, making him freeze.

“You always make things more complicated than they need to be,” you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Uh…” he lets out, like he lost all the words in his vocabulary. It’s the first time Eric Sohn has nothing to say– and it feels like a miracle. In reality, he’s taken aback and still processing.

The sight of him like this only makes you grin wider. It’s no question that you find him adorable like this, so bashful and surprised, cheeks turning red and lips slightly ajar, big eyes staring into yours. “Cat got your tongue?” you tease, letting go off his hands and placing your palms onto his cheeks instead, thumbs tracing his cheekbones. His brain might be blank right now, but his orbs still hold so many emotions– ones that make you soften and cave in on yourself, overflowing with tenderness. Hands automatically resting on your waist, Eric holds you close to his chest.

“Put your mouth to use in a different way, then,” you joke, watching the boy in front of you go into factory reset.

Lips crashing against yours, the boy kisses you like you’re his lifeline. Chasing after you, he puts all the words he’s said before and the ones he keeps hidden inside for now into the action, having you melt in his hold. He feels your breathing on his face, making him deeply aware of every detail, of every miniscule shift of your figure, every tiniest movement of your lips and the almost inaudible sound you let out when his teeth tug on your bottom lip as he pulls away for air, being a little overly-excited.

Foreheads resting together, the two of you in your own little bubble no one gets to peer into even on the busy street, Eric watches as you look down and take something out of your pocket– something he so deeply recognises, making his heart thump a thousand miles an hour, if it wasn’t already.

Another kiss is given to his lips– for good measure– before you press another one to the tip of his nose and one more peck into the middle of his forehead, making his legs feel like jelly. You follow your lips with the star sticker attached to your thumb, sticking it to your lover’s skin. 

“That’s a gold star for being adorable,” you say, making him roll his eyes. “And for the nice date.”

“Don’t I get one for being a good kisser too?” he pries, watching as you scoff at his prideful question.

“I don’t know, Sohn,” you shrug, “I’m not sure yet, but I could be convinced–”

He cuts you off by locking your lips again, ready to prove you of his abilities. With the gold sticker proudly glimmering on his forehead, he realizes that maybe you were right– and all along, it has always been this simple.

[zephyrchama]

hi!! please can you spare a crumb of leviathan fluff please?

You knocked on the door to Leviathan’s room out of courtesy, but he was already calling for you to “come in.”

“No password?” you asked. You had been expecting a fun trivia question like always.

“No need. I could tell it was you.” From the sound of your approaching footsteps to the way you knock, and even the little pause between those two actions. Everyone seemed to know your distinctive traits better than you did.

“What’s up?” Leviathan didn’t look over. He was too preoccupied with his manga. He held it up in a way that obscured most of his face. His legs were sprawled out on the floor with his back against an ottoman and a stack of the latest releases by his side. Leviathan had a knack for lounging comfortably in the most inconvenient positions.

“I was looking for something to read. Mind if I browse your collection?” "Mmhmm.” Having unfiltered access to Leviathan’s collection was a rare privilege extended only to you, who could be trusted to borrow things without damaging or losing them. Or selling them, spilling food on them, bending the pages. There had been an extensive list of detailed rules you pledged to follow.

You spent a couple of minutes browsing the shelves. Honestly, nothing stood out. The room was silent, save for the occasional turn of a page and the humming of the lights. You were just bored and hoped to spend some quality time with a certain nerd, however, he was busy.

Giving up on the shelves, you decided to plop down in front of Leviathan. He was so immersed in his comic that he didn’t notice. A lead-up to a large-scale battle scene occupied so much of his attention, he failed to realize you were crawling over his legs like a spy in an action flick. You finally grabbed his attention by squeezing your shoulders between his arms, bumping your head against the book as you tried to worm under it.

“Hey! Ahh!” Leviathan was startled. He raised his hands in shock, or maybe to preserve his manga, but either way it created a wider path for you to take immediate advantage of. You snuggled up to his shoulder with the determination of a thousand shounen protagonists.

“What… what? What are…? Whu?” Leviathan was at a loss for words until he finally settled on demanding, “what is this?”

You were still trying to get comfortable, which was causing Leviathan a lot of discomfort. You rolled over to lay your back against his chest and bent your legs over his knees. Tugging his arms back down so you could see the manga, you explained, “I wanted to read this one.”

“It’s volume 18 though…?”

You nodded, “cool.”

“Did you even read the other volumes? You won’t get it at all.”

You tilted your head far back to look up at Leviathan, catching his eye for a brief moment before he glanced away. You felt him shudder. “I wanna read this one, though, so explain it to me.”

Far from the upcoming battle in his manga, Leviathan faced a raging battle in his mind. He couldn’t even remember what happened on the last few pages. He’d have to go back and re-read them.

“If it’s too much, just pretend like I’m not even here. I’ll figure it out on my own,” you said. The art looked good enough that you could admire that, even if you didn’t know anything about the plot.

“As if I could do that,” Leviathan complained. With a sigh, he hooked his arms under yours and brought his legs up so you fit better in his lap. Now you wouldn't slide down or constantly readjust your position. His movements were slow and deliberate attempts to make the both of you comfortable. He was cautious, as if you might jump up and run off at any moment.

“We can voice the lines out loud together,” you suggested, “but you’re gonna have to speak up or I won’t be able to hear you.” A chance to play voice actor sounded great to Leviathan. He was definitely interested. ”I’m right here though? What do you mean you can’t hear me?”

“Sorry, what was that? Come closer, the thumping in your chest is just so loud.”

With an embarrassed groan, he slapped the manga against his head and buried his blush-stained face into your hair where you couldn't see.

[i-arch-my-backula]

Slashers with an airhead s/o

I like to joke that I'm a bit of an airhead which is kinda true at times. I'm playing this up a bit for fun.

Includes: Pyramid head, Patrick Bateman, Hannibal Lecter, and Bo Sinclair

Warnings: Talk of murder and violence, Slashers kinda manipulating reader

Pyramid Head

When he first meets you he's going to think that you're too dumb to kill and too dumb to let you go. He's surprised that you haven't died yet to be honest.

You're going to have to go with him wherever he goes or stay in a safe place just in case something bad happens. He doesn't want you getting hurt.

He can't talk or use his voice at all but sometimes he wishes he could sigh in response to some of your questions or laugh at some of the things that you do like running into walls or failing to put something together.

He knows that you're smarter in certain areas more than others. He knows you're not totally helpless but when he had to rescue you from a room for the fifth time that week because you forgot how to unlock it he's going to be worried.

Patrick Bateman

Your airhead tendencies is part of the reason he's dating you. He was going to kill you at first but when you looked at him holding an ax and wearing a rain coat and you just smiled and asked "Is it raining outside?" He knew that he couldn't kill you.

Will constantly remind you of things you often forget. Will probably feel the need to help you with almost everything that you do. "Honey you're right handed, why are you using your left hand to cut the vegetables?" "Darling the tapes go in with the title facing us."

He's pretty happy that you're kind of an airhead because he doesn't have to worry about you figuring out he kills people. It's also easy to get your attention with pretty objects and to keep you occupied while he works.

Feels a little proud of your more smart moments. I feel like when you're able to have a basic conversation about stocks with him after he's explained them to you at least 30 times he's going to smile about it. "So I saw in the paper that stock prices are going up. That's a good thing right?" "It is honey. I'm glad you remembered.

Hannibal Lecter

Like Patrick he's going to take advantage of you being an airhead. You'll have questions about the meat he's serving but you'll just accept that it's some kind of cow organ or duck.

He'll laugh at your more airhead moments. Or at least smile. He'll walk in on your doing the L hand thing for left and right for the third time that day and he'll smile about it.

Will also use his money to keep you occupied. He'll use it as rewards in a way too. If you're excelling in learning a new skill or subject he'll treat you with something expensive.

If anyone is ever mean to you about how you're not the sharpest he's going to take care of them. Nobody is going to insult his s/o even if they are a little dumb.

Bo Sinclair

Bo isn't the smartest person either but it's a little comical to him how dumb you are. He's surprised you didn't crash your car on the way here. "Whens the last time you had your oil changed?" "You're supposed to change it?" He's going to quickly decide that he can't kill you.

Like mostly everyone on this list he like that you're a little dumb. He's surprised he even had to tell you that he kills people when you literally broke a finger off a figure and said "You guys but bones in your figures?"

Like Hannibal he will defend you against anyone who tries to make you feel bad for being on the dumber side. He knows you're an airhead but only he can mention it.

Will help you learn more basic knowledge so you can help around the house and stuff like that. He's probably almost had a stroke several times while trying to explain to you that you can't use cooking oil on cars, on different occasions.

[genericpuff]

I know LO has been over for a while but something that's always confused me is the 10 year punishment thing. (I dropped the comic before the judgment so correct me if im wrong)

apparently Persephone was sentenced to 10 years in the mortal realm. Yet she complains that Zeus keeps extending her punishment but the timeskip only ends up being 10 years? (From 20 yrs old to 30). that makes it sound like she had a shorter sentence that was extended to 10 yrs (what a fuckin slap on the wrist if it was).

Either her punishment was 10 yrs and Perse was just banking on early parole release or she always had a short sentence which ended up being a measly 10 yrs anyway.

But then that would mean Demeter's punishment period was either tied directly to Persephone's or (for some reason) she had a full 10 yr sentence while Persephone got an initial shorter period

If it's not either of those then shouldn't her punishment be longer? 11, 12, 15, 20 yrs instead? Would make more sense that she was mad if she had to serve at least twice as long as she was told to

Ah so actually she wasn't sentenced to 10 years, she was basically sentenced to a perpetual punishment until Zeus felt certain conditions were met, such as her filling all of the responsibilities of Demeter and turning Minthe back to normal.

So the reason it wound up being 10 years was because Zeus kept finding reasons to extend the sentencing, clearly in an attempt to keep her away from Apollo as he was already suspecting that he might use Persephone's fertility goddess powers to overthrow him.

