#means it will never perform as well as needed to *truly* be the success it would have to be to become a darling cash cow

[girlbob-boypants]

Anyway the reason why you shouldn't pre order Veilguard isn't because of some moral protest about the layoffs. It's because deceptive marketing and releasing unfinished products are the current standard in the AAA space and a few pieces of mediocre fashion do NOT warrant spending 60+ usd now for a game that might not even run later.

[botnasty]

The Missing Link

Pornstar!Bucky Barnes X Director!Reader

Words: 2.2k words

Warnings: Smut (Duh), lill past trauma, but sweet ass bucky.

Note: I am getting rid of some of my draft and this was part of it.

Main Masterlist

“Where is she? She was the one who begged to do a shoot with him!” It was almost chaos in the house you rented. Everyone was ready for today; the cameras were set up, Bucky Barnes, aka The White Wolf as the porn industry calls him, was in the back getting ready with his fluffer. Everything was set and ready, except for his co-star. She was the one who approached you in the first place, Bucky’s manager, to do this shoot with him. She had begged you for months to be able to do a video with him, and the moment it was supposed to happen, she disappeared.

“Did you contact her manager?” asked one of the cameramen. You almost wanted to roll your eyes. “Of course I did, John. What do you think I’ve been doing all this time? He says he can’t contact her either. She is completely AWOL.” Your hands were almost shaking. You couldn’t just ask everyone who came; unfortunately, they weren’t needed... And Bucky, you made him come out here on his day off. You couldn’t just tell him it was all for nothing.

“Think, think.” You said to yourself as you kept on pacing in the white hallway that led to the bedroom where the shooting was supposed to happen – hopefully. What did your own manager do when you were a pornstar? You sighed and leaned against the wall. He would have done nothing, since he was a sack of shit who literally stole money from you, which was the reason you left being a porn star to become a manager yourself.

Years ago, being a pornstar was some of the worst times of your life. The lack of respect and regulation in the industry made it hard for anyone to truly enjoy what they did. It was a world where exploitation lurked behind the glamor, where your worth was often measured by your ability to perform on camera rather than your humanity. 

But now, times have changed. The industry has evolved, becoming more professional and respectful of its performers. Your own experiences in the past have shaped the way you approach your current role as a manager. You left behind the world of adult entertainment, partly because of the exploitation you faced, but also because of a manager who took advantage of you, stealing money and betraying your trust.

Despite the challenges you faced, you've found a way to navigate the industry with integrity. Your decision to step back into a role you thought you had left behind speaks to your dedication to ensuring the success of this shoot. You're willing to do what it takes to make sure everything goes smoothly, even if it means revisiting a past you'd rather forget.

“Boss, you okay?” You jumped back to see Bucky out of the room that was assigned to his dressing room. He had no shirt on, only a pair of jeans, which was how he was supposed to be in the scene. “Yeah, all is good, but I think you heard about the problem.”

“She still hasn’t shown up?” He tossed his hair back with his hand. “Well, this complicates things… Maybe I could do a solo shoot? It could be a solution,” he grinned, "because I do not think any random co-star will pop out of nowhere.”

You walked closer to him and looked up into his eyes. “You could, but there is also another solution, only if you are comfortable with it…”

It’s like he knew exactly what you were talking about because his eyes widened. “You would do that? But wasn’t your experience in the past something you told me you never would’ve wanted to do again?”

You looked at the time on your phone. “I know, but it would be necessary. We are on contract, and the agency wants a full video, not just a solo one.” You tried your best to keep your voice steady. You trusted Bucky; you knew him ever since he was an amateur in the porn industry, and you knew how he was with all his co-stars. He always tried to make them comfortable, get to know them a little so that when the camera rolled, everything went smoothly.

“You would trust me with that?” He scratched his pec and leaned closer to you as you nodded. “Okay, and I am comfortable doing that with you too, but if at any time, it gets too much, we stop, and I do not care what the agency says. It’s not our fault she didn’t show up.” His eyes went back and forth between yours. “Are we clear?” You wanted to laugh. You were the manager here; you were supposed to be the one comforting and all that, but here he was doing that to you.

“Yeah, big guy, I guess it’s time for me to go get ready. I'll tell everyone it’s almost ‘go’ time. And you,” you pointed at him, “Go back to your fluffer and get ready.” You said with a smile.

He smiled back. “Oh, I do not think I’ll need one for this shoot.”

After the decision is made for you to step in as Bucky's co-star, the atmosphere on set shifts. The initial tension and uncertainty give way to a focused determination to make the best of the situation. As you both prepare for the scene, there's a sense of mutual respect and understanding between you and Bucky, forged through years of working in the industry.

As the cameras start rolling, the room falls into a hushed anticipation, a quiet reverence for the performance about to unfold. You and Bucky stand facing each other, the air thick with tension and unspoken words. The set fades away, and it's just the two of you, locked in a moment that feels both intimate and exhilarating.

Bucky's touch is like fire against your skin, igniting a passion that burns brightly between you. His eyes are intense, filled with a hunger that mirrors your own. Your head is all over the place as to what is about to unfold. You can feel the heat of his body radiating against yours, heightening every sensation, every touch.

"You ready?" Bucky's voice is a low growl, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. His fingers start stroking the skin on your arms.

You nodded, your voice barely a whisper. "More than ready."

He grins, “Well then, let’s start this.” He grabbed your head in his big hands and kissed you on the lips. Never in your life would you have ever thought of being on the receiving end of Bucky Barnes. You had always guiltily imagined it: being his co-star. Your arm traveled around his neck as your other hand explored his tone body. He was so firm at all the right places. You wanted to smirk when you heard him growl as you reached lower and lower.

Suddenly, before you could even reach his bulge, he let go of you. “Get on your knees, baby. Come on.” He let you slide down on your knee as he held to your hair. “Get in out for me.”

“I happily will.” You couldn’t help but say. You licked your lips when you saw a glimpse of the head poking out from the top of his boxer. He was so big, you were already salivating at the thought of having him in your mouth. 

As you pulled down the boxers, his dick springs out, the tip so red it looked uncomfortable. You placed your hands on his thighs and let a drool of spit land on the tip. It’s so thick you couldn’t help but think. You wrapped your hand around the base and you heard his breath hitch. You looked up at him and saw his eyes were dark with desire. “Fuck my face, big guy.” Was the last thing you said before he took your head in his hands and pushed his dick deep inside your mouth, almost choking you. He must have realized his mistake because he asked you: “If it’s too much, tap my thigh twice.” You never did. 

His dick was so heavy in your mouth, so hot. You had never liked sucking your co-star’s dick before, but his dick was now part of the exception. Hesitantly, he let out a low groan, shutting his eyes tightly as he gripped onto your hair even more tightly. His free hand went instinctively towards his chest- covering his heart that was now racing wildly.”Fucking hell, baby. You have such a wet mouth. It feels so good.”

His head fell back slightly, letting out a shaky exhale." Jesus fucking Christ." He muttered, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath. A small smile appeared on his lips though as he opened them again.”Squeeze my balls, baby. Grab them in your hands.” As you did a loud groan left his mouth and he suddenly pulled out.

“I was about to cum, baby. Oh, fuck.” You smirked.

“Oh really? And here I thought the big bad wolf had more in him.” You taunted him. You saw a big smirk appear on his face. “Oh, you asked for it baby.” He grabbed you suddenly, a little gasp leaving your mouth, and threw you on the bed.

“Touch yourself. I want to see what you do when you think of my dick every night.” Slowly you brought your hands to your tits, your fingers twisting your nipples as you looked straight in his eyes. You saw him swallowed thickly, still staring at you with an unreadable expression. For a moment, it’s like he was simply watching  you – taking in every detail of your appearance, committing it to memory.

With one last pinch you brought your hand to your clit, never in your life had you been this wet in a shoot. Always, before, the guy needed to use lube with you, but this time, you could feel some wetness dripping down your thighs and also down your ass. It had been such a long time since you’ve felt pleasure at all.

He got on top of you, hid dick in his hand. "I’m going to fuck you so hard, baby.” He said loud enough for the camera to pick it up, but in your ears he whispered: “You okay?" he asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

You smile, a mix of gratitude and admiration in your gaze. "I'm perfect. You're amazing."

He pecked your lips. “I’m gonna put it in…” He slapped his dick twice against your clip, making you jolt with a moan. The tip of his dick gently breached your opening and already you felt full. He was so big. You placed a hand on his lower back and bit on his neck as he went deeper. “OH, fuck. So fucking tight.”

Your hands grabbed whatever you could have he trusted deep inside of you. The wet sound of sex vibrating in the air, as he kept going. He growled. “I fucking love your pussy.” He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer as he went on his knees. “How come you hid this from me, huh?” You could feel all the ridges of his dick, how veiny it was and the tip always brushing your sweet spot inside in this position. 

You grabbed one of his hands and tried to bring it to your clit. “Please, please, please.” Once he understood, he started rubbing your clit with his thumb as he forced his dic depper in you. Everything was too much.

You let out a moan and tossed your head back, your legs were shaking all over the place. “I can feel you tightening, baby. Are you gonna cum like a good slut on my dick? You are, aren't you.” You tried to nod, but to no avail. Your body was just completely shaking, before you let out a loud moan and you felt your pussy tighten around him. Somehow this was enough to make Bucky Barnes, the man you knew could last for hours, to cum in you. He groaned and moaned as he kept on doing little thrust in you, making all of his cum pooling inside of you just as he fell down on you. Both sweaty bodies against each other and heavy breath mingling.

The room seems to pulse with a shared energy, a connection between you and Bucky that transcends the physical. When the director finally calls "cut," there's a moment of stillness, as if everyone is caught in the spell you've woven.

"You were incredible," Bucky says, his voice filled with genuine admiration and he kissed your cheek. "I couldn't have asked for a better co-star. Maybe we should do this again sometime"

You smile, feeling a sense of pride wash over you, a sense of reborn. "You weren't so bad yourself.”

Thank you so much for reading! PLease do not hesitate to let me know what y'all think:)

[yaksha-lover]

may i request vil, idia, azul and malleus with a reader (reader is their s/o) that is yuu but decided to stay in twisted wonderland and in their second year at nrc they participated in the vdc singing bc, surprise, they have an amazing voice! (i have this thought that maybe they were also in the pop music club with kalim, cater and lillia)

after the vdc many companies contacted them and after graduating at nrc they became a really popular artist

basically the boys reaction to their s/o singing at the vdc and then becoming famous, how would they react and how would they support them

thanks for the request!! sorry i took some time with it! hope you enjoy :)

Vil

Vil probably knew you were a decent singer considering you were in the pop music club

But you’ve never really sang in front of him, so your performance at the VDC definitely takes him by surprise (in a good way)

He’s super happy for you when you start getting offers from recording labels and such

Although he would’ve helped you out with his own contacts in the industry if you’d wanted

He loves that you can relate to each other even more than before

Now you understand what it’s like to be a celebrity as well, both the good and bad, bringing you two closer together

He’s super proud of you and not afraid to show it, hyping you up on all his socials and surprising you with flowers after your concert performances

He’s also very protective of you, knowing how mean and judgemental people can be, and he’s not afraid to stand up for you whenever he can

You two are definitely the celebrity power couple that all the fans love and find super cute

Idia

As much as he didn’t want to go to a social event, Idia was willing to attend just to see you perform

He starts malfunctioning as soon as he hears you sing; he can’t believe he’s with someone so talented and amazing

He’s happy for your success and knows how much you deserve it, even though it can be hard for him considering his antisocial inclinations

He absolutely becomes your biggest fan, no exaggeration

He’s the first to buy all of your merch, wears it proudly and puts up posters of you in his bedroom

Idia is a bit insecure about dating someone so famous and talented and beautiful and kind and every other amazing things that you are

So you’ll need to reassure him sometimes that you still love him and that he’s good enough for you

He’s super shy when you talk about him in interviews, but secretly it makes him so happy for you to acknowledge him as your boyfriend

If you want it, he’ll even offer to help you out with things like editing for music videos or building a website for your brand

Will force himself to go to your concerts, as long as he can sit in the vip box alone with Ortho as the two of them cheer you on

Azul

The first time he hears you sing at the VDC, he’s of two minds about it

First and most obvious, he’s excited for this new opportunity for the both of you

Determined to help you get famous (not just so you can help promo his businesses)

Encourages you strongly when you start getting offers from companies

He’s also just very proud of you for how far you’ve made it just by yourself (you refused his resources, much to his dismay)

He does love how hard you work and truly feels you’re one of the only people who match his drive

At the same time

You’re his partner, and it’s hard for him to watch all these people thirst after you, once you become famous lmao

He loves you and it’s a bit difficult to feel like he has to share you with the rest of the world

Lowkey a bit scared that one day you’ll meet another cool celebrity and decide they’re a better match for you than an octopus

He’ll be okay once you reassure him that you’re not going anywhere

Azul supports you every step of the way, still taking time out of his busy schedule to come see you at your shows or making dinner reservations at his own restaurants

Malleus

Lilia would always speak of you being a great singer but Malleus had never actually heard you sing until the VDC

Immediately fell more in love (if that was even possible)

Your voice and demeanour were so captivating, you were truly lovely in that moment (not that you weren’t always in his mind)

He knows you’ll get offers from companies, he’s so sure of your talent and absolutely wants you to get all the recognition you deserve

He’s happy when your music starts to become more and more famous because people are finally seeing you as wonderfully he does

You deserve to be admired, as long as no one gets too close

No matter how famous you are, you’re still his after all - though few rarely test their luck with you, your boyfriend is Malleus Draconia after all

You’re quick to tell them off, anyway

Being busy with Briar Valley, Malleus doesn’t always have time to come see you in concert

But he does when he can, and he’s sure to make his visit extra special

You definitely become a beloved celebrity of Briar Valley, with all the people loving you as the royal consort, but also because of your talent and music

[woozvc]

call you tonight

final (part XIX)

w/c - 1.6k + smau at the end

a/n - and this is it! after so long call you tonight has officially come to an end. I hope the last part of this clears up the eunwoo situation (reading your replies and theories made my day😭😭) and i hope this is an ending you can be satisfied with. thank you so much for all your love and patience on this series. it truly means a lot that you guys stuck around till the end even with my terrible posting schedule 🫶

previous / masterlist

this is it. this is the day.

the event started 20 minutes ago and till now, it's been a success. the auditorium is filled with laughter and dancing, courtesy of jihoons playlists.

you're currently standing at a corner just observing the entire place. a part of you feels at peace that this is finally over, the results will be out today and this is it. a part of you is also shit scared. the past few days have been a rollercoaster.

seungcheols words keep echoing in your head about how you're still important to him and he's changed. you really want to believe him. you really want to give him a-

“hey are you okay?”

you wake out of your trace by jihoons voice.

