#maybe it’s not just escapism if it’s actually a way out

[homunculus-argument]

I come from a culture that has no nudity taboo - nudity is not considered inherently sexual, or somehow traumatising to witness. What that means in practice is that there is a clearly drawn line between sexual and non-sexual nudity. There is nothing wrong or inappropriate about nudity in a sexual context, and nothing wrong or inappropriate about nudity in a non-sexual context. However, it is 100% inappropriate to be nude in a situation where it is not obvious from context whether this is sexual or not.

I've seen random kids who briefly escaped from their parents bolt across a public park buck-ass naked after they were playing in the water fountain and their parents were in the middle of changing their kid from wet clothes to dry clothes when the small nudist escaped. Changing your small kid's clothes right there in public is ok because there is obviously nothing sexual about a child whose clothes got wet. But although people will have baby pictures of their kids in the bath or just running around the house like that because sometimes little apes hate clothes for some reason, it's considered common sense to not share those pictures on facebook mom groups and such, because you have no way of knowing who's seeing them, and that blurs the line of context.

It all boils down to the clearly defined context. Bathing nude in the same sauna with five of your co-workers at the office christmas party? Clearly nonsexual, therefore completely fine. Your friend-with-benefits inviting you to come over and opening the door in nothing but a doggy collar and the most porn-scented perfume? Clearly sexual, therefore completely fine. A woman checking her breasts for lumps in the gym lockers just before or after a shower? Clearly non-sexual, therefore completely fine.

But if you went to the bank today and there's some guy who walks in and immediately strips naked, doing his banking business wearing nothing but a deep smile and being clearly very content with this situation, you have no way of telling whether he's getting kicks out of this or not. There is no contextual reason for him to be nude. Therefore, that is inappropriate.

Then you go home and post on tumblr - as one does - going like "there was some dude completely fucking buck-ass naked in the bank today. That was fucking weird and I wish he had not done that." And someone immediately swoops into inform you that actually nudity is not inherently sexual or inappropriate, and there are cultures out there that have no nudity taboo. It's not fair to call somebody a freak for something like that, maybe that guy was just finnish.

[actias-android]

Y'all got to know other nonhumans in school? Damn...I was already an adult when I got here. (Then again, I'm not sure I'd have been mentally normal about it when I was younger. I had too much going on and I'm pretty sure I'd have treated it like some kind of super-special escape from reality.)

The problem I run into is that a lot of what I have to say is just really hard to put into words because it's mostly the kind of thoughts you arrive at via long-lived experience, and the rest of it isn't that exciting to people. Because a lot of the second type is, 'Hey, stop trying so hard. Don't stress yourself out about this. Chill. Enjoy the ride. You don't even have to be an expert about yourself, let alone anybody else. Relax on the clannish behavior a bit. Let go of making mountains out of the molehills that are various alter/nonhuman communities. None of this is the end of the world, none of it is even provable so it's fine to treat it with some levity, and most of all none of it is worth the kind of middle school clique drama the communities are known for.'

And that's like...it goes over about like a lead balloon. The people who need to hear it don't wanna hear it, and the people who don't need to hear it just kind of nod, and in either case you can't even lead the horse to water, let alone make them drink. Younger people want there to be big universal narratives with answers, and for things to be important, and understandable. Everything is just that much more intense when you're young. You need to know and you need to know RIGHT NOW and emotions run high and it wouldn't be such a global trope if middle schools weren't legitimately full of drama because that's just the developmental stage, you know?

And then you get older and (hopefully) realize that was all kind of unnecessary actually.

And then you get older still and realize that as unnecessary as it was, you still probably couldn't have done it any other way. You can be young or wise, pick one. There's no way to actually impart what you've learned on someone who isn't there yet.

So it just ends up easier to occasionally fling some philosophical rambling into the void, hoping it'll maybe connect with someone who's at a point in their journey that they'll get it, and otherwise stay quiet until the urge to make words strikes again. Like, you've done your heavy introspection. Not a lot jiggles the new ideas loose anymore, that tree has been shaken of most of its fruit now, and you've gotta think about stuff like what's for dinner later.

One thing they don't tell you about being an adult therian is that much of the online community gradually feels more and more alienating. Posts about wearing gear to school or writing about your theriotype at college stop feeling relatable. And it's admittedly hard not to get grumpy about it. Sure, occasionally you see some insights about working a 9 to 5 when you're a dog, or managing your appointments when you're a bird, but most of the short-form writings you come across feel less like the relevant ramblings of your peers, and more like looking through a window at a life you had to leave behind. I don't miss school, good gods, nothing could ever make me wish I was 16 again. But I do miss the relative simplicity of it, and the ease with which I related to other school-age therians.

[kyeomofhearts]

Bad Boy!Wonwoo x Reader Headcannons

[☻] found this little gem while going through my (various) drafts! this was honestly what pushed me to create back for more sooo… why not post it while you guys wait for part 3? just think of it as a little prologue hehe <3

Bad Boy!Wonwoo who would almost always come to class late. Not caring about the attention he would get for disrupting the class.

Bad Boy!Wonwoo who would come into campus with a sleek black motorcycle, helmet in hand, and a face that rarely displayed emotion.

Bad Boy!Wonwoo who never actually caused any trouble, well, at least not anymore. But there was something that made people wary of him—including you.

Bad Boy!Wonwoo who you've known for almost your whole life—having gone to the same elementary, middle, and high school…and now university. You both even shared the same group of friends but you two were never particularly close by any means.

Bad Boy!Wonwoo who was always just there. He was the quiet kid who never stood out too much, always hanging around your shared friend group but never making an effort to be the center of attention. 

If you had to describe him back then, you would say he was reserved. You knew how he could get when he was with his close group of friends so it wasn’t like he was shy, he just wasn’t open with everyone.

You don’t remember ever having a full-blown conversation with him either. Just small interactions here and there, nothing too serious.

Which is why his new behavior is odd to you.

Bad Boy!Wonwoo who had eyes all over him for the first few months of school—but he didn’t mind them.

Not when he had his sights set on you.

It started off small. A glance that lingered for too long, a smirk that felt too intentional, or a passing comment that seemed designed to get under your skin. 

Then, suddenly, he was everywhere.

Showing up at the same campus cafe you normally went to. Catching your arm just as were about to walk past him. Even walking you to your classes—you felt like it was nearly impossible to escape Wonwoo these days.

Even when you talked with him, you noticed just how close he was. It was just enough to make you move back, just enough to make you aware of him. 

It wasn’t flirting, not really, but the way he watched your reactions made it feel like some kind of game. 

You don’t understand why he’s suddenly interested in you (if you can even consider it like that). 

But… after all these years, why now?

What you didn’t know was that Wonwoo had liked you for many years by now. It wasn’t anything crazy, just a small hallway crush if anything.

He never planned on acting upon his interest in you, if he was being honest. Preferring to admire from a distance.

But then, he saw you again. Attending the same university as him. And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t hurt to try.

So now he’s making sure you see him.

Read [Back For More] here.

[utilitycaster]

I think the fallacy that Downfall/Divergence lays bare is that again, Brennan is not simply a Capitalism And Power Bad guy (and indeed, it's fundamentally impossible to play D&D as Power Inherently Bad - it simply does not support that thesis and indeed actively works against it as a game system, regardless of how you feel about the nature of power in real life. It is also pretty much impossible to play as Violence and Murder Inherently Bad, and I think many analyses of actual play fail when people try to act like it could be played as such). The consistent message is that exploitation and failure to care for those less powerful, and a refusal to change, is the problem. And I think that Aeor and Marlath ultimately serve a similar purpose within these narratives.

The truth of the matter is that Aeor and Marlath are negatively affected by the greater powers within the context of the Calamity. While Aeor has consistently been described and portrayed as an isolationist, authoritarian, and warmongering city-state during the Age of Arcanum and early Calamity, presumably circumstances were more preferable to them during a time of terrestrial abundance, even if they were not themselves farming. Whether or not Aeor's response to the Calamity was justified is a matter of debate; but it is undeniable that they were genuinely scared of the gods. Similarly, Marlath was an opportunistic bureaucrat even before he sold others out (and was not rewarded), but he was still living under the tyranny of the Strife Emperor himself, serving as a cog in the machine because it was preferable to the alternative. Fear was the motivation for him as well, as it is for many who become part of an authoritarian regime.

The mageocracy of Aeor and Marlath's actions caused others concern; but both had opportunity to change for the better. Both failed. They may have again been acting from fear and trauma; but in doing so showed them as entities who would sell out the weakest in their community for their own benefit. Aeor focused not on medicine nor helping their fellow Exandrians, but on weaponry and persecution. Marlath's skills in inventory could have been a boon to a resource-limited community, but he chose exploitation. Selena could have kept her knowledge to herself and at least, in her last moments, tried to save her city if not her creation. She did not.

Within the context of the narrative, the destruction of Aeor and the cutting out of Marlath's tongue are not, in my opinion, joyful triumphs. I may cheer the latter - it is in many ways a victory, unlike Aeor which can only be framed as tragic, and also, crucially, it's pretend - but this is someone who was given multiple chances! Hell, maybe Fiedra didn't make the right choice - not that Marlath didn't need to be stopped (as much was said on Cooldown) but maybe there was, in this case, a nonviolent option. However, it's hard to condemn Fiedra either; she nearly died in the woods and was saved by this camp, and to see someone she stuck her neck out for and suffer with for over a week not just plan this exploitation, but assume she'd be in it on it, is a hard pill to swallow.

And so too in that way do Aeor and Marlath serve as turning points for the people who doomed them. The Prime Deities immediately decide to remove themselves from Exandria as soon as they can seal away the Betrayers again, taking no joy in what they've done. Fiedra tells Nez that she and her gang will be protectors, at risk to themselves, after a lifetime of being survivors at times at the expense of others. They change where others couldn't.

I think a lot of people like to assign D&D villains concepts and epithets, like Capitalism or Imperialism or Landlord or Religion, because it feels very good to destroy these things, and very bad to realize that to destroy them is to cut out the tongue of someone who may have escaped the same horrors as you and crossed the same wilderness. Most people do wish this change will come without "danger, fear, or risk on their part" and are dismayed to find there is not a bloodless option. The BBEG isn't just an avatar of capitalism: they are a person who keeps choosing it and won't listen to signs and speeches to change their ways. Similarly, the hero is not just the person who stops them; they are the person who realizes that they themselves are not without their own ways to change.

[angstywaifu]

Treating You Right - Aaric Graycastle

Summary: You and Aaric grew up together, but you never got along. But when you both end up as cadet's in the riders quadrant, he changes. His behaviour for all those years not entirely being how he wanted to treat you. A/N: I had so many requests for another Aaric fic so I kind of just compiled them all into one. So if you sent a request for Aaric, this is for you! Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. Fingering. Unprotected Sex. Use of pet names (sweetheart). Rivals/enemies to lovers. Masterlist | Links

“You’re staring again.” Sloane teases, pulling me from my thoughts or lack there of.

Across the room, Aaric is in the middle of a challenge with another cadet from Third Wing. And as per usual he’s making it look easy. Barely breaking a sweat as he does it. Like he always has. I’m one of the few that knows who he actually is. Cam Tauri. The son of the King. A son I grew up around and never got along with well. He always acted so up himself. Living up to his title. But since being here, he’d changed. Or maybe he was putting on a front all those years.

“I am not.” I snap back as she laughs at me.

”You were. Like you always do. Starting to think you don’t hate him as much as you let on.” She teases again with a knowing smile.

I roll my eyes at her and shake my head. ”Trust me, I hate him.”

