#stuck with and all i have for hope is the belief that maybe one day americans realise they do have more say than they think they do

[mithliya]

prev anon and i'm going to say again: they can campaign and/or register green to get green on the ballot in their state. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Third_party_and_independent_candidates_for_the_2024_United_States_presidential_election

if you feel like it's useless then work for a different option.

im interested if someone knows more about this process bc i actually didnt even know that they wouldnt show the 3rd party options in all states & its really nice to know that there is sth people can do about it but im curious what exact actions they should take in that case. but i do agree that ultimately if ppl want change then theyll need to work for it somehow, ppl should stop accepting this awful sophie's choice situation and do sth about it instead of reinforcing it with the voter shaming

[sirenemale]

Maybe I'm just desensitized from dealing with like cptsd probably ocd neurotic soup unchecked for my whole life and finding ways to just phase out the chatter of it but seeing ppl here talk abt moral ocd and stuff in a way where they refuse to be reminded of racism or anything is baffling to me. Like I don't get how that's helpful for you, instead of separating thoughts and morals from yourself and your actions you're just going oh no my religious ocd is triggered when ppl talk about me having privilege or benefitting from systemic oppression so therefore I'm never going to interact with marginalized people who talk about it ect ect ect. Or proship ppl being like it's too hard to take a stance against incest and age gap ships so they're just no holds bars for it now. Like again maybe I'm being mean, being online is hard I do think the way ppl talk is especially triggering for ocd and the whole born good born bad self flaggelation for forgiveness stuff never be wrong takes especially eat at me but they are symptoms ultimately and letting it box you out from ways you can actually genuienly improve as a person feels wildly unhelpful to me. Sitting with guilt and understanding what is real harm thats been done by you and actual bad things you believed and what is the brain chatter is crucial.

[luv-lock]

⸻ ʙ ᴇ ʟ ᴏ ᴠ ᴇ ᴅ⸻

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Fem Reader Part 2

Headcanon: What if Damien's obsession continue even after you broke up with Dick? What if his obsession grow as he grow up?

Note: Reader is the same age as Dick. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

You never thought your life would look like this. Working in a small flower shop wasn’t what you dreamed of as a bright-eyed twenty-something in Gotham, but it was peaceful. You’d long since left the chaos of capes and vigilantes behind, including a certain acrobat who never could hold onto a girlfriend.

Now, at 33, you felt invisible. Your reflection in the mirror wasn’t what it used to be, and time had stolen some of the confidence you once had. You didn’t mind, though. You had your flowers, your little corner of the world, and the belief that love belonged to someone else’s story.

But then, there was him.

The first time he walked into the shop, you barely noticed him. Just another handsome guy buying flowers for some lucky person. It wasn’t unusual—flower shops brought in romantics, after all.

But then he came back.

And again.

And again.

Each time, he would only take flowers from you. If you weren’t behind the counter, he’d wait patiently, pretending to browse until you returned. If you were busy, he’d stand to the side, quiet and stoic, as though he had all the time in the world.

It became routine. He’d show up every Wednesday like clockwork, always choosing something simple—a bouquet of daisies, a handful of roses. He rarely spoke more than a few words. "I’ll take those." "How much for this?" "Thank you." His voice was low, smooth, almost hypnotic.

You didn’t think much of it. Maybe he was just particular. Maybe he liked the way you arranged the flowers. You didn’t dare entertain the idea that he might like you.

One day, as you were arranging tulips, your coworker Hannah nudged you with a mischievous grin.

“Have you noticed how Flower Guy only comes in when you’re here?”

You blinked. “What?”

“You know, the tall, handsome guy with black hair and green eyes? He’s got the whole brooding vibe going on. Like a tortured poet who secretly reads love sonnets at night.”

You laughed. “Hannah, please. He’s just a regular customer.”

“Oh, sure. Because regular customers stare at you like you hung the moon and only buy flowers from your hands. Totally normal.”

You rolled your eyes. “He doesn’t stare.”

“He does, though. It’s kinda romantic. Maybe he’s secretly in love with you.”

You snorted. “There’s no way. He’s probably got a girlfriend or a wife. Guys like him don’t…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “Anyway, I’m too old for him.”

Hannah scoffed. “You’re 33, not 83. And you’re gorgeous. I bet he’s into you.”

You brushed it off, but Hannah’s words stuck with you.

One Wednesday, he came in as usual, dressed in a worn leather jacket and dark jeans. His hair was slightly tousled, and he looked… well, annoyingly perfect, as always.

But this time, something was different. He didn’t just take his flowers and leave.

As you handed him a bouquet of sunflowers, he paused, his green eyes locking onto yours.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

You frowned, tilting your head. “Should I?”

He hesitated, a flicker of something unreadable passing over his face. “No. I suppose not.”

There was a long silence, and then he said, “Would you have dinner with me?”

Your brain short-circuited. “Excuse me?”

“Dinner. With me. I’d like to take you out.”

You blinked, genuinely stunned. “I… don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“I mean, you’re—” You gestured vaguely at him. “You. And I’m—” You gestured vaguely at yourself. “Me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t follow.”

“You’re young. And handsome. And probably have women falling all over you. Why would you want to go out with someone like me?”

His jaw tightened. “You don’t see yourself clearly, do you?”

You laughed nervously. “Look, I appreciate the offer, but I’m not looking for anything. Thank you, though.”

He didn’t argue. He just nodded, took his flowers, and left.

He didn’t stop coming. If anything, he doubled down.

One week, he showed up looking disheveled, his jacket frayed, his shoes scuffed. When he handed you the money for his bouquet, you noticed it was crumpled, like it had been fished out of a couch cushion.

“Are you okay?” you asked, genuinely concerned.

He sighed heavily. “It’s been… a rough few months.”

“Oh?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, his expression pained. “Kicked out of work. Rent’s overdue. Been crashing on a friend’s couch.”

Your heart ached for him. “That sounds awful. I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged. “It’s life.”

You couldn’t help but feel bad for him. Maybe that’s why, when he asked again if you’d have dinner with him, you hesitated before saying no.

But Damien was nothing if not persistent.

Eventually, you gave in. Mostly because he wouldn’t leave you alone.

“Fine,” you said one day, throwing your hands up. “One date. Just to get you to stop asking.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

That night, he showed up dressed sharply but not overly flashy, carrying a single rose. He held it out to you with a small smirk. “For you.”

The date was… perfect. Annoyingly perfect. He was charming, attentive, and surprisingly funny. He made you laugh more than you had in years, and by the end of the night, you found yourself wondering why you’d ever said no in the first place.

He never told you who he really was. Not that night, not the next, and not for months. But eventually, you pieced it together.

It happened when you were flipping through an old photo album, reminiscing about your time in Gotham. And there he was. A scowling 13-year-old boy glaring at the camera.

“Oh my God,” you muttered. “It’s him.”

When you confronted him about it, he didn’t even try to deny it. He just smirked, leaned back in his chair, and said, “Took you long enough.”

You stared at him in disbelief. “You knew me this whole time?”

“Of course.”

“And you didn’t think to mention it?”

He shrugged. “You didn’t remember me. I wanted a clean slate.”

You wanted to be mad, but the truth was… you didn’t regret giving him a chance.

By the time he kissed you for the first time, you realized that maybe, just maybe, love was still a part of your story after all.

Part 1. Part 3.

𝒍𝒖𝒗-𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌 ☆ 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[gyaruhana]

semi smut ? where her and reader are in a toxic relationship

Semi - Toxic smutty headcannons

Synopsis: just semi being toxic..

A/N: turned this into headcannons bc I didn't know what plot to right (though there's a little paragraph at the end). I hope that's okay! Anyway- second squid game fic of the day !! I cheered

Warnings: mean semi, manipulative, mentions of vibrators, light slapping, edging,

➠ Let’s be real.. Semi is manipulative. When she first laid her eyes on you, she thought you looked too innocent. It’s one of the reasons she even got with you in the first place. 

➠ You were cute and naive and she believed you’d be unable to leave her ever no matter what she did to you. 

➠ So, yeah, she's mean. And maybe she likes making you cry a little too much. It’s not her fault. It’s yours for looking at her with big doe eyes with tears spilling from the corners and slowly dripping down your face. 

➠But she won’t hit you or anything of the sort (unless it’s during sex and she’s punishing you..)

➠ She never admits that she’s wrong. She’s just always right. Every argument always ends with her saying it’s your fault before she decides that you need to be punished for your attitude. 

➠ Her punishments are mostly just edging. She loves to keep you stuck between that feeling of almost getting to cum before stopping all together so you can let out a cry and beg her to give you what you want.

➠ She does like a little bit of hitting though. Nothing too rough - just some light slaps across the face or on your ass. Hard enough to sting but not to leave bruises. 

➠ When she’s not punishing you, it still sort of feels like a punishment. 

➠ Sex with her is usually just her trying to please herself. She’ll let you cum as many times as you do but, if she has enough then she’ll leave you high and dry.

➠ Honestly likes giving you vibrators to wear and then turning them on in public settings like a restaurant. She enjoys watching you squirm and beg for her to turn it off. 

➠ She keeps it at a setting that she knows will make it impossible for you to cum but sometimes she likes to randomly max it out or, when you’re close, she’ll stop it just to hear you cry out. 

➠ Overall, she’s really just a manipulative girlfriend who thinks you’re completely innocent and likes to abuse that belief.