“yeah I'm fine”

“you seen a bit…distracted” he hands you a cup of lemonade. you take it with a small smile and shrug his comment off. no need to reply when he's right?

“how do you feel, you know, about your performance and all?” you look at him. he shakes his head

“I don't know. all of this feels unreal. I never thought I'd have to perform that too dance but here we are”

“doesn't it scare you?”

“obviously it does, but I find some comfort in it too. maybe it's the fact that a part of me believes taking this chance could end really well. maybe I'll finally let go of my past fears and just let myself be in the moment once.”

“hah.. that sounds nice.”

“yea I guess so. I think whatever happens tonight, I just hope I don't regret it. I want to take that risk”

you open your mouth to reply but you're interrupted by hoshis voice calling jihoon. he gives you a small smile and walks away.

right. regret. don't regret tonight. you decide to leave your spot in the corner when you see hansol walk in. being with a friend is better than being alone.

so jihoon is an amazing dancer. you were mesmerized, truly. his moves are fluid and his body doesn't miss a single beat. obviously hoshi is amazing too. his sharp and timed movements make him look like he was born for the stage.

the song is also amazing. jihoon later revealed it was called “bring it”. you'll definitely tell him to record it and send it to you.

the auditorium is a bit loud now. one hour till new year and the presidential results are about to be announced. you avoided seungcheol all night today. reason? you don't really know.

maybe you know mentally a part of you won't be able to handle his teasing if he wins. it's all friendly of course, but it doesn't change the fact you really, really want to win.

“hey y/n ready for the results?” jeonghan nudges into you and you push him off with an annoyed whine.

“jeonghan I swear if I don't win you'll have to wipe my tears”

“I won't mind that because I'll be winning”

“this is important to you huh?”

“it's my one shot to prove I'm actually good at something, can't fuck this one up”

“you dont have to prove yourself to anyone you know?”

“this is for me. I need this to tell myself I'm better than I think. I'm done always being known as the problem kid. and who knows maybe this will get me some street cred?” he winks and walks back to his group, knowing if he kept speaking, he would say something something sad and make you feel more stressed than you already do. you'd probably scold him for being so self deprecating too. your eyes follow him walking back and

oh.

seungcheol is looking directly at you. his gaze burning deep into you. you look away quickly, taking a deep breath to calm yourself. the music in the room slowly fades out.

“okay ladies and gentlemen are we ready for the most awaited moment of today?” seungkwans voice echos through the room and so does the cheering of the students.

“honestly? I'm not shocked at the result. I'm so proud of everyone who participated and made it this far. just know all of you are amazing and we as the student council and the teachers love your dedication. so first of all here are the names of the people who made it to the finals”

he starts reading off the list. there's your name and eunwoos name. after a few students he announces jeonghans name and….thats it? what?

this is surely a mistake and the entire auditorium feels so. there's chattering and confused looks all around

“ah yes, there's only 9 participants now. choi seungcheol removed his name because of some unavoidable circumstances so we divided all his votes to all the others”

your head shoots in seungcheols direction. you look at him confused and he smiles at you. he motions you to stay where you are for now. this can't be real? he can't just remove his name?

hansol taps your shoulder and tells you to focus on the stage. you look back at the stage, realizing you completely missed seungkwans dramatic speach on how much he waited for the results etc etc.

“and so, svtct, your student council president is…..y/n!”

there's screaming in the auditorium but this place has never felt so quiet. your legs are numb and your hearing is fucked. you…won? you actually did it?

“y/n go to the stage!!” jeonghan pushes you from the crowd towards the stage. you want to say something to him. you want to apologize for winning to him but

he's smiling so wide.

his eyes are genuine. he's genuinely happy you won. “don't worry about me, my favorite cousin’s win is my win” he grabs your hand and takes you to the stage.

seungkwan helps your walk onto the stage where the teachers are standing to give you your certificate and badge. you receive it, saying a small thank you to the teachers presenting and seungkwan hands you the mic

“any words president?”

any words? what the fuck even are words? you stare at the mic then back at seungkwan. you're glad you've been friends with him for so long that even without words, understands and nods at you

“I think our president wants to save the speach for during school hours to not bore us.. well I hope my speach was dramatic enough, wonwoo I'm looking at you. there's 30 minutes till new years so till then…enjoy!” he looks at jihoon to restart the music and when it does, all the eyes on you slowly move away as seungkwan leads you to the teachers.

they all congratulate you and praise you. after a while one teacher asks

“so who's going to be your vice?”

“jeonghan” there's no hesitation in your voice. the teachers seemed shocked, a bit put off too but they don't question it. they tell you good luck and let you go back to the crowd.

you stand near the stage for a bit. letting it all sink in. all these months of work, all the effort and everything worked out. even the banter with seungcheol worked- right. seungcheol.

you run back to try and find him when eunwoo bumps into you.

“hey y/n! congratulations there's no one who deserves it more than you” he gives you a smile and pat on your shoulder.

“thanks eunwoo”

“are you guys busy” you hear seungcheol behind you and immediately turn to him.

“not busy at all man” eunwoo says and walks off, winking at seungcheol while seungcheol just looks at him disgusted.

“I never liked that guy”

“why did you remove your name”

“he's always given me a bad vibe”

“you wanted this so badly”

“and he keeps flirting with-”

“choi seungcheol answer me.”

you cut him off

“answer you? okay fine. first of all don't call me by my full name. I left presidency because frankly I hate the pressure. I never wanted to be captain anyway. I got forced into it because of my grades and extra curriculars.” he takes a pause to look around the room before continuing.

”i realized I was only doing this because it was expected of me. so I left it. I rejoined the track and badminton team. that's what was important to me before and I'm going to continue it now” he says and looks at you. a small smile playing on his lips.

you're speechless. you always knew seungcheol never really liked captaincy but you didn't know till what extent. you feel bad. you feel bad for the all “why aren't you working” and “why did they make you captain” comments you said to him.

“I'm sorry seungcheol”

“for what”

“for everything”

he smiles. you realize that you're seeing his dimples after so long. he's never smiled that much in front of you before. he looks pretty.

“10 seconds guys!” yells seungkwan into the microphone. seungcheol softly takes your hand and says

“y/n, I know you haven't forgiven me”

10

“but I have to say”

8

“I've been thinking a lot”

6

“you're too important to me”

4

“I think I like you, more than friends.”

2

“can you give me a chance?”

“happy new year!” jeonghan comes and hugs you.

you have no idea how this is going to end. you're scared, terrified of this feeling but you won't let this go. you keep your grip on seungcheols hand. slowly the student council joins the hug and the rest of your friends follow. you look around. you're surrounded by people who love you, people who care for you. what could possibly go wrong?

“yeah…I'll take the risk.”

2months later :

taglist 🔖 — (thank you to you all <3)

@minhui896 @lirtha97 @haecien @thefroggybazaar @mayashu @jeonghansshitester @wonwoos-wineparty @huening-kawaii @sp1ng @wonwootakemyheart

@ddokye @thepoopdokyeomtouched @zzenkha @nishloves @weird-bookworm @sana-is-ms-rmty @immabecreepin @amxlia-stars

@peachhiz @punkhazardlaw @lockburn-castle @asyre @luchiet @ocyeanicc @wondering-out-loud @odetoyeonjun @tamcitrus @miriamxsworld @kissesfrmwonwoo @cherr-y-eji @jeoncatsworld @youre-on-your-ownkid @addicsvt @bangantokchy @tacosandbitch @sun-daddy-yoriichi @ckline35 @rakshithanotrao @isabellah29 @mangocustard16 @lone-lone-ranger @gyuguys @writingbarnes @scarlet931 @odxrilove @wonwoobestboyy @wollycobbl3-blr

[fangirleaconmigo]

I've been thinking about this for such a long time, and here's my treatise on Our Flag Means Death and Gentlebeard just randomly on this Wednesday afternoon.

Maybe it sounds odd but OFMD perfectly illustrates how gender roles are a trap. If you fail at your gender (Stede) you are alienated from society. BUT if you succeed at your gender (Ed) you are alienated from yourself.

Here's why this creates the perfect romantic conflict.

I usually don't care for romances because the conflict feels forced, or it undermines the connection. But Ed/Stede is amazing. And I kept wondering how they captured my imagination so completely.

Well, they have a real connection, and the conflict is fascinating and credible, based on this gender trap.

Their connection is joyful and touching. Ed's delight at everything people mock Stede for, oh my god. My heart. And Stede encouraging Ed's interest in things he's not 'supposed' to have interest in? The fine fabric? Perfection. No notes. Love it.

And then the conflict is really the trauma and effects of this gender trap. They cannot see the damage the performance (or in Stede's case, the lack of ability to perform gender) is causing the other. They idealize the other because they have what the other lacks. Here's what I mean.

Since humans need connection Stede's punishment for performing gender poorly is the ultimate one-loneliness and rejection from his 'own people'. Humans cannot be alone, we are not meant to be an island, and to be rejected by EVERYONE that brings him into the world? *insert zuko's that's rough buddy gif*

But when he meets Ed, Ed only sees Stede's freedom (his incapacity to pretend he is anything but who he is) and admires and covets it.

And since Ed's success in performing his gender is a self perpetuating trap, built brick by brick on a foundation of suffocation of the self, his spirit is dying.

But Stede only sees the admiration and approval of others that he has built up around himself. He yearns for that.

So you have two people, devalued for who they are, one who can only be himself but is mocked for it, and the other who is not himself, and is drowning, but surrounded by people who admire him.

So yes, they truly see and value each other. But because they have never paid the exact kind of price the other is paying, they cannot see it. As a result, they can't see how bad those insecurities are. They can't see why the other might want a little of what they have.

I just found it absolutely incredible seeing them figure it out and find a true connection. I loved watching them build that found family around themselves. Ed had to be strong enough to be who has was with his crew, and learn to value them for who they were as well.

And Stede built a family of people around him who valued what he brings to the table. Many of those were the same people, but they had to learn to value him (after suffering Ed's approach).

I know it's a really silly show and very heightened, so you can't be too literal about everything, but it is a show with a good heart that has two romantic leads that paint an incredible picture of the two sides of the gender/society coin. It was very satisfying for me to watch their journey.

I'm sad it's cancelled but I'll be a Gentlebeard ho for life.

[sgiandubh]

The lonesome fitness girl - really?

This is a story about a nameless female fitness influencer somewhere in the world. She gives the impression of a lonely „ fighter“ in her business and in her life overall.

That is nonsense - she sells her "destiny" very skilfully. I am convinced she is not a lonely woman behind her influencer profile. But that is exactly the impression she wants to convey and she does so publicly with some success.  This is her unique selling point right now and whoever manages or advises her has recognised this very well. In other words, a narrative is created very carefully and very purposefully.  Sounds somehow familiar? 

There are thousands and thousands of fitness influencers, so it is important for everyone in this business to find the niche that generates followers, clicks and in the end it means an income. Simply performing an exercise is not enough. Every click or like on a post or a story generates a few dollars, euros or pounds in revenue.

And an increase in the number of followers by approx. 80,000-100,000 due to a connection to a famous person will raise the income as well. For the record: people like her are so called macro influencer and are a brand. That is a fact - you can find a lot more information about this in various publications by experts in business administration and marketing.

You have to attract attention, something that our nameless fitness girl has done in different ways over the years. Firstly with her partner at the time, later she created the image of a single fitness mum. And at the moment she is promoting the image of a woman who is finding her way back after an illness with a great deal of commitment and determination. 

But fitness girl was legitimately afraid of loosing her income if she was not able to work. And her body is her work. This led probably her and her team to the conclusion that she needed "visible support" at this point in order to continue operating her business model during the recovery.  And her job is being fitness model. No more and no less.

And right on time, a famous actor with a closeness to fitness programmes or probably rather his team came in. Now she seems to get into contact with his presumably more influential and well-connected fitness circles. And, purely by chance, she is building up an online fitness course. All on her own and while she looks after the rest of her business(es?) - and cares for her family. Hopefully she gets enough sleep? Probably not, which is hardly surprising considering her workload with all her duties and work obligations towards her partners. Fortunately, just like in fairy tales, there is a wonderful magic wand for this - Instagram filter.

The story really is getting better and better...

Add some well-planned (sometimes "almost") encounters at various competition venues between the two main characters.

The fitness girl, her business and her story truly seem impressive? Only if you believe in fairy tales.

Too many coincidences at once, it looks like a well established business deal, too scripted? No - just keep it simple to feed the narrative of the "lonely fitness girl"! Or is she "The girl who never sleeps"? Nobody knows for sure.

But she is most likely not the woman she pretends to be...

Dear Lonesome Fitness Girl Anon,

In an ocean of infantile, mendacious, shite-stirring Anons, your submission is absolutely STELLAR!

Whoever you are, I can tell by the ease of your logical deductions that you mean serious business and you are not easy to fool, either. Just what we happen to love, in this particular corner of this fandom.

I am totally thrilled to share with all of us this rare gem, Anon. Especially today.

You are more than welcome to hit this page anytime. It takes a pro to know a pro. Consider me a friend, Anon: you have instantly become one to me, and I bet not only to me.

Everyone, a round of applause for our unexpected guest!

[secret77778888]

LUKOLA FANDOM: The bad and the ugly

DISCLAIMER: This is LUKOLALAND only. Skip this if you're not a shipper. This is only my point of view. No harm intended

Luke

Luke has recently found himself at the center of an undeserved hate campaign. Luke is not only a talented actor but also a genuinely kind and down-to-earth person. Those who know him personally often speak highly of his warmth, and strong work ethic. His colleagues frequently commend his positive attitude on set, his dedication to his craft, and his ability to bring a nuanced, relatable charm to his characters.

Despite this, Luke has been unfairly criticized for a range of baseless reasons. One of the most prominent accusations involves "Papgate," where he was allegedly involved in a publicity stunt that some claim detracted from the show's success. However, it's important to recognize that Luke has always been committed to the success of Bridgerton. As a professional, he understands the importance of the show's reputation and would never intentionally jeopardize it. A professional PR team would never have advised Luke to engage in such a stunt, especially given that there was no pressing need or benefit in doing so, after all, the hard launch has yet to occur. It's clear that Luke genuinely admires his good pal Nicola and values their relationship too much to have intentionally ruined their night. The lack of evidence to support these accusations further highlights the unfair nature of this criticism. His hard work and talent should be celebrated, not overshadowed by baseless accusations.

Another point of contention has been Luke's personal life, with some fans unfairly speculating and judging his choices. However, Luke, like anyone, has the right to live his life privately and without undue scrutiny. We might raise an eyebrow at some of Luke's associations and choices, but that's something we can ponder in the privacy of our Lukolaland without spreading negativity. Luke wasn’t jobless; he was taking a well-deserved vacation after months of hard work with his friends before returning to work in August, just like many do. There's nothing out of the ordinary here. It’s important to remember that we don’t have all the details, so we shouldn’t be quick to judge without knowing the full story. I trust that both Luke and Nicola will navigate this situation wisely and come through just fine. He has conducted himself with integrity, and the assumptions made about his relationships are purely speculative and often harmful. It’s wrong to attack him, his family and friends.