”Then why are you staring at him?” She states with a cocked brow. Gods she was too good at reading me. I’d only known her a few weeks and I felt like she knew me better than anyone.

”Figuring out the best way to take him out.” I point out.

She rolls her eyes at me. “I’d believe you if it weren’t for the fact were on the same squad.”

”Maybe I’m waiting till we graduate to take my shot.” I fire back.

She wasn’t wrong though. I had been staring. And not for the reasons I was telling her. If it wasn’t for the fact we disliked each other, I’d be all over Aaric. And I hated that I wanted that. Hated how I’d started noticing him more since we had been here. And being in the same squad, there was no escaping him for the next three years if we both survived that long.

I’m grateful the library is rarely used by other cadets in this Quadrant. It was the one place I could find alone time with all us first years crammed into the same dorm. The one place I could let my guard down and relax. Or so I thought. The sound of the door opening pulls me from the book I’d been reading for Kaori’s class on the different dragons. Footsteps sound around the empty library as whoever it is makes their way further and further into the space. I prayed they were heading towards another spot in the library. But it seems luck was not on my side as the familiar face or Aaric rounds the corner of one of the shelves.

”Oh great, it’s you.” I say with an eye roll, turning my attention back to my book. “To what do I owe this pleasure.”

”Ouch. And here I was coming to you in peace.” He states as he walks over to me and sits down in the chair across the table from me.

”I didn’t say you could sit your highness.” I throw at him, watching as he stiffens at my words before relaxing again. We both know we’re alone, no one nearby to hear me.

”Well someone’s cranky.” He notes, leaning back in the chair as he clasps his hands and rests them in his lap.

I slam my book shut and look up at him. “And someone needs to shut up. I’m trying to study. So unless you need something, you can go.”

”I’m here to apologise.” He tells me as his green eyes pierce into me.

I cock my eyebrow at him. “You? Apologise? Didn’t think you were capable of that.”

He sighs heavily as he turns his head. “Well I am. I had to keep appearances up for my father. Treat certain people a certain way. But I don’t have to anymore. And I wanted to say I’m sorry for how I treated you before we got here. That I wish I could have treated you how I wanted to. Be your friend.”

I scoff and shake my head at him as he turns to look at me again. “Please, don’t pretend you give a shit about me.”

”I’m not pretending. Not anymore.” He tells me as he leans forward, resting his arms on the table.

I just stare at him, unsure how to take what he’s telling me. Part of my wants to grab my things and storm off, not believe a single word he says. But part of me wants to listen to him. Believe what he’s saying. Because part of me knows it’s true. He was never like his older brothers Alic and Halden. They were cruel and harsh, always bullying me. Something Aaric never did. He would say things to me, but nothing like his brothers. In his own way he was being kinder, but doing enough to not arouse suspicion. My family was nothing to his. My father might have been part of his father’s court, but we were nothing to him. And we’re treated as such.

I grab my book, shoving it into my pack before standing up. “Sorry Cam, but I’m going to need more than some apology to prove what you’re saying to me.” I go to walk past him, heading towards the door to take me back into the Quadrant, but he moves quickly, stepping into my path.

”What do you need then?” He asks me sternly as he looks down at me.

”Prove to me you actually didn’t want to treat me that way. Treat me like you actually want to be my friend or ask for whatever it is you want from me.” I tell him.

He furrows his brow. “Why would I want something from you?”

”Because I’m not sure why you have the sudden interest in being my friend after all these years if you don’t have some ulterior motive. Your family hasn’t given me a lot of reasons to want to trust you.” I point out, Aaric nodding his head slowly. “So prove this is not some ploy on your fathers behalf.”

Over the next few weeks Aaric does start to prove it. Not once does he treat me like he use to. Hell, we even manage to have pleasant conversations which come easier to me than I expect, which earns me a few curious looks from Sloane as she takes in mine and Aaric’s new found friendship, if that's what you could even call it. But it doesn’t last long when we’re thrown into chaos. Not even two weeks after we bond our dragons we’re thrown into being part of the rebellion. All of our squad ending up in Aretia with other fliers willing to defend Navarre from the real threat of Venin and Wyvern. And now we all had to rethink everything we’d ever been taught, meaning all of us we’re drained at the end of the day with adjusting to our new routine and relearning everything. Meaning our squad had barely had time to have some down time.

A knock at my door pulls me from my thoughts. Strange. We’d all gone to bed an hour ago, who the hell is knocking at my door at this hour? I chuck the pack I’d taken on our bonding exercise with the Fliers under my bed and walk over to the door. I pull it open, revealing Aaric whose hand is raised again to knock on my door. His bright green eyes locking onto mine immediately. I open my mouth to ask him what's wrong when he rushes forward, his hands grasping my face as he crushes his lips against mine.

I instantly melt into the kiss, hands grasping the front of his shirt as I pull him into my room as he kicks the door closed behind him. His kiss consumes me, my whole body wanting more of him, giving into the thoughts I’d had over the last few months. His hands leave my face, skimming down my body as they glide over the material of the silk night dress I’d changed into for sleep. His fingers play with the edge where it ends at the top of my thighs before grasping my thighs as he picks me up with ease before turning around. He sits on the edge of the bed, settling me in his lap as my legs settle either side of his.

I break the kiss, giggling as Aaric tries to chase my lips and growls in annoyance. He goes to object but stops when he sees me grasp the edge of the nightdress, his green eyes following my movements as I pull the material up my body, leaving me in just the matching panties as I sit in his lap. I turn my eyes back to him as I discard the material to the floor, my cheeks flushing as he just stares at me in awe. On reflex I go to cover myself up, but his hands reach out and grasp my wrists.

”Don’t.” He tells me, his voice rough and commanding. “Don’t ever cover yourself up.”

I just look at him and nod as I lower my arms, resting my hands on his shoulders as his hands caress my skin, leaving goose bumps where he’s been. I lower my hand to the edge of his shirt, Aaric leaning back to give me room to remove the material from him. I’d seen Aaric shirtless before thanks to challenges and various training sessions in the gym. But I can’t help but stare at the toned and defined muscles of his torso as I trace over them with my fingers, causing him to shiver at my touch.

My eyes meet his again, catching the slight smirk on his lips before he kisses me again. It starts off softer, slower. Almost as if he wants to savour the moment. But it doesn’t take long for it to build in intensity. A moan escaping my lips as his hands grips my hips and pull me down on him is his undoing. His fingers digging into my hip as he tilts his head and deepens this kiss as my hand rests against his neck, the other tangling in his hair. My hips rocking back and forth against his, causing his fingers to grip on to my hips tighter, to the point I’m sure they’re going to be bruised tomorrow. I yelp as he flips us over, my back hitting the bed as he looms over me before gripping the matching panties to my night dress and pulling them down my legs.

”Careful Prince, wouldn’t want someone to think you’re impatient.” I tease as he tosses them to the floor.

His eyes raise to mine as he smirks at me while pulling down the linen pants he wears before getting onto the bed, causing me to scramble back to make room for him as I lean back on my arms. He kneels between my legs, shoving them open as he settles between them.

”Trust me sweetheart, I’ve been patient.” He tells me as he looks down at me.

I open my mouth to reply, but a moan comes out instead as he glides his fingers between my legs before toying with my clit. Fucking hell.

”Seems I’m not the only one whose impatient tonight.” He teases as he continues to smirk at me.

My hands fits the sheets as he lowers his fingers and pushes them inside of me. “Fuck me.” I nearly moan out, throwing my head back as he thrusts them in and out.

”Oh, I plan to sweetheart.” He assures me, curling his fingers inside of me.

The room is filled with my moans and heavy breathing as he continues to thrust his fingers in and out, spreading them wider and wider as he goes. I whimper as he pulls them out, my body sagging at the loss of them. I yelp again as he flips me onto my stomach, grabbing my hips and pulling me into a kneeling position as he settles between them, his cock rubbing against me. I cry out when he thrust in, not wasting any time as he slides all the way in, the position I’m in causing him to hit the perfect spot immediately. I’d already been close from just his fingers. There was no way I was lasting long now he was inside me. I look over my shoulder at him as I push myself up on my hands, watching as he looks down at where he slides in and out of me. His green eyes flicker up and meet mine as he bites his bottom lip. Holy shit, that was more attractive than it should be.

”Doing such a good job sweetheart.” He tells me, praising me as he continues to slam into me. “Feel so good.”

”Aaric… please.” I moan out, lowering my head as my body starts to shake, rocking my hips back and forth to meet his thrusts.

”Please what sweetheart? Use your words.” He tells me, his hands gripping my hips as I start to go limp.

”I’m c-close.” I stutter out as my arms give out, my head and upper body resting against the bed.

My whole body feels like it’s on fire, feels like it’s about to combust as I teeter on the edge. Aaric reaches around, his fingers finding my clit and applying pressure. I cry out as my body starts to shake as I tumble over the edge, Aaric drawing out my pleasure as he continues to thrust in and out while using his hand. A few moments later Aaric’s hips still as he falls forward, bracing himself above me as his hands land either side of my head. Both of us gasping for air as we come down from our high.

”You have your own room, right?” Aaric asks after a few moments.

”Y-yes.” I mutter out, doing my best to nod incase he doesn’t hear me.

”Good.”

I feel Aaric move, the bed dipping to my left before his arms wrap around me, pulling me into his side. My body instantly relaxing at his touch. I barely register him placing the blanket over us before falling asleep with my head against his chest.

[oopsiedaisydeer]

ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅʟʏ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴇᴛɪᴛɪᴏɴ

…𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘵𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 ��𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭

The lunch break had turned into something of a local tradition. Over the past couple of years, the businesses in the area would organise a lunchtime basketball competition. It was a mix of friendly rivalry and office bonding, and she had grown accustomed to watching Luke play from the sidelines, enjoying the rare moments where she could escape her desk and see her fiancé.

This time, Luke had made her somewhat of a promise. “If we win this week, I’ll take the missus out this Saturday, yeah?” he had teased, tossing a basketball up and down in his hand. His tone was light, but it was clear that he was hoping for some extra attention after weeks of busy schedules.

She smiled, watching him warm up with the others. “It’s a deal,” she said, trying to seem enthusiastic, even if the promises Luke made often seemed to disappear into thin air.

Matt was playing on the other team. She had always admired how he never seemed to take anything too seriously, even in the middle of a game. His movements were effortless, and he had a way of observing everything, staying just a little apart from the chaos of the game. He’d always been this way, a little bit quiet, but you could feel the energy around him, like something was brewing beneath the surface.

The game began, and Luke and Matt’s competitive natures clashed almost immediately. Luke, always the one to joke and keep things light, found himself starting to get more aggressive, pushing harder against Matt, maybe even a little too hard. Matt’s responses, though, were sharp, calculated, a quick sidestep here, a little nudge there. It was clear the tension between them was building. She kept her eyes on them, unsure of how to read the situation.

By the end of the game, Luke’s team had narrowly won, thanks to a questionable foul against Matt that had the entire office murmuring. Matt looked annoyed, his jaw tight as he held an ice pack to his nose. Her stomach flipped at the sight. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of concern. Matt’s face was usually so calm, so controlled, but right now, the tension in his posture told her something had gotten under his skin.

Luke, on the other hand, was grinning ear-to-ear, throwing a triumphant arm around one of his teammates, oblivious to Matt’s discomfort.

“We did it!” Luke cheered, his voice full of false cheer as a smile crept onto her face at the thought of their promised date. “Looks like we’re going out this weekend, babe!”

Her excitement flickered. Maybe this time it would be different. Maybe Luke would follow through on his promise, actually take her out somewhere nice for once. She smiled back at Luke, but the image of Matt wincing as he adjusted the ice pack lingered in her mind. There was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes as she glanced between the two, trying to ignore the unease that settled in her chest.