(joke's on Zeus though, he was overthrown with a poison cupcake lmaooo)

That said, Persephone was... really dumb when she failed her 10th inspection. Primarily because she broke one of the rules Zeus put in place for her before he did the inspection-

Like it's really funny in hindsight to read this scene because at the time the narrative was definitely trying to make us believe that Zeus was the bad guy here, and to a point he's definitely fucking around and not actually planning on letting her out of confinement while also doing jack shit to get to the bottom of his own suspicions regarding his son... but also girl, if your plan was to prove to Zeus that you had filled your end of the bargain, then why try and give him the letter prior to your once-a-year inspection? Either you're failed again over some arbitrary made-up bullshit reason so you can use the guilt-trip method after he's already screwed you over, or best case, you pass and you can deliver the letter to Hades yourself! It was a really dumb move on her part to immediately jump to asking him to bend the rules he made for her when she should know Zeus isn't gonna feel obligated to 'owe' her anything, and is completely contrary to her being as "smart and cunning" as the narrative tries to make us believe (remember when she hustled Hades at chess and lied to him about having a driver's license? where's that Persephone?)

And yeah Zeus really isn't wrong when it comes to how Persephone herself is such a "uwu look at me I'm a smol widdle baby girl, please break the terms of my punishment for me because I asked with tented eyebrows bats eyelashes" , this is honestly why so many people like Zeus as a character in LO contrary to how much the narrative tries to make us hate him, because while he's absolutely an asshole who deserves to be knocked down a peg, at least the narrative doesn't try to gaslight us into thinking he's a good person like it does with H x P. Zeus is a shithead but unapologetically authentic; Persephone and Hades both pretend like they're saints on earth (and the narrative tries to sell them to us as such) meanwhile they're constantly picking on lower class people and using their power and influence to get their way even when they haven't earned it.

But also yeah, it's funny how the fans will say "age doesn't matter when you're a god, time doesn't mean anything when you're immortal" to dismiss the massive age gap between Hades and Persephone, but then cry foul over Zeus keeping her in confinement for 10 years which is a pretty bare ass minimum sentence when you really think about it. Like, if the passage of time really is that inconsequential to a god, then how is 10 years even a punishment? It's only suddenly seen as a massively unfair punishment when it's Persephone who's suffering it.

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

okay so first off. what does being "full on adults" have to do with disliking a character? like?? are we not allowed to dislike or criticize fiction once we cross the age of eighteen?

secondly, i love how they imply that we hate catra because of some sexist reason, but then lists mostly women among the characters who were immediately forgiven and faced no criticism from the viewers. so maybe it's not people "hating on complex female characters" maybe we just dislike poorly written ones.

and who said people don't hold hordak, scorpia, entrapta, etc accountable for their actions? we do, it's just that catra played a more important role in the story as the main villain and adora's love interest so obviously she's under more scrutiny.

we also see her commit more heinous crimes on screen, unlike scorpia and lonnie who were just following orders and hordak whose crimes were all lipservice. it's a lot easier to like a character who only committed heinous crimes off-screen. again, not justifying hordak's behavior, i just think the writers failed to make him an actual threat.

also i don't know how the nimona comics were but in the movie, ballister and ambrosius did have a relatively healthier relationship than catra and adora. mainly because ambrosius never hurt ballister on purpose and he genuinely felt guilty for his actions. even when he turned on nimona, he did it to protect ballister. he wasn't just using all forms of abuse on his boyfriend just for the fun of it, and excusing it by saying that he had a shitty childhood.

"(...) in terms of Catra, we saw the beginning of her redemption arc but she still worked towards it. She still took time to reflect, give genuine apologies to the Best Friends Squad, and turn around for the better."

i'm sorry? when did she apologize to the best friends squad? because i only remember her giving a half-assed apology to adora. glimmer and bow never got an apology from catra. glimmer especially deserved an apology because catra's actions led to her mother's death. also, i've already talked about how catra didn't actually change for the better and kept repeating her toxic habits, so i trust i don't have to say it again.

i do agree that in azula's case, the hate was more undeserved, mainly because none of her actions were justified by the narrative. and like op said, azula didn't have someone to offer her proper guidance.

(although i have to remind you, ursa never called azula a monster. she disapproved of azula's behavior but the monster part was just how azula perceived it. but i guess you know more about these shows than me, right?)

and that's where catra's actions can't be justified because she got multiple ways out, people in her life were constantly giving her chances, and she still chose to do evil. catra had all the resources she needed to become a better person, she was given opportunity after opportunity from the very first episode, and she still chose to participate in the war and chose to abuse and hurt people.

[emin-folly]

(@ftl-faster-than-life HI THIS TOOK A HOT MINUTE WEH Also thanks Tumblr for eating my asks again smh) oH BOY, WHERE DO I START Oh Barry, Barry, Barry, my sweet babygirl, how you've been so incredibly villainized by this fandom I'm going to take this opportunity to address and debunk as many misconceptions about Barry's character that I can remember, in the case if someone who doesn't really know Barry all that well is reading this or to hopefully change some people's minds~

* "Barry is boring": Well, yes but actually no. That's the beauty of Barry--he is designed to be your average, unassuming everyday kind of guy. Problem is, a lot of people think that's all there is to him, but that's really only just the surface.

He has flaws. He's prone to making decisions without consulting his family if he thinks it's for the greater good. You need to explicitly tell this man if you wanna be his lover because he absolutely can NOT read romantic cues to save his own life, he's a guilt sponge, he's weird, he LOVES science and comics and is a huge nerd!! He gets jealous!

Guys-Guys?? He's aN ELDRITCH HORROR??? HELLO????? He is CONSTANTLY living in sheer and utter denial and is desperately grasping his extremely thin veneer of being human, and yet, because of this, he actually puts his family in more jeopardy. Do you even realize how fascinating that is

Barry is a character who also deeply craves companionship/people. He struggles with depression and suicidal tendencies ever since being resurrected. He tries so hard to be what everyone else wants him to be and meet their expectations while failing to take care of himself in the process. He's so much more complex than just "Wally's nice father figure who died in Crisis". People also tend to equate "boring" with "being good/kind" which, you know...I very much disagree with but that's just my opinion * "Barry is racist!" LOL This one is just so wildly incorrect. The origin of this misconception comes from an out-of-context panel Justice League of America #173) of Barry being angry about Black Lightning joining the JL. If you read the whole page the panel comes from, you'd see that in actuality Barry is NOT angry about a black man joining the League but rather, he's angry that that seems to be the only reason Oliver wants him and Barry is (rightfully) calling Oliver out on that. There has been no other time where Barry has a problem with people of color

* "Barry is a Republican" I don't even know where this fanon came from. I think this may have originated from Wally's run where Wally was a conservative and he just assumed?? Barry was the same??? Which is SO laughably wrong (Wally bby, stop projecting on your uncle challenge) For the major part of Barry's original run (and honestly, the majority of the Flash runs after that), he remained largely apolitical . People see a white guy from the 60s and automatically assume he's right leaning /shrug * "Barry's a cop!" Yeahhh, not quite actually. He's a CSI, a forensic scientist, not a blue collar badge sporting cop. He's the behind-the-scenes guy, the one who studies the crime scene and tries to piece together the evidence and bring the culprit to justice. There IS a difference. But people don't really care about the technicalities, tho, they just want to hate Barry and him being "basically" a cop is a fast and easy excuse to do so. And DC certainly isn't helping matters with them constantly pushing the cop agenda for him (thanks a lot DC) * "Barry is sexually-repressed": This is a headcanon I seen a fair amount of and--okay, I get it. Barry is shy and reserved and blushes up a mad storm when someone compliments him. I can see how that might lead people to interpret that as him being sexually repressed/being a prude. But like....Buddy. Homie. Amigo.

This man had more canon sex than Hal Jordan. He and Iris were getting it on FREQUENTLY in the Silver Age and that's not me exaggerating. Just look at Flash #197 where it was Barry's birthday and he and Iris made out and stayed in bed practically the whole day together. Maybe you could say they just did that in the morning and they did other things later buuuut I don't believe that for a minute lol. Or! In Flash #195 where Barry was late to a ceremony of a submarine departure because (you guessed it!) he was too busy exploring his wife's mouth. Just because Barry doesn't make sexually-charged remarks or cop a feel from Iris constantly doesn't mean he's opposed to sex. I see it more as him just being way more private and reserved about it, but he IS very much down to fuck as she is (or Hal! Whichever your ship may be~)

While we're kinda on the subject, I'm really not a fan of the whole Barry being "shojo-fied/uwu-fied" thing, if I'm being honest?? Like, yes, if you give him any kind of compliment, he will blush furiously and stutter. But that's different from him being totally ignorant on what sex is/being a weak, delicate little flower who needs a "Big, Strong man" like Hal to save him (also, like...can we stop treating Barry as the "girl" of the ship just because he's skinnier and smaller than Hal pls and thank you). He is an mid-20-30 year old adult man. And a forensic scientist who probably seen a lot of sex-related crimes in his line of work. I'm pretty sure he knows what sex is, guys (in fact, he would be the guy who actually hosts Sex Ed classes bc the misinformation out there is staggering lol)

"Barry is weak/one of the weaker superheroes": Ok, I've never seen anyone say this persay, but it is very evident in how people portray him a lot of the time. They see his smaller frame and the fact that he runs fast to mean he's a glass cannon (Honestly they do this to a lot of the other speedsters as well) which hi! Wrong again! Speedsters are actually INSANELY durable little dudes. He could tank a punch from Darkseid. He can drag MASSIVE SHIPS behind him!! Wally once punched Eobard with the equivalent force of a dwarf star. Yeah. Now I get whump, I personally love it, I do, but I also enjoy seeing Barry being the absolute powerhouse he is. He can vibrate through solid matter, he can manipulate frequencies, and he's incredibly smart with how to use his powers, always thinking up on the spot improv strategies and techniques! Please stop nerfing him, guys, speedsters get too much of that from the writers OTL * "He's conservative because of his buzzcut!" Ok this one actually had like, a whole article?? On it?? And it truly is so wild lmao. When the only thing people can find to hate a character on is his haircut, you know they have no basis for their argument lol * "Barry is abusive!" Nope. Not even close. People love to pull this as a "gotcha" to Barry fans, regarding the panels of "Barry" beating up Wally and verbally abusing him (The Return of Barry Allen). Except....that wasn't Barry, that was Eobard disguised as him. You know...if you read the full run, you would know that lol You literally couldn't find a more least abusive person than Barry lol. Which actually leads me into the next one... * "Barry was an example of toxic masculinity!" AH yes, of course, with how he's so openly kind and compassionate, how he loves kids and animals, how he openly cries and shows emotion, how he's super respectful of people regardless, how he chugs Respect Women juice all day everyday, how he's contributing to fundraisers to help impoverished people and further medical progress, how he's so concerned about the state of the environment and is firmly against consumption of fossil fuels, how he constantly tells his son nephew he's so proud of him and that he's his hero, how he runs home after work bc he's genuinely so excited to see his wife, how he loves her SO much and smothers her with kisses every chance he gets UGH. How does Iris stand him /s And since we're talking about Barry and how the fandom treats him, I can't not talk about the elephant in the room--Flashpoint To start off, lemme preface this real quick:

FLASHPOINT WAS NOT BARRY'S FAULT

He DID NOT intend to trade the lives of his family for his mom He DID NOT run back in time because he was jealous of Wally (uhh lmao what???? Yeah, I can't even begin to explain how wack that is) He DID NOT run back in time because he was "selfish" and "wanted his mommy back" (unfriendly reminder that Nora is a separate character and shouldn't be treated as just an appendage of a male character <333) Some actual context for non-comic readers: Eobard killing his mom is actually an aberration of the true timeline. It was PERFECTLY REASONABLE to assume that it would restore itself to its original version!! Barry had also traveled in time before in the comics without any repercussions or ill effects, so there was NO CONCEIVABLE REASON FOR HIM TO THINK ANYTHING OF THE SCALE OF FLASHPOINT WOULD EVEN HAPPEN If people had read the issues preceding Flashpoint, they'd see Barry did all of that for Nora!! Because he despised the fact that she had to pay with her life because of a villain of his!! That it wasn't right for her to die for his sake!!

"But Eobard said Flashpoint was Barry's fault-!" EOBARD is A BITCH ASS LIAR who purposely twists the truth to hurt Barry as much as he can!! Of COURSE he would say that!! What ACTUALLY happened is that Eobard is the one who somehow made Nora's death such a critical and important fixture in time to the point of just tempering with that can cause a catastrophic domino effect. Flashpoint is EOBARD'S FAULT and HIS ALONE (and Idk, Doctor Manhattan's too ig if you wanna include him)

Barry loves his family and cares so, so, SO EXTREMELY MUCH. He could literally not be any prouder of Wally if he actually tried!! Everything he does is for his family, even sacrificing his own mental health and happiness for them and it makes me SO sad to see everyone cling to this butchered version of him in their minds (though it's not entirely their fault, DC is also definitely to blame)

[trappedinafantasy37]

There is a trend that I've noticed amongst fandom spaces around games, and it isn't a trend that is unique to Baldur's Gate. I have seen it happen in my other fandom spaces like Fallout, Cyberpunk, Dragon Age, etc. But people have a habit of having very strong opinions about companions/characters that they do not know.

It is comical to watch the abject lies people create about companions and use them as justification to dislike said companion because they know they don't have a valid reason to do so. This isn't unique to Minthara, this happens to ALL companions (ironically, the funniest and most egregious lies I've ever heard actually aren't even about Minthara). It's just glaringly obvious when it comes to Minthara as she is the least recruited and most killed companion in the game and is thus the least known. So the lies and mischaracterizations pop up more often, and there is an abundance of them. And it gets exhausting having to constantly fight these lies all the time. Especially when so few people actually know her and thus there are few who are able to defend her.

I remember there was a poll a few months ago that overwhelming voted Minthara as the least loyal and most likely companion to cheat on you. To me, that just screams that the people who voted for her in that poll have never had a conversation with her outside the goblin camp. Minthara is the most loyal companion. That is not an opinion of mine. That is a fact. That is canon to the game. She is canonically your most loyal companion. And it's not that she's the least likely to cheat. She never will. Again, not an opinion. That is canon to the game. But this is information people don't know, because they've never spent a single moment getting to know her. This is a lie being spread about her that will be used as justification to dislike her and to justify not recruiting her or justify killing her.

I have also seen people admit that their opinions about her is formed solely on social media posts from YouTube, TikTok, Twitter, Reddit, or Tumblr because they just can't stomach having her in their party. As ironic as this is going to sound, but your opinion about a character should never be based on social media alone. The people who do this are missing out on the context of that post and often fail to use it in comparison with the rest of the character (especially since there is a high risk of a social media post containing misinformation or just straight up lies). People will take this one snippet of a character, and use it as if that it is all that character is. Posts on social media, including mine, are meant to be supplementary to your experience of a companion, not the sole foundation.

When it comes to these social media posts, no two people are going to have the exact same interpretation, which may cause confusion for an outsider looking in. Even amongst us Minthara enjoyers, we do not always agree, and that is to be expected. We are all different people who have lived different lives and thus have different experiences informing our interpretations. Even amongst my mutuals we do not always agree, and that's normal. But at least we have taken the time to get to know her and come to our own conclusions and can understand how someone else came to a different one. My posts, or anyone else's, should not be your sole source of information about Minthara or any other characters. You still do need to form your own opinion and that can only be done by actually spending the time to get to know them.

Recently, one of my old posts in which I talked about the relationship with Minthara and Karlach has exploded again. And I see the tags that people are attaching to it. The game has been out for 10 months now. And it makes me sad that people still have the wrong opinion about Minthara. It makes me sad just how little people actually know about her. It makes me sad that people are only now going to go recruit her for the first time, even though the knock out exploit has been here for months. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy that my post has changed the way people see Minthara and encouraged them to want to get to know her. But it breaks my heart that I have to use another companion to convince people to get to know Minthara, because to them, Minthara alone just isn't good enough. They have already made up their mind about her, even though they don't even know her.

People are allowed to have whatever opinions that they want. But don't get online and share those opinions about a character you don't even know to people who do. It's like highschool level petty nonsense where people would rather believe and spread rumors about a person, rather than getting to know the person themselves and forming their own opinion. And, no, I don't care if your opinion is a positive one because even positive opinions can be inaccurate and wrong if you don't know the character. Again, this isn't just about Minthara but all characters and companions. And I'm only scratching at the surface level here. This essay would be significantly longer if I actually took the time to talk about how implicit bias, racism, homophobia, and sexism have all had a negative impact on fandom perception of Minthara and the other companions.

I will never tell anyone to do anything with their game they don't want to do, I will only encourage people to try new things. If you truly do not want to recruit Minthara or interact with her, that's fine. It's your game, your world, your rules, your vision.

But, I will say this. If the only conversation that you have ever had with Minthara is the one in the goblin camp, shut the fuck up about her. This cruel, heartless, evil person that floats around is a twisted version of Minthara that only exists on social media and was created by people who do not know her. This bastardized version is nothing like the version that actually exists in the game. And you would know that if you ever spent a single second of your time getting to know her.

[dottie-wan-kenobi]

earlier I saw a tiktok saying that spideytorch is queerbaiting... the word you are actually looking for is "queer subtext" or even "queer coded"

queerbaiting is a marketing technique. it is meant to sell something. it tells the audience that MAYBE there can be canon queerness IF the audience keeps watching/buys something/votes for them/does some other action

queer coding is giving a character queer traits/storylines/moments to a character whose sexuality is not clearly stated. it's part of the story and especially back when the hays code and CCA ruled everything, characters could not be explicitly queer

(please note these restrictions from the CCA in 1954, just before Johnny and Peter were created in the early 1960s:

- Illicit sex relations are neither to be hinted at nor portrayed. Rape scenes, as well as sexual abnormalities, are unacceptable. - Sex perversion or any inference to same is strictly forbidden.

don't forget, according to the standards of the time, 'sex perversion' included queerness)

and so from the beginning, neither character could be explicitly anything other than straight. but as individuals, they both have queer subtext

I can't list everything but: Peter joking about having a chance with Luke Cage, saying he dated Moon Knight 'a little bit', his whole dynamic with Deadpool, constantly calling other men terms of endearment, his close relationships with other men... this is not queer baiting. this is queer coding. whether marvel is doing it as a form of humor or not, they're not trying to sell you something -- Peter is just a funny guy who likes to flirt with his enemies and act like he's married to all of his friends

(shout out to Andrew Garfield, the #1 biderman defender. in a better life we got genderbent MJ and Andrew didn't get fired)

as for Johnny, he has so much queer subtext I don't even know where to start. he is "flaming". every relationship he's had with a woman has failed. he has an obvious crush on namor. he's very similar to Bobby Drake, who is canonically gay. someone who wrote a story with Johnny and Daken confirmed they included sexual tension between them. there are elseworlds where he is literally canonically queer. plus there's a theory that Johnny was supposed to come out in a somewhat-recent comic but that marvel chickened out at the last second

(please go read @traincat's post on Johnny being queer coded, top 5 post of all time. also their post on that potential coming out)

I won't say there's absolutely no evidence for queerbaiting because I haven't read every comic, I haven't seen how authors all about the characters, but simply put the existence of queer moments like this are not proof on their own of queerbaiting. ultimately, these are different things. they are not interchangable. queer subtext is not a bad thing and I wish people would remember what queer baiting really is

rant over

[cherubiyeon]

on my knees begging for a male reader (or gender neutral if thats more comfy) x minji or wonyoung where he's just so obsessed with her and is constantly pining or showering her in gifts and flowers

here, there and everywhere | ive jang wonyoung x gender neutral reader

just you, being the most absolutely smitten dork for your girlfriend.

✩ warnings. non-idol!au, university!au, established relationship, very dialogue heavy lol, reader sucks in budgeting fr do not try to be like them, mention of food like once ?

✩ word count. ~3k words

✩ playing. here, there and everywhere [the beatles]

☆ notes. hi anon! i didnt really like this fic ong this sucked but i chose wonyoung bc i havent wrote a fic for her for awhile :P anyways hope u like this!!