“Don’t you have any respect for me? Do you think I’d lie to you?” Semi spoke as she thrusted two of her fingers into your hole - her thumb rubbing your clit teasingly to keep you away from the edge of a climax but close enough that you’d be in a tortuous state of impatience. You’d be stupid to think she’ll let you cum after you spoke up to her. Even when tears filled your eyes, all she did was mock you.  “Don’t cry. This is your fault. If you had just been good, you’d be squirting by now,”

[saturngas]

lover boy

[🪐] satoru didn't believe in love at first sight, but it changed when he met you.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: teen!gojo; pining!gojo x pining!reader; two teens in love; this is sooo cheesy; a tiny bit of angst; confort; canon au; I hope I wrote teen gojo well this is lame

word count: 3.3k

...

satoru gojo did not believe in love at first sight. love requires time and devotion, and just seeing someone can't determine your definite feelings for them. he claimed people often mistook love for admiration, physical attraction, or even arousal. his beliefs were firm and inflexible.

so when the first year students got introduced to the new second year class, he felt a bit... provoked.

the moment director yaga announced the new class was coming on thursday, satoru persuaded his two classmates, suguru and shoko, to welcome them warmly. satoru was kind at heart, but sometimes his loud and egocentric personality caught in the way.

he and suguru had prepared a few decorations around the classroom, while shoko got the party hats.

"suguru can you write a big 'welcome' on the board?" satoru asked as he stuck balloons onto the wall.

"what? do it yourself."

"no! you know I can't do it. nobody understands my handwriting."

"well satoru, you need to work on that. it is pretty awful."

"h-hey!"

before satoru could launch at suguru, the door swiped open, director yaga coming right after.

"w-what? who let you do this delinquency on the classroom?" the older man questioned annoyed. he never approved of some party for the new class, he just expected the second years to introduce themselves.

"it was satoru's idea," the black haired guy said quickly.

"what!" a gasp left his lips as his blue eyes shouted betrayal behind his round glasses. "and yet you are here helping me," he squinted his eyes accusingly at suguru.

"it doesn't matter. they will be here in less than thirty minutes," yaga sighed. "and where is shoko?"

just as he finished his sentence, the brown hair girl entered the classroom, a nonchalant facade adorning her. she was holding the three party hats along with snacks and beverages, a single maybe illegal one snuck between them.

kento nanami and yu haibara complemented each other so well. you had known them for just four days, but you were already growing a bit of affection towards your new classmates. nanami was a quiet and private guy while haibara leaned more into the extrovert side, but not being annoying at all.

when the three of you were called into the classroom where you would meet your seniors, a bit of nervous sweat adorned your forehead as you stood behind the shut door. you have heard some tremendous things about the second year students. there was a guy who literally swallowed curses and used them as pokemon, a girl who was incredibly good at reversed cursed technique, and the beholder of the legendary six eyes and limitless. you didn't know who was who though.

"are you guys excited? oh my! I can't wait to be a great sorcerer!" haibara said excitedly and it actually made you less nervous, there was someone in the school who seemed sensitive.

"yeah. it's going to be a long way," you said just so say something, as you couldn't think of an answer to his enthusiasm, when the door slid open to reveal the classroom inside.

a loud plopping sound startled the three of you, confetti cannon firing hundreds of small colored papers in your direction.

"welcome!" a white haired boy with some ridiculous round glasses shouted as he held the confetti cannon. his yawp followed by a couple of seconds of silence as you recovered from the disorientation the loud cannon caused.

"hah, thank you. that was funny." you said with a soft smile. you had to demonstrate gratitude to your seniors, right? even if it's something as random as this. maybe you were overthinking your interactions with your seniors, but you wanted to make a good first impression.

"thank you! im so glad to be here!" haibara said innocently with a big grin. nanami just looked around the room to try and cover his crippling embarrassment.

satoru gojo didn't believe in love at first sight. but when you told him he was funny? maybe the burning sensation of his cheeks claimed otherwise.

okay, you didn't say he was funny, but the confetti cannon was his idea, so you think he is funny, right?

the rest of the welcoming was spent with required introductions from both the new class and the second years. satoru was certainly curious about the three of you, he wanted to know if this generation was strong. sorcerers needed to be strong, he believed. however he couldn't help but stare you.

you were indeed a sight for sore eyes. your hair danced gracefully around your neck, your skin seemed so smooth, your posture screamed confidence, and you eyes were ones to get lost in.

but that was only admiration, right? satoru had seen dozens of pretty girls before. but the big smile crippling up his face couldn't hide itself when you introduced yourself.

your seniors were very... particular, especially the white haired boy with a creepy smile looking directly at you. his eyes were covered by his shades, but you could swear he hadn't blinked in at least the forty seconds that took you to present yourself.

"im glad there is another girl in this school," shoko shared with a relived tone, her brown eyes analyzing the three of you. "it gets a bit... difficult sometimes with so much testosterone here," she said casually while looking at his two male partners.

suguru shot her a displeased glare while satoru... kept staring at you with the biggest grin. suguru could see his blue eyes from the side being as wide as plates. he wanted to slap him from being such a creep.

satoru didn't believe in love at first sight. he was certain what he felt when he saw you using your cursed technique was pure amazement. he valued strength even over people's morals.

the raw power coming from your cursed energy made him feel almost as euphoric as when he discovered his cursed technique reversal, red.

the way your hand-in-hand combat skills made his opinion on you even more complex. was he a creep for peeping your sparring sessions with haibara and nanami?

satoru swore he just admired your hardworking skills, and maybe your cursed energy was somehow attractive to him, and maybe maybe he liked watching you because he thought you were pretty.

but why hadn't he approached you yet? his natural flirtatious charisma would have acted right the moment he said welcome to you. even as far as showing you his bright blue eyes while striking poses in front of you, showing you every single well-carved angle of his body.

yet he had been respectful to your persona. when he was told there would be another girl in jujutsu high, he thought nothing of it, guessing it would be "another shoko," just another female friend of his.

however, you had unconsciously awed satoru: with your beauty, your strength, and you even thought he was funny!

uh oh, maybe you were different. maybe he liked liked you.

"did you know that in quantum mechanics, particles such as electrons can behave both as particles and waves?" satoru said with an easy going smirk as he approached you during your lunch break.

"oh, hi gojo," you smiled naturally, making the dimples on satoru's cheeks deepen. "yeah I have read something about that in quantum physics books. something about the Schrödinger equation, right?"

oh man. satoru knew he was lost. his lanky body launched itself to your side on the bench. you were outside in the training grounds. you took a bite of your rice ball.

"oh wow," he chuckled a bit nervous. "didn't know you were a physics girl."

"not exactly," you responded muffled as you swallowed the food in your mouth. "but I figured I needed to know the basics to understand my cursed techniques."

you were just made for him. satoru esteemed your physical strength and your smart head. were you also a geek like him?

"your cursed technique involves a lot of physics, right gojo?" your words brought him back to reality. "I would appreciate if some time you show me how it works. I guess im a bit nerdy, haha." you laughed a bit embarrassed. was it okay to be this straightforward with your senior? yeah right? they were there to help their juniors after all.

"of course!" he responded loudly with a big grin. it caught you off-guard you almost tossed him your chopsticks.

you would have thought satoru would show you his technique in the training grounds, or even out in a mission. not in a bakery shop.

before one of you classes started, there was a blue sticky note on your table.

"meet me at the bakery shop in front of the park tomorrow at 3pm to show you my technique, -S.G." there was a little drawing of a cat with round glasses at the right lower corner.

satoru had bribed the naive haibara to tell him where you would usually sit and if you had any missions the next day. the junior was so happy his senior was directing a word to him, if only he knew satoru talked to him to get closer to you. poor guy.

what the white haired guy didn't tell you—didn't want you to know—was that he planned it as a date. was it considered a date when only one of them was aware of it?

satoru didn't care.

he stood straighter the moment his blue gaze fell on your figure entering the bakery shop. oh how good you looked in the jujutsu uniform. the skirt fitted you so well.

"hey!" he shouted your name while raising his entire arm to get your attention. it even gathered the attention of the others clients. you chuckled slightly at him, finding it cute that he was so careless about what others think of him.

"hello gojo," your soft voice was like honeyed melody to his hungry ears. he liked hearing his name coming from your throat.

"suit yourself with something sweet," satoru passed you the small menu looking directly at you eyes as you sat in front of him. you hadn't seen his blue eyes yet, but you could feel his deep stare.

"thank you," you murmured. "umm... gojo? I thought you were gonna show me you technique."