Luke Newton is a promising young actor with a bright future ahead of him. Beyond his undeniable talent, he is known for his kindness, and humility. Luke has always been a good-looking guy, though attraction is subjective. If he’s not your type, that’s fine, but many others do find him attractive, and it doesn’t make sense to broadcast your disinterest across Lukolaland. If you’re not a fan, simply move on without trying to ruin it for others. What truly matters is the work he’s done. Luke plays Colin with skill, bringing depth, relevance, and nuance to the role, with a performance that is both detailed and deeply empathetic. If his performance wasn’t to your taste, feel free to critique it constructively, but keep the focus on his acting. Luke is talented, passionate, and generous, and those who know him appreciate and love him for that. Even his Barbie, I mean-his costar, Nicola has nothing but kind words to say about him. While fans may have opinions, it is important to approach these with empathy and respect, rather than extending unwarranted criticism.

Nicola

I've come across articles and comments that unfairly critique Nicola’s appearance, suggesting she isn’t attractive enough due to her so-called "average" or "oversized" body. The only thing average about her body is that it fits an average size. Let's set the record straight: Nicola is neither fat nor skinny, she’s simply herself. And let's stop equating body size with beauty. Fat people can be stunning, just as skinny people can be less so; it's a fact of life. To claim she doesn't meet certain standards of beauty is not only incorrect but downright absurd. Have you seen her? She is a definition of beauty, both inside and out. Her radiance is undeniable, fitting most conventional beauty standards effortlessly with her baby blue eyes. She embodies all the qualities we value collectively in terms of feminine beauty and her body is a Roman empire.

While you might not personally be attracted to her, that view is far from the majority. Nicola outshines 99% of the population, and among the remaining 1%, she’s in the top tier, thanks to the beauty that comes from within. Her intelligence, brightness, and wisdom add to her allure, making her truly captivating. It's absurd to claim that Luke isn't attracted to Nicola simply because she doesn't fit someone's narrow idea of "his type." Attraction is highly personal and goes far beyond superficial traits. Luke and Nicola share an evident deep connection that likely transcends physical appearance, focusing more on personality, shared values, and mutual respect. Moreover, the idea that Luke wouldn’t be attracted to someone as radiant, talented, and charming as Nicola is equally baseless, if anything, she embodies qualities that many find irresistibly attractive. And we have no definitive idea of what "his type" is as both of his exes looked different and the only trait that they have in common is that they’re attractive talented genuine and kind women who are actresses; Its therefore not wrong to assume that Nicola could fit that description and not the contrary. Just as some may assume Nicola isn't his type, the reverse could be just as true, maybe she is not attracted to tall, dark and handsome men with a remarkable shade of blue eyes, which only underscores how irrelevant these superficial judgments are. Nicola is human, at least I think that she is, and like all of us, she might make mistakes. But unlike many, she is thoughtful and deliberate in her life choices. Nicola has every right to choose her own partner, and while we may wish otherwise, that decision is hers alone. She’s independent and career-driven, and she’s certainly not desperately waiting around for just anyone, only for the one who truly makes a difference in her life. That’s likely why she hasn’t publicly claimed anyone yet. Thankfully, we can trust her judgment, as she knows best who brings happiness and adds value to her life.

Tifaine

Within the Lukola fandom, some creators have been unfairly attacked for their dedication and hard work. Tifaine, in particular, has faced criticism despite her contributions to the community. While it may seem unusual to outsiders that grown people dedicate so much time to shipping real people, it is essential to understand that this community is built on love and admiration, not harm. The only people who have the right to criticize this are Luke and Nicola themselves, and they have expressed appreciation for the support they receive from fans. If Nicola or Luke ever express discomfort or a desire to reassess those boundaries, most of us would comply or, would stop because, contrary to popular belief, we are functioning adults with full lives.

Tifaine's work in the fandom has been invaluable, and while disagreements may arise, it is important to recognize the effort and passion she brings to the community.She has certainly sacrificed time, money for the cause and she puts herself out there which attracts a lot of negativity. Based on my understanding, she was merely presenting facts mostly well-known and non-detrimental ones that do not undermine what’s happening between the two leads. She has consistently shown that she cares deeply for both of them and genuinely wishes for their success, whether individually or together. I trust her intentions and appreciate the significant effort she has put into her work, which is far from negligible. Her dedication is commendable, and her contributions have helped create a space where fans can come together to celebrate the love and success of Luke and Nicola.

In conclusion, I believe that the recent wave of negativity in the community is both unwarranted and harmful and frankly quite counterproductive. And if none of them is above criticism, it is crucial to remember that behind the screens they are real people deserving of respect and kindness. As fans, our role should be to support and uplift, not tear down. By fostering a community built on love and understanding, we can ensure that the fandom remains a positive and welcoming space.

[jabberwondia]

【the next step】 【part 2】 RIDDLE x READER, NSFW

Part 1 is here.

The proverbial "next time".

Riddle Rosehearts x Female Reader, 18+. Fluff, sexual intimacy (explicit), consensual.

Worrying about failing a test, botching that one high note at the recital, or stammering throughout the graduation speech are all examples of performance anxiety. The thought of failing and the looming overshadow it casts on the far-off dream of success – to a lot of people, it can be paralyzing. To counter it, you dwell on all the possibilities before that something can even come to pass, methodically going through worst-case scenarios in your head; at the time, they all seem more like prophecies.

Contrary to what his occasionally fiery mood swings might suggest, Riddle Rosehearts was a fairly confident and composed person, and never suffered from nerves before a test, recital or speech. The roots of his self-assurance were practice, diligence and rules. No test would ever be scary if you had revised hard enough, no note unreachable if practiced frequently enough, and no speech impossible if rehearsed enough. Rules provided a frame which allowed little flexibility, which meant more provable, safe results.

This, however, was different. There was no way to prepare for it. Any guides on the subject would generally say, ‘Let it flow’, and honestly that’s what he believed he had done -or at least tried to do- last time, when you were catching your breath, spread on top of his lap. He had purposefully, repeatedly, attempted to forget all about it – but every time his phone buzzed with one of your messages, he was sorely reminded of everything he did, and specially of what he didn’t do.

‘Would it be so bad if it were... planned?’ he pondered. But it’s not like those words would ever leave his mouth, and he truly did care about you, so he was not about to insult your integrity by suggesting something as unrefined as “Hey baby, let’s get it on”.

Sigh. It hardly seemed like the topic you could trust friends with, either. “What should I do?” he wanted to ask, but the fear of getting humiliated in return was too real. Or at least, it was inside Riddle’s head, as however certain he could be in social situations, one of his most recurring nightmares included screwing up an easy spell, getting laughed at, then yelled at by his mother, and, finally, falling through the void (in that order).

“Next time,” he had told Floyd. Why did he do that? Whatever the hell did that mean? Not unlike enlisting New Year resolutions and telling everyone you started working out – in a way, the contract behind your words binds you to turn them into action. Riddle really wish he hadn’t, and to be fair, Floyd hadn’t even asked about it since – but the thought alone was eating away at him.

Alone in his room, he had, at long last, drafted up the end-all, be-all of text-based conversation.

Riddle Rosehearts: “Hello! 🌹 What are you doing for the break? I’ll pass on going home this time, I think. We can expect an exceptionally hot summer this year, and I’m worried about the hedgehogs.”

And then, greatly contingent on your answer, but – hopefully – the next sentence would be:

“If you’re free sometime, would you like to stay the night?”

‘Stay the night’ was a much more suitable euphemism for what he wanted to say. It was short, and sweet, and left the possibility of nothing happening, which was important. The main problem with it is that it broke quite a few rules, but most notoriously: the rules that stated students from other schools were not allowed inside the dorms past curfew, and that non-alumni needed a special permission to enter in the first place. Well, uh, and also the fact that he was trying to bring a girl to sleepover to an all-boys school. After one law had been violated, the rest of transgressions just seemed like silly, collateral damage. This is why he was a stickler for codes and regulations – being unyielding did, in fact, protect the system from falling apart all at once.

The hedgehog excuse also worked well, and even his mother had believed it and granted him permission to stay all summer on campus.

The first text is an easy one to send. If, for any reason, Riddle feels like he needs to call the whole thing off, he can just invite you to a Tea Party, or suggest a date in the park. The break begins next weekend, and it’s a perfect time because the school will be mostly empty and free of prying eyes. And if you are too busy to catch up, spending a quiet summer caring for the hedgehogs doesn’t sound too bad either.

Y/N: “oh hey! 😊 poor darlings🦔 it’s good they have a very kind caretaker💓 yeah, I read somewhere we were reaching record temperatures. thankfully it’s not so bad inside our dorm. i’ll go home, but only from the second week onwards”

Which leaves a week in between to... to...

Riddle opens up his drafts once again. All he has to do is copy, paste and hope for the best. But as he’s proof-reading, it occurs to him that maybe “sleepover” is better than “stay the night” – which one sounds more casual? Ugh, his hands are starting to feel icy cold and unresponsive. The weight on his chest is getting bigger.

Y/N: “we should meet up before I leave! 😊 i can help take care of the hedgehogs if you need a hand?"

Oh my Queen. A second, continuous text from you was not in the original plan. So now what? Well, he could still brave through and –ahem– suggest his suggestion. Hell, if he was so paralyzed at a text, there’s no way he could actually sleep with you, even if you did come over.

Riddle does not want you to help take care of the hedgehogs. Or rather, that is so trivial right now, that he wishes you could forget about it, and words to be undone.

Riddle Rosehearts: “I couldn’t possibly ask that! Hedgehogs are nocturnal, so you’d have to come in pretty late.”

Riddle is quick to type and send, but then gasps when he realizes the meaning. It can be taken two ways: either that he wants you to come in late, ergo, wants to get in your pants and is cowardly suggesting it; or he does not want you anywhere near the dorm at night, which, eh, kind of resets all the progress made in this conversation.

Y/N: “oh, right 😊 the school has rules against that, lol”

It’s getting more and more impossible to recover from this, like a rowing boat trying to maneuver through a river of chocolate fudge.

The draft that is waiting in his copy clipboard now makes no sense. “If you’re free sometime, would you like to stay the night?” is no longer applicable to this flow of the conversation. But he needs to find a way around it, or else it’s back to square one.

Riddle takes a very, very deep breath. Face red, fingers trembling, he manages to write:

Riddle Rosehearts: “Actually, don’t worry about the hedgehogs. It takes time to build trust with them anyways. But on that note, would you like to stay over sometime? Feel free to say no.”

That last part sounds incredibly weak and lacking in courage. He erases it and types it again a couple of times until deciding in favor of leaving it as-is – the fact that you don’t feel pressured is, after all, of utmost importance to him.

And yeah, “stay over” sounds better than sleeping or staying the night, so let’s stick to that.

When the message pops on your side of the screen, your sight paces back and forth at least twenty times, doubting the verity of your own eyes or reading comprehension. After last time, and how nonchalantly it had ended, you thought for sure that Riddle had been distancing himself from you, and that you had crossed a boundary that was hard to backtrack from. That is exactly why, truth be told, you were relieved when he initiated casual conversation as if nothing had happened. The struggle was mixing all these pure, affectionate, innocent emotions he made you feel with the raw Eros of whatever last study session was, and it had left you more confused than ever.

But hey, you tell yourself. Nothing needs to happen. I can just sleep. We can cuddle, and that’s it.

It seems you are taking all too long to answer, because his chat box pops up again.

Riddle Rosehearts: “I want to see you.”

Riddle was really good in situations reigned by protocol. He was the best social dancer you’d ever seen, and the way he’d guided you while waltzing through an interscholastic dance had been dreamlike. He’d open doors for you and escort you to your school gates; he was always eager to send over a study guide or offer some academic advice. But “I want to see you” and “I miss you” were words rarely uttered.

Filled with a newfound courage, you text back:

Y/N: “i'd love to! is friday ok? 😊”

Getting into Heartslabyul is always a challenge. You’d need to either come over during the daytime and then purposefully miss curfew, or you’d have to find a way to sneak in just before the gates are closed for the night. As a housewarden from a rival school, your face is somewhat known within the Night Raven College students, and while it’s not exactly a secret that you’re dating the Heartslabyul sovereign, you’d rather if people did not know you were planning on staying the night, for the Seven’s sakes!

If this were an eventful holiday, like Halloween celebrations or a friendly Spelldrive tournament, inter-school visits were more easily forgivable. There were plenty of ways to score a guest pass and walk around freely. But an outsider going around the dorm at night, on a normal school day? Now, that is just fishy.

You devised a plan of which the success depended on how fast Riddle could find you and then rush to his room. And you know he hated running in the hallways.

Your Signature Spell, “Drink Me”, as tongue-in-cheek as it sounded, allowed you to change an object or person in size for a very small period of time. Theoretically, if this was used on yourself and your clothes, you could become hedgehog-sized in seconds. And then, all would Riddle need to do is transport you in his shirt pocket. Simple enough, right?

As you head through the motions of the plan, you realize how utterly embarrassing it is. First, you would need to decide on a set of coordinates where Riddle would find your miniaturized self. He needs to pick you up, basically engulfing you with both hands. You are then to fit inside his pocket, and this meant that his heartbeat would sound like thunderstorms in the summer sky (a by-product of you being so small). And because you’d turn back in 5 minutes, he needs to rush to his room and take you out of the pocket, lest you grow back to normal and rip his prized uniform shirt apart.

There could be some repercussions. Usually, your Signature Spell required of a catalyst – you would use homemade soda for the shrinking spell and cookies for the enlarging spell – so as to keep the side effects at bay, and make the desired transformation last longer (a maximum of an hour). Very rarely you’d cast them directly from your pen to the object in question, unless you wanted or needed consequences to be more immediate and short-lived. In this case, staying small for a whole hour was not exactly the most enticing of options, and gorging on enlarging cookies while the effects of the fizzy shrinking drink hadn’t yet subsided always resulted in nausea, an upset stomach and a fever (you know – you’ve tried before). So, the only viable option was cast and run: a plan problematic in and of itself, but the only chance you had to access the property unnoticed. Ah, if only Chen’ya could teach you how to disappear at will.

When you suggested all of this over the phone, Riddle was flabbergasted. It was hard to tell which is more mortifying – carrying you around like a portable magic pen, or having you enter the dorm life-size and risk a student seeing you enter his room at night.

Eventually, after much persuasion, he had agreed to meet you at the outskirts of the Heartslabyul forest, which was exactly five minutes away from his quarters.

It’s the first meeting since the, uh, lap-sitting incident, and you are both quite self-conscious still. You wave and smile at his approaching figure, but he hurriedly hushes, “Quick! Before anyone sees you.”

