#so when they explain things it sounds like we read two different books

[lukecastellanshandholder]

I still think that the most baffling thing to me about the PJO fandom is that like 98% of them don’t even know about Hal and his story. They don’t know about what the gods did to him. They don’t know what the gods did to the hundreds of demigods that were part of the Titan army, after the battle of Manhattan was over.

Most of the fandom thinks that Luke only considered tearing down Olympus because, "his daddy didn’t pay enough attention to him".

Most of the fandom thinks that all of those other demigods that were in the Titan Army are alive but just living in the mortal world.

Most of the fandom is just forming all of their "hot takes" on the information that we get from Percy, the information that Chiron and the gods carefully feed to him. They’re missing 90% of the information and it really shows.

[fangharel]

we need to talk about The Silence and The Song

[PLEASE READ] edit to add: i realise that this post has been reblogged far and wide and that there is not a lot i can do about it now, but this is me trying anyway.

posting examples from the fic about my issues with its repetitive structure was careless of me, and i apologise to those of you who read it and became insecure about your own writing style. as someone who has worked with ai in academic settings, it's incredibly difficult for me to explain to you how the tone and structure of ai-generated fiction works and how, after reading enough of it, you can simply just tell. i do also realise that this is an incredibly weak argument, which is why i didn't include it when i originally wrote this post.

all that to say: there is an enormous difference between "beginner's writing" and ai writing. being repetitive as a new writer (or a seasoned one who just likes using repetition) is so normal. as is flowery/purple language. i've read hundreds of books and fics and the difference between these traits in ai-text and actual works is starkly clear. please don't feel anxious over the examples i've used in this post.

again, i apologise for any distress i have caused.

as per my last post, i have received a lot of encouragement to go public with this, and the more disappointed people i have in my dms, the angrier i get. so i will.

the silence and the song is an ancient arlathan au DA fic on ao3 by luxannaslut, and it is partly, if not entirely, written by an ai. i have no wish to be involved in any kind of fandom drama or witch hunting or bullying, but as a writer myself there are few things that piss me off more than watching people steal the work of others because they can't be fucked to write. it's disrespectful to your fellow writers, it's disrespectful to your readers, and it's disrespectful to the authors of the works the ai is stealing from.

ai is a plague that has no business being in creative spaces and you must do better.

the writing pattern

there was something very odd and monotone about the sentence structure of tsats that i couldn't quite place, so i fed chatgpt a prompt along the lines of "two people in a fantasy novel hate each other, but they secretly desire one another, and they kiss", and the screenshots above are the results. the third one is an excerpt from chapter 40 of tsats. the writing pattern is identical and it doesn't seem like the "writer" has even bothered to pretend they wrote it. if you're going to use ai, at least be sneaky about it. you know, paraphrase a little.

nonsense descriptions

"her nimble fingers worked with quiet precision" (ct. 1), "his grip firm but tender" (ct. 33), "her gown pooling around her like embers" (ct. 1).

fingers don't make sound, so what does quiet precision mean? as opposed to what? her joints cracking with every movement? how is a grip firm but tender? what does that mean? since when do embers pool?

the entire fic is littered with these adjectives that contradict each other or just straight up do not make sense, because all an ai does is generate descriptive language with no understanding of what the words it's spitting out actually mean. i could spend hours picking out examples from the seven billion pages worth of text, but i quite frankly have better things to do and would simply challenge you to try getting through a chapter or two without noticing the pattern.

repetition at structure-level

all the scenes in this fic are described in pretty much the same way. they open with purple prose vomit of the surroundings; solas is standing somewhere looking "unreadable as ever"; ellana's fiery golden molten fire copper ember ginger red hair is flowing this and that way; there's some dialogue with whoever is present and it leaves ellana feeling different variations of "something she couldn't name". this is, once again, a blatantly obvious sign of ai. below is the result of me feeding chatgpt the line "write me a scene from a fantasy novel where a woman with red hair is sitting on the ground in a magical garden at night", and side by side with that is the opening scene of the fic. make your own judgement.

repetition at word-level

this one speaks for itself. we fucking get it. her dress is orange, her hair is red, mythal's presence is heavy in the room, solas looks unreadable, compassion is sitting on her head like a crown, solas' ears are betraying him and ellana's move with every thought she thinks. we get it. the issue here is that an ai remembers the info you feed it, but not necessarily the info it shits out. if it's being told to write scene after scene of an elven woman with a gown that looks like fire doing xyz, it's going to do so with no regard for how many times the reader has already been informed of these details.

lastly: the breakneck speed

359,6k words in four weeks by a person who allegedly is employed and married and hasn't pre-written anything? no. any writer will tell you that this simply isn't possible. it absolutely infuriates me to see how much praise this "writer" gets for posting up to three full chapters in a day without anyone calling bullshit. i am pulling out my hair, you guys.

why i'm not going to live and let live this one

perhaps i would be less angry if the fic was some silly bullshit court intrigue Y/A stuff, but this is a text that handles very heavy and triggering topics such as SA, coercion, domestic abuse, and other things of the same vein. to sit back and put your feet up while having a robot write these extremely sensitive and very real human experiences with words it has stolen from texts written by actual persons is fucking heinous. the "writer" should be deeply ashamed of themselves and i'm sick and tired of watching people eat up their bs.

and on that note: the amount of people in my dm's telling me that they feel stupid and naive for not clocking this has infuriated me more than anything else. you're not foolish for this. being fed ai-generated bullshit is not what is supposed to happen on any creative platform and much less a fandom-centred one, so of course no one approaches a fic through that lens. fandom and fic writing is supposed to be about passion and the only person in this situation who needs to do better and change their behaviour is luxannaslut. polluting our creative spaces, wasting the time of your readers, and minimising the effort of actual writers who are working hard to provide content for us all to share and enjoy is vile and so, so lazy. i beg of you: do better.

[bluecrocss]

Yes. You are racist. (Buckle up, this is gonna be a long one)

So approximately half a year since the premier of the Disney+ Percy Jackson show, and almost two years since the announcement of the Trio's casting, I would like to take this moment to look back at the insane, racist and anti-black backlash that was launched at Leah Sava Jeffries and a few other cast members from the PJO fandom.

I'm not concerned with the trolls who are openly racist, who resorted to racist slurs and outright threats, everyone agrees that they "took it too far". I want to talk about the rest of you, the "I'm not racist, but.." people, the "What's wrong with wanting book accuracy?" people. Just to let you know, for the unasked question... yes, yes you are.

I've noticed the Percy Jackson fandom has been lording some weird superiority complex over a certain *unnamed* fandom that has fallen out of grace due to their recently outed bigot of an author. But honestly, y'all are not much different. The amount of vitriol and anti-blackness I have seen from this fandom (beyond just bullying a 12 year old girl), y'all don't have a leg to stand on.

Below is a breakdown of the most common arguments I have seen used to justify y'alls absolutely insane bigotry. I am going to explain why none of these justify the amount of anger and vitriol y'all have sent towards Leah, Rick or any of the cast.

I am not here to argue, and this is not a democracy. I am giving you a chance for some self-reflection and to understand that this pattern of violence directed towards POC actors (mostly black women) has never been justified in the name of "book accuracy"/"comic book accuracy"/"ending forced diversity" or whatever other excuses y'all try to make up.

If you still try to justify or argue further for any of these points, I will just block you. I am not coddling you through your racism. If anyone has seen any other dumb arguments floating around that I might've missed, feel free to sound off in the comments.

She's not book accurate:

Neither is Percy, Luke, Grover, Dionysus, Poseidon, and just about every other named character.

Rick already made it clear that physical features were not the priority with casting, rather it was actors that embodied the role. So why are the biggest complaints about Annabeth and Zeus? 🤔

What? You're gonna say everyone else got backlash too? I see you trying to obscure the main issue by playing dumb 😉

See my friend, yes, there were one or two comments about how Percy's hair should be black or how Luke is supposed to be blonde, but as soon as Leah was cast, none of those actors got any significant backlash. In fact, Walker and Charlie literally have an army of fan girls at their beck and call, calling them the perfect Percy and Luke, despite neither being "Book accurate". But then again, have we not observed the pattern of White boy of the month vs WOC to hate for the year? (Yes, I know Charlie isn't white. Further adds to the irony, doesn't it).

Why include character descriptions if you won't stay true to them, you cry? Well, my dear sweet moron, see, books and TV are two different mediums. Because in literature, you can't *Literally* SEE the characters, the author has to add descriptions to paint a picture in your mind, in TV... that's not an issue. So unless the character's appearance is necessary to the plot (like Luke's scar, or Nico being Italian) the show runners can actually focus on more important things.. Like ACTING and PERSONALITY.

2. It's just not how I imagined her:

News flash, babe! ANNABETH ISN'T REAL. None of these character are. They are concepts that originated from the brain of Mr. Rick Riordan. It doesn't matter how YOU imagined her. There are millions of people who read these books that imagined her several different ways. When the creator of the character watched Leah's audition and said, 'Yes! She embodies the character I created!", your imagined version of Annabeth ceased to matter. And guess what? The books still exist... they have not been burned. Your version of Annabeth has not disappeared. Go read the books.

3. Zeus can't be black/Gods have to be Greek/*Insert Character* can't be black:

Y'all did not read the books, I swear. You have to be fake fans looking to troll atp.

The gods move based off the center of western civilization. They change their forms/environment to reflect the culture they are occupying (they did it with Rome, now they're doing it with America). The gods change forms all the time. How we see them is not their true form as a mortal would disintegrate if they were to see their true form.

America is a cultural melting pot (specifically NY where Mount Olympus is now based). If the god's choose forms that reflect the current society they inhabit, they could literally be any race (keep in mind NYC is only 33% white).

All of this is literally SPELLED OUT in the Lightning Thief.

Furthermore, if you're going to push the ethnically Greek thing... Poseidon is British with a British accent and Hermes is Latino. The only ethnically Greek actor is Dionysus (who still doesn't look book accurate). Y'all are sounding like some white supremacists because do you forget that race is a social construct?

Before the advent of the transatlantic slave trade, I can promise you that the Greeks and the Anglo-Saxons did NOT view themselves as the same people. Why are y'all not taking issue with Poseidon's actor then?

Also, Percy Jackson has canonically had a slew of explicitly black demigods since the second book (including Harriet Tubman, which I have mixed feelings about 😭), so I genuinely have no idea where some of y'all are going with this point.

4. She was our smart blonde representation:

Don't pmo. I swear to God!

White, blonde women have NEVER been excluded from Hollywood. Representation is not something you lacked. The dumb blonde stereotype was a simple branch off of a larger misogynistic "dumb woman" stereotype. It has not truly been relevant since the mid 2000s outside of childish jokes.

This iteration of Percy Jackson will probably not go beyond the first 5 books, based off pacing and the age of the actors. So here's a fun game: 5 bucks to the first person who can find me a quote in the first 5 Percy Jackson books, where Annabeth laments her insecurities about being blonde (hint: there aren't any).

Also, her blonde hair does not hold her back at Camp because she is head of the Athena Cabin who are highly respected (and guess what?), ARE ALL BLONDE!

Her insecurities about her hair color are two or three lines at most in the later books, not this fundamental, core part of her character y'all all of a sudden wanna pretend it was. And guess what, as a non-blonde black girl, I was able to read those scenes of Annabeth feeling undervalued because of her looks and relate to her even if she didn't look like me at the time.

Why all of a sudden can y'all not do that with a black Annabeth? By every metric black girls are undervalued for their intelligence in academia more than white girls are, regardless of hair color. So your little representation of a woman undervalued by her looks would still hold. Do y'all dehumanize black women so much, that you are incapable of empathizing with show!Annabeth's plight in the way I could with Book!Annabeth simply because she doesn't look exactly like you?

Your issue isn't that she isn't blonde, it's that she is NOT WHITE.

Furthermore, Becky Riordan had tweeted previously (before the show was even cast) that Annabeth never needed to be blonde (probably recalling the BS y'all put Alexandra Daddario through), so even if they cast a white Annabeth, the blonde hair was never a guarantee. the author and producers all agree that it was not a significant part of her character. It's been a non-issue since day one.

Also, stop acting like smart blondes are rare in media... If you don't go watch some Legally blonde, Iron Man (Pepper Potts), Zack and Cody (Maddie), Liv and Maddie, FMAB (Winry), Captain Marvel, She-Ra, Buffy, The boys (starlight) etc. etc., and go sit down somewhere 🙄🙄🙄 (those were literally all things I've watched recently, off the top of my head, btw 💀)

5. It's not about race, but...:

Yes it is. It was always bout race. No other actors got as much hate as Leah. Her grandmother and other family members on IG had to mute their comments because they were getting so many threats.

Alexandra Daddario had to come to her defense on Twitter. Rick had to put out an official statement on his website. This girl has endured years of psychological torment for simply having the best audition. No one else is book accurate, no one else is ethnically Greek (except Jason Mantzoukas). Walker literally has British and German ancestry.

Why was she being called racial slurs on reddit and in youtube comments?

I know what you're gonna say, "I actually had problems with the entire cast", "I actually had a bigger issue with Walker's hair color", blah blah blah. Then why aren't you in Walker's comment sections? Why are you only making your displeasure known on posts defending/advocating for Leah? Why is she always your first example of 'wrong casting"?

Well, she "looks the most different"... Look up the term "scapegoating".

"Oh, I don't agree with the harassment. I just don't like the casting." Guess what? She's already been cast. They are not going to uncast her. What do you get out of still complaining about it.

All the vitriol you're stirring about her when you complain about her on Social media, it is directing people to send her hate, even if you're not writing it directly. It's is not enough to "not agree" with the racism, it is your duty to actively prevent it. And btw, these are young gen z actors, they are active on social media. They see the edits of themselves (even comment on it) and they most likely see these little "harmless" complaints you're posting. Are your upset feelings really worth contributing to the racist dogpile on this poor girl?

6. Why couldn't they atleast give her blonde braids?:

Why should they? Y'all wanted blonde because of the "dumb blonde" trope... that doesn't apply to POC.

A blonde black girl is gonna be viewed the same as a non-blonde black girl (or at worst, someone might decide she's "ratchet" or some shit for wearing colored hair). What difference would it make?