"do you really wanna talk about it? I mean we see sorcery-related stuff all the time, we should take a break," he suggested with a smirk. "why dont you tell me more about yourself? I wanna know more things about you."

and that's what you two did for the next couple of hours. satoru found solace talking to you, an easy person to talk to. it wasn't just the addictive sound of your voice, your answers to his questions and the funny remarks you would sometimes add made him all giddy.

he enjoyed listening to you speak, but he felt a tug at his chest and a burning sensation on his pale face when you asked him about him. you wanted to know about his innate technique and his cursed energy, of course, but satoru gojo was more than just him being a sorcerer. and you could see that. perhaps it was part of your nature to see beyond people´s facade, dip into their true feelings and just observe them.

you noticed the way his eyes cracked open when you asked him about his music taste, his long white eyelashes picking up from his round glasses.

satoru was very complex. he was funny, however his jokes were sometimes a bit off. his humor could be a bit... ahead of his time. he tried putting up an unbreakable, solid self-centered demeanor, but he was kind and sweet at heart, in his own and weird way. it was true that he wanted to have a regular date with you, to get to know you—which he was accomplishing—but it was just as true that he wanted to get his mind off of jujutsu. for a moment at least. he didn't need constant reminder he was supposed to be the savior of the world.

the "date" went smoothly. each got to know more about the other. satoru was convinced he will make you his, while you started seeing beyond the strongest, meeting the compounded and sweet person he was.

it was girl's night. one of the girls dorm was full of the only females in jujutsu high—you, shoko, and utahime.

utahime was like your super senior, she was already a graduate and sorcerer. she was nice and honest. you could notice shoko had a deeper bond with her than with her two male friends.

"shokoo," utahime sang to her junior, squinting her eyes. "ive noticed the way that guy haibara looks at you~."

"haha, nonsense," the short haired girl chuckled unconcerned. "im pretty sure he just looks up at me. he is the same with the two idiots."

"yeah, he admires you all," you said after taking a sip of your nonalcoholic beverage. "haibara just wants to be a great sorcerer to help people so he wants to learn from all of you." you yawned. it was almost midnight and even though you were still young and healthy, getting up at 6am was challenging after a sleepless night.

"well he certainly won't learn anything if he follows in the footsteps of gojo," utahime shrugged while rolling her eyes. she needed to get it off her chest after the constant disrespect the junior gave her.

shoko laughed as you did as well, just a bit nervously. "why you say that, utahime-senpai?" your sleepiness vanished completely.

"well!" she has prepared her whole life for this moment. "he is careless and bluntly disrespectful! to everyone—especially to his seniors!" utahime said with an elevated fist in front of her face, she was getting a bit agitated from the alcohol running through her system. "I dont care he is the strongest, gojo doesn't even care for the people around him. he just cares for himself and getting stronger alongside geto."

the girl with ponytails was speaking with her heart. though her words made you question satoru's morals. he was sweet with you the other day, and he always greeted you during mornings. it was clear he wasn't the most down-to-earth person, but you wouldn't agree he didn't care for others.

that night you went to bed a bit anxious, tossing around the blankets thinking about the white haired boy.

"y/n~ why do you keep training with those two?" satoru whined loudly as he ploped himself down next to you. too next to you. you chuckled softly at his dramatics.

the two were sitting under a tree, its autumn-orange leafs falling at the rhythm of the slightly chilly air. it was mid october and the climate was full of cinnamon and earthy odors with vibrant shades of yellow and orange.

utahime's opinion on satoru didn't discourage you from meeting the sunshine boy, but it was definitely interesting to know how his classmates viewed him. you decided to form your own verdict on satoru by yourself.

and you couldn't deny the feeling of an accelerated heartbeat whenever the tall boy would rush to you to start a conversation. you had stopped laughing politely and started giggling like an enamored girl whenever he would say something remotely funny.

it was undeniable satoru was both handsome and pretty. his boyish features, his striking baby blue eyes that mirrored the skies, his ruffled snow white hair, his very tall and lean figure was too much to take in. the more you would meet him, the more you would grow fond of him. he was a sight for sore eyes. and all the while, his personality was eventually getting into you.

"what do you mean, gojo?" you giggled when his clothed thigh brushed yours. "they are my fellow classmates and they are my friends."

"well, im just saying if you train with me, you'll get stronger faster," he suggested while leaning back with his hands behind his head. he wanted to appear cool and smooth.

"oh, please, every time you say we'll train, we end up in a different bistro!" you exclaimed with a hearty smile while looking at him. his cool facade disintegrated once he caught a glimpse of your eyes.

"th-then, thanks to me you know all the great small restaurants around here!" satoru said flustered. you chuckled while leaning back as well, and just slightly, almost nothing, satoru felt the ghosty touch of your shoulder on his side.

"haha, whatever you say, satoru," the taller man looked at you impressed, a rosy shade decorating your cheeks. the moment suddenly imbued to his consciousness. he was glad you two were over the last name barrier.

his dimples deepened as he tilted his body toward you.

satoru didn't believe in love at first sight. he tried convincing his own self that it took him time to be this smitten by you, that it wasn't love at first sight.

when he told suguru about you, the dark haired boy looked at him with a stoic stare with a raised brow. only a brainless person wouldn't have noticed, he had said, with the way satoru was being all over you recently, harassing your personal space when clinging to you and being annoyingly whiny whenever you had to be anywhere else away from him.

suguru did confirm, though, that you didn't mind any of satoru's loud antics, and once he told satoru his thoughts, the squeal the white haired boy left was to bully him forever. suguru decided to let him drown in his own delusions and he'd tease him later.

after the incident with the star plasma vessel, you noticed a subtle change in satoru.

you weren't in jujutsu high when they returned, however you knew there was something off the moment satoru stopped spamming you with text messages.

your flip phone buzzed the whole three days the mission lasted, with messages full of emoticons.

the star plasma vessel is just a loud youngster with no friends! ( ˘︹˘ ) ohh it reminds me of someone~ hahah y/n stappp (╥︣﹏᷅╥) (ง︡'-'︠)ง

we're at the beach! (✿◠‿◠) :D saw a little sea snail n it reminded me of you~ <33 ah satoru have a fun time!! why did it reminded you of me? *u* bc of that back hump bby you gotta work on that (´_ゝ`) enough

however, during the last day his message rate decreased, to the point that by afternoon, you hadn't received a single text from him for hours. you would have thought he was involved in an intense battle, though he would still text you while doing that.

so it was a bit bittersweet to get a solid text almost at night.

suguru and I made it back to the school, hope you're doing ok on your mission:)

you never questioned him what had happened during those three days, but you were certain it had changed him. it was evident when the day you announced you were back at the school, satoru sprinted to check on you. his hands roaming through your face and arms, looking for any cuts or wounds, while murmuring "are you okay" repeatedly under his breath.

you also noticed this new ambition of his of becoming stronger, asking you to randomly throw objects at him to test his limitless, which he now kept it automatically, isolating himself from the rest of the world.

still, you could see through him. you wouldn't insist on him telling you about what happened, but you weren't going to allow him to sulk and seclude himself from you, being by his side and opening your heart to him.

it had took him a week and a half after the star plasma vessel mission for him to go back to his silly self. such assignment left a bitter scar on his heart and soul, one that wasn't your job to heal, but satoru treasured you for it. he needed frequent assurance you were there with him and that you cared for him.

he also realized he was wasting time playing games with you. he was ready to be yours just as you were ready to be his.

and even though satoru gojo didn't believe in love at first sight, he did believe in deep, devoted love. he didn't know he would be as lucky to endure it, but with you, he was prepared to give you his all. even if he keeps lying to himself he didn't fall for you when you laughed at his confetti cannon.

taglist: @snwvie @fanficsforkicks <3 guys I really wanna make a pt 2 of this I think I can do much better

[aplaceforhumancorpses]

·:¨༺ ♱ HS! AU BATBOY HCS♱ ༻¨:·

𝜗𝜚 Genre: Fluff-ish 𝜗𝜚 Warnings: Obsessive Tim Drake brainrot 𝜗𝜚 Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake 𝜗𝜚 PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REQUESTS || Highschool au, the boys are 16-17 here or u can pretend its college idk Gender Neutral reader °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

DICK GRAYSON

Dick Grayson is a frat boy in training. He's showy in your attendance, loud and boisterous with his antics. Look at him! spare a little glance his way, and watch him chug two water bottles back to back… That's impressive, right? He craves you soon enough, he wants that dumb high school sweetheart love story, that 'what if' romance, one where they get married in secret because their parents don't approve of their relationship. With Bruce being inadvertent towards his emotional needs he seems to fantasize about being in your arms for a night.

His courting starts after he watches you at lunch. Picking out a snack from the vending machine. He jots this down mentally and stores the information for the next day. He thinks he's sly, sliding your favorite calorie intake across your desk. "One of these bars was stuck between the shelves and the glass, so I figured it was a sign to do a good deed today. I ended up knocking it down with the other one. Anyway, it's all yours." He says brightly as you smile and reach forward for the bar. It's a little crushed and… oddly sweaty.

Dick won't tell you that he paced around outside of the classroom in passing time, clutching the second chocolate bar he had purchased, and not luckily acquired from the vending machine. His friends may call him "Big Dick" but he is nervous as hell. So when you finally look up and thank him with another smile, he almost collapses with relief and takes off in a light jog to his seat. He's so focused on trying to breathe normally that he can't see the smirk you're wearing. You take a bite and hum approvingly before returning to the book open on your lap.

JASON TODD

Jason is like a stray cat. You don't know how to react initially because he's so abrasive. Contrary to popular belief, he is very kind. Alright, you can borrow his jacket to make your way across campus to your next class, but that's only because it's pouring rain. And he doesn't mind helping you with your books (or even giving you a ride home once.) So he… stays close by. He likes hanging out with you, but he wants you to want him to stay. The fact that you seem to appreciate both sides of Jason makes him hopeful. At least a little bit. If he didn't know better he'd say there's something more going on here than just a budding friendship. Or maybe you just find his company amusing? Regardless he's patient though, and he'll wait until you've made your move to make his.

