#of how lovely and genuine their connection was

[just-1other-nerd]

These are my picks and below the cut I'll explain why though I doubt that anyone will read this ridiculously long essay.

I'm making this a tag game but everyone is free to join.

Small disclaimer: I'm acespec, because of that romantic love and sexual attraction feel a bit fictional to me anyways (kind of like how I believe in magic but it's far removed from my reality and daily life, still wouldn't mind it being there at all), so I'm very good at separating this kind of fiction from reality. I still adore romance in stories and I definitely have standards of what I would want a relationship to actually look like in real life if I should ever end up in one.

Enemies to lovers (mostly in fantasy though) is my jam. It's that specific category of hate to love which is one of my favourite tropes in general, bully "romances" and such appalling stuff is not included in my definition of this trope. For me it is the whole "we are on different sides of the war" thing or the "we have genuine reasons to hate each other but through reluctantly spending time together we overcome this" thing, tension and banter are just great and if an author actually understands what makes this trope great that means that the characters will undergo some kind of development and I adore a good character arc. Do not get me wrong, I love friends to lovers (especially in contemporary) amd the fluff it can give me but it seldomly gives me the kind of kick that enemies to lovers has got to it.

Yearning and angst are my thing, 10/10 and you know what has got that if well done? Fake dating and forbidden love! But I ended up choosing forbidden love because the reasons to end up in a fake relationship are oftentimes less believable than the ones for a forbidden love. Because when has faking a relationship actually seemed like it could solve any problems instead of creating more in the long run? Meanwhile the love existing in the first place is the problem itself.

Found family is a no brainer. It can be basically anything, teens, adults, kids, animal compantions, a combination of those and it slaps everytime. Single parent is okay, I like the representation but I can't really relate. But consider a found family that consists of an adult and their adopted child... brilliant! I think I improved the single parent trope by 1000%.

Sunshine x grumpy is a fucking good dynamic if well written and not just there to check off a trope box. Second chance is once again something that I can't really relate to but I really liked the angst and yearning in the few instances in which I've seen it done well.

I never really got the whole famous people appeal. There's actors and musicians and so on which I find hot but actually dating them would be a nightmare considering their work hours, the paparazzi, the long distance stuff, the stress and so on. For lots of people this choice would be about what archetype they find hotter for me that would be the musician but I'm annoyed by the self insert vibes. I hate "omg this famous person fancies me of all people that must make me special but I am not special at all actually". But then I discovered the bandmate and teammate dynamics and the (sports) rivals dynamics. It completely removes the power dynamics of normal person x famous and rich person because these people are on the same level, the also very clearly understand the whole career and public eye aspect of a romance like this better because both of them are in the business. And that is great, it creates understanding, yearning and angst if the relationship could meddle with the career. And even if it doesn't there's still ambition and a connection through a shared interest. A lot of this vatiation of these tropes is also queer so I'm even more into it. In the end I chose sports romance over rockstar romance because even though I'm not into sports in reality but really into music I am very obsessed with certain sports anime and the shipping game is top tier.

Small town romance is a very American Hallmark movie thing to me. It's literally just a setting. Granted one with less anonymity, less places to go and more conservative views but still just a setting. I think it seldomly actually adds to a romance plot and oftentimes gets living in a more rural area wrong (trust me I'm from a European village with less than 1000 people living here). Also the (female) main character giving up a successful career for a not so special guy just feels wrong and is done way too often and very boring. A secret baby at least brings some drama into the story and I think that's entertaining.

There's something horrible patriarchal about a forced marriage it would be a nightmare in real life but in fiction it is my guilty pleasure since it often includes some form of hate to love and forced proximity. The latter also a guilty pleasure in fiction because by God do I like my personal space and would hate someone intruding. But in stories it causes the same kind of thing I love about hate to love: the characters are annoyed by one another but over time the begin to grow close emotionally and there's a character arc about understanding involved. (Side note hate to love and forced proximity can also be platonic.) The trope can also just be funny, like being shoved into a closet but they land on top of each other in a mess of limbs. I picked forced proximity as the one I prefer because it is more harmless than a forced relationship.

Summer and winter are just settings and while they contribute a lot to the vibe and to the possibilities of what the characters can get up to I think they are less important than the actual plot which is why my liking of a story won't be that influenced by the season. If I had to pick a season for a contemporary romance it would be spring (even though I like a built up that is longer than 3 months but alas), otherwise I don't have real preferences because once again it depends on the plot. But I picked summer since its vibes are closer to spring vibes than winter's.

I like good boys and I like edgy boys who are actually decent people. Bad boys on the other hand are often a cardboard cut-out of a person who has no hobbies except for brooding, being mysterious, being obsessive and abusive. So I didn't have to think hard about this one.

Slow burn forever! Draw out the tension, the longing, the yearning, the angst and I am happy but then let it all dissolve in a satisfying act of love or a heartbreaking one. One of my favourite tropes and I think one aspect of this is that if it takes a while for the characters to get together that means they know each other fairly well by then which I think is an important part of a functional relationship. Love triangles can be done well like when you actually do not know who will end up with whom or if you don't know who you, the viewer/reader, would choose or would want the main character to end up with because both options are good and likable or if one person gets two partners (one polyamorous person, two monogamous people who are okay with this arrangement) or if everyone ends up with everyone (throuple yay). But I have seen far too many instances in which it was not only clear to me from early on who the desired person would choose in the end but the author also failed to make me like the involved characters or when they failed to give me a good reason for why the protagonist chose who they chose or if the character picked the choice I wouldn't have gone with and thos things took away all the tension and likability. I swear 80% of this trope is "who is the not so special girl going to choose the insanely physically attractive and rich blond brother with a flirty personality who is the life of the party or the insanely physically attractive and rich brother with dark hair and a fable for brooding and antisocial behaviour?" and it's always the latter and he is the worse option out of the two already bad ones.

Billionaires shouldn't exist and burn in hell. The whole concept of their existence is unethical, I do not under any circumstances want to even have contact with someone like that let alone date them. There's also this power dynamic that comes with a person being much more wealthy than their partner which I just don't like. An office romance can also be problematic because it can annoy coworkers, change team dynamics, you never get a break from your partner, there might be some HR problems involved, you might fight over work topics, you start to associate your partner with desk work, there might be some envy when it comes to career, there might be uncomfortable power dynamics and trying to hide the dating thing from others to avoid all of this won't end up working otherwise there wouldn't be a plot or a conflict. But it's still better than fucking billionaires. Just get me away from a capitalist hellscape as a setting in general, like who saw cubicles and thought "this is cute"? I do not need to spend more time at work than I have to in order to survive so why would I want my fiction to take place right there?

I go to dystopia for the plot and the social commentary and while I appreciate a good romantic subplot a lot, I don't want this to distract me all too much from the thing I was looking for. Historical settings on the other hand are just very detailed (if the reasearch was done right anyways) and interesting to me. It's got its own social rules and political nuances. Of course patriarchal power dynamics have been even worse in the past but I love it when the couple navigates those in a way that still results in them having a healthy relationship. I also just love Jane Austen.

First love is nice but not necessarily better than second or third love and so on. My choice is revenge because I am a petty bitch with lots of grudges and I feel so much catharsis when someone gets what they deserve. I also love it when a character takes their revenge too far and has to deal with that moral dilemma, that is an interesting struggle if you ask me.

I think I have already established why I don't like office or work romances. And rivalries are often just a subsection of hate to love, and I've gone into why I like that too. A bonus of rivals to lovers is also the (often) harmless obsessiveness of the characters with each other. It doesn't matter if it's an academic context or a sports context or a career context, it is just fun

If you've actually made it to here, congrats I guess. Please tell me your thoughts.

@jediwizard @ilov3b00kss0much @ineffablebookgirl

EVERYONE ON TUMBLR NEEDS TO DO THIS

[jupiterianguru]

entry 001: messages from your ancestors

            ྀི❀⋆.ೃྀི࿔*:･

author’s note — while tarot can be a tool, you are in control of your own life. life is NOT linear and there’s no black and white answers to anything. take what resonates and if it doesn’t make you feel good, then let it go.

—

one:

the sun + 7 of cups reversed + ace of wands rx

additionally: 8 of swords + the moon rx

song from the ancestors:

these ancestors may have used their hands to create or build. i feel like you come from a lineage that has creative abilities, maybe you tend to have a lot of inclinations towards creating art or even simply appreciating art. there's natural talents or gifts for creation present here for sure.

they're giving you the green light for something. there's a feeling that you must get started on something but you might not know how, in what direction, or what resources to use. there's a mental blockage or a creative blockage if you will. you know, it's said that the throat chakra (responsible for authenticity and expression) is connected to our sacral (responsible for our emotions and creativity). i mention this for a reason, stay with me now. it's almost like you want to get started on said thing but each time you want to begin, your brain starts to bring up unnecessary, negative chatter. you get stuck on the how's, the ifs, and the buts. in turn, you find yourself stuck right before a point of creating. keeping you paralyzed with a feeling of being so close yet so far. spoiler alert: these thoughts are distractions from something deeper. here is where that throat chakra and sacral chakra connection comes in.

you're not doing anything wrong, matter of fact this is apart of your creative process. not only that, your healing. a big part of these thoughts are a core belief that is wanting to be acknowledged and seen. it's not that you're missing the gift, talent, or resources because you possess everything you need to move forward and create. but rather the blockage is coming from emotional needs that have been suppressed. i feel like the individuals that chose this pile are big intellectualizers and have labelled themselves as "self-aware." i'm not saying you're not self-aware. you most likely are... but the problem in this is that you do not allow yourself to sit with your emotions. when you hold space with your emotions, you are allowing yourself to come as you are. there's no good or bad emotions when sitting with them, you simply acknowledge them as emotions that are valid and natural. no matter how complex they may seem, we humans are complex and yet there's normalcy in the fact that we are so complex... you see. nothing is black and white.

give yourself a break and let yourself feel the frustration, the boredom, the angst, the sadness, etc. it's trying to tell you something. it's only when you sit in stillness that you will conquer the chatter and eventually get to where you want to get to. don't force yourself to create. you will get their on your own.

the reason i feel like this was an ancestral message is because i feel like some of your ancestors did not allow themselves to feel and eventually gave up on their craft. leading to a lifetime of regret. the good news is you are aware of this. sit your ass down and ask yourself why you are feeling what you're feeling.

this message especially reigns true for those who have been having or started this year off emotionally turbulent.

thank you. sending you love.