Why shouldn't Walker dye his hair, then?

7. Annabeth has Gray eyes:

Less than 3% of the global population has "gray eyes". Even if they cast a white actor, they would've needed contacts. Her being black is not the reason Annabeth's eyes aren't gray. Simply put, it is a plot element they removed, like the whole "names have power" element, or Ares having flames for eyes, or Dionysus using his powers to grow strawberries at Camp.

That's how adaptations work. Unnecessary plot elements are cut to save time and budget. This has nothing to do with her casting. They probably also didn't want to make child actors wear contacts (not a new practice).

8. Even if Rick chose her, he was wrong/Disney is forcing him to be okay with it:

Where do I start? Rick created the character. He can't be wrong. Do y'all have no self-awareness? Death of the author has no place here, because y'all are hung up on an aspect of the character that is not relevant to her arc or development.

Y'all's justification for wanting a "book accurate" Annabeth is that she was such an inspirational and important character growing up, and yet your behavior is so in conflict with the character you claim means so much to you. You're narrow minded, dismissive of bigotry and injustice, and disrespectful to the wishes of the creator of your favorite character; everything that Annabeth would never be. Y'all were never genuine fans of the books. You're bigots that needed an outlet for your rage.

Keep in mind, Rick has said countless times that PercaBeth directly mirrors his relationship with his wife. Y'all think he would have allowed them to cast someone who doesn't live up to the woman who has been by his side for decades? The mother of his children?

Regarding Disney forcing him, show me one piece of direct evidence that proves Disney in anyway pressured Rick to cast her. Cuz if you can't, that's baseless speculation. And if you have to resort to baseless speculation, maybe try to examine why it's so important to you to hold on to this belief.

9. So, I'm racist because I hate "race swapping"?:

To start, there is a difference between "race swapping" and "color blind casting". Often times, when y'all complain about the former, you're actually mad about the latter.

It would be "race swapping" if Rick and the team decided ahead of time that they wanted a black Annabeth and ONLY allowed black actors to audition. But the actual reality was that they accepted auditions from everyone (there were white actors and non-black poc that also auditioned for the role) and chose the best person who embodied the role. They didn't "make Annabeth black" and they didn't "make Zeus black", they cast black actors for those roles.

Y'all think you're being slick with your wording. Dismissing that is implying that they did not earn their roles fair and square. Which is racist. It's the equivalent of going up to a black college student and telling them they only got in because of affirmative action. You're dismissing the achievements of a person solely because of their racial background.

For all you people complaining about "unfairness" and "forced diversity", I would think hiring based on merit would appeal to you 🤔

71% of theatrical Hollywood leads were white in 2024 in comparison to 29% POC and you still think "black washing" is a thing? You still get this angry over a black person fairly earning a role because you think in a time where Hollywood only knows to do remakes and adaptations, that the majority of lead roles still *have* to be reserved for white actors?

Once again, white people have never been excluded from Hollywood for being white. Representation has never been something you lacked nor is it something you can lose. Your anger comes from seeing a black face where you think they don't belong. Because you feel you are owed a disproportion of representation in Hollywood.

10. Woke agenda/DEI/Forced Diversity:

If you are unironically using any of these terms in a negative light, it's already too late for me to reason with you. Look up the term "dog whistle". If you are sharing the same terminology with Elon Musk and his fanboys, maybe reevaluate some things.

POC are objectively underrepresented and have been historically excluded through actual laws and policies in Hollywood. There is no such thing as "forced diversity", you have bought in to a right wing conspiracy theory.

"Woke" is a term that was intentionally appropriated from the black community. It originally meant being aware of injustice and systematic threats to the community and is now being weaponized by bigots. Good job.

Diversity and inclusion is a good thing.

11. But POC deserve to have their own stories told:

We do. And we have been fighting for it for over a century now, and we've made great strides, no thanks to y'all.

No thanks to y'all gaslighting us about how little representation we get or that representation matters at all. No thanks to y'all pushing the idea that POC can't sell globally and obscuring POC actors in international promos. No thanks to y'all continuing to whitewash even to this day (Bullet train, the beguiled, gods of Egypt, atla, every portrayal of Jesus ever, etc.). No thanks to y'all calling every piece of media that has more than one black lead and more than one queer couple "woke". No thanks to y'all throwing a fit every time a black person in a fantasy setting isn't a slave.

Fact of the matter is, y'all never cared about POC "getting their own stories", you're only parroting our own words back to us now as a politically correct way of saying, "leave white roles alone" lmao

Well fun fact, actors of color getting opportunities to play lead roles and allowing poc to "tell their own stories" are not mutually exclusive. If y'all cared that much, instead of bullying a 12 year old actress, you could actually support up and coming independent POC writers, directors, and studios 😱

12. Studios need to stop "setting up" actors of color:

Do me a favor and google the term DARVO.

Your racism is not the fault of the studios for giving a POC actor a role that they earned. It is not up to the rest of society to tiptoe around racists to avoid their vitriol. It is our responsibility to hold them accountable and protect minorities from unwarranted hate. At most, you can say it's the responsibility of the studios to provide adequate support to POC actors who face this backlash.

At the end of the day, Hollywood only allows very few spots for POC actors (especially WOC), while simultaneously pushing a new white boy every month to put in everything. Putting minorities in these roles that are usually closed to them, usually opens the door to more actors of color than before.

Brandy being cast as Cinderella did a lot to push her into the mainstream (yes, she was already extremely famous in the black community atp), Halle Berry being the first, black, bond girl literally shot her to icon status, and even going as far back to what Anna Mae Wong did for Asian American actresses with her "femme fatale" roles.

At the end of the day, even with the backlash, *some* rep does more good for POC actors than *no* rep. The solution to racist backlash isn't to take away those opportunities, but rather to not be racist??? 🙄

Also, for everyone that claims that "POC race-swapping" is just as bad as "white-washing", despite white washing having a longer history and objectively causing more harm, note how the backlash to white washing never lasts as long as the harassment that POC get.

Like, no one brings up Scarlett Johansson's ghost in the shell role anymore, but you can best believe Candace Patton is still fending off racist trolls. As much as people hated the atla movie, people moved on quick from Nicola Peltz playing Katara since she was just a kid that accepted the role (re: daddy bought her the role), but y'all would not have any of that consideration for Leah Sava Jeffries.

But I digress...

13. What if we made Tiana white? Wakanda white? Hazel white...:

Ah, my favorite inane point. I was so excited to get here :)

See, I could start out by pointing out how "White washing" and casting a POC actor as a traditionally white character are not equivalent.

I could point out the history of hollywood ACTIVELY excluding POC actors and POC stories. I could point out how grossly over represented white people are in hollywood. I could point out that POC characters are so few in comparison that whitewashing them causes actual harm, where white people have never lacked rep.

I could point out how, because poc characters and stories are so often tokenized that their racial/cultural background is often directly tied to their character's identity, in opposition to a lot of white characters, since hollywood treats white as the "Default".

See, I could make all those points, but the thing is, the people who make this argument already know all that. They are trying to waste time by drawing me into a pointless circular argument that will sum up to "fair is fair", while ignoring all the context and nuance I previously provided.

So you know what? Forget it. Let me play your game.

I am actually fine with a white Tiana. Would it make sense, for her and her family to experience Jim Crow era racism, in the south while white? No. But we can look past it. Disney was never known for historical accuracy anyway 🤷🏿‍♀️

However, in exchange, the live action frozen will have a black Elsa and Anna, live action Rapunzel will be black, live action Merida will be black, we're re-filming Cinderella and Beauty and the beast to cast a black belle and Cindy, snow white will need to be recast as black, and we also get aurora whenever the live action sleeping beauty is announced. But then y'all can keep Tiana, deal?

You want a white T'Challa? Fine! (I'm partial to Ryan gosling), in the meantime, we'll be recasting Iron man, Captain America (Steve version), Bruce banner, Thor, Loki, hawk eye, black widow, ant man, captain marvel, Bucky, Peter Parker etc. All the avengers and their side characters, then y'all can have Sam Wilson, war machine and the whole of Wakanda (will it make sense that a sole, hidden, African nation is randomly made up of white people? Who cares? We get the avengers!).

You want white Hazel? You got her! I hope you have no problem with us taking Percy, Nico, Will, Poseidon, Jason, calypso, Rachel, Tyson, Silena, the stoll brothers, Sally Jackson, Hades, Hepheastus, ares, etc. But y'all can have Hazel and Beckendorf.

If we're gonna do this, let's commit all the way. Fair is fair, after all.

14. Leah isn't as "pretty" as Book Annabeth/Movie Annabeth:

I wish I could say this wasn't a genuine point I had read, but when all else fails, they will always go for a woman's appearance.

Now first of all, as a rule, I will never hold black women to white beauty standards. Our hair will never be long and silky enough, our nose will never be narrow enough, our skin will never be fair enough and our eyes will never be light enough (Might I recommend Toni Morrison, when you get the chance?). But Leah is unfairly gorgeous idc what any of you say, and you're not gonna have me use my defense of Leah as an opportunity to bash Alexandra either because she is also beautiful. These two queens slayed to the best of their abilities within this toxic ass fandom.

I find it funny, however, that so many of you harped on the "blonde" issue because you thought it was important that Annabeth be seen beyond just her looks, but quickly devolve to bashing an actress's looks when it comes to why she's not right for this role 🤔

I would also like to sincerely apologize that the 13 year old girl they cast in the show, wasn't as sexually attractive to you as the 24 year old woman they cast in the movie and sexualized through like 25% of her screen time (I'm actually not sorry. You're very weird if this is an actual point for you).

15. I don't agree with sending hate to the actor, but she's just not right for the role:

Once again, what are you doing by complaining about her casting on no other basis than her race?

The creator of the character said she embodied the role. She has already been cast, and Disney would be in a legal/production hell to recast her atp. Just because you're not directly leaving comments on her social media doesn't mean you're not part of the hate mob.

No matter how you look at it, your issues with her casting come from a very entitled and narrow-minded place. When you join in on these dialogues you are bolstering a sentiment that pushes more people to harass this teenage girl. When you leave these "harmless" complaints, on show content, fan posts or posts defending her, she's liable to read them because the cast regularly interact with fans online.

What do you have to say that is so important that it trumps protecting a young girl from the long-staying trauma of racism, of being told she doesn't deserve something she worked for because of how she was born?

16. I can't even criticize the show without being called racist:

Get. Over. Yourself.

Y'all are not the victim. Have fans of the show gotten protective of Leah and the young cast? Yes.

With good reason. This fandom is unbearably toxic.

Racism outweighs your need for a "perfect adaptation", sorry.

If you explain yourself properly and keep your critiques fair (like, even I don't think this was a perfect season, and will be sharing my thoughts shortly), no one is gonna call you racist.

You're preempting with that because in all honesty, you're probably planning to use your "critiques" of the show to pivot to one of the many points that I just outlined, and you want to pre-empt the criticism.

If a black Annabeth is the end all be all for you, just don't watch the show, no one's holding a gun to your head. Geez.

17. I'm Black/POC and I don't agree...:

Hey, Candace Owens... No one gives a shit.

First of all, for all the "I'm POC and I don't agree" people, you don't speak for us. Anti-blackness is rampant in just about every culture globally. You being not-white doesn't somehow make you less prone to hating black people.

But for the "I'm black and I don't agree" leftovers (assuming you're not just a 👩🏼‍💻 behind a keyboard). Black people are not a monolith. You're not obligated to think a certain way because you're black.

But consider why you're putting yourself up as a barrier to protect this hate mob. It's one thing to just state why you don't like Leah's casting, but to start off your spiel with "I'm actually black" as a way to weaponize the very identity politics you're critiquing... very strange. Not to mention, what are you defending?

The black community is coming together to defend one of our own, a kid who has been receiving death threats since she was 12, and this is when you feel the need to back the opposition?

I mean whatever... sometimes the house slaves would snitch to the master. There will always be some of y'all in the woodwork. It is what it is.

But when the exact ideology you defend is turned against you, when a Baltimore elected official is being accused of getting his job through "DEI", when conservatives are claiming that they wouldn't "trust a black pilot", don't decide that's where you'll finally draw your line in the sand.

All that being said, This is my Annabeth:

May every tongue that rose against Leah Sava Jeffries Shrivel and die in 2025 🙏🏿 My girl will keep winning ❤️

(video by @/waleahhasmyheart on TikTok)

[luiluvr]

let it grow || luigi mangione

dad!luigi i love u forever :( based off this request! spent a lot of time listening to let it grow, cause the Lorax soundtrack goes hard, also this is to the person who wanted boy dad luigi!! <3

WARNINGS: none! no uses of y/n, & i didn't give the kids a name this time — leaving it to ur imagination! slightly proof read

SUMMARY: after taking a wind-down shower, you hear murmurs from the kid's bedroom, Luigi is reading them his (and their) favorite bedtime story: The Lorax.

WC: 1k

The Lorax. Always The Lorax. 

Luigi’s all-time favorite as a child, he was so giddy when you both finally had children of your own – he made sure he had the book on hand at all times. Even when they were babies that didn’t fathom what was happening; he’d read to them. Again and again, honestly you get sick of hearing the same story all the time. It’s meaningful to him, which is respectable, for it being a children’s book it reflects the real world plenty.

Most kids wanted to read other books by now, but your two sons never complained once when they asked Luigi to read to them. When he pulled out The Lorax, they’d be so excited. They just loved hearing him read, he had this aura. He would express the characters so well, exclaim and imitate sounds; so the kids preferred him reading over you. You read to them every so often when Luigi wasn't readily available, but besides then, he was theirs for bedtime stories.

For the night you left Luigi to get the kids tucked in to bed while you showered, you needed that fifteen-minutes of peace and quiet, he never turned down the opportunity to do something with the kids while benefiting you in the process.

You managed to wash off, get your hair dried so it wasn’t uncomfortable to sleep at night. Luigi didn’t seem too invested in doing a lot tonight, so you figured he wouldn’t. Until you went out into your room and heard some murmuring down the hallway. You raise an eyebrow and slowly walk towards the noise, mid-cleaning your ears.