He's content with life if you're around. You're easy on his eyes, soft and gentle with him when you need to be, and so extremely lucky that he let you in. It started with him avoiding you at all costs, he had probably shoulder-checked you once or twice in the hallways without saying a word. Just that stare with the thinly veiled hostility of a moody teenage boy, and now it has progressed to him following you to classes, his worry for you has him waiting outside your building to make sure you’re safe, watching you walk to your car.. It would have been so much easier if he'd tried a little harder to hate you, to loathe your presence in his existence, but he hasn't done either, he lets himself admire how stunning you are and wishes he could be more like you.

He wishes you two would've met as kids when things weren't so complicated. He was soft back then, and he wasn't nearly as cynical and hard as he is now. Maybe then he wouldn't have become the guy that he is today.

Despite everything maybe you could have fixed him.

TIM DRAKE

Tim may be a bit obsessive. He writes your initial and his own in pen, surrounded by crooked little hearts. He spends most of his classes looking at you, thinking about looking at you, making up scenarios he knows will never come true. He saw you spray some type of perfume or cologne on yourself after gym once. He spared no time looking for it, online, in stores, everywhere. By the end of the month he had it. It was a nice scent. It suited you. Yes, its creepy and weird, but he swears its innocent in nature.

His pillow is soaked with the sent.

He knows he's got it bad. But, how can he just… talk to you? He has a perfectly healthy parasocial relationship!

It's drizzling early in the morning. Since Tim shares his first period with you he catches a glance of you, hair lightly dampened, a few waves falling against your cheek. You catch his attention instantly and awkwardly wave at him. It startles him, and he quickly turns away, burying his face into his textbook. He pretends to read the chapter aloud to himself to avoid any further eye contact. Tim looks up at you through his lashes again. He silently tears a piece of paper from his notebook, scribbling something down. He then pretends to get up to blow his nose, silently slipping the paper on the corner of your desk. He walks past you without a word, and sits down with an audible sigh. Your name appears on the paper, accompanied by some sort of lopsided smiley face.

'You're pretty'

[quietzap]

how do you navigate your feelings towards ziam and cheryl/bear/kate/maya on top of this immense grief? i don't mean to be insensitive but i haven't found an answer for myself yet, i can't believe we'll never get answers now

(To anyone seeing this, read until the end before saying anything thank you.) Well. I'm gonna ramble a bit but bear with me. Spotify played Let Me and Common on shuffle the other day and I cried a bit. It's unfair. It should've never ended this way. But I had already accepted ages ago that we might never know the truth. I still have my beliefs. That Zayn and Liam were together. Maybe they had broken up who knows but if they did then I still truly believe their bond was a once-in-a-lifetime thing. I've gone through so many emotions this past week. But seeing the posts of cheryl etcetc or people mentioning bear (Zayn was the only one who didn't fwiw), it didn't make me feel anything. Maybe bc I had already accepted we couldn't do anything about the stunts, and/or maybe bc it's still difficult for me to accept he's really gone or bc it doesn't matter to me at this moment. Or bc I haven't actually sat down to think about what it means that he's gone. I've just been thinking of the pain all of Liam's loved ones are in right now and will be in for the foreseeable future. And I include Zayn in this. I also don't really want to think about it bc I think I might get angry. We've all seen Liam's video on snapchat from last month, where he said he was stunting and forced to do things he didn't want to do and to send help. I often used to say that I didn't understand why the boys accepted this situation instead of just getting out, consequences be damned. Ofc it's easier said than done. But I thought maybe they thought it was worth it in some way. But then, Louis got out. Zayn got out. (In some way, I mean they have privacy and a real career, like Niall and Harry). I guess I will never understand why Liam was still the only one so stuck in this shitty situation. Why couldn't he live his life in peace like Zayn and only appear when he released music? Why couldn't he find a better team or why did he even accept to go along for so long? Why did people let him? Why?! That's what I want to know. Fucking why. And I want Liam's image/reputation to be redeemed. Anyway I digressed I'm sorry.

I just sincerely hope Zayn will be ok. Jaymi who was in Union J lost his soon-to-be-husband a couple months ago (Olly was buried the day they were supposed to get married last month). They'd been together for 14 years. And Olly died in similar circumstances (a fall from the 3rd floor of a hotel). And as incredibly awful as this is, knowing that other people are going through similar grief helps a bit, and I hope it will help Zayn and Liam's loved ones know they're not alone. (Edit: I'm not saying these deaths are linked, Olly's death is an accident, Jaymi was there when it happened. This paragraph is about not being fully alone in grief because other ppl go through similar things).

Idek if I've answered your question. I guess basically the stunts don't cross my mind coz it's not important to me. These past few years when Liam was alive it wasn't important (tho I hated it) bc I accepted the boys made their own choices. And now it's not important bc it won't bring Liam back and bc his loved ones matter more to me. Now, if I'm actually wrong about my beliefs then it is what it is and I feel for his exes/gf/child, and if the maya thing is true I still think addiction made him act that way and that if he'd got a chance to really get better this wouldn't have happened again. If I'm not wrong tho, I truly feel for Zayn who doesn't get to grieve the way he deserves to. Tho I'm glad he has loved ones who know the truth and who can support him the right way.

I hope this helps. Feel free to tell me if you want to discuss this further or anything ❤️

(Link to the videos of Liam from snapchat: x)

[hana-no-seiiki]

Can you write something about yaoshi?thou their design is very pretty (⁠●⁠’⁠3⁠)⁠♡⁠(⁠ε⁠`⁠●⁠)

Let's say we're their fav human/god

I hope this makes sense

We don’t know much about the Aeons yet, so don’t expect this to be an accurate representation of what Yaoshi acts like. I’ll give ya two versions (human and aeon reader).

(YANDERE?) YAOSHI x READER (ft. Other Aeons)

warnings: ddne, mind break, power imbalance, massive age gap & infantilization(for the human section), yandere themes in general, somnophillia.

note: from what i read in yaoshi’s lore what i wrote feels like something the canon character would do hence the question mark

status: unedited

STORY ONE : TO LIVE IN ABUNDANCE | Doctor ! Reader

I.

Yaoshi could not fathom why one would not wish for eternal life. Life was the most beautiful thing in existence. Wondrous, with a diversity one could not begin to imagine. Yet, there exists people who desire for existence to come to a halt, many who wish for their teachings and gifts to end.

You were one of those people.

Despite your occupation as a doctor, you believed that every patient had a right to choose their destiny. Whether it be to continue fighting for their lives or to die peacefully in their death beds, who were you to decide what happens to them? You were only the nurturer and provider. Even the best doctor in their field has to let go of a patient when it came down to it. For life is only beautiful, meaningful when it has to diminish one day.

And in spite of your beliefs, Yaoshi decided to bless you to join him in his path.

Your world was shaken.

Why were you of all people chosen by this Aeon?

Sure, you were fully dedicated to career. But if anything, your views were more aligned to the Archer Lord of Fate. You have had many Mara strucken, the victims of Yaoshi’s ‘gifts’, pass away before your very eyes. Beasts who have long lost their minds and ability to choose what future they’ll follow. If you had a choice, without a heartbeat

Several millenia pass with you never aging. Generals that ruled come and go.

And now, because of their so-called kindness, you were banished from Xianzhou. Your home. Thrusted into the embrace of space and void,

and none other than the Aeon that doomed you.

“Child. You have come home at last.”

II.

If you were born into a different culture, perhaps a planet that worshipped the Aeon before you, maybe then you would be elated with your current happenstance.

But this was not the case unfortunately.

You spend around a decade filled with hatred and anger. Hurling the most venomous words and even attempting to harm their being. Of course, none of your actions do anything to help your situation.

A century was spent trying to convince them to let you go, to rescind their blessing and leave you to live your life as a mortal.

They refused, stating that it would saddened them to lose you.

It gets close to another century with how long you spent in tears. For the loss of your loved ones that had left you to go to the afterlife. For the situation you were forced into. As you cried and cried, all Yaoshi could do was embrace you using their many arms. It was a peculiar feeling at first but unfortunately became comforting soon enough.

And after all that you finally gave in.

Yaoshi did not seem surprised at all. In fact what awaited your complete acceptance was a gentle smile. One akin to a parent seeing their child come back home after running away in a fit.

“We can finally begin the preparations.”

“For what?” Your voice, hoarse and abused by your depressed barely came out.

“For our wedding.”

iii.

You were used to their multi-armed touches, their inhuman way of showing affection towards you. But nothing could prepare you for the consummation.

You don’t remember anything. Throughout the whole process you were extremely disassociated to the point of being catatonic.

This, this was your life now. Stuck to a god as a human who has far outlived their expiration date. Slowly yet surely your mind corroded.

And even as your body was littered with the golden allure of ginkgo leaves, your freedom never came.

Yaoshi did end up releasing you from their grasp to roam the cosmos freely. People from all over the universe called you the Golden Wanderer, or the Sanctus Medicus Saint.

But what was the point?

Even with your endless fame and immortality. You were a dead man walking.

Waiting, hoping, that one day someone would grant you mercy a god of life and everything beautiful in it could not.

STORY TWO : TO DIE IN THE LIGHT | AEON OF DREAMS - IMAGINARY ELEMENT ! READER

i.