Pointing a shaky pen to your chest, you take a deep breath. “Here goes. Drink Me!”

If the feeling could be compared to anything, you’d say it kind of reminds you of a balloon deflating – air gushing out, spiraling as it swirls until it reaches the floor. A kaleidoscope in which the senses become filled all at once, as the world around you is so big, and you’re now so small. The only good part is that, because your height and weight also decrease in proportion, having a parasol ready allows you to float tenderly for the last couple of inches, and the fall is never too abrupt.

Riddle is now... huge. I mean, wow there, Y/N, witty observation. But he really is, and even the act of him crouching to get closer to you shakes the whole ground like an earthquake. He stares at you, two fingers pressed on his lips, pondering if he should lift you up by the collar... but no, no, that’s too ungracious.

So, he offers the palm of his hand. You know that even if you talked at this size, your tiny micro lungs are not enough to produce enough sound to reach him properly, so you keep quiet and climb up his thumb.

When Riddle brings you up to the height of his pocket, it’s like that one Twisneyland attraction that you rode together once, the scary one with the elevator which you had hated with every fiber of your heart as you held on to your boyfriend’s arm screaming – and he wasn’t too keen on thrill rides, either, but had tried to put on a brave face for your sake.

“Are you alright?” he beckons, in a normal tone for him, but it’s like a cacophony ripping apart at your miniature eardrums. You put your hands over your ears. “—sorry! So sorry,” he reduces his voice to a whisper.

Plopping yourself into the pocket, you fall all the way in, roughly reaching the middle while standing straight. You are way smaller than hedgehog size at this point, comparable to a miniature doll of only a few centimeters high. “Hang in there,” he says.

By the sudden swaying, like a seism about to tear the face of the Earth, you assume that Riddle has set course for his room. The countdown starts.

As luck would have it, everyone and their mother is out to get the Headwarden today. He gets stopped at least thrice, mostly about silly stuff such as the shipment for flamingo food or the rundown for the next unbirthday party. It’s impressive how many students are still in the dorm, really –don’t these people have anything else better to do?– their voices are so loud you can barely make out the conversations, instead just catching the keywords. You have both hands pressed against your ears, eyes closed, trying to avoid sensory overload. At least this goes to show there is no way you could have gotten into Heartslabyul unnoticed if you were your proper size.

After many unwanted interruptions, time was running out for the both of you. The de-transformation would start coming in little bursts, where you’d feel your body a little bigger each time. The transpired, stuffy white fabric of that pocket was sure starting to feel a little tight, and now you could almost peek over the hem on your tiptoes.

“Riddle!” is your hurried plead, but he’s going as fast as humanly possible, as fast as anyone can go while still avoiding attention.

When he’s at the doorstep, it feels the seams won’t hold any longer. To the best of your ability, you lift yourself using your arms, trying to squeeze up and out. He fumbles with the key, breath visibly agitated, until he remembers he can just use magic, and can finally, triumphantly, open the door and slam it shut.

“Y/N!” he beckons, in a panic, looking for you to jump on his palm again so he can plop you onto the ground.

“No time! Throw me on the bed!” you squeak, unsure of how much of your speech is currently intelligible. Riddle catches the gist of it, and grabs you by the first thing he can pinch, which is the hem of your skirt, as you’re now dangling outside his pocket, barely not small enough to fit back in.

And next thing you know, he is flinging you like a Spelldrive disk towards his bed; with a loud “poof”, you transform mid-air and land headfirst, full size, cartwheeling on his mattress. Your skirt is flung open, you’ve lost both shoes somewhere along the way, you’re all tangled in on yourself, but at least you are finally safe, and neither Riddle’s shirt nor reputation have been ruined.

Adjusting your sitting position, you first make sure all parts have grown back to size. After all, it’s not unheard of for the effect to last longer on some objects or body parts than others. A quick check assures you that you’re back to normal – all over, that is. You turn to Riddle, who is watching you from the edge of the bed, hand over his mouth, his expression between bemusement and bewilderment.

A stifled laugh that you can’t seem to contain breaks the silence, and it’s like springing open a can of worms, because the redhead giggles a little, too, and then the whole situation becomes too funny to hold it in. Soon he’s laughing tears out of his eyes, unable to speak in full sentences.

“You — you really became pocket size. Right here! You were right here!” He gasps for air between chuckles, pointing at his chest pocket. “I can’t believe... really can’t... ahaha!”

“Hehe, that was some adventure,” you agree. And it’s not like you’re not laughing yourself, but your turn to your boyfriend, and the sight of him fills your chest with a strange warmth, so much that it quiets your laughter. You’d rarely ever seen such a playful, childlike expression; he keeps cry-laughing uncontrollably, wiping his eyes and clutching at his stomach; a hint of relaxation in his ever-so-stiff posture.

His giggle fit starts settling down, and then it dawns on you.

“Oh, no, we need to go through this exact same process tomorrow!” you say, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Tomorrow. He liked the sound of that. It made the fact that you’re staying over more official.

“We’ll think of something by then,” he states.

The rush to close the door and prop you out of the pocket as fast as possible meant that the room was still dim. Because you had landed on his bed, there you were sitting upright in its dead center; suddenly feeling a rush of pink on your cheeks, as the whole Drink Me situation had acted as a deterrent to the actual elephant in the room: the fact that you were here to sleep over and that you had both been so nervous up until that point.

Riddle’s bleary eyes flicker in the twilight, still a soft smile on his lips.

“That was nice,” you grin. “It’d been a while since I last saw you laugh.”

“Oh, come now. Am I really that serious all the time?”

You struggle to find the words. “It’s like... like you’re always worried about something. Not that I blame you—"

“Huh,” he retorts before you can continue. “Well, even I can find something that tickles my funny bone, every now and then.”

He’s now frowning and pouting and just... standing there, as if still hesitant to join you in bed. After all, Riddle was quick to notice that you had made no effort to stand up, and now is wondering what the next step is. It’s not like he had planned any activities for you to do that night – maybe watching a movie on your phones? ...playing card games? Or just go straight to sleep? In the end, he could decide on none and the Day Of came to happen before he could devise a plan, something he dreaded from the bottom of his heart. His whole life was set in rules, set in stone tablets, and now he had to somehow improvise.

“I’m not worried,” he says, pensive, then adds: “Not when I’m with you, at least.”

“Liar,” you accuse him, to which he looks rather offended, albeit playfully so. “By now, you’re probably thinking, ‘What’s comes next?’ — well, aren’t you?”

His expression gives him away immediately. For such a well-postured, well-mannered person, Riddle tends to be a bit transparent. “H-how did you –”

“—it’s because I’m thinking the same thing, too,” you admit. “This is hard, isn’t it?”

It’s not a question. In no unclear terms, last time you’d met had been the very first instance of feeling each other’s bodies, and along came the realization that you are dating and it’s perfectly okay for you to do so. And now you’re subconsciously running your fingers through his velvety red, quilted duvet; and Riddle is still paralyzed a few steps away from the bed. You are not the boldest person out there; and he seems to be bold for anything except for this.

“Agreed,” he muses. Again, he’s like on the outside looking in – it’s that anxious feeling that never goes away, back to the little boy and the cakes he’d never eat.

“This is so awkward to say out loud,” you muster up some courage. “But I’ll try.”

“—yes?”

“I don’t care what we do today. I get to be with you, and that’s enough.”

...oh. Riddle can feel his heart doing a summersault. Being filled to the brim with love like this is something he is not accustomed to. It’s like he’s back to your warm embrace and the rhythmic breathing of your clothed chest, like digging his fingers in your back again, and feeling you return the squeeze. Every single waking moment, and hell, even while sleeping, he goes back to that evening. But he struggles to return your words, hesitant and meditative, staring at the floor.

“Riddle?”

“—yes?”

“Are you okay?”

He’s not. He’s fed up with himself. Scared of this new situation to which he doesn’t have a manual for. Terrified of underperforming and disheartening you.

“Of course,” he lies through his teeth. You are still fully clothed, so all he can see are your knees and calves, from where the skirt of your uniform ends and the socks begin. It’s not remotely erotic at all, yet he’s burning all over. You notice his eyes traveling up and down, trying to take the sight of you in.

You can’t be sure, but deep inside, you intuited that if you both feel the same, then he wants it as much as you do. But then again, pressuring your boyfriend is something you would never, ever venture to do – like a hedgehog himself, he was always quick to spike up to prevent you from poking at his vulnerability. He’d get angry or annoyed or sulky, only to quickly apologize later. So, you are not brave enough to ask, but the least you can do is initiate the scene – like the character that utters the first lines in a play, setting the mood and the proceeds in motion.

Hands, your own, travel to the elastic on your socks, as you slide them off slowly, one by one. Your feet get adjusted to the soft duvet, now feeling it on your bare skin, and you can’t help but notice how utterly cold your toes are – might be from the air conditioning, might be from the nerves. Riddle gasps audibly and clutches at his chest.

You look up at him, as he’s still standing immobilized in his spot. Fine. You’ll venture one more step past the proverbial line of his defenses, then.

Not unlike his, your school uniform consists of a white shirt with a tie or ribbon, at the student’s free choice of whichever. The ribbon on your neck is striped light blue and white, with a small coat of arms applique that depicts a teacup floating in a bottle full of tears. With a quick tug, you undo it, then the first button of your collar, all while keeping eye contact with your boyfriend – it feels like the sound of your own heartbeat is going to deafen you at this point.

Riddle takes a step in your direction, fully flushed, although you can barely tell through the room submerged in the summer dusk. But he stops just by the edge of the bed, frozen again. His is quite the big mattress, and he will need to crawl to you if he wants to reach you. Close, yet so far.

You press your lips together, at the attempt to regain some moisture: your mouth feels dry and trembling all over. Even so, you use the last bit of courage to undo one more button – completely innocuous, as this barely only reveals your collarbone.

“Stop,” he beckons, scaring you for a second. Seeming so desperate, filled with regret. “Don’t.”

“Oh.” Maybe it had been too much? You dread having pushed the Heartslabyul warden too far. “I’m sorry—”

“—no.” He takes a deep breath. “I mean, let me do it.”

Riddle climbs into the bed, knee first. His hand is reaching for your face, slate grey eyes full of adoration, and in turn, you unbalance him by pulling at both his arms, so he stumbles on top of you. Bumping heads at the fall, now faces only an inch away.

“Riddle—”

“—shh. Quit staring.”

But you’re not really, as your eyelids are drooping over, lost in the moment. It doesn’t matter, though. It’s so like him to want to have the last word.

As usual, it’s a peck on the lips, albeit a bit longer and hungrier; he then kisses your cheek, and now the question is what comes next and how the familiar pattern will be broken. To your surprise, you feel two nibbles on your neck, just below your jaw at first and then close to your throat. One leg has snuck in between yours, pressing slightly, the weight of his bony hips digging into your thigh.

He’s always fixing other students’ uniforms, so maybe that’s where it comes from, but he has unexpected skill in unbuttoning your shirt all the way through. But he’s taking it slow and steady, because every single new flash of skin is just killing him on the inside, building up fire within.

Pushing up with one arm, he uses the other to take your hand and give it a kiss, then a tug as he prods you to turn around, softly undressing one sleeve, and reaching for the clasp of your brassiere. Is this too sudden? He’s filled with worry, but push comes to shove, and his instincts urge him to keep going. He needs both hands to do this, causing him to promptly level forward, his mouth caressing your naked shoulder plates. And with one quick snap, you’re out of your bra, though it still lingers lazily on top of your breasts, as you adjust on your back once more.

Riddle realizes – he can almost peek – y-you’re half-naked, writhing beneath him, and –

“—hey,” you call softly, smiling with a tint of self-consciousness as you reach a hand for his cheek. “C-can I...?”

Can I take your clothes off, too? – is what you mean to say, but the words can’t seem to leave your mouth. Curses. Leaving the question unasked, you tug at his striped necktie, and his fingers follow yours, together undoing his shirt buttons all the way to his waist. He’s using a white, paper-thin t-shirt underneath, so you can make the shape of his nipples through it. More lightly clothed than ever, the sudden rush of shame gets the best out of you, and your gut reaction is to pull him into a full embrace, arms clasped around his neck.

Riddle stops for a moment, melting into your hold. You cannot see eye to eye right now, but you can clearly hear each other’s heartbeat. After a moment of hesitation, he kisses you again. It’s sloppy and uncharacteristic of him, but he wants to eat you whole and has no way of hiding it. Uncertain, his hand travels down your neck, feeling your collarbone, and hovering for a few instants where your bra is – unbound, it is no more than a decoration on top of your chest, and he pushes it aside.

“Ah,” he exclaims, almost unwillingly. Your breasts are oscillating up and down with your breathing, your lips are swollen and dyed a madder red, and you just look so beautiful.

“Now you quit staring,” you snap back.

“Hah,” he laughs raspingly. “Who do you think you’re talking to? You’ve got some nerve.”

You smile so wide your cheeks hurt, glad that he’s finally back to his normal self, setting aside all the anxiety and worry. Well, mostly. Of course, some worries are still in the way, but they continue melting as the heat rises – it’s impossible not to give into the moment and fondle your breasts. You let out a little yelp.

“Ah – does it hurt?” he frowns, worried, unable to gauge your reaction. Sure, he made a point to read a few erotic novels in an attempt to prepare for what should be expected for this situation –ugh, perish the thought of anyone finding those hidden at the bottom of his drawer– but truth be told, he still had no idea how rough or how gentle he should be.

“No,” you assured. “It feels good.”

“Show me where.”

At his request, you guide his hand with yours, back to your chest; and strengthen your grip, instructing him to squeeze ever so slightly. His leg, or rather, his knee presses against you, separating your legs further apart, sending a wave of electricity throughout your body. The goddamned skirt is still in the way, but you can’t muster up enough lucidity to concentrate and remove it, moaning and twitching below him.

Riddle must have read your mind, because he shifts his hands to the zipper on your skirt instead, and his mouth starts moving down and away from your neck. Your first reflex –completely involuntary, mind you– is to cross your arms and cover up your breasts, as if it made any difference at this point. His eyes move up to yours, worried again.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” –well, now you’re making less sense than the Queen’s Twinkle Twinkle Little Bat poem– “It’s just... ah...”

He understands. Neither of you want it to end, and yet moving forward is just as scary. Before this, when you first started dating, he used to be able to listen to his inside voice when he kissed you. Or rather, he was forced to listen to it, by his own brain – like a switch you can’t turn off, he’d count the number of kisses and always follow the same pattern. His head was constantly yapping at him, keeping track of time so as to not be late for the 5 PM tea, or telling him to compulsively fix your uniform. But since he had climbed on top of you ten minutes earlier, he has not heard his inner voice, not even once. He could not keep count of how many kisses and nibbles he’d placed all over your collarbone, shoulders, inner elbows and wrists; softly motioning you to let go and uncross your arms. And the sheer fact of losing control was terrifying, yet it felt so good.