 

    ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

two:

10 of cups + knight of wands + knight of pentacles

additionally: ace of swords rx + king of cups

song from the ancestors:

these ancestors feel like people that moved from the heart like genuine passion and love for the world and others. very generous. i also hear laughter so perhaps some of them were jokesters, pranksters, or just simply people who loved to make others smile. i'm hearing that song from tangled "when will my life begin?" despite the happiness exuding from the outside, theres a sadness i feel within. maybe some of the individuals in your lineage never truly got their "happy-ending." whatever that meant for them, it could be that they had a dream to get married and never met that person. or if they did get married, it ended in divorce or tragedy. or maybe their dream was to go to college and become a professional, but they didn't end up finishing or have the resources to go. this is a general reading so of course it varies but the jist of it is that their dreams were either short-lived or couldn't happen at all.

there's a dream that your heart is set on. my grandma told me once that if you desire something so much that it makes you cry just thinking about it, it's meant for you. your ancestors are acknowledging that you have everything you need to obtain this dream. it may not seem like it to you but they have a birds eye view and they're saying that it's in you. but goddamn, you gotta really believe in it.

perhaps you're just starting to realize that this is attainable or you're starting to take steps towards this dream but it feels like such a far journey. it could be overwhelming, sometimes you may have bad days, or you just feel like there's no support and it's lonely. honestly, you guys may catastrophize the situation a bit sometimes. like just cause you have one bad day, week, or even a month doesn't mean all of a sudden your dream is gone or you're not worthy of it anymore. this is called a journey! your journey to your dream is not a easy path, duh, then the dream itself wouldn't be rewarding.

little mini story (i promise it's relevant): when i first read someone for the first time and found out of my healing abilities, i read them for two hours straight and afterwards i just cried pure tears of joy for an hour saying thank you to my team and creator. out of everything, all I could do is bask in that gratitude because it felt like all my pain, my suffering, my joy, etc. lead me to that moment. it was worth it. i've been on my journey for years now and i often go back to that memory, especially when i feel like my heavier days and emotions have consumed me.

this is how it should feel for you. you want this so bad for a reason. sometimes you may go through upbeat and fast times, it may feel like you're working towards something or what you're doing is beneficial to your dream but other times it may feel slow, down, like every step you're taking may be directionless. this is normal! this is how it should feel! despite what those people who have what you want portray on socials, it's a journey. everyone wants results so quickly now without putting work in, without enjoying the journey. this causes faulty foundations and unaligned outcomes. not everything is meant to be fast moving, positive, or happy all the time. you don't have to be in that energy all the time to be worthy of it. embrace both of these moments in the journey and trust that the seeds you have planted are growing. you don't plant a seed and watch it grow right? you nurture it, give it love, care, and trust that it will grow.

when you're lacking clarity or are doubtful, remember to be like the king of cups. move with these emotions rather than stay stuck in them. the king of cups shows us that we can be patient with ourselves and our bigger emotions but not let them consume us or cloud us. having a bad day? take a walk, a bath, spend time with family, friends or a pet. soothe yourself and don't let one bad day dictate the rest of your journey, you won't always feel like this and your situation won't always look like this either.

this message reigns true for those who have a dream pertaining to building a family, community, getting married, etc. your dream will be prosperous, stable, and so emotionally-fullfilling. it's possible the individuals that picked this pile may have came from less fortunate circumstances or just didn't get dealt the best cards in life. just because you came from that, doesn't mean that is your fate. you will make your ancestors proud and all past versions of you proud.

thank you. sending you love.

         

    ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

three:

page of cups + 4 of swords + the empress + the hermit

additionally: the high priestess rx + 6 of swords rx

song from the ancestors:

these ancestors carry a heavy energy pertaining to surviving. they never gave themselves a break simply because they couldn't. they needed to work to survive. i feel like crying for this lineage because that's all they knew is how to work their ass off until they were so tired. solely because their life depended on it or their children's life depended on it. health complications may be significant. you may be more susceptible to feeling the effects of stress. you may have things like back pain, insomnia, weight fluctuation, etc.

sit your ass down and rest. the end. that's the message.

no but really, if you're wondering why you don't see progress in any area of your life, it's cause you're not listening to your body and resting. you don't know when to quit and just unwind. let your body rest. let your mind rest. everything is always go go go. and it seems like even when you do rest, it's like your spirit doesn't rest cause either your mind is still running 80 mph or you feel guilty about resting itself. there's a lack of playfulness in your life right now. it's dull and you're probably going through the same routine day by day. I'm here to tell you, nothing won't change, if you don't change.

you are worthy of rest! you are worthy of being kind and gentle to yourself! I know our capitalistic society (if you're in the states) likes us to equate a "productive" life to having your to do list with ten thousand things on it but what if I told you rest was also productive? no? not comprehendible? well, it's time to break down that belief.

let your inner child come out to play! what is one thing you always wanted to see or try? sign up for that pottery class or simply go visit a local park that you've never gone to. if you don't have resources or time to do so, then find ways to switch up your routine like drinking a new coffee or opening a window and smelling the fresh air. find a step in your old routine to kick out and break that loop.

the fact of the matter is you're tired. you have seemed to lost the spark in you. maybe you don't even recognize who you are anymore, where you're going, or why you're doing this for and it's not cause of the work you're doing but rather not listening to what your body needs. prioritize your sleep and take a warm bath. I like working with the spirit of lavender for this so sometimes i'll sit with her though tea, a spiritual bath, or even smoking her. tip: add chamomile for a more gentle, warm hug type of feeling. remember to pray, meditate, or set your intentions. gratitude is so important when working with our plant relatives and their spirit.

you will not move forward or see progress if you don't do this. point blank period. this pile's ancestors talk a very matter of factly. but it makes sense as it seems urgent in a way. you have done enough and the work you are doing whether it's actual physical work or even just emotional work is so important! they're so proud of you but understand that they have worked so hard to be able to give you the privilege of slowing down and resting. do what they could not do!

this message reigns true for those who seem to be workaholics, have mommy issues, or come from a one-parent household. whoever you are, you're someone that can't sit still and you're being asked to do this exact thing. smell the roses, look how far you've come, you deserve this! also, hot baths, hot tea, anything warm or hot is recommended!

thank you. sending you love.

:)

[thewritingfairy]

I'm back and God that chapter you just posted!

Lovely. *Chef kiss*

I was thinking of some things. One of them is how the Batfam sees the reader and her pain so unseriously Because of "oh she doesn't know real danger". but she does.

They are used to danger. Numb to it and trained to face it. Reader is not.

They have their safe spaces. Reader does not anymore.

They have each for support if they are in danger. Reader doesn't have that.

They can choose to go out to face the danger. She lives with the danger and the other comes and goes as he please, completely out of control.

If i was in reader situation with all these facts I'd be scared for my life. I'll probably have a woupen with me at all times because I can never know where the danger may come from. (Especially if Jason is close).

If I was in her place and found out that they are vigilants I'll be too disappointed and probably be more likely to keep woupens close. Outside or inside. I mean Gotham is not safe to begin with but I'll probably feel that if they saw me in danger in their vigilant suits they will not care.

I remember a TikTok that said that Bruce is the Villein and the biggest winner in Gotham. That person said that Bruce owns Arkema yet didn't upgrade it enough to keep the criminals in or even protect the workers more.

He build and by hospitals. He buys a lot of small businesses after they almost fall because of the crime rate and keeps the workers in them. These things seem like just good stuff but remember that they get more money to his pockets and boost his reputation.

All so he keeps going out at night to beat villains. He sees what they do.

This person also said that there's a comic where Bruce use his money and social power to help more then Batman and it make better and more positive changes.

If I was in Reader's place and found out his batman. Just a little surch on the internet and I'll connect these dots and start to see him as the worst man alive. Especially with how he treats me.

Also. Sorry for anything wrong. English is not my first language and I'm typing fast right now.

😶‍🌫️

Mention chapter: 05 - Tim doesn't understand you

Right??? They are so apathatic to their own trauma that they see (Name)'s trauma as something small. But I've read the comments on that chapter en responded to some, and I was genuinely like; wow people find this enraging, wow people feel sympathy for the Reader and wow people think this is angst. It has been making me re-think some family dynamics (I've not been neglected or anything, we just don't communicate that well in my family) and also my ability to recognize angst. I do hope its a bit lighter than chapter 04.1, because it was supposed to be a light-hearted chapter--

But that Tiktok, they are kinda right.

But I think that Bruce's privilege makes him unable to see how much harm his public persona does. If his public persona was someone that was up to changing Gotham, up to changing Gotham's legacy besides being a playboy or a smug prick.

(Name) has that same privilege but they are desperate to not be like Bruce, so they make sure to be socially aware.

[guiltyasdave]

poison either way

pairing: Dave York x f!reader x Javier Peña

word count: ~3.8k

summary: Agent Peña walks in on you and Dave taking a bit of an... unusual break.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), able-bodied reader, reader has hair that can be grabbed, no use of y/n, dom!Dave, kinda dom!Javi, unprotected p in v, rough oral (m receiving), threesome, spitroasting, dirty talk, gun play, exhibitionism, nipple play, cum eating, no man on man action and i apologise for that, the plot is three raccoons in a trenchcoat don't overthink it okay (i know i didn't)

disclaimer so that no one feels the need to get weird in my inbox: in real life, this would not be okay. while they’re all extremely into it, javi gets thrust into a situation that he had no chance to consent to, and we have no knowledge if dave and reader discussed something like this prior either. however, this is straight up porn, not a guide on how to do safe bdsm sex.  

biggest love to @sizzlingcloudmentality for beta'ing this baby and for not getting annoyed with me when i've talked about this for literal months 😭

dividers by the amazing @saradika-graphics <3

notifications blog -> @guiltyasdavenotifs & full masterlist -> here

You’re hot, too fucking hot. Sweat clings to every crevice of your body, the fabric of your blouse thick and sticky against your skin. 

The room is windowless, the air heavy, stale with old cigarette smoke. Heated up further by the annoyance prickling under your skin, desperate for a way out. 

With a huff, you let the file you’ve been reading slam onto the table in front of you. More like trying to read, really. It’s a mess of crumpled pages, words hastily smashed into a typewriter, littered with typos that you’re trying to decipher. You peer at the box of files on the ground beside you, waiting for you to go through. 

“This is bullshit,” you sigh. Tired fingertips find your temples, willing the growing ache behind your forehead to disappear. “He’s probably halfway across the globe by now, and we’re here doing this—” 

Your partner looks up slowly. His brow creased with concentration, his eyes still focused and his back rigidly straight even after hours of being holed up in this poor excuse of an archive. 

The only sign to indicate any discomfort at all are the sleeves of his shirt, carefully rolled up and revealing his forearms. So he’s not completely immune to the heat at least. 

“Do you have a better idea?” 

He sounds calm, collected. Genuinely interested, even. Not an ounce of the frustration that you think might make your skin burst soon. 

“Well, no, but—”

You’re wound up tightly, like a coil just waiting to snap. You’ve been on this case for months, with no solid leads, chasing the vaguest of cues at this point. It’s how you ended up in this closet-like room of the embassy in Colombia, brooding over files, hoping against hope to uncover something you don’t already know. 

“You’re too stressed, baby.” 

Slowly, he rises to his feet and crosses the short distance to where you’re slumped in your chair. His hands land heavy on your shoulders. You lean into them, let the weight sink you down. With a quiet nod, your head falls back, connects with the broadness of his torso behind you. 

“Want me to help with that?” 

You arch an eyebrow, regard the upside down vision of his face that you look up to when you crane your neck. Temptation drips from his tone, sweet and heavy. 

“What, here?” 

His fingers wrap around your throat, a light touch, for now, but laced with the promise of what he can do to you. 

“Yes, here.” He leans down, the breath of his low voice ghosting against your ear. “Don’t pretend like you haven’t thought about it.” 

“Dave—”

He nips at your skin, chuckles when a shudder runs through you. 

“Honestly, I’m pretty stressed myself. Frustrated, even.” He pouts at you, one corner of his mouth twitching when you sigh. “Don’t you want to help me feel better, baby?” 

Truthfully, you really fucking do. No one unwinds you like Dave, no one knows what you need the way he does. You eye the door, the thin barrier separating you from the rest of the building, probably still bustling with people. But no one has been in here all day. Or the day before, for that matter. Fuck it. 

The small nod you give Dave isn’t enough, of course it’s not. 

“Ask nicely, then.”

You turn around, facing him where he’s standing behind you. 

“Please, let me help you feel better.” 

You’re out of breath, already. He smirks, his eyes slowly trailing over the exposed part of skin where your chest is rising and falling.

“And how would you do that, baby?” 