In the time humanity and civilizations began to rise. You were created within the womb of the universe representing a concept. Dreams. Though you most presided over preferable ones, you were known to give unending nightmares to those that slighted you and your domain.

In the grand scheme of Aeons, you were neutral. Never straying from the unbiased perspective of a god. Those that worshipped and favored you get rewarded, those that dirtied your name were punished.

For that you were often looked down upon by your fellow gods, seen as indecisive with your head literally and figuratively stuck in the clouds.

Yaoshi used to be one of them. They had a difficult time understanding how one could live without ever peeling their eyes to the grandiose aesthetics of the world.

They soon began to fall in love with your fair — beautiful and impartial — self.

And if those mara-struck beings were anything to go off of . . .

Their infatuation spelt your doom.

ii.

There you were. Your form shone brilliantly under the light of the moons and stars that seemed to dangle above you.

Even a god snored, and snored you did. But to Yaoshi this hoarse sound was music. No, even more than that.

It was a reminder that throughout the eons, you two are alive. Together. Breathing.

Yaoshi visited your slumbering body frequently to the point that it became a risk. That Lan would sometimes stand guard over you in case they would come, or have the Xianzhou oversee your vicinity. Not many mortals can hold up against the Aeon however, and if it meant having to go against their path in order to see you — the choice was obvious.

Their stays mostly consisted of performing lullabies and poetry of how both your and their followers adored your seemingly romantic partnership, to your blissfully unaware body.

At least that’s what they thought.

iii.

Contrary to popular belief, your most devoted of followers do not eternally sleep. Nor do the majority spend a lot of their sleeping. In order to spread your name, a lot chose to stay awake. Because if there was anything your true followers loved more than a good nap it was you.

As such, not known to many people or gods, you had a vast network of knowledge. A lot of what people learn and experience appear in dreams, and once the more fantastical ones were taken off the list, you were left with a near infinite amount of information.

Humans have also mastered a way of communion with you.

Case in point, you had long known about Yaoshi’s visits. You were the one that asked Lan to aid you. Breaking your self imposed rule of impartiality.

But all is for naught.

Misinformation had spread far too wide and the delusions Yaoshi infected the world with overpowered your truth.

Their acquisition of you was as tranquil and hurdle free as it could be.

While you were caged by Yaoshi, another Aeon swore to bring you back.

Ending life and therefore your deeply unconscious state. A state which they saw as involuntary. A cage infinitely worse than the Aeon of Harmony kept you in.

And the first Stellaron was born.

a/n: i imagine human reader, especially post yaoshi adoption, to be like a lifesteal-tank sort of abundance character. only ever healing(mostly themself) if they attack/hurt the enemy, which would go against what yaoshi wants. i might draw a design for them actually. the type that if you build well, won’t ever die. but any battle with them would take a really long time since their damage is pp in comparison to other characters at the very least.

[link to the design/drawing here if i ever finish it]

[here’s a link to another aeon related fic]

i wanted to include both versions here before i uploaded this even if the first one is so long cause i just know im never gonna write a part two if ever lol. and yes, the aeon in the last bit is nanook.

want more hsr fics/have an idea for one? send me an ask or submission ❤️

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

[v3nusxsky]

I wanted to make a request of like dom!lesso and shysubby!reader where the reader is a quiet new librarian of the merging schools and they get off to an angsty start where lesso HATES the reader and the reader just wants to be friends and then maybe some smut happens and then lesso gets soft for the reader and they live happily ever after✨✨

Unexpected lover 18+

*Authors note ~ finally getting through my assignments which is freeing up some writing time to get through some requests I’m so sorry it’s taken me ages to get to it school literally is killing me*

Trigger warnings~ dom lesso, subby r, mommy kink, praise kink, thigh riding, sorta enemies to lovers?, degrading kink, begging, oral sex, slight pet play/humiliation kink

Prompt~ see ask^^^

You joined the schools staff team when the schools still held the divide. Good vs evil. And you happened to be the one stuck in the middle. As a librarian to both schools you had your fair share of encounters with people from each side. Sure the ever side was very sweet and friendly but there was something about the Never side that made your heart break, clearly they were misunderstood but trying to conform to why society makes them. Even with the two deans you could see the parallel between them. Despite her behaviour toward you, you were drawn to the dean of evil like a moth to light. She was just so intense and intelligent that your heart always beat an extra beat in her presence.

To Leonora, you were an annoyance. Her students raved about your calming aura and how respectful you were to everyone. How good. And that was a hindrance to say the least. Here she was doing her job, trying to mold the next villains into being successful and yet you seemed to fight against her every step by showing them kindness and respect. It was frustrating beyond belief. At least that’s what she told herself, it most definitely wasn’t that she felt drawn to you, completely and utterly ignorant to her own desires to be near you. Evil doesn’t love. Evil doesn’t like. Evil is chaos and mess, everything you weren’t. So she most definitely wasn’t drawn to something so… good. Pure. Fire would freeze over in hell before she admitted the truth that ate away at her heart.

You hoped with the schools merger that Leonora would come round. Everyone else in the schools had, the library was now filled with a gentle buzz, students mixing with ease, the staff seemed to be managing well too. All expect her. At first you blamed yourself. Perhaps you were too shy, too needy, or even weak to her. But then you’d remind yourself that everyone else likes you. Everyone else speaks to you in the corridor as they pass. Everyone but her. You are by no means a scary person, people often think you’re easily manipulated due to your timid nature, so it can’t be that. Leonora doesn’t strike you as the type of woman to be scared of little old you. All you wished for was the same cordial friendship with her that you had with others. Instead you seemed to be more of an annoyance to her, like she couldn’t stand to be in the same room as you. Breathe the same air.

Every story to ever be told has had a meaning, a message to the reader. You loved discovering what the words on the page were trying to tell you. Most story’s you adore have the clear message that the line between love and hate, like and lust and fear and desire can be thin. Sometimes so thin it’s hardly visible. You like to believe this is true, you see it daily as someone who observes the coming and going’s of people frequently visiting the library. Each day there’s something new, a development in their own story, something you thrive on noticing. Little did you know, your story was about to get a new chapter, with a curve ball no one would have expected to occur.

The new chapter began like any other, working to tidy all the books and close the library for the night, ensuring every book was returned to its rightful spot while students began to filter out and back to their dorms from the late night study they were engaged in. Yet the presence of one dean in your usually calm atmosphere was throwing you off. She seemed to be engrossed in her book that she’d swiped from the curses and death traps section. She sat ever so regally by the heater in the corner of the room. It was hard not to notice the striking woman in your space, yet if she noticed you she didn’t seem interested as she flicked through the pages of her book.

By the time you’d sorted all the books in the library you’d made many hints of the time, the fact the library was closing and even going as far to stand behind the counter nervously drumming your fingers against the wood. You wished to have the confidence to ask the woman to leave, yet you couldn’t find it in your heart to approach her. Not when this was the closest to co existing in each other’s presence you’d got since you took the job. You’d be lying if you said she wasn’t slightly intimidating, it’s unsurprising that she was the one to make the move.

Meanwhile Lesso was getting irritated with the constant sound echoing round the room, interrupting her book. Your nervous energy was practically suffocating the woman. It was obvious you were waiting for her to leave, subtly wasn’t a strong suit of yours she decided. That’s when something snapped within her, this cat and mouse game needed to end. Evil doesn’t need to ask, evil gets one way or an other and you aren’t any different if you want her to leave her you’re gonna have to earn it.

“Got something to say dove?” Her words flowed like honey, the nickname coming from thin air but feeling so right it just flowed, “why don’t you just say it?” Leonora was talking to you. You. The shock clouded your mind causing her to chuckle, “cat got your tongue huh?”

“I- you- uh” you stuttered dumbly trying to not make a fool of yourself with trembling limbs you asked her to leave so you could close up. “If you want me to leave then you should come over here and make me” her challenge was set, yet she couldn’t be bothered to even spare you a look. If she did she would’ve seen the crimson blush covering your cheeks as you internally fought with yourself. Could you just walk to her and get her to leave? Would it be that easy?

Minutes later you slowly rounded the desk, hesitantly making your way to the woman only to be stilled by a tut of displeasure. “Did I say you could walk to me? No. Crawl dove, be a pretty pet and put a show on for me.” Crawl? Seriously? “I - what?” You mumbled causing the dean of evil to lazily click her fingers at you as if you were nothing more than a disobedient puppy.

You aren’t sure what bothers you more, that you sank onto your hands and knees or that arousal rushed through your body at the treatment. Scanning the empty library you started to crawl forward, eyes downcast as you obeyed her wish. The carpet scraped against your bare knees, the skirt of your dress dragging on the floor and getting stuck as you moved. By the time you reached the older woman, humiliated and aroused she had discarded her book to appreciate the view. The way your chest heaved and you kept your eyes to the ground drove her wild as you sat back on your knees. So pliant for her. So willing. Desperately trying to please her. She’d have some fun with a pretty pet like you. “What do you say we have some fun, show me what a good girl you can be.”

You swear you’ve had this dream before. The kind you wake in the middle of night questioning your subconscious brain. It’s only natural that you immediately nod along to her request. With a simple demand of “earn it then” and a snap of her fingers her pussy was on display for your curious eyes to view. With a simple gesture to get on with it you dove straight in. You always imagined she would like the tougher side of sex, she wouldn’t want the teasing build up and you were right. Her hand came to your hair, gripping the locks so tight it was almost painful. Almost. The sinful moan you let free was immediately swallowed by her greedy core cause the vibrations to hit her clit deliciously.