That being said, when faced with your bare chest, and the zipper on your skirt lowered but still not removed, Riddle feels a flash of clarity and stops dead on his tracks. There she is, the girl he loves, half-dressed, gorgeous, breasts perking up, but there is one thing that doesn’t quite feel right.

“Come here.” He props you up, helping you sit. He moves the hair off your face and pats your head. “I’ll– I’ll take off the rest of my clothes, too.”

It’s not as embarrassing if it’s the two of you, is his reasoning. And it was important for him that this wasn’t one-sided.

“—you wha– you will?” Not at your brightest nor most eloquent, you’re taken aback by his sudden assertiveness, again crossing your arms in front of your chest. He’s halfway through the zipper of his black school pants when he stops to look at you, face fully flushed.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he mumbles guiltily, his delivery harshly contrasting with his words. “You know I hate that.” Feigning authority and playful anger, part of him is trying to be a tease, yet still unsure how.

A giggle escapes your lips. “Shame you’re not wearing the dorm uniform today.”

“—ah.” He notices in that same moment. Had he been so nervous he completely mixed up his clothes today? As the last layers were coming off and he was sitting there in his underwear, he realized it didn’t matter.

“Wait, what is it about the dorm uniform?”

“Heh. Just – the heels,” you blurt out. “They’re kind of... –ah, I’m not gonna say it.”

The idle talk is not important. All you can focus on is how his porcelain skin contrasts with the crimson quilting, and he’s blushing head to toe, like a white rose poorly stained with red paint. Actually, you meant to say the heels turned you on (come on, admit it, just a little?), but halfway through the sentence you noticed you could not be any more aroused, and then he fell on top of you again, and your head emptied completely of thoughts. His hand now presses between your legs, and you wonder where your skirt went – it had been on you just a second before, right?

“Riddle,” you gasp, knowing the fabric of your underwear is betraying you and giving away how wet you are. You have no doubt he can feel it too. And he wishes you wouldn’t call his name, not like that – do you have any idea what you’re doing to him? His fingers are caressing you softly, and it truly feels like you might burst even though you’re just getting started. His face is close to yours, jaw shivering in a cold sweat, even though it feels like there must be a hundred degrees in the darkness of the room. And while he’s helping your orgasm build up, thumb toying with you gently, he can’t help but wonder if your skin feels just as good to the direct touch as it feels through your panties, and how is it that even the parts of you he never knew are all so perfect. It seems slightly unfair, he muses, that you could be this flawless without even trying – but then you wince a little, possibly lost in pleasure, and Riddle starts worrying again.

“Are you okay?” his words feel moist close to your ear.

“Hm-mm.”

“Relax your arms.”

And the second you do, he moves back down again, slobbering kisses all over your neck and chest. While seemingly rawer and more animal than ever, he’s still attentively measuring your reactions, and finds you gasp the loudest when he sucks on your breasts. So, he teases them for a while, circling slowly with his tongue, then softly and toothlessly pinching the stiff center with his lips; he repeats from left breast to right, slowly, deliberately, back and forth, with a sort of rhythmic cadence. Focus, Riddle reminds himself, as his own erection is throbbing painfully. But he’s determined to devote to you first and foremost.

“May I–”

“Yes. Please,” you beg, not even sure what you are agreeing to, but realizing it might as well not matter anymore.

Struggling to open your eyes, you force yourself into keeping alert just so you can take in the view of your raggedly breathing boyfriend, peeking up from the curves between your breasts, hand on the inside of your underwear and soaking his slender fingers inside, applying even pressure. He is amused at the sight of how effortlessly they go in and out, assisted by your moisture, so much so that he forgets about your breasts for a moment. Your voice brings his attention back, however.

“I – I can’t...”

“It’s okay. Don’t hold it in”, he reassures, but maybe he is also talking to himself, as Riddle is always the type to exceed in self-restraint. You are melting, becoming undone with a touch of his hand and he cannot get enough of how it feels – to hear you panting and moaning, to know he will soon be able to press inside you and fill you with his length. It’s an unfamiliar, weird, wonderful thing – not quite like he had imagined, but perfect all the same. Your chest is responsive to his every kiss, and now his fingers have gotten faster and heavier. He can feel you close and is living for it.

“Riddle, I –”

“You’re so beautiful,” he gasps breathily, finally able to be honest with himself. “Don’t hold back. It’s all right.”

“Riddle. Riddle? I’m – I ––”

“––Y/N,” he chuckles, and his touch becomes even more merciless. Your hard nipples cannot possibly take any more kisses. “You’re so adorable.”

It’s not like you need any more stimulation, but as he says this, his mouth is full of one breast and hand cupping the other, and you can clearly see it all, from his heavy-lidded slate grey eyes to his dark red eyelashes, all focused on you as he’s making your sex squeak with wet sounds, pushing down just underneath your navel as his fingers throb and sting inside you.

“Please. Don’t stop.”

He won’t. He’s not the type to tease you like that. Your toes are curling in a frenzy as your legs swing inevitably open, and pretty soon you’re incoherently giving into the thrusting of his hand, and his lips have not left your breasts for one second.

You can’t hold it in. You would have if you could have – the sensation was just too amazing, and you were trying to grasp at straws –literally, if by straws you mean sinking your nails into his shoulders– trying to prolong your orgasm to no avail. You are coming all over, spasming and stirring and gasping his name, and Riddle is a bit scared at first – did he – did he do that? – but it seems you are content, and you settle down huffing beneath him. He takes out his fingers, but his hand stays put, pushing on you softly, as you are still whimpering with the aftershocks that come and go after the peak.

Riddle knows what is supposed to come after that, but the thought alone makes his stomach do cartwheels. Now, how to initiate? He doesn’t have time to think, as you grab him by the wrist, taking his hand out of your underwear and giving it a tug, motioning him to come closer. In your current clouded state, it’s hard of you to completely gain enough strength to pin him down as you originally had wanted to, so you settle to have him sit beside you as you roll over so that your upper body meets his crotch.

“Y/N?” he yelps, suddenly self-aware of how flush his length is against the fabric of his boxers, throbbing to come out, and your face is now caressing it softly with only one layer to separate you.

“Ah. Sorry. Too fast?”

He shakes his head.

“No. Actually,” he pushes his underwear down. “Please. Can you –”

He needn’t ask. The sensation of him in your mouth compelled such novelty – it was weird to get used to, but at the same time felt like the natural next step to take. Tip reddened and throbbing, teased by your lips as your hands would steady his thighs. Funny how something so intense – suckling at him, gasping for jagged breaths, as the bitter taste of his precum numbs your other senses – would come apparent to you so matter-of-factly, unrehearsed yet perfectly calculated. Riddle stifles moans until he can’t anymore, pouring from his lips, buckling into you with hand tangled in your hair, pulling you closer.

He’s no longer thinking straight, and that’s fine. If he were, he’d still be stuck in the preparation phase, staring mindlessly at the welt of your socks, unable to move. But since he’s no longer counting the kisses he’s given you tonight, he’ll make a point of also not counting how many times he’ll thrust into you, as he topples you over when the wetness of your mouth just won’t quite scratch that itch, and hurriedly reaches over the counter for a condom. It’s not like the guilt is completely done, but this – this is everything right now, and as you are huffing and puffing away below him, eager to receive him, he understands that a bit of chaos is needed every once in a while.

A lot of first times are awkward. This might be no exception. But he enters you with such ease, you wonder how this new feeling can be so recognizable, as the pressure builds between your legs and his hipbones dig into you once again, and he restrains your hands with his, raising your arms, soft eyes filled with lust.

“So tight...” Riddle whispers, but it’s more like sounds are escaping him, uncontrolled, “Y/N... y-you’re...”

His speech is barely intelligible, though you can sometimes make out words – ‘beautiful’, ‘good’, ‘wet’ – and a few poorly-pronounced phrases like “does it hurt?” –– it doesn’t, and as you’re pinned beneath him with a clear view into his quivering rosy lips and half-lidded gaze, you know he’s getting closer as he gets harder. He‘s trying to get his mouth full of your taste as if it were forbidden – like it all boiled down to this one evening, and this chance was all he had. And if it were for him, he would have made it last forever – but his body is not so used to this kind of endurance, so after a few minutes Riddle finally gives in, collapsing into your shoulder, quietly whimpering your name, in a moment of weakness that is greater than he’d like to admit. Riding his orgasm, fingers entwined with yours and digging at your knuckles in a tight grip, his voice is unlike you’ve ever heard it before, and you understand its over once he quiets down.

The silence lasts for a few moments. Or, more appropriately put, a slight wave of sheepish embarrassment, as he’s promptly rolled over to your left and you’re both lying face up and wheezing up a storm as if you’d just ran some kind of marathon. But then Riddle slightly tugs at your hand.

“Everything alright?”

“I think so. You?”

“It’s been... quite the novelty,” he says flatly, but then smiles a little at his choice of words. “Do couples do this all the time? ...it seems exhausting.”

“So that’s it? That was your quota for a whole lifetime? Fine then.”

“––No!” he hastily turns sharp on his side, facing you, only to find that you’re unable to hold your laughter. “–Oh. Not funny, Y/N.”

“Sorry! Sorry.”

“– I would very much like it if we did it again. Uh... tomorrow, or – or some other time.”

You smile. “I would like that, too.”

“Should we settle on a schedule?”

“––what? No!” but a sudden tinge of guilt overcomes you, as you quickly realize he might need it. “U–uh, I mean, if – if that makes it easier for you–––”

“––just kidding,” a soft smirk escapes him, like a stifled giggle that says ‘gotcha’.

“Oh, look at you cracking jokes now,” you accuse him with a pout. “That’s a first.”

“Guess that makes two firsts in one day.”

As you both let out a complicit giggle, reaching out for the sheets and then for each other’s hands, no longer worried about the next one step or million steps to come, you find yourselves drifting off to sleep in a loose embrace.

[tokiwarcube]

Hello, I love your writing and hope you're doing well <3

Could you write hc's about Toki before dethklok got famous? Like in his flashback in Doomstar Requiem? Preferably with a reader that's very supportive of him and always goes to his concerts in shitty venues to cheer him on.

Aww, thank you so much! This week has been incredible — very tiring, but incredible all the same. And it’s been nice to come back to the hotel (or in this case, hang out in the airport) and work on fun requests like these! Below the cut! <3

Fresh out of Norway, Dethklok was nothing short of a dream come true for Toki. He doesn’t believe in God, but this is the closest thing he’s ever felt to divine intervention. That doesn’t even graze the gratefulness he feels for you — he can’t even begin to string together how much you and your unwavering presence mean to him.

He lives for the crowd, whether it be a shitty dive bar or… well, a less shitty dive bar. But frankly, this is his first time ever doing this — he’s gone from complete isolation to performing in front of others basically overnight, and he’d be lying if it wasn’t a little nerve-wracking. Especially when the crowd isn’t feeling it quite yet — there always seems to be a few people at the barrier who are clearly just there for the next band, and it can feel pretty damn crushing. But then he looks over at you, grinning and cheering for him under the neon lights, and suddenly he feels like he could do anything.

(He hates the idea of you tabling for this very reason — because yes you’re pretty, and funny, and you’d probably sell a damn-good amount of merch just by being you… but if he can’t see you in the crowd, he’s not quite the same on stage. And it definitely bleeds through into his performance, and his behavior after the show. He needs his number one fan!)

You’ve gotta keep him from throwing his pick at you every night. You have him — the fans can have a pick or two.

He always links hands with you after shows — hell, he’ll bring you into fan photos if you feel comfortable with it. You might not be on stage, but you're just as much of a band member as he is at this rate.

He begged you to come with them on their first tour — they were only opening for some other band, but still, they’re touring! And despite your better judgement, against the advice of your family and coworkers, love won out… and off you went. And the van was cramped, sure, and the food wasn’t exactly great; and yet, it was the most magical thing you had ever experienced.

(The memories still glimmer sweetly in your mind over a decade later, and even today, he still has all of the photos he took saved.)

It’s fun taking him to weird little American places — doesn’t matter what state you go to, there’s always something new and novel. His eyes light up just about every time you take him somewhere new, and honestly, it never gets old. He always has a myriad of questions, too. Doesn’t matter if its a national landmark or a fast food truck — he will have questions.

He’s particularly interested in zoos and animal sanctuaries, though. The first time he saw one of the big cats, he damn near vibrated out of his skin. You’ve gotta hold his hand pretty tightly so he doesn’t get too close to the leopards and jaguars when they start to chirp and meow in his direction.

He gets a very far-off look in his eyes listening to their stories sometimes, particularly as sanctuaries and rescues, but still, he always asks the keeper if you can just stay a few more minutes to watch them. Hand in yours, sat cross-legged on the ground, with nothing but fondness in his eyes.

(In modern times, you have to keep him from buying a big cat. He doesn’t forget the stories he was told, but he does think he’s different, and it’s a Herculean struggle to remind him otherwise.)

He experiments with fashion quite a bit, with… varying success. Truly, love knows no bounds. However, he does find that he does really like having facial hair after seeing how you smile against his lips when his hair tickles you just a bit.

He genuinely lives for your touch, to the point where he can’t really sleep without you at night anymore! But in the beginning, he was very nervous about initiating on his own. He would eat up anything you threw his way — even brushing by him in the cramped as fuck van is electric, to him.

He always asks you to tell him stories at night — anything will do (he loves to hear you speak), but he likes happy stories about you the most.

He loves holding your hand at night, gazing at you under the fluorescent street lights — they’ve become an odd little piece of your shared life, funnily enough. The dying streetlamp outside of your apartment, the highway lights as the boys drive the van around the country… it’s a simple thing, but their shine has lit up more than just the night for Toki.

[lauriegraham01]

violent delights & violent ends

pairings: crowley x angel!reader, gn!reader (aziracrow x reader if you squint)

summary: having stood through the testaments of time, as Heaven and Hell's forces and anger grow closer every day, you and Crowley must both make a choice but what fateful consequences lie in store for star-crossed lovers

cw: hurt/comfort, lotta hurt tho, angst,

wc: 4.5k

a/n: UPDATED ON 9/23!!!! inspo came from a dream, romeo + juliet, and 'romeo' by until the ribbon breaks. working on a masterlist currently and hope to get it up soon. tysm for your support and enjoy :)

The party was in full swing and you found yourself getting lost within the noise of William Shakespeare's famous parties. You were currently backstage in one of the parlors where you, Crowley, and Aziraphale had joined Shakespeare and his fellow actors and other socialites in celebrating another successful opening night.

"I mean it, William. You are just absolutely brilliant, I mean you're ability to capture human emotion and spirit, well it's just marvelous!" Aziraphale had spent the better half of the night praising the poet as he truly felt starstruck by his talent.