“That was long, long ago. But each day since that day I've sat here and worried and worried away. Through the years, while my buildings have fallen apart, I've worried about it with all of my heart.” Luigi’s voice echoes softly as you peer into the door, smirking softly as he uses his best Once-ler voice.

“But now,” he says softly, “Now that you're here, the word of the Lorax seems perfectly clear. UNLESS someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not.” The two boys with thick curls on their small heads, similar to Luigi’s – look at him. Listening intently. Despite hearing this story a hundred times before, it was as if they were still taking it in for the first time – all over again. They were curled on either side of him, watching the pages. 

His gaze shifts to the boys, and he smiles, not quite finished reading but wanting to interact. “So, what does that mean exactly?” 

“If somebody doesn’t care, then nothing’s gonna get better?” For kids their age, they caught onto things well. Or it’s the fact Luigi has explained every waking detail of this book even though they 100% didn’t understand the worldly concepts connected to the writings.

“That’s right, so suppose something’s not right in your life, you have to care a lot about it to actually fix it. You can say ‘yeah, I want to be better about this,’ but never do anything. It can also mean about different timeline movements that changed our world today. Like racial equality, or women’s rights. If no one ever actually cared enough to change those things, do you think the world would be how it is?”

“No.” The youngest says. He’s only three-years-old so his vocabulary was still a work in progress. 

“I don’t think so dad.” The older boy murmurs from his bed.

“You’re right,” he began, until your older boy interrupted. “Dad, do you think when Dr. Seuss was  writing that he was thinking about the world we live in rather than the one he created?” His voice was pitchy, and he stumbled on a few words, but for a five-year-old it was rather impressive – even to you.

Luigi smiled at that, he was so proud his boy was learning, soon the youngest would pick up on it too, he was just too little right now. He only liked the drawings – a very simple boy. “Absolutely, kiddo. If I could prove any theory I’ve ever had, it would be this book, right here,” he gestures at the small hard-back cover he’s had since he was a child. “Is based on our reality.” 

It always fascinated you how Luigi had such a way with the two little ones. “So… Catch!’ Calls the Once-ler. He let something fall. ‘It’s a Truffula seed. The last one of all! You're in charge of the last of the Truffula Seeds. And Truffula Trees are what everyone needs. Plant a new Truffula. Treat it with care. Give it clean water. And feed it fresh air. Grow a forest. Protect it from axes that hack. Then the Lorax and all of his friends may come back.’

“They let it grow!!” Your oldest giggles. He really liked the book, but Luigi recently introduced them to the animated film, and he adored the music the most.

“They let it grow indeed.” He smiles.

Luigi flipped through the final two pages, gently shut the book and gazed over his sons. They gave him cheesy grins as he sat the book on a small shelf by the bedside, your oldest scurried back to his bed across the room, while the youngest admired his father – and for a moment his eyes flicker to you.

You winked at him before Luigi gave them both goodnight kisses. In unison their youthful voices, “Night daddy!” 

“Goodnight you two, get lots of sleep. I love you.”

“Love you too!” 

“Wuv you!”

Luigi chuckled, and turned off their lamp, leaving only the illumination from a small dinosaur night light you bought when your first was born. You waited outside, causing Luigi to jump slightly when he shut the door. “You’re always lurking around, y’know that?”

You chuckle, “yes, how cruel of me… Those kids are going to be able to repeat that book word for word one day.”

“Yeah, well. It teaches them a really important lesson.”

“Does it?”

“Very much so, my love.”

“And what’s that?" You grin, holding his arm as you both walk to your room.

"That I was the only one willing to read to them."

[goldberrg]

surely "bestfriends"

summary : You and Billy have been best friends for a while, but when he comes over unexpectedly.

TW's – cursing, sex (in details)

The end of your pencil tapped against the edge of your desk, the side of your head resting on your hand. Your leg bounced to the same rhythm as your pencil, while you listened to your teacher finish up telling you guys about a project. You were all reading "Pride and Prejudice", or at least had read it, and now needed to do the final project for it. You were aloud to work in groups of up to four, but you knew you'd only be working with one person – your best friend, Billy Hargrove.

Billy's step-mom, Susan, and your own mother were close friends. They worked together, and when you had been invited over for dinner the first week they moved to Hawkins, you and Billy had clicked. The two of you spent most of the night in his room, flipping through his vinyl's and helping him hang up his posters. You couldn't help but mock him about the clichè Playboy posters he had, and all the random crap in his room. But the two of you hit it off, becoming close friends quick.

And now he was your partner for every english assignment, art project, and science project. Those were the three classes you shared together. The first time you tried pairing up with someone other than him, a girl named Cheryl, he didn't speak to you for three whole days. Even when he drove you to and from school, he blared his music so loud your ears rang for hours afterwards.

Only after the project was over, and you showed up at his door with two tickets to see a movie.

Once your teacher had finished giving out her information and instructions, the class dispersed to get with their groups or partners. You leaned your head back, already finding Billy getting up from his seat behind you. He tossed his backpack onto the now-vacant desk beside yours, slamming his body into the chair with a grunt. This was your cue to get up and go get the poster board you would need for the project. You returned with a plain, white board compared to the other varying colors of purple, green, blue and red.

— Get your gross feet off the desk. — you ordered, glaring down at Billy since your hands were preoccupied. Billy rolled his eyes, but complied and removed his feet, the legs of the chair falling back onto the floor.

— Alright, doll, what's the plan? — Billy questioned, reaching into your backpack and pulling out your personal copy of the book. You'd already read the book various times throughout middle school and early high school, so you and Billy switched off borrowing your book.

— I figured I'd paint the board, sort of like a collage. Have different things on it. — you explained, looking down at him from the other side of the desk.

— Sounds good to me. We have two weeks, right? — he asked, quirking an eyebrow up at you.

— Yup, so if you don't finish the book by then, I'll kick your fucking ass. — you hissed, watching as he paused his skimming through the book.

— What?

— There weren't any lions in the book, jerk. You have two days to finish it. You're three fourths done, because that's how much we've read together, so you can finish a hundred pages by Thursday. — you sighed, rolling your eyes.

You walked over and sat in your own chair.

— Yeah, yeah, alright Your Highness. — he grumbled, closing the book and tossing it on top of the poster. — What else? We're doing the whole 'main characters, theme, plot, climax' stuff, right?

— Of course that's the only word you'd remember. — you grinned, shoving his shoulder as he laughed. — The dramatic structure, yes. And all the other stuff. We'll split it up. — you said, putting the book away. — You're coming over after dropping Max off, right? — you asked, standing up.

— Yeah. Most likely around 4:00. — he said, standing up as well when the bell rang and slinging his bag over his shoulder. — Let's go, doll.

Once Billy dropped you off at home, you laid the poster board on your bed and your backpack by your desk. You decided to shower and change into comfy clothes before Billy came over, after all you had about an hour. So you grabbed a pair of skull pajama pants and a big shirt, before heading into the bathroom. You turned the water on high, stripping off your clothes from the day, leaving you in your underwear. Grabbing your moms essential rose oil, you dropped a couple drops into the shower before leaving it slightly unopened on the rack next to the shower. The smell would help relieve the tension of the day, and get you focused for schoolwork. Finally, you took off your bra and underwear, stepping in.

The hot water hit you in the face, and you welcomed it. Scrubbing your face, you made sure to get your mascara and concealer off so that when you got out you wouldn't look horrifying. You let the water travel to your hair, smoothing it down your shoulders. Steam filled up the bathroom, the smell of rose invading your senses.

The roaring of the water was so loud that you didn't hear your front door open or Billy shouting for you name.

Billy pulled up to your driveway, hopping out of his car and heading up to the front door. Max had been dropped off at Mike's, not Dustin's, so it was a lot closer than he thought. He decided not to stop at home afterwards, and just head straight to your place. So he got there around 3:20, rather than 4:00. Not that big of a deal.

Banging on the door, Billy waited a minute or two for you to answer. When you didn't, he tried again, but louder. After the third time, Billy just barged in, rolling his eyes at the fact it was unlocked.

— Hey! Y/N? — he called out, hearing the shower running. Kicking his shoes off by the door, Billy tossed his jacket onto the back of your couch. He didn't hear a response from you, so he headed towards the bathroom. Knocking on the door with his knuckles, he leaned against the frame.

— Come in! — Billy's eyes shot open, looking at the closed door in shock.

As you were putting shampoo into your hair, you heard a knock on the bathroom door. You looked over at it through the glass doors, thinking of who it could be. Your mom wouldn't be home until later, and an intruder wouldn't fucking knock. So you probably lost track of time, and it was Billy.

— Come in. — you called out, not minding if he did or not. The glass walls were textured and opaque so he wouldn't be able to see anything porn-worthy.

And the two of you had paraded around in front of each other with your underwear on before, it wasn't much different. There was a pause before the door creaked open, and the outline of Billy came in.

— Sorry I'm early, doll. — he said, his voice darker than normal. — It didn't take as long to drop Max off. And I figured I'd stop by right after to get a head start on the project, maybe hang out for a while. I didn't realize you'd be naked.

— It's fine. — you laughed, opening the door slightly so you could poke your head out. He was sitting on the sink counter, shirtless. Every other girl in Hawkins was wet for Billy Hargrove, how could they not be? And of course you fell into that category. But you couldn't express it like they could, even though you were closer to him than they were. A few times a week, you'd find your hand sneaking down your underwear, his name leaving your mouth as you writhed against your sheets.

— Don't take too long, alright? — Billy pleaded, when he looked up and saw you looking out of the shower. His cheeks were red, but you passed it off as the hot steam. — Why the hell does it smell like roses in here? There aren't any flowers. — he questioned suddenly, lifting his nose in the air and diverting his eyes away from your wet neck.

— It's my momma's rose oil. I use it to relax. — you said, a 'duh' tone to your voice as you closed the door. — And I'll take however damn long as I please.

— Course you will. — Billy grumbled, and you smirked to yourself. You washed away the shampoo as Billy fired off more questions. — Why do you need rose oil to relax? Doesn't that burning water help?

— Not entirely. It helps my muscles from being hunched over all day, and the steam helps with my nose. But the rose oil adds the extra flare. It's rejuvenating.

— Rejuvenating? The hell's that supposed to mean? — Billy ridiculed, hopping off the counter and moving closer to the door so he could hear you better over the shower.

— It's like... I don't know Billy! — you huffed, opening the door suddenly and popping your head out. You were startled when you came face-to-face with him, noticing the way his eyes darted down to your nearly exposed chest and back up. — It helps with headaches, my skin if I apply it directly onto it, and the smell is just nice. Don't you think? It's just fucking relaxing. Unlike you right now. It's amplified in the shower, so I apologize if you're not getting the full treatment. — you snapped, getting frustrated. Having Billy so close in an intimate setting was rough, especially when you couldn't touch. It was like a goddamn museum, you can look, drool and adore. But if you touch, you're getting arrested.

— I'm getting the full treatment just fine, baby. — Billy snickered, leaning closer to you as his eyes dragged up and down your hidden form. Your face heated up, and you shot your hand out, shoving his face back.

— Pff, yeah right, Hargrove. — you scoffed, closing the door and diving under the water. Your breathing was heavy and you tried to mellow it out by focusing on your conditioner.

— You still with that Caden guy? — Billy suddenly asked, his voice now on the other side of the doors, causing your eyebrows to furrow.

— No, I broke it off two weeks ago. Remember? He couldn't decide if he wanted me or Jenny more, even though he was fucking her the whole time.?— you laughed dryly, running the conditioner through your hair as you shook your head at the memory.

— Good. — Billy muttered, but you still caught it. — You could do so much better than him.

— Yeah? — you laughed, shaking your hair to even out the conditioner. — Like who, you?

— Exactly like me. — you stopped, and turned to the end of the doors. There was an audible zipping sound, causing your heart to speed up.

— That so? And what makes you think that, Billy? — you called out, biting your lip and turning to face the water again, washing out the conditioner, in hopes of calming yourself. Your heart hammered against your chest when you heard the shower doors open, as if it was about to leap out of your throat. You didn't turn around however, opting to close your eyes as the water hit your face.

— Cause. — he replied simply, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

Your eyes shot open as rough hands gripped at your hips, spinning you around. Your arms collided with Billy's chest, your head tilting up to look at him. His blond hair was beginning to stick to his face, and his blue eyes stuck out more than ever against the tiles. You weren't given anymore time to admire him, because his lips were on yours instantly. Both of you were swallowing water, your lips pushing against each other desperately. Billy walked the two of you backwards carefully, making sure you didn't slip, until your back hit the wall. You were now out of the harsh spray of the water, and you broke away to gasp for clear air.

— Are you.. — you attempted to ask, not wanting him to regret this, and have the friendship ruined.

— Yes, yes I'm sure, Y/N. — Billy said, not giving you the chance to finish. His hand reached up, pushing your wet, dark hair out of your face before leaning back down to capture you in another demanding kiss. Your fingers tangled in his damp curls, tugging slightly when his hands gripped your waist tightly.

Billy moved his hands under your thighs and crouched, indicating you to jump, and you did. Your legs tightened around his waist for dear life, knowing that if either of you gave out it'd end in a naked hospital trip.

— Fuck. — you moaned out, breaking the kiss as his cock rubbed against your pussy, tilting your head back. Billy ducked his head, attaching his mouth to the center of your throat, biting the thin flesh before sucking it. You whimpered, moving your body up and down the slick wall slightly, giving the both of you more friction. His nails dug into your ass, pinning you to the wall so you couldn't move.

— Don't do that, princess. — he warned lowly, vibrating against your throat. You could feel the occasional pulse of his cock against you, and you wanted nothing more than for it to be in you. Whether it was your mouth or pussy, you didn't care. You just wanted it.

— Billy, please. — you whined, after having waited patiently for him to finishing sucking on your neck.

