#p nation crush

[psychicreadsgirl]

Hello! Can you analyze CRUSH and Joy's relationship?

I feel they're still in the honeymoon stage of their relationship (esp for him). Joy can be kind of capricious and sometimes she can be kind of unreasonable for her demands. Joy is used to being treated very well by others likely due to her beauty (for the most part), and so she expects Crush to go above and beyond for her. In a way she knows that she's the good looking one and he is not as good looking as here, so in a way deep down she feels like he has to make up for that in other ways (like she could have gotten in a relationship with someone more good looking and famous or rich but then settled with him). Joy expects a lot from him emotionally. I see him having to do a lot just to make her happy (not just gifting things but rushing to her when she wants him to). He's happy to do these things now and he's quite considerate/thoughtful towards her. He's also quite romantic, but as time goes on, her need to be treated constantly like a princess can get tiring for him. In a way, he did make her become this way because he enabled that sort of behavior too, so it's not 100% her fault.

I also feel that Crush being inspired by Joy can be harmful to the relationship sometimes. Sometimes she doesn't want him to expose so much about their relationship on air. Joy wants to keep things a bit on the quiet side, but Crush can't help but want to share his love for her and their lovely moments. Sometimes they can argue because of this.

I also get the sense that Crush's friends feel that he is too preoccupied with Joy sometimes like he doesn't really make time for his friends anymore. Most of his time is spent with Joy when he's free or he has to leave earlier from events bc of Joy, so they aren't super fond of her. They don't hate her, but I don't see them loving her a lot like bffs.

I do get some sort of disapproval of Crush from Joy's family. They feel that Joy can do better than him. They don't want them to be married at all because they don't think that Crush can provide Joy with the lifestyle that she wants. Crush, in a way, feels compelled to prove himself by doing more for Joy or perhaps even taking on more work to earn more $. He may write more songs or do more endorsements than before or go on more shows, which can in the long run stress himself too much physically and mentally. It's also possible for him to take on debt like credit card debt/loans just to fulfill that luxurious lifestyle that he wants to give Joy and himself.

While they have some chances of marriage from now till 2026, I don't see those as being particularly high. They do have chances of breaking up between now and 2026. If they do get married, they will likely struggle when they start to live together. They have very different ideas about spending and parenting. Crush will also feel a lot of pressure from Joy's family.

[kanyniablue]

california, you’re a hole in my heart

[khiphopflipflop]

Crush (Shin Hyo-seob)

[soneprincess]

crush has been hitting lately. i hate to admit that i have been sleeping on him

[lionhearttt]

Crush (크러쉬) - ‘ㅠ.ㅠ (You)’ Track Video

[st4rg8te]

Twisted Affections (GL) (P. 1)

Yandere! Emperor's Mistress X Empress! Reader

✦✧✦✧

The lessons that had been instilled in you since birth resurfaced in your mind: ‘The Mother of the Nation should be dignified, elegant, and composed. She should never show any sign of weakness in front of her subjects.’ 

But you couldn’t help but break in her embrace.

✦✧✦✧

P. 2: x

[tw: adultery, s*xism, slight description of blood/injury]

✦✧✦✧

Your marriage with your husband—the Emperor, was a cold and loveless one, devoid of any warmth or affection. 

The two of you were betrothed to each other at a young age for the sake of politics. You were the daughter of an influential duke, while he was the heir to the throne. To the gaze of others, it had seemed like the perfect match. 

You had once thought the same. Hoping that the differences between the two of you would find a resolution in the arrangement, but that wish gradually withered away, unfulfilled. 

What could you do but silently endure the circumstances you were placed in? Until now, you had always maintained the perfect facade expected of an Empress.

As the years passed, the weight of responsibility overshadowed the absence of love in your marriage, settling deep within you as resigned acceptance.

But deep down, a small, naive part of you still wished for a happy ending with your prince charming, like in all those fairy tales your mother had once read to you before she died.

Your parents’ marriage had also been an arranged one, but as a little girl, you remembered the way your father would look at your mother as if she had hung all the stars in the sky. Perhaps one day, your husband would look at you in the same way?

It was simply too bad that this small hope of yours had been mercilessly crushed the moment your husband brought her home.

The sight of them together made your stomach twist into knots, and your words were caught in your throat. You felt your hands tremble as you clutched the silky fabric of your gown, trying to maintain a steady composure.

She was beautiful, with flowing blond locks and bright blue eyes that sparkled in the sunlight filtering through her delicate skin.  Although dressed in a simple gown that marked her status as a commoner, she exuded the grace and elegance of a noble princess.

A faint smile played on her lips as she laughed lightly with your husband, and he returned her smile with an equally warm one.

Why had he never smiled at you like that before?

“Her Majesty has arrived!” announced the servant behind you, and only then, did the lovers part.

Your eyes met bright baby blue ones. Her face lit up with excitement and delight as she took several steps toward you before stopping abruptly, realizing she was in front of the Emperor's wife.

Her eyes widened, and she immediately fell into a curtsy. Her dress rustled softly as her head dipped lower, revealing the graceful lines of her neck and arms.

The action made your lips twitch.

"G-greetings, Your Majesty! I've been looking forward to meeting you." Her voice held a slight tremor as she spoke.

She seemed younger than you, an edge of innocence that stirred people's protectiveness under her words—it served as another bitter reminder that the man you married did not belong to you.

You ignored her gaze boring into you; instead, turning your eyes back to your husband.

Your tone was icy, "What is this?"

"Lucia is going to live at the palace." He replied smoothly.

A hazy sense of familiarity washed over you once you heard her name come out of his mouth, but that was quickly forgotten with his next words:

"I intend to make her my concubine."

"What?" Your breath hitched sharply. "Why was I not informed of this sooner?"

He furrowed his brows in disapproval, "I do not need to explain my decisions to you. Do not get ahead of yourself."

"Have you not thought about what others would think—"

"Is that all you worry about?”

“Excuse me?”

“You have failed in your duty as my wife, for four years, you have not bore me a single child. It was about time someone else took care of it."

The harshness of his words cut through you like a blade, leaving you momentarily speechless. He continued, unperturbed by your silence, "My decision is final. I expect you, as the Empress, to give her suitable accommodations and see that she gets properly educated and trained."

You suddenly felt the urge to laugh, a humorless scoff ripping from your mouth as a cold fury burned within you. Shaky fingers curled tightly against your palm until it drew blood.

Your voice was hollow.

"I have important matters to attend to. Enjoy your stay, Lady Lucia."

Without waiting for an answer, you turned on your heel and strode out the grand corridors. The entourage of servants silently trailing behind you.

The sound of thundering steps echoed throughout the halls, but you had never felt as lonely as you did in that moment.

✦✧✦✧

Soon, word had spread quickly of Lucia's arrival as the Emperor's new concubine.

Even your family had heard the news. You were quickly met with a wrathful letter from the Duke, shaming you for losing to another woman—a commoner, no less.

For days, you had remained alone in your chambers. Rereading the scathing remarks written on the crumpled letter over and over again. Your father’s scorn a heavy burden on your already weary shoulders.

But what could you do? The Emperor's actions were beyond your control. It wasn't unheard of for a monarch to take lovers, and in some ways, even expected.

And the task of ignoring the jeers and taunts behind your back was becoming increasingly harder. In order to distract yourself, you began to drown yourself in the your duties.

"—They say Her Majesty is infertile. If that's true then here's no doubt about it; she'll be replaced by that new girl soon."

"—She's growing older each day, but there is still no sign of a child being conceived. Of course His Majesty would become tired of her."

"Poor thing."

Humiliation coiled in your gut like a snake. Behind you, your personal maid, Mary, spoke up, her voice filled with indignation on your behalf.

"Your Majesty, I'll go teach them a lesson—"

"No need," You replied, with a composed exterior, you continued walking. "Let's go."

As your husband had requested, you provided Lucia with everything he had asked for: servants, new gowns, jewelry, and suitable living quarters (which you ensured were as far away as possible from your residence). The lavish gifts and living space were more than generous, a testament to your patience.

You had also ensured that her presence would be kept minimally invasive to your daily life. Hopefully, the only times you would encounter her were on formal occasions, and nothing else.

At least that was what you had wished for, but it seemed that fate had a cruel way of playing tricks on mortals.

From the corner of your eye, a hint of blonde hair caught your attention. You halted in your steps as Lucia's face came into view, accompanied by a small group of her attendants.

‘Why was she here?’

The sight was enough to put you on edge; the last person you wanted to see right now was your husband's mistress.

She wore a delighted expression on her face as the group made their way toward you, "Your Majesty! I've been looking for you.”

Before you could respond, Mary stepped forward and quickly curtsied before the blonde woman, a hint of unfriendliness in her tone:

"Lady Lucia, how can we help you?"

An indiscernible emotion flashed across Lucia's eyes before she smiled again.

"I wanted to thank Her Majesty for all the help she has given me, and was going to invite her for tea."

Was she testing your patience on purpose? You couldn't believe your ears.

"Her Majesty has important business to attend to. Perhaps we could arrange another time." Mary suggested firmly. 

But the blonde woman ignored Mary’s words, and turned her expectant gaze towards you instead. You remained composed, offering Lucia a polite smile that did not quite reach your eyes.

"I appreciate the kind gesture, Lady Lucia. But perhaps another time.”