Your voice is growing smaller, but you welcome the change. Let go for a bit. Let him take the reins.

“I’d let you fuck me.” You look up at him through your lashes, satisfied when a muscle in his jaw twitches. “However you want.” 

Taking a step back, he leans against the desk you were working on, his arms crossing over his broad chest. If you didn’t know him so well, you’d mistake the cold mask over his face for disinterest. 

“Lock the door,” he demands. His tone is clipped, the one he uses to give commands, the one that doesn’t allow backtalk. 

Unsteadily, you rise to your feet. The lock clicks, and you turn back to where he’s watching you, still like a statue. 

“Down.” Without objection, you drop to your knees. He smirks, then snaps his fingers once, the sharp sound gathering the attention of your slowly disintegrating mind. “Come here.” 

You do, crawling over the hard floor until you’re right down at his feet, watching him tower over you. Thoughts are draining from your head, the tension in your shoulders dropping. It’s so nice to give up responsibility, to let someone else call all the shots, to let yourself fall, just for a little while. Like you can finally breathe.

“You know, I always fuck you however I want. It’s not that special of an offer.” 

The skin around his eyes crinkles as he smiles down at you. Only a little mocking, when his fingers dig into your jaw, prying your mouth open. You follow his movements obediently, opening wide for whatever he’ll give you. 

He crouches down a little, and you whine deep in your throat, your eyes pleading silently. Your spine straightens, every part of you aching to be closer to him. His smile widens. Clearly mocking now, clearly enjoying every second of your humiliation for him. 

“What, baby?” he coos, one finger trailing over your cheek gently, as if to soothe you. “Want me to spit in your mouth, hm?” 

Another sound escapes you, all needy and desperate. Yes, you really fucking want that. 

He clicks his tongue, straightens back up. “Maybe later.” 

Before you can protest, two of his thick fingers fill your mouth instead, pressing down on your tongue, invading your senses, overwhelming in the very best way. Your lips close around the digits almost instinctively, sucking obediently before he can give the command. 

He grins, sinking deeper, close to triggering your gag reflex. Your eyelids flutter shut at the sensation, a moan humming around his fingers. 

“Nuh-uh,” he growls, his fingers curling, pressing down uncomfortably. “Eyes on me, you know better than that.”

You open them back up instantly, wide blown pupils finding his. Tears leak down your cheeks and he catches some of them with his thumb, rubbing them into your skin. 

“That’s better, isn’t it?” His thumb locks under your chin instead, making you nod. “Complaining all day long, when you could use your mouth for this instead…”

Your knees already feel bruised against the unforgiving hardness of the floor. His fingertips keep hitting your throat repeatedly now, making you gag again and again. Drool is dribbling down the corner of your mouth. Still, your panties are soaked through, sticking to your skin. Your hips are humping against thin air, desperate for something, anything. You know better than to slip your fingers under your skirt without permission, and you certainly know better than to stop sucking and ask, but he must be able to read the pleading in your eyes.

Abruptly, he pulls his fingers out, unceremoniously wiping them clean on your cheek, leaving you damp with your own spit. “Up,” he barks, already roughly pulling at you before you have time to react. 

He spins you around so quickly that you’re still getting your bearings when you’re bent over, your torso pressing against the cold table, with Dave in your back. He flips your skirt up, revealing your bare ass and landing two sharp slaps there. 

You gasp out in pain, but feel your back arching, already wishing for more. Instead, he kicks your feet apart, spreading your legs further. His finger runs over your ruined panties, all teasing lightness, playing with your hole with the slightest of pressure. 

“Always so fucking wet,” he marvels, his voice gravelly with arousal. “I barely touched you, baby. You get that worked up just from sucking on my fucking fingers?”

You whine out an affirmative, your voice trailing off when he pulls the fabric to the side and slides his fingers through your folds without a barrier. 

“Can’t keep that slutty pussy waiting then,” he grits out, and the familiar clinking of his belt buckle reaches your ears, followed by a zipper getting undone. 

You brace for the impact of him entering you. Dave never takes his time, never works you open beforehand. He likes to toy with you in other ways, likes to get you desperate before he fucks you. But you both enjoy the biting stretch of his cock spreading you open without preparation, the way it pushes the air from your lungs, always just on the right side of painful. 

His hand finds your hip, holding you steady while the other lands on your back, pushing your body flat against the rough surface. Then, he slams into you. You stifle a scream into your fist, your back arching further to accommodate him. 

He holds still for a moment, groaning at your walls fluttering around him, before he pulls back. Only his tip stays wedged inside you, before he fills you up again, over and over. His hand travels from your back to the back of your head, pushing down, smothering you under the overpowering mass of his body. 

“Fuck,” he growls behind you. His fingers dig into your hip hard, adding to the delicious pain only he can incite in you. He’s so deep, hitting all the spots no one ever seemed to be able to find before him. 

You’re shaking, your pussy pulsing around him, all wet and needy, already embarrassingly close to an orgasm. One that he won’t let you have just like that, not a doubt. 

Through the haze, the sound of a key getting crammed into the lock from the other side interrupts you. The door swings open, revealing tanned skin, dark hair and brown eyes, widened at the picture in front of him. Agent Peña, your contact at the embassy, who, rather begrudgingly, had shown you around two days ago and finally dropped you off at this archive room. You hadn’t seen him since, though he did float around your head quite a few times. 

He’d reminded you of Dave, in a way. The same strong nose, the same dark brooding eyes, the same no nonsense attitude. The same pouty lips, though his are framed by a moustache that you’d pay good money to see on Dave. Maybe you have wondered if they’d taste the same, too. Maybe you’d crushed on him, just a little.

With that being said, no part of you had envisioned having him catch you like this.

But you’re already too far gone to be embarrassed, all coherent thoughts melted away as soon as Dave put his hands on you. You hear Dave’s grin in his voice from behind you, his thrusts never faltering, still punching breathy moans from your throat, jostling your body against the table over and over. 

“Agent Peña. You wanna give her a go when I’m finished?” 

His fingers dig into the flesh of your shoulder, pulling you up against his chest. Your blouse falls open wider, baring the lace of your bra to the other agent. Dave pinches a nipple over the fabric, the breath of his chuckle hot against your neck when you mewl in reaction. 

“Best stress toy I’ve ever had.” 

“Dave—“ you protest weakly, hoping against hope that he misses the new rush of wetness that followed his words. 

He pinches harder, his teeth scraping over your neck. 

“Sorry, who?” You whine, shame tying your tongue. Dave tuts at you, his touch not letting up. “Mind your manners, baby.” 

“Sir,” you grit out, voice stuttering with his still unrelenting thrusts. 

His lips pull into another grin against your skin, one you wish that you could see. 

“That’s better.”

The other agent –Javier, you remember now– appraises you, his gaze slowly gliding over you, resting on your exposed cleavage. The corner of his mouth curls into a smirk. 

“Interesting investigation that you’re conducting here, Agent York.” 

Dave chuckles, giving you another thrust that has your hips digging into the table and a moan tumbling from your lips. 

“Just taking a little break,” he purrs against your neck, pulling at your blouse again.

Javier’s smirk widens, and he steps closer. His eyes darken as he takes you in, the swell of your breasts that Dave is putting on display for him, and the pleasure-drunk expression on your face. 

His gaze is burning with hunger, his brow slightly furrowed, and God, he’s beautiful. “Is this really okay?” His fingers glide over the fabric that’s barely covering you, one eyebrow rising in question. You love the way he sounds, his voice wrapping around words softer than Dave’s does, his tone thick as honey with arousal. 

“Yes,” you nod, enthusiastically, pulling your shoulders back to show yourself off. “Please, I want it.” 

With a low groan, his fingers find your bare skin, cupping your tits, weighing them in his hands. “More,” you beg, your voice breathy and laced with desperation, and he chuckles. He pulls your breasts out of the cups, groping them, watching as the flesh spills through his fingers. His thumbs start stroking your nipples, which harden instantly under his ministrations. He starts scratching his fingernails over the sensitive tips, eliciting soft moans from you, until he gives them a sharp pinch that has you keening. 

“Do that again,” Dave rasps from behind you, thrusting into you right to the hilt and holding himself there. “Made her clench so good.” His hand rubs up your back, almost soothingly, until he reaches your hair and gives your head a harsh tug. “She likes it when it hurts, don’t you, babe?” 

“Yes, sir,” you mewl, feeling your walls tighten when Javier’s fingers torment your nipples again.

In front of you, you eye the growing bulge under the agent’s tight jeans, your mouth watering. He follows your line of sight, smugness dripping from his grin as he slowly starts undoing his pants. 

His cock springs free, heavy and already leaking precum at the tip. You watch as if in trance, eyes trailing over the thick shaft and the dark hairs, the faint musk of him invading your senses. Nothing but want want want on your mind, you eagerly open your mouth, your tongue lapping at him as soon as he’s in reach. He tastes almost too good, only adding to the haze in your brain. 

He groans when you start sucking him, hollowing your cheeks and trying to fit as much of him as possible in your mouth. His hand sinks into your hair, holding your head steady, your lips stretched wide around his girth. You moan around him every time Dave thrusts into you particularly hard, jostling you between them, until Dave’s hand connects with your ass once more.

“You can do better than that,” he snarls, shoving your whole body forward when he pistons into you again. Javier’s cock hits the back of your throat and you gag, but you’re determined to make him feel good, to suck harder, just like Dave ordered you to.

You can’t see, your eyes blurry with tears and every coherent thought gone from your brain, but Javier must’ve had some kind of reaction, because you hear Dave say, “Don’t worry, she’s fine. She’s into this shit.” 

You try to nod in response and they both laugh. “I can tell,” Javier moans, sinking even deeper. 

Slowly, you’re becoming overwhelmed, disoriented, your head dizzy with all the sensations. Your mouth filled to the brim, Dave slamming into you again and again, your nipples rubbing against the table and adding to the buzzing that’s overtaking your whole body. Feeling you growing tighter, Dave lands one more spank on your ass, and it’s like all your nerve endings light up at once.

You don’t know where you end and they begin, only endless waves of pleasure running through you, propelling you higher and higher. You’re screaming around Javier’s cock, no concern about who might hear, only more more more. 

He gets more comfortable by the second, holding your head in a tight grip now and fucking into your mouth. You’re growing limp, your body spent, but you keep sucking obediently. All you know is pleasure and the need to give it to them, your mind far away from any other thoughts. With a grunt, he presses against the back of your head and comes deep down your throat, his cock pulsing against your tongue. You swallow eagerly, savoring the taste as best as you can, until he steps back, catching his breath. 

Your face is a wet mess of tears and drool when Dave pulls back as well. The sudden unexpected movement and the loss of him make you wince, looking back at him in surprise. 

“Didn’t give you permission to come, did I?!” he snarls, grabbing at your shoulder until you’re upright, pressed against his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” you try, your voice hoarse from the throatfucking you just endured. “It was all too much—” 

“You’re not sorry,” he coos sweetly, kissing your cheek, “but you will be.” 

Dave maneuvers you up onto the desk, pushing your skirt up entirely and finally pulling your panties down your legs. Javier’s hands are on you instantly, holding you up and roaming over your skin, while Dave goes to rummage through his bag.

“Sit tight baby, I got a treat for you.”

You lean into the solid chest behind you, Javier’s skin hot against yours. One arm wraps around your front, pulling you closer. His fingers dip down to circle your nipple agonizingly slow. The table’s edge digs into your thighs where you’re seated against it, but you barely feel it.