— What do you want, baby. — he growled, pulling back to look up at you. You didn't answer him, instead you held onto his shoulders tightly so you could unwrap your legs without death. Once your feet were safely on the ground, you flipped the two of you, so his back was against the wall and your back was facing the water. Giving him a smirk, you kissed the corner of his mouth before getting on your knees. Billy's tongue darted out, licking along his lips while looking down at you, his hand running through your wet hair. Grabbing his dick in your hand, you pulled at it a few times, twisting your hand along the base. Leaning down, you gave the tip a few kitten licks, gathering the pre-cum onto your tongue. Looking up at Billy, you waited until his eyes fluttered closed before taking the beginning of his dick into your mouth.

— Ugh, Y/N. — Billy grunted, his hold on your hair tightening. You smiled internally, licking the underside of his cock, and then left to right in order to ease your mouth farther down. It took a few minutes, but soon enough the tip had gone past your tonsils. Your eyes were watering, and saliva was dribbling out of the edges of your mouth. Billy's hips bucked against your mouth, his tight grip on your hair giving you a steady rhythm. Continuous moans streamed out of his mouth, and eventually you were roughly pulled off of his dick.

— Not yet, baby. — he said, more so to himself than you. You understood what he meant, and grinned in satisfaction. Putting his finger under your chin, Billy guided you to stand up. Holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger, Billy pulled you in for a slower, more passionate kiss. Your hands rested on his chest, relishing in the warmth of the water and his body. His free hand traveled down the small of your back, tickling you as he went, before gropping your ass.

— Billy.. — you gasped, your voice breathless. You grinded yourself against him again, growing impatient. You looked into his eyes, chewing on your bottom lip to keep in your needy whines. Billy simply smirked down at you, fully aware of what it was you wanted – no, needed.

— Hmm? — he hummed, a wicked grin on his face. You let out an impatient huff, ducking your head to harshly bite at his shoulder. Billy hissed out, the hold on your ass tightening before it released. You thought he was just gonna move you two, but instead he brought his hand down in a harsh slap.

— Ah, Fuck. — you cried out in shock, arching your back.

— Don't bite. — he warned, and then he finally pushed your body against the wall on the side, the cool tile instantly calming down your burning ass cheek.

— Then fuck me already, you jerk. — you snapped, running your thumb over the bite mark on his shoulder. Billy's eyebrow rose at your bold statement, and you simply grinned up at him. His fingers ran down your stomach, tracing at your curves and marks of imperfections. He kept eye contact with you as his middle and ring finger dipped between your folds, slowly dragging from your entrance to your clit. Your body jumped at finally being touched, a sigh leaving your mouth. His thumb rolled around your nub, your hips jerking occasionally, while his middle finger worked it's way inside you. A small grunt sounded in your throat, and you held onto Billy's shoulder, leaning your head against the wall. Once his middle finger was in to the knuckle, he pushed in his ring finger and began pumping them in and out of you, curling them.

— Ugh. — you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulder. Billy started kissing his way around your jaw, neck and chest, occasionally licking your nipple for fun. He added his forefinger after a minute, another moan escaping. You bit your lip, hard, holding in another whimper.

— Why are you being so quiet, princess? It's just us. — he mused, biting at your earlobe.

— I don't wanna boost your ego. — you snickered, yelping when his thumb pressed down on your clit and his fingers dug inside you even more.

— Yeah, well. — he laughed, shaking his head. — You can't hide the sounds you're making down here. — he snickered, slowly pulling his three fingers out of you and bringing them to his mouth. His tongue moved between his fingers, licking your juices and the shower water off of them. You watched, mesmerized.

Once his fingers were cleaned to his liking, he gripped the back of your thighs, having you jump up again. He gave you a nod, questioning if you were ready or not. You nodded yours quickly, having been ready for this for months. Aligning his cock with your entrance, Billy didn't have the ability to ease himself in because of your guys positions. So with one quick thrust, he was inside you, his hand splayed out against the wall and the other gripping your ass.

— Fuck. — you screamed, throwing your head back, crying out when it hit the wall. Billy was big, bigger than his three fingers. Your arms pulled him closer, trying to even out your breathing and relax your muscles around him. Billy didn't move, small moans being breathed into the crook of your neck.

— I'm sorry, doll. — he whispered, knowing it hurt. You didn't have lube or a condom, and not much preparation.

— No, no, don't apologize. — you said quickly, squeezing yourself around him to emphasize. — It's fine. You can.. you can start.

Billy removed his head to look at you, but when you gave him a nod he started moving. He thrusted slowly, not wanting to lose his grip on you or push your body. Both of you were breathing heavily, and you moved your body along his, matching his thrusts with your own.

— God. — he moaned, pulling his cock farther out before slamming back in, continuing the movement over and over again. Your nails scratched their way over his shoulder blades, biceps, back and anywhere they could reach. The pain was decreasing as the thrusting went on, and when Billy moved you slightly to the left, slamming back in, your eyes shot open.

— Holy fuck, right there, Billy! — you shouted out, arching yourself into him.

Billy smirked up at you, licking his bottom lip and doing as you said. He quickened his pace, no longer hearing your hisses of pain, and thrusted into you quickly. The sound of his skin slapping against yours, as well as the sound of your back hitting the wall, echoed throughout the bathroom, overpowering the shower.

— Ugh, god. — Billy grunted, throwing his head back. — I can't hold out much longer, Y/N. — he moaned, looking down at you just as you opened your eyes to look at him.

— I'm close too. — you whimpered, hiking yourself higher up on the wall, screaming out when his cock hit the spot again, but deeper. — Fuck, fuck, fuck. — you moaned, a streamline of curse words leaving your mouth. — Billy, I'm.. — you tried to warn him, but a high pitched moan escaped before you could finish as the heat in the bottom of your stomach exploded. A wave of warmth washed over you, your toes curling and your thighs squeezing around Billy, pulling him closer. You mouth fell open, letting out a small, quiet gasp as you orgasmed.

Billy pulled out quickly, feeling his own orgasm wash over him, and his hot cum sprayed over your stomach and the tops of your thighs. Your head fell to his shoulder limply, your body slipping down the shower wall, as it shook from your orgasm. You could see your thighs wiggling, and Billy gently lowered you to the floor. When the cold shower water hit you, you welcomed it, letting the cum wash off of you.

— Hey. — Billy whispered, his arms wrapping around you from behind. — This isn't a one time thing. I want you to be mine.

— Good. — you grinned, a giddy feeling coming over you, more intense than your orgasm. You turned around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. — Let's go take a nap, that project can wait until later.

[gatorbites-imagines]

hello! CAN you write reader with Moon knight? (Marc, Steven, Jake)

Moon boys x male reader 

Headcanons 

Idk, I've been feeling fluffy and yearning for cuddles and snuggles so... Moon boy loving... 

I'm not the most knowledgeable about DID and the different roles alters play in a system, so I won't be going on about that. But I do believe that the boys have different roles when it comes to the moon knight system, but just what, I'm not sure. 

On to the cuddling and snuggling, cuz I've been feeling like an exposed nerve for the past week, and demand it. So y'all will have to live through that. 

Steven has the easiest time being affectionate and physical with their lover. He doesn't carry the same apprehension as Marc or Jake. He also has the easiest time talking about his feelings and needs. 

Their body temperature doesn't change depending on who fronts or anything, but I do think that stuff like their body language does.  

Steven isn't tense like the other two, and doesn't prowl like Jake and Marc can end up doing. He doesn't always look on edge and on the look-out for danger. After everything in Cairo, yeah, he's more aware, but he doesn't let it take all his peace away. 

Steven seems like the type of guy who snuggles close, like he's trying to crawl inside you. He tucks his face into your neck, arms and a leg thrown over you when he's feeling extra snuggly.  

When he gets comfortable, Steven lets out a loud puffed exhale and just melts. He always looks so damn pretty when he sleeps. They all do, if I gotta be honest. 

He likes talking before you guys go to sleep, and after reading it in a book or on some blog, he also doesn't like going to sleep when you guys are mad at each other. This also means he fronts if you are having struggles with either Marc or Jake, so you guys can talk it out too. 

His accent gets thicker in the morning or when he's really sleepy. It's kinda funny how British he can sound. You swear his hair is always more ruffled than Marc and Jake in the morning too. 

Marc doesn't sleep well, and suffers from insomnia and different anxiety and paranoia. Along with the nightmares expected of someone like Marc. 

I could imagine that in the beginning your guy's relationship, he would always be the big spoon or would stay up longer than you, to make sure you guys were safe. 

There would have been nights where he didn't sleep at all, and just laid there awake, listening to you breathe beside you. 

But when your relationship advanced, and the moon boys grew more comfortable, Marc would start allowing himself to be vulnerable. Its very small steps at a time, like sleeping with the lights completely off, or letting you be the big spoon. 

Under all his sharp edges, Marc would be touch starved. They all would. So, when he starts actually receiving cuddles, snuggles and kisses from you, Marc finds his heart almost aching. 

I could see this resulting in him trying to pull away for a period of time, because he's just not used to feeling so safe and cared for. We fear stuff we aren't used too, and especially because it makes him feel so small and vulnerable.  

But when Marc starts accepting it, he becomes a real snuggle-bug. You help ground him, better than anything has before, and being held by you can be the one thing holding him together some days. 

Likes laying with his ear against your chest when you guys sleep, so he can fall asleep to the sound of you breathing and the beat of your heart. 

He isn't much of a talker at night, but he does want to hear about your day. At some point you realize this is the easiest way to make him fall asleep. One time you were able to make him fall asleep explaining the plot of your favorite anime and everything. 

Jake takes the very longest to sleep and cuddle with you. For a good chunk of the relationship, I don't even really see Jake fronting that much. And when he does, he doesn't speak much, and doesn't hold or kiss you. 

Of course, you don't mind this. You don't want to force Jake into anything, but there are times you just yearn to hold and love him too, because you can just see the pain in him whenever he does front. 

It starts very small, like Jake fronting when the other two can't, and just being left alone with you for a while. You guys just sitting beside each other, or eating dinner on the couch and watching a movie. 

Like Marc, Jake would stay awake almost guarding you, and the other two, when you sleep. But he doesn't hold you like Marc does, instead he sits on the bed side you, sometimes holding your hand. 

The cuddling starts out small, like you falling asleep on his shoulder, or Jake fronting when you were already cuddling Steven or Marc. 

He seems the type to hold your hand and kiss the back of it before mumbling some affectionate words in Spanish, instead of the overly physically affectionate type. 

I dont think Jake ever gets as comfortable as the other two, but he grows more affectionate over time. He even ends up lying in bed with you every now and then and rests his eyes. 

He never sleeps fully, but he gets very close when you start running your fingers through his hair, or running your fingers over his facial features. 

It always ends up with Jake kissing the tips of your fingers when you start brushing his bottom lip. He normally has a furrow in his brow and a tight expression, but in moments like this, Jake lets most of the tension melt out of his body. 

[atypicalamortentia]

Their Reactions To You Reading A Spicy Book

Synopsis - The boys reactions to you reading a spicy book.

Warnings - NSFW.

Notes - Characters aged 18+!

Word Count - 1.6k.

{Caffeinate Me}

{TikTok}

SEBASTIAN SALLOW walks in on you reading a spicy book in the Undercroft. At first, he’s completely unaware of the contents of the book, that is, until he takes it off you and begins to read the lewd words aloud. Your face heats up as he reads, his eyes wandering to your form every now and then. He stops mid sentence and stares at you, “you’re seriously reading this when I’m right here?” He asks, folding his arms. 

“I thought you were busy!” You exclaim, throwing your arms up into the air. “Besides, it’s just a book.” 

“An extremely raunchy book by the sounds of it,” Sebastian grins, throwing the book onto the conjured sofa you were sitting on. He practically launches himself onto you, kissing you as if his life depended on it. 

When he pulls away from you, Sebastian is grinning like a mad man. “What?” You ask softly, almost breathless from his kiss. 

“Why don’t we enact some of that book out, hm?” He asks with a hum, fingers trailing down to buttons of your blouse. 

“Sebastian!” You gasp, face blushing red. 

“What? Don’t tell me you’re going shy now,” he grinned. “I liked the part where he spat in her mouth. Are you going to let me spit in your mouth, pretty thing?” With wide eyes you find yourself nodding slowly, watching as Sebastian’s eyes lit up. “Then let’s not waste another moment.” 

Let’s just say, after the intense sex that has Sebastian cumming multiple times, he is more intrigued by the books you read.

OMINIS GAUNT is blind, so obviously he can’t see what it is that you’re reading. Sure, he’s enquired about what you read before but you’ve always said they were cheesy romance novels, something you didn’t think he’d be interested in. It’s when you’re reading one evening, next to him in bed, that you feel it’s probably appropriate to tell him what kind of books you’re actually reading. “Ominis, are you awake?” You asked, gently shaking his shoulder to gain his attention. 

He stirs for a moment before sitting up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and facing his head towards your general direction. “What is it sweetheart?” He asks softly. 

“Wanted to tell you about this book I’m reading,” you say shyly, closing the book and placing it on your lap. Ominis nodded as you began explaining the plot to the book: a woman escapes death and is being stalked by a ‘faceless man’ both in her waking and sleeping life. “And then they have rough sex in the shower.”

Ominis’s eyes widen as the words leave your lips, completely not expecting them to fall so effortlessly. He almost choked on his saliva. He was that surprised. “I’m sorry, what?” He asks, wanting to make sure he had heard you properly. 

“They have sex in the shower,” you repeat, an awkward smile on your face. 

“You read smut?” He asks, eyes still wide as his head continues to look in your general direction. You hum at him in response and watch as his face contorts into a sly smile. “So you don’t read cheesy romance novels?”

“Sometimes!” You defend quickly. “But most of the time, it’s smutty goodness.” 

Ominis’s hand finds yours on your lap and he brings it up to his lips, pressing soft kisses to the back of your hand. “Well, do you want to go and have some shower sex?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. You pinched your legs together, desperate for some sort of friction between your pulsating cunt. “Use your words baby.”

“Yes please baby,” you whisper back almost breathlessly. 

“Come on then,” he smirked, removing his lips from the back of your hand. “And I promise, you won’t ever be able to read that scene again without thinking of me when we’re finished.”