Lucia's smile faltered, and she slowly nodded her head, "I see... I'm sorry if I'm bothering you,"

You made a mental note to instruct the guards later not to let her wander around freely anymore. Seeing her every day would likely ruin your mood even more.

"—But,"

Shocked gasps rose from the attendants around you.

“My lady!”

Lucia paused, then her delicate fingers lifted the hem of her gown to reveal the crimson-stained slippers underneath. The blood had seeped through, staining her pristine white stockings a dark, ominous shade of red.

Your eyes widened in shock. Unaccustomed to the sight of blood, the gory display was enough to send shudders down your spine.

"Lady Lucia... What is the meaning of this?" You demanded, your voice trembling slightly as an unsettling feeling began to settle in the pit of your stomach.

Lucia's eyes were wide, and her lips curved up into a serene smile, "It wouldn't hurt Her Majesty to join us this once."

Her voice rang out, sickeningly sweet:

"I only wish to repay you. It would be a shame for His Majesty to hear about his beloved concubine getting injured in the Empress' own quarters. Wouldn't you agree, Your Majesty?"

✦✧✦✧

[leeknow-thoughts]

𝅄  ׅ⊹ ۪ ꣑୧ dance of the sugarplum fairy

𝝑𝝔 l.mh x f!reader

𝝑𝝔 synopsis : Minho believes in fact over fiction. He's a scientist. It's practically in his blood. You're as much of a scientist as he is, hell, a better one than him at that. Yet, you still find wonder in the holidays. While you find wonder in presents and twinkling lights. Minho finds wonder in you. Could a confession gone wrong end up going right for him? Could you reciprocate his feelings that he's been pushing down for years and years?

𝝑𝝔 warnings : chemistry professor!minho, chemistry professor!reader, f!reader, mutual pining, christmas in a non-religious way, crying (in a sappy way), jisung! cameo, tooth rotting fluff, smut got mixed in with my fluff??, no clear dynamics, but minho is mommy (sorry guys act fucking surprised), mommy!kink, shower sex, p in v (unprotected, pls don't do this!!), pet names, pls lmk if I missed any warnings!!

𝝑𝝔 note from the author ! : Calliope once again indulges in soft!minho and doesn't apologize for it >_< I hope everyone is having a wonderful holiday season and that all who celebrate Christmas get exactly what they wanted!! :3

You're as reactive as Fluorine, and Minho wishes he didn't think of you chemically the way he does. He wishes he didn't immediately think of you when he thought of work and his experiments and the fucking teaching position he held. He wishes he could just think of you for you and he could go fuck off for all he cares - having a crush on his coworker.

And you're humming along to the song playing over the radio - some Clario song, he only knows who that is because you love her music. Honestly, he thinks you like music more than you like chemistry - so why did you choose to do this for a living?

You surely weren't a bad singer - Minho had heard you sing, it puts the harked herald angels to shame if he does say so - and you certainly were pretty enough to be famous.

Pretty was an understatement, you were the most devine creation to walk this earth. There's no way in his mind that he can conceptualize that you breathe the same oxygen as him - to him it was a privilege that he got to see you at all.

You were sought after, every fucking college in the nation wants you to work for them, yet you stay here. It wasn't like the place you work at is bad, it's MIT for Christ's sake, but Harvard has been asking for you for years.

He's almost offended by it, colleges treating you and all your brilliance like a tradeable Pokémon card.

Speaking of Pokémon, you're watching it on your phone as you finish up a lab report. How you can listen to music and watch a show and write a detailed report baffles Minho, but he doesn't question you because you're you, and he's the utter fool in love with you.

"You're spacing out Minho," your voice graces his ears, fuck, was he staring at you? "You look like you need a coffee, let's go get a cup, I'll pay."

You smile that sweet smile and talk in your sweet voice any longer and he's sure he's going to go insane. You're letting your hair down and it falls just right, framing your face perfectly. You had curled it that morning, and worn a perfume that smells like autumn.

He knows it's ridiculously foolish to consider something a chance that is nothing but stolen glances and blush stained cheeks and private thoughts. He can't help it.

"I think Jisung needs to start letting you get some sleep, you're zoning out so much," you hum with such concern, and he crumbles.

He feels almost dirty. Dirty for the thoughts he has of you. Dirty for the reason he isn't getting much sleep. Thinking about you in ways that would terrify a Catholic, or hell, even an atheist.

"'t's not Jisung," he slurs his words together.

They become a wet mix of vowels and articulations when he's talking to you. He hopes he doesn't sound this fucking dumb when he is teaching.

"Maybe you're sick," you tilt your head.

It's a habit you have, tilting your head when you make a statement. He finds it endearing. It was one of the first things about you that he perceived as such.

"'m fine, promise," he brushes off, "'nd I don' need any coffee."

"Well, you better wake up before the festival," you sigh, and he hates to think he let you down.

The festival, fuck, that is today. Each year the college throws a winter festival for the students, a lot of sororities and fraternities set up booths and the cafeteria gets turned upside down with decorations. The faculty's Secret Santa too, shit, he hasn't wrapped his gift. He really doesn't hate the festival or the idea of it, it keeps him young. He just doesn't know if he is gonna be able to stay around you any longer.

"Who did you get for Secret Santa?" you ask, taking a seat at the table, returning to your lab reports.

"Jus' Lix," he hates how drunk he sounds, "what about you? You always go above and beyond in the gift department."

He would never lie to you, you do go above and beyond with gifts. Each year, you go all out, spending a ridiculous amount of time and effort when it comes to the gifts you buy for people.

"Can't say unfortunately," you whisper, "or else it wouldn't be a secret."

You give him a smile that makes his stomach do a flip. "But I did get you something," you perk up.

You walk over to your bag and pull out a wrapped parcel, and carefully hand it over to him. "Thought you'd like it, took forever for it to ship over from overseas."

Minho examines the neatly wrapped box, wrapped in pink wrapping paper with a pink bow tied on top of the box. "Thank you," he sounds breathless.

He opens it carefully, and is met with a white box. He pulls the lid off and pulls out the cloth that sits on the bottom of the box. Revealing a white lab coat. The fabric is crisp and ironed. In the corner the text 'Dr. Minho Lee, PhD' is embroidered in black. Underneath the lettering is another embroidered patch. Instead of his name though, it's his three cats. Each of the cats looks identical to their real counterparts. "Sorry if it's stupid, I-" you apologize, "I just- I dunno-"

Stupid? It's the most thoughtful gift he has gotten in a long time. It comes from your heart, how could it be stupid.

You're the most beautiful and thoughtful person he's ever met. I love you, loved you for so long, he thinks to himself. He's so moved he almost feels like crying.

"Minho," you're quiet, stunned into silence.

He just realizes how his mouth has betrayed his mind, and his legs are moving with a panic.

The air is so damn dense as he sprints down the hall from the lab. The white fluorescent lights taunt him with their hum as he dashes away. Away from you, away from the chance that was all in his head.

He is gripping at the tie around his neck. He sees no comfort in the double doors out of the science lab, he is running without reason.

He breaks through the double doors and is soaked almost instantly. The snow is heavy and it patters against his body.

His legs stop moving, and he just stands there. In the snow. Terribly cold and terribly wet. He could curse God, but he doesn't believe in Him.

The doors behind him open and close. Doom blooms in his rapidly rising and falling chest. "Minho," it's you again, "Minho, you'll catch a cold."

His legs are frozen through. He couldn't move if there were a bear chasing him. He can't speak either. He's rendered silent. "Minho, it's about fucking time you confessed, b-because I-I l-love you too."

He can suddenly find the strength to face you.

When he does, the first thing he notices is your face. Mascara has soaked your cheeks, tear stains evident. "Y-huh? Wh-why are you c-crying?"

"Because I fucking love you," you sound weak- Minho never heard your voice sound so scared, "a-and you love me too? Did you mean it? You love me too?"

You're equally as soaked by the snow as he is. Your arms are crossed over your chest. He moves before he thinks, there really is nothing to think.

Hypothesis : you want him to kiss you. And according to the scientific method, he must test his hypothesis.

He's putting one foot in front of the other and moving to you. He wastes no time, simply cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss.

Sparks fly like shown in movies, his lips feel tingly and he can feel his heartbeat in every bone of his body.

Your lips are even softer than he imagined. Soft and molding against his own in ways that make him dizzy.

Like throwing a block of lithium into a pond, he feels like he may explode. Every atom in his body is undergoing a chain reaction that is so right he would never stop it.

"Love you," he's mumbling against your lips, "loved you for so long. You're everything I've ever wanted."

Tears brim his lashes, they nearly fall, but he is too elated to cry. "Minho," your voice is muffled by the sloppy kisses you're placing on his lips. You let out a groan and Minho's composure crumbles.

"Always been you," you hum, "since I met you, no one else."

All he had known until now had been decomposed and resynthesized. Like a chemical equation. He hates that he still thinks of you chemically.

Yet, he'd count every atom in your body so he could find out why you're so you. He's tear apart the heavens and the earth and chemically rearrange them just to see you smile.

Your bodies are melting together, forming a mixture of desperation, love, and lust. His hands are gripping every inch of your soft flesh available.

"Minho- mhm- take m-me home," you whimper into his mouth.