"y/n? y/n? earth to y/n?"

wonyoung's voice cut through the haze of y/n's thoughts, jolting them back to reality. they blinked a few times, their gaze refocusing as they met wonyoung's amused eyes. the campus cafe buzzed around them, students chatting, forks clinking against plates, and the aroma of brewed coffee filling the air.

"oh, sorry," y/n stammered, feeling a flush rise to their cheeks. "i guess i zoned out for a moment."

wonyoung grinned, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "you're always getting lost in your thoughts, aren't you?"

y/n nodded, offering a sheepish smile. "guilty as charged. you have that effect on me, you know?"

wonyoung's laughter was like music, filling the air around them. "well, i'm flattered," she said, her smile turning into a warm, genuine one. "so, what were you thinking about?"

with a soft chuckle, y/n leaned in slightly, their tone conspiratorial. "alright, alright. i was pondering the mysteries of the universe. you know, the usual."

wonyoung's laughter tinkled through the air again, and y/n found themselves mesmerized by the genuine warmth in her expression. "well, as long as you're not plotting world domination in there," she teased.

"world domination is so last century," y/n quipped, finally fully engaged in the conversation. "i'm thinking more along the lines of solving the eternal debate: cats or dogs?"

wonyoung's laughter died down, and she regarded y/n with a soft smile. "you're something else, you know that?"

as they continued bantering, y/n's heart raced. it was still hard to believe they were actually dating someone like wonyoung. the laughter, the teasing—it all felt so surreal.

just as y/n was about to take another bite of their sandwich, they suddenly remembered the hidden treasure in their bag. their eyes widened, and they glanced at wonyoung with an almost comical mix of excitement and apprehension.

"wonyoung," y/n began, their voice a tad nervous, "i... i have something for you."

wonyoung's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "oh? what's the occasion?"

wonyoung's eyes widened with surprise as she accepted the gift. "y/n, what's this?"

y/n's cheeks turned a shade of pink that rivaled a sunset. "i... i wanted to get you something special." they cleared their throat, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. "i may have, um, spent this month's allowance on it."

wonyoung carefully unwrapped the gift, revealing an exquisite piece of jewelry, something that would catch anyone's eye. she gasped softly, her fingers tracing the intricate design. "y/n, this is... this is stunning."

y/n grinned, their heart doing somersaults. "i'm glad you like it."

wonyoung's gaze shifted between y/n and the box, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "well, aren't you full of surprises today?"

y/n's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink. "i just... i saw this and thought of you. i know it's a bit extravagant, but i really wanted to get it for you."

wonyoung's laughter tinkled like wind chimes. reaching across the table, she brushed her fingers against y/n's hand, her eyes twinkling with affection. "... i must admit, spending a month's worth of allowance on a gift isn't exactly the wisest financial move, but i truly appreciate this."

y/n couldn't resist the gleam in wonyoung's eyes. with a mischievous grin, they leaned in closer, their voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "you know, wonyoung, they say that people who receive extravagant gifts are obligated to give the giver a kiss."

wonyoung raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "is that so? and who are these 'they' you speak of?"

y/n shrugged, their smile growing wider. "oh, you know, the wise sages of campus lore. they're quite adamant about it."

wonyoung chuckled softly, her gaze locked onto y/n's. "well, who am i to go against the wisdom of campus lore?" as she spoke, she carefully placed the necklace back in its box, sliding it away slightly.

y/n's cheeks were tinted with a rosy hue as they looked away, and wonyoung wore a smile that could outshine the sun. "well," wonyoung said, her voice a playful purr, "i suppose it's only fair that i follow tradition."

before y/n could react, wonyoung's lips pressed against theirs in a gentle, sweet kiss. it was as if time stood still, the world around them fading into a distant background as they savored the moment.

when they finally broke apart, y/n was left breathless and dizzy, their heart pounding in their chest. "wow," was all they managed to say, their voice a soft whisper.

wonyoung giggled, her eyes twinkling with affection. "you're such a dork, y/n."

y/n grinned unabashedly. "well, yeah. but hey, who can resist when they're in the presence of someone as amazing as you?"

wonyoung rolled her eyes in mock exasperation, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "you really know how to lay on the charm, don't you?"

y/n leaned back in their chair, a mischievous glint in their eyes. "well, i believe it's my duty to keep the amazing people around me entertained."

wonyoung chuckled softly, her fingers tracing the rim of her coffee cup. "you certainly have a unique way of doing that."

"oh, you haven't seen the half of it," y/n replied with a grin, their fingers drumming playfully on the table. "i've been practicing my pickup lines, you know."

wonyoung raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "oh really? do share."

y/n feigned a thoughtful expression, rubbing their chin dramatically. "hmm, let's see... are you a campfire? because you're hot and i want s'more."

wonyoung burst into laughter, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "that's... something, alright." she leaned back slightly, still chuckling.

"i have plenty more where that came from," y/n teased, their smile growing wider. "but i'll save them for special occasions."

wonyoung shook her head with an affectionate smile, her laughter fading into a delighted grin. "you say the worst pickup lines, ever."

y/n's expression turned softer, their eyes locking onto wonyoung's. "only because you bring out the best—or worst—in me."

wonyoung's smile was warm, her gaze locked onto y/n's. "well, your worst lines are still pretty endearing." she leaned in a little closer.

y/n leaned in as well, a playful glint in their eyes. "oh, just wait until you hear my best ones." their lips curled into a mischievous smile.

wonyoung's laughter blended seamlessly with the café's ambiance, and she shook her head in mock disbelief. "i can't believe i'm dating someone who actually uses pickup lines."

y/n's tone turned mock-innocent. "what can i say? i'm just a person of many talents."

wonyoung's eyes twinkled mischievously. "and do these talents include making me smile?"

y/n nodded dramatically, their hand resting over their heart. "absolutely. making you smile is my top priority, followed closely by making terrible puns."

wonyoung's laughter filled the air, a delightful melody that never failed to make y/n's heart skip a beat. she leaned back in her chair, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "well, you've certainly succeeded in making me smile today."

y/n couldn't help but grin, their gaze locked onto wonyoung's. "that's all i ever want to do."

as they basked in the warmth of each other's presence, y/n noticed wonyoung eyeing the unwrapped necklace on the table. with a gentle smile, y/n picked it up and held it out to her. "would you like to try it on?"

wonyoung's eyes widened with surprise, her fingers hovering over the exquisite piece of jewelry. "you're really okay with me trying it on?"

y/n nodded, their voice soft. "of course, it's meant for you, after all."

wonyoung carefully took the necklace, her fingers tracing the delicate chain and the shimmering pendant. she turned her attention back to y/n, her expression a mix of gratitude and wonder. "i can't believe you spent a month's worth of allowance on this, y/n."

y/n reached out, their fingers brushing against wonyoung's cheek. "you're worth every penny, wonyoung. that necklace is too small compared to how much you mean to me."

wonyoung's eyes glistened with emotion, and she leaned in to press a soft kiss to y/n's lips. it was a sweet, tender kiss that spoke volumes, a silent affirmation of their love.

when they finally pulled away, y/n whispered, "i'd spend a lifetime's worth of allowance just to see you smile."

wonyoung's smile was radiant, her fingers gently threading through y/n's hair. "so cheesy of you, y/n."

with the necklace draped around her neck, wonyoung looked even more stunning, if that was even possible. she leaned in to whisper in y/n's ear, "you know, i think you've officially spoiled me."

y/n's heart swelled at wonyoung's words, their fingers gently brushing against wonyoung's cheek. "and you've spoiled me too, in the best possible way."

as they gazed into each other's eyes, the air around them seemed to crackle with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. y/n's heart raced, and they found themselves leaning in, their lips meeting wonyoung's in a soft, delicate kiss. it was a kiss filled with the unspoken emotions that had been building between them, a sweet exchange of feelings that left them both breathless.

when they pulled away, their eyes locked onto each other's, their expressions a mix of surprise and wonder. y/n's voice was soft as they whispered, "i couldn't resist any longer."

wonyoung's smile was a mixture of delight and affection. "i've been waiting for that."

y/n's fingers played with a strand of wonyoung's hair, a playful glint in their eyes. "well, i had to catch up to all those times you stole kisses from me."

wonyoung chuckled softly, her fingers tracing patterns on the table. "i couldn't help myself. you're just too irresistible."

y/n's grin grew wider. "i'm glad you think so."

the café bustled around them, students coming and going, the aroma of coffee filling the air. but in that little bubble they had created, it was just y/n and wonyoung, two souls intertwined in a love that was as real as it was captivating.

y/n's fingers absentmindedly traced the rim of their coffee cup, their gaze never leaving wonyoung's. "you know, i've never been one to believe in fate, but meeting you has made me question that."

wonyoung's smile held a touch of playfulness, her gaze locking onto y/n's with a glimmer of curiosity. "wait a minute, is that one of those pickup lines you've been practicing?"

y/n's eyes widened in mock surprise, their hand placed dramatically over their heart. "i am deeply offended that you'd accuse me of such a thing! my words are as sincere as my undying love for... coffee."

wonyoung laughed, the sound tinkling like a melody. "oh, really? coffee, huh? that's quite the declaration."

y/n's lips curved into a mischievous grin. "well, you know, it's a classic. coffee has always been there for me, unlike certain tall and charismatic individuals."

wonyoung's playful expression turned into a mock pout. "are you saying i'm not dependable?"

y/n's gaze softened, their fingers brushing gently against wonyoung's knuckles. "on the contrary, you're the most dependable thing in my life. and the most extraordinary."

wonyoung's pout transformed into a warm smile, her thumb brushing over y/n's hand. "you really have a way with words, don't you?"

y/n shrugged, their expression bashful. "i guess they just come naturally when i'm around you."

wonyoung took another sip of her coffee, her gaze focused on the table for a moment as if lost in thought. y/n, ever the observer, watched her with a soft smile, taking in the way her features seemed to light up in the warm glow of the café's lighting. finally, unable to contain their admiration, they spoke.