GARRETH WEASLEY likes to read with you. Finds it’s a nice bonding experience for the two of you, but there is something about the most recent book you had picked up that felt different to him. Yes, the author was different, the writing style was different, but there wasn’t really a plot to it… it was just, porn. You couldn’t help but squeeze your legs together as you got up to a particularly raunchy part of the book, all of which didn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend. He raises an eyebrow and looks away from the sensual book scene to focus on your face, your own eyebrows knitted together as you squirmed uncomfortably. “Are you okay, pet?” Garreth asks you with a sly grin on his lips. 

“Mhm,” you respond, your hum a slightly higher pitch indicating that you were, in fact, lying to him. 

Removing his arm from around your shoulders, Garreth places a hand on your thigh and squeezes slightly. “Getting a little bit worked up there, sweetheart?” He leans in against your ear, whispering seductively. You can’t help but bite your bottom lip, trying to stop a low groan from emitting from your throat. You place the bookmark into the book and close it, turning to Garreth with a look of desperation on your face. “Do you need some help, bunny?” You nod at him and almost immediately, his fingers hook up your skirt and play with the fabric of your underwear. “You’re so wet darling, maybe we should read spicy books together more often if this is where it’ll lead.” 

Garreth climbed on top of you, pressing his lips to your neck and sucking at your flesh. “Don’t tease me,” you whimper softly, arching your back as Garreth’s fingers prod at your entrance. 

“As you wish, pet,” he growled. Let’s just say, if he was going to fuck you that way everytime, you’d ready smutty books together more often.

LEANDER PREWETT isn’t one for reading, so when you read he usually leaves you to your own devices but today was different. You were sitting in the Room Of Requirement with Leander by your side when a soft noise escapes your lips. Your eyes widen and dart towards your boyfriend who is just as surprised as you are at the noise that slipped past your lips. “What was that?” He asks, obviously teasing you. 

“Don’t know,” came your response as you casted your eyes back down to the pages of your book. 

Leander watches as you turn your attention back to the book in your hand, admiring the way your face scrunches up as you mime the words. Leander was interested now. “Whatcha reading?” He asks after a few seconds of watching you. 

“Nothing!” You exclaim, closing the book shut with a slam and turning your attention to your boyfriend. 

Leander smirked at you, “hiding something, are we?” 

“N-No,” you stuttered. 

“Let me just…” Leander yanked the book out of your hand, opening it to the page you were on before scanning the words. His eyes widened at the crude words in front of him. “You’re reading this filth?”

“It’s interesting,” you mumble, trying to reach out to take back the book. 

“Interesting? What’s interesting is that you’re getting horny over words on a page,” Leander snorts.

“I didn’t say I was horny!” 

“Oh sweetie, it’s obvious,” Leander grins down at you, throwing the book across the room and allowing it to land on the floor with a slight thud. “Need some help baby girl?” You bite down on your bottom lip and nod slightly, embarrassed by the whole ordeal. “You just sit back and let me do what I need to do baby, I’ll take care of you better than a stupid book ever could.” 

A low moan leaves your throat as Leander forces your legs open, bunching your skirt up around your hips and tugging your underwear to the side. He made you cum twice on his tongue before he finally fucked you the way you needed it after reading that book.

AMIT THAKKAR is the one who introduced you to spicy books but he didn’t think they’d become a daily occurrence for you. Every book you read outside of classes had some level of smut in them. He even gave you recommendations when you first started reading them, handing you book after book and simply exclaiming, “you’ll love them.”  

Now you were sitting in the library reading a particularly hardcore smutty book that you had discovered on your own when Amit approached you. Peering over your shoulders, he briefly read the erotic scene before looking at you with wide eyes. “What?” You ask him, raising an eyebrow. 

“This is… different,” Amit said, motioning towards the book you were holding. 

“Different? How?” You ask, tilting your head to the side in slight confusion. 

“Knife play, gunplay, blood play,” Amit read aloud, “the list goes on…” 

“What’s wrong with that?” You asked, eyebrow raising as you closed the book slowly. 

“N-Nothing!” Amir stuttered, his face blushing bright red. “I just, I didn’t think you’d be into that.”

“I just love reading smut now, thanks to you,” you reminded him, placing the book on the table. 

“Well if you’re into that, there’s actually something I want to try,” Amit mumbled shyly under his breath. He whipped his wand out of his robes and began to trace your thigh with it, getting closer and closer to your sopping clothed cunt. Your eyes widened when you realised what he meant, a blush spreading across your own cheeks now. “If you’re up for it,” he whispered, kissing your cheek.

“Meet me in the astronomy tower, five minutes,” you giggled. Standing up you rushed to the astronomy tower where, true to his word, Amit met you. He might not have had a knife, or a gun to fulfil your seemingly dark desires, but he had a wand and boy, did you make a mess of it. 

[oceansoul001]

So it's been around two weeks now since I've finished Kingdom Come Deliverance 2, and to tell you all that there has not been a single day that I haven't thought about this game would be such a big understatement. Cause I'm not sure there has been a single hour that I'm awake that I haven't thought about it. And it's so weird! Let me explain.

I mean, it's not atypical for me to be fascinated by a piece of culture, be it a game, a movie, a tv series, a book, whatever. But this, this is something else, on a completely different level, and for the love of everything I just can't explain it! Maybe two weeks it's still super fresh, maybe it's because I'm now still playing the first KCD, what keeps me within this world, but I find myself constantly going back to thinking about it, about the story, about the characters, and most of all of course about Henry & Hans, and how special they feel to me.

It is particularly weird with Henry, because he is this strange amalgam of a written character and a player character, a sort-of-my-avatar in this world, but at the same time quite defined. I cannot compare this balance to any other game protagonist really, every other (that I know of) was either one or another, with my preference being always the custom character with some defined characteristics - meaning custom looks and gender, even if the backstory or a general vibe was not changeable (like, let's say, a Dark Urge in BG3 is for me a custom character, even if some crucial parts of them are well defined). But Henry's not like that, he always looks like Henry and sounds like Henry. At the same time, the flexibility of how he can react to the world is wider than with a typical written character. And even if within the game story we cannot actually change or influence what happens, generally the same things in the main plot always happen to my Henry and to your Henry, I think we can still differ in interpretation, what it actually means for MY Henry, and it can differ from what it means for YOUR Henry. And neither of us would be incorrect.

Some people might compare this maybe to the Witcher series, which is probably the closest, yes, but for me it's still completely different. I never WAS Geralt in my heart in any game from the trilogy. I played as Geralt, I made some choices, I picked a romance, I was immersed in the stories etc, but it was always the same Geralt to me, one and established character, not MY character. Maybe because he was first and foremost the book character in my head, and much later a video game protagonist, so it might feel different for other people, but I never had with him this weird fluid feeling of being him and not being him when I played the games. And I have it with Henry. I don't know if it makes any sense at all to anybody beside me.

And with Henry, it feels different, it feels as if I partially were Henry, when I played; I would not ask myself "Hmm, what would Henry do in this situation", it was rather "What would I do", with me being Henry at that point. With me taking over the emotions that my Henry would feel at a given moment. This again might feel as a regular thing for some people, who immerse themselves easily into defined protagonists, but it is not typical for me. And I tell you more - I have this... Thing... That it is much more difficult for me to find my own voice in a male protagonist. I can love them and root for them, of course, but it is like watching a movie or reading a book. Not "becoming" them when I'm playing as them in a video game.

I'm this kind of RPG player that always, like ALWAYS, plays as a female character, if I have a choice. I've never thought about it much, or why it's that way, but it is something I am very conscious about. And with Henry it's somehow different, it's like the way he is written and presented leaves still a place for me to blend in somewhere as well, despite the fact that he actually has an unchangeable face and an unchangeable voice. ...Or maybe it is partially because of that? Meaning that Henry is NOT your 'typical male video game protagonist', thank gods. But it cannot be just that, as there are definitely more characters in other games that do not fall into this category as well, and they don't leave me with the same feeling Henry does. I cannot explain it any better I'm afraid, I just feel this special connection between myself as a player and Henry as a protagonist that I have not felt before. And it makes him so, so special to me.

With Hans it is much easier to explain of course. Everyone loves Hans. He is funny, and witty, and cocky, and caring, and emotional, and vulnerable, and yes, he is sometimes self-absorbed, but he is also this pure, naive idealist - I LOVE the part when he says to Brabant that the role of the nobility is to protect the people they rule over, because I know that he genuinely believes that! He is this type of character that I always feel the need to protect, even if he doesn't need it actually at a given moment. Like in the framework of the game, when I AM Henry, I would gladly carry him over any puddle, so that he always stays safe, and warm, and comfy, and I would die for him no questions asked at any given point, even if it meant like the worst possible game ending for me as a player. Have I already mentioned that I love Hans?

But there is also one more layer, the layer that in my head is simply labeled as "Henry&Hans", together. And this is probably THE weirdest part to explain from all of this babbling. But I've got to try. So generally, when it comes to romances in fiction, I would say that yes, I enjoy a good romance, I really like when it is part of a story, I root for characters that I like to get together. But I rarely think about it outside of enjoying said fiction. I am usually not much of a shipper, don't read fanfictions, don't download fanarts, etc. I am now trying to recall when was the last time that I was really, like REALLY invested in a fictional ship, and I don't know, I think it might have been in 2017, when The Last Jedi premiered, and I was immensely angry that Rey and Kylo Ren didn't get together. It was freaking 8 years ago!

It is a bit different when it comes to romances in video games with customizable protagonists, because in that case I don't only expect to be immersed, I demand to be immersed, so to speak, if this is supposed to work. I need to feel something, anything, to be engaged in a romance that I am supposed to be an active part of, meaning choosing a character to romance, picking dialogue options, enjoying interactions, etc. And it happens quite rare. Most of romances in video games are just an additional mechanic of a sort, and choosing "I am going to romance this character" is not much different than "I am going to buy this ship/horse/base", or less harshly "I am going to make all squad mates loyal to me", not necessarily because I like all of them equally, but because it is possible within the game, so why not.

The video game romances that truly got to me were of course mostly the ones that had some good writing behind it, or great acting, or an interesting angle. I loved my Astarion romance during my first BG3 playthrough, because it ticked all the categories mentioned above, but also something beyond that. And I never loved any other of the romances from BG3 to the same degree, even though most of them are truly great and I really enjoyed playing through them. I loved my Solas romance in DAI (and in DATV even), because it was so different, it mostly wasn't even there so to say, like it was probably the least of romance content possible to even have a romance, but it touched something in me. And... No, that's that, that were the only ones that I had feelings and emotions about as a me-player, not just as a character I am pretending to be. Up till now.

So, with Henry&Hans romance, to jump from one digression to another digression, because who is reading all this at this point anyway, for quite some time I didn't even know, and later didn't fully believe, that is in the game. I started to play KCD2 around two weeks before it premiered, and all I've heard at this point was that there is potentially some gay romance that some people were rioting about, but I didn't even care much. You see, coming back to my previous notes about not being really immersed into male protagonists, because I am not male, it was always the same, or even more true, with romances - I was actually really immersed only into romances where I can play as a female character and I can romance a male character of my choosing. Because that is how it works in my life as well. Imagine my surprise when I'm playing through this medieval simulator about some guys engaging in some politics and shit, not expecting that this is soon going to be one of the most important games in my life, and then suddenly getting smitten by these two. It was when we got to Trosky, I remember it clearly, and they told me that I have now twelve bell tolls to save Hans. MY HANS! I mean, not mine at that point, really. At that point what I felt was probably sadness, because I was sure, oh I was so sure, that they would never let us romance Hans, are you kidding me? Like two main characters that have a history together, that are actually connected to one another throughout the whole story? With Hans being present in the game as his own, fully fledged character, with his own story arc, being already our best friend? Not being in the game to serve the one purpose of being a romanceable character? And to top it all, with like two guys?! I believe I am quite media-literate, so to say, have consumed my portion of different arts, and I just know it won't happen, it can't happen. It would be a contradiction to everything we have known so far. This kind of ships happen only in our imagination, in our fanfics, in our fanarts. So I didn't even dwell on it much.

And then came the ride to Nebakov, the first in game moment when you see this dialogue option with a heart icon next to it, and what the hell, am I just imagining things? I kid you not, for the next week my mind was living in this prison of "are they fucking Hans-baiting me; I won't forgive them if they are", because I simply couldn't believe that this is actually possible, that this could be our romance option, a meaningful one!

So it was probably all of the above, finally a meaningful romance, not just something slapped on a game with a plot as a separate thing, finally a meaningful character, not a "romanceable character", but a main character with a possible romance, if you get what I'm trying to say. A character that I've already started to love. And with this incomprehensible thing of me becoming Henry when I'm playing, it clicked. It clicked as nothing else ever did in the fiction that I've experienced so far.

And now I'm sitting here, a woman in her late 30s, not queer, thinking about these two fictional guys and their fictional love, like every day, and what it means to me as a person, and I just can't!!! The weirdest feeling ever. But a wholesome one, I think.

Thank you, if for some reason you've decided to read through this, I promise that I am not crazy, or at least I thought so up till this point. Now... not so sure. I needed to vent it all somewhere, somehow, and this is probably like the only place on the internet where I won't feel very bad about spilling it all out.

[sansaorgana]

👀 Gale showing his wife just how much he missed her overseas?

hello, love! 😌 I've already written a smutty fic like that here so this time I went with a scenario of Buck coming back home and the emotional aspect of this situation since they haven't seen each other in almost two years 😳😭🥺

my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗

When Buck was leaving his wife to go to Europe, he was planning to come back to her quickly after finishing his twenty five missions as fast as possible. Or he would die, which was also a possibility. But he certainly wasn’t planning to get shot down and end up in a German camp for the rest of the war.

Every day, week, month he spent there was filled with one thought only – lost time. All the time he was losing on surviving at all costs instead of living his life at home with his wife who was bravely and patiently waiting.

“Do you think they're still waiting for us? Our girls?” DeMarco asked one evening when they were playing cards and killing time.

“You’re asking as if you were so faithful yourself,” Bucky teased him. “Plenty of men back home hunting for the military wives.”

Buck shot him an angry glance for a second. He had been faithful to his wife. And he was sure she had been faithful to him, too. He wanted to be.