He kisses you one last time. He knows he will have this life, and the next to kiss you, he's in no rush.

His eyes finally open again, and he swears he has never seen a more beautiful sight. Your makeup is running down your face, and your lips are kiss bitten. Your body is pressed against his, and your hands are cupping his jaw. "H-home?" He stutters like a little kid.

"Your house," you grin, and he swears there's a mischievous glint in your eyes, "unless you don't wanna see me naked?"

If his jaw hadn't been on the floor before, it definitely was now. "God," he groans, "c'mon."

He's pulling you along with him, in the pouring snow, to his apartment. "If I catch a cold because of you, Lee Minho," you vaguely threaten.

"Then I'll nurse you back to health," he immediately replies.

You're both placing one foot in front of the other at a fast pace. When he sees his apartment around the corner, his heart thumps rapidly in his chest.

He doesn't struggle with the keys even though his hands are shaking beyond reasonable doubt. The warmth and comfort from his home is nothing compared to that which he gets from you.

He's stepping inside and pulling you in with him before slamming the door closed. A sudden fear rises in his chest, and any semblance of what to do next faded from his mind.

You notice this, you notice everything. "You okay?" you press your body against him.

You're both soaked from head to toe in cold water, yet you're so warm against him. "I-I?" he's stunned, like a dear in headlights.

You try and fail to hide the disappointment in your tone when you say, "do you not want t-"

He doesn't even leg you finish the sentence, "-I do. I do. I do. I-It's just not supposed to hap-happen like this."

"Please explain?"

"I - I have pictured, I've thought about us- us doing this, and I-I feel like I'm doing it wrong," you search his eyes for a clue as to what he means, "I mean-I just thought it would be so much more, romantic. N-not the confession, the- I just want to make it perfect for you."

"And how would you do that?"

"With rose petals and red wine and candles and-"

You shut him up with a kiss that is broken all too soon for Minho's preference, "you're such a dork, oh my god," you sigh playfully and hit his chest lightly, "I don't want roses or red wine, or candles. Minho, I want you. That's it."

"I-I," he stutters and can feel his cheeks heating up, "w-we should hop in the shower?"

"Excellent idea," you smirk.

Minho takes your hand in his and leads you to his bathroom, "sorry for the mess," he apologizes but knows that you won't mind.

He takes his eyes off you for only a moment to turn on the warm water, and when he turns back to you, you're halfway undressed. He swears he's never seen anything as beautiful as you.

You with your shirt and skirt in a heap on the floor, the only thing covering you is your underwear. Black cotton panties with lace hemmed on the side and a matching black bra.

You're reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra when he speaks up, "let me."

You smile at him and turn around, Minho's lips ghost down the side of your neck while his hands busy themselves, taking off your bra. He kisses down the back of your neck and your body shudders against his own.

You eagerly flip around and press your lips against his own. Now it's your hands that are pulling at his soaked shirt. You break the kiss but only for a moment, only so you can take off his shirt.

"Mhm," you moan into his mouth and Minho's grabbing at your sides like a madman.

His fingers hook under your panties and pull them down your legs.

And he finally gets a good look at your most sacred parts. They're more beautiful than his mind has ever painted them to be. Your breasts are soft to his touch, not too big nor too small. And your cunt, it looks tastier than a Sunday dinner in his eyes. His eyes rake down your happy trail that connects to your neatly trimmed bush and he wants to kiss it. He wants to kiss every inch of your skin.

He pulls down his boxers with his pants, and his semi-hard cock aches to be touched, to be inside you. You take his hand and step under the stream of water. He follows.

He'd follow you anywhere.

Hot water brings life to his cold skin. He's wrapping his arms around you, and his lips push against your own. "Where's the scar from?" you mumble the question between kisses.

"Had surgery wh-when I was a kid," he only stumbles over his words because your hand wraps around his cock and starts to slowly pump him.

He's so sensitive it hurts. Hurts all over. His body writhes at its own accord. "Your cock is so fucking pretty," you hum.

The words are filthy, but they sound as holy as the Pope's because they're said by you. "Baby- I-" you're so good at making him feel good.

Had you done this with someone else? Had you jerked them off in their shower? Had you ever brought another person this much pleasure?

Jealously pools in his chest at the idea of you with anyone that isn't him. "W-why are you so good at this? I-I just, please, wanna be the last. Can't handle the idea o-of you doing this to anyone but me," he confesses.

His sudden confession makes you falter and he tries to read the expression on your face, "last time I did this was before I met you, there's never been anyone since I met you. You were always gonna be it for me."

He almost sinks to his knees he feels so stupid. "D-do you want me to prep you?"

"There's no need, I promise," you smile at him.

You flip around, your body is pressed against his shower wall, the warm water hits his back and he swears he's never been more comfortable in his whole life.

He holds his cock in his hands and lines it up at your entrance. "You ready?" He can't help but sound a little cocky.

"God, Minho, just put it in," you whine.

His knees falter when he finally presses inside you, your walls are warm, inviting. You were right, you didn't need any prep.

"Oh, God," he groans even though he only has his tip in, "fuck, don't know how long I'm gonna last."

"Don't worry," you hum, a sharp squeak leaves your mouth when he stills all the way inside you.

He's buried so far in his cock is pressed up against your cervix. A shiver runs through his body when he finally thrusts inside you. You're tight and warm and so soft.

He's desperate, with every thrust of his hips he is losing every drop of his composure.

"Harder," you beg, "fuck me like you mean it."

His hips slam against your own, and you let out cries of pleasure as your body convulses against his own.

"Love you," you repeat the words like a mantra, they tumble from your lips with every thrust of his hips.

His hand wraps around your body and finds your clit. He would die if he didn't make you cum first. "Ah, jagi," he moans.

"Ah, Min- mama," you don't even realize what you're saying.

Mama? That was new, but he wouldn't protest. Not to you. Not in a million lifetimes.

"Mama, hmm?" Minho whimpers, "you wanna call me that?"

"Mhm," you nod your head furiously, "love you so much!"

How he loves you too.

His hand glides down your body and finds your swollen clit, he rubs it tenderly as his hips stutter in their movements. "Mama!" you squeal, "gonna cum!"

Minho can't warn you before he cums. He swears on everything he knows, this was the best sex he's ever had. His body convulses against yours and all that can be heard is the water hitting the shower and the both of your debauched breaths.

"Love you," you whisper.

Minho places a kiss on your spine, "I love you so much more, jagi. Merry Christmas."

[hannie-dul-set]

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING.

p — LEE JENO x female! reader. g — gang leader! jeno, actress! reader, humor, tension tension tension, jeno gets kidnapped by his celebrity crush, this is stupid, this is dumb, don't take this seriously. w — swearing, kidnapping, morally dubious characters HAHHAHA. 935 words.

note — happy birthday jeno. to the anon that sent the trope list curated for me, this is your fault. take responsibility. the prompt "accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss" suddenly terrorized my brain while i was studying. enjoy.

when lee jeno opens his eyes, a dull ringing in his ears, he sees nothing but the faint impression of a lightbulb burning through the sack covering his head. it’s dark. there’s an echo when he grunts and tries to move, but upon feeling the rope pressed against his wrists, the stiffness of his shoulders and the metal scratching of the chair against the rough ground— he’s quick to understand the situation he’s in.

the last thing he remembers, he was about to board a plane to japan. to spend a few months lying low after the particularly risky job his gang had to undertake not too long ago.

seems like someone managed to sniff him out before he could flee.

splash!

“wake up, you slimy son of a bitch.”

cold water hits, seeping into the fabric covering his face and crawling down to his collarbones. now, considering his line of work, jeno isn’t too fazed by this situation. he has a lot of enemies. maybe this one’s from a rival gang. could be a relative seeking revenge for a brother’s cracked skull, or some shit. doesn’t matter. he’s not gonna stay sitting for long anyway.

“did you really think you could cheat on me and run away scot free?”  

cheat? the sack gets thrown off from his head, a hand yanking a handful of his hair to pull his head back and he lets out a grunt. the chair is tipped back. jesus fucking christ, that felt personal. but when the sudden illumination stops blinding him, and he can finally see who the hell had the guts to jump and kidnap him, he’s a little taken aback.

jeno has a lot of enemies. the list goes on and on.

“use your fucking mouth, bast—”

but he’s pretty sure that the darling angel of south korea’s film industry isn’t on that list.

jeno watches as the vivid scorn and disgust in your eyes slowly meld into confusion, then realization, then a slow but sure descent into panic alongside the loosening of your grip.

“oh.”

must be the skills of an award winning actress. he feels almost a hint of disappointment when you stop pulling on the roots of his damp hair.

“oh, shit. one moment.”

clang! the chair he’s tied to settles once more into the ground with a clatter, and jeno watches as you quickly secure a distance between you and him, pulling your phone out of your sweats while biting the tips of your thumbnail. it’s a little funny seeing the nation’s sweetheart pacing back and forth all jittery in what looks like a basement— maybe your basement. as far as jeno can remember, you’re always casted for romance films. those feel-good, slice of lives and the pocari sweat commercial you once did echoes in the back of his head. but maybe you have a hidden knack for some thriller.

he starts fiddling with the ropes tied around his wrists right at the moment you screech into your phone. dispatch would have a field day if they see this.