"Yea, yea the blokes alright. You should've seen him when he was just starting out, now the bastard his own theatre." Crowley sneered as they took another sip of the mead they carried in their hand.

"He's more than alright, you can admit that. He's quite the poet." You look at them with an amused smirk as though daring them to disagree.

" 'O, speak again, bright angel! For thou art as glorious to this night', trust me love, I would not be here had you and Aziraphale put up such a fight," the demon recites almost mockingly.

"Now look who's the poet?"

"Enjoying ourselves are we dear?" Aziraphale shakes you from your thoughts as he appears before you and Crowley sort of breathless.

"Seems like you are, Angel," Crowley quips back.

"Oh just marvelous really. The talent that the Almighty has given some of these actors is just beyond words! I've even been invited to the opera to see one actor perform! Oh, I do believe I see "Mercutio" across the room. Excuse me- Mercutio!"

As Aziraphale makes his way back into the crowd of stifled bodies, you turn your head back to peer at Crowley as they take a seat onto a plush red velvet couch. Sinking into the couch, they spreads their legs open wide, almost invitingly.

"The opera? I like the sound of that." Eyebrows raising, creasing their forehead as they peer at you through dark glasses. With a free hand they tap their thigh, inviting you in. You happily take it as you make yourself comfortable upon it, head falling upon their shoulder.

"You know what I like the sound of? Silence. I do believe that I am beginning to overstay my welcome," you sigh tiredly as you study the side of their face. Finding your eyes tracing the tattooed snake just beside their ear.

"Oh come on, what are you talking about? The fun's just barely begun. Plus I've heard rumors of what really goes on in Will's study, if you know what I mean," their hold on you becomes tighter as they wiggles their eyebrows suggestively.

"Crowley, c'mon be serious," you protested.

"I am! You're gonna tell me that doesn't peak even the tiniest bit of your interest?"

"What? No. Crowley, I mean it. I'm heading back home, need to step away for the night."

The demon fully turns their face to look at you for a second and as they look into your tired eyes, they let out a sigh, defeated that only you could make them change their mind and make them bend in ways they never though possible. Defeated that you were their soft spot.

"Alright, let's go love," they sigh as they pull the both of you onto your feet. Taking a hold of your hand, they guide you through the crowd as the two of you make your way outside of the theatre and back onto the streets of London. You knew Aziraphale would be fine on his own, as he had no intention of his ending his night anytime soon, thoroughly enjoying himself in the presence of talented artists. Crowley maintained an arm wrapped around your shoulder as the two of you walked on cobblestone until the bookshop finally came into view.

"Home sweet home," Crowley announces as the two of you make your way inside the dimly lit bookshop. Taking your coat off, you blow out the remaining candles that had been lit prior to your departure and made your way upstairs to your bedroom. You heard Crowley trailing not too far behind, and as you make your way into your bedroom you look behind to see them leaning against the doorframe.

"You can come in Crowley, you know that." You softly smile as you find their sheepish behavior rather odd.

"Nah i'm good, I was thinkin' of taking off. Just wanted to make sure you were alright s'all."

Having known Crowley since the dawn of creation, you knew when they were deceiving you.

"Crowley?"

"Hmm?"

"Come inside, dear."

"Well alright, I mean if you insist," the demon blows a puff of air before making their way inside, shutting the door behind them.

They made themself comfortable as you got dressed for bed. You felt Crowley's eyes burning on you with your every move, and the fact alone made heat creep its way up your face. Turning to face them again, you saw them burrowed beneath the multiple blankets that draped your bed. Making your way beneath them, you slide in beside Crowley but still left enough roof to distance the two of you.

"Any particular reason you're so far?" The demon quips as their yellow eyes quizzingly look into yours.

"Didn't know if you wanted me to be that close."

"You know me better than anyone, y/n. You know the distance never made a difference to me, love." With that they pull you closer until you're engulfed in their body heat as you remained pressed against their side.

It wasn't unusual for you and the demon to be close like this, in fact in ways it was one of the reasons your bond with each other was so strong. Crowley, for better or for worse, craved physical touch. Having been deprived of it in their time in Hell, the only time they ever felt the touch of another is when pain and violence would be awaiting on the other side of it. With you it was different, it was their way of demonstrating emotions where words failed him. Most days it would be small things like a hand placed on the small of your back, or their hand laying gently on your knee whenever you sat near, but tonight it was different. By the way they had been handsy all night and with the distant look in their eyes as they stared up at the ceiling, you knew something was up.

"Crowley?"

"Hmm," they hum back in acknowledgement, eyes still fixed on the ceiling.

"What's on your mind?"

Crowley remains still for a minute, holding in a breath of ancient dread as they pondered over how to encapsulate the overwhelmingly conflicting emotions they were feelings, emotions they've felt since the Fall.

"S'nothing, you just get some sleep," they mutter, hoping to whisk away your concern as a way of sparing them from having to confront their emotions.

"Crowley..."

"Y/n?"

"I know when you're lying to me. I can sense that your mind is elsewhere, talk to me."

You pull back from where you laid and propped yourself up on your elbow, in order to fully look at him. Raising your other hand you softly run it through their locks before hooking a hand underneath their chin, turning their face to look at you.

"I'm here," you whisper.

Crowley's eyes search yours and they're met with nothing but adoration. The twinkle of the very stars they've created were nothing but a pale comparison to the light of hope that glimmered in your eyes. The light that no matter how hard they tried to run from, they always found themself running home to.

"It's the torment."

"From?"

"From the fall. Seems silly to dwell on something so ancient, but those demons, that torture..." their voice wavers as dread aches through their spine, "i guess it never really goes away."

Words die on your lips as your heartaches for the pain Crowley's been through. They never talked about what torture awaited for them in Hell after the Fall, but as an angel you could only imagine the suffering that was Crowley's fate.

You hadn't realized how silent you had been until Crowley shifts to sit upright. Mirroring their actions you move to face them and you see the way they try to hide from you as Crowley buries their face within their hands.

"Crowley, I understand I won't ever know what you feel, but one thing I do know is that you don't deserve to live in that pain. Something so vast as the darkness of the universe before you illuminated it with your creation." You gently wrap your hands around their wrists and pull them away to reveal Crowley's eyes reddened from silent tears.

"Let me walk with you, in that darkness."

"You could get lost in it," they shake their head, sniffling as they feel vulnerable by the transparency of their emotions.

"Then let me be lost in it, as long as I'm lost with you." You brush their hair back before your hands softly caress the side of their face.

"It would be your sin, I would be your sin." Crowley's hands creep their way up to your side as they hold onto you tightly, afraid you would realize the wickedness that lies within them and leave in disgust. The space between you and Crowley had shrunk as your foreheads pressed together. Your eyes never left theirs as the pain behind their serpent eyes sought refuge in you. You could feel their warm breath fanning over your lips, and for just a second you dare to move your gaze to look at his lips. Lips that looked so soft and tempting to draw you in. You didn't miss the way Crowley had also flickered to look at yours as well, so when your eyes meet again you felt a certain clarity wave afront as the feelings for the demon you held in your hands could no longer be buried.

"If sin be from thy lips then thus with a kiss I die."

Your words fall as a whispered prayer onto Crowley's ear as you close the spaces between and capture their lips into a soft kiss. After overcoming initial shock, Crowley's lips moved with yours in something so sweet as a sacrament. Yet that sweetness quickly turned into hunger as they kissed back fiercely, hungry for more and you were willing to be devoured whole. The burning within your lungs became too strong and you pulled away. Resting your forehead against Crowley's, as you both caught your breath you look into their eyes and see the mischievous light that you had sorely missed.

"You're in for it this time, love. A whole new world of sin," Crowley rasped lowly, as a wicked smile grew on their face.

"Very well then, give me my sin again."

It's been 423 years since that fateful night that would change the trajectory of Crowley and yours relationship forever. You loved each other in secret, while finding freedom in your relationship on Earth, both of you still feared the consequences you would face if either of your sides caught wind of the true nature of your relationship. It seemed that your relationship only got better with time, Armageddon was a testament of that. With the help of Aziraphale, the two of you managed to prevent a destructive war between Heaven and Hell, and remained living on Earth amongst the crowds of humans whose lives had been spared by your hands. Yet, despite this somewhat happy ending, Crowley knew that the fight wasn't over just.

"If you would just listen to me for once y/n, you would see that we are in danger."

"You're being irrational, Crowley. There is no war!"

Your voice had gone raw from how long you and Crowley had been screaming at each other. Crowley was trying to convince you that Heaven and Hell were conspiring and would be back for their revenge, and soon. You however were stuck in your stubbornness and were determined that their was no danger in sight.

Even with their shades on, you could feel the intensity of Crowley's glare as they stared back at you wide-eyed in disbelief that you could be this blind. Pacing the kitchen floor of his apartment, they pinched the bridge of their nose, trying to calm themselves down even though it felt it was useless.

"Y/n, listen to me," they say lowly, "you, Aziraphale, and I are in trouble. The longer we spend on Earth the longer we walk around with a target on our backs waiting to be killed."

"Crowley please, enough of this," you wave your arms impatiently as you pleaded with them with desperate eyes.

Crowley walks across the kitchen island and stand in front of you, holding your arms tightly within his grasp.

"Come with me."

"What?"

"Come with me. We can leave this place while we still have a chance. We can travel amongst the universe and settle down on any other planet. We can have a new start, turn a new page."

"Crowley, we're fine. I promise there is no danger he-"

"No, but you're wrong y/n, because there is!"

You flinch at the boom of their voice as their hands tighten around you. Fear flashing your eyes as you let out a sharp hiss from their tight grip that burned your skin.

"Crowley! Stop, you're scaring me." You manage to free yourself from their grasp. Breathing heavily, you stare at them frozen in fear, unable to recognize Crowley for the first time.

Crowley's faced drop and seeing the fear that they had instilled in you made their body slack and and a weighted dread sink into their stomach. Averting your eyes as you rubbed over the spots where they once held you, they could feel their heart break. The very hands that they swore to use to protect you, had been the same ones to hurt you. As you hesitated to look back up at the demon, when your eyes met and you saw the inner turmoil within their serpent eyes, you imagined the darkness that Crowley's mind was spiring down upon.

"Crowley I-"

"Don't." They stumble backwards distancing themself, afraid of what else they might do, afraid of hurting you again.

Crowley never meant to hurt you, and deep down you knew this. You two had your fair share of arguments over the course of millenniums but they never once lost control of their emotions and hurt you in the way they just did. Even as Crowley heard your thoughts, reassuring them that they weren't wicked and a danger, it wasn't enough. You knew the risks of being with a demon, and they were always afraid that one day you'd decide that being with them was a mistake and that you'd walk out of their life forever. And now, seeing you in this light, seeing that he hurt you and could hurt you, that scared them more than anything.

"There are somethings that'll never change."

Crowley swiftly made way for the door, feeling the walls of the apartment closing in on them. The shouts of Crowley's name as you quickly followed them fell on deaf ears. You're meet with the pouring rain as you follow Crowley outside into the driveway, the lightning being the only thing illuminating the night sky. The growing rolls of thunder seemed to match your quickened heartbeat as your anxiety grew with Crowley's distancing stride.

"Crowley, please!" Your voice comes out strained as you desperately cry out to Crowley. Opening the drivers side, Crowley stiffens as though fighting with themself to stay or go. Looking back at you, their red locks clinging to their face as their face scrunched in anguish, heart breaking more as they saw the pained look on your face.

"As long as you're with me, you will always be in danger."

The memory of Crowley driving away and leaving you behind replayed in your mind all throughout the night. Flashing days and sleepless nights passed as Crowley consumed your thoughts, unable to hide from the pain that their absence caused. This being the farthest things escalated in your relationship, you clung onto hope that there was a way to come back from this. That Crowley would come back and you could find a way to move past this together.

As days turned into weeks, you felt the hope that once burned so brightly begin to snuff out into smoke as you faced the probable reality that Crowley would never return and that you were left on your own. Well not completely on your own. After noticing how silent things had been from you and Crowley, Aziraphale decided to check in. Unaware of the mess that he would stumble upon, he felt blindsided from the state of things, heart broken too in the wake of Crowley's absence. Yet, seeing your severely distressed state, the angel put his emotions aside in order to attend to you. He took you within his care, hoping to help bring the light back in your eyes and comfort you until Crowley could come back.

Padding down the wooden hallway floors, you rub the fatigue of another sleepless night from your eyes as Aziraphale's door comes into view. Pressing an ear against the door, you found the silence on the other side of the door rather odd as he was usually up by this hour. Knocking lightly against the wooden door, you await to hear a stir yet when you get no response, you open the door to make your way in. Walking inside, the sleeping frame of Aziraphale's body come into view as he begins to stir from the noise of your intrusion.

"Y/N? Is everything alright, dear?" The angels voice come out raspy, fresh from sleep.

"Yea, i'm okay," you croak out, voice weary.

He looks at you for a moment, curious as to your sudden intrusion, not that he was bothered but that it was out of character for you to come to him so early in the day. With slow movements, Aziraphale slowly rises from bed, tightening the robe around himself as he made his way to the window. With a tug, the suns rays engulf the room as it casts its warm light throughout the space. Aziraphale closes his eyes, as though in silent gratitude prayer, and basks in the suns warmth. Looking at him, you can't help but feel a stillness in his beauty, especially with the way the sunlight illuminates his face and casts a celestial orange glow around him. Making him look even more angelic if that were even possible.

"But soft, what light through yonder window breaks," Aziraphale breaks the silence, opening his eyes and turning to face you.

"It is the east, and Crowley is the sun."

"You would deprive that from the Almighty herself?" Smiling brightly, you don't miss the way Aziraphale teases you for your endearing words. You find small comfort in his childish tease and bright smile, not being able to help the way your lips tug upwards at his remark. Aziraphale relishes in the small happiness that flashes across your face, even if brief. It had hurt him to see his love in pain especially at the hand of someone he too loved. Looking back to the window, he finds himself getting lost gazing into the crowded streets of Soho beneath him. A silence settles over the two of you, and your eyes remained fix on his side profile as the emptiness of the gravity of your situation creeps back into your mind.

"Crowley's not coming back." It was you who broke the silence this time, Aziraphale turning to you taken aback with furrowed eyebrows by how matter-of-factly you spoke.

"What ever do you mean?"

"I mean they're gone," you inhaled sharply, "for good this time."

"Well no, not really. I'm sure they'll come back, you know how Crowley gets." Aziraphale. Ever the optimist until the very end.

"Aziraphale-"

"You've always known how dramatic they can be I mean really-"

"Aziraphale-" you call out, his optimism making your wounds bleed even more at the false promises of an angel.

"Look, it's only a matter of time before Crowley walks through that door and everything will be as-"

"Aziraphale!" Your voice angrily booms like a roll of thunder as it bounces off the bedroom walls.

"They're not coming back! Aren't they?!"