"you're so pretty," y/n said softly, their voice a gentle affirmation of the thoughts running through their mind.

wonyoung looked up, her eyes meeting y/n's, and her cheeks took on a faint rosy hue. "stop it, you're making me blush."

y/n chuckled, their heart swelling with affection. "i can't help it. i'm just stating the facts."

wonyoung's laughter filled the air once again, a sound that never failed to bring a smile to y/n's face. "well, i have to say, your compliments are almost as charming as your terrible pickup lines."

y/n feigned offense, placing a hand over their chest dramatically. "how dare you insult my impeccable taste in pickup lines? they're an art form!"

wonyoung laughed even harder, her fingers wiping away a tear of mirth from the corner of her eye. "oh, believe me, they're a form of something, alright."

y/n grinned, their heart dancing with joy at the sight of wonyoung's laughter. and in that moment, as wonyoung's laughter echoed through the café, something welled up inside y/n—a feeling they had been carrying for a while, a truth they couldn't contain any longer.

"i've got to admit something," y/n's voice wavered slightly, their gaze never leaving wonyoung's.

wonyoung's curiosity was piqued, her eyes attentive as she leaned in a bit closer. "oh? what is it?"

a moment of vulnerability hung in the air, and y/n took a deep breath before continuing. "i think about you... a lot. like, i'm completely and utterly infatuated."

wonyoung's expression softened, her fingers finding their way to y/n's hand. "you're not alone in that, you know."

a playful grin played on y/n's lips. "really? you're infatuated with yourself too?"

wonyoung's pout transformed into a warm smile, her thumb brushing over y/n's hand. "you really have a way with words, don't you?"

y/n shrugged, their expression bashful. "i guess they just come naturally when i'm around you."

wonyoung's fingers found their way to y/n's, their touch sending shivers down y/n's spine. "you have a way of making my heart race too, you know? and i don't mind it one bit."

y/n's breath caught in their throat, their heart pounding like a drum in their chest. with wonyoung's fingers interlaced with theirs, the connection felt electric, a current of emotion flowing between them.

the air around them seemed to shimmer with an unspoken understanding, a shared sentiment that transcended words. and in that moment, the weight of their feelings hung in the space between them.

wonyoung's eyes held a mixture of affection and vulnerability as she whispered, "y/n, there's something i want to tell you."

y/n's heart skipped a beat, their anticipation growing as they waited for wonyoung's next words. "what is it?"

wonyoung took a deep breath, her voice steady but filled with emotion.

"i love you, y/n."

the world seemed to stand still for a moment, and y/n's breath caught in their throat. did they hear her right? was this real? for a split second, doubt crept in, freezing y/n in place.

wonyoung's gaze held a hint of playfulness, her smile warm. "cat got your tongue?"

y/n's eyes widened, and they quickly shook their head, the words tumbling out in a rush. "no, no! i mean... i love you too! i really, really do!"

wonyoung's laughter was like a gentle breeze, her eyes dancing with mirth. "oh, how the tables have turned."

y/n's cheeks flushed, and they tried to regain their composure. "i didn't mean to... i mean, i did, but..."

wonyoung leaned in, her lips brushing against y/n's ear as she whispered, "it's okay, you know. i don't mind being the first one to say it."

y/n's heart swelled, their embarrassment melting away in the warmth of wonyoung's reassurance. "well, now i've said it too. and i mean it."

wonyoung leaned back, her expression soft and affectionate. "i know you do. and i'm so glad you do."

y/n couldn't help but smile, their heart full to the brim with affection for the girl sitting across from them. "you know, i never thought i'd be lucky enough to experience something like this."

wonyoung's fingers danced along the rim of her coffee cup, her gaze never leaving y/n's. "and what's that?"

"being utterly and completely in love with you," y/n confessed, their voice a gentle whisper.

wonyoung's smile was a reflection of the stars that had aligned to bring them together. "well, get used to it, because i have a feeling that's not going to change anytime soon."

the corner of y/n's lips quirked up mischievously. "is that a promise?"

wonyoung's laughter, like the tinkling of wind chimes, filled the air around them. "absolutely. i'm not going anywhere."

the world continued to move around them—the café's patrons came and went, the lunchtime rush in full swing—but none of that mattered. in this cozy corner they had carved out for themselves, it was just the two of them, lost in the cadence of their conversation and the unspoken promises that hung in the air.

"y/n?"

wonyoung's voice pulled y/n from their thoughts, their focus narrowing solely on the person who held their heart.

"yeah?"

wonyoung's smile was as bright as the midday sun. "i love you."

y/n's heart swelled, their voice a gentle echo of the emotion that had taken root within them. "i love you too."

wonyoung's laughter danced through the air, a delightful melody that wrapped around them like a warm embrace. "well, you didn't seem as nervous this time," she teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

y/n playfully nudged her shoulder. "hey now, cut me some slack. it's not every day that someone as amazing as you confesses their love to me."

wonyoung's laughter continued, a joyful chorus that painted the air with happiness. "point taken," she managed to say through her giggles.

"shut up," y/n muttered, though their lips curved into a fond smile.

wonyoung's laughter lingered in the air one last time, a joyful serenade that resonated with the happiness in y/n's heart. with a gentle nudge, she leaned in to place a sweet kiss on y/n's cheek. "you're adorable," she said with an affectionate grin.

y/n's cheeks flushed, their heart dancing with joy. "and you're insufferable," they replied, their tone playful.

wonyoung raised an eyebrow, a mischievous spark in her eyes. "insufferable, huh? is that why you can't seem to get enough of me?"

y/n rolled their eyes with a mock exasperated sigh, a smile playing on their lips. "you caught me," they admitted, raising their arms in surrender.

as they shared a laugh, y/n found themselves enveloped in a sense of contentment that was as comforting as a warm embrace. in wonyoung's presence, everything felt right, and every worry seemed to melt away.

[gay-transformation-stories]

The Revenge

Elliot was tired and hungry as he walked home from his job at McDonald's. He had been frying burgers and fries all day, and his boss had been yelling at him constantly. He just wanted to go home and hide in his room where he could read his comics and play Minecraft. He was a typical nerd, with glasses, small, unathletic, shy, and with a big belly. He had no friends and was often bullied by others for his nerdy ways.

The worst of all was Chad. Chad was the exact opposite of Elliot. He was at least two heads taller than Elliot, very muscular, and above all, good-looking. He was the star of the wrestling team, winner of the regional championships, and the crush of all the girls. He looked like a young god and his body was a gift from heaven. But he was also arrogant, cruel, and sadistic. He loved to harass Elliot, beat him up, take his food, exploit him as a helper, or expose him in front of everyone. Elliot hated Chad more than anything else in the world. At the same time, he also felt attracted to Chad and envied his life.

To get home, Elliot had to cross the abandoned freight yard. It was evening and it was already starting to get dark. Elliot slipped through the hole in the fence as he always did. It was a forbidden shortcut, but also the shortest way home. He always hoped that he wouldn't meet anyone, especially not Chad or his friends.

But today he was out of luck. As he crawled through the hole in the fence, he saw Chad sitting on an old freight car with his legs apart in the sunset. He was smoking a cigarette and grinning wickedly when he spotted Elliot.

"Hey, fatty! What are you doing here? Looking for something to eat? Oink, oink!" Chad jeered and laughed.

Chad jumped off the freight car and ran after him. Elliot was startled and tried to run away, but it was too late. Chad caught him easily, grabbed his neck with one hand, while taking drags of his cigarette and blowing smoke in Elliot's face with the other.

"Let me go! Leave me alone!" Elliot whimpered.

"Why should I? You're my favorite toy. I have so much fun with you," said Chad, tightening his grip around Elliot's neck.

"Chad, please stop, you know I have asthma," Elliot said, gasping for air.

"You don't have asthma, you're just FAT," Chad said with a sneering grin. His eyes were full of contempt as he said it.

Elliot wanted to run away, but Chad held him up like a puppet. Elliot didn't know how much longer he could take it, he couldn't breathe anymore. He closed his eyes and wished for only one thing: that he could be in Chad's place. That he could be as big and strong as him. That he could be like him!!

Suddenly they heard a loud shout. A flashlight shone on them. They were no longer alone in the abandoned freight yard. They were standing between the wagons on the tracks, and one of the security guards had spotted them.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? GET OUT OF HERE IMMEDIATELY!! THIS IS PRIVATE PROPERTY!!" the security guard shouted.

The security guard aimed his stun gun at them. He pulled the trigger and two electric arrows shot out of the device. One hit Elliot in the back, the other hit Chad in the arm. They felt a powerful electric shock run through their bodies. They screamed in pain and fell to the ground.

Then everything went black. They both lost consciousness and fell to the ground...

Chad slowly opened his eyes and stared at the wall. He felt strange. He tried to remember what had happened. He had been holding Elliot, who was looking at him pleadingly. Then the guard came and shocked them both. Then everything went black. He heard a faint buzzing around him. He turned his head and saw a cell. He was in prison. He saw the bars that locked him up. He saw the other inmates staring at him hostilely. He saw the guard looking at him contemptuously and talking to the police.

He wanted to protest, but his voice failed him. He wanted to stand up, but his body did not obey him. He looked down at himself and was shocked. That was not his body. That was a small, misshapen body. He was wearing Elliot's clothes, Elliot's thick belly. He was Elliot!

He touched his face and felt the rough stubble. He ran his fingers through his greasy hair. He opened his mouth and saw his yellow teeth in a reflection. He was ugly.

He suddenly felt different. He felt weak and insecure. He felt helpless and small. He felt like Elliot.

He started screaming and thought: This is a nightmare. This must be a mistake. This must stop. He must get his body back. He must find Elliot and hold him accountable. Eventually, he managed to get up with difficulty. Everything was still spinning, he staggered to the cell door and started screaming, "LET ME OUT OF HERE, THIS IS A MISTAKE, LET ME OUT OF HERE IMMEDIATELY, DON'T YOU KNOW WHO I AM??"

Elliot also started to wake up slowly. He felt warm and secure, he hadn't felt this good in a long time. He felt the fresh sheets on his skin, he thought it was a dream. Elliot fell asleep again. It wasn't until the next morning that he slowly opened his eyes.