It was Monday morning before she could even bring herself to think about the weekend. The date that Luke had promised didn’t exactly go as planned. He’d been tired, distracted, and despite his earlier excitement, the night had ended with a few too many takeout containers and lackluster intimacy.

She’d tried not to let it bother her, but the truth was hard to ignore. Her expectations had been high, higher than they probably should have been, but they’d still been let down. When she walked into the office Monday morning, she found Matt glancing at her harder than usual. His eyes were a little too perceptive, as always, and today, they seemed to linger.

“How’d the date go?” Matt asked, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that familiar teasing smile. His tone was light, but there was something in the way he asked that made her pause.

She hesitated for a moment, forcing herself to keep it casual. “Oh, it was fine,” she said, shrugging it off. “Nothing special, you know?”

Matt’s brow furrowed slightly, and he crossed his arms over his chest, as if weighing her words. “Nothing special, huh?” he repeated. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, concern, maybe, but it was gone as quickly as it came. “You seemed pretty excited about it on Friday.”

She smiled, trying to brush it off. “Yeah, well... sometimes things don’t go as planned.”

The silence between them hung in the air for a moment. Matt seemed to think for a beat, then smirked, changing the subject. “Well, if it makes you feel better, I’m pretty sure Luke and I are about to have a rematch in a couple of weeks,” he said, his voice light, but she noticed the faintest edge to his words.

“Yeah, we’ll see how that goes,” she said, forcing a smile.

“All friendly competition,” he quipped.

As she turned to walk to her desk, she felt Matt’s eyes on her again. His question had been casual, but something about it, something about the way he phrased it, stayed in her mind. It made her realise how little she had shared with Luke recently. How much she’d been hoping for something more, even though she wasn’t sure if she even wanted it.

creds to rose for the dividers !!!!! @bernardsbendystraws

a/n: i hope these aren't too boring,, but as yk this is going to be a slow burn sooo

taglist: @sturnshood @blushsturns @mattsstarlet @throatgoat4u @sturnsrecord @applecidersturniolo @certainfestivalnerdshepherd @sosasturns @ifwdominicfike @cheriiboo @sturns-mermaid @solarsturniolo @sturnberries @mattscherries @mattsturnsgirlie @snoopychris @hjvi @loverboysturn @backwardshatnick @priscillaog @ribbonlovergirl @irmantez @corspebridedelrey @and-a-monochrome-vision @pretty-random-writer @ilovebirds17 @snoopymatt @princesspeach0-0 @blahbel668 @marysongohmy @sturnl0ve @heavenlybunnies11 @desreads @chris-hallelujah @courta13 @sweetshuga @pair-of-pantaloons comment to be added to the taglist !

cya soon <3

[evermoreness]

moonlight and mending pt.9 | remus lupin

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: you become remus' girlfriend, officially.

obs: this is part nine of a series. here's part one.

masterlist

The past few days had been… odd.

Remus was acting strange.

Not in a bad way—if anything, he was more affectionate than usual, constantly tucking you close to his side, pressing random kisses to your temple, and looking at you like you were the best thing that had ever happened to him. Which, in all honesty, you kind of loved.

But he was also sneaking around.

And Remus Lupin was a terrible liar.

“Alright,” you said, crossing your arms as you cornered him in the library. “What’s going on?”

Remus blinked up at you, feigning innocence. “What do you mean?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Oh, don’t you dare try to act clueless, Lupin. You’re up to something.”

His ears turned pink. “I—what? Me? Up to something? Pfft, that’s ridiculous.”

You raised a brow. “You’ve been whispering with the boys every time I walk into a room, Lily keeps giving me knowing looks, and you nearly jumped out of your skin when I caught you writing in your notebook yesterday. You never hide things from me.”

Remus swallowed, looking anywhere but at you. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, love.”

You gasped dramatically. “Oh Merlin, you’re actually lying to me.”

“I’m not lying—”

You poked his chest. “You are! You’re the worst liar, Remus Lupin!”

“I am not—”

“You so are! You do this thing where you scratch the back of your neck—”

He immediately stopped scratching the back of his neck.

You smirked. “Aha! Caught red-handed!”

Remus groaned, covering his face with his hands. “I hate that you know me so well.”

You giggled, reaching up to pry his hands away. “Come on, just tell me what you’re planning.”

“No.”

“Remus.”

“Nope.”

You sighed dramatically. “You’re cruel. This is cruelty.”

He laughed, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “Patience, dove.”

You huffed. “You do realize I will figure it out, right?”

He smirked. “Not if I ask James to hide all your detective novels.”

You gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

“You monster.”

Remus chuckled, looping his arms around your waist. “Just… trust me, alright? It’s nothing bad. Just something I want to get right.”

You sighed, resting your forehead against his. “Fine. But if you take too long, I will take matters into my own hands.”

He grinned, kissing your softly. “I’d expect nothing less from you.”

And with that, he escaped before you could question him further.

He still had work to do.

The following days only made you more suspicious.

Remus was still sneaking off with the boys, still whispering in hushed tones whenever you entered a room, and now, even Lily was in on it.

You tried everything to get it out of him—puppy-dog eyes, playful threats, bribery with his favorite chocolates—but nothing worked.

Remus Lupin was a terrible liar, but when he was determined to keep a secret? He was infuriatingly stubborn.

Which was why you were currently slumped over the Gryffindor common room couch, dramatically groaning into a pillow.

“Why are men?” you whined.

Lily snorted from the chair across from you. “I assume you mean Remus.”

You lifted her head, pouting. “He’s hiding something, Lils.”

Lily gave you an infuriatingly knowing look. “Maybe he just wants to surprise you.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You know, don’t you?”

Lily only sipped her tea, looking far too smug.

“Oh, Merlin,” you groaned, flopping back onto the couch. “First the boys, now you? I’m losing.”

Lily chuckled. “Patience, dear”

You huffed. “That’s what he keeps saying.”

Lily smirked. “Then maybe you should listen.”

You were about to throw a pillow at her when the portrait hole swung open and in walked Remus, looking slightly winded, his uniform a little rumpled.

And Sirius, grinning like a maniac.

Oh, this was suspicious.

Sirius clapped Remus on the back. “Alright, Moony, you’re all set. Now go get your girl—”

Remus shot him a look. “Shut up, Pads.”

You sat up immediately. “Go get your what?”

Sirius smirked. “Your girl, obviously.”

Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. “I hate you.”

Sirius only wiggled his brows. “You love me.”

Remus sighed and turned to you, looking nervous but also determined.

You stared at him, heart racing. “Remus?”

He took a breath, then held out his hand. “Come with me?”

Your stomach flipped. “...Alright.”

You let him take your hand, casting one last suspicious glance at Sirius and Lily—both of whom were grinning like idiots—before following Remus out of the common room.

Whatever he was planning… you had a very strong feeling that you were about to find out.

Remus led you through the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts, his hand warm around yours. He was nervous, you could feel it in the way his grip tightened slightly, in the way his thumb traced absentminded circles against her skin.

You wanted to ask but something in his expression stopped you.

Instead, you let him guide you up a staircase, down a hallway, and finally to a familiar wooden door.

The Astronomy Tower.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Remus glanced at you, then hesitated. “Close your eyes?”

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “Are you going to push me off the tower?”

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Not this time.”

You giggled but obeyed, closing your eyes as he pushed the door open and led you inside.

“Alright,” he murmured, stopping behind you. “You can look now.”

You opened your eyes—and gasped.

The Astronomy Tower, already one of the most beautiful places in Hogwarts, had been transformed into something straight out of a dream.

A thick, cozy blanket was spread out in the center, surrounded by enchanted candles floating in the air, casting a soft, golden glow. A few pillows were scattered on the blanket, along with a basket—probably filled with food, knowing Remus—and a thermos of what you hoped was hot chocolate.

But what really caught your attention was the sky above—clear, open, vast, the stars twinkling like tiny diamonds.

It was breathtaking.

You hand flew to your mouth. “Remus…”

He scratched the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “D’you like it?”

You turned to him, eyes wide. “Like it? Remus, this is—this is beautiful.”

His shoulders sagged in relief. “Good. That’s… that’s good.”

You turned back to take it all in, still in awe. “Did you do all this?”

Remus chuckled. “I had some help.”

You smirked. “Sirius?”

“Mostly James, actually,” he admitted. “Sirius just told me not to mess it up.”

You laughed, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the blanket. “Well, you haven’t.”

You sat down together, and as soon as you were settled, Remus reached into the basket and pulled out a familiar-looking bar of chocolate.

Your eyes widened. “Remus, is that—”

He smirked. “My favorite chocolate? Yes. And before you ask, yes, I’m sharing.”

You gasped dramatically. “You must love me.”

At that, his face turned serious.

You blinked. “Remus?”

He took a breath, then took both of your hands in his. His thumbs traced over your knuckles, his expression soft but determined.

“There’s something I need to say,” he murmured.

You tilted your head. “What is it?”

He hesitated for a fraction of a second before looking her straight in the eyes.

“I love you.”

“I know I’ve said it before,” he continued, voice steady, “but I need you to know how much I mean it. How much you mean to me.”

Your fingers curled around his. “Remus…”

He shook his head, a small, almost nervous smile playing on his lips. “Let me say this, dove.”

You nodded, heart pounding.

Remus took another breath, then spoke.

“You are—everything to me. Before you, I thought I’d always be alone, that I deserved to be alone. I never let myself believe that someone like you—someone so good, so kind, so brilliant—could ever want someone like me.” He squeezed your hands. “But you do. And I still can’t quite believe it.”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out—your throat was too tight, your eyes burning.

Remus swallowed, then continued, “You take care of me when I need it most. You see me—the real me. And you don’t turn away. You never turn away.” His voice wavered, but he pressed on. “I love you. I love you more than I ever thought I could love someone.”

He exhaled, gaze locked onto yours. “And I—” He let out a nervous chuckle. “I had this whole speech planned, but my brain’s gone completely blank because you’re looking at me like that.”

You laughed, finally finding your voice. “Like what?”

“Like you’re about to kiss me,” he teased.

You grinned. “Maybe I am.”

His lips twitched, but then his expression turned serious again. “Before you do, I need to ask you something.”

You nodded. “Anything.”

Remus took a shaky breath. “Will you—will you be my girlfriend?”

Your heart stopped.

“Because I—I want you to be,” he continued, voice thick with emotion. “More than anything. But only if you want to. I don’t ever want you to feel like you have to—”

You didn’t let him finish.

Because you did kiss him.

Hard.

Remus let out a startled sound before melting completely against you, hands coming up to cup your face as he kissed you back like you were the air he needed to breathe.

When you finally pulled back, you pressed your forehead against his, smiling. “You idiot,” you murmured.

Remus blinked. “Uh—”

“Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.”

His eyes widened. “You—”

You laughed, nudging his nose with yours. “Did you really think I’d say no?”

“I—” He huffed out a breathless laugh. “I don’t know—I was terrified—”

You kissed him again, softer this time, pouring every ounce of love you had for him into it.

When you pulled away, Remus was looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You smiled. “I love you, too.”

Remus grinned, then let out a relieved laugh, pulling you into his arms. “Merlin, I’m so lucky.”

You hugged him back, eyes closing as you listened to his heartbeat.

And for the first time in a long time, Remus Lupin felt like the happiest boy in the entire world.

You settled onto his lap, arms wrapping around his neck as you nuzzled into him, breathing him in. You just wanted to be close—closer than ever. Like you could melt into him, merge your hearts together because Godric, you loved him.