“Don’t look at me like that, Buck,” his friend pushed him playfully. “You guys have seen his wife?” He asked the others and they nodded in response. They all had seen a picture of Mrs. Cleven because Buck always kept it with him and occasionally stared at it with soppy puppy eyes. “What I’m saying is that I’m sure there are lots of men ‘round town who chase her,” Bucky explained.

“Thank you for clarifying,” Gale gritted his teeth.

“And she’s only a woman after all, we’re all humans with needs,” DeMarco joined the teasing. 

Buck stood up as the men looked up at him, confused.

“Come on, we are teasing,” Bucky grinned at him.

“I will not participate in this,” his friend sat on his bed instead and opened a book to read.

It was none of his business how his friends treated their wives and relationships but he was serious about his and he respected his wife more than anything. However, their jokes and teasing had planted a seed of insecurity in his mind. 

When she held him for the first time after his return, it felt surreal. Her hands were so soft when they cupped his face, yet they squeezed him so tight that he felt like she would crush his organs. Gale couldn’t stop looking at her face, her sparkling eyes, her smile, every tiny wrinkle on her face, every little detail that he had forgotten already; that the black-and-white picture failed to capture.

He was back home but he felt like he was put in a glass jar. People’s voices sounded as if they were coming from another room. His wife’s hand squeezed his and it was the only thing grounding him. Even his own house felt odd and strange – he had remembered it differently. Now it was decorated with Welcome Home signs and filled with the neighbours patting his back and asking him millions of questions per minute.

So when they all left and he closed the door behind the last couple living down the street, Buck sighed with relief and turned around to face reality. The house was dark at this hour but there were dim lights turned on in every room on the ground floor. His wife was taking care of the dishes in the kitchen and he looked at his face in the mirror by the front door.

There were scars scattered all over his cheeks and he looked exhausted. But other than that, he was a lucky bastard who had gotten home safe and sound. Even if it had taken him much longer than expected.

Gale fixed his hair in the mirror and entered the kitchen, awkwardly leaning on the doorframe. It was his home but it didn’t feel like his space anymore. It was hers now – his wife’s. She was humming a song and washing the plates and cups with an apron put loosely over her cocktail dress.

“Where did you get a dress like that?” He asked softly and she turned around with a smile.

“Oh! You startled me for a second,” she gasped. “I’m not used to having someone creeping up on me like that,” she admitted and Buck approached her to start drying the freshly washed dishes with a cloth. He wanted to help in any way. “I bought it last week. Been saving money for something special for your return and since it took you so long to come back to me…” she chuckled nervously, “I saved quite a lot.”

“I’m sorry,” Buck blushed at her joke.

“No, baby, don’t be sorry. It was them Krauts who didn’t want to let you go, am I right?” She pushed his shoulder with hers and went back to washing the remaining cups. “If I was them, I wouldn’t want to let you go either,” she added.

She always tried to joke about almost anything, to turn everything into a situation worth laughing or at least smiling about. It was one of the things Buck adored her for.

They finished washing and drying the dishes and she took her apron off with a sigh.

“I’ll finish cleaning tomorrow,” she told him.

“I will do it. Tomorrow,” Buck told her and she smiled faintly at him.

“Come, sit on the porch with me,” she held his hand as if he was made of glass and led him outside. There was a wooden bench on the porch and a small light turned on, flowers in the pots and an ashtray.

“You smoke now?” Buck raised an eyebrow at his wife as he sat down.

“No, only sometimes. You see, I had women coming here in the evenings,” she explained and sat down next to him, “and we would sit here for hours just like that. And talk,” she added and laid her head on his shoulder.

He nearly flinched at that gesture. It was such a long time that he wasn’t used to affection anymore. Yet he craved more of it.

“I’m glad you weren’t lonely,” he whispered and put his arm around her.

“Oh, but I was… So awfully lonely,” she looked up at him and he looked down to meet her gaze. Her eyes filled with tears.

“My friends were teasing me that…” Buck swallowed thickly, “...that a woman like you… Well, that she’d be chased ‘round town by all the men here.”

He felt stupid admitting that and he knew that this sort of accusation would hurt her. But she didn’t look angry nor sad. She only chuckled.

“No men left, no,” she shook her head. “All the best ones were away or dead,” she hugged his chest and he sighed with relief. “And what about you, Major Cleven? Am I supposed to believe you’ve been faithful?”

“Not many women in a camp for the captive pilots, you know?” Buck rubbed her back.

“But I mean before that,” her finger played with one of the buttons of his shirt.

“You can ask Bucky if you don’t believe me.”

“Oh, I believe you,” she laughed. “You know, my friends teased me, too. They were saying there ain’t no way my man’s no cheater. But I knew you would never do that. I said, my Buck would rather die than look at another woman. And they all thought I was crazy,” she told him.

“You aren’t crazy,” Buck shook his head and leaned in to kiss the top of her head. “And you smell so nice. Is that a new perfume?”

“I didn’t use perfume,” she answered.

“Then it’s just you. You smell so nice,” he hummed to himself and buried his face in her hair.

She curled herself up in his arms and bit on her lip before asking in a shaky voice:

“Do you still love me?”

Gale’s heart skipped a beat as he looked down and raised her chin to make her look up.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you still love me?” She repeated the question and he took a deep breath in but she didn’t let him answer. “I know you think you do. And you had my picture but I am not that picture, Buck. I know you loved the picture and your little scenarios you were creating inside your head to keep yourself alive and I am not angry at you, not at all. But now when you’re back and when you see me, do you still love me or are you disappointed? Perhaps some part of you wishes I was that picture instead?” Her lower lip trembled as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“I don’t know what to say, darling,” he admitted and wiped her cheeks with his thumbs. “But I can show you. Come,” he stood up gently and raised her up with him to lead her back inside and pick her up bridal style to carry her upstairs to their bedroom. Her bedroom. He hadn’t slept there for almost two years.

Buck switched the light on and laid his wife on the bed gently as she kicked her shoes off of her feet. He hovered over her on bed and joined their lips together in a sweet and gentle kiss as his fingertips caressed her jaw and neck.

“I missed you,” he whispered after breaking the kiss and looking deep into her eyes. “I missed the real you. That picture was never enough,” he assured her and she smiled at him before throwing her hands around his neck to pull him down for another kiss. Hers was more eager, though; it was hungry and sloppy and it encouraged him to roam his hands more freely all around her body.

“I’m scared,” she breathed out. “I’m scared that I’ve grown too used to being alone.”

“You’ll grow used to having me around again the same way. I’m not letting you go, sweetheart,” he bopped on her nose and she rolled her eyes with a chuckle.

“Buck Cleven, my hero,” her delicate hands cupped his cheeks and caressed the scars with her fingertips.

“I’m no hero,” he protested.

“To me you are,” she insisted and furrowed her brows. “You had to be in so much pain and I wish I could take at least some of it.”

“I would never want you to,” Buck kissed her wrist softly. “It would spoil all your sweetness.”

“Oh, it’s already spoiled. You haven’t seen me at my worst,” she confessed and he looked at her face, worryingly. “When I was going crazy without you here all alone. You’d send me to asylum if you saw.”

“I would not,” he assured her, seriously. “You haven’t seen me at my worst either. I don’t think you would like me like that,” he swallowed thickly as the horrific memories flashed in front of his eyes. “The things I did to come back to you…”

“Shh, I don’t have to know,” she pulled his face down and placed soft kisses upon his cheeks, nose and chin. “Unless you want to share it with me one day. But you don’t have to tell me anything, Buck.”

“I’m just so happy to be home,” he whispered almost inaudibly, their faces so close that their lips were touching.

“And I’m happy to have you back, baby,” she smiled and fixed his hair.

“Every breath was for you, every step, every bomb I dropped, every bullet I avoided, every day and every night. Just to come back to you,” he kept looking deep into her eyes. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

“Major Cleven,” she shook her head and rubbed her nose with his, “your wife would wait a million years for you, don’t you know…?”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[ravenclaws-stuff]

Theodore Nott x reader

Tags: hurt/comfort, hurt in this part, established relationship, Theo makes a pros and cons list of dating you, reader avoids Theo like the Filch avoids a bath, reader is not in Slytherin

A/n: Never really wrote something this angsty before so please let me know if you like it

Pros and Cons part one

I sigh, falling onto the bed. The aroma of ash and cedar floats around me. He is late. Theo was supposed to meet me in his dorm to study yet he is late. Theo and I have been dating for three months. I couldn’t believe it when he asked me out. I mean Theo is cold and shut off from the world except his small group of friends.

Fate introduced us, well in the shape of Slughorn. The potion’s professor assigned us as partners. First, he didn’t talk. Only answered in grunts and hums. Over time, he would chuckle at my remarks or correct me throughout our potions. We would study together in the library or the courtyard if I could convince him that he needed sunshine. Eventually, it evolved to late night talks in the astronomy tower where he asked me out.

Standing up, I look around the dorm. Not much in here. No personal touches. Books stacked neatly on his desk. I run my fingers along the desk, smiling to myself. No dirt. Theo is such a neat freak. My brow furrows as I spot a wad of paper sticking out from under the desk. I bend down to pick it up. Its probably just an old sheet of homework. I unfold it, my heart lodging in my throat as I read the words.

Pros and cons of Dating Y/n

Pros

Beautiful, so beautiful it hurt look at times

Smartm freakishly smart

Fantastic sense of humor

Kind, tutors the younger students

Loves to eat, I can't wait to cook her Nana’s special recipe

Never shies away from me

Cons

Different house

Sometimes too bubbly

Bossy

Wants a real relationship

The paper falls from my fingers, floating to the ground. Tears that I tried so hard to fight fall down my cheeks. I take an unsteady step back, shaking my head. Out. I need out. The door slams shut behind me. A real relationship? Is that not what he wants.

I managed to avoid Theo for three days before he cornered me. Well pulled me into an abandoned classroom. “Why are you avoiding me?” Theo asks, voice laced with exhaustion. The dark spots under his eyes tell me he hasn’t been getting any sleep. “I don’t know-” Theo shakes his head. “Please do not insult either of our intelligence by acting like you have no clue what I am talking about.” I gulp, walking around to sit on a dusty desk. “Amore please tell me what's wrong?” I shake my head, tears forming at the nickname. “Please?” Theo whispers, kneeling in front of me.

“I found the list you made.” Theo fliches as if I had slapped him. “W-what list?” The tears blur my vision as I will them not to fall. “The pros and cons list of dating me.”

The air between the two of us tense. “Amore please let me explain.” The sadness I have felt for the last three days turn into red hot anger. I laugh dryly. “What is there to explain? You had to make a list about me in order to figure out if you wanted to date me.” I stand up, crossing the room. I needed space from Theo. “Amore please you have to understand I was scared, terrified really. You make me feel things I have never felt before. Its not an excuse though. I should have never done it.” Theo says, standing off the ground. “Why did you?” I ask, hating how small my voice sounded. “I was so nervous about the way you made me feel. So Draco and Blaise suggested to make a list. A list of reason on what I like about you. Pansy told me it was a stupid idea.” I nod, my frown deepening. “What about wanting a real relationship? That was on the con list.” Theo tenses before before taking a step forward. “I’ve never done this before. Wasn't sure if I could handle a real relationship.” I glare at him, throwing my hands up in the air. “You asked me out remember. I am not forcing you.” Theo sighs, rubbing the crease in between his eyebrows. “Thats- that's not what I meant.” He takes another forward. “I want a relationship with you. I want this.” He says, pointing at the space between us. I nod, wiping my cheeks. “So do I but I need space. That list hurt me. You put my insecurities on a sheet a paper to not date me. Just, i'm sorry Theodore.” I say, rushing out of the classroom without sparing Theo a second glance. The sound of desks being shoved brings another round of tears to my eyes. “Fuck!” Theo roars from the classroom.

What do I do now?

[the-joy-of-knowledge]

Bloom's Taxonomy: A 6 step guide to improve your learning

I am so excited to be back!!! I hope you all enjoy this because it has been helpful in my self-development journey.

Remember: When reading a paragraph, a chapter or even a book. It is important to know why you are reading it and if you were assigned this reading, you need to know what is expected of you. With his in mind, endeavor to read, retain and recall the information. This looks like take a pauses to recall what you have learned. You will not remember exactly what you read but you will notice some gaps, so back to you reading and figure what the missing parts.

Understand: Try to make meaning of what you have remembered. Explain it to yourself, write it in simpler terms, ask yourself questions on this. if you memorized the definition of photosynthesis as "the process by which plants and certain bacteria use sunlight, water, and carbon dioxide to create oxygen and sugar (glucose). Try to describe this definition to a sibling or someone who has no idea what it means. if possible watch a video that visually describes the process. Understanding goes beyond regurgitating. Because you can only begin to apply what you have learned only when you understand. It is also at this point that you will encounter difficulties especially if the subject is dense and complicated. Use the resources at your disposal and ask questions.

Apply: Use what you know already about the subject in this new context. Back to my photosynthesis example, what do you already know already and pose that as a question. Does photosynthesis have anything to do with the color of leaves? If it needs sunshine, then what happens when there is barely any sun? Let's try this for a subject as esoteric as physics. "Electromagnetism is the physical interaction among electric charges, magnetic moments, and electromagnetic fields." I do not know enough about electromagnetism but I know that Tesla is an electric car. Wouldn't it be fun to quickly google whether electromagnetism is applied to Tesla's engineering? This step is crucial because you are using a familiar object in an unfamiliar territory. (This is very simplified and studying physics isn't as easy as I portray it. This is only a guide )

Analyze: When analyzing, you want to explore the similarities and differences you have noticed in your readings. How do two seemingly different authors give a unique perspective to the subject you are reading? Can you categorize which information is relevant or not? Can you organize your thoughts and ideas into relevance parts, assuming you'd have to one day share what you have learned? When contradictions can you spot? What outliers exist in some the data you have analyzed, and can you come up with some hypothetical answers?

Evaluate: This is the time to look at two differing sources to support your argument. It is also the time to build the skill of critically reading a book or an article to figure out the author's main idea and evaluate their supporting arguments. Now, this sounds very academic but you can do this even when you are reading a novel and you want to get a grasp of life in that time period. Pay attention to the events, this will give you an idea of the cultural and political climate of that time period. You further may your own judgement. For instance "I think character A in book X was married off as a 14 year old because mother's were accustomed to get the their daughter ready for marriage once the hit puberty in X country."