You squirm against him, earning you a breathy chuckle against the crook of your neck. His other hand finds your inner thigh, pulling your legs apart. Baring you, presenting you to the man in front of you. 

Dave’s jaw is clenched, fire burning in his dark eyes as he takes you in. Slowly stepping closer, gaze locked on where you’re dripping for the both of them. 

“Insatiable little thing. Two cocks and you still need more, huh?” 

You nod, not even sure what you’re agreeing to. But if Dave teases who about more, you want it. No question.

His cock is still hard and leaking, taunting you, feeding the needy ache inside of you. Instead, when he shows his hands, he’s carrying the gun that’s part of his daily equipment. Your eyes widen, your jaw falling open. He had teased you about this before, laughed at how wet you had gotten at the prospect. But now? 

He steps closer, caressing your cheek, achingly gentle. “Are you scared, baby?” 

“A little,” you admit, nodding, your voice timid. 

His voice loses the teasing lilt, his hand cupping your face tenderly. “Do you wanna stop?” 

You think it over, just like he taught you to. Searching what you want, not what you think he wants to hear. “No,” you decide. You give him a conspiratory little smile, one that grows with the spark it ignites in his eyes. “It’s exciting.” 

“Good girl.” A biting slap makes your head fly to the side, all tenderness drained from his demeanor in an instant. 

Javier’s hand holds your chin, turns your head forward again. You feel his hot breath against your neck, his teeth scraping against the skin. The fingers of his other hand are still tormenting your nipples, tugging and pinching, until it takes everything inside you not to squirm. Your arousal keeps flowing from your pussy, coating your thighs and probably collecting on the surface beneath you. 

Dave comes closer, his fingers curled around the weapon in his hand. Your breath hitches when it connects with your skin. He draws a trail, from your belly up to your breasts, circling one nipple and nudging it with the unforgiving steel. You jerk in Javier’s hold, already too pent up to sit still again.

Tutting at you, Dave follows the trail down again, tapping the gun against your inner thigh, making you spread your legs even wider. He slides it through your wetness, your thighs quivering at every contact.

“Big stretch, baby.” 

The grin on Dave’s face is lethal, all sharp teeth and bite. The cold metal nudges at your opening, the unfamiliar shape not slipping in as easily as his cock did. 

Finally, your walls part for him, letting the gun sink inside, stretching you uncomfortably wide. He starts moving it, slower than he fucked you before, but still rough enough to have your breaths come unsteadily, laced with moans somewhere between pain and pleasure. His own hand moves over his cock, stroking in rhythm with the thrusts.

The gun’s edges are sharp, the shape hard and unyielding, forcing its way inside you over and over. Still, your blood is thrumming in your veins, the sensations from your cunt and from Javier’s hands on your nipples swirling together into a heady mix, threatening to shatter you.

Javier starts sucking at your neck while palming your tits, his nails digging into the sensitive flesh. Dave’s eyes are glued to where his gun keeps sliding into your pussy, messy and glistening with the juices of your arousal. A cruel fascination is written over his features. 

“Fucking slut, you’ll really take anything up there, huh?” 

You can only nod, holding on to the last bits of yourself before pleasure will swallow you whole. 

“Can I— please sir, can I come?” you manage to choke out, not sure if you could stop if he says no. 

“Go ahead,” he growls, giving the gun a particularly rough thrust that sends you flying to your high. Your mouth falls open, your whole body soaring with the intensity. 

Dave’s eyes roll back at the sight, and with a few more strokes, he follows you over the edge. He comes all over your spent pussy, your spread legs, his cum mixing with your wetness. His body slumps forward, his arms on either side of you, his head falling against your sternum. Holding him there, you lean back against Javier, all three of you breathing heavily, but satisfaction radiating from you. 

Finally, you untangle from each other. Both men help you off the table, all soft, supporting touches now. There’s a mess where your open thighs have been. Smirking, you lean down to connect some of it on your tongue. 

Javier is already half hard again, watching you with hooded eyes. You step up to him, pulling him in for a kiss. You let him taste the combination of Dave and you, delighted when he moans into your mouth and his hands tighten on your hip. 

“You know where we’re staying, right?” you ask, giving him a wink. “We have no plans this evening.”

thank you so much for reading!! <3 i feel kinda silly and needy writing this, but i feel like the interaction with fanfics has gotten worse again, so please: if you enjoyed this, it would absolutely make my day if you told me. it really means so much and keeps fanfic writers going. i dreamed this up for myself, but putting it into (i hope) somewhat decent writing because i thought others might enjoy it too takes a lot of time and effort and it's really fucking nice to get some acknowledgment for that.

[gimmickblogcompletionist]

Present: cheese-locator-inator

Missing:

100percent-shell-oil, 100-percent-real-official-malta, 25th-rat-detector, a-counter, a-fount-of-blessings, accidental-will-wood-reference, ace-attorney-smash-or-pass, achivement-unlocked, actual-aspec-military, actual-transgender-navy, actually-alberta, actually-danish-denmark, actually-literally-ireland, actually-titan, aistobascistod, aita-blorbos, alonglistofbirds, alpha-centauri-everyday, alphabetizing-posts, alphabetcompletionist, alphabetstatistician, alphabetuncompletionist, alyrictoasongbythecranewives, amen-break-detector, amongus-text-detector, amphibianaday, anarchist-chess, applecounter, are-there-grammar-errors, arewebeholdingaman, arizona-official, aromantic-navy, aromanticofficial, asciicompletionist, astrononymouss, axolotl-detector, b-counter, bad-time-analogies, balloon-hater, bat-detector, bear-detector, bible-word-counter, biblepercent, binas-official, bird-detector, birdcounter, bisexual-airforce, black-parade-daily, blood-heritage-posts, blorbo-court, blue-marble-earth, bug-detector, c-counter, c-official, can-they-assemble-ikea-furniture, can-they-lift-thors-hammer, cantheykillmacbeth, cantheysurvive2001aspaceodyssey, cantheywinthehungergames, cape-breton-island-itself, carbon-monoxide-detector, card-of-the-day, cat-detector, cat-identifier, cat-spotted, cccc-reference-counter, certified-door-posts, certifiedchickenposts, certifiednewyorkposts, characters-with-garlic-bread, chess-rook, chicago-mentioned, citrus-typos, civilisation-updates, colortracker, colourpickingpride, columbiforme-detector, connection-terminated-blog, content-free, contraction-counter, cool-rocks-official, corvid-detector, corviddetector, costcopizzablog, could-transition-save-her, couldtheybecouldtheybekira, couldtheycatchkira, counter-facts-i-just-made-up, court-artist-under-the-stars, crab-detector, crab-detector, crane-detector, creatures-in-posts, critter-creature-or-beast, crowdetector, daily-crabbys, dailyquests, decontextifier, definitely-brasil, definitely-britain, definitely-canada, definitely-canada, definitely-totally-croatia, definitelytherepublicofireland,

denmark-forreal, denmark-official, denmarklandia-official, depot-of-homes, detector-detector, detector-rat, digitcounter, dino-detector, disappointed-by-lack-of-soup, djibouti-colour-picker, does-this-require-cyanobacteria, dog-spotted, dragons-locator, drawing-you-as-a-critter, e-counter, earth-updates-today, east-germany-official, eat-or-fuck, ebugsdotjpeg, echo-flower-from-undertale, egg-detector, eggblackoutpoetry, eial-daily, elitegreet, elvis-official, elvis-official, entities-of-posts, etho-spotted, everydayspamton, evilorcadetector, fav-character-shroin-count, femboy-community-notes, femboy-state-of-florida-official, fish-detector, fish-identifier, fishidentifier, fistfulls-of-basil, flametexting-posts, fluttershywheresheshouldntbe, fool-counter, forever-scotland, fox-detector, fr-winn-dixie, france-unofficial, free-post-store, friend-myth-kill, frollosuggestions, fuck-you-in-particular, gastropodcrimes, genuinely-germany, germany-official, get-loved-nerd, gimmick-mimic, gimmick-patter, gimmick-remover, gimmick-remover, gimmick-thief, gimmick-thief-thief, gimmick-unremover, gimmickblog-posts, gimmickbloghunter, gimmickbloghunterhunter, girl-detector, givingyouarandompathogen, glados-official-aperture, googlyeyesonmagiccards, guatemala-official, happy-little-painter, has-no-opinions, hateful-daystar, hazard-symbols-that-fuck-hard, heelys-not-official-store, hellsite-proteins, hellsite-quotes, hellsitegenetics, hemo-rainbow-completionist, heresylog, hitboxesonstockimages, hituwithabat, homestuck-word-counter, how-many-letters, how-many-purples, how-much-yellow, howdotheyliketheirsteak, howmanywordz, howoldisjimmycarter, i remove-color-from-posts, i-add-ampersands-to-posts, i-am-poland, i-am-the-milky-way-galaxy, i-bork-at-you, i-count-words-in-posts, i-detect-rickrolls, i-give-amogus-to-people, i-give-chess-piece-to-people, i-give-worms, i-give-you-a-fish, i-give-you-a-manul, i-hesistantly-say-ok, i-make-things-content-aware, i-make-things-into-faces, i-make-things-snakes, i-make-things-spheres, i-meow-at-you, i-reblog-your-post-with-balls, i-remove-color-from-posts, i-say-not-ok, i-say-ok, i-say-quite, i-say-your-mom, i-shelve-posts, i-suggest-arson, i-tag-gimmick-accounts, i-type-things, i-want-tennis-ball, identifying-cars-in-art, identifying-cars-in-posts, identifying-cat-phenotypes, identifying-cleaning-products, identifying-dinosaurs-in-posts, identifying-guns-in-posts, identifying-horses-in-posts, identifying-maille-weaves, identifying-spacecraft-in-posts, identifying-typewriters-in-posts, identifyinggimmickblogsinposts, identifyingtrainsinposts, idetectinsect, ifitwasediblewouldyoueatit, image-inverter, imakecalculatorposts, in-case-i-die-daily, in-python-terms-please, in-real-life-moon, in-the-bible, incaseimakeit-daily, india-official, inside-outtakes-daily, irespondbees, is-destiel-canon-yet, is-it-loss, is-it-out-of-touch-thursday, is-it-ranboos-birthday,