And Remus—Merlin, he was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that you were his now. Officially. Not just in the way you gravitated toward each other, or in the way you cared for each other, but in the real, undeniable, world-acknowledging way.

“You’re mine,” he murmured against your temple, like he was testing the words out loud, making sure they were real.

You grinned, pulling back to look at him. “Yours,” you confirmed, tapping his nose. “And you—you’re mine.”

His lips twitched. “That’s how this whole ‘relationship’ thing works, yeah.”

You giggled and kissed him again, just because you could. Just because it felt right.

When you pulled back, you ran your fingers through his soft, messy hair, admiring him. Your boyfriend.

Remus still looked a little dazed, eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes. “I still can’t believe you actually said yes.”

You gasped dramatically, placing a hand over your heart. “Remus John Lupin, are you insulting me?”

He blinked. “What? No, I—”

“Because I’ll have you know I love you, and I would’ve said yes the second you asked me—maybe even before.”

His lips curled into a lopsided smile. “Before?”

You grinned. “Oh, yeah. I would've just known.”

He let out a chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it.”

“I do.”

You beamed. “Good.”

He took your hand in his and started tracing random shapes on your palm, looking thoughtful. “I just don’t get it,” he admitted after a moment.

You raised an eyebrow. “Get what?”

“How you—this brilliant, beautiful, perfect girl—ended up with me.”

You groaned and lightly smacked his chest. “Remus, shut up.”

He laughed. “I mean, really, you could’ve had anyone—”

You sighed dramatically. “Okay, fine, let’s settle this right now.”

Remus blinked as you leaned in, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear. “You are brilliant,” you whispered. “You are beautiful. You are perfect. And you are mine. And if you ever question that again, I will throw hands.”

His breath hitched, and you could feel the way his hands tightened on your waist. “Throw hands with who?”

You pulled back, eyes serious. “With you, if necessary.”

He grinned, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

“You love it,” you said again, giggling.

Remus let out a dramatic sigh. “I do,” he admitted, feigning defeat. “I really, really do.”

You hummed in approval and reached for the basket, grabbing a piece of his chocolate. “Good. Now, since I’m your girlfriend, I think I deserve the biggest piece of this.”

His eyes widened in mock offense. “That’s my favorite—”

You smirked, taking a slow, obnoxious bite. “Mmm,” you said, exaggerating the sound. “Tastes even better when it’s yours.”

He huffed, crossing his arms. “Merlin, I should’ve known this would happen the second I asked you out.”

You giggled, leaning in to kiss the pout off his lips. “Oh, Remus,” you whispered against him. “You love spoiling me.”

He groaned. “I do. And it’s awful.”

You gasped. “Did you just call loving me awful?”

His face dropped. “That’s not—I meant you’re awful—no, wait—”

You threw your head back, laughing. “Remus, I’m teasing you.”

He sighed in relief. “Oh, thank Merlin.”

You kissed his nose. “You’re adorable.”

He huffed. “I was trying to be charming.”

You grinned. “You were.”

Remus blinked. “I—wait, really?”

You nodded. “In your own awkward, bookish, Remus way. And I love it.”

His lips twitched. “I tried to flirt with you, you know.”

You tilted her head, intrigued. “Did you?”

“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “And then you stole my chocolate, and now I’m questioning my life choices.”

You giggled, popping another piece into your mouth. “Welcome to dating me, Lupin.”

He just shook his head, wrapping his arms more securely around you. “Merlin help me.”

You kissed him again, softly, sweetly. “You’re stuck with me now.”

He smiled against your lips. “That’s the best part.”

Officially his.

The days passed, and being Remus Lupin’s girlfriend was, quite literally, the best thing in the world.

You had always loved him, always been close to him, but now—now you got to call him yours. Now you got to kiss him whenever you wanted, hold his hand under the table, steal his sweaters without pretending it was an accident.

And the best part?

Remus—your shy, awkward, bookish boyfriend—was so different when you were alone.

In public, he was still himself—still sweet, still affectionate in his own way. He’d tuck loose strands of your hair behind your ear, guide you through crowded hallways with a hand on your lower back, steal soft, fleeting kisses when he thought no one was looking. But when they were alone?

It was ridiculous.

You had no idea where he had been hiding this side of him, but you loved it.

Like right now.

You were curled up in his bed, a book in your hands, completely relaxed as Remus lay beside you, his head resting in your lap. He had claimed he was reading, too, but really, he had spent the last fifteen minutes tracing slow, lazy circles on your thigh, humming softly to himself.

You smiled down at him, brushing his messy hair away from his face. “You’re staring,”.

He hummed, looking unbothered. “And?”

You grinned. “And you’re distracting me.”

His lips twitched. “Am I?”

“Yes,” you said, closing your book with a soft thud. “What are you thinking about, love?”

He tilted his head, considering. “How beautiful you are,” he said casually, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Your heart skipped. “Remus.”

He smirked. Smirked. “What? Am I not allowed to admire my girlfriend?”

You rolled your eyes. “Not when I’m trying to read.”

He hummed, running a gentle hand up and down you arm. “Mm. You can read later.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what do you propose I do now?”

Remus sat up, shifting so that they were face to face. His hands found your waist as he pulled you closer, to his lap, pressing a soft kiss to your nose.

“Be kissed,” he murmured.

Your stomach flipped.

“Oh,” you breathed. “I see.”

And then he did kiss you.

Soft, slow, deep. Like he had all the time in the world just to kiss you senseless.

You sighed against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I think I like this plan.”

He chuckled, kissing you again, this time at the corner of your mouth. “I thought you might.”

You grinned. “You’re so soft when we’re alone.”

Remus groaned. “Don’t tell anyone.”

You giggled. “I won’t. But it’s adorable.”

He sighed dramatically. “Merlin help me.”

You kissed his cheek. “I love being your girlfriend.”

His arms tightened around you. “I love that you’re my girlfriend.”

You beamed. “I think I’m the lucky one.”

Remus snorted. “No, I am.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Remus, look at me. And now look at you. You’re sweet and smart and stupidly handsome, and you love me. I win.”

His lips twitched. “I do love you.”

You grinned. “And I love you.”

Remus sighed, pressing his forehead to yours. “Fine. We can both be lucky.”

You giggled, kissing him again. “Deal.”

Not the same.

The Gryffindor common room was buzzing with life, but in one particular corner, a very important discussion was taking place.

Remus sat on the couch, you tucked securely under his arm, your legs draped across his lap. James, Sirius, and Peter were sprawled across the furniture, with Lily sitting comfortably beside James, her legs crossed, eyes sharp with amusement.

And at this very moment, all of them were grilling Remus.

“I’m just saying,” James said, tossing a chocolate frog in the air and catching it in his mouth, “you’ve changed, mate.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Have I?”

“Oh, definitely,” Sirius jumped in, pointing a dramatic finger at him. “You’re all smiley now. And confident. And you let people touch you.”

Peter nodded furiously. “You used to flinch when Sirius so much as breathed near you.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “That’s because Sirius used to randomly tackle me in the corridors.”

Sirius smirked. “I still do that, but now you fight back.”

Lily leaned in, grinning. “They’re right, you know.”

Remus groaned. “Not you too, Evans.”

“Oh, absolutely me too,” she said, smiling knowingly. “You’re different. Happier.”

James nodded sagely. “A man in love.”

You laughed, snuggling closer to Remus. “I like him like this.”

Remus looked down at you, his heart flipping at the way you smiled at him like he had hung the stars. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I am happy,” he admitted. “Really happy.”

Sirius gasped. “Merlin’s beard! Moony just admitted to being happy? Who are you?”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Pads.”

Peter cackled. “You are different though! You talk more, joke more—you even initiate affection.”

James wiggled his eyebrows. “So tell us, Moony, what’s your secret?”

Remus sighed, looking down at you, who was staring up at him with the softest, sweetest expression. He couldn’t help but smile.

“She’s my secret,” he said simply.

The room erupted.

“Oh, gag—” Sirius groaned.

“That was so disgustingly romantic,” Peter whined.

James clutched his chest. “Moony, I think I might cry.”

Lily just laughed, nudging you. “You’ve ruined him.”

You grinned. “You say ‘ruined,’ I say ‘improved.’”

Remus chuckled, squeezing your hand. “I have to agree.”

Sirius made a choking sound. “He agrees?! Who are you?”

James threw an arm over Remus’ shoulder dramatically. “He’s in love, Pads. Let the boy live.”

Remus just smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple.

For once, he didn’t mind the teasing. Because, for the first time in his life, he was truly, ridiculously, wonderfully happy.

Later that night, when everyone had gone to their own forms, you both stayed behind, just the two of you.

It was late, the Gryffindor common room nearly empty except for a few students scattered around, quietly studying or chatting in hushed voices. The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow over the room, and outside, the sky was painted with stars. It was the perfect setting for a quiet, peaceful night.

You sat curled up on the couch, a book resting in your lap, but your focus was barely on the pages. Not when Remus was sitting beside you, leaning into your warmth, his head resting lightly against yours. He was tired—exhausted, really—but he never wanted to leave your side.

You closed her book with a soft thud and turned slightly, taking in his relaxed expression. “You should go to bed, you know,” you murmured, gently brushing a strand of hair from his face.

Remus hummed in response but made no move to get up. Instead, he turned his head slightly, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against your shoulder. “Mmm… ‘m comfortable here,” he mumbled sleepily.

You smiled softly, your fingers gently running through his hair. “You’re practically falling asleep on me, Moony.”

“That’s because you’re warm,” he said, voice drowsy but affectionate. “And I like being close to you.” He nuzzled against your neck slightly, breathing you in. “Smell good, too.”

You let out a soft laugh, tilting your head as he pressed another lazy kiss just below your ear. “Is that the wolf in you talking?” you teased.

Remus chuckled against your skin. “Probably,” he admitted. Then, his lips curled into a small smirk. “Or maybe it’s just me being completely in love with my girlfriend.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you bit your lip, trying (and failing) to suppress the giddy smile that spread across your face. Even after all this time, he still had this effect on you.

“Well,” you said softly, “I think I might just be completely in love with my boyfriend too.”

Remus lifted his head slightly to look at you, his warm brown eyes searching yours. His expression softened, full of something deep and unspoken. Slowly, he reached up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly against your skin.

“You are?” he asked, his voice quiet but filled with awe.

You leaned into his touch, nodding. “I am.”

A slow, loving smile spread across his face. He looked at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world, like he still couldn’t believe you were his. “Merlin, I love you,” he whispered, his forehead gently pressing against yours.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, your eyes fluttering shut as you savored the moment.

Then, before you could say anything else, he tilted your chin up slightly and kissed you. It wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was soft, sweet, and filled with so much love. His lips moved against yours slowly, taking his time, savoring you, as if he wanted to memorize the way you felt against him.

You sighed happily into the kiss, your fingers threading through his soft curls as you pulled him closer. His hands found their way to your waist, holding you gently, grounding himself in your presence.

When they finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against yours again, your breaths mingling.

“You make me so happy,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, pressing a tiny kiss to the corner of his lips. “You make me happy too.”

Remus let out a soft chuckle, rubbing his thumb over your waist in slow, soothing circles. “I still can’t believe you’re mine,” he admitted.

You cupped his face, looking at him with nothing but adoration. “I’ve always been yours, Remus.”

His breath hitched slightly at your words, his arms instinctively tightening around yours. He didn’t say anything, just held you close, his heart full.

And in that moment, with the fire crackling beside you and the world fading away, nothing else mattered except the fact that you had each other.

—— 🌙 ——

A note from the author:

Hello my lovely people!