“you got the wrong guy! my ex isn’t this hot!”

his fingers slip. his skin scratches the rough threads of the rope.

“i paid you useless fucks a shit ton of money to get the job done, but you can’t even get— ugh! nevermind. just go and bring me the actual son of a bitch i asked for this time.”

the knot is almost loose. this is quite the show. it’s better than all the movies he’s seen of you.

“what?! hello?! what do you mean you can’t help me anymore, what about our—”

drop. jeno gets up from the chair. he stretches his joints, neck cracking, watching as you sputter out a trove of profanities at your phone. his clothes are still damp from the water you splashed him earlier. maybe he should have a bit of fun first before leaving. it’s not everyday that you get to meet your celebrity crush.

“hey, dollface,” he calls out. you freeze. you look at him with the drop of a needle, eyes growing a little bit wider when you realize he should be sitting down. damn, they really need to cast you in a grittier film. “you should pay a bit more attention when you have someone hostage.”

a beat of silence. 

“uhm,” your voice croaks. jeno takes a step towards you. you take a step back. “listen, haha, there has been a misunderstanding.”

your steps stutter a little, moving back and back and you swallow nervously, looking at him with almost sheepishly— a sense of feigned bravery in the midst of retreat, teeth tugging on the skin of your lips. “oh, yeah?” he says, and you visibly rattle. you’re prettier like this than when you’re batting your eyes and flirting at the camera. you’re definitely prettier.

“yes, ahaha, there was a minor switch-up, you see i— i didn’t mean to...uh, escort you from the airport, i actually meant to target someone else, and— o–oh, and there’s a wall behind me. oops, haha. do you mind backing away a bit, um—”

“how about i help you with the ex boyfriend problem you have?”

the tables turn. it’s him digging his face up against yours this time, but the mention of your ex strikes a chord. you’re looking at him, gaze unbreaking. he can feel your shallow breaths on his skin.

“who are you exactly?”

“someone who can do the job better that the fuckers you sent me, definitely,” he chuckles. “how about it?”

he won’t ask for much. maybe just an autograph in return.

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[ohdeerfully]

Hello! Just gonna take a second and say I freaking LOVE your writing! I myself am a die-hard simp for Alastor…but enough about that! (Apologies for the long request)

Could you write one were the (fem) reader is besties with Angel dust,they share a close enough bond to cuddle with each other. Y’know since they’re like best friends and whatever they just find it entertaining. Soon enough, Alastor catches on with this consistent occurrence. Since he has a huge crush on the reader, he begins to grow jealous of the interaction. One night he knocks on her room door, at first he (tries and fails) to hide his feelings and weirdly feels the crave for affection. Which is very unlikely of him considering he’s not of fan of physical contact.

But the reader, being the smart little bastard that she is, sees right through his actions and grows suspicious. He admits his crave for affection, surprisingly very slyly.

The reader has no problem whatsoever with giving affection. So, he and the reader happily cuddle and she pets the fluffy deer ears on his head. She also catches his little deer tail wagging like crazy and she giggles at that. Leaving Al flushed and embarrassed. She gives him a little kiss and they stay like that the rest of the night :). This is just straight fluff and jealous Al.

hello alastor nation.... sorry for going super MIA for one million days,, ive honestly not been super interested in hazbin lately and just been busy in general but!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i cranked this bad boy out (as in i struggled to write it for like a month so sorry if its super janky) cuz i miss writing and i miss our boy. i didnt follow your request perfectly towards the end but i hope u enjoy it anyway!!! very fluffy very ooc but who cares. also not proofread so if u notice anything glaringly bad keep it a secret

By The Moonlight

Alastor x Reader (fluff) TW: alastor is ooc sorry.. it comes with the fluff. hes also lowkey toxic momentarily but whats new

masterlist join my discord!

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Angel Dust was one of the first demons that you met after falling into Hell over a year ago—and, despite his generally off putting and sarcastic personality he was the first demon that was actually kind to you. So, obviously, you found yourself practically glued to his hip on the day-to-day. While at first he seemed annoyed by your constant presence, the bond slowly became mutual as he found himself trusting you and opening up his tightly guarded true self.

Life at the Hazbin Hotel wasn’t much different except for one considerably problematic detail: the Radio Demon. While the relationship you had with Angel Dust was very affectionate, it had always remained platonic, but with Alastor…

Who in their right mind would fall in love with that demon?

You asked yourself this constantly, often beating yourself up for it when you felt heat against your cheeks in his presence or when your eyes trailed along the curves of his ears as they moved. This is so embarrassing.

It helped a bit that he seemed to avoid you in particular, often coming up with excuses to end a conversation and leave the room whenever he saw you come in. Or… was he doing that because he knew you had feelings for him and was just avoiding you at all costs?

Lounged comfortably on a lobby couch, cuddled next to Angel, you tried not to think too hard about it, especially now during one of Charlie Morningstar’s regularly scheduled Guest Bonding Experiences where… Everyone was present. While Alastor never agreed to join any actual scenario, he seemed to enjoy watching Charlie try (and often fail) to gentle parent a crowd of sinners, to which his motives were unknown but still questionable. You knew how dangerous the Overlord was but couldn’t help but stare a little too long at him as he joined the room.

It scared the shit out of you when his piercing red eyes seemed to snap to meet your gaze, followed by a nearly unnoticeable tightening of his grin. You quickly looked away, trying to play it off by looking at everybody else as well. Angel’s arm, which was thrown around your shoulder, nudged lightly.

“You okay? Ya leg is jumpin’ like a jackhammer down there.”

You composed yourself and reassured him that everything was fine.

Today Charlie was encouraging different pairs of demons to share what they like about eachother and admit something they should work on within themselves. Like clockwork, the activities went by awkwardly and eventually derailed way off Charlie’s original plan. She was always able to quickly adapt, but even she could hardly settle the group of rowdy and crude demons when things got out of hand.  

Vaggie didn’t take long to get fed up and quieted the noise with a few shouts. Charlie placed a grateful touch against her arm before clearing her throat.

“Okayyy… back on track. Uh,” Her eyes glanced around before finally landing on you. She beckoned you up. Your mouth opened to reject, to complain, to do anything to get yourself out, but a sharp glare from Vaggie shut you up before you could even form words. You heard Angel snicker as you grimaced before peeling yourself off the couch and standing in the center of the room.

“Alastor!” The name made your stomach drop. “I know you don’t usually like to play along, but h–” She was hushed by a simple raise of his hand.

“My dear,” He said with a light, almost mocking chuckle. The static in his voice tickled goosebumps up your arms. “If you know I don’t join these frivolous games, why would you ask? Besides… I don’t think I could if I wanted to.”

The way his eyes glanced up and down with what you could only read as contempt or disgust made you feel sick, but somehow angry at the same time.

“Fuck is your problem, man?” You didn’t even expect yourself to speak, words tumbling from your lips before you could properly think about who you were talking to. “You think you’re better than me or something?”

A pretty rhetorical question, considering his status as an Overlord, but you couldn’t stop yourself in the heat of the moment. Maybe it was embarrassment, or hurt feelings, or a bit of both or something else entirely, but you wanted to hit him so bad right now.

There was a hush in the room, save for the growing aggression in the buzz of Alastor’s radio frequency. By the way his eyes darkened with malice, you could only assume the plethora of ways he was imagining killing you right now.

“You’re lucky I am better than you,” He said in a dangerously quiet tone, leaning his height over yours. You clenched your fists and stared back in his eyes, though your knees felt a little weak. “If you weren’t such a waste of my time you’d be dead where you stand.”

If your tongue didn’t feel like a hunk of steel you would’ve commented on how you’ve seen him actually take some delight in killing similar “low-lifes” like you. He held his position for a moment, towering over you. When he seemed satisfied with his intimidation he straightened himself back to his usual posture and tidied his bowtie. His eyes glanced towards Angel Dust, held for a moment, before he turned away and left the room.

It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. As your adrenaline faded, you shakily returned to your spot on the couch next to Angel before your knees had a chance to give out. You felt two of his arms hug around you, but you couldn’t muster energy to return the gesture, every limb feeling useless.

“Man, you’re lucky, really had me worried there,” He tried to lighten the mood with a laugh. “The fuck he look at me for, though? I’da thought he was gonna come after me next with that look of his.”

“Hey…” You looked up at Charlie, who was tentatively hovering next to the couch. “I… even for Alastor… I didn’t expect him to react like that. He usually just says ‘no’ when I ask.” You closed your eyes and took a steadying breath.

“He’s unpredictable. A surprise from him is really no surprise at all if you think about it.”

Charlie’s eyebrows upturned as she looked over you, worried at your shaky state.

“You should go get some sleep, we can… just stop here. I think everyone’s tired anyway.” She waved her hand to dismiss the other demons, hoping to get you more privacy considering everyone was just ogling at you. Angel gave you a tight hug before sauntering off, not so sneakily following after Husk.

Your stomach was churning and your throat felt dry, but it wasn’t even a guess as to why. You pissed off and basically challenged Alastor and somehow got away alive. You honestly started to feel proud of yourself for that fact.

After the others left, Charlie offered to help you to your room but you merely laughed and assured her it was no big deal. You just needed a moment. You waited for a while in the dark, empty lobby, your only company the slow tick of a large grandfather clock against the far wall.