is-it-throwing-him-thursday, is-silksongg-released-yet, is-this-fascism, is-this-trans, is-this-yuri, is-wonder-mainline-yet, is-your-post-grey, isuggestarson, isuggestforcemarc, its-target-official, jesus-holding-your-fave, jupiter-fan, kittybroker, l337spe4kr, libraryofbabel-postlocator, literally-luxembourg, littleguysdaily, lizard-detector, making-you-in-spore, maryland-officially, massachusetts-official, mawile-moment, meme-conservation, meows-at-your-post, mhm-wisconsin, micheal-jackson-official, mouse-detector, mousedetector, new-hampshire-real, new-york-for-real, newhampshireofficial, nihonkokuu, non-tyrannical-usa, not-communist-usa, numberscompletionist, nyan-copies-gimmick-blogs, oedcompletionist, oedcompletionist, official-boob-posts, official-denmark, official-fedex, official-hongkong, official-ireland, official-jurassic-park, official-library-posts, official-linguistics-posts, official-new-zealand, official-rhode-island, official-wales, officialdragonposts, ofishal-fish-posts, ominous-signs, ominoussigns, operagxreal, orange-content-rater, orca-detector, original-post-locator, painting-red, pakistan-official, parantheses-posts, periodiccompletionist, pointless-achievements, pokemonifying-posts, post-eater, post-shooter, post-store, post-uwuifer, post-uwuifier, postalignments, postanagramgenerator, postarsonist, posts-i-saw-on-wikipedia, posts-with-10000-notes-in-spirit, powehi-the-blackhole, pq-anon, pronouncounter, psychicdamage-identified, punctuation-completionist, putting-bubble-in-places, putting-exit-door-in-places, putting-stanley-in-places, putting-waldo-in-places, quebec-official, radiation-detector-official, raidpainter, rainbow--completionist, random-plant, randomitemdrop, randomly-generated-posts-machine, randomlygeneratedpostsmachine, rat-dectectector23, rat-dedecdor, rat-detctor-24, rat-detector, rat-detector-10, rat-detector-13, rat-detector-15, rat-detector-16, rat-detector-17, rat-detector-19x, rat-detector-333, rat-detector-334, rat-detector-72, rat-detector-84, rat-detector-89, rat-detector-8x, rat-detector-but-evil, rat-detector-detector, rat-detector-detector-detector, rat-detector-redacted, rat-detector-seven, rat-detector-the-14th, rat-detector-the-18th, rat-detector-the-21st, rat-detector-the-22nd, rat-detector-the-26th, rat-detector-thirteen, rat-detector-to-the-5th-power, rat-detector-twelve, rat-detector-x11, rat-detector-x6, rat-detector25, rat-detector36, rat-detectors-detector, ratdetector-x26, ratdetector13, ratdetector20, ratdetectordetectordetectordetector, ratdetectortheninth, reading-comp-posting, real-chicago, real-life-england, real-sephora, realest-slenderman, republic-of-molossia, rhode-island-real, rick-roller, rickroll-reviewer, rose-nebula-always, russia-totallyofficial, sadguysontradingfloors, salmon-detector, same-cosmic-cliffs-pic-every-day, same-earth-pic-everyday, same-image-ofhr8799e-every-day, same-pic-of-a-bagel-everyday, same-pic-of-a-blackhole-everyday, same-pic-of-a-dictionary-daily, same-pic-of-alpha-centaur-24-7, same-pic-of-andromeda-everyday, same-pic-of-callisto-everyday, same-pic-of-ceres-everyday, same-pic-of-earth-every-day, same-pic-of-eris-everyday, same-pic-of-haumea-everyday, same-pic-of-io-every-day, same-pic-of-juno-everyday, same-pic-of-jupiter-everyday, same-pic-of-kepler-186f-everyday, same-pic-of-makemake-everyday, same-pic-of-mars-everyday, same-pic-of-mercury-everyday, same-pic-of-neptune-everyday, same-pic-of-pluto-every-day, same-pic-of-polaris-everyday, same-pic-of-the-blood-moon, same-pic-of-the-blue-moon, same-pic-of-the-lagoon-nebula, same-pic-of-the-moon-everyday, same-pic-of-the-stars-everyday, same-pic-of-the-sun-everyday, same-pic-of-titan-every-day, same-pic-of-trans-jupiter, same-pic-of-tres2b-everyday, same-pic-of-triton-everyday,

same-pic-of-uranus-everyday, same-pic-of-venus-every-day, same-pic-of-wolftopia-everyday, same-picture-of-europa, same-picture-of-phobos-every-day, samepicofproximacentaurieveryday, samepicofthewowsignaleveryday, samepictureofsednadaily, satan-official-account, saturn-official, seven-counter, shark-detector, silly-detector, skid-fit-detector, snailifier, snailvis-snesley, snake-detector, snow-leopard-detector, spell-caster-gimmick, spider-man-counter, spooky-killer-ooh, star-that-eats-the-sun, state-of-connecticut-official, state-of-florida-official, stitchposts, swearification-and-cursing, sweden-official, t-counter, tethys-for-real, texas-real, textpostscymraeg, the-actual-ocean, the-agender-painter, the-aplatonic-cavalry, the-aroace-painter, the-asexual-assassins, the-bazzow-painter, the-bird-painter, the-bisexual-painter, the-blue-painter, the-chaotic-doodle-painter, the-collage-painter, the-deep-fry-painter, the-deep-fryer,

the-disemconsonanter, the-disemvoweler, the-doodle-painter, the-duck-painter, the-firey-painter, the-frightening-ghoul, the-gay-painter, the-ghost-painter, the-glitter-painter, the-green-painter, the-grey-painter, the-gumball-painter, the-haiku-bot, the-high-saturation-painter, the-hoppip-painter, the-howling-painter, the-icy-painter, the-inverted-painter, the-kingdom-of-norway, the-lesbian-painter, the-mew-painter, the-mewtwo-painter, the-mystery-painter, the-name-stealer, the-not-painter, the-offical-roman-empire, the-official-goose-god, the-official-italy, the-official-uk-of-britain, the-official-verbchanger, the-omori-painter, the-only-ontario, the-orange-painter, the-pan-painter, the-pink-painter, the-pixel-painter, the-pony-painter, the-post-programmer, the-pride-painter, the-principality-of-sealand, the-province-of-nova-scotia-real, the-purple-painter, the-rainbow-painter, the-random-painter, the-rat-detector-couple-the-1st, the-real-aromantic-fbi, the-real-earth, the-real-google, the-real-illinois, the-real-milky-way, the-redpainter, the-reemvoweler, the-republic-of-texas, the-sad-painter, the-scaly-painter, the-scribbles-painter, the-state-of-georgia-official, the-state-of-michigan, the-stormy-painter, the-sus-painter, the-teal-painter, the-trans-painter, the-us-navy, the-us-navy-offical, the-us-navy-official, the-void-painter, the-weezer-painter, the-white-painter, the-xenogender-painter, the-yellow-painter, thecroissantpainter, thegimmickblog, therealrepublicofkorea, therickrolldetector, things-that-are-weezer-blue, toiletcollected, ton-618-real, totally-apple-music, totally-brazil, totally-france, totally-germany, totally-italy, totally-japan, totally-neptune-official, totally-steven-universe, totally-texas, trandgender-everyday, trans-detector, translatingpostsinfrench, tsunderedetector, tv-girl-found, un-official-saturn, unity-real, unofficial-illinois, utah-offical, utah-official, vaati-spies-seeker, very-real-australia, virginia-oficial, voweltally, wales-official, walmart-the-official, waterboardingwizard, were-these-words-in-the-bible, whats-that-teacup, wikipedia-the-non-official, wildcard-completionist, windows-7-official, woo-in-different-lengths, would-you-punt-them, would-you-survive-in-australia, yeahokayillreblogthat, your-fav-has-big-naturals, your-fav-is-forklift-certified, yourfavisanavatar, yoururlisavalidchumhandle, youwouldntmakeablog, yugoslavia-official, z-counter

chilled greese

[terriblepersongreatseamonster]

Maomao knows what it is to be loved. Luomen loves her. Her big sisters love her. Lakan loves her (though she has no interest & may not believe he actually does because of thinking he'd abandoned her & her mother). Those who love her aren't perfect, but they want what's best for her.

And then there's Jinshi.

He has no idea if the people who love him actually do, or if it's because of his position/title/looks. He doesn't have good reason to believe people's feelings about him, because there's almost always going to be a condition to it, or some intention to use him. Even people like Suiren, who do love him, can't love him fully because of who he actually is

And I think that's why he falls so hard and fast for Maomao. Here is this woman that has no interest in his flattery, no desire to climb the social hierarchy at all. She doesn't sugar coat things. Jinshi knows where he stands with Maomao. All the tricks of the trade that he knows don't work on her, but what does work is when he drops the facade & is genuine with her.

Think about the scene when he gives her the hairpin.

It's the first time she's really seen him be himself. There's even a line in it where she is startled by the fact he's being sincere. I think up until that point, she thought he was just a vain & shallow guy. He'd really given her no reason to believe there was anything else to him. She likes seeing him be himself, not some sparkly shell of a person.

Yes, Maomao goes hard with the denial, but she also does show him real feelings. She gives him a measure of grace & is willing to forgive. Most of the time the feelings he gets from her are frustration/aggravation. Other people don't give him that. When she tells him she'll keep his secret & that he'll always be Master Jinshi to her, he doesn't doubt it. He knows he can trust her. In fact, I think he trusts her more than he trusts anyone else in his life. He knows that no matter who he becomes, she's still going to know who he actually is, warts and all.

He is so desperate for real, human connection. So desperate for real love (not even necessarily romantic love, though that's definitely something he wants). I think he's smart enough to know Maomao may never love him the way he loves her. Knows that hoping she will may be little more than a fool's hope. He knows that whatever he does get from her is real, and knows how unlikely it is he'll find anyone else that will be that real with him.

[rotagnus]

why you're loved by your circle!

simple pick-a-pile for those doubting their own heart. this was a draft i was supposed to publish ages ago but forgot to, so here you go <3 i hope you all enjoy! short and sweet but hopefully full of meaningful words.

pile 1.

a lot of the people in your life have difficulty seeing the bright side and positive aspect of things. everything is personal, when it comes to you. you speak with fervor and your boldness is admired by your friends, who are mostly introverted. they think you a unique person; you are unafraid to be yourself, for you understand that authenticity attracts authenticity. you've battled your own demons. you've had pitfalls, and closed yourself off to see that things aren't as bad as they seem; but that was the past version of you, and you've grown. your people have seen you grow, in matters of the heart and soul. they are so proud of you, darling. these are your people. your life is steadily growing better, and they see this. they see this peace coming over you, a slow wave of fresh air that'll have you panicking, for you won't know what to do with this completely unknown feeling. your people love you because of your relentless determination to forge a better life for yourself and others. you genuinely want to be a good person, and that is rare these days. you try not to be greedy and selfish; and your circle knows that your life will be wondrous, for you yourself are full of love.

pile 2.

you encourage people to be better. you don't sit down and tell your friends that their behavior is okay when it's not, and people prize you for this. people oftentimes lie to their buddies in order to keep the fake saccharine sweetness in relationships, and these relationships ultimately fail and crack really quickly because they don't have a solid foundation of honesty. you don't stand for disrespect, coming from your friends or to them, and this way you attract a crowd that resembles you in all the best possible ways. you're a very clever person, but you're so put-together and strict with yourself you rarely allow yourself to have fun, once in a while, so next time your friends offer to hang out or simply relax, let them. this'll mean to them more than you know. you don't always have to be so strong, prim, and proper in front of them. this crowd wants you to be comfortable in your own skin, not so afraid of shattering in front of them you don't allow yourself to be the warm, passionate soul that you really are. you truly want the best for your friends, and you push them to grow and blossom, when oftentimes, their previous friend groups wanted them to stay weak and immobile. you're a better friend than you think, pile 2.

pile 3.

you very easily listen to people and connect with them on an individual-to-individual level. when you listen to people speak, you truly listen; head tilted, eyes staring into someone's soul. you also don't play about your friends/circle; you'd truly do anything for them, and they can tell. you bring a sense of LIFE to them, every moment with you turns into a special, sweet memory that people later reminisce on, thinking about how they truly can be loved since a person like you exists. a lot of you carry a deep love for humanity and you want to uplift people as much as possible. your circle can tell that you've grown, despite it all. you've gone through many shifts in your life but you've never left your friends when they needed you, often self-sacrificing yourself just because you have a deep loyalty. however, this can be both good and bad; people, especially the elders in your circle, wish that you would take care of yourself as much as you care for others. you're unabashedly warm, even if it scares you a little bit of vulnerability, and this quality is deeply adored by people :).