This took a while to post because i was struggling with exam week at uni! Sorry!

Hope you liked it! This is officially the last part! But there will be one more just for bonus, just for you to see how their future turned out!

Thank you for all the love in this series! 🤍

See you soon!

Taglist: @iloveremmy @jjamjamie @breakawayfromeveryday @oursweetmoony @whimsical-mistakes @froggiedragon @sophie-0012 @deathmybride @nerdbirdsworld @wolfstarsprongs @mischievousmoony @httpvomitello @msfandomsblog @starofthedawn @malenk @diiyaa @theonyxstate @waitforiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit @theredvelvetbitch @ohheyitsrowan @a1ienmush @michtellch @weirdstartshere @arcane-fan @ilovejamespottersomuch @koolayee @lovelyteenagebeard @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @worldofsaturnsblog @lovelyygirl8 @myalchemicalgnomace (If you want to be tagged, let me know!)

[3liza]

the twisted metal show is just getting progressively goofier and funnier and I can't emphasize enough how refreshing that is, even though it's missing a lot of the same stuff I was complaining about missing with fallout. a good attitude can excuse a litany of sins tbh!!! it's correctly on tone with the source material (which is dumb as hell) and not stuck up its own ass and not trying to adopt any more elevated message than "Orange County is full of psychopaths" which is something we can all get behind tbh

they are clearly aiming for a thunderdome or escape from LA tone and getting, generously, almost as close as they can without thunderdome production budget. once again the wardrobe is really lacking, which always bugs me when wardrobe is so easy to do on no budget if you just hire the right creatives. i don't want to watch serious or irony poisoned post apocalyptic shit anymore, I'm fed up. whanging that horseshoe as close as you can get to "mad max" and falling short is preferable to whatever smug tech conference bullshit was going on in fallout.

I'm not saying it's good but it is fun. I'm especially enjoying how the stupid action movie dialog is getting progressively more self aware, but not in an annoyingly ironic way. they are getting comfortable with letting their writers and actors softshoe a little bit and we're starting to get Simpsons-style crowd bits like the protagonists encountering some poor bastard strung up by one of the wasteland gangs and remarking that "maybe he deserved it" and the extra groans and raspily retorts "I didn't!", which got a genuine laugh out of me because they didn't linger on it and let it get stale.

i wish they had pushed this a lot father in terms of making it more late 90s grimdark gargoyle shit like the games, but that stuff is expensive and I think they spent all their money on actual vehicles (which I respect) and didn't have a lot left over for costumes and set dressing

what's most surprising about this entire production is how laser targeted it is at people born between 1980 and 1988, which cannot be a significant television viewership in the larger picture. there is almost zero effort to make this relatable to anyone outside 40 year old Oregon Trail millennials. the soundtrack is so fucking funny

special mention to casting a bunch of actual 40 year old women and letting them look haggard and dirty and wrinkled for once

really Sweet Tooth is the biggest disappointment. i understand he's the franchise figurehead but they fumbled it imo. i don't think will arnett is the right casting. idk if sweet tooth should even talk or be human tbh, I kind of always saw him more as a sort of ogre or avatar than just a normal human psycho killer, and having him onscreen so much from the beginning was probably network mandated but really spoiled the biggest narrative tension for franchise fans they could have saved up to cash in on a good reveal later. oh well. alternately I think leaning into it being JUST will arnett in a clown mask would have been funnier than trying to split the difference with dubbing arnett over a more physically powerful Joe Samoa playing the body

[blairxbear]

When they realise they are in love with you...

Class 1A / Other UA Students / Pro Heroes / Villains

How will these villains react to realising that they are in love with you?

Featuring: Tomura Shigaraki, Dabi/Toya Todoroki, Shuichi Iguchi/Spinner, Kai Chisake/Overhaul, Jin Bubaigawara/Twice, Atsuhiro Sako/Mr. Compress, Young All For One

Tomura Shigaraki

• Love is foreign to him—it’s something he associates with weakness, pain, and loss.

• He doesn’t understand his own emotions at first—he just knows he wants you close but is terrified of hurting you.

• The moment he truly realizes it? One night, you fall asleep near him, completely unafraid. He stares at you for hours, his hands shaking.

• “They trust me. No one’s ever trusted me like this before.”

• He tries pushing you away at first, convinced you deserve better.

• But when he sees you smiling at him like he’s more than a villain, he breaks. He’s yours now. No escape.

• His confession is raw and broken, whispered against your skin like a secret he’s too scared to say out loud.

• “I don’t want to ruin you… but I think I love you.”

Toya Todoroki (Dabi)

• Dabi doesn’t believe in love—to him, it’s just another lie, another way to get hurt.

• But when he realizes he feels safe with you, it scares the hell out of him.

• The moment he knows? He sees you patching up his burns, touching his scarred skin without flinching, and something in him shatters.

• “Why aren’t they afraid of me?”

• He tries dismissing it as lust, obsession—anything but love.

• But when he sees you laughing at one of his dumb jokes, he realizes he’d burn the whole world down to keep you safe.

• His confession is casual but intense—maybe after a mission, cigarette between his lips, acting like it’s nothing.

• “Tch. Guess I love you. Sucks for you, huh?”

Shuichi Iguchi (Spinner)

• Spinner is completely awkward about romance—he never thought anyone would look at him that way.

• He realizes it slowly, over time—when you’re the only one who really listens to him.

• The moment it hits him like a truck? You defend his ideals in front of the League, proving you actually believe in him.

• “Holy shit. They actually care.”

• Suddenly, he can’t stop thinking about you, watching your reactions, hanging on your words.

• His confession is embarrassingly nervous, probably stammering through it.

• “Uh… okay, don’t laugh, but I think I might be, um… kinda in love with you? Shit, that sounds dumb—”

Kai Chisaki (Overhaul)

• Love is a weakness, something that doesn’t belong in his world.

• He tries to rationalize it, seeing you as an asset, a necessity—but that excuse crumbles fast.

• The moment he realizes? You touch him without hesitation, and for the first time in years, he doesn’t flinch or feel disgusted.

• “They’re not… dirty. They’re not tainted. How?”

• He spirals—overanalyzing, avoiding, obsessing.

• When someone threatens you, and he feels pure, unfiltered rage, it clicks. He’s in love.

• His confession is cold and clinical but deeply possessive.

• “You belong to me now. Don’t argue.”

Jin Bubaigawara (Twice)

• Love is messy, complicated, and dangerous—and he’s already got too many voices in his head.

• He realizes it when he starts thinking about you more than himself, more than his own survival.

• The moment it hits him hard? You remember something small about him—his favorite snack, his childhood memories—and he just… freezes.

• “No one’s ever cared that much about me.”

• His emotions become even more chaotic, flipping between being clingy and pulling away out of fear.

• His confession is a total nervous wreck—probably talking to himself about it first before blurting it out to you.

• “Shit, shit, I love you! Wait, do I? YES, I DO—oh god, is this a bad idea?!”

Atsuhiro Sako (Mr. Compress)

• He’s suave and theatrical, but love? Love is tricky. Dangerous. A gamble.

• He realizes it when he starts protecting you first, putting you above the mission.

• The moment it fully sinks in? You call him out on his loneliness, and he realizes you see through his mask.

• “They know me. The real me.”

• Suddenly, his usual charm feels meaningless unless it’s you he’s entertaining.

• His confession is smooth but deeply genuine—probably whispered against your ear, teasing yet serious.

• “My dear, you’ve stolen something precious from me… my heart.”

Young All For One

• Love, to him, is power—a tool to manipulate, to control.

• Or at least… that’s what he thought before you.

• He realizes he’s in love when he stops seeing you as replaceable—when he wants to keep you, not as an asset, but as something more.

• The moment it truly hits? You defy him, looking him in the eyes without fear, and instead of being furious… he’s intrigued.

• “They’re… mine.”

• Suddenly, he finds himself protecting you, indulging you, giving you power instead of taking it away.

• His confession is low and dangerous, more of a claim than a request.

• “You belong to me, little one. And I belong to you.”

[sillygoose067]

Miss(ter) Possessive

"Yeah, I'll be nice up until I'm not. And oh-so generous, tonight I forgot."- Miss Possessive by Tate Mcrae

Synopsis: A night out takes a heated turn as Dick Grayson watches admirer after admirer flirt with you—until he steps in, effortlessly staking his claim with a quiet, undeniable possessiveness.

The dimly lit jazz lounge was alive with soft music and quiet conversations, the scent of aged whiskey and espresso lingering in the air. The kind of place that whispered sophistication, where people came to talk business, seduce strangers, or escape into the low hum of a saxophone.

You leaned over the polished wooden bar, scanning the cocktail menu with a slight frown. “Do I go for a Negroni, or is that too bitter?” you mused out loud.

“Depends on your mood,” Dick said from beside you, his voice light, but his gaze was sharp, scanning the room with the easy alertness he carried everywhere. He was in his civilian clothes—dark jeans, a fitted navy button-down with the sleeves rolled up, his hair slightly tousled from the ride over. He looked good. Unfairly good. And as much as he wanted to focus on your drink decision, his attention was already hooked elsewhere.

Because someone else had noticed you.

She was a sleek woman with dark red lipstick and a silky black dress, leaning on the other side of the bar just far enough to be casual, but close enough that Dick could see the way her eyes kept flickering toward you. At first, he thought she was just admiring you—who wouldn’t? But then she made her move.

“You should try the French 75,” the woman interjected smoothly, stepping in just a little closer, her voice carrying over the music. “Crisp, bubbly, perfect balance. It suits you.”

You blinked, looking over at her with a polite smile. “Oh, that’s a good idea! Thanks,” you said, completely missing the way her eyes traced over you with an interest that went beyond friendly.

Dick, on the other hand, saw everything.

The way she angled her body toward you, tucking her hair behind her ear just so. The way she held eye contact just a little too long. The slow, deliberate sip of her own drink, like she was giving you an invitation.

You, completely oblivious, just nodded thoughtfully at the menu. “I think I’ll try it. What about you, Gray?”

His grip on his glass tightened slightly, but he kept his expression smooth. “I’m good with my usual.”

The woman barely spared him a glance, which would have been fine—except she was very interested in you. “You’re new here, aren’t you?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

You nodded. “Yeah, first time! My boyfriend suggested this place.”

Dick felt a flicker of satisfaction at the word boyfriend, but the woman didn’t even flinch. She just smiled. “Good taste,” she remarked, then, her gaze drifting back to you, “Though, I’d say you could have found this place on your own.”

You let out a small laugh, not thinking much of it. “I mean, maybe! I do love exploring new places.”

Oh, come on.

Dick took a slow sip of his drink, watching as the woman subtly edged closer, her fingers lightly trailing over the rim of her glass. He’d seen this game before. The slow build-up. The careful compliments. The not-so-accidental brush of a hand.

And you? Totally missing it.

“You know,” she continued, her voice softer, “you have the kind of presence that turns heads. You must get that a lot.”

You laughed, the kind of genuine, amused laugh that made Dick’s stomach tighten. “I think you’re giving me too much credit.”

No. No, she was not.

Dick exhaled slowly, setting his drink down with just enough weight for the sound to thunk against the wood. The woman finally glanced at him, as if only now remembering he was still there.

He met her gaze with an easy, confident smile. “She does get that a lot, actually. But, lucky for me, she’s already taken.”

Something in his tone had changed—still polite, still charming, but unmistakably firm. A statement, not an invitation for debate.

The woman’s lips parted slightly, but she recovered quickly. “Well,” she mused, swirling her drink, “good for you.”