Soon an overwhelming feeling of paranoia set in and you started to feel jittery and uncomfortable. You could swear to yourself that something was watching you, but when you carefully looked around you couldn’t see anything. You hastily stood up and left for your room.

You sighed aggressively as the door shut behind you, resting the back of your head against it. Man, you felt so stupid. You never had any chance with Alastor anyway, but you still cursed yourself for acting like such a fool towards him. Just as you lifted yourself from the despairing slouched position against the wooden door, a quick but gentle knock sounded from the other side.

Assuming it was Charlie making another “are you sure you’re okay” round, you fixed your face with a smile and opened the door. As soon as it opened just a crack, your senses were flooded with the buzzing hum of an uncomfortably familiar radio noise.

Ah. Shit.

The smile was frozen temporarily on your shocked face but then slowly dropped as instead of the sweet expression of Charlie you were expecting, you instead trailed your eyes up to meet the cold, red gaze of Alastor.

Okay. Yeah. He was just here to kill you now since nobody—notably Charlie—was here to see. Makes sense!

You tried your best to stand still and unbothered as a few seconds of silence ticked by, though you weren’t sure how well you’d be able to keep it up a second time, especially now that you were... Alone. In the dark. With Alastor. Your head was already starting to hurt from the overpowering sound of radio frequency. Somehow still, you mustered the courage to speak.

“Aren’t you supposed to say hello?” You weren’t exactly sure why you said anything remotely aggressive, though maybe you were already resigned to accepting your fate at the hands of the Overlord in front of you. 

It seemed to trigger him to life again, as his eyebrows raised along with his smile. “Oh! My apologies, where have my manners gone! Hello!” You couldn’t really tell if the grin that stretched across his face held more hatred than usual.

Your arms were folded as you waited for him to continue, lips slightly pursed in worry at his presence.

Surprisingly enough, Alastor seemed to be unsure of what to say next. His mouth was slightly agape, almost like the words were caught in his throat and he was having trouble deciding what to say next. Which was odd for him, considering how he always seemed so thought out and sure of himself.

“You know, you shouldn’t be so physical with that spider friend of ours,” He finally said, which seemed incredibly forward, even by his standards. Your eyebrow quirked up in response, a frown forming at the way he so distastefully spat out his reference to Angel Dust.

“And why’s that?” “A dame like yourself… so… physical with that walking sex disaster. It’s unbecoming.”

“And… why are you telling me this? Why do you think I care what some old-fashioned radio host has to say about how I run my friendships?” You placed your hand on the door frame, ready to shut it in his face—but there was something odd about his expression that intrigued you just enough to keep it open. 

Alastor took a step forward, sensing your intention to shut the door. You took a matching step backwards. Your heart was beating at a pace you didn’t know it was capable of, reaching a rush of adrenaline that you assumed was at the face of your (final) death.

“I can’t say why I’m telling you this. I can’t say why I even care what some weak creature like you is doing. But I do know that I want you to listen to me and I will tear that spider apart if it means you do.” Every few words brought him a step towards you, and, just as before, you met with the same amount of steps backwards. You felt the back of your foot touch a foot of your bed.

“So you’re jealous?”

An almost comical record-scratch-esque noise sounded from—you assume—his radio staff as his body stiffened and eyes narrowed. The ambience of radio static was momentarily gone. You yourself froze, unsure exactly what made you so bold all of a sudden. It seems the face of death is one hell of a drug.

“What? How… how dare you even suggest such a ridiculous idea,” Although the intent of his words were hostile, he seemed… flustered? His face was turned away slightly and you could see the corners of his smile trembling a little bit. Would you dare admitting to yourself it was oddly cute?

“Listen, man, I’m just calling it how I see it. You come to my room in the dead of night complaining about me snugglin’ with Angel Dust. Just as you said… why would you care? Unless, of course…” You trailed, leaving the very obvious end to your sentence open for interpretation. 

Stiffly collapsing into a seated position on the corner of your bed made you realize how wobbly your knees had gotten as you were sure Alastor had been planning to kill you. You still weren’t positive you were in the clear, but your chances seemed a little brighter.

Alastor seemed to be battling some internal monologue because he still stood with his head turned from you. He was growing increasingly agitated, with the sound of his radio static returning and somehow getting sharper and louder. You wanted to try to pull him back into the conversation before he dipped out and never spoke to you again. 

“You know, I’ve never really felt any real love for the people around me. Even when I was alive. I love Angel Dust, yeah, but… nothing beyond the friendship we have. But then I got to the hotel and–”

“Why are you telling me this? I don’t care. I’m not a therapist.”

“For a guy that cares so much about manners you sure love to interrupt,” You spoke in a teasing tone, though Alastor didn’t seem to appreciate the words anyway. “Plus, I mean… You’re still here. Listening.”

He pondered for a moment. You honestly were surprised he didn’t just teleport the fuck out of there the second you started talking about your feelings.

“I don’t know why I care about you.” He admitted, and you didn’t fail to notice the lack of his usual radio-filtered voice. As awkward as the words seemed falling from his lips, his piercing eye contact with you never wavered as if he was just trying to intimidate you into nonexistence so he didn’t have to deal with this.

When you patted the spot on the bed next to you, you didn’t actually expect him to accept the offer. What you expected even less was for him to sit just close enough for your shoulders to touch. He was stiff and likely uncomfortable, and… so were you. You really had no clue how you even got here.

Seconds felt like hours as you sat in silence, the barely noticeable prickling of static against your skin being the only thing keeping you present. Otherwise you worried you might pass out from how long your heart had been nearly beating out of your chest.

“What were you saying earlier?” His voice suddenly broke the silence, making you jump slightly. You looked at him, but he was busy looking out a window.

“What do you mean?” “I mean earlier when I, very rudely, I apologize, interrupted you. What were you saying… about when you finally got to the hotel?”

His voice had such a sweet sound to it when it wasn’t distorted like it went through a radio channel. You allowed your eyes to trace the silhouette of his face for just a moment, lit ever so slightly by the red of the moon being filtered in by the window. You didn’t dare let your gaze linger for too long just in case he turned back towards you.

“Ah, I thought you weren’t my therapist,” You joked lightly. He side-eyed you, eyebrows scrunching.

“Don’t push your luck here.”

You laughed breathlessly, struggling to find air to even speak. You were still so incredibly nervous sitting so close to him and speaking so intimate with him.

“Yeah, uh… When I got to the hotel I think I finally found someone I felt love for. Something beyond just friendship. And it’s a weird feeling.”

Your knees were almost touching his. You could’ve sworn you weren’t this close to him before.

“I don’t think you should say who that demon is.”

“I know.”

Silence passed between you two again, and he still remained fixated on staring out the window. Finally, after a few moments of quiet, he finally turned his gaze back to you. His eyes, although they glowed with a dangerous, murderous red, somehow entranced you. They always had, but something about being this close to him in the gentle lighting being cast in from the moon… you could almost drown in them.

Without much of a thought, your hand had risen towards his face. When he flinched away you were suddenly brought back to your senses and your hand froze midair. Before you could move away and throw out a million apologies, his clawed fingers wrapped over yours.

It was a strange sensation, feeling his hand against yours. His skin was far from warm, and you knew how much blood spilled between his fingers, yet…

You allowed him to pull you towards him, a tug at your wrist bringing your chest flush against his. Your head was under his chin, and you held yourself stiffly against him. You could tell he wasn’t so sure either, with the way his hand held a rough uncertainty at the base of your back and his clawed fingers dug just a bit too roughly into your skin as he held you against him.

Gently moving, you tested the waters of his tolerance of you taking matters into your own hands. Although this feeling was unknown to the both of you, you at the very least knew how to be comfortable.

You urged him to scoot towards the pillows, pulling him along and pressing him back down on his back. You moved slow, waiting for the smallest hint that he wanted you to stop, but it never came. You settled next to him, flush against his side and you guided his arm to wrap around your waist. 

The stiffness ever so gradually left his body as he completely succumbed himself to you, allowing you to mold the two of you into an interwoven position, a closeness that the two of you desperately needed for each other. He would never admit this desire, but you knew by the fact you weren’t incinerated for trying to touch him that he needed this as much as you did.

Once settled, you traced featherlike fingers across his arm. You weren’t eye level with him, but you knew by the red glow in your peripheral that he was staring fixedly at you as if to study your entire being.

The moon eventually moved beyond your window, casting the room in complete darkness, your only sensation being the pressure of Alastor’s body against yours. There wasn’t even the slightest buzz of radio noise that seemed to always encompass his presence. His eyes must’ve been shut, too, as there wasn’t even a glow from them.

You let your eyes fall shut, enjoying the peace of the moment. You hadn’t the slightest clue what would happen in the morning—maybe you’d never even wake up if he got upset with some morning clarity.

You didn’t care too much, though. You’d just enjoy it while it lasted.

[hedgewitchgarden]

By: Lauren Diaz

The Appalachian mountains share their story with us in many forms, beginning from their wise and weathered peaks, through their towering forests, and down to the rushing roar of their rocky streams and rivers. Many of these clear, mountain rivers are inhabited by the cryptic and awe-inspiring Eastern Hellbender. Truly a living fossil, the hellbender has existed for millennia and yet sadly it has been quickly disappearing over the last century. The Hellbender is a lonely species; it is the only giant salamander in the western hemisphere, as its cousins live in China and Japan. An ancient creature that is hardy enough to withstand thousands of years of flooding and drought, Hellbenders were once abundant even in the mainstem of the Ohio river. Unfortunately, they are now being lost at an unprecedented rate, and for many reasons we don’t understand.