Despite your volume, it was your tone that cut like a knife. Even as your voice felt so shaky, you spat those words out like venom that laid bitterly on your tongue. Aziraphale could feel his heart break as he stared into your eyes. Red and puffy from fighting to keep your emotions at bay, but also cold and unwavering as you forced yourself to come to the crossroads of the truth.

"No," he says barely above a whisper, a slight tremble in his voice as he barely shakes his head. "No, i'm afraid not my dear."

You've never seen Aziraphale look so defeated. So hopeless as he stared back into your lifeless eyes. The air around you feels restricted as your throat tightens. Your lips quiver as the painful truth of your beloved angels words echo in your head and settle in your heart. Your vision blurs as tears begin to welt in your eyes before inevitably cascading down your cheeks. Aziraphale then wraps his arms around you, pulling you in a tight embrace as you collapse within his arms. Sobs muffled from where your head laid buried in his chest, the world going silent as an insurmountable wave of grief washes over you, pulling you to drown in a sea of sorrow.

You don't know how long you cried for or even how much time had passed. When you came out of your daze, you realized that you and Aziraphale were on the floor as he pressed soft kisses against your temple, hoping to reel you back into reality.

"Forgive me," you croak, voice spent from lament, "i've been lonely, but it's not like I don't know my way." You try to reassure Aziraphale and yourself as you felt hollowed. Guilt also eating at you for putting the angel in this situation, having to take care of you.

"You have nothing to be forgiven for, my dear" he whispers lowly into your ear. Taking the hands that were wrapped tightly around you, he brings them up to caress your face within them. Your tears have dried by now but that doesn't stop him from peppering tender kisses upon your cheeks. Overwhelmed by his soft touch, you feel your face heat up again as the gentle sentiment causes your emotions to arise again. When he feels a salty tear catch upon his lip, he pulls away to see your glossy eyes staring back into his, searching for some kind of relief.

"But I don't know my way, Aziraphale."

The angel remained at your side for the rest of the day, never leaving you alone for a moment longer than absolutely needed. As he aided to your every need and treated you like a fine china plate- afraid to drop you and shatter into a million pieces. And for a while it helped, it made the pain more bearable, the ache of Crowley's absence less debilitating- but even all of Aziraphale's love wouldn't be enough to ix the hole that Crowley left in your life.

You thought hard about your next move. Calculating everything over in your head a million times but all roads led you back to where you were now. Managing to slip out of the Aziraphale's bedroom in the middle of the night, you made your way back to your original bedroom where you were now packing frantically. You packed as much as you could into your suitcase as you grew restless, wanting nothing more than to run away from this emptiness you fear you would never escape from.

As you left your suitcase by the stairwell, you looked down the hall before quietly making your way back to Aziraphale's room. Once inside, you made sure to leave behind the note that you had written for him on the side where you usually laid. You burn the image of his sleeping frame into your mind, wanting your last memory of the angel to be one where he seemed at peace. Leaning across the bed, you place a soft kiss upon the corner of his mouth, careful not to wake him. He stirred slightly beneath your touch, but still remained in a deep sleep even as you pulled away.

Making way for the bedroom door, you freeze under the entranceway.

"Look back, look back," you thought to yourself, a voice of reason wanting to make itself hear. Despite this, you fought against it and forced one foot in front of the other, because you knew if you looked back you would never leave. The cold air greets you as you make your way out into the streets of Soho, winds blowing harshly as you toss your bag into the backseat of your car. As the engine roars to life and you pull onto the main road, you glance at the rearview mirror where the bookshop fades from view. Silently saying goodbye to the place that had too also become home for you. You don't know exactly where you were headed, but just that you were ready to get there. Ready to go, but never to return.

The next morning, Aziraphale finds himself sitting on the edge of the bed where he gripped the white sheets, frustration and heartache threatening to drown him as he re-read your letter line for line, over and over and over again.

"Dearest Aziraphale,

My love, I'm sorry for the mess I've left for you to clean, it was unfair to you given your own heartbreak. Azira, I cannot thank you enough for what you've done for me now and in the past. But now I must go my own way and figure out what to write in this next chapter for myself. I know things will be difficult for if they weren't... well you see I would've killed Romeo and saved Juliet, but I don't write stories that time won't forget. So please angel, forgive me for grabbing the kerosene and letting it all burn to the ground. I've been looking for meaning, I don't know if I like what I've found. Forgive me for I've been lonely and one day I hope to tell you that I now know my way. I'm sorry. "

[ventique18]

Malleus Draconia: Masquerade (Chapter 3)

Link to Part 1, Link to Part 2

Noble Bell College - Lecture Hall

Magic School Student: A-- Ma, ma, ma-- Malleus Draconia..! Uhm... T-that gift from earlier... It was... It was splendid..! That's all! T-then... Pleases excuse me!

Noble Bell College Student: To have showcased Mr. Draconia's song like this... Our school is proud to have been the host for this exchange program!

*flies away*

Noble Bell College Student: I think President Rollo must have also been delighted. Thank you so much for your lovely singing voice!

*walks away*

Malleus: Though this is a masquerade, you should at least state your name when in a conversation... Heh, they're hopeless.

Malleus: ... Well, it looks like it made for a nice gift.

Malleus: It must be why people are not keeping away from me like they usually do.

Malleus: This is thanks to Ashengrotto and Shroud's cooperation. I must express my gratitude to both of them.

Malleus: And... to him who provided this venue for us, Flamme.

Riddle: Malleus. Are you taking a break from dancing?

Malleus: Rosehearts and Spade.

Malleus: I've already danced with those I wanted to dance with just a moment ago. I was just taking a break.

Malleus: Are you two resting as well?

Riddle: We were looking for you. I'd thought to chat with you, but you suddenly disappeared.

Deuce: We've already told this to sir Ashengrotto but... sir Draconia! That performance was the best!

Riddle: Indeed. To sing with such confidence! I, too, wish to learn from you. May I ask you for some pointers on how to sing so skillfully?

Malleus: This isn't a pointer, per se...

Malleus: But this song resonated with me ever since the first time I heard it. Perhaps it's because of that.

Riddle: That song... "Make a Wish". Is there anything special about it?

Malleus: Yes. This song was taught by Lilia, and him singing it was the first time I head of it but...

Malleus: The more I hear of it, the more I could never forget it. I felt a deep connection with the lyrics.

Deuce: If I'm not mistaken, "Make a Wish" was the plea of a bell-ringer who wished to meet many other people. It's a song of dreams and wishes.

Deuce: That said... Did you sing while thinking of how much you're looking forward to meeting the other exchange students?

Malleus: Of course, and also...

Malleus: I think there's more to this song than simply 'looking forward to'.

Malleus: The bell-ringer hoped for a brighter world, yet also feared it at the same time.

Riddle: Fear? Even though the lyrics are full of hope?

Malleus: That's correct. It takes great courage to step into the unknown.

Malleus: I feel the same way.

Deuce: Eh?! The confident sir Draconia, needing courage?!

Malleus: It shouldn't be all that surprising. I AM just a student, just like you.

Malleus: Even enrolling in Night Raven College naturally took some courage.

Malleus: For having lived alone in a castle for so long, being in a crowded place is something I had no experience in.

Riddle: I see.

Riddle: In that case, I somewhat understand how you feel.

Riddle: Feeling as much fear and anticipation in the unknown...

Riddle: Even so, the bell-ringer musters his courage and steps into the circle of people.

Malleus: Indeed. And he not only encountered the righteous judge who became his teacher, he was able to meet with many other precious people as well.

Malleus: A man who's not only kind, but also full of bravery; I cannot help but respect him.

Malleus: And so singing "Make a Wish" for everyone as gratitude for this exchange program... truly made me happy.

Deuce: Amazing... I never thought there would be so much meaning behind those lyrics.

Riddle: Me too. I have the lyrics memorized, but I never really thought of them as anything more than sentences... I didn't consider the story and emotions behind it at all.

Riddle: Malleus. Your considerate thoughts led to such a wonderful performance.

Malleus: Your backup vocals were also good. The success of our song was due to everyone's efforts.

YOU: Hornton, good work today!

Riddle: If it isn't (name). Don't tell me you also wanted to tell Malleus about your impressions on the song?

Riddle: We were just discussing that too.

Deuce: I also want to know what (name) thinks!

Deuce: What did you think of sir Draconia's performance?

You: It was incredibly moving.

Malleus: Moving? Is that so... Even when I'm confident of myself, having that said directly towards me is such a nice feeling.

Malleus: If my feelings were conveyed to even you, then I couldn't ask for anything more.

Malleus: I had been bracing myself to not see this performance through when the crimson flowers appeared... I'm just glad that everyone got to participate in this masquerade safe and sound.

Malleus: Oh, (name). [HE SAID IT WITH FEELINGS, like the type when you say "oh darling..."]

Malleus: Won't you let me have this dance?

YOU: *NODS* [THE SCREEN BOBBED UP AND DOWN]

Riddle: That's good. This is an exchange program, so I think it's important to dance with people from other schools, but...

Riddle: This is a good opportunity. So to commemorate, shall we dance, Deuce?

Deuce: It'll be my honor! Well then (name), dance with me next time.

Malleus: Ah, the masquerade has yet begun.

Malleus: Enjoy yourself to the fullest. Meet with lots of people, touch each other... What a beautiful night.

Note: "touch each other" is just a metaphor for mingling with people.

[sloane-kdramas]

Hiii!

You got me curious and now I have to ask. What are your all time favourite kdramas? Or the ones that you would recommend without hesitation?

Have a great day! ♥️

Thank you for waiting for me to compile my thoughts, choosing dramas that mean a lot to me isn't easy. But here are the ones I enjoyed and aren't talked about enough:

Encounter: Subversion of popular tropes will always be more interesting to watch. Here we have a heroine as the isolated CEO and male lead as the sweetest man to exist, sweeping her off her feet with adventures while completely respecting her position. Song Hyo Kyo gives a subtle but excellent performance, which made me love her acting way before she cemented it with The Glory

Guardians/ Lookout: I can't believe this wasn't as popular as Vincenzo, cause it damn deserves it. It's a story about blood-filled revenge, but from a woman who uses her pain to serve other people. Lee Si Young is phenomenal.

I Need Romance 3: Kim So Yeon can do anything, but seeing her as a careless 30-something as executive with a pet giraffe and a closed heart did something to me. She's the most imperfect, funnily relatable, brass and interesting. She just needed the annoying kid she used to babysit -now turned hot musician- to unlock her loving side. Sung Joon is the hottest a man has ever been.

Something In The Rain: Take all the societal problems Korean women are facing and weave a precious love story around it. It should be impossible, but they've made it work. The show excels in its depictions of casual intimacy, work life and friendships, nothing is exaggerated for effect. It flows through you like a song. And the ending wasn't bad, if you expected a fairytale you should grow up. It's a horrible reality, wherein lies love.

Search WWW: the ultimate story about women. This made me love kdramas. Three main players whose agendas clash with their ethics in the war of capitalism and surveillance. Three love stories, each hitting different strings. The ultimate modern classic. Memeable to death.

Ms Perfect and Woman of Dignity: it's not accurate to put these two together, but they represent the best that makjang has to offer. They're truly about how a woman finds her voice after being betrayed and how to take revenge on the people you thought had your back. And find a hotter man in the process.

The Penthouse: all its success made people forget it had the tightest script for two seasons. The writing was unmatched. It gave me my genius revenge queen Su Ryeon, who ran circles around every opponent, while keeping her warm heart and kindness intact. Don't watch the last three episodes, but other than that, it deserves its spot on the drama pantheon. The sweetest unexpected romance as well.

Honorable mentions:

Flower of evil

Weightlifting Fairy

Romance Is A Bonus Book

She Would Never Know

Why Her

Melancholia

Witch's Romance

Branding in Seongsu

I had to keep it to korean dramas, but I've watched japanese, thai and chinese as well, for another time.

Thank you for the question @troubled-mind, you made me revisit my love for these

[notyouraryang0dd3ss]

Having a #1 Song doesn't mean SHIT anymore! It doesn't mean the song is a hit.

Let's be so serious rn. Nobody knows any of her damn fault track that keep charting. I asked my mom to name one song of hers and she could name "Shake it off."

Smooth Criminal went #7 in the US.

Remember the Time went #3 in the US.

Heal the World went #27 in the US.

They don't care about us #30 in the US. But it still went viral on tiktok. A song that is almost 30 years old!!

Thriller the song also never went to number one, but ask people to name one Halloween song they gonna name that song.

And what is more impressive, having 1M EAS the first day or still selling 1M EAS 15 years after your passed and more than 20 years after you dropped an album. Longevity is quality. 1M first day sales she's gonna sell that much for years. Hell, she be lucky if she even sold 50k in a year in 30 years.

5 music videos of his that are made in the 80's and 90's are about to have 1 billion views this year.

Billie Jean still gets 1M daily streams on Spotify.

I'm sorry if you aren't an Mjfan and I bring him up but he's the best example I can give you also because Swifties keep comparing her to him.

If people don't like the song they won't keep listening to it. And if Taylors song just stay in her fanbase and they just massstream her shit. Nobody is gonna know this song in 20 years.

Because what is the last hit Taylor Swift had that was known to the general public? Anti Hero maybe? Cruel Summer?

And something that is also funny is that, Remember when her drunk self got on stage and snatched the grammy from Celine Dion and didn't even look at her.

And people were pissed and her team was quick on working getting a picture with her to mend the damage.

Celine Dion has 5 Grammys and Taylor Swift has 14.

But they knew that Celine Dion got more respect from the GP then Taylor will ever have. And that is something you cannot buy. And they know if someone wins out of pure talent or just because of favourism. And let's be real. Most people know these award shows are rigged and they don't care about it.

Like when RollingStone came out with that fuck ass best singers list that put Taylor at #102 and excluded Celine Dion. People were mad that Celine was included but Taylor was.

Or just recently they also called her the better Adele. Nobody from the GP was like oh yeah that is true.

I mean they can try to name her the Queen of Pop in one of the award shows alà Michael Jackson style, but it's not gonna work with her. When he got that name people actually agreed and they still do. Outside Taylors cult nobody will agree with that.

Taylor's Team is aggressive with the Marketing and pushing these numbers onto us because they know outside of it she has nothing to offer. Her talent isn't marketable. Her singing and dancing isn't that impressive. The most marketable things about her career are her wealth and business success. Have they ever talked about her performance while she is on tour. What is so impressive what she does on stage? No they just keep talking about the money she makes.

No I completely get why MJ is a relevant comparison here. Swifties do keep comparing TS to him and for that alone they need to collectively get their asses beat. But you used good examples and I just want to applaud you for that

& you’re right, I can’t name a single vault track. Every time I’m exposed to her its against my will through my recommended (and its usually so out of place too because i watch really weird video essays).