“Yeah,” Dick agreed, casually sliding his arm around your waist, his fingers pressing into your hip in a way that sent a clear message. “It is good for me.”

There was a beat of silence, tension thick beneath the soft hum of the music. The woman held his gaze for just a second longer before offering a slow, knowing smile. “Enjoy your night,” she said smoothly, stepping back into the crowd.

You turned to Dick, blinking. “She was nice.”

His jaw tensed slightly. He leaned down, his lips brushing close to your ear. “She was flirting with you.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “What? No, she was just—”

“She wasn’t just anything,” Dick murmured, his voice low. “She was very interested.”

Your brows furrowed. “You think so?”

Dick just shook his head, a mix of fondness and frustration in his expression. “You really don’t see it, do you?”

Before you could respond, someone else entered the equation.

This time, it was a man—tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp cheekbones and an easy smirk. He leaned against the bar beside you, flashing you an effortless grin.

“Couldn’t help but notice you from across the room,” he said, his voice smooth as he rested his elbow on the counter.

Dick took a slow breath through his nose, already bracing himself.

You, meanwhile, turned to the newcomer with a friendly smile. “Oh? Well, it’s a great place.”

“Even better now,” the man said, giving you a look that made something in Dick snap.

That was it.

Dick shifted, moving so smoothly it looked effortless, positioning himself between you and the guy, his presence suddenly impossible to ignore. He didn’t glare, didn’t tense—no, his confidence was something subtler. He exuded control, the kind that made it clear he wasn’t threatened, but he was done playing polite.

The man’s smirk faltered slightly as he registered the shift in dynamic.

“Hey,” Dick said easily, his arm still wrapped firmly around your waist, his fingers subtly squeezing your hip. “Appreciate the compliment, but she’s with me.”

The guy glanced between you two, as if weighing his odds, before letting out a short laugh. “Didn’t see a ring.”

Dick’s smile was slow, controlled. “Didn’t need one.”

The weight behind those words was final.

The man held his gaze for a beat longer before exhaling through his nose, giving a half-shrug. “Didn’t mean any disrespect.”

“Good,” Dick said, his smile never wavering. “Now you know.”

The man nodded once before slipping back into the crowd.

You turned to Dick, still a little stunned. “Was he flirting too?”

Dick let out a small laugh, resting his forehead against yours for a moment before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. “Baby, if I ever leave you alone in a bar, you might end up with three marriage proposals before I get back.”

You snorted. “That’s ridiculous.”

Dick tilted his head, smirking. “Is it?”

His grip on you tightened slightly, possessive in a way that made your stomach flutter.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice low, a promise wrapped in a claim.

You smiled, your fingers tracing lightly over his wrist. “Always.”

[multi-fandom-imagine]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 || 𝐒𝐨𝐤𝐤𝐚 ||

A/n: here you go! @bisexualgirly12 i apologize it took me a while

The Cave of Two Lovers was supposed to be a shortcut, an easy detour through the treacherous mountain pass. Instead, it had become the latest in a long list of disasters.

“This is your fault,” Sokka grumbled, pacing in the dim torchlight. His arms were crossed, his jaw set, and his expression was full of exasperation. “We should’ve just taken the long way like I said.”

“You mean the way that had Fire Nation patrols?” you shot back, mirroring his stance. “Yeah, great idea, Sokka. That would’ve been so much better.”

“It would’ve been safer!”

“You got us lost twice today. Why would I trust your navigation skills now?”

“Excuse me? I am great with directions!”

“You once got lost in a straight tunnel....”

Sokka opened his mouth, closed it, then dramatically threw his arms in the air. “Okay, that was one time! And I was tired!”

"That's such a stupid excuse!" You huffed, hugging yourself against the growing chill of the cave. The torchlight flickered in Sokka’s hands, casting long shadows against the ancient rock walls. Somewhere in the distance, the faint hum of glowing crystals pulsed softly, as if mocking the two of you.

“Ugh, forget it. Let’s just focus on getting out of here before—"

The flame sputtered.

Both of you froze.

The torch flickered once.

Twice.

Then, with a final, pitiful fizzle—darkness.

A beat of silence stretched between you before Sokka let out a strangled, barely-contained groan. “No, no, no—come on, stupid fire! Work with me!” He shook the torch aggressively, as if sheer willpower could reignite it.

“Brilliant,” you muttered, pressing your fingers to your temple. “We’re actually going to die down here.”

“Okay, dramatic. We are not going to die,” Sokka insisted. “We’re just… temporarily inconvenienced.”

You sighed, crossing your arms. “You don’t have another torch, do you?”

“…No.”

“Do you have flint?”

A pause. “…No.”

You inhaled sharply through your nose, trying to suppress the overwhelming urge to strangle him. “So what you’re saying is, we’re stuck here, in complete darkness, because you—the guy who is supposed to be the responsible one—forgot to bring a backup torch?”

“Hey! That is not fair!” Sokka retorted, waving his arms wildly despite the fact that you couldn’t see him. “Katara usually handles the fire stuff! And you could’ve brought one too, you know!”

"Me! Ugh you're so!"You were about to argue when something caught your eye. A faint glow, seeping into the cavern like a heartbeat.

The crystals.

As your vision adjusted, the darkness gave way to an ethereal blue-green shimmer, illuminating the space around you. The soft light carved out the sharp edges of Sokka’s face, his furrowed brows easing as he, too, noticed the glow.

“Well… that’s kinda pretty,” he admitted.

You exhaled a laugh, some of the tension melting away. “Yeah. It is.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The bickering was forgotten, replaced by the strange, unexpected quiet of the cave. Sokka was looking at you now, really looking—his usual smirk absent, replaced by something softer, more hesitant.

The glow of the crystals played with the shadows on his face, making his features seem even sharper, even closer. His blue eyes flickered to your lips, just for a second, before darting away.

“Y’know,” he started, scratching the back of his neck. “That old guy—Chong—he said something about, uh… the whole kissing to escape the cave thing.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you seriously suggesting that we—”

“No! I mean—maybe?” Sokka groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. “Look, I’m just saying, we should consider all options, and if there’s even a tiny chance that smooching is the secret exit button, then—”

You rolled your eyes. “Sokka.”

“I mean, it’s not the worst idea—”

“Sokka.”

“I’m just thinking practically!”

“Are you?” you teased, stepping closer. His rambling cut off immediately.

There was a shift in the air between you, a charge that hadn’t been there before. The usual push and pull of your banter had always been just that—playful, teasing, full of exasperation but never… this. Never something that sent warmth curling in your chest. Never something that made your pulse stutter when he looked at you like that.

Sokka swallowed. “So… should we, uh—”

Instead of answering, you leaned in.

The kiss was hesitant at first—uncertain, warm, the barest brush of lips. But then Sokka responded, his hand instinctively reaching for your waist, pulling you a fraction closer as the glow of the crystals wrapped around you like firelight.

It was brief, soft, but enough to make your heart skip.

When you pulled away, Sokka blinked at you, wide-eyed, like he wasn’t entirely sure what just happened.

“Well,” he breathed. “That was… huh.”

You smirked. “You say that like it was a bad thing.”

“No! Not at all! Just… unexpected.” He paused, lips twitching. “I mean, I always thought if we kissed, it’d be after, like, I heroically saved you from a Fire Nation ambush. Or after I gave an incredibly moving, poetic speech about my feelings. Or maybe even under the moon—”

You snorted. “So you’ve thought about it?”

Sokka immediately went red. “I—I mean—shut up.”

You laughed, and he let out a groan, covering his face with his hands. But then, after a second, he peeked at you through his fingers, a sheepish smile curling at the edges of his lips.

“…Can we do that again? Y’know, just to see if it really helps us get out of here.”

You rolled your eyes, but your grin gave you away. “Sure, Sokka. For strictly practical reasons, of course.”

And as he kissed you again, you could swear the glow of the crystals burned just a little brighter.

[muchanmocha]

Do you think that Luka has a hard time understanding and/or feeling remorse for his actions if they don’t directly affect him, and do you think this is why he lacked a reaction at Hyun Woo’s death? Your post about him being horrified by killing his clones when he really wanted to set them free was great, and that, along with him also being horrified at Hyuna’s death, has me wondering this. But Luka seemed to genuinely see Hyun Woo as his friend even though they weren’t as close towards the end, but maybe they had drifted far enough apart in Luka's mind that he didn’t really associate himself with Hyun Woo at that point? What do you think?

[Referencing this post]

I actually have a longer post in the works about how the dead clones scene fits into the bigger picture and why I think it'd basically set everything else in motion, including what happened with Hyun Woo. But I can try to respond with some of the main points here!

-

Why did Luka lack a reaction to Hyun Woo's death, unlike with the clones and Hyuna?

But that's exactly it isn't it? Those two events bookend all of the times inbetween where Luka doesn't seem to care.

The scene with the clones is significant because it's the first time.

The scene with Hyuna is significant because it happened to Hyuna, and as I will get into further down, Hyuna fulfills a specific role for him.

What happened to the dead clones utterly broke his will and Luka chose to cope with that by completely withdrawing into himself, essentially committing to a form of escapism or dissociation.

In your dreams, you'll run and play

In paradise

— Wiege

I think after the clones incident, he basically just started blocking out everything that involves him processing death and loss.

That's where Hyuna comes in.

Hyuna is his escapism.

[Made a post breaking down the events with Hyun Woo here]

What changed with Luka and Hyun Woo wasn't that they drifted apart so Luka didn't care about him enough to be affected by his death.

What changed was that after the clones died, Luka threw away a reality he couldn't cope with to drown himself in Hyuna and only Hyuna.

In other words, he didn't react to Hyun Woo's death because it's part of the reality he's denying. He's (perhaps subconsciously) not allowing himself to acknowledge it or process it.

But he can't do that with Hyuna.

If Hyuna is his way of escaping from reality, where is he supposed to go, to escape to, when she's the one dying?

Despite the blood that follows him, Hyuna is the probably first time he's been forced to confront death since that very first scene with the clones.

Do you think Luka has a hard time understanding/or feeling remorse for his actions if they don't directly affect him?

There are strong implications that come with the fact that Hyuna told Luka to forgive himself.

It means he hasn't forgiven himself.

He keeps running away from what happened, and what's happening, because he isn't able to and won't be able to forgive himself for what he's done.

By not acknowledging the present and not processing the deaths that follow him, he essentially side-steps the problem.

He doesn't have to confront the guilt, shame, internal struggles, or the question of forgiveness... if it had never happened, right?

(To be clear he does know that people have died, whether that be Hyun Woo or the Alien Stage contestants he went up against.)

(However knowing something and processing something are two different things and I suspect he's mentally blocking himself from doing the latter.)

The dead clones incident can only affect him so deeply because he does have the inherent capacity for compassion.

But the world of Alien Stage is not kind to those with compassion. So he throws it away.

The post-Round 7 interview states that Luka looks down on Mizi and co for getting swept up in their emotions.

Luka likely dismisses this as foolishness by simply avoiding it.

— Post Round 7 Q&A, Patreon

Yeah, he does. I mean he basically dialed up that avoidance to 100.

Vivimeng describe Mizi and co as "strong individuals who, in a space that seems inhumane, seek to connect by loving others."

And that's absolutely true. They really are brave individuals for daring to care when it will only hurt more if they do.

At the same time it's understandable that Luka chose to turn away from that.

At a young age, he's already been shown, quite brutally, what happens if you care.

-

Thanks for the ask, anon! I ended up connecting even more dots while writing this up lol

[jynzzn]

love and affection

pairing : husband!yeonjun x wife!f!reader genre : fluff

wc : 990

note : not proofread.