Although many factors implicated in the Eastern Hellbender’s rapid decline are large scale — urbanization, removal of riparian tree cover, siltation, and pollution — there is one simple issue that every one of us that recreates in the Appalachians has control over: the moving of rocks in these streams to create dams, chutes, and rock statues (also known as cairns). The rivers where we still have healthy hellbender populations, such as those within the Pisgah National Forest and Great Smoky Mountains National Park, are the same rivers that are receiving an extraordinary rise in human use. While the hellbenders are holding on for now, the very real possibility of loving these rivers to death is just around the corner.

The Hellbender relies on the spaces under river rocks for their homes and to find their favorite food: crayfish. They share these spaces with the stoneflies and caddisflies that feed the iconic rainbow trout, as well as a variety of other small fish, mussels, and salamanders. Most importantly, they require cavities under large boulders to breed. Hellbenders lay their eggs under these large boulders in early fall, and then the male Hellbender will stay in that cavity protecting the eggs and larvae until they emerge in late spring. Moving rocks around in streams disturbs the delicate homes and breeding grounds of these enigmatic mountain species.

Cairns are a recent phenomenon, and their ubiquitous presence in national park and forest rivers is undoubtedly tied with the rise of social media. You have surely seen a picture of one, probably accompanied with a quote about balance. You may think, “there’s no harm in making small ones if they only use boulders!”, but in fact small rocks are important habitat for larval and juvenile Hellbenders. Plus, just seeing one cairn in a river (even with tiny rocks) encourages others to make them too, despite nearby signs asking visitors not to move the rocks. Dams and tube chutes not only make large boulders unavailable to Hellbenders, but they also slow down water flow and essentially make pools of dead habitat. This slow, silty water can no longer support the needs of the unique species that require swift, cool, well-oxygenated water. Silt accumulates in the pools above and below rock dams, and that silt fills in the spaces that hellbenders need to live and reproduce. Moving boulders for any of these uses has the potential to crush any animals living underneath them, including hellbenders.

The motivations behind moving rocks are innocent. But the consequences for the rare species that rely on a very specific kind of stream substrate are damaging and permanent. Some hellbenders will spend their entire lives (up to 30 years!) living under one rock. We ask that when recreating in hellbender habitat, please keep in mind that you are a guest in their home. Respect the forces of nature that put each stone in its perfect place and the millions of years of evolution shaping these stream systems so that every insect, fish, and salamander can live in perfect harmony.

For more information on hellbenders, check out these resources on the article page.

[luff-gore]

Does anyone happen to have any historical context about the scar on James Clark Ross' forehead?

It is most visible on two photographs taken in the 1850s (held by the Royal Society) and around 1860 (held by the National Portrait Gallery), as well as a painting from around 1850 (also held by the National Portrait Gallery, even though it seems to run into the opposite direction here). Another painting from around 1848 (held by the Scott Polar Research Institute) might also show the scar but I am not entirely certain.

While earlier paintings do not seem to show the scar (for example, the two held by the National Maritime Museum Greenwich from the 1820s and 1834, I believe) this does not necessarily have to mean anything, after all paintings are often very idealising and try to depict an idea of a person rather than their actual physical appearance.

My educated guess would be that Ross got scarred either during Parry's fourth expedition for the North Pole in 1827 when he got crushed by one of the boats while hauling (Parry [1828]: Narrative of an Attempt to Reach the North Pole, p. 101). Or possibly (although less likely) during the Ross Expedition for Antarctica in 1842 when the HMS Erebus and Terror collided (i.a. Ross [1847]: A Voyage of Discovery and Research in the Southern and Antarctic Regions [vol. 2], pp. 217-218). Of course it's also possible that he was injured during the early search for the Franklin expedition in 1848/49 (I remember reading that Ross was stuck in the sickbay for two or three weeks but I cannot remember where I got this information from and whether it's actually valid).

But that's not a hill I'm willing to die on. Thoughts?

[footygirl114]

Cuando Eramos Niños (Alexia Putellas X Reader)

SO this is going to have another part.... but it got to this point today and I wanted to post something for y'all for being so patient with me. This one is a little less flirty Alexia, but it's the build up to the second part with all the cockiness. Let me know what we think?

Sitting on the plane to participate in your first world cup for your country was a surreal feeling, it was like nothing you have felt before. Looking out the window, watching the clouds fly by you couldn’t help but take a moment to reflect on the craziness of the past year. 

You had hoped to be an alternate player called in for Euros, as a left back you had a hard time finding playing time with the quality the team already had. Moving from Spain to England to play for Aston Villa, meant that you were being noticed but you had yet to make your national team debut. Watching the euros from your couch back at your mothers house in Barcelona, made your drive to play for them deeper and you wanted to push harder to get there. 

When the 15 came forward you hated that they had to do it, but you knew this would be your chance and you had to take advantage of it. And you did, you played some of the best football of your career during the international breaks but also during league play. You were working harder and digging deeper than you have ever done before. 

When your name was on that 30 player shortlist for the world cup you almost cried, but you still knew that you would not be here without the sacrifice of others, particular Leila who was missing out but you were taking her spot. While you were working harder, it slipped your mind that you would also be back playing with Alexia again. 

What no one else on the team realised was that you and Alexia had grown up together, she was a couple of years older than you, but she was your first for everything. You knew it was just a passing thing for her as you were younger and she was popular, but you knew the feelings you had for her ran much deeper than the ones she had for you. 

When she started to play more and signed her pro contract you were still in school, then your first contract came and it was on the other side of the country. You both grew apart, but you never missed her games - unless you were playing yourself. Neither of you had reached out but you watched her flourish and grow into one of the best players in the world and you kept pushing down those feelings that would bloom whenever you saw her. 

When you walked into camp that first day and your eyes locked you knew you were in trouble, when all those butterflies you felt came fluttering back. You couldn’t afford to be distracted now though so you vowed to yourself that you did not need her and you would make the team and do this by yourself. 

She didn’t get the message, and tried to befriend you and sit with you any chance she got, the one good thing is that she never hinted to anyone that you knew each other before. Last thing you wanted was for anyone to pick up on the massive crush you have had on her for years. When you walked out of the room that the coaches were using to deliver a players fate. You thought it was cruel but it was common in sports, you packed your bags before and when you left the room you were either heading to the team bus to continue on, or to a cab to fly home. 

Alexia was the first one you had seen walking out and you couldn’t help but let out an excited squeal and when she wrapped you in her arms it felt like coming home. The whispered “I am so proud of you” and the kiss pressed to your head made the butterflies go crazy. 

The following weeks of training leading up to this moment you are on the plane went by in a blur of training, meetings, and ice baths so many ice baths. The also included Alexia slowly getting more comfortable flirting with you, and she was not subtle in the way she watched you from the sidelines during drills. 

It wasn’t until the captain announced that the plan was landing that you shook out of your reflection. Reminding yourself in that moment that you got here on your own through hard work and grit meant that you would not given in to Alexia, she had already made her name in the football world. This was your chance to let everyone know what you could do. 

Transitioning from this plane to the final plane that would take you into New Zealand you kept repeating it in your head. Since this was a shorter plane ride it was a smaller plane, the team took up most of the plane and you settled into a window seat wanting to see the sights as you were landing. You were so deep in focus looking out the window and thinking about how you were going to get over this jet lag in order to keep playing your best. You felt someone sitting down beside you and didn’t think twice of it until you could feel someone pressing against your side, and feel their breath on your ear, you immediately know it’s Alexia. 

“Anything interesting out there?” she asks quietly into your ear. You feel the butterflies start again and the goosebumps on your skin as she finishes. 

“Once we move there will be” you say quietly back. 

She smiles and moves her hand to your arm and she rubs it softly as she says “I am looking at the most interesting thing here.”

You feel the blush rising on your cheeks as you say quietly “Ale please.” 

She chuckles and says “I missed that, I have missed you Y/N” 

Before you can answer the pilot announcement about seatbelts comes on and she leans back in her seat beside you. You wait until take off is over and you are at altitude before you turn toward her and say “I mean it you cant do that to me.” 

She turns her body slightly toward you in the seat and say with a smirk “I can do what ever I want Y/N.” 

“Ale, please Im asking you to give me a break” you say pleadingly. 

She reaches her hand out and places it on your forearm as she asks “give me a reason why not?” 

You close your eyes and take a deep breathe as you tell her “I worked my ass off to get here by myself, the last thing I need is a superstar like you complicating the one chance I will have to make my dream come true.” 

“complicate?” she asks softly. 

You look away as you say “yes Ale, you make me feel things that throw me off my game and I need to be on my game”

She squeezes your forearm and says “Y/N you are here cause we need you here, and you earned it. I have followed your career and I wish you had better opportunities to shine. The fact you didn’t  and still shined proves to me that you belong here.” 

You smile softly and met her eyes as you say “thank you for that Ale”

“do you remember that party in school when you found me sitting in the treehouse?” she asks softly as she runs her fingers softly over your wrist. 

“I do” you say with a question. 