“Mm my what a good dove you are. Just like that baby” she grunted as her hips started to buck into your mouth, covering your lower face with her slick. “God what a good slut I have here. Wouldn’t have waited this long to claim you if I knew you were such a whore.” If you weren’t glued to her core you may have protested at the language she was using. Yet again, you weren’t in the position to argue as you ate her out with abandon. You could tell you were doing a good job when her thighs tensed and her moans seemed to be louder than before. The closer she got to climax the more praise she threw at you causing you to press your thighs together. Desperate for some friction. Relief. And that sight, you being nothing more than a needy whore on your knees, eating her cunt like it’s the last meal on death row was what threw her over the edge. Inner walls clenching as you lapped up your reward with ease.

You only pulled away from her warm core because she made you. Tugging you up to your feet by your hair. You stumbled slightly as the blood flow returned to your lower legs causing her to easily settle you on her lap. Your clothed pussy settled over her good thigh as her hand settled under your chin to guide you into a passionate kiss, tasting herself on your tongue. Unsurprisingly, as soon as the kiss started she was in control. The way she would nip at your lip to allow the metallic taste to dance between your tongues caused you to whine into her mouth. The level of need this woman awoke in you should be criminal. You couldn’t be more glad that she gave in and crossed the line between love and hate.

Instinctively, you began to slowly drag your clothed pussy along her toned thigh, seeking friction as she kissed you. A kiss so good you saw you forgot your own name. Her hand came to grip your hip, guiding your almost pathetic grinding. Pulling away from the kiss she couldn’t help but tease you. “A desperate thing you are hmm? So needy you are gonna use my thigh like a bitch in heat? Poor girl. Have I neglected this needy cunt?” Her words combined with the friction she provided was dizzying. So dizzying in fact, you mewled “mommy please” before your brain could even catch up.

“Oh it’s like that is it dove?” Her signature smirk graced her lips before she trailed them to your lips, nipping and sucking the silky smooth skin there. “I- oh, mm please mommy. Oh God” you whined chasing the pleasure she was providing too much to even care about the name choice. “Gonna cum for mommy darling? Gonna cum all over my thigh? Such a pretty slut for me. Go on, cum” she punctuated the last word by sinking her teeth into the junction between your neck and shoulder causing you to hurtle over that edge, riding out every wave of pleasure that hit you.

Leonora couldn’t help but be star struck by the post orgasmic bliss that over took you, ragged breaths as you fought to calm your heart rate, shaking legs that tried to grip her thigh in order to keep the sensation alive. Big doe like eyes peering at her through hooded lashes. Stunning. A sight that should belong to the heavens alone. And in this moment where you collapsed into her, her arms wound around you too quickly to be thought of, she knew that you would be hers. Evil or not, she couldn’t bear to let anyone see you like this. A pretty little thing begging for mommy to help her. Perhaps good and evil could co exist. After all you fit so perfectly in her arms it would be sinful to separate you from her. Maybe just maybe, evil did get good, to love and to cherish and to enjoy.

Word count~ 2032

[valentine-cafe]

Any tips for those who want to create ocs/ start writing? I have been thinking about writing for a long time but Im stuck on where to start

﹙ 🍒. ﹚ ─── Hello darling! I hope this finds you well. I'll start with the oc question and then transcend into where to start with writing. Buckle up this ended up being so much longer than anticipated.

Tips for OC CREATION

Get inspiration. This seems like an obvious one, but you'll be surprised how much I forget to do this at times. Start with a small idea. For example, you want to make a baker oc? Pinterest is your best friend. Make a board, start saving everything to do with baking; whether you have any other concrete ideas or not. Just start saving images. You'll start stringing together a theme as you go. Maybe you'll discover that this baker really loves flowers. Which then comes the quesion - why do they love flowers? Or maybe you'll discover that this baker has a bakery along the seaside. Once more the question comes up - why? From here you'll be able to create a blurp for your character and a basis as a whole. Remember, don't force inspiration! This can be tricky, but let it come naturally. 

Don't be afraid to play around with ideas. Sometimes we tend to focus too much on 'things ,making sense'. This robs a lot of the creative process. While yes certain things should make sense, but don't hold each and every one of your ideas to this standard. Throw a bunch of ideas to the wall and see which ones stick! You never know what unique idea you could end up creating. Even if they don't make sense at first. Just jot them all day and find a way to loop them. As stated, some ideas may stick and some may not. 

Get an appearance. I find that figuring out how a character looks after your basis really helps with envisioning them more. Note: I only look for appearances after I have my basis and general ideas as listed above. Because this helps the appearance process. Remember our flower loving baker on the seaside from earlier? Well, maybe their eyes are blue like the ocean. Maybe their skin is sunkissed because of the warm weather. Maybe they keep their hair short too because of this. Of course, you still have free reign here too. Don't be afraid to give your character some bizzare quirks. Different colours eyes? Hair? Peculiar birthmarks? Go for it. Don't listen to the people who call 'mary sue' every left and right. 

Personality. Chances are with all the steps above you have a general consensus of the personality. But don't just shallow it out to the generals! List down positive, neutral and negative traits. Even morally good characters have negative traits. Even morraly bad characters can have positive traits. Neutral traits are also very important. Also note that you can twist a positive or negative trait to create something different. The positive trait "compassion" can quickly turn sour if the character confuses compassion for letting people walk all over them. The negative trait "deceitful" can turn positive if the character is in a story where deceit protects their general wellbeing as well as their loved ones. I'd suggest checking out this post of 600 personality traits. 

Character quirks. Character quirks are what make your character feel alive. This can be something as simple as: 'he's a midnight snacker and always needs some extra crackers at home because of this.' Play around, mix and match, you'll be able to create even more story with quirks! For example, maybe 'she adores nature and makes sure to thank it whenever she takes from it' why does she do that? Was she taught that? Is it to do with her family? Occupation? Beliefs? I'd suggest checking out this post of 170 character quirks.

Give. Your. Character. Conflict. I'm not saying throw them round the wringer ( although if that's your thing, by all means. Do it. I do it sooo much ). Even if your character is just the casual slice of life character, they need to have something that drives them! Any sort of conflict, big or small, can make a huge impact on making your character feel real. It can be something as simple as 'they are a writer, but have severe procrastination'. You don't have to give them life-changing struggles, but even just a few make the difference. If there is one rule I follow in my character writing journey: to see the beauty of gemstones, you must break them. Much like a gemstone that we break open, when we put a character on a low, aw spectrum - we see what they are all about. Admittedly, I take that saying to a very extreme level but I understand that most simply do not wish to do that. That is perfectly fine. Just weigh your character down in some way. 

Give your character a way of speaking. This seems small but it is one of the most important ones to me. Note down how your character speaks. What language do they speak? How do they speak it? Is there slang? Do they have a certain word or phrase that they repeat? Long sentences or short sentences? Flowery speech or blunt? This will all depend on all of the points above. Accumulate them and give your character a unique voice. This will help you individualise them. It also makes it easier to write with them. Adds so much personality flare!

Have fun! Another one that sounds obvious but can very easily be overlooked. Make sure that you have fun through the process. If the character isn't working out for you or is frustrating, rip it apart and start afresh! There's no shame in that. Howl and I have been planning this book series for almost one and a half years now and do you know how many characters we had to tear down and rebuild? Seong-Jin 9948e was one of them. I hated how his character was, it wasn't working out. I wasn't having fun with him. I had to tear him down to the very bone and reset him. Now? I adore him. You're not obligated to see all of your ideas through. If something's not working out, it's time for a new canvas! At the end of the day, make sure you are creating characters for you that you will love and have fun while doing it. Even with the characters you 'hate' because of morality or whatever it may be. Have fun with them. Have fun in general. 

Phewwww okay. . . now lets get to getting started with writing. 

Tips for getting started with WRITING

Ask yourself the most important question. Why do I want to start writing? It can be simple, it can be grand, regardless of what it is, it's valid. Identify it. Write it down. Just know why you wanna write. That's gonna be your key motivator for when things get rough and cloudy. 

More questions. What do I want to write about? How do I plan on writing this? Identify these key questions as well. Even if they seem obvious, identifying them is a very big step. You'll be able to make your game plan from here. 

Pick a place to write. I'm talking about document/site. There are various options. Howl and I typically use notion to organise and format our writing. There are of course many other options. Microsoft word, Google docs, Grammarly docs, Reedsy.com, hell - even basic notes. Choose somewhere where you will feel comfortable. Play around a bit. 

Write your ideas down. Even if your memory is tip-top, write that idea down the second you get it! Make a folder, make a notebook, do it digitally or not. Just write it down. Have a list of different ideas, even if they seem bareboned. Just write. Them. Down. You'll thank me later. This will be your pretty little writing bank where you can pull ideas out when needed.

Develop the ideas. Blurp them. Mindmap. Get those brain juices pumping! Write down random points and find a way to interconnect them. Even if they do not make sense. Once again, you'll be surprised just how much you can work out of your mind by simply scribbling everything that pops into your brain.