Create: This is the right time to use all you have learned to create something new. Perhaps a personal philosophy? An article explaining why you think ketchup is the best invention of the 19th century? By creating, you also go through the process of self evaluation. You ask yourself "did I really learn enough?" Often times we get stuck trying to find the perfect thing to say, the right topic to discuss, the right response to give your professor, or the right book to right. Often times, the right creation is anything that you found interesting. it is you ability to frame that interest of yours that sets you apart and inevitably brings you both success and critiques. Keep creating in your own way.

Enjoy!!!

[tinyshyteacup]

TW: cussing

Novel Attraction - Part 1

The air inside the Santo Padre Public Library is thick with the scent of old paper, fresh ink, and the faintest trace of lemon-scented cleaner.

Rows upon rows of tall, wooden bookshelves stretch towards the ceiling, their contents a mixture of well-worn novels, encyclopedias, and neatly organized reference materials.

The glow of the midday sun filters through large arched windows, casting long golden streaks across the carpeted floor.

It’s your first day as a Digital Archivist, a position you worked hard to secure.

All be it in this small boarder town, apparently some big wig philanthropist has funded the position to the local council.

The title alone carries a sense of importance—you’re not just shelving books or checking out library cards, you’re preserving history, digitizing rare texts, and maintaining both a hand picked and online record of Santo Padre’s past.

You’re proud of it, a chance to preserve something for future generations.

When your not in your office, most people naturally assume you’re a librarian.

Which is exactly what you let the two Reyes brothers believe.

You're behind the front desk, carefully scanning and cataloging a set of old town records for the archive, when the sound of heavy boots against the wooden floor pulls your attention.

Their entrance is a sharp juxtaposition to the quite of the library—Angel Reyes first, his stride confident and lazy at the same time, followed closely by his younger brother, Ez Reyes.

You clock them immediately they are a contrast to each other as well. Ez, with his thoughtful expression and quiet intensity, browses the bookshelves with purpose, while Angel...

Angel is looking at you.

You meet his gaze before returning to your work, sorting through a selection of old records brought in by a lovely older woman thirty minutes ago.

Angel's dark brown eyes, sharp but amused, scan you like he’s already decided you’re something interesting.

There’s something off-putting about the way he carries himself—relaxed, but predatory, like he’s already planned five different ways to mess with you.

And then, just like that, his full lips curve into a smirk.

"Damn... the library got an upgrade."

"Can I help you?" you ask, keeping your tone polite and professional.

Angel leans an elbow on the counter, his body angled towards you in a way that feels far too familiar for a first meeting.

His scent—leather, cologne, and a hint of woodiness—lingers in the space between you, dispite your stuble lean backwards.

"I don’t know, cariño. Can you?"

His voice is low and teasing, like he’s never been turned down before.

Ez, still searching through books, rolls his eyes.

"Ignore him, he doesn’t get out much."

You bite your cheek to keep from laughing.

Angel narrows his eyes at you, like he can sense you trying not to laugh at his expense.

"You new?"

You nod, returning your eyes to your cataloging once more moving the triplet loupe over the old faded print. "First day."

"So, you just woke up one day and thought, ‘Damn, I wanna work at the most boring place in Santo Padre?’" he quipped ducking his head to try to catch your eyes.

"I don’t think it’s boring!" You offer politely.

He tilts his head, watching you.

"No? Tell me, what’s the most exciting thing that’s happened here? Some abuelita lose her library card?"

You cross your arms, finally looking up "I’ll have you know, libraries are important. They preserve knowledge, history, culture—"

"You’re in Santo Padre. We don’t do ‘culture’ here, we do tequila and bad decisions."

Ez, flipping through a book, doesn’t even look up.

"You do bad decisions. I read."

"Oh, I like you" You chuckle at Ez’s comment

Angel glares at him, then turns his attention back to you.

"So what, you just sit here all day playing with books?"

You hesitate, not bothering to correct him.  "Yea we'll go with that."

Angels smirk returns.

"Cute. Guess that explains why you still look so..."

He gestures vaguely at all if you.

Ez, finally deciding on a few books, approaches the counter.

"She’s probably smarter than both of us combined, Angel. You could learn something."

"Thank you... " You trail off not knowing his name.

"Ez, Ezekiel" he returns offering his hand.

You shake it lightly, offering your own name in return as Angel scoffs and rolls his eyes.

As you check out Ez’s books, Angel continues to watch you. His gaze lingers on your hands, your mouth, the way you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his stare.

As they turn to leave, he calls over his shoulder—

"See you around, librarian."

Ez mutters something about Angel being annoying as they step outside.

And just like that, they’re gone.

The afternoon sun hangs heavy in the sky, casting waves of heat over the cracked pavement of Santo Padre.

The small town hums with a quiet sort of life—the occasional roar of a motorcycle, the distant laughter of children playing near the corner store, the faint smell of spices drifting from a row of street vendors.

You take your time exploring, letting yourself breathe it all in.

There’s something endearing about the town, despite its rough edges. It’s not a place that pretends to be perfect—it just is.

Eventually, your wandering leads you to a small shop with faded red signage and a hand-painted wooden board.

Carnicería Reyes.

A butcher shop.

You hesitate before stepping inside, the little bell above the door chiming softly.

The cool air inside is a relief, carrying with it the rich, savory scent of freshly cut meats, spices, and something vaguely smoky.

Behind the counter, an older man with weathered hands and a measured expression looks up from where he’s wrapping a cut of beef.

"Buenas tardes, señorita. First time here?"

You nod, offering him a polite smile. "Yes, I—uh, I just moved here for work. I was just exploring the town."

His dark eyes study you for a moment, quiet and knowing, before he gives a slow nod.

"Good. People should know where their food comes from."

There’s something steady about him—like a man who has seen too much, lost too much, and has learned to speak only when necessary.

It’s oddly comforting.

As you browse, he speaks again.

"So what kind of work brings you to Santo Padre?"

You glance up from where you’re inspecting a pack of chicken thighs. "I work at the library, archive work mostly."

The corner of his mouth lifts just slightly.

"That must be important work."

You nod. "It is. I love it."

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes—approval, maybe, or respect.

"Not many young people are interested in history anymore. It’s good that you are."

You smile, a little surprised by how easy the conversation feels.

"I think history matters. It reminds us of where we came from."

The man’s hands still for just a fraction of a second before he resumes wrapping a fresh order.

"Yes," he murmurs, "it does."

The bell above the door chimes again, and the moment is shattered by the sound of boots on tile.

"Pops! You got any—"

Angel Reyes stops mid-step.

You turn just in time to see his expression shift—from casual indifference to something else.

"Damn. First the library, now Pops shop? If I find you at the bar next, I’m gonna start thinking you’re stalking me."

Felipe, calm as ever, wipes his hands on a rag and nods.

"I see you've met my son, Angel."

You glance back at Angel, who’s now grinning like he just won a bet.

"Small world, huh?" He grins

You smile politely. "I guess so."

Angel leans against the counter, studying you like you’re some kind of rare curiosity.

Felipe doesn’t react, but you catch the hint of a smirk as he hands you your bag.

You thank him, pay for your order, and turn to leave.

Just before you step outside, Angel calls after you—

"See you around, querida."

You don’t look back, but you can hear the grin in his voice.

[aphroditeinthesea]

“ guilty as sin ”

jason grace x fem!reader ⚡️

if there’s no such as thing as bad thoughts, why is y/n feeling so guilty? | pt. 2

⚠️ cheating, swearing, breaking girl code, make out, sexual insinuation & while i was posting this there was random lightning and thunder so took that as a sign that this was pretty good

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The first thing Y/N noticed about Jason was his girlfriend. Okay, maybe that wasn't the first thing, but it was up there. Maybe the first thing she noticed was his hair, the way that sun shined around it, making his aura glow. Or maybe it was the way his eyes were so vibrant that she felt like she was drowning in the Blue Nile. Or, gods, his muscles. The way his shirt was barely able to conceal his abs. Then, his absolutely beautiful girlfriend, who surprise, surprise, was a daughter of Aphrodite.

Of course she knew she had to keep these feelings locked inside a vault. Especially at how she so easily befriended Piper, who if she knew about these feelings, would have Y/N’s head. But how was she supposed to? Whenever she saw him, basically doing nothing, her mind already had images of him flashing in her mind that she tried so desperately to flick away.

But once the feelings had gotten too intense, she had to tell someone. So she turned to the wisest person she knew, Annabeth Chase. She decided to walk to the Athena cabin after training. She found the blonde reading a book on her bed. She approached her, speaking up, “hey, can we talk?” she looked around, “privately?”

Annabeth nodded before leaving alongside Y/N. She led her to cabin 3, which was uninhabited since the disappearance of Percy.

“What’s wrong?” Annabeth began.

Y/N sighed before explaining the ordeal to the girl. Excluding certain fantasies about the boy that not even Zeus himself could get her to confess.

“As a girlfriend of a guy who everyone has a crush on,” she began, seeming annoyed at her own statement, “don't act on it.”

Y/N nodded, “yeah, I could never act on it, I mean, Piper’s my friend,” she paused and looked up at the daughter of Athena, “I’m not a bad person am I?”

“There’s no such thing as bad thoughts, only your actions talk.”

But after a few months. After they found out the memories were fake, that Jason was a Roman demigod, that there was no relationship to begin with, Y/N had the guilty hope that they would break up. But no. Instead they continued dating? She was furious, while also hating herself every second of every day. She had thought that maybe after all this time the feelings would go away. But they didn't! They wouldn't! They couldn't!

Every time she saw the two of them together, she wanted to vomit. Especially when they’d act all couple-like and kissing and hugging and standing within a ten foot radius.

One day at archery practice, she was about to shoot, when she saw the couple walking nearby. She immediately sunk into herself. She drew back her arrow, sulking, until she heard a loud, “ow, fuck!”

She looked up, realizing that she had accidentally shot the foot of the son of Apollo that had been helping her. She gasped, “oh my gods, I’m so sorry.”

He sat on the grass, holding onto his bleeding foot, “dont worry about it,” he hissed through the pain. A few other campers ran over to help him over to the infirmary.

She awkwardly looked around, unsure of what to do.

“What happened, Y/N?” The sound of Piper’s voice behind her caught her attention.

She paused, looking up at the blond boy before back to Piper, “I got distracted and, uhm, accidentally shot him.”

“Is he okay?” Jason questioned.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” she brushed off, “a little arrow in the foot never killed anyone.”

“Achilles would beg to differ,” he remarked with a smirk. Gods, that was going to be the death of her, The way his scar curved with his mouth. She liked to imagine he got the scar in a battle to the death against a Roman beast- or whatever, she didn't really understand what happened at that camp, other than the fact that they had really hot guys.

She must have been staring for too long as Piper looked back up at her boyfriend herself, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N panicked, “I should go see if he’s okay,” she ran off to the direction of the infirmary.

“You shot someone in the foot?!”

“Annabeth, I really don't feel like talking about this right now.”

“No, Y/N,” she stood in front of Y/N, “why?”

“Jason-”

Annabeth shook her head, “he has a girlfriend.”

“I know, that’s the problem-”

“She’s not the problem, Y/N,” the girl interrupted again, “you're being so immature, you have to get over this.”

Y/N turned around to see Piper and Jason laughing about something. She looked back at Annabeth, “I’ll try.”

That next week, she had gotten a date with a son of Hermes. It was a nice date, too. A picnic on the dock during the campfire.

“I was originally born in Minnesota, but then we moved to New Hampshire-” his voice was drowned out by her thoughts. She felt so… faithful to Jason. If it's make believe, why does it feel like a vow? She felt like he had written ‘mine’ on her upper thigh in her mind- “what about you?”

“Oh, I’ve never been to Michigan.”

He raised an eyebrow, “I asked if you liked strawberries?”

“Oh,” she looked at the strawberry she had accidentally crushed in her hand, “yeah.”

“You don't like me, do you?”

She shook her head, “no, nothing with you. You're great, this picnic is amazing, I’m just… I am so in love with one of my best friends’ boyfriend. I’m just trying to get over him.”

“Jason?”

She looked at him, her mouth agape, “how did you…?”

“A good guess.”

She hid her face in her hands, tears welling in her eyes, “am I allowed to cry?”

He pulled her into a hug, “go talk to him.”

New advice? She’ll take it!

She stood up, “I’m really sorry, I’ll make it up to you, promise!” she claimed before running off to the fire. Everyone was beginning to disperse, when the blond hair caught her eye. She rushed over to him, “I need to talk to you.”

He looked confused, but nodded, leading her into his cabin, “what’s up?”

“I have a huge fucking crush on you,” she blurted, “I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. And I thought that if I told you, it would go away. I’m sorry.”

He stayed silent for a minute, thinking. He ran his fingers through his hair. Did everything about him have to be this fucking hot?

“I have a girlfriend.”

“I know.”

He shook his head, “no, I need to remind myself of that. Y/N,” he walked closer to her, taking her hands in his, “I really like you, Y/N.”

She let out a deep breath, “Jason, that doesn't help.”

“It doesn't help me either, that’s why I’ve been trying to ignore it, but,” his right hand let go of hers, finding its way to her lips, “look at you.” He slowly leaned down to kiss her. Once, twice, thrice, four- over and over again. She wasn't even sure when she was suddenly pinned to his bed as their kisses got messier. His fingers traced the skin under her shirt, sending shivers down her spine, gasping when he would zap her.

“Jase,” she breathed, “this is really bad.”

He bit her bottom lip, “I know, we shouldn't-”

She kissed him again, “no.”

He leaned back, “Y/N, we really can’t.”

“I know, I know,” she heavily breathed, “but what are you saying?”

He stood up, forcing his glasses back on, “I need to go talk to Piper,” he grabbed her hand, helping her up, “go back to your cabin, let’s just forget about this.”

“No.”

“Y/N, please, we can talk some other time, but please, just go for now.”

She nodded, tears in her eyes, “right, okay,” she followed behind as he walked to the door, opening it for her. She looked up at him, “goodnight, Jason.”