Charts truly don’t reflect cultural impact because Drunk in Love by Beyoncé never went #1 and neither did Toxic by Britney Spears but both are super well known. Anti Hero is probably the last single to go #1 but I genuinely felt harassed by that song 😭 its sooooooooo bad

Yes! The vocal trinity—Celine Dion, Mariah Carey, and Whitney Houston—have done SO MUCH for music and all have less than half of Taylor Swift’s amount of Grammys. Celine and Mariah each have 5 and Whitney has 6.

I didn’t watch the Grammys this year (forgot to) but I heard about the Celine Dion incident I was SHOCKED because the audacity of this woman! Her entitlement shows in everything she does and she’s really starting to believe her commercial success makes her a better artist.

THE ROLLING STONE LIST WAS BULLSHIT. THEY DIDN’T INCLUDE JENNIFER HUDSON EITHER! Their definition of a “singer” was soooooooo bullshit too like that magazine’s merit has gone down so much in the past 20 years it should be regarded with way less status and credibility. And who tf called TS better than ADELE?

You’re right, her moniker will be chosen by the general public (probably from a viral tweet/tiktok/etc).

And she needs aggressive marketing because she really is a below average musician in all respects! She has her songwriting but she should’ve just been a hit songwriter (like Estelle Dean) not a singer. What makes her marketable is very “ordinary” image—which makes her relatable to “every girl, like me and you” 🙄 her soft voice really creates an intimate atmosphere especially with her vulnerable (but superficial) lyrics. She has to be friends with her fans for her success to work. Because there is no way you can justify her being regarded as a “god” the way people do with Beyoncé and MJ otherwise.

🎯 with the Eras Tour coverage. No one ever references or cites a particular jaw dropping vocal performance or dance number. It’s always the amount of wealth she’s generating.

[nahalism]

when you are groomed by a society that calls leveraging people influence, or power, the commodification of self and other becomes the standard. people know what it is to win or acquire, but forget what it is to grieve. as such, they never learn that it is knowledge of death that teaches them how to live, until it is too late. — if, as implied, a person must die to grow, and do so many times before their physical death, we can perceive man made society for the pose holding contest it actually is. unconcerned with growth, and ever outrunning its own end, those who successfully function within it strive to imitate the curated parameters of personhood before them. aka. they perform their humanity, rather than living it — the mechanism of leverage, influence, and power that society uses to protect and self proliferate, becomes the only tool at its peoples disposal. as such people mirror the machine they operate within, learning to protect themselves, not knowing that without their humanity intact, there is nothing to protect. those who are committed yet unsuccessful, waste their life and waste the fruit that momentary encounters with the chance to change brought them. those who are successful, protect themselves so well they buy into their delusion. unlearning and unchanging, the substance of their life is diluted (legacy), and like all living things, they die. however unlike all living things not all get to truly live. this is what it means to lose.

its easy to blame or be mad at people who move in this way. its natural to be frustrated in the face of someone protecting themselves at the cost of you or others. but love is the only solution because its the only emotion strong enough and true enough to transcend the grasp of the illusion such individuals function under. as such, lovers must always love more. this is not a curse, but a gift, for we get what we give. more people dedicated to love over self gain need to stand in conviction of this and take pride in the purity of the love they give. realise you have been sold a lie. love is not a labour, but an honour to enact. each time you stand firm in your capacity to love, you do more than express your internal affections. you shift reality, and those who function in it, closer to toward fundamental nature. do not succumb to the idea that having the love you give be mistreated, or go unreciprocated, is be a source of embarrassment or a reason to love less. no love is wasted and nothing is given in vain. this is bigger than you, and bigger than the person(s) you may have allowed to misuse your love. take ownership, be self aware, and replace shame with pride. know the great value and rarity of not only what is it you have to give, but your willingness and capacity to actually give it.

[randomdragonfires]

Fabulous chapter 3 of Time Can't Stop Me Quite Like You Did btw.

So I'm guessing he's legit sleeping with both? but damn I hope she tells him she's figured out who the other woman is..

Hello lovely anon! Thank you ::)

With regards to Aemond's little mess and Alys being labelled 'the other woman,' I have some thoughts. Long character dissection below.

Aemond has always been more mature and well-read than his peers, but this trait truly began to show after his accident. The loss of his eye compounded his insecurities, making him feel as though he needed to work harder to compensate for what he had lost. His desire to gain his father Viserys’s approval became a driving force, as he saw how effortlessly Rhaenyra's children seemed to win their father’s favor, a favor he never received. While Aemond is undoubtedly angry at his father’s lack of reaction to his injury, much of his motivation stems from deeper insecurities and a yearning for his father to be better, particularly toward his mother and siblings.

This desire to impress Viserys shaped Aemond into someone highly focused and driven. He dedicated himself to performing exceptionally in everything he did, but at the cost of becoming emotionally distant. While he maintained surface-level friendships with those in his orbit - the children of wealthy families who would eventually become business collaborators or competition - he never truly allowed anyone to get too close unless they're his mother, his siblings or Cole. In this regard, his connections were strategic, rather than personal.

Wylde however, is a different case.

Given her mother's friendship with Alicent and her eventual passing, Wylde is brought into the fold as much as Alicent deems appropriate. She's not the best mother by any means - she's not even that open with her own children, as is the case with most society mothers - but she sees that the kids take care of each other, so she simply enables Wylde's presence by welcoming her and lets them grow together. There is a certain comfort in it for her, given how her negligent Viserys was to the point of driving a perfect woman like her to an affair with Cole the bodyguard - the man who eventually becomes the calm in her storm, the love of her life.

Wylde basically grows up as part of the unit. Aegon takes on a big brother mantle even if he's not interacting with them on a regular basis - remember that scene where he's dancing with a kid!Wylde in the first chapter?

She is a fairly important presence in Helaena's life - it isn't much, but given how inclined she is to not go out there and stick to her own family, it's a lot. Daeron and Wylde of course grow up thick as thieves - same age, same classes, all of it. They're the definition of the young friendship trope and they've been in it all.

Aemond, however, was not initially part of this close-knit orbit. From a young age, he kept mostly to himself. Though he was aware of his popularity as a teenager - after all, he was the brooding, motorcycle-riding billionaire heir with perfect grades - he was careful to avoid emotional entanglements outside of what he's already got. The other kids may have admired him, but Aemond’s introverted nature allowed him to maintain a sharp, disciplined focus. Still, for all his emotional distance, Aemond held a soft spot for those who had been in his life for a long time, including Wylde, even if he didn’t initially interact with her much.

Aemond grew up in a conservative, old-money family where Alicent’s strict parenting set certain expectations, yet his worldview shifted significantly after meeting Alys at university. Alys was a woman who had lived - someone who had experienced life, pain, and pleasure in a way Aemond never had. She introduced him to a new way of being: one where a person could be at the pinnacle of success, the most well-read in the room, and still indulge in life’s pleasures without compromising their guard.

For Aemond, this was a revelation. His entire persona had been built around the idea of staying emotionally detached to avoid being hurt. Alys, however, showed him that he could live both worlds - he could enjoy life while staying sharp and focused. Their intellectual and emotional compatibility intrigued him, and their chemistry kept him hooked. He was drawn to her not just because of her knowledge, but because of the way she navigated the world with such control. Aemond’s relationship with Alys is more than just attraction - it’s about learning a new way to protect himself while still being able to not just live, but thrive. Imagine a worldly, mysterious and intriguing professor with society connects and crazy stories, all with a sad past to match - that's Alys. How can he possibly say no to that?

So no, she's not the other woman. Not in Aemond's eyes. She's someone that's widened his horizons. BUT Wylde won't see it that way - her reaction to it is natural. Concern, worry - and because she's grown feelings for him, hurt.

Despite his want to maintain the casual nature of it all, there are things that he doesn't account for - that Alys is an unattached to her partners as they come, and his feelings for Wylde (and hers for him) are too serious to involve someone else.

Aemond’s growing attachment to both Alys and Wylde sets the stage for a messy chapter 3. He believes that if Alys can balance her emotional detachment with the pleasures of life, he can too. What he doesn’t realize, though, is that Alys is emotionally removed from her partners by choice, while his feelings for Wylde - and hers for him - are far too serious to involve someone else. He’s playing a dangerous game, caught between two women and two very different sets of emotions.

The final chapter of their story will be a mess of unresolved feelings and emotional tension, leading to where Aemond will have to confront the reality of his relationships with both Alys and Wylde and figuring out what he wants, ultimately. I’ve taken a fair amount of inspiration from Sally Rooney in terms of tone, trying to keep the dynamics as realistic and emotionally grounded as possible. The hope is that I don't make it a wild ride, but simply as a part of their lives that is beyond their control and overwhelming, if you get what I mean.

Anyway, sorry about the rambling lmao. I just needed to discuss the POVs and motivations, really. I've been talking about this with @humanpurposes @chattylurker and @aemondstark a lot, and it's quite nice to have someone ask me about the mess that is this triangle hehe.

[aduckinpain]

I was tagged by the amazing @paint-it-red-and-black for this and I found it so adorable I had to do it!

Use this link to make your own F1 Wrapped!

DRIVERS:

1. Charles Leclerc

The world may be unraveled and built again and I will still choose this man as my top driver. While admittedly at first I was captivated by his looks, I soon started genuinely enjoying this sport. Doing so allowed me to look into his story and by God is it something straight out of a book. His mentality to learn and remember everyone he's lost and fight for them while selflessly sacrificing himself for their wishes is something I couldn't fathom in a lifetime. And yet he does fight for himself and he does it viciously. He is one of the best, one of the only who I think with a competitive car could give Max a fight and win, and I need to see him spread his full potential. I am convinced that if this man doesn't win a World Championship then F1 is unachievable and Ferrari will destroy their own legend. You cannot just find another Charles Leclerc.

Also his dichotomy is insane. He's so chaotic it makes him incredibly entertaining.

If Charles Leclerc has one fan, it's me.

If Charles Leclerc has no fans, I'm dead.

2. Lando Norris

Admittedly I completely overlooked this man for about 2 months. Absolutely no second glance he wasn't interesting enough for me.

I repent for my mistake as he's consumed my waking days and nights. An absolute talent that stemmed from hard work. His second part of the season was to die for, I believe he as well, is one of the people that could fight Max for a championship. So young as well, and even if he managed to get there slowly because of his father, he tried to make it as realistic as he could. Staying a year just getting coffee orders while he's shaking in his boots for every interviews. A genuine sweetheart that deserves every good thing. I hate how self-critical he seems to be . He needs that win, he CAN win. In 2024 maiden victory for Lando Norris come on.

3. Max Verstappen

Everything, and I mean everything that this man has achieved, is deserved. Every win, every record broken, every championship was his. Because he is a generational talent, he is someone worthy. His past absolutely destroys me, especially seeing that he is in contact with his father still, but I can understand the way he thinks. Still what he went through in childhood is no excuse for the success he has now. This man is the sweetest, kindest person I've seen. He's grown so much over the years from what I can tell and he treats everyone so equally. From past temporary teammates, to rivals. A genuine joy to be around I want to give him a hug every day and tell him that he is special. Red Bull's second golden boy but also mine.

4. Oscar Piastri

At first glance, according to people I know, I look like this man. The bangs don't help, neither does the fact that I act similarly. However I will never complain if it means I can work hard and earn the success he's had in his first year in F1. When I say wow for him, I mean it. Showstopping performance. This man will be a Champion one day he has to. Absolute down to earth guy as well but I love when I see his competitive spirit shove its head between the calm walls. It's always the quiet ones and I'd know as I am one.

5. Alexander Albon

For fifth place I could've chosen a lot of people as I genuinely really like the current grid (with a few exceptions). But Alex is amazing. Truly believe that if you put him in a competitive car he'd bring miracles. He's put that Williams in places it never dreamed of driving around. One of the most talented drivers on the grid and his personality is to die for. So so nice and lovely genuinely.

RACES:

1. Las Vegas

I hated Las Vegas. Honestly still kinda do in a lot of aspects. But the race was the best. Charles definitely deserved that win and Max's penalty was too little, but a race is a race, it doesn't matter how you win it as long as you do. Charles' driving however was absolutely phenomenal. That overtake on Checo was borderline the most exhilarating thing I could ever feel. I was so shocked when I saw it, it took me a good 5 min to collect myself.

2. Singapore

While Carlos may not be on my list, the win he had in Singapore was well-deserved and amazingly iconic. I don't think I'll ever get over my confusion of hearing this mf say it's on purpose corresponding to Lando's DRS. that's the sexiest thing this man has done. That Carlando podium added extra years to my life. Their hugs and the champagne were the sweetest things ever. And Lando's pics from the podium were very um.......👁️👁️

3. Mexico

Very simple. Lando P17 to P5. Phenomenal driving. After the Austin GP disqualification. Charles Leclerc and Lewis Hamilton on the podium? Exactly what I wished for. Brought my boy back from the slump that's called the 2023 F1 season.

4. Qatar

Now to be clear, I hated Qatar. I will hate Qatar and I hate Qatar. It was absolutely inhumane and there should've been different precautions or the race time should've changed because I don't care that these drivers are trained, that was actual torture. So when I say Qatar as my 4th favorite, I mean the sprint race.

Oscar Piastri the man that you are and the man that you will be. Rookie season and won a Sprint race. I know you will be great and I cannot wait for your future.

I do dislike how they overshadowed his win with Max's championship. While I understand the celebration, he was going to celebrate at the end of the season as well. All in all, I'm happy for both of them.

5. Suzuka

My reasoning for this is even simpler. If you ever need to know my weak point, just look at the number of reoccurring driver things I have in my room. You will find an outstanding amount of Sebastian Vettels everywhere. On a shirt, in my phone, on my phone, on my wall and more to come. My reason for this is just his little bee project and how much I adored seeing him in his little corner waving his flags and the bee activity he did the day before. Everybody loves Sebastian Vettel. As they should.

RACES WATCHED: 12/22

Now I got into F1 during the summer break, which is the reason I wasn't able to see half of the races. However I am grateful purely because I don't think I could've experienced Charles Leclerc losing his grasp over the championship and Sebastian Vettel's retirement in 2022. That would've been my actual breaking point. And I saw a Max dominant season yes, however I saw half of it and most of the races were very entertaining still. I love Max too so.

TOP TEAM:

My genuine choices for this were McLaren, Red Bull and Williams.

I went for McLaren because of their amazing driver lineup, improvement over the second part of the season and really cool pit stops.

Red Bull however has been unbeatable and I will give them all the credit. The strategies, the pit stops, the wins, everything. Phenomenal

Williams grew on me quickly after Qatar. While the car may be frankly, shit, the team seems incredibly put together and I adore that they gave Logan a second chance. Also that they put the well being of their drivers first. James Vowles adopt me.

Thank you so so much for this, it was incredibly entertaining!!

If you want pushki do the same @h4mmert1me . I know most of your opinions tho <3