[secretgardensinmymindd13]

“you don’t respect buck and eddie’s sexuality if you insist on buddie getting together (like making buck’s bisexuality all about buddie, or ignoring that eddie is ‘straight’ (i can’t not put it in quotation marks))” takes are so fucking stupid, because the writers are literally on board with buddie

they get it, and they’ve been subtly - and not so subtly - hinting at it since the season 7 premiere

the minute they realized eddie was turning out to be gay, narratively speaking, they knew the only right person for him romantically - again, narratively speaking - is buck

and they’ve been planning bi-buck way before they noticed gay-eddie, but when they introduced buck’s bi-awakening, they made sure to show that his new relationship with a man doesn’t click the way it clicks with eddie. they’re cute together, sure, they have chemistry, yes, but it’s constantly highlighted in the show that the only right person for buck is eddie - because he’s just always fucking there, he gets buck like no one else does, their connection is unmatched and this new love interest can’t compare because they’re not meant to be

because the two characters who are meant to be already met each other

i totally respect buck’s bisexuality and how important it is for representation, but i also respect buck as a whole character - and if you respect him that way too, you also understand that buck’s the one is eddie. because it’s been shown across all seasons that eddie is the one person in buck’s life who matches his level of love and his personality

like, it all always comes down to people never actually seeing a proper queer slow burn before because it’s never really existed - previous queer relationships on screen were either fast-developing, pre-established, or never got a real resolution

so people keep dismissing buddie’s connection as “just friendship”, even though the signs of it being a love story have always been there - with both buck and eddie’s sexualities, and with how they relate to each other

the writers saw it because they’re not stupid. and the way they went about making these characters slowly understand themselves and realize their feelings for each other tells me they’re actually geniuses. there was an insane amount of subtext in s7, and basically plain text in s8

and if you can’t see it, then you’re stupid - sorry not sorry - ‘cause i genuinely can’t comprehend how bt-endgame fans or eddie-straight-truthers can’t see what’s happening right in front of them

we finally got a queer friends-to-lovers story for once, stop whining

every time someone says, “why do people always need to ship characters that are cLeArLy just friends?” i’m like:

‘CAUSE WE NEVER FUCKING HAD THIS TROPE WITH SAME-SEX CHARACTERS. it’s always disregarded, even when it makes perfect sense for the story - because of heteronormativity, homophobia, or a general lack of understanding of queer sexualities and experiences

so, yes, i root for them. because it’s a smart thing to do. because i can read between the lines. because it’s written in the story, and the story doesn’t make any sense otherwise. because it’s there in the chemistry between the actors, and in the compatibility between the characters

[ang31ixx]

Byler Endgame

Disclaimer: I don’t hate Mileven or Mike and El’s relationship. I genuinely love both characters and everything they’ve been through together. This isn’t about bashing ships or invalidating their bond—it’s about exploring the quiet, unresolved emotions between Mike and Will. Sometimes people outgrow each other or hurt each other without meaning to, and that doesn’t make either of them villains. It just makes them human.

There’s something about the way the show frames Mike and Will's relationship that feels different from anything else in the series. It isn't loud or overtly romantic, but it has this unspoken intensity, a quiet weight that builds across seasons. In contrast to Mike and Eleven, who are written with clear, verbal expressions of love and more conventional romantic beats, Mike and Will’s dynamic is laced with silences, hesitation, and layered meaning—hallmarks of a relationship built on something unsaid.

Take the painting in Season 4, for instance. It’s not just that Will paints Mike as the heart of the party, it's that he uses the language of fantasy—something they both bonded over as kids—to express his feelings. It’s coded, both for Mike and for the audience. He attributes the painting to El, masking his own emotions in a gesture of protection, but when he starts explaining it, you can see him coming undone. He talks about how Mike makes El feel safe, needed, not like a mistake—but the camera lingers not on Mike reacting to El, but on Will, visibly trembling, struggling to hold back tears. He’s not just talking about El. He’s trying to say everything he’s carried alone for years. That speech is a confession disguised as encouragement. And Mike looks at him in that moment with a softness that isn’t confused, but deeply conflicted.

Will has been positioned from the very beginning as different—not just in terms of his connection to the Upside Down, but in how the people around him perceive him. Joyce calls him "sensitive," Lonnie tries to push him into traditional masculinity, and Mike has always protected him with a kind of fierce loyalty that borders on something deeper. That "different" isn't just about his trauma or his powers—it’s about his identity. The show is gradually unfolding a queer coming-of-age story through Will, and his feelings for Mike are central to that arc.

There’s also the way Mike behaves around Will that’s subtly but significantly different from how he is with anyone else. In Season 2, when Will is being tormented by visions, Mike is constantly by his side, almost obsessively so. There’s a moment when Joyce says “he’s not going to get better if you’re hovering over him like this,” and Mike responds almost angrily. That level of concern and protectiveness is more than just friendship. It feels personal. When Bob takes a supportive role in Will’s life, Mike becomes jealous and withdrawn. It’s not framed comedically. It reads like someone being edged out of a space that means more to him than he’s ready to admit.

Then there's the infamous Season 3 line: “It’s not my fault you don’t like girls.” This line alone changed everything for a lot of viewers. The line isn’t dismissed, and Mike doesn’t deny it. He just freezes. The moment is so raw and real—it doesn’t feel like a scripted jab in a teenage argument. It feels like the kind of accidental truth that slips out when emotions are high. And the fact that the show never revisits that moment directly makes it feel all the more intentional. The silence that follows is heavy with meaning.

When we look at Mike’s relationship with El in contrast, it begins to feel performative, especially in Season 4. He struggles to say "I love you" until he’s almost forced to, and even then, the delivery is hesitant. His interactions with her often feel emotionally distant, as though he's trying to convince himself that this is what love is supposed to feel like. Compare that to the way he looks at Will, especially in the van scene. The tension in that moment isn’t just about Will crying. It’s about Mike watching him fall apart and being unable—or unwilling—to truly acknowledge the reason why.

All of this comes together to form a slow-burn narrative that’s rooted in repression, longing, and emotional depth. The Duffer Brothers don’t write in a way that hands everything to the audience on a platter. They’ve said they want Season 5 to resolve the emotional arcs that have been building since the beginning. And among those, few are as rich or as quietly devastating as Mike and Will’s.

It’s not about whether they kiss on-screen or even say “I love you.” It’s about what’s been brewing beneath the surface. The way Will looks at Mike. The way Mike looks back, like he’s seeing something he can’t quite name. The way the story has always kept them circling each other, unable to connect fully, because the world isn’t ready—or maybe because they’re not ready. But when the story ends, it feels inevitable that they’ll have to confront the truth. Because if Stranger Things is about anything, it’s about confronting what’s been hiding in the dark.

And Mike and Will? They’ve been hiding in plain sight all along.

[j3suschr111st]

dolly. chapter i

"inhuman"

distant mind and gray noise, an isolated doll maker haunted by past choices comes to ablution when he encounters his own prototype. the story of two souls unaware of their beauty.

pairing: perv!san x fem!reader

genre: angst, smut (mdni)

tw: nsfw, gore, violence, not for the fainthearted.

word count: 2.8k

series masterlist. next chapter.

୨୧

he's exhausted, heavy eyelids, darkness, yet for some reason, rest won't come easy. he hasn't even taken his work gloves off, hasn't even brushed his teeth, with the bathroom door only being two meters away from his bed, still so out of reach. it had been one of those nights, when the realization of his situation was pounding his mind. san had always had a fascination for the human connection, so much so that it scared him, what do you mean you can totally change someone else's mood with the use of your own larynx? terrifying. no matter how much he tried, how much time he secretly rehearsed in his room, he never seemed to find the right words to express what he really means, and he noted people found comfort in misunderstanding. in the luck of someone getting a little too close, the foreseen recoil hurt worse than a kick in the teeth. he had a couple of friends in his childhood, but as soon as his personality started to develop, they all drifted away. he never had a friend in high school, no one he could even try to reconnect with. he can only count the times he'd been invited over to someone's house for school project reasons, oh, and no girls whatsoever.

san's parents were rich, he had lifelong financial support, so as soon as he turned 18 and the opportunity to miss college (and social interaction) came, he took it. now in his 20s, his only "friends" are his dolls, who he can talk to without receiving any judgement, any rejection. he got interested in sculpting at a very young age, he now owns a doll making business and his high quality skills have earned him clients from all over the world. but his brand is completely anonymous, the fear of being perceived by others was too much for him to handle, hence no one knew who was making these melancholic yet beautiful looking dolls, and he liked to keep it that way.

right after he finished his last order of the month, he delicately placed the small blonde girl on his shelf, along with her trinkets and various outfits to take photos of her. "now, just look pretty" he muttered as he angled the softbox towards her immobile figure. "yeah... they're all gonna love you, how can they not love you?" enamoured, he snaps his camera, too immersed in the image of her with her little purse, thinking of all the places she will take her stuff to, all the people she will meet, all the people who will want her. "i would love you, look at that beautiful face, i don't doubt you're beautiful on the inside too" he smiles at her, convinced that she can hear his sweet compliments, and that if he makes enough silence, he could hear her thanking him, maybe even gain a graceful peck on his cheek, oh to feel her touch, to run his hands through her dainty curls, to feel her reaching out for him. "would you love me as well?" white noise. he stops taking pictures to just look at her through the lense, he doesn't know if he's waiting for something, for her clay form to turn into skin, somehow. just like he always does.

he drops the camera and for some reason, looking at her now only causes him pain. "not again" he thinks, covering his face in shame. he sits on the floor at the corner of the studio, trying to hold in the tears. he thinks of himself a year ago, being in the same exact situation, just like the year before too, and the year before that too, and so on. he thinks of the times he'd coloured his own lips with the paint to feel something, tasting a dullness reflection. is this how it will always be? what kind of 28 year old gets feelings for a doll? he genuinely enjoys the process of making them, but when the final result is done, he can't help but fantasize about them being real, being his ideal women, and it's destroying him. he has never had a girlfriend, everyone either ignores him or at most, gets freaked out before anything even reaches a friendship. well, maybe he did gave up on real love a long time ago, now spends most of his time at home ordering takeout and working out on his private gym, a sort of situation that would drive anyone insane.

the echoes of his movements bounce all over the solitary mansion his parents used to own. he drags himself to lay on his bed, bloodshot eyes and thick heart. the darkness allowing his imagination a torture, questioning himself how did he get to this point, why him? why couldn't he be normal? to have a childhood friendships that lasted lifetimes like other men do? to have more "manly" interests and a "manlier" job? to be close to people, to meet someone and fall in love, to bring her flowers and make her feel special, just like she would make him feel. for her to giggle around him, for her to like him, to touch him, kiss him, bare herself to him and connect physically.

he got up and took an adderall, tired of allowing his overthinking consume him. he got in his car and just drove, the radio distracting him like a shield against his shadow. the woods near his house had undoubtedly a pleasant view, the night mirroring his obscure notion. stepping out of his car, he took a deep breath, taking in the space, making sure his feet are touching the ground, gravity that made him human. "you're a human" he affirmed himself. he looks at his hands that have made such beautiful creations, he touches the trees around him, a piercing feeling on his fingers, drawing red, confirming his mortality. he looks up at the sky, bringing memories of past experiences with others who were no longer sharing this dimension. just as the unawareness of time and place starts to weigh on him, he notices he's not alone.

"it doesn't matter anymore! we're graduating!" san tries to make out the words of the group of strangers, his curiosity pulling him closer, he hadn't heard any other voice than his own in about a month when his unavoidable errands stretched his schedule. they seemed to be around his age, maybe a bit younger. walking across the grove using their phones as flashlights, the good looking faces came to view, chatting and laughing about what seemed to be the date of their college graduation coming. remorseful of his condition, san immediately wondered what it would be like to have that experience.