The rain continued to pour relentlessly outside showing no sign of stopping any soon, creating a soothing rhythm that filled the room. As the night deepened, the temperature dropped making the air a bit chilly. After mindless hour of scrolling through his phone, Yeonjun, who had been sitting on the couch beside you letting out a sigh as he tossed his phone aside and stretched his arms above his head.

Looking over at you who's still engrossed in your romance book since after dinner. Yeonjun was struck by how focused and concentrated you looked, completely lost in the world of reading. Finally, he cleared his throat breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you.

" You've been reading that for hours. Are you going to put that down and pay attention to me now? "

You, who's been too caught up, tear your gaze away from the book and looked at him. " Why? Jealous 'cause I've been paying attention to the book more than you? " Clearly trying to riled him up because when he's already bored out of his mind, he'd rather cling onto you.

His eyebrows furrowed at your reply, a pout forming on his lips as he continued to stare at you. "What? Jealous? Of a book? No way!" But his expression says otherwise, and you know it.

" Sure you're not... "

" Oh come on... "

You just chuckled at behavior knowing that he's just in a clingy mood right now and decided to test it further. You closed your book and got up from the couch before making your way to the bedroom. " I'll continue reading this in the bedroom. "

Yeonjun's eyes followed you as you got up from the couch and headed upstairs. He couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment at your sudden departure. " Wait a minute, you're just gonna ditch me like that? No good night kiss or anything? " He called after you.

But no response from you, all he heard is that the door being closed meaning you're already in the room. He muttered a curse under his breath and wait until he make a decision to got up from the couch and made his way upstairs to the bedroom.

The moment he opened the door, he already see you getting all comfortable on the bed as you continued to read your book, again.

" Baby, you can't just ignore me like this! " He whined, like a kid who's been denied to have their favorite candy. Seeing that you continue to ignore him, he walked into the room and closed the door before making his way to the bed, where you are.

"Baby," he called, tugging on your shirt, but your constant ignorant was getting to him.

Meanwhile you on the other hand, wanted nothing but to gave in to him. Though, maybe you actually want him to suffer a bit without your affection.

Yeonjun had reached his limit. His patience was running thin, and with a firm but gentle motion, he snatched the book from your hands and set it aside on the table. Without a word, he shifted closer to you, his gaze intense as he laid himself down on top of you on the bed. The weight of his body pressed against yours, and you felt his arms encircle you, effectively locking you in place as if to ensure you couldn’t escape his attention.

" Now, may I have your attention, please? " He pleaded, looking up at you with the puppy eyes, one that you can't resist. " Please ? Pretty please? You know you want to give me your attention. "

Yeonjun nuzzled into your chest like a cat seeking attention from its owner. He then looked up at you with the same pleading eyes again but this time a pout forming on his lips.

You couldn't ignore the fluttered in your chest when he looked at you like this. With a reluctant sigh, you spoke. " Fineee ". The once pout on his lips now turning into a full grin when you gave in to him.

" Knew it." Yeonjun said, a winning smile on his lips. " Now, how about a kiss...wait , kisses because you ignore me earlier? It's only fair like this, right? Or maybe type of kiss that happen in the book you read? " He said , waggling his eyebrows at you that only earn a smack on the shoulder from you.

" Ow- oh how cruel! All I want is a kiss from my beautiful wife and she hits me! Cruel woman.. " He shake his head in mock disappointment, as if truly wounded.

You scoffs, crossing your arms. "Maybe if you stopped being such a drama king, I'd consider it." He gasps, clutching his chest like you just stabbed him. "Drama king? Me? I’m merely a devoted husband, yearning for a little affection."

You raises a brow at him. "A little affection? You act like you’re starved." Yeonjun sighs dramatically. "I am starved. Deprived. Neglected!" You rolls your eyes at him , tilting your head. "Fine. Here."

He barely has time to react before you leans in—only to stop an inch away from his lips. Instead, you flicks his forehead.

"Hey!" He scowls, rubbing the spot.

"What? I technically gave you attention."

"Cruel. Absolutely cruel. Marrying you was both the best and worst decision of my life."

You chuckled and leaned in to give him a real kiss this time—only for him to suddenly pull back with a smirk.

"Oh? Now you want to kiss me?" he teases, tilting his head. "After all that cruelty?"

You roll your eyes. "Fine. Forget it, then." You said, about to pushed him off from you but he make no move to get off from you.

"Ah-ah, too late. I’ve suffered enough, compensation is required," he murmurs before finally closing the gap, stealing the kiss himself.

26225

jynzzn note : my draft is full of unfinish writing.. ahaha...

[comphy-and-cozy]

3:56am - Andrei Svechnikov

Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov x Reader (f)

Summary: Andrei wakes up in the middle of the night and can't sleep.

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY). Established relationship CNC, unprotected sex, creampie.

Author's Note: Surprise, @smileysvech & @pyotrkochetkov! You both sent this idea a while ago and it's been collecting dust on my shelf for several months but I was finally ready to bust it out for your reading pleasure. She's short and sweet but I hope y'all enjoy it all the same!

Masterlist

A dull throbbing in his stomach rouses him from sleep. What is that?

Slowly, groggily, Andrei blinks a few times, vision foggy as consciousness finds its way back to him. Soft light is starting to leak through the curtains, and he can make out your sleeping silhouette in the first bits of the morning sun. Your body rises and falls slowly as you breathe, fast asleep still. Dreaming, maybe.

He’s awake now. Awake enough to register that it’s early. And that the throbbing in his stomach, the one that woke him, is actually a raging hard on.

An exhale, a glance at the clock on the nightstand. 3:56am.

Then, he looks back toward you, admiring your form, so beautiful even when sleeping. His eyes trail over your figure, gaze tracing over your dips and curves as a memory of last night floods back to him: Sighs, moans, the feeling of your soft skin underneath his fingertips, of the type of pleasure he’s never had with anyone else. The thought alone earns a low pulse between his legs.

He sucks in a breath when he moves the sheet slightly to see your shirt—his shirt—riding up your back, and—no panties.

And fuck, if you aren’t still dripping. Even in the low light of the morning, he can see the way you glisten, drooling from your earlier tryst. He isn’t sure if it’s his cum or yours, briefly slipping back into a lusty daydream at the way you squeezed him, moaning out his name while your hips rolled in his lap, milking him for all he's worth. Apparently, you really liked the way he looked in his Whalers jersey—you made him keep the white and green sweatband on, now lying somewhere on the floor after you threatened to use it to tie his wrists together if he didn’t let you take control.

Almost as if on cue, his dick throbs against his leg, like it’s pleading with him to be inside you. He groans, moving to grip his cock in his hand and using the visual of your soaked cunt as inspiration. Briefly, he wonders if he should move to the bathroom to avoid waking you, but he can’t bring himself to move from the warmth of your body or the scent of your shampoo—it plays an important part in the stiff rigidity against his palm.

Andrei imagines his fist is your pussy, gripping himself tightly as he ascends into heaven. It’s not the same without your moans of encouragement, the cutest sounds that have him hard in seconds.

But no matter how hard he strokes, how good it feels, he can’t quite get there, feeling like he’s hit an invisible wall before reaching the finish line. He grunts, squeezing himself so tightly it hurts, and he releases his dick in frustration. He’s breathing embarrassingly heavy, heart ticking in his throat, willing the tightness in his balls to just go away.

The idea comes to him in a flash and he chews on the inside of his cheek, mulling it over.

Just the tip, he thinks, it’ll be fine. She told me it was fine.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the steady hum of your breathing while he has an internal debate beside you. And then you shift, a soft sigh falling from your lips in the exact same way you sound when he buries himself inside you, and his dick twitches against his stomach.

Fuck it.

With far more patience than he thought he was capable of, he inches his hips forward, pausing to grit his teeth at the way his head bumps against your soft, wet lips. Slowly, he runs the tip along your slit, teasing you even in your sleep. You sigh out a sleepy moan, the sound escaping on an exhale, and he feels himself throb in the loose grip he has on his dick.

Steadily, achingly slowly, he nudges himself between your lips, pushing just into your entrance. His eyes are drawn to the subtle movement of your hips, your hips canting backward unconsciously to seek out more of the feeling. Andrei can’t help but smirk to himself, smug at the way you desperately yearn for him even in your sleep.

He’s halfway inside you when another moan sounds from your mouth, lips parted this time. He bites his own lip to stop from groaning too loudly so as not to wake you; the overwhelming urge to rail you into oblivion is nearly ready to take over and he isn’t even fully inside of you yet.

And then your back arches, unintentionally pressing him even further into you, and this time he can’t help the grunt that escapes him, or the way his hips push forward the last bit before he’s completely sheathed inside of you. The warmth of your cunt hugs him in a way that makes his eyes squeeze shut, feeling the way your walls throb around him in a way that his hand could never replicate.

Finally, pure bliss.

Soon enough, he’s moving experimentally, hyper aware of your movements, watching carefully to see if you’re awake. One hand grasps onto your hip, holding your body in place while he rolls his against you. His thrusts are slow, intentional, observing your reactions so he can earn that sweet, sleepy moan of yours again.

Very gradually, Andrei picks up his pace, burying himself to the hilt each time. With a glance down, he watches the way your ass presses against his hips with each push forward, hand itching to spank you. Instead, he occupies himself with pressing his chest against your back, leaning forward slightly to drape his arm over your hip, hand dancing over your mound. He teases alongside his leisuresome tempo, fingers working their way around your clit before finally landing on it. With another encouraging moan from you, he begins timing his thrusts forward with a brush of your clit.

It’s only a few moments later that a low, husky sigh leaves your mouth and your hips begin rolling against him of their own accord. You’re awake, and fuck, you want it. The way your body moves is uninhibited, using him to seek further pleasure and find your high.

“Andrei,” you whisper, far too strung out to ask how you got here, instead gripping onto the strong, flexing muscle of his bicep. Your tone is begging, though he wants to be sure what for before he continues.

“Yeah, kisa, what do you want?” he murmurs, lips pressing against your shoulder blade. His voice is soft, deep, and he can feel the way you clench around him at the sound of his voice.

You reply in a wanton moan, the words indiscernible. Although it pains him to do so, he stills the grinding of your hips. “What’s that, sweetheart?”

He almost laughs at the way you whimper when his large hand prevents you from resuming your gyration. You’re cute when you’re confused, when sleep is still heavy in your eyes despite the very awake sensations in your body.

“Drei,” you whisper, “please, fuck me.”

The desperation in your voice has him throbbing inside your walls, the sensation in turn earning a tight clench around him. He’s got a little bit of patience left, the smallest drop, enough to steady the slow push of his hips as he inches his way back inside you.

It’s worth it, he thinks, by the lilt of your moan. He’s teasing, riling the both of you up, relishing the delicious way you squeeze him. Another cry of his name has his resolve evaporating in an instant, snapping his hips forward as he buries himself to the hilt. The action earns a wail from your throat, encouraging him to keep going, setting a pace that’s patient but rough, hitting all of the right spots.

“Fuck,” he grunts, entwining his fingers with yours when your hands flail around in search of purchase, holding yourself steady to accept the force of his thrusts. It takes everything in him to stay focused, to keep a rhythm he knows is worth keeping by the way it’ll drive you lustfully mad for him.

The sensation of getting railed so deeply and so thoroughly while the shade of sleep still hasn’t been entirely shaken from your eyes is exquisite; still pliant beneath his hands, unable to control the whimpers that escape your throat.

“Andrei,” you moan, and he feels the impact directly in his balls. “Love how pretty you sound when you're all fucked out for me,” he purrs in your ear. “So slutty and needy, just for me, kisa. Tell me what you want.”