Inspiration is key. As I noted above, inspiration is very important. If anything, I suggest merging this with the previous tip. Go to pinterest, search up writing prompts on different platforms. Combinem link, do what you must. Throw everything into a large mixing pot and stir it up! Have pinterest boards even for you smaller oneshots if that will help you. Llisten to music, this is where majority of my inspiration comes from. Do the things that get your creativity flowing. It might seem cliche or dramatic but on the music standpoint? Classical music is your best friend. It stimulates a certain part of your brain that reallu gets things kicking. 

Practice writing. From my own experience, I have noticed that many writers including myself at times, forget to practice writing. This stems from the idea that you consistently plan and think out your ideas, fully flesh them out and then assume this will see you through. Another big misconception is that simply reading will make you a better writer. While yes, reading is an amazing way to improve your vocabulary, grammar and develop your style from your favourite writers. . . it is not practically practising writing. Here's a writing practice: get yourself a document. Or a paper. Whatever you see fit. Look around you. List down the things around you. Objects, the world out your window. Write about their shapes, their colours. Write what you smell, what you hear, what you see and feel. Make a story from all of these things. This practice in particular will not only be a great starter, but will also help you practise writing with the five senses. There are numerous practises you can pick up. Such as writing a scenario from a song or writing about a certain routine of your character. Identify your weak points and write pieces around them. You must write in order to practice. Seems obvious, right? ( haha ). But we tend to take our work or scheduled writing and assume that as practice. While it can very much be, you're gonna need that extra input!

Research. To tie in with the previous note. Research will aid your weak points. As writers, we write about experiences, about the world, actions. We cannot allow ourselves to write what we do not know. Now, that by now means equates to you studying every topic you can find under the sun, rather, research when necessary. Are you writing a fanfic where the character is of a different ethnicity? Do a little brush up on their culture and some facts around the ethnic background. A piece about a flourist? Learn a little about some flowers. Do you struggle with dialogue? Listen to people speak ( DO NOT LOOK AT MOVIES OR TV SHOWS. ). Listen to people in reality speak. See how they talk. The beautiful thing about writers is that we write about all sorts of corners of life. And so we must understand life itself. 

Routine. I know a lot of us dread schedules. So do I. But this isn't a schedule - it's a routine. Make a habit out of writing. Even if it's simply twenty minutes a day if you cannot sit down and work on what you want. Even if it's just practice. Please, find the time to write at least a little every day. Where you have time, block it out for writing. Make a tummer. Do writing sprints. Make a flow. Like any art form, it must be done consistently. 

No. Forcing. I know this may sound counterimtuitive to the last post but darling. Do not overwork yourself. Do not force yourself. There is a difference between holding yourself accountable to your routine and being hard on yourself. Identify your limits. Know when enough is enough. Take a breather, get some water, close your eyes, walk outside. Don't make this a chore. Again, it is art. Even if it is your job. It is still art, and art is freedom. 

Finish your WIPS. DON'T RUN FROM YOUR RESPONSIBILITIES. Yes, I know that I said do not force yourself, but this is another fine line that you must find balance in. I understand the issue of an idea losing its spark, I do. But hold yourself accountable at times. Complete your work in progresses. Your passion project, that fic you're holding off. At least try to. This will help in the long run of completing writing projcts in general. Because if you do this long enough, you'll develop it into a habit, trust me. I know this all too well. If you have an idea? Write it out! Don't post anything about it until you have all of it written out. This can also help. At times we get too excited with sharing the idea and get lost in all the highs that. . . the idea eventually falls short. And then we feel guilt for not seeing it through. Remember, consistency is key.

Write for youself. Everyone loves validation. I certainly do. Everyone wants to hear a - 'this is so amazing!' However, once more, we have another fine line. Make sure that you are writing for yourself. Make sure that what you are writing is something that aligns with you. Even if you are a fanfic writer taking requests. Find essence in that request and tune it so that you enjoy writing it. Even if you are the only person writing for this specific trope, a specific character, an au, whatever it may be. Write it. Get it out. Have fun with it. Post it. Not only are you doing yourself justice by expressing your creativity, but in the long run - you never know who might need that piece. You never know who might stumble upon it and have their day brighten up. Don't care about how people may receive it, don't care about the absurdity of it. Write it. And have fun while writing it. 

 

I really hope that this helped! I plan on making a little post like this for reader insert writers in particular because it is something that has been on my mind. . . remember, in whatever you do - have fun!

[polarisjisung]

MAKE A WISH

synopsis: jisung had made the same wish every birthday, this year it finally comes true

wc: 1.1k

pairings: jisung x fem! reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none (I hope)

notes: I have a deep love hate relationship with this work but it's jisung day so 🤷‍♀️

Jisung doesn't remember when liking you had turned into loving you.

All he remembers is that one day he woke up and his heart began to beat all the more faster at the sound of your voice. His breath catching somewhere in his throat, eyes darting around the room, lips pinching into a tight line, all when you were around, to avoid spilling the words that could so easily fall from his tongue in nothing but a whisper.

Today, you're rambling, as usual, something about how your outfit isn't actually monochome, since the black of your jacket doesn't quite match the slightly greenish black of your jumper, if he's being honest, jisung isn't really listening.

How could he with you stood in front of him so pretty, so clueless to the thoughts running circles in his mind, thoughts that begged him to crash his lips against yours at any moment.

Every time he ripped his eyes away, escaping the voices, his gaze would quickly scan over the room, first over the mini fridge filled with drinks that he knew would cost a fortune, then over the striped rug at the entrance of the room and finally the double bed you'd been sharing for the past two days.

Ah yes, the double bed.

One thing about jisung was that he understood you, everything about you, but he couldn't quite understand why your heart didn't skip a beat the same way his did when you woke up the last few mornings, legs tangled together with your head resting comfortably on his chest, his arms loosely gripping your waist.

He'd always wake up before you, he wonders how despite knowing him so well you had struggled to notice his facade of being asleep the past 2 days, taking small peeks at you when you decided not to free yourself from his arms, through his half closed eyes

That small victory, you hadn't realised, would make his day— despite all the extravagant activities you had booked for this surprise birthday trip of his, jisung found his most enjoyable moments to be the mornings he woke up to find you in his arms, like the whole world had been handed to him on a silver platter and the whole universe had become his in nothing more than the blink of an eye.

Hair messy, tired eyes and slightly puffed out cheeks staring up at him, jisung wished he could wake up with you snuggled up against him every morning, for the rest of his life. Maybe that was his birthday wish— the one he'd blow his candles out to tonight.

You always were a firm believer in wishes, new years, the first snow and especially birthday wishes.

Tonight is no different when you arrive in front of jisung singing the happy birthday song completely out of tune, with a smile that reflected brightly off of the candle flames from the cake in your hand— perfectly imperfect and jisung wouldn't have it any other way

"happy birthday sung, make a wish"

Jisung makes the same wish he always had.

Jisung wished for you

"I hope your birthday wish comes true" you beam and jisung awkwardly smiles back, he'd been hoping the same.

It had been long since jisung realised he didn't just want you as a friend, or a best friend, but something about this trip had affirmed his belief that he wanted you as his forever.

Even now, hours later as you ramble, applying one of those expensive serums you'd been convinced to buy by some social media beauty guru, that really didn't do anything, jisung found his cheeks curving upwards at the sight of you, your words stuck on replay in his mind, maybe his wish would come true

"jisung are you even listening?" you ask, he's not

Not when your hair is still dripping wet from the shower you just took, in search for the glasses that sit atop your head with that concentrated look on your face, tongue sticking out from the left corner of your lip, the domesticity of the situation splitting his heart in two

"You know y/n" jisung began, staring up the textured ceiling of the hotel room, "for someone so smart" he sits up, sat facing you with crossed legs, "you sure are stupid."

You'd learnt not to take offence to his words, knowing all was said in good fun, it was his way of letting you know he cared

"Care to explain why?" you cock your eyebrow upwards, jisung staring wistfully your way

To the untrained eye he'd seem completely unphased by the lunge you'd taken towards him, faces inches away from one another, but for you the hopeful glint in his eyes is clear as day

He doesn't answer your question, the entertained expression on his face almost shocking

"You asked what I wanted for my birthday right?" you nod, eager to get him a gift he was sure to like, immediately straightening up

His lip tugged upwards at the sight of your sweet eyes staring into his and with one tug of your wrist, jisung had managed to pull you into his lap, your hands falling against his chest to stop your from plummeting face first into him

"What do you want sung? tell me and I'll get it for you?"

Jisung sighed, moments like this, when you so innocently demonstrated your care for him, only added to his desire to lay the world at your feet and despite the way his cheek puff inwards, jisung looks at you confident as ever, say the word and he'd turn the world upside down for you

"I want you"

You steady yourself against his shaky hold, feeling the bubbling anticipation that begins to rise in his chest through the quickening of his pulse against your fingers, for a moment you feel your ears have deceived you, tilting your head slightly at the words that echoed loudly in your ears

"I want you with every fibre of my being, all i want is you, to call you mine" he's staring at you so longingly, you can't help but believe him, "I love you"

if ever you felt a moment where the world had come to a compelte standstill you'd assume it was now, when the silence bounced off the walls and the amplified sound of breathing taunted you at the lack of a response, your own response

You can only nod, afraid your vocal chords will give way halfway through whatever sort of sentence you can throw together considering the lack of blood flow to your brain, heat rushing to your now flushed cheeks instead

"I think I love you too"

"you think?" his gummy smile practically shines down at you, still half hanging between his arms with a subtly confused expression radiating from your eyes "I'll take it"

You shake your head, "no I know I love you"

[starsomens]

Reader and Noah on the day of their wedding!!