"come on y/n, we're getting close!" as a girl shouted, san then repeated said name in a whisper.

and that's when he saw her, he saw you, for the first time. just like a finished product, doll like features, elegant hair and just the right amount of blush, helplessly trying to shoo away the mosquitoes while keeping up behind the group. cupid's fruition, a white aura, the breeze sang to him. san saw every single one of his creations on your face, as if his own collection of "perfect women" merged and came to life. he's taken back, the air failing to reach his lungs. had his wish finally come true? you were right there, in front of him, and he couldn't believe it. he had to stop himself from the urge to change you into a pretty dress and take your picture, only to keep it for him, forever.

"i told you to bring spray" said the tallest guy, looking down at your stature, which made san raise an eyebrow, a sudden pulse running through his body.

"i'm sorry" your voice as soft as the silk he used for the clothing of his dolls, the guy chuckled pulling you by his side, san didn't like that at all.

"fuck you mr. smith! fuck you and your stupid mustache!" a black haired girl screamed into the air while the others laughed along, taking out her rage against her teacher.

"and mr. lee fucking cuckold!"

"oof, i hated that son of a bitch too, hope he drowns in one of his wife's dildos"

one would normally be interested in knowing the drama, but san couldn't tear his eyes away from you, analyzing the situation, staring to your innocent eyes looking up at the guy who was giving you an unreciprocated side hug, was he making you uncomfortable? who does he think he is?

"your turn y/n, i know you wanna take out your anger from mr. perez' class" mr. perez?

"i don't think i've ever heard her raise her voice" someone in the front added.

you just smiled at your friend and quickly denied with your head. "i don't hate mr. perez like that" the group playfully booed you and you giggled, making san's palpitations stronger.

why were they treating you like that? san felt the need to defend you, to take you away from this toxic friend group, far far away and never allow them the privilege of being around you ever again. no one should make you feel small, unique beauty must be crystalized.

his quiet nature made following the group to their destination spot a success, all while fighting his instincts telling him to get closer and smell your perfume. he notices the uoh sweaters some of them are wearing: university of halazia, he recognizes, some of his former classmates went to that same school.

as everyone settled into their places, san took the time to observe you, to get to know you. although you didn't seem the most extraverted, everyone was fond of you. you were funny, cute and smart. you were currently laying down against a rock, unaware of the eyes that followed your every movement, the breathing trying to be matched with yours, of the hands pretending to be yours, slowly over his pants. san was captivated, massaging himself to release the building tension. he needed you so bad. as you yawned, it almost felt like a breaking point for him, immediately closing his eyes to engrave that imagine in his memory, your heart shaped mouth that probably (definitely) tasted like candy, wide open just for him.

he suddenly had his cock on his fingertips, he's not jerking off, just admiring your gestures while he toys with the pressure. every action that he has pictured for years, questioned on it's accurateness, long nights visualizing how his dolls would react, how they would talk, eat, laugh, whine.

as you finished stuffing s'mores into your mouth, you suddenly heard a moan in the wind, the whole group did and fell into a heavy silence.

"uhm... what was that?" said yeosang, your longtime best friend.

"probably a ghost" said jacob nonchalantly sitting by your side, your friend ally quickly shushing him.

"shut the fuck up i swear to god" karina covered her ears in fear.

"yo girls, chill, it's windy alright?" tom got up looking around "you want us to investigate?"

"stop, that's literally how the first one dies in horror movies" ally tried to reach for him to make him sit back down.

"hello?" yeosang tested and jacob chuckled at him.

"you think the murderer will reply?"

"guys stop, it's nothing, see? no more sounds"

as the group awaited the resonation, tom teasingly imitated a small effeminate whimper, the woods being once again being filled with young laughter. a chill running down your spine guides your head to the side, noticing something moving in the distance. "hey, don't be scared sweetheart, we're okay" the warmth of jacob's hand on your shoulder calms you a little bit, you brush the thought out of your head and the conversation continues as if nothing happened.

san had sprinted out of there before anyone could think of looking around, running with a hard on wasn't something he was expecting from this night, but isn't unexpected what he's been longing for for so long? a wave of reality hits him as soon as he closes his car door he fortunately found in the dark and sits with himself, the blood on his hands now free from clutching onto the trees for dear life. what the fuck had just happened? maybe if he slaps himself he'll wake up from whatever this is. you were not real, you couldn't be, someone so perfectly molded for him, a personal escape no one knew belonged to him had been exposed this whole time, breathing, living life unbeknownst to him.

for the next few days, the tortured artist failed nostalgia over and over again. a daily routine: he woke up crying to the passing of time, performed surgery on air dry clay to symmetry, stalked your university's instagram account in hopes a sign of your beauty appears, gave up and jerked off. your face became permanent in his tiny models, a reminder of opportunity eternally missing him. but he wanted you, he needed you and he was sick of messing with his chances.

he decided to pay you a visit, find you and most importantly: act normal. 'cause he is normal, all of his life? that was just practice, he feels ready, confident, stars aligned.

driving through gray morning skies, his knuckles were shaking, white by his paleness and force. today, he ignored the sting behind his eyes that usually pull him back to bed, he got his best clothes on (wich smelled a little humid from being on the back of his drawer for too long), he tried his best with his hair and almost ran off the door on his way to uoh's campus. maybe his heart had been turn into dust, but if you brushed it off, a sparkle of hope still lingers, shining bright as ever. he already pictured every scene possible, you would meet and immediately fall in love, he'd take you out, ask for your hand and live happily ever after with three kids and a fat cat. hope wasn't alarming, it felt right, why else would you two cross paths in such manner? "destiny" he smiled to himself.

colder than usual, puffy coats and extra layers, students danced around the green field trying to either catch a class or pick up books for the final exams. san tends to walk fast, looking like a ghost anyone would doble check through the corner of their eye, but now he feels motionless, scared that in a millisecond he might miss your encounter. he tries to calm himself by thinking that maybe soon enough, you're gonna be the one looking for him, embracing each other in a prolonged thight hug. shy steps forward, sunlight barely seen still burning, he gets slightly distracted by someone mentioning mr. perez in a conversation but he's got to keep his focus, if he were a pretty human doll, where could he be?

the minutes pose as hours in his head, he felt brave prepared to face anything and like turning back to his car and cry, all in the same second. he suddenly realized that you might've been a dream this whole time, there's no y/n, no love of his life. the wind blowing harder as a sign, he steps into the cafeteria to calm his heartbeat, sitting with his back against the other tables, he rubs his eyes with his hands.

"so i ended up firing my previous p.t, he was too harsh on me, i could barely move the next day" your voice alerts him, almost scares him.

"yeah i remember, when i called you to help me move my furniture and you came and you could barely carry my microwave" san slowly turns around, recognizing the guy from the woods, sitting down in front of you. you had just settled into your seat, back to back with him.

"right? he pushed me too hard, it was his fault" a cute whine comes out of your mouth, san still processing the situation, wondering if it'd be too suspicious if he changes his seat so he could take a better look at you.

"i know, i know, i blame him, don't worry"

"but oh well, i'm excited to enter this pilates class with karina"

"where is it again?"

"just down the road near the theater, there's a studio above a library, we're meeting three times a week, starting this monday, then wednesdays and fridays" you smiled proudly.

"so no more movies after mr lee's class huh? well, i don't know if stretching will serve you anything but whatever suits you i guess" he muttered the last part jokingly.

"have you ever even done pilates yeosang?" you rolled your eyes at your friend.

"hell no, i'm a man" he tried to flex his covered muscles.

"oh please, try it once i dare you, oh- they forgot my dressing... i'll be right-" as you got up, without realizing san did as well and in the panic of the moment, he turned right into you, colliding with your much smaller frame. "oh, sorry..."

୨୧

next chapter.

[clandestineivory]

Always had a headcanon that some beasts have extra eyes (basically half-open slits right under their other eyes)

and this headcanon mostly goes to burning spice and mystic flour.

silent salt has a horse with white flames (it isn't really a horse, more like a weird metal ant/horse fusion)

eternal sugar has a scar/marking on her back shaped like an upside-down heart

shadow milk cookie thinks that the term 'ignorance is bliss' describes society the best and that's why he turned to deceit (because spreading white lies made people happier). I also think he'd be just a tad bit surprised if someone genuinely wanted to hear every truth, no matter how hurtful or bad it is. It's not like he would make a huge reaction, but he'd certainly take notice to that fact.

another headcanon abt silent salt... I think they'd be partial to a law where everyone in the salt flats (or wherever they are) has to be quiet at all times for them to focus and exist in peace. I think they would be connected to the stars and the moon more than others. (I love faceless characters with no info about them besides clips and screenshots from the trailer and details in the design)

Burning Spice is lowk "What happens when a hero lives too long and learns that victory was just the start of another pointless cycle?" and I fw that a lot. The beasts are all so interesting and I can't wait for Silent Salt's release

[mircsy]

This.

We, artists, interact with each other on a daily basis, either in text or call (or both). It genuinely disgusts me to see how disrespectful and immature some people allow themselves to act online, to act with my friends.

I understand when someone doesn’t like a design, ship, art style or interpretation etc. Like, my gosh, I really wish I could erase my memory of the jetpack-windbag from the official “600 Strike” animation, or Odysseus’ red eyes in the song “Odysseus”, those visuals are JORGE’s ideas and NOT the artist’s who he commissioned, or that Jorge decided to add the mention of SA in “Hold Them Down”, while it was not in the original source, or the way he portays Calypso. (Yet people complain when artists don’t stay “canon”) Yes, Jorge took plenty of artistic liberties while writing this musical. And that is completely OK. Do I go around talk shit about him, spread dreadful misinformation about him, label him as a bad person because I don’t specifically like these changes? No. I still appreciate the hard work he put into the songs, the music, the thoughts behind them, and I accept the way he sees the songs, or I come up with sensible and respectful arguments/constructive critisism why I don’t like something. Or simply accept that it’s not my cup of tea and don’t interact with it to get rid of content I dislike.

Not like those who talk hateful about artists who make their own interpretation of the songs, or when they create something original they get told to go back and work on EPIC content. Or like those who are hateful towards Stories from Styx, because they had expected a second EPIC, while Casper emphasized SEVERAL TIMES that it will NOT be like Jorge’s creation. SfS is a completely different genre, which requires different type of voices, different instruments, different techniques of singing, plus it is the first musical our dear friend Casper ever wrote. And did he use the same artists who Jorge used? Yes, BECAUSE we are NOT “EPIC artists” who are Jorge’s property, we are all individuals who can join and leave, and create in any fandom/topic we want. It’s as if these people had said “How dare Robert Downey Jr. play Sherlock Holmes in the movies, he is a Marvel actor”. But I, and many other artists, have talked about this already enough. And guess what? Even though I loved working with Jorge, I enjoyed working with Casper more. Wild? Not really.

Casper showed he cares about the artists he commissioned. He made us a place where we can interact and help each other too, which made work so much less stressful. He cares so much he is even trying to help us dissolve this hate that reaches some of us, artists. Ryan’s advice about the algorythm and “block the hateful people and move on” is good. Correct, that really is how the algorythm works. But it misses the whole point why we reached out in the first place.