He looked around and noticed the many posters of naked women and race cars on the walls. Where was he?? This was definitely not his room. He was still slightly dazed and got up and went to the mirror. He couldn't believe what he saw. He was huge and muscular. His upper body was extremely well-trained and shone in the light. He wore jogging pants that emphasized his trained ass. He looked like an Abercrombie model. He looked like Chad.

Elliot touched his face and felt the smooth skin. He ran his fingers through his dark hair. He opened his mouth and saw his white teeth. He was perfect.

He suddenly felt different. He felt strong and confident. He felt powerful and attractive. He felt like Chad.

He turned around and looked at his back and shoulders. He couldn't help but flex his biceps and touch his abs. He couldn't stop looking at himself in the mirror. Elliot looked into his jogging pants and was impressed by what he saw. He could hardly believe that he was now so well-endowed.

He wondered what it would be like to live in Chad's body and what it would be like to sign up for Grindr with his new body.

But how could this happen?? He remembered the incident at the freight yard and the electric shock he and Chad had received. This probably led to the body swap. Chad's family probably learned directly from the sheriff about the incident and brought Chad home immediately. He thought that Chad was somewhere in his body. And wondered what Chad was doing right now and how he was feeling in his body.

He smiled and thought: This isn't so bad. Maybe he can take advantage of this. Maybe he can live Chad's life. Maybe he can have everything he ever wanted and teach Chad a little lesson with his new body.

Several days passed without Elliot hearing anything from Chad, and he began to worry. Was the shock perhaps too much for Chad?

Elliot tried to push the thought out of his mind and enjoy his new life. He could hardly believe how easy life at university suddenly was for him. With his new godly body, he was a magnet for attention. The other students admired him for his strength and looks, and his presence in the room was simply unmistakable. Elliot enjoyed the positive looks and compliments he received from others. It was a completely new feeling for him to be so accepted and admired.

He found it incredibly satisfying how easy it was for him to shine in social situations. Suddenly, he was invited by everyone, and people seemed to be drawn to him. Elliot felt a new energy within himself, and his self-confidence grew with each passing day. Life was suddenly so much easier, and he enjoyed how easy he had it. At the same time, he tried to be nice to everyone; he wanted to be a better person than Chad.

One day after class, Elliot went to his locker to get his things. He wanted to go home quickly and relax. He had had a long and tiring day.

He opened his locker and looked for his backpack. He couldn't find it. Instead, he found a note with an ugly drawing of himself and a message:

"Hey Fatty! I stole your backpack! If you want it back, you have to meet me at the old warehouse! But be warned: I have a few surprises for you! HAHAHA! Your best friend Chad"

Elliot, in Chad's body, angrily crumpled up the note. He knew it was a trap, but he wanted to confront the situation. He decided to finally teach Chad a lesson.

He went to the old warehouse on the edge of town. It was an abandoned building that used to serve as a storage facility for building materials. It was dark, dirty, and dangerous.

As Elliot entered the warehouse, he heard a voice from the shadows:

"There you are, you loser! I've been waiting for you! Because of you, I spent the last few days in custody because your stupid mother didn't have the money for bail."

It was Chad in Elliot's chubby, small body, emerging from behind a stack of wooden planks.

He held Elliot's backpack in his hand and grinned wickedly. "Do you want your backpack back? Then come and get it!"

Chad threw the backpack on the floor and stood with his legs wide apart. He still believed he could intimidate the now huge Elliot. He still believed he could beat Elliot. He still believed he could defeat the now muscular Elliot.

The now small and chubby Chad was not stupid. He knew he was physically inferior and would have no chance if he fought fairly. He took every opportunity to surprise or confuse Elliot. He threw things at his head and sand in his eyes. It didn't take long for Elliot to lose control of the situation. He was overwhelmed; he had not expected this. He thought it would be an easy game for him in Chad's muscular body, but he was wrong.

Elliot fell back into his defensive posture from before; he froze, curled up, and hoped it would all be over quickly. But Chad was angry, angrier than ever before in his life. He kicked Elliot in the shin and then punched him with all his might in the soft parts. Elliot fell to the ground on his knees and groaned. In the past, Chad would have been satisfied with that, but not this time. Too much had happened; he had lost his body and his life to the fat nerd, and he was going to make him pay.

Chad grabbed one of the many wooden planks lying around and hit Elliot with all his strength on the back of the head. Elliot immediately lost consciousness and fell to the ground. When Elliot came to, he was kneeling on the dusty concrete floor of the abandoned factory. Elliot felt his muscles ache and his joints crack. His hands and feet were tied together with tape behind his back and attached to an old radiator. He had a sock in his mouth that muffled his screams. He was now a prisoner waiting for his torture. He couldn't imagine how he got into this situation. Chad wanted his body back and Elliot was going to pay for taking it away from him. Elliot wept bitterly, his snot running from his nose. Chad stood nearby like an uninvolved spectator with a crowbar. "Well, how do you like your new body? I have to say, you have good taste. Too bad you can't handle it. What a waste," said Chad. Elliot was terrified, he tried to scream and free himself, but it was useless. He felt helpless and alone. He wondered how he was going to get out of this situation. Elliot tried to speak, but his mouth was still stuffed with an old sports sock. Which Chad eventually pulled out. Elliot, who was almost 2.00 meters tall muscle man, began to cry: "Please Chad, please let me go, I don't know how the bodyswap happened, please Chad, you have to believe me." Chad: "I believe you, you don't have enough backbone for such an action, fatso. But I still think you're not entirely innocent. What happened at the old freight yard happened because you wanted it to." Elliot: "Please Chad, I'll do anything you want, but please let me go now. I'll really do ANYTHING for you." Elliot looked like a fighter, but he felt like a weakling.

In the end, Elliot continued to be harassed and tormented by Chad, even though he now had a muscular body. Chad enjoyed his power over Elliot and treated him like a slave. Elliot felt trapped and scared of Chad, but he didn't know how to break free. He longed for his old life back, but it seemed out of reach. Chad took advantage of the situation and pushed Elliot further into despair. He forced Elliot to work for him and to harm others. Chad used Elliot's new muscular body as a shield against others. He told him what to do and threatened to inflict pain on him if he didn't obey. Elliot, who was afraid of being hurt even more, obeyed him and helped him cover up his criminal activities. Chad knew he could exploit Elliot's fear to manipulate and control him. Chad's thoughts now revolved around Elliot's body.

He saw it as a tool to help him expand his power and tyrannize others. He became obsessed with controlling the body and using it to achieve his goals. Chad treated Elliot's muscle body like an object that belonged to him and no longer like a human being. Chad began to feel increasingly drawn to the body he once owned. He started to intensify his obsession with his old body and spent hours looking at old photos and remembering what it was like to live in that body. Chad was obsessed with how perfect Elliot looked in his new body. Every morning, he styled Elliot's hair and carefully chose the perfect outfit for him. He shaved Elliot's body daily in the shower and selected the perfect body spray for him. Chad wanted to make sure that Elliot was outwardly just as perfect as he once was. He spent hours styling and perfecting Elliot's body until he was finally satisfied. Elliot became a life size toy.

But despite all his efforts, he couldn't really hide Elliot's lack of confidence and insecurity. Elliot was uncertain in his new body and often felt uncomfortable, even though he now looked physically strong and impressive. He was afraid that he was no longer himself, that he had changed. He no longer felt comfortable in his own skin and had difficulty adjusting to his new physical strength. He often avoided looking in the mirror because he couldn't bear the image he saw. His eyes reflected this insecurity and despite his muscular body, he still seemed like a nervous nerd. Chad had been shaving Elliot daily for some time now, but something was different this morning. As he ran the razor over Elliot's muscular chest, he suddenly felt a strange tingling in his own groin. Chad had never before reacted so strongly to the touch of another body and couldn't believe he was so attracted to his own former, muscular, and masculine body. As he shaved Elliot's ass, he couldn't help but let his hands glide over the tight muscles he discovered in Elliot's body. The tingling in his own body grew stronger and he felt his heart beating faster. Chad had never felt attracted to a man before, but in this moment, he couldn't help but realize that he was drawn to Elliot's body. Chad quickly withdrew and tried to suppress these new and confusing feelings. He had no idea what was happening to him or how to process these unexpected sensations. But he knew that he was now looking at Elliot's body differently than before and that he couldn't ignore this new attraction.

The End

[rosehippiefield]

I love that no character is one-dimensional:

Sara is not goody two shoes protagonist with unwavering hope (I like Makoto it's not his slander I really promise I love kind guys), she has the highest chance of winning. It can't happen to ultimate cinammon roll. The balance between her caring side that wants to protect everybody and using charisma to her advantage is so tricky and yet it works (though I am a bit baffled at how she changes without Joe in AI simulations).

Joe is not only cheery cheesy best friend that dies just so you can cry about it (even if it's true as well). Joe is distrustful, he is scared and he kind of wants to escape with sacrifice card knowing what it entails. So he came up with a plan where good people being majority would live, and if not he can feel less guilt. Amazing idea! And we all know how he returns in second chapter. A sing of ungrounded guilt that doesn't correspond to reality whatsoever but can't be combated with logic alone. In best case scenario it is defeated with reminder of how real Joe behaved, showing how faulty our perception can get from trauma.

Keiji is not just sexy detective that supports Sara, oh no. This guy gets close to our heroine on purpose and I dare say kind of uses her for own gain. Then, his trauma doesn't equal all of his character nor it magically justifies killing Megumi, it simply explains his current actions. And of course I really want to believe that he is not some creep flirting with people in most suspicious way. He just needs excuse for evading akward questions. This man, deprived of sleep because of his sins, is both cunning and kind, capable of cruelty and striving to be like his idol.

Kanna and Gin are not annoying children that constantly need saving or exist to evoke sympathy. In Kanna's case sympathy is natural, but it is not the only thing going for her. Kanna is about giving a chance, letting go regrets, making thought-out sacrifice and when it fails moving on to make sure it doesn't have to happen. She develops constantly, bringing ideas to the table and trying to get all group stay united. Kanna makes conscious choice to spend time with Shin to get information, so while she can be manipulated it's not always the case and she's not all naїveness. Her arc of overcoming trauma and insecurity may seem familiar to characters from other media, but it is unique and distinctive.