Another whimper follows his command, and he feels the way you clench tightly around him. “W-want you to—fuck—make me… come. Please.”

He breathes out his chuckle in a husky whisper. “Already, milaya?”

Your reply is a jumble of words that he can’t quite hear, so he slows his pace down to buy himself a little time; Andrei knows he won't last, knows that as soon as he feels the tidalwave of your orgasm begin, he'll lose it entirely, and sleep is too near for him to stave it off. So, he slows his pace down to buy himself some time when your reply is another jumble of words he can’t quite hear.

“Was dreaming—’bout you inside of me.”

“Fuck,” he says, the realization that you were already dreaming about him mere hours after he’d already ravaged you thoroughly hitting him square in the chest. The thought nearly makes him go dizzy. “You were already dreaming about this? About my cock fucking this gorgeous, needy pussy? That why you so wet for me, lyubimaya?”

“Always dream about your cock, Drei,” you say with a gasp when he thrusts his hips forward sharply in approval.

“Such a perfect little slut for me,” he groans. “Think maybe I will reward you by letting you come for me, again.”

All he gets in response from you is an eager cry, his hips punching forward and setting a new, quck rhythm that has the breath in your throat catching. It doesn’t take long for both of your releases to build back up to their boiling points, that delicious, bubbling heat reaching its crescendo at the place where your bodies meet.

For a moment, time stands still. There's a few blissful seconds just before the peak begins, those few glorious moments at the top of a roller coaster before the drop. Andrei feels like he could burst with love and joy—and sure, yes, burst with something else—and it's positively euphoric, like he's at the top of the world.

And then both of you erupt in mutual release, him spilling deep into your clenching core, your cry of ecstasy masking his deep, low grunt of your name. The world is ablaze, along with every sense and nerve in your bodies, pleasure blanketing you in a world of bliss.

When he finally comes to, he feels your skin against his chest first, warm against his panting chest. Your pussy, wet and warm and still wrapped snugly around his length, twitches weakly. Andrei allows his hand to stroke soft, gentle patterns onto your stomach as he prepares himself to pull out of your perfect heat.

Your small sigh of protest when he does has him clenching his jaw, willing the blood to not surge back to his dick. Then, carefully, shift your body to turn around and face him. Your eyes are still sleepy, but the dopey smile on your face makes his heart soar.

“That was fun,” you whisper, like you've only just realized how late—early?—it is.

“Couldn't help it, lyubimaya,” he says. “Needed you.”

You press a soft kiss to his lips and warmth fills his body. He tries to hide the way his knees wobble as he rolls off the bed to fetch a cloth to clean both of you up; afterward, he's slipping back underneath the covers, accepting your frame instantly into his arms.

“If we go back to sleep now,” you murmur, “there'll still be a chance for you to wake me up in the morning like this again.”

SIMILAR CONTENT

Sundress Season* Ruin Me* Glittery*

[oopsiedaisydeer]

ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ, ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ɴᴏᴛ… ᴀ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ

emotional tension, social anxiety, one-sided attraction?, unresolved tension, self-doubt, slow burn, angst, texting, fluff, coming-of-age, friends to lovers?

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙬𝙤: 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙣𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙡, 𝘧𝘵. 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨!𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘺!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

series masterlist here.

word count - 700ish

The next day felt strange.

You woke up on Saturday morning with a vague sense of something missing, a curiosity nibbling at you that you couldn’t shake. The party was behind you now, but for some reason, Matt’s presence lingered in your thoughts. You tried to push it aside, telling yourself it was just another random conversation. After all, you’d only talked for a few minutes outside the chaos. It was nothing. But still, there was that flutter in your heart that came whenever someone noticed you, even for the briefest of moments.

Sitting in your room, you grabbed your phone, staring at it for a moment. Matt’s contact, which you had only because of your class’s group chat, felt like an opening. You’d never texted him before, but now, with his number in your contacts…

Should you text him? It wasn’t like you had much to say. It wasn’t like anything you had talked about last night invited it, but still, you wanted to. So desperately, you wanted to relive that moment again, how good you had felt, how easy it had been.

Your finger hovered over the keyboard, erasing and rewriting the message until you finally settled on something simple, something casual:

hey, did u actually read that trilogy u were talking about last night or were u just lying to impress me?

You stared at it, reading it over and over. It wasn’t too forward, right? You’d barely spoken before, but to you, last night had been different. Less of a random encounter and more like... something worth holding onto, even if only for the briefest of moments.

With a deep breath, you hit send.

For a few seconds, you almost regretted it. Maybe it was stupid. Maybe it wasn’t even that funny. You threw the phone across the bed, and started putting your laundry away, desperate for something to do. The anxiety, which you had barely been managing to keep at bay, immediately flared up as your phone buzzed almost immediately.

It was Matt.

Ofc I read it. Unlike some people, I am not a poser

You blinked, a small laugh escaping before you could stop it. That wasn’t the response you expected. You could almost hear his teasing tone through the text, that familiar, easygoing confidence in his words.

If you want, I can lend it to you

You smiled to yourself, reading his message. It wasn’t a grand gesture. It wasn’t deep or meaningful. But there was something about the lightheartedness of it all, the ease with which you were texting, that made you feel a little less out of place in the conversation.

u mean I can’t just buy books? gotta step up my game, and actually read them too??

You sent the message, already imagining his reaction. Almost immediately, he responded.

Yep, no posers here I’ll be watching lol

Your heart did a strange little flip. It wasn’t much. It was just texting, just banter. But there was something about the way he messaged you that made it feel... real. Like you were both still in that quiet corner of the porch, talking without all the noise of the party drowning out everything.

You didn’t know where this would go, if anywhere at all. But you knew one thing for sure: this was more than you ever expected.

As you were about to put your phone down, your brain already accepting that that was all you were going to get, another message popped up.

Actually, speaking of that book I could use ur help with something for lit. You free?

Your eyes widened as you read it. He wanted your help? You paused, uncertain how to respond. Was it weird that he was asking you, out of all people? You didn’t know him well, but there was something about his tone that made it feel... normal.

sure !! what do u need help with?

You sent the message quickly, your curiosity piqued.

For a moment, the excitement was almost overwhelming, he was reaching out to you for something more than just a casual chat. You’d been talking about casual things so far, but this felt... different.

No response came.

You waited.

And waited.

Minutes passed. You checked your phone again, hoping. Nothing.

He was probably busy, something else having grabbed his attention. But the longer you stared at the screen, the more you felt the weight of your unanswered message hanging there.

Just as you were about to put the phone down, you saw the three little dots appear, signaling that he was typing.

But then, it stopped.

No new message. Nothing.

thank u rose for the dividers as always <3 @bernardsbendystraws

a/n: im always so scared to post shit i actually really like. anyways hmmmmmm what r our thoughts!! also pls feel more than free to send in asks about these two :>>

taglist: @backwardshatnick @sturnslutz @applecidersturniolo @kier-with-a-k @evansturn @bluestriips @55sturn @snoopychris @y3sterdaysproblem @cowboylikenat @throatgoat4u @mattswifeyy @marysongohmy @idefinitelyhateu @sweetshuga comment to be removed/added to this taglist!

till next time !!!

[valeriefauxnom]

Dragalia Niche Things In Weapon Lore You May Not Know

-Emperor Dane, ya know, the dude that Jupiter accidentally set on a brutal conquest where he became a dude that would kill two for fun every day?

He was also a weeaboo:

I knew there must have been warning signs that such a nice prince could be beholden to such depravity...

-Karina's real identity maaaaybe is Miralda, princess of Dargas.

The weapon that bears this description is a water axe, the very same weapon and element she wields, and it theoretically fits within her story. She claims that she ran off, but hardly escaped before she was captured. It would make sense that in a pirate invasion that they'd be crawling over the area enough to instantly get ahold of her.

If true, this would be an interesting case of Dragalia telling the future of a character. It's also one I potentially could see, since Karina's story focuses on her wondering how Euden has kept himself as a Good Boi even if he's a prince among all those Nasty Bois and Girls, so I could see her being inspired to change things in her own land later on.

Granted, it's not 100%, 'I have a definitive section where she clearly states she is Miralda', but I think there's enough 'hmm' elements to warrant a spot here!

-Zodiark had a cult around him, who called themselves Meggidothians! Also, they liked sacrificing humans.

...Of course, not officially sanctioned, but that didn't stop them!

Meggidoth might have also been a real person, but it is unknown how much he was involved or responsible for the cult's creation/tenets:

They also have an alternative cosmology:

-This isn't really a hidden lore or fact, but I find it curious that the weapon 'Blackwing' bears such a strong resemblance to Zodiark, without being attributed to him in any way. It looks more like him than his actual high dragon weapon:

-Alberius had a lance made when his kingdom was created and promised to personally kill anyone with it that threatened the formation of the new nation. He meant business, I guess!

-Tartarus may have been cut in half by the Greatwyrms, which is the reason he's now half-steel:

-Humans once got so nutty over a spear that Mercury put it at the bottom of the ocean

-There may be more than just one ark of humans living in the sky and at least one may have fallen and did a whoopsie destruction of a kingdom:

-Kukris are a weapon tied to the southeastern-most part of Grastea:

...And this is another instance of 'very niche lore that the writers kept track of', as Nevin's story also reaffirms this lore that kukris aren't really used except in the SE:

-This is just a funny intermission, but I find it funny if you take the many many many weapon descriptions literally, Euden's handing out weapons left and right quite skilled in delivering torture and otherwise painstaking deaths and subsequent commendations to a similarly terrible afterlife. Oh yeah and some also can destroy the world. Here's a small sample of what I mean:

And trust me, despite the 3/4 examples being shadow weapons, this is far from exclusive to the shadow element. So, uh, yeah.

Don't mess with the Halidom unless you want to face a whole bunch of people capable of sending you and your soul into endless agonies?

Intermission over! Back to the actual lore parts instead of just the 'oh boy you're gonna love to hear what this beauty's capable of...' likely exaggerations.

-There's a prison called Odo somewhere in the world, who seems to have a lot of executioners who predominately execute by the good old axe or by a bow in a proto version of a firing squad, judging by their weapons.

It's unknown if it still exists, however, as Odo was the place Stribog the dragon protected until Agni destroyed it with a firebomb disguised as a Trojan Horse. Maybe it was rebuilt and eventually repurposed as a prison town?

As bonus related lore, the death penalty is very much still active in Alberia, and usually takes the form of beheading or hanging. It can be commanded by local lords (as feudalism is in full effect with local lords having much control over the workings of their endowed region) as well as through courts.

There's also this bit of lore regarding it in another weapon:

-There may have been another race in Grastea, possibly their equivalent of halfling or gnome-esque races:

-This strays into other niche lore, but there was a band of elite Alberian knights called the Alberian Ironsides who seemed to love tower shields:

-Also another crossover between wyrmprints and weapon lore, the Battle of the Thelodian Plains was one at least 300 years ago in which eventually 23 armies unaffiliated with a formal state came together in a senseless battle, with a casualty rate of 80% (quick reminder that 'casualty' counts both injured and dead).

-There was a dude called Count Logan the Brave who seemed to like collecting weapons and bringing them back home. There's three weapons that mention him.

-Interestingly, Troy, the one adventurer dude that pops up a bit frequently in weapon lore, the wand from his last supposed adventure seems to bear a bit of a resemblance to Bahamut...

...Who, by the way, was indeed the explicit creator of the earth, as Xenos crafted sky instead!

-Last but not least, Zodiark really just seems to be involved in a lot of weapons that are Not Good for their wielder:

That's all I have right now, but I do hope that you learned something about the eternally-batty Grastea, through the weapons its residents use!