She continues her movement as she says “do you remember why I was in the treehouse?” 

You look at her confused as you say “you needed a break from the party.”

She softly shakes her head and says “I had just found out that I would be signing my first pro contract the following week, I was freaking out about living up to their expectations.”

“You never said that” you say back. 

She smiles softly and says “I didn’t need to, its like you knew what to say without needing to know what I needed to hear.” she continues stroking your wrist moving up your forearms and she asks “do you remember what you said to me?”

You shake your head and say “no but I remember thats the first time you kissed me.”

She smirks and responds “I did but only because you told me that you believed in me and that I could do anything I set my mind to if I wanted to. You also told me that you would never stop following my career even if it took me to the other side of the world, cause you wanted to be able to say I know her.” 

You smile and nod whispering “I said all that?” 

“You did Y/N” she smiles “I never forgot it, and always knew I was playing for you.” 

“this doesn’t change anything Ale” you whisper silently. 

She nods and says “I know but I wanted you to know, that you have always been the reason I kept pushing, and for me this tournament being able to play beside you is a dream come true.” 

“It’s my dream too Ale, but I need to do this on my own. I got this far on my own I need to not be the player sleeping with Alexia Putellas.” you say firmly. This whole time she’s been running her fingers on your forearm, and you can feel the comfort only she can provide you.

She smiles at you and says “I can respect that but I will not change who I am Y/N, and who I am wants to flirt with you, and ever since I saw you again last month it reminded me of the feelings I had when we were younger.” 

“You did?” you ask her with a surprised look. 

“I did, I do Y/N.” she says. 

“even more reason I cant do this right now.” you say “I need to do this for me, and keep my head clear so I can be the best player I know I can be” 

She smiles and says “Okay Y/N, but I am going to prove to you that there can be an us while we both are the best players we can be.” 

Before you can answer there is shouting and the team is standing and dancing in the aisles of the plane, where they drag Alexia into the foray and you are happy that you do not have to have this conversation any more. turning back to the window all you can think about is how you will get these butterflies to calm down. 

**

You spent the next week avoiding Alexia at all costs, it wasn’t that hard since she was training away from the team. She would meet your eyes and send you a wink anytime they connected, but anytime you looked over and she washy looking at you, the anguish and pain on her face made you want to wrap her in your arms and never let go. 

Walking into the ice bath room the day before your first game of the world cup you saw the back of her head, you know it's her that pink hair doings it job, she was alone in the ice bath. You pause debating on coming back later, but the flash of her pained face comes across your mind and something pushes you to enter. 

“room for one more?” You ask her as you walk into the room. 

She immediately turns her head and smiles softly at you, you notice it doesn’t meet her eyes. “Yeah, come in Y/N, I am almost done.” 

You frown at the back of her head as she turns away from you. Placing your stuff on the bench you pull your shorts off leaving you in spandex, and your shirt off leaving you in your sports bra. Moving towards the end of her tub you slowly step in and sink down in one motion. 

You wait for her to say something and when she doesn’t meet your eyes you ask her “No comment about me stripping for you?” 

You can see her mouth quirk up as she says “not today.” 

Frowning as she still hasn’t looked to you, you move your foot to rub softly on her calf underwater as you ask her “penny for your thoughts?” 

“I’m okay” she says. 

“Ale, can you look at me when you say that?” you say and keep your foot rubbing on her calf. 

Again you see the corner of her mouth quirk up, and she moves her eyes up and finally meets yours. You can see the anguish in her eyes and she asks “happy?” 

“not really Ale” you say, you scoot closer to her and reach out for her hand as you ask “What’s going on in that pretty pink head of yours?” 

She snorts and says “Cute Y/N” and she moves to stand up as her timer beeps. 

You watch eyes locked on her body and she moves out of the tub and wraps a towel around her body, when she turns back to you with a smirk and a raised eye brow you smirk back and say “thanks for the show.” 

“anytime Y/N anytime” she chuckles and turns to leave. You close your eyes and lean your head back against the tub. You wait till the door closes and when it never does you peak one eye open and see her standing there with her back to you. Closing your eye again you wait it out. “I hate this Y/N, I hate not playing. I was just told I probably won’t get many minutes tomorrow and it pisses me off that they pushed my body too much and now I might pay for it.” 

You sit up and turn towards her still in the tub as you say “Alexia, thats not your fault.” 

She spins towards you and says “It is my fault Y/N, I am supposed to be the leader of this team, but I cant if I cant play. I should be the one helping us to win this thing, instead I am taking a spot from someone with a working fucking knee.” When she finishes you can see the weight lift off her shoulders as she gets that out. 

You get up and step out of the tub grabbing a towel and wrapping it around you. You move right in front of her and place your hands on her upper arms forcing her to look at you as you say “Every single one of us wants you here, no needs you here. You are a leader even when you aren’t on the field Ale. Don’t think I haven’t heard every one of your Barca teammates talk about your champion league half time talk. You are here to lead us to victory Ale.”

She softens and meets your eyes and says “what if I cant play Y/N?” 

“Then you yell and scream and lead us from the bench Ale. Just having you with us makes us all better.” you say and move your hands down to grab her’s. “Remember when I broke my ankle and thought I would never play again?” she nods and you continue “and you told me that you would cut your ankle off and give it to me if it meant me smiling again?”

She chuckles and says “I did say that” 

“I would do the same with my knee in a heartbeat Ale, every single one of us would. What i am trying to say is what you said to me a long time ago; That we need to fight through the hard times to get to the good times. You motivated me to be the bench player that my team needed, to be the strength when they lost there’s.” 

She smiles with watery eyes as she says “who knew I was so wise”

“I did” you respond softly. 

You watch as she inches closer to you and her eyes move down to your lips, you know you should pull away but right now you can tell she needs the closeness. Before your lips can touch your timer to get out of the ice bath dings and you pull back startled. 

You hear her chuckle behind you as she says “thank you Y/N”

“anytime Ale and for the record I am going to be playing for you when you can’t” you say with a smile. 

“then I’ll be the strength you need me to be Y/N” she smiles and you can hear movement down the hall as you smile and she says “we should go.” 

Nodding you follow her out of the room. Your mind and heart is racing and you cant help but think you aren’t going to survive the whole tournament if she keeps this up. 

**

When you get the nod on the starting 11 the following morning, you almost don’t believe it. But when you are lined up in the hallway waiting to walk out in your first world cup it finally hits you. When you are lined up for the anthems and you meet Alexia’s eyes, who’s dressed and ready to subbed on the bench, you feel a calm you didn’t know you needed. 

3-0 up in the 70th minute you glance towards the sub board and see Alexia’s number, that is the moment that this game feels surreal to you. This was what you dreamed of when you were younger, you and Alexia playing together for Spain on the worlds stage. 

She comes in and as the other subs are made, she looks towards you and smiles with a wink and you can feel the excitement build in your stomach, and this time you aren’t afraid of the butterflies, this time you use them. 

The connection you and Alexia have lead to a goal, you make the run down the wing, she just knows you will be there. And when you cut it back you can see exactly where she will be and you lay it off perfectly to her at the top of the box, one touch and she’s placed it in the top corner. 

She takes off running towards you and when she jumps up in your arms you know this feeling is one you want to keep feeling. 

Once the final whistle blows and you have shaken the other teams hands, you feel Alexia come up behind you and place an arm over you shoulder. You lean into her and feel her whisper “Unreal game Y/N, you are unreal.”

You can feel the blush, but luckily you are still red from running as you say “Ale that shot was unreal.” 

“only cause you set me up on a platter babe” she says with a wink as she pulls away to jog over to another player. 

Standing there with a blush on your cheeks it takes you a moment to look around and take it all in.  Knowing you have worked this hard to get to this moment was an overwhelming feeling, but you wanted to keep working hard and win this thing. 

[waxingrunes]

Question.

Remus and Sirius are soulmates, they are the blueprint, the alpha beta and omega, the OG, the OP of all that is right with soulmate-ary in this world and others and I will never, ever, skip down any other yellow brick road than this Universal, National Fact.

This being said, how do people feel about a completely unrealistic and purely self indulgent p* without plot crack fic of Remus and Regulus. Think, a universe where Remus hasn’t met Sirius yet or, maybe he has and they don’t get along at first, I don’t know. Anything as a back plot but essentially Regulus has a secret crush on Remus that he will never voice and Remus, once clapped eyes on Regulus, can’t stop thinking about how pretty the frown on his lips would look all puffy instead.

And he eventually winds up pounding Regulus in his bedroom, right under his family’s roof.

[keisgirl]

might delete this so no title again

strangers to friends to lovers to exes to enemies to friends to lovers again????? (idk what i’m doing

it was a warm summer evening when you first met tobio kageyama. karasuno’s gym was buzzing with the energy of a team that had just won a crucial match, and you were busy helping to clean up after practice. the smell of sweat and the sharp tang of sports drinks filled the air. kageyama was grumbling about the game, his frustration barely hidden behind his scowl.