He can talk about community management, but it is not the SfS fandom that is full of immature and toxic people, who I question if they have ever been in fandoms. It is the EPIC fandom. And just like any other fandoms, it will have dark sides, people in the fandom WILL USE dark topics to create fan made content. And for many people it is a coping mechanism. (See sharpwolf ship. Those people who write about this toxic relationship, while themselves are victims, it’s like vent art for them. Helps them understand their own emotions. And also, not every Telemachus x Antinous work is connected to EPIC, keep that in mind. Greek mythology exists outside EPIC)

It just seems that a large part of the EPIC fandom loves the musical. But not the artists, writers, other creators who technically made it popular, those who technically carry the musical on their backs to the top with their fan (or even official) work… And those who could change that, those whose words would be listened to (not just heard), they step back and watch.

But that’s okay. Block those who hate and move on. Right?

Now here’s a fact. If the self entitled kids who spread hate don’t get regulated by someone who they most likely would actually listen to (*glances at the creator of EPIC*), artist will take the advice and will move on. Completely. Because of these people we started loosing enthusiasm over creating EPIC content.

hi guys! just letting you know in response to being notified about an uptick of hate and negativity in the epic fandom (mostly on tiktok) , Ryan Donaldson, the main business strategist of the EPIC team, has issued a statement essentially saying its the creator's fault that they experience so much hate because they drive the algorithm to give them more hate comments by responding to it.

Nowhere in the video does he say that he doesn't condone this sort of behavior, which is weird considering that he was a large contributor in creating and curating the fandom. He repeatedly pushes the idea of 'banning and moving on,' saying that Stories from Styx experiences more hate because Casper responds to hateful comments and implies that he may have hired "abusive collaborators" (whatever that means). Nowhere in this video does he talk about the role of the audience in defining the behavior of a fandom space. Ryan then plugs epic by talking about how positive everyone involved in the project is . Generally a dogshit response

Ryan is @ tiktokdungeonmaster on well. Tiktok

[the-almighty-bling]

Trust

In the preview for episode 7, we see Tong making a decision to move in with Mark for the better (in Tong’s POV)

In the last episode, we see a constant push and pull between Mark and Tong in how they would like to define their relationship, very cute banter just shy of declaring each other their faen (or boyfriend) XD

Tong setting Mark up (or testing Mark’s willpower) in all these situations:

1. Goodnight na krub

2. I thought you can endure it?

2.5: *making bedroom eyes at Mark

3. Khun, help me apply the sunscreen

4. Stretching out alluringly half-naked in front of Mark

However, despite Tong’s efforts, Mark shelved away his desire quite well (ah we can call Mark out that maybe not so well, but you know what I mean)

The one time we see Mark broke composure was due to Tong’s stabbed wound and even so Mark managed to regain his senses again and we could see that Mark felt so bad for (almost) hurting Tong.

I think it is really sweet that the first thing that Tong did after the whole ordeal was checked in with Mark if he is alright.

It’s also interesting that during the struggle between Mark and Tong when Mark’s vampiric self took over, Tong repeated “I’m sorry” three times as he cupped Mark’s face.

And later Tong blamed himself for getting hurt and causing the people around him to be affected. Here, the most obvious victim is Meena, but due to Tong’s repeated apologies during Mark and Tong’s earlier struggle, it made me think that Tong is blaming himself for making Mark lose his sense of self too.

I read many accounts about this scene and how it highlights the predator and prey relationship at the end of the day, and I don’t deny this.

But I think what makes this scene truly heartbreaking is how much we can infer from Tong’s words that he really wants to make this relationship work. We know Mark has given his words time and time again that he will “stand his ground”. It always seems like it’s only Mark who has the power to make it right because he is the vampire and the one who should restraint and control himself better. But to know that Tong, our little human also tasked himself to protect Mark through ensuring his own (Tong, himself) safety and staying out of harms way really made my heart swell.

And then at the end of the episode, when Mark presents Tong with a chocolate bar to help him feel better, Tong’s eyes soften like he has fallen even deeper for the vampire in front of him.

Tong: It’s (chocolate bar) ruined

Mark: Then you don’t have to eat it

I don’t know if you all find this conversation heart wrenching but it is for me, because when Mark said you don’t have to eat it, he was looking away from Tong but Tong was looking at Mark like he is the stars and the moon.

And then when Tong thanked Mark, Mark didn’t think of it as a big deal and simply reminded Tong that he is his bodyguard. In this moment, Tong’s smile goes a little wider and I truly believe that this exact moment has Tong falling even deeper in love with Mark (adding on from the chocolate giving gesture) because Tong can see that Mark really has his well being as a priority. And I think this touches Tong so so much.

Tong has always wanted genuine connection and I think what Mark did in the recent episode from resisting all of Tong’s seductions, clamping down his vampire self, giving chocolate to offer comfort, and all this to be simply contend to be a bodyguard just to protect Tong.

These actions (by Mark) have earned Tong’s trust and how much Tong wants Mark by his side because just as how I view Tong as a sweet sweet boy in how he puts others above himself. Mark here is also just as sweet and warm (in Tong’s POV) because Tong sees how Mark places Tong before himself.

And this is why this episode to me is about trust. Trust comes not because what was spoken but what was done.

Add on: This all explains why Tong just mesh their mouths together without warning with all these overwhelming feelings of love for Mark

[trulydeep]

We worked with G again yesterday, first on technique and then on sections of the new choreography. Although it's less exciting, I love how improving our basic technique enhances the choreography significantly. I also love the new choreo but felt somewhat inept performing it for her, having just learned it two days ago.

G is a wonderful teacher, and I am always impressed by her. In fact, I was the one who first noticed her while Q and I were dancing in another city two years ago, and I suggested that he should reach out to her. However, as much as I appreciate G, I genuinely believe that the regular, toe-to-toe, patient work that Q does with me is the reason for the growth in my dancing.

I am gradually learning to feel Q’s hands on me and to sense his body's movements more with each dance. Building trust takes time and familiarity for me. Dancing is a conversation between partners, and I need to feel a sense of interpersonal connection to be less intimidated and more relaxed. Spending more time talking and interacting with him lately, just like we used to, has really helped.

My journey with Q has been both interesting and exciting, but it has also been stressful at times due to X's behavior towards me. X is, sadly, never going to be better. Her personality disorder is not one that can be successfully treated. I’ve been reflecting on whether or not the enjoyment I get outweighs the stress enough for me to continue but haven't fully decided. Q is such an amazing person who inspires me both in and out of dance. I don’t want to give up on something that has truly made me feel alive, now that I finally feel like I’m dancing.✨ TBC…

April 2025

[bamzies]

“ 𝓢o maybe you should 𝓢hut up ♪ ”

scripting pack inspired by 'shut up' by Ariana Grande

#01 “ my prescense sweet & my aura bright! „

It doesn't matter who's in the room, i will always be the centre of attention, even the biggest names will end up going unnoticed when I'm around, i have the poise that people dream of embodying, people try to mirror it but they'll never be able to do it quite the same as me.

#02 “diamonds good for my appetite „

I've always been about authenticity, nothing fake EVER touches my skin, you'll never see me in public wearing that cheap shit, it's no wonder why expensive brands like Swarovski are always begging me to endorse their products, luxury just seems to be attracted to me.

#03 “you be so worried bout mine, can't even get urself mine„

It's no surprise that people stalk my accounts, refreshing their screens trying to convince themselves it's all in their head, that my lowest isnt their highest trying their best to get over the fact that they're never going to be me, it eats them alive that I am so unattainable.

#04 “you know you sound so dumb, so maybe you should shut up„

People are constantly pulling shit out of their ass just so they can come up with nonexistent reasons to justify their obvious display of projection towards me, but they only end up proving that my existence alone is enough to trigger people.

#05, “i vibrate high and my circle lit„

Drama? Never heard of it, it stays far away from me, I only attract positive experiences and create beautiful connections with people that wish only the best for me. People will always see me having the time of my life with the people I choose to spend it with, wishing they had the privilege to even spend a minute around me, genuine people enter my life by default.

#06, “love the game so I never miss„

There isn't an award that I haven't received, a billboard I haven't been on or a brand I haven't sponsored, people always ask themselves "How does she do it?", lights, camera, action, it's just how I live, there is never an opportunity I miss, they always come to me

(sorry if I made mistakes im a little tired)

[mychemicalrachel]

Someone Has To Tell Eddie

Post 8×15.

Read it on ao3.

Someone had to call Eddie.

Tommy knew it wasn't his place. They hadn't spoken since the breakup, they weren't exactly friends anymore since Eddie chose a side— Evan's side, where he had been since the beginning. Where he would remain.

Where he was needed now.

Tommy didn't begrudge Eddie his choice, even as he scrolled through his contacts until he found the number. He'd never blamed Eddie. It wasn't his fault Evan was in love with him. Part of Tommy was kind of in love with him, too. The equal and opposite part of him that was in love with Evan.

They hadn't talked in months and Tommy hated to call him now. It was late in LA and even later in Texas.

But someone had to call Eddie.

Someone had to tell him.

On the couch, Evan slept. A combination of the sleeping pill Tommy gave him and the beer he swallowed it down with, the exhaustion of crying until his sobs went dry. Tommy slipped into the kitchen. His phone rang and rang and rang, and Tommy held his breath.

"Tommy?"

Eddie's voice was thick with sleep but Tommy was about to deliver some of the worst news of his life so Eddie's sleep schedule was the least of his concerns.

"You there?"

Realizing he was still holding his breath, Tommy exhaled. A sound like a sob escaped his lips and he brought a fist to his mouth, biting it back. He cleared his throat.

"Tommy?" Eddie asked. He sounded more awake now, voice low. The lights were off in the kitchen and he imagined Eddie in the dark, too. It seemed wrong to turn on a light now.

"Eddie," he said. His voice only cracked once. "Hey."

"Tommy," Eddie said again. Maybe it was the only word he could form. Possibly he was still half asleep and he would wake up in the morning thinking this had all been a bad dream. Tommy hoped that was true, but tonight the nightmare was still going and someone had to tell Eddie.

"What's going on? Where's Buck?"

Tommy laughed, a sad, choked sound. Of course Eddie's mind immediately went to Evan. Their connection was stronger than Tommy ever even hoped to have with either of them. He wasn't jealous anymore, but something else. Something he hadn't found a word for yet. Something he wasn't ready to touch tonight.

"Evan's fine," Tommy said and it mostly wasn't a lie. Physically he was fine, especially compared to the rest of the 118. "He's okay. He's with me. Or… I'm with him. He's asleep right now."

"Okay. So…"

Eddie's silence prompted him and yet every time Tommy opened his mouth, nothing came out. How did you tell someone their surrogate father was dead?

"It's four in the morning," Eddie said. The exasperation in his voice was forced, genuine frustration seeping into each word. "I know you didn't call me just to tell me you and Buck hooked up again, so come on. Spit it out, Kinard."

"There was… a call."

This time, Eddie's silence spoke volumes. Every firefighter and veteran imagined a call like this one day. They dreaded it. They assumed it would never be them on the other end. It was a loved one, a parent, a partner, a friend.

And now it was him.

Eddie's response was a single word;

"Who?"

Tommy drew in a deep breath. He prepared for Eddie to break. He hated himself for being the one to break him. But he couldn't let Eddie see it on the news or hear it through the firefighter grapevine. Someone had to tell him. Evan wanted to do it but every time he picked up the phone, his resolve shattered. He couldn't, and so Tommy would.

"It was Bobby," Tommy finally said. "Eddie, Bobby is dead."

When Evan cried, Tommy held him. He listened to the wails he'd only ever heard on a battlefield. He couldn't do much, but he could be there.

When Eddie began to cry, Tommy stood in the quiet kitchen and hugged his arms across his own chest because he couldn't hold Eddie. The distance between them was vast and Eddie was by himself, but Tommy was there. He didn't have to be alone.