Gin is autism representation without making him vilain or weird. He has some pecularities, for example, wearing animal-like clothes and repeating animal sounds, and yet nobody bats an eye, so surely he's no outcast or useless (on the contrary, he is quite useful remembering names in the bar, using scent, helping morally etc). Gin's the least morally gray of the cast, but it doesn't mean he is cardboard nice support kid either: he has his dislikes or his own thoughts (he is quite distrustful toward Kanna because he's younger and doesn't use age as justification for her actions).

Reko seems simple enough, a hot-tempered rock star, emo/punk lady many would like to date. Strict to the strong, kind to the weak. She had a lot of changing in the past and it continues here, she is becoming softer. But it's not her only trait: she's a talented singer that was interested purely in music and it's perfection. She ignored to some degree her happiness, her band, her beloved brother for the sake of art. She wasn't indifferent, but appeared as such. And now, finally having a better understanding of what's important and bright future ahead she ends up in a death game with Alice. Their plotline is prominent in second chapter and is devastatingly tragic.

Alice looks like comic relief with his exaggerated reactions and bizzare choice of words (personally I love this type of speaking it's cool). But he is actually not only a scaredy cat: he is a person without a purpose. He searched for it in a path with sister, but no happiness came, only murder of Midori. Alice hides his soft side to not be hurt, he on purpose builds a wall and appears so arrogant because when he was openly kind the close ones were indifferent (not to mention prison, I admire how Alice kept his sanity at all).

Shin is a prime example of morally gray character done right (majority here are morally gray but with him being antagonist it's far more prominent). I have seen various post about fandom interpreting him either as "totally evil manipulator", "Kokichi/Nagito kinnie", "cinnamon roll he did nothing wrong" or "what a loser". But he's not just good or bad, him having antagonist status doesn't make him Ouma copycat or Komaeda's successor, and while I get him being a loser is funny it's not the only thing to define him (though it's more of a joke than serious interpretation). Shin is very insecure and distrustful guy who "sees shadows where there aren't any" (quoting Sara) due to 0% and wants to live, using all methods... until he gets attached. He plots mainly against people he considers his enemies (to tell the truth, with 0% anybody could be classified as enemy), and I think he wouldn't abandon those close to him like Kanna, perhaps partly due to guilt of using her. In general, his actions, while obviously not the best (and he knows it perfectly well), come from fear of death and paranoia rather than pure malice or craziness.

Nao may appear as mentally weak girl you constantly have to help and can't rely on. Yes, Nao has problems with dependance on other, but she has her own aces up her sleeves. She's creative, smart, open-minded. For me her advantage lies in unexpectedness: who knew she saw through AI's lies? For her own sake and for the group Nao is capable of difficult actions like puching fake Reko. This girl is about growing more responsible, learning to trust your own judgement (she has great intuition by the way) and becoming independent.

Kai is quite too unique for stereotypes in my mind, a mysterious but awfully suspicious man. He looks so feminine but don't let that deceive you: he's assasin. Assasin that doesn't kill. Kai is the person escaping from his bloodied, horrible, traumatic past into right, calm, tranquil future with only householding chores and not killing attempts to protect... wrong people (Sara is not bad person, but her father is likely to be tied to Asunaro). So poor househusband is leaping from one abusive enviroment into another, but now being genuinely loyal and unaware of all skeletons kept in closet.

Q-Taro is certainly not only kindhearted big muscular guy (that dies in certain chapter) or stupid. Yes, he looks like parody on American, yes, all his accents make his speech a bit silly and stereotypical. No, he's not dumb. In fact, many plot twists involve him in some way (especially the banquet). Also, he could sacrifice his life for somebody, but he is equally capable of doing the opposite. Q-Taro is quite honest but not above tricks to leave this place, he cares for th group (taking into accout his team-spirited profession) but prioritises himself until later; he knows how sinful people are including him and that allows him to forgive quickly.

Finally, Mishima dies so early you don't hope to see him after 1.1. But if you think he's the shock value first victim that dissapears after, you are not quite right. Mishima, being dead, yet has influence on story as well, either through mystery of his head or AI that appear three times (maybe something is really up with him). Not to mention Ytts where his character shines and not burns. Him being almost perfect doesn't ruin anything, it motivates to become better as well because he wasn't always like this. Plus, he's no ideal, Mishima understands how world works but is passionate to a fault, not to mention his suspicious behavior. He is example of a person that matured, overcame his main faults and inspires the same in others.

Of course, everyone can interpret these characters differently and it's great, those perseptions can be true all at once. They are so interesting and captivating thanks to many layers of depth where everybody can see something unique.

[infoglitch]

I have opinions. On jaune. (Shipping wise)

To clarify this is just my opinion. And my opinion is

garbage

But I want to talk about my favorite noodle so stfu Im talking.

And this is not me going "oh this is how jaune should be treated in every single shiping fic". This is just me acting like I have a huge dick and stating my terrible, terrible opinions.

Let's start.

1: jaune doesn't get bitches. The Bitches, get him.

Not to some of you I know you're all kicking screaming vomiting and crying because "obobobo b-but jaune has to pull bitches! I-its the only way I can escape this cr-"

SHUT

First, Jaune is not a self insert nor is he a character we project ourselves on. he is a character who has flaws and has his own personality.

He's an idiot and most of the times is a pessimist trying to be an optimist.

He gets things wrong, and he does really dumb stuff like faking his transcripts. He's not you, he's not me, he's not anyone else aside from Jaune

So when I say he doesn't get bitches, that's not being mean it's just kind of the truth, Jaune does not have a lot of confidence and when he does flirt he does it in really terrible ways, (just ask V1-3 Weiss)

But that's not everything I say because I also made sure to add that the bitches get him. Jaune is the kind of character who fails when he's trying because hes trying to seem like he's got things under control, he's going overboard which results in him comically failing, but when he's just being himself being a genuine person he does things really well. He is very much terrible at flirting and man has no skill with women, and he lacks confidence. Which leads to number 2.

2: Jaune is not cool. (In a good way)

Look I love my noodle man but even I can admit he is cringy. He does things to the max when he sets his mind to it which will fail. Because when he does those things he doesn't have either the confidence or the understanding he needs to do it. Take literally any attempt with Weiss he's tried asking her out, he's failed constantly because one he tries to impress which with Weiss makes him seem like he's just another fake face, after her heart for her name (which he isn't, it's just due to misunderstanding) he runs head first without the context or the confidence. He tries to impress but he comes off awkward like he doesn't know what he's doing. (Like that one time he tried asking her to the dance by playing the guitar and FAILING miserably.)

But just because jaune doesn't have the confidence or understanding doesn't mean he can't be cool.

He just can't be cool all the time. Jaune is a terrible liar and he's just upfront alot of the time. He's genuine and he is metaphorically unable to actually hurt people without getting welled up with emotions.

He's only killed ONE person, ONE actual person and we all know what that did to me. He broke and he was probably horribly traumatized.

Next is number 3

3: JAUNE IS NOT A SEX PRO.

Do I even need to elaborate on this? Please I don't want to elaborate on this!

I have to? Oh god... Ok FINE I'll elaborate

There are many, MANY jaune fics that I don't like in certain aspects. And if their smut expecting to see atleast one thing.

Jaune not being a Dom. Or you know, not having experience.

Jaune.. is a idiot and he's... He's not skilled in a lot of things. And one thing that just BURNS me is jaune switching up and being all dominant and aggressive (that's one of the things I wanna avoid writing jaune as)

Just let the noodle be tender or Inexperienced, At least if this is his first time.

And on a semi-related note I remember reading this one nightshade fanfic that I really liked, where it had Blake asking Weiss for advice on Jaune when it came to sex and in the fic Blake had experience meanwhile jaune didn't and was nervous if they did fuck he wouldnt reach a vague standard he put. It was a really good fic, it was really hot as well and I can't find it and it drives me up the fuckin wall because I really wanna read it again because it helped prove my point when it comes to jaune having sex and it's just- UGH. (Please if you know what the fick is just message me the link I beg you, PLEASE of you find send it to ME!)

Look I just REALLY like jaune (to a concerning degree even) and I just REALLY wanna talk about how I view him and I just... I just can't cause I suck at writing essays cause my brains just-

"ok I'm gonna write this- OH I GOT A NEW IDEA IM GONNA WRITE THIS- oh but theres also this and- BUNNY RABBIT"

Ugh I hate my brain and my attention span.

Anyway my trashy opinions on my second favorite character aside. Have a golden day and cheers.

Rock on till ya drop tata mothafuckers 🤘

[cosmichighpriestess]

Chosen Ones, Be Wise As Serpents and Innocent As Doves.

One thing about you Chosen One, is you know how to heal yourself. It doesn’t matter how many attacks you have had to go through in your lifetime. You always survive and dodge each bullet shot at you, and you always take accountability for your actions because you never intend to hurt anyone. 444 as I say this. You are a precious gem in this world, you are an extremely rare diamond, extremely exclusive person that few deserve full access to. You are a beacon of purity. You walk with Yeshua.

God chose you, and your ancestors chose you to break generations worth of trauma, toxic cycles and curses once and for all to evolve our species and planet. This life chose you because you were the only person in your bloodline who could break the cycles. Yes You. You have the hardest job on the planet. It is not for the faint of heart. Every single lower timeline reality rejected you and pushed us out. Every single person could not handle our authenticity and light because it threatened their shadow. Every single job and career rejected us, and God made you quit or get fired because your energy was too valuable, too precious, to be wasting time in a place that was not in alignment with your higher path. We felt rejected by the entire world.

Always remember when someone rejects you that is their own limitations and limiting beliefs feeling threatened and is not a reflection of your true worth. They are rejecting apart of themselves what they are capable of being. What you may not have realized in those draining times is that after you left they realized they lost out on someone very real, and special. When you were in their lives they received good luck, abundance, promotions, fame, praise, light and favor. They thought your abundant energy belonged to them and was their own hard work and energy. But they were just using and abusing others to get up.