“hey, you’ve got to relax,” you said, offering him a bottle of water. “it’s just a game.”

he looked at you with those piercing eyes, the kind that could cut through the dim light of the gym. “you wouldn’t understand. you’re not a player.”

you shrugged. “maybe not, but i know when someone needs a break. and you look like you do.”

over time, you became karasuno’s volleyball manager, and your interactions with kageyama became a regular part of your routine. his cold demeanor often melted away in your presence, revealing a side of him that was rarely seen. it was during these moments, when he’d laugh at a joke you told or show a rare smile, that you started to develop feelings.

the transition from friends to something more was gradual but undeniable. it started with small gestures—him leaning a little closer when he spoke, lingering touches when passing you a water bottle, and moments when he seemed to just enjoy being around you. late-night study sessions turned into stolen kisses and soft confessions, and before long, you were more than just friends.

kageyama had always been intense, but there was a different intensity when it came to his feelings for you. the first time he confessed, it was amidst the chaos of practice. the gym was nearly empty, save for the two of you, and as the sounds of shuffling feet and the occasional thud of a volleyball echoed through the space, he finally voiced what had been simmering beneath the surface.

“i don’t know how to say this,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “but i think… i like you. more than just a friend.”

your heart raced as you looked up at him, the intensity in his eyes mirrored by your own feelings. “i like you too, tobio-kun.”

the moment you became a couple was a shift in both your worlds. practices became a dance of hidden glances and whispered secrets, and every stolen kiss in the dark was a promise of something more. your relationship flourished amidst the chaos of high school life, and despite the challenges, you found a way to make it work.

but as graduation loomed, the future began to cast a long shadow over your relationship. kageyama was consumed by his dreams of becoming a top volleyball player, his focus narrowing to the single goal of success. you, on the other hand, were set on your own path, which led you to opportunities and experiences far beyond the familiar confines of karasuno.

the growing distance between your goals and ambitions began to take its toll. one quiet night in the park, a place that had once been a sanctuary for your love, the inevitable conversation came.

“maybe we’re just… not meant to be together,” kageyama said, his voice cracking with the weight of his words. “i’m so focused on volleyball, and you have your own dreams. maybe it’s better if we go our separate ways.”

the sting of his words cut deep, and you felt tears welling up as you tried to find the right words. “so, that’s it? after everything we’ve been through, you’re just going to walk away?”

“it’s not like that,” he protested, desperation evident in his voice. “i just can’t be the person you need right now.”

you turned away from him, feeling the weight of his decision crush you. the love you had shared was now a painful memory, and the future you had envisioned together had disintegrated into fragments of what could have been.

life moved on, and you both ventured into new worlds. you became the manager for korea’s national volleyball team, a role that gave you a new perspective and purpose. kageyama continued his ascent in the volleyball world, achieving the success he had always dreamed of. but the unresolved emotions of your breakup lingered, and when the opportunity arose to face him on the international stage, you seized it with a mix of determination and bitterness.

the rivalry between korea and japan became a focal point of your professional lives. every match was charged with a personal vendetta, and you relished every moment when your team outperformed kageyama’s. each victory felt like a small triumph over the man who had once been your everything.

for kageyama, the constant reminders of his past relationship were a source of frustration. he felt the weight of your disapproval and the bitterness in every interaction. the court was no longer just a place of competition; it was a battleground for your unresolved feelings, and every match was a chance to confront the past.

as the years passed, the intensity of your rivalry began to wane. the animosity that had fueled your interactions started to feel hollow, replaced by a weariness that neither of you could ignore. a chance meeting at a volleyball conference became the catalyst for change. both of you had grown, and the bitter edge of your rivalry had dulled.

“we’ve been through so much,” kageyama said, his voice softer than you remembered. “maybe it’s time we put all this behind us.”

you studied him, the familiar pang of old feelings stirring within you. “i’ve moved on, kageyama. but maybe… we can find a way to be civil.”

that evening, as you sat on a quiet beach watching the sunset, old memories began to resurface. you talked about the past, sharing stories and laughter, and with each word, the distance between you seemed to shrink.

“i don’t know how we ended up here,” kageyama said, his voice filled with a mix of regret and hope. “but i’m glad we did.”

you looked at him, the realization dawning on you. “me too.”

the years of pain and heartache seemed to melt away as you embraced, the love that had once been so significant now finding its way back into your lives. you both had changed, and as you spent more time together, you saw the person he had become. the road had been long and arduous, but the bond that had once united you was rekindled.

the turning point came one evening when you both found yourselves at the volleyball court where your journey had begun. the sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the scene that had once been so familiar. as you both stood side by side, the past seemed to blend with the present, and the pain of old wounds began to heal.

“we’ve come a long way,” kageyama said, his voice filled with emotion.

“yeah,” you replied, smiling through your tears. “but it was worth it.”

hand in hand, you walked away from the court, no longer bound by the pain of the past but united by the strength of a love that had endured. the court of broken hearts had transformed into a place of healing and redemption, and as you looked into each other’s eyes, you knew that whatever the future held, you would face it together.

the sun set on the volleyball court, a symbol of the journey you had both undergone. you and kageyama stood together, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. the love that had once seemed lost had found its way back, stronger and more resilient than before. as you looked toward the future, you knew that, despite the trials you had faced, you had come out on the other side, hand in hand and ready to embrace the life you had always dreamed of—together.

[cackled0g]

An interesting aspect of the Gerudo that I don't see explored a lot is the way that their society, despite having one (1) man is still patriarchal in nature. For a race of almost exclusively women, the Gerudo are like pretty obsessed with men. They have a genetic line of rulers passing from mother to daughter for generations...unless some other random Gerudo has a son. Gerudo Fortress is off limits to all men, but in excluding men it places an awful lot of focus on them. Gerudo are raised to grow up and seek out a male partner [1][2], Gerudo are raised to recognize their incompleteness without a man, Gerudo are raised in a culture that venerates the concept of men so much that to be born male in their culture is to automatically be deemed superior to all other Gerudo.

Do you know that thing where someone hates something so badly that it kind of becomes their whole personality? The sort of person who puts "anti h//t//l h@zb1n" in their bio because to them one of the most important things to know about them isn't their interests or hobbies but instead the thing they hate most fervently? That's the Gerudo. The Gerudo as a culture can be summed up as 'men dni (except for our one super special once in a lifetime guy)'. To be a Gerudo woman is to grow up hating and fearing men, who are outsiders and encroachers, but also to dedicate years of your life preparing for a husband. To be Gerudo is to be a powerful woman until you have a more powerful man at your back.

To me, this is vital to any reading of Ganondorf. Ganondorf is entitled. He feels entitled to rule Hyrule, he feels entitled to the Triforce, he feels entitled to the lives of everyone in Hyrule, and yes, you can make an argument that he does what he does for his people, he steals and lies and murders because the Gerudo are being crushed under the boot of the monarchy, but at the end of the day Ganondorf treats his people as poorly as he does the other Hylian races. The only named Gerudo in OOT who isn't literally one of his mothers, Nabooru, fucking loathes him, and does so because she finds what he is doing to be deeply dishonorable. "I'm completely different from Ganondorf. With his followers, he stole from women and children, and he even killed people!" [3] Given that Nabooru is highly respected [4] by the Gerudo, I find it hard to believe that she's literally the only Gerudo with reservations about the new king.

What does Ganondorf meaningfully do for the Gerudo? In the adult timeline of OOT, the Gerudo aren't living it up in Castle Town or controlling the agriculture in Hyrule--they're back at home being brainwashed with black magic [5] [6] [7] into being obedient foot soldiers by Ganondorf's mom(s). In TP Ganondorf is more motivated by petty revenge than by any love for his people, and although he may wax poetic about the cruelty of Hyrule in subjugating his nation in WW, he certainly didn't seem to be that bothered about the living conditions of the Gerudo back before they all got drowned. His whole wind monologue [8][9*] in WW is either meant to be understood as a lie, an attempt to manipulate Link, or is a rewriting of his motivations. In OOT Ganondorf seems purely motivated by a thirst for Power with a capital P, and I think that being raised in a culture that literally worships you as a god [10] might tend to have that affect on you, yeah. Ganondorf is like a distilled version of male entitlement, he's 100 proof fantasy misogyny. Ganondorf is king because kings are men and men are kings because men are superior. Ganondorf is special because he is male. Ganondorf is not the most powerful sorcerer of the Gerudo (pre-Triforce of Power, at least), he is not the most fit to lead (good leaders don't need to brainwash their followers), and he certainly isn't the best at combat, as his main attacks are throwing fireballs and going hog mode. It is his masculinity which makes him fit to lead and nothing else, and it is ultimately his culture's reverence of that masculinity that leads him down the path of evil.

On a Doylist level, this is because our real society is misogynist. The Gerudo are obsessed with men because OOT was made by men for boys. The Gerudo are all women because they're an orientalist stereotype--the Gerudo are the ultimate harem, an entire race that consists of one man and his many wives. Ultimately, no Watsonian reading of the text (playing of the text?) can overcome that. You can't separate the Gerudo as a race from real life racism and misogyny and imperialism.

On a Watsonian level, it compels me though. Feel free to check me on this--I am always willing to talk about Ganondorf and the Gerudo. Note that most of my text sources come from dialogue in OOT, and I am primarily talking about OOT-era Gerudo/Ganondorf.

[9*]- You can find the plaintext of this monologue on this site, the video linked in a fan made dub by user @mintchocolatechimp. (Sorry for the tag, I didn't want to post your work without credit. Nice video btw.)

[lionhearttt]

Crush (크러쉬) - ‘A Man Like Me’ Track Video