He gently touched her arm, “goodnight.”

She walked out feeling shame and guilt fill her body. She felt it in all her limbs, making it hard for her to walk, feeling pulled down by her emotions, she wondered, without ever touching his skin, how could I be guilty as sin?

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

since it's pride month, i want to highlight my favorite underrated/underappreciated queer characters and ships! (part 1/???)

(feel free to add more!)

Lake - Infinity Train (non-canon)

it's not canon but you cannot tell me that Lake isn't an allegory for trans/nb people. her arc is so beautiful and her character resonates with me so much!

i have to admit, i actually kinda hated her in the beginning because of how aggressive and rude she was, but she actually gets good character development and you can also understand why she was the way she was, being a good representation of a minority who is constantly suffering because of the social norms she’s forced into. also i don’t ship her with jesse but i do like the idea of them in a qpr or just being platonic besties.

(i use she/her pronouns for Lake because that's what they use in the series, but also because not all non-binary people use they/them, and it's kinda weird to see people insist on using they/them for Lake just because she's nb-coded. she has never shown an aversion to bring referred to with she/her pronouns.)

Le Chevre x El Topo - Carmen Sandiego (canon)

they are side characters who don't play a huge role in the narrative but they are a really cute couple and have been confirmed to be canon! even without the confirmation, it’s clear that they were written to be a romantic couple.

mild spoiler: after the series ends, they stop being antagonists and instead put up a food truck together! it’s the cutest thing, i swear

Ryan x Min-gi - Infinity Train (non-canon)

my OTP through and through! i say non-canon but the romance is so heavily implied, you cannot ignore it.

they're a good example of childhood friends who had a complicated relationship where both individuals did something wrong, but in the end, they grow as people and manage to mend their relationship together.

Moomin x Snufkin - Moominvalley (canon)

i have only read one of the books and watched a few clips of these two characters but from that alone, it's clear that they were written as lovers (and the author is queer too!)

they are a beautiful portrayal of long-distance relationship where both individuals have different needs in life, but still want to be with each other regardless.

Terrestrius / Terry - The Dragon Prince (canon)

Terry is canonically transmasc and they actually manage to explain this in the series, without making it sound too forced or expository. he's such a sweetheart too, and his relationship with Claudia is actually really sweet, despite the fact that she's one of the villains.

Carmen x Julia - Carmen Sandiego (non-canon)

again, i say non-canon but it is heavily implied that they have feelings for each other, especially in the extra interactive episode, where Carmen leaves a bouquet of red roses for Julia, and Julia is shown to blush when receiving them.

Amaya x Janai - The Dragon Prince (canon)

what’s that? it’s actually possible to write an enemies to lovers romance that is healthy and not extremely abusive?

Amaya and Janai have such a good relationship in S5 (and Amaya is also a great disabled representation!) Janai actually learns sign language to communicate with Amaya, and there are no unnecessary miscommunication plots or drama, they’re just a really loving wlw couple.

Benson x Troy - Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts (canon)

when i say we need more mlm ships in animated media!! i’m so glad us sapphics are getting a lot of representation but it’s time cartoons started including more queer men.

benson and troy are just a really sweet couple with a good relationship that doesn’t have a ton of pining or unnecessary angst. while i love complex and tragic queer relationships, i also think that it’s good to show teenagers just being teenagers sometimes.

this opinion seems to be scarce in the queer community, which really annoys me tbh.

Raine x Eda - The Owl House (canon)

i cannot believe that given the popularity of TOH, Raeda is still such an overlooked ship. this might be an unpopular opinion but Raeda is better written and has more chemistry than Lumity and Huntlow.

just within the span of Raine's introductory episode, they managed to establish a clearly romantic past between these two characters, and also an interesting dynamic. and even though they didn't have much screentime, they still turned out to be the best ship in the series. (again, just my opinion, don't come at me)

i think it's so important to show older queer people in media, just as it is important to show younger queer characters. it helps establish the fact that queerness has always existed and isn't some newfound trend that social media invented. not to mention, raeda is one of the very few canon ships that include a non-binary character.

[brownsugaboba]

title: “Chapter 2: Back in The Day: Simpler Times.”

december 19th, 2024.

—————————————————————————————

bruce wayne x reader.

black reader. (anyone can read but emphasis on black.)

19+. (this chapter is NOT 19+, however future chapters will be.)

—————————————————————————————

the wayne manor library was quiet, except for the soft ticking of an antique clock on the wall. the stretch of leather-bound book casted long shadows across the room, but neither bruce nor yourself paid much mind to the dark night. you both, after all, had spent countless hours there as children, so the familiar surroundings felt comforting, nostalgic even.

bruce sat in his usual armchair, a glass of scotch resting on the side table beside him, while you were sat on the edge of the window seat. your posture was relaxed, though your eyes held the same quiet look they always had. you two had been talking for hours, reliving memories from a time when the world seemed simpler, before tragedy reshaped both of your lives.

"remember the time we tried to build that treehouse in the oak behind the manor?" you asked, a small smile tugging at your two tones lips as you recalled the memory.

"we thought we could build it all by ourselves, even though we barely knew the difference between a hammer and a nail."

bruce couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound rare and warm. "i think we still managed to get it up, though. it was only after a week when alfred found it that we realized we had left half of it unfinished."

"that’s because you kept insisting we needed more space for all our 'secret' things," she teased. "i think you were just trying to escape your parents."

bruce’s smile faltered for a brief moment, but it didn’t go unnoticed. you saw it and immediately reached out to place a hand on his.

the unspoken bond you had shared since childhood had always been something that transcended words, even now. you both had known loss too young, your parents taken from you in different ways but with the same devastating finality.

"i never thanked you enough for being there for me back then," bruce said quietly. "for always knowing when i needed someone."

your voice was equally as soft. "you don’t have to thank me, bruce. you were my best friend, too. we were always there for each other."

you two went into a slight silence, the weight of unspoken grief settling between you both. the passing of your parents was still something neither one of you had truly come to terms with, but it had shaped you both in ways you couldn’t fully explain.

"i miss them," bruce said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

"i miss him." the words for his father, thomas wayne, hung in the air.

"i miss her too," you said. "my dad... he was always so proud of you, bruce. he admired you, even when you were just a little kid who'd sneak into the hospital to watch him work."

bruce’s lips twisted into a faint yet gentle grin, but the sadness was still there. "he never knew when to stop talking about his work. your father… he used to give me tips on how to stay focused during surgeries, even though i wasn’t sure if I’d ever need them."

"and you did. in your own way," you replied. you squeezed his hand before letting go.

"you turned out more like him than you think."

bruce met your gaze, his eyes betraying a sense of emotion he rarely showed. he stopped himself from reaching for your hand again, wanting to hold it for comfort.

"and you turned out like your dad in the best ways. i’m sorry we both had to go through that loss together."

"i think we’re both sorry for that," she said softly.

the conversation shifted after a moment, the past lingering like a shadow, but they had moved on. the reason you were there became clearer. you were still family, and today was no exception.

"selina’s wedding," bruce said, finally having the courage to say it. "that is why you came all this way, no?"

you sighed, crossing your arms. "i’m not here for the wedding itself, bruce. i’m here because i know how much it’s going to hurt you to see her walking down that aisle."

bruce closed his eyes for a moment, the pain evident. "she deserves happiness. i knew that the moment she let me go. but it doesn’t make it any easier."

you nodded. "i know. but you’ve always been too good at hiding how much things affect you. and you can’t hide that from me when i do the same thing. it’s not healthy."

before bruce could respond, a quiet voice interrupted him from the hallway.

"do you think it’s gonna bother selina seeing bruce with someone else?" damian’s voice was low but sharp, his curiosity peeking around the corner of the library door.

he was followed by his brother, dick, who smirked. "i mean, we all know she’s been a little—" he hesitated, glancing at damian. "possessive?"

damian gave him a pointed look.

"i was going to say 'protective,' but sure, go ahead." tim remarks.

bruce’s eyes narrowed at the sound of his children’s voices. his instincts were immediate, but his gaze softened when he caught your amused expression.

just as he was about to call them out, cassandra stepped into the hallway. she had only overheard the conversation but hadn’t understood the full context, since she wasn’t there for the building of the plan.

she crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow.

"selina's getting married," she said bluntly, looking between the brothers. "and you’re all acting like idiots. it’s not like she hasn’t moved on. she’s been with someone else for a while now."

damian and jason blinked in unison, looking a little stunned with how long selina has been with her partner, considering she had ever so recently left their dad. "wait, what?" jason asked, his confusion growing. "she—"

"she moved on, guys," cassandra said, shaking her head.

"she’s already marrying someone else. you know how she is. if she sees bruce with someone else, she’s probably gonna think it's funny more than anything."

dick spoke. "you dont know that."

tim frowned. "you really think so?"

"yeah, because she knows what she wants. and she’s not holding onto stuff she can’t control," cassandra replied coolly.

"i want the best for bruce too, but you can’t just sit here and overthink it."

jason scowled. "that’s because bruce is—"

"just go talk to him yourselves," cassandra cuts in, dismissing them. "stop standing around like it’s a tragedy and act like adults."

her bluntness caused the brothers to retreat, but their expressions remained conflicted. as they all walked away, you and bruce shared a quiet, knowing glance.

bruce sighed. "i never thought i’d have to explain myself to them this way."

you smirked, your tone light and sweet as your dimples showed. "you’ve been a little distracted lately. it’s okay."

"maybe," bruce said, staring at your dimples and remembering the first time he had ever seen them.

"but things don’t seem simple anymore."

"maybe they never were," you replied.

“or maybe simple is too simple for us.”

fin.

—————————————————————————————

next chapter…

[devildomwriter]

Strike The Harp and Join the Chorus | Luke, Raphael, & Simeon x Reader

.9K Words | Raphael, Simeon, Luke, and Solomon | GN! Reader | CW: none

Summary — You decide to help Luke when he struggles to learn the harp. Raphael and Simeon are happy to have you join them. Solomon is amused as always.

As you read on the couch the most melodies tune you’d ever heard rung through the house. You immediately set the book aside and got to your feet. You waited for the sound again and immediately followed it like a lure.

You stopped outside of Luke’s door where you heard him groan loudly. Simeon said something to him but you couldn’t make out the words, they didn’t sound like they were in a human language.

You knocked on the door and the room went quiet. You took a few steps back and Raphael poked his head out of the door.

“Oh, hello ___. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were over…” he apologized and Simeon and Luke walked up behind him greeting you warmly.

“I was just borrowing a book from Solomon to read…what was that sound?” You couldn’t help but immediately change the subject.

“Oh, that!” Simeon said excitedly.

“No! I’m not ready!” Luke exclaimed but he was ignored and Raphael opened the door more widely for you to come in.

You were surprised to see three harps of varying sizes in his room. Luke pulled his hat over his face to hide his embarrassment.

“A harp? Angels really play harps?” You asked, surprised and Raphael nodded.

“Mostly in celebration. This is Luke’s first year performing for our Christmas Eve ceremony but…”

“I was busy baking!” Luke protested.

“No excuses now,” Simeon chided. “This is very important. All that matters is we have time now.”

“I forgot it was this year…” Luke pouted as he held the harp.

You tilted your head curiously and came up with an idea that’d please you and probably help Luke.

“What if I played with you?” You offered and the three angels looked at you stunned.

“You want to perform the harp in two weeks in front of all of Heaven for our Father?”

“Oh no-no-no-no!” You protested. “I meant…like right now? What if we learned together?” You explained more clearly. You could not believe you nearly signed yourself up for potential embarrassment in front of the creator or everything and every single one of his “children.”

Raphael and Simeon nodded. This seemed more in line for you and Luke beamed excitedly. “Really!? You’ll do it too?” He asked and Simeon nodded and stepped away from his harp for you to take a seat.

Raphael shut the door behind you. You were now trapped in this situation as you couldn’t just back out after seeing how happy Luke was to have you there struggling right alongside him.

Raphael demonstrated on his harp where to hold your hands when at rest and explained the different cords. Luke watched attentively and you nodded along hoping you were processing the information.

“This is a pedal harp,” Raphael began to explain and Simeon from behind you adjusted your hands.

“Make sure to relax your hands, you could hurt yourself otherwise,” he advised and you nodded. Simeon gently leaned the harp against your shoulder, helping hold it a bit to keep the weight off of you as this thing was giant.

Raphael watched and waited for you to get comfortable before pointing out the different colors of the strings. The color variation wasn’t very obvious to you as these harps were designed for the eyes of an angel so you had to squint closely and just hope you were doing it right.

“The notes repeat like a piano, these are A, these are B, these are C, ___ that’s D…” Raphael noticed your hand was on the wrong one so Simeon quickly adjusted it for you as you blushed.

“Don’t give up yet ___,” Luke encouraged. You appreciated the encouragement but wondered if you seemed like the type to insanely give up like that. Have you done that before? You thought back to Raphael’s singing lessons and agreed this had happened at least once. There was just no way you’d ever get your voice to sound as heavenly as his.

“Good, now try to guess where D, E, F, and G are,” he recommended as you thought they followed alphabetically as had the first ones.

Solomon got home after an hour and followed the same pleasant sound to Luke’s room as you had.

He stood outside the door and listened in.

“___ that’s the B cord, try again,” he heard Raphael and was surprised to learn you were here. Without knowing what was going on, now that he knew you were involved he invited hustled into Luke’s room.

“My, what do we have—“

“Not now! I almost got it!” You immediately interrupted Solomon who backed away in surprise. Luke, Simeon, and Taohale all shushed him and leaned in focusing on you as after a solid hour you successfully played your first few notes.

Luke got up and cheered for you. He felt much more confident after listening to you and now that he saw even you could do a little bit he was much more assured of himself.

Solomon was still very confused about what was happening but after twenty minutes of watching and listening he was satisfied and so were you.

You left for the night and waved goodbye to everyone promising to be back for more lessons the next evening. Raphael grinned, proud you were sticking to your promise.

When you got home to the house of lamentation you excitedly announced to the brothers sitting around the table what you were up to.

“Guys guess what! I can play the harp!”