As soon as you left and they rejected you, the favor went out the door and they lost everything, lost their good reputation, their jobs, their world became dark and they received bad luck and karma and only met inauthentic people who lied to them, used them and cheated on them. They treated us like we were worth two cents. They mistook your kindness for weakness and naivety. You were reading them and seeing right through them the entire time observing in silence. You are at the top of the food chain appearing to be at the bottom. God did this on purpose to teach them a lesson.

That is why you are always isolated and alone cursebreaker, black sheep. God/Source needed you isolated so you could soley focus on healing yourself and the matters at hand without lower vibrational energies (narcissists) constantly using and abusing your healing energy, vampirac distractions. Taking and taking what they have not worked hard on like you have done daily. They stole your crown and they look like a clown wearing it. They love to profit off all your hard work giving you zero credit for it. They can’t even sit with themselves and be in their own energy.

You send people into ego deaths on the daily. Isn’t it comical and infuriating, how they benefit off your abundant energy and use it to feed their ego, and they look down on you still? Yet, have the audacity to copy and steal from you continuously? As if they put in the hours and hours of introspection, deep prossesing, pushing through intense emotions, manifesting, meditating connecting to Source and healing like you did? Isn’t it funny that your demons who now work for you, have been testing your copycats with integrity lessons everyday and they keep failing? Even in the midst of your darkest experiences, you learned a lesson from them. You are the opposite of fake. You’re not fake love and light. You’re balanced in your darkness. You know yourself. They think you’re full of it. You are not narcissistic, you are pure divine love.

They think they can duplicate your pure, divine energy. Chosen One, you will often be copied, but you can never be duplicated. You are One of One. You are irreplaceable. People are afraid to approach you, because you are a forbidden territory. You have spiritual bodyguards. Your energy is so unique and powerful. Your light is blinding. From the higher perspective of Source you are equal to everyone and everyone is loved unconditionally and forgiven by Source, but the difference between you and most people is that God/ Source can trust you, and you trust Source/God/The Universe completely. Your love is unconditional.

Because you know Source/God/The Universe is your provider and protector. You’ve experienced it. Your faith could move mountains. While others seek to get even, retaliate and cause more unnecessary pain and trauma in an already dark world, you Chosen One, trust God will handle your burdens for you, keeping your energy pure and safe for Source to trust you. You are not a victim, you are a warrior, you didn’t let your circumstances define you. You didn’t let what other people did ruin your future. You decided to keep going despite all odds against you. You are the definition of resilience.

Chosen One, you have so much ammunition, it’s like you have two machine guns behind your back at all times, as well as an army behind you that you never unleash on any soul. No matter how much they betray you. You have information and secrets that could destroy lives. Yet, you keep it between you and God because you understand what you put out is what you get back. You have excellent karma. Even if you did share sensitive information, you shared it with complete strangers who would never even know who you were talking about.

You forgive people so often with no apologies because you have been burned so many times you lost count and it doesn’t even phase you anymore what toxic people do and say to you. Even though your anger is valid, anger is a completely normal emotion and you never attempt to burden anyone with your anger or pain. You feel extreme guilt for ever unintentionally hurting another. Your heart is so pure, rare and so beautiful.

They see you frustrated, angry and crying and call you weak, mentally ill even though they refuse to feel their pain and heal themselves so they give you all their pain and anger to transmute for them. They unleash their anger onto you instead of feeling it fully themselves. Yet, you’re the weak one? You have been a safe space for others to unload and vent to about their lives, their problems and heartbreaks but no one gave you the time and space to tell your heavy story, to share your problems and vent about your trauma, extreme spiritual warfare and your heavy story with. They hold space for each other while leaving you to be ignored.

They treated you like you were not important and like you hadn’t been through anything, they talked right over you, changed the subject or completely ignored you and walked away. There was no one who wanted to listen to your intense stories and pain, so you began to minimize the trauma and pain you went through and you actually started to believe that you weren’t worthy of being heard and listened to. You questioned if it was even important.

You cried to God instead and God counted every tear you shed. Your heart hardened and you stopped trusting people to be vulnerable with. You felt like you were stuck in limbo because you were the bridge to heaven all along. You became so silent and so distant that people thought there was nothing special about you besides your looks or what you could do for them. You were so overlooked, misunderstood and forgotten about that they treated you like a burden instead of a gift from God.

You waited quietly, patiently for them for years to wake up from their endless ignorance, but they had too much pride and they were stuck in their ego, they never wanted to give you credit for how strong you were inside. You held it together even though you wanted to die most days. There was a boiling lava fire within you, that was holy sacred rage, because even your anger is divine.

All you ever desired was to be free and have peace from this horrible life but you could never be free because you were always in service to others with only breadcrumbs in return from them. They always put you in danger. You worked so hard everyday with almost nothing to show for it in your 3D physical reality. You worked blindfolded through a dark maze not knowing what the point of it all was, longing for promise, a miracle, a rainbow at the end of the storm but your days just kept getting harder and harder.

Chosen One, your beautiful, inner glow shines so brightly that your light is seen from the heavens and all the years that you waited for things to get better have finally come. God did not forget about you. The Universe never gave up on you. God needed them to underestimate you so God could prepare your table for you in front of them. You are so grateful for every experience you’ve been through. You still found a way to be grateful even if things were not what you wanted them to be. That’s what makes you so strong and resilient.

You were always meant to fly and escape your torturous life, you are a walking talking miracle. You are a gift anywhere you step foot in. You’ve been looking for a miracle, but you were the miracle the entire time. You saved yourself, and you saved so many others and because you chose to serve others for the light, you chose to love and forgive those who betrayed you, you will finally go home now to the place you always belonged. I know it’s been very lonely, but you will always have God. Don’t forget about God when you receive your blessings. God said, don’t worry about a thing because every little thing is gonna be alright. Don’t worry you’re safe and provided for. You can build a castle with all the bricks they threw at you. And you did. You built your castle and now you sit on your throne.

You are free now. Because you have suffered so much, it is a law in this Universe that you MUST as a law, experience ecstasy for the rest of your life. Ecstasy and heaven on Earth is yours for the taking from now on. Your hunger to taste heaven while you were burning in hell has finally paid off. Congratulations light warrior, curse breaker, sacred rebel, light holder, earth angel, black sheep, God, Goddess, Chosen One you won the war. God has an extraordinary plan for you.

You can take off your warpaint now, take off your armor, no more suffering, give your burdens to God and watch what God is about to do for you in front of the very people who sought to destroy you. Let people talk sh about you and stay unbothered. Forgive. Forgive. Forgive them and love them but let it go. Let their jaws drop when they see you next. Be anxious for nothing. Rest your tired soul. You’ve done the hard part already. Hold the light. Continue to count all your blessings. Never settle for less than you deserve. Breathe. Be proud of yourself. Protect your peace at all costs. Be at peace shining star. I love you, God loves you unconditionally. Get ready.

[mythicalartistx]

Sea Salt Trio is the best Trio and here's why

The three trios are compared constantly and Sea Salt Trio is the one that work the best as the whole, but before we get into why it's why the others don't work as well.

As stated in my previous post, Destiny Island trio failed since the three never rarely interact much as a whole and are often in duos and Kairi and Riku barely interact as it is. Kairi and Sora seem awkward, while Riku and Sora seem to have the strongest relationship of the trio. And they also don't hate each other, none of the people in the trios really hate each other and all seem to be good friends.

Now Wayfinder Trio is much better however what makes it not work as well is the miscommunication. In Birth By Sleep they constantly mistrust one another and it's what lead to their ultimate demise.

However, I will say they all seemingly care for each other. All their actions come from a place of worry and care. In Kingdom Hearts 3, when they finally reunited they cried tears of joy and we're glad to have each other again. It's such a good scene. And unlike the Destiny Trio they still talk to each other and care.

And finally the Sea Salt Trio. The reason why this one works is that they all have a strong friendship. They start off as zombie like beings and form an unlikely friendship with Axel. The trio discuss silly things like being friends and identities while eating Sea Salt Ice Cream. They all also want the best for each other.

Xion wants to be with her friends. She likes being with them. And then she goes to run off for the sake of Roxas. She doesn't want him to get destroyed/ lose his powers. When Xion is weak Axel comes up with a plan so Saïx doesn't find out. Xion dies so she won't steal more of Roxas and hopes Kingdom Hearts is also destroyed.

The three of plan to go to the beach one day together. And their trio is from the simple moments of them talking every day after their missions until they realize bad things, but that's not initially their own fault. Axel want things to stay the same and cherish those moments, Roxas wants answers but cherish his friends, Xion is similar to Roxas.

Then after in 2, Axel keeps clinging onto those moments — the friendship between them (even Xion but he doesn't quite remember it was her, this is shown through the novel).

He liked how they made him be able to feel again.

Then he ends up sacrificing himself for Sora since he in some sense is part of Roxas and he knows he'll do a good thing. In KH3 while training with Kairi, he remembers Xion again. His eyes cry because of what his heart remembers. Kairi reminds himself of Xion, when he gets Ice Cream on the day before the battle he gets three which Saïx teases him for.

He remembers both of them and he wants them back. They are important and are his friends. And his whole reunion and even the battle before is bittersweet. Just like the Wayfinder Trio their reunion is really great.

And I just want to point out that none of these characters hate each other. Literally they don't. I've made posts in the past about some misconceptions are that Riku and Kairi hate each other/ don't like the other and that Axel and Xion apparently do? But they don't. There is literally in game and novel content that disproves this.

But this is why Sea Salt Trio works the best, but that doesn't mean the others are bad. Like I enjoy Riku and Sora moments and I strongly wish for Kairi to do more and make other friends. And I love the Wayfinders. This is why I think it works the best and it's not necessary my favorite.

And I have to say I've seen some amazing fanon comics or things of the trios that made them even better like Destiny Trio for example.

My favorite Trio actually isn't a canon trio and it's all from fanon— that's right shout out to the Lost Trio where some of them don't even interact in game.

(I need more lost trio content actually though, they're just so silly and funny to me)