Like maybe from their povs? Like individual? Maybe they do a first look or one of them gets nervous so one of them goes to the other end they hold hands without looking, you know what I mean???

If you understand thank you love😭

A/N: AHHH so adorable! I guess I kinda mushed 2 ideas together??

You were pacing back and forth in the dressing room of the venue, nerves getting the better of you. Your makeup was flawless, your hair styled perfectly. The dress? It hugged your figure like a dream, making you feel like royalty. Yet, amidst this perfection, you were a bundle of nerves. Your hands trembled, the words of your vows tangled on your tongue, and you couldn't believe you were sweating enough to risk your makeup.

"Y/N, you're going to do just fine!" "we'll be there to remind you anyway!" "Noah's gonna love anything you say to him hon"

It was undeniable that your friends were an incredible support system during such a time. As you reviewed your vows, you hoped to recite them from memory, yet you were very aware that the paper would be necessary. Amidst your reading, your phone vibrated on the table. Approaching, you noticed Nick was calling. The plan was for you and Noah to stay out of contact before the wedding, but it seemed Noah had assigned Nick to keep in touch with you, just in case.

"Hello?"

"hey Y/N..so we may have a bit of a situation and the ceremony starts in an hour," Nick gets right to the point "nothing bad just nerves..."

Crap.

"Can I talk to him Nick?" You asked starting to worry about your soon to be husband

"Well that's what I was going to ask," he says "he wanted to know if you two can meet?"

"Meet? But-"

"I know, the seeing part but just trust me on this. Neither of you will see one another but I think he really just needs to be in your presence right now..." you sigh feeling as if this was a bad omen (HA). What if he was getting cold feet? What if he didn't want to marry at all??

You take a deep breath and sigh "Alright Nick, I trust you. Where should I meet you guys?" you ask him

"We'll come to you, don't worry. See you soon," he said, and abruptly, the call ended. Despite the slight dilemma, you were relieved that Nick was there to assist him. You informed the girls about the situation and mentioned that you might need the room to yourself. About ten minutes later, a knock on your door prompted you to answer it. As you cracked open the door, you found no one there. It seemed odd, and just as you were about to step out, you heard Noah's voice.

“I’m here babe…..” he stuck his hand out to the right where he was hiding behind the wall where you couldn’t see him. Very, very clever, you take his hand in yours and lean against the frame

"Hey...." you said softly "what's going on baby? talk to me..." you gave him a small squeeze coxing him to speak

"I uh...I was practicing my vows and I was listening to my words and I just though like....how....what if....I can't live up to what...I want to give you?" he sighs

"What...what do you mean hon?"

"I mean...I want to give you everything you want and deserve, I want to be the best partner, I just want you to be happy and keep you happy.....what if I fail? What if I make you miserable instead?"

Oh God… this poor man. The urge to giggle at his concerns was there, but it was overshadowed by heartache over his lack of self-belief. You understood that marriage was a significant leap and wouldn't be flawless. Yet, it was him you wanted to brave it with, and no one else.

"Noah, darling…" you exhale deeply, intertwining his fingers with yours, "Do you remember our anniversary? You had this grand idea planned, but then it rained, our reservation fell through, and we just headed back home to order pizza, remember?"

"Yeah…" It wasn't his proudest moment; he had wanted to make it special, but it felt as though the world was against that. "I'm still sorry about that—"

"It was one of my favorite dates. Nothing was overpriced or extreme, and I always laugh and smile when I recall us getting caught in the rain together," you say, smiling at the memory of both of you giggling in the rain after being told your reservation was canceled. You both stood outside the restaurant, laughing under the downpour. "And how you indulged me with a kiss in the rain, just like in the movies. I remember sharing the story with my friends and feeling so giddy about the memory. The way you kissed and held me in the rain, and then we chose our favorite movie to watch afterward…"

“…did you actually like it?” He asked

"Apart from the proposal, it's my favorite memory of us. You don't need to be perfect because you already are perfect to me. Every flaw, every habit, everything you think you need to improve—I love all of it… I love you so much, Noah," he said softly, giving his hand a squeeze. You knew that sometimes he underestimated himself. He works tirelessly, striving to improve, yet he doesn't give himself enough credit, and that extends to everything he does in your relationship.

"our marriage won't be perfect, but it doesn't mean we won't work it out together, okay?"

"y-yeah...okay princess.." you hear a slight sniff

"Awhhh baby are you crying?"

"N-no! I have allergies!" Your only response was to giggle at his defense. You knew he could be emotional yet still try to conceal it. Raising your hand, you waited for him to notice your signal. He understood all too well and leaned his face into your hand. As your thumb gently caressed his cheekbone, he relaxed into your touch, turning his face to kiss your palm.

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't you dare apologize, Noah, instead I want you to wait or me at the alter and know that I'll be there...okay?"

“Okay……I love you Y/N.”

“I love you Noah….”

You both hesitantly let each other’s hands go knowing that the ceremony would be starting in about 20 minutes. However, matter, you’ve had this encounter with your soon to be husband, it was cut down to about 10. Which meant that Noah was now running down to the altar and you were putting on your finishing touches, grabbing your bouquet and making your way down to the entrance door.

First, the groomsmen and the bridesmaids walked down the aisle. You wait your turn, praying and hoping to whatever God or entity there is that you wouldn’t trip down the aisle and forget your vowels. All thoughts were followed by the flashing cameras provided by Bryan to capture some behind-the-scenes. Waving his hand above his head so that you can look his way and smile. Noah may or may have not told him to get extra pictures of you so that he can have to remember.

And now finally, it was time for you to walk down the aisle as the song you picked starts playing. Jolly had actually done the honors of playing the guitar of the song you and Noah had dedicated to yourselves and your relationship everyone as you start to walk down the aisle. Everybody in all and all smiles as they see you, enter with your gorgeous dress and a beautiful bouquet to match.

All of these eyes were trained on you, but all you could focus on was Noah the way he smiled and how his face would come down over his eyes as he tried to hold his back. Especially when it came to displaying his emotions in public, Noah was very good at it except for today. Today he saw the woman of his dreams, walking towards him, looking absolutely stunning in that moment as you make your last few steps to him and take his hand he cannot understand how someone like him so someone like you.

The song ends, and everybody takes a seat as the officiant speaks.

“We are here today witness the union between Noah and Y/N. Now, before we get to the vows, Noah had asked me to let you all know that despite his expression down, he is crying like a baby” your friends and family giggle as the officiant narrates Noah’s in her monologue “however, my part is going to be short. These two tell each other exactly what it is like to be in love,”

That was your signal to start

“Noah, you came into my life when I was in pieces and put me back together. He saw me for all of my broken heart and left me anyway. It didn’t scare you but it made you stay and I love you for that,” you take a breath as you blink away the tears and continue to speak “ Noah. You are my best friend and there is no one in this world. I would rather spend the rest of my life with I promise stay up late and wait for you to get home, I promise to make waffles with you the day you’re home after tour, but above all else I promise to love you endlessly even on the days that you don’t love yourself I will love you in your place”

No caresses the back of your palm with his thumb as he quietly mouths “Thank you baby,”

Noah then pulls out a paper slip that he had in the pocket of his tux and starts to read.

“ When I first met Y/N, I was actually way too scared to go and talk to her. So what I did was when her and her friend were looking, I threw a napkin with my name and number on it, hoping that she would text me, great plan right?” The crowd chuckles “ but somehow she found my social media instead because your friend is a damn FBI agent. I am so glad that she did, because now I don’t hesitate for a moment when it comes to her. I knew I was first together. I wanted you to be with me for the rest of our lives. I wanted to be the one to make you smile, the one to make you laugh and the ones to love you until my dying breath” you can already tell that you were crying, and you just didn’t care if it would mess up your make up. Hearing his declaration of love was enough to make you like a baby

“Y/N, you are the light of my life, and my reason to keep going. Even in death, I will find you and continue to hold and love you. And even in our next lives, I will find you again and love you more and more each time….i love you so so much…”

At this point, everyone in the crowd, including the officiant, were tears and moved by your words of love.

“ I think it’s very clear with the answers are but Noah do you take Y/N to be your wife as long as you both shall live ?”

“I fucking do”

“And do you Y/N, take Noah to be your husband for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do…”

“Then By the power invest of me, but the state of California, I am not your husband in life. You may kiss the bride.”

Noah did not have to be told twice as he pulled you in close by your waist. His other hand coming to the back of your head as he crashes his lips onto yours. Your friends and family, roaring and celebration, as collapse, and she filled the room. But in the moment, everything went silent as you and Noah had finally, tied the knot pull back slightly and whispers to you

“ Mrs. Sebastian now…”

“ you’re my husband now,”

“Yes I am,” he smiles as he goes in for another kiss. Finally, you were his and he was yours.

[cacoetheswriting]

celebrity skin. (part eight)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 5.2k summary: a reconciliation in New York leads to a rediscovery of not-so-hidden feelings and answers to previously avoided questions — plus more.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, post-breakup emotional hurt / comfort, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of blackmail, & kinda rough smut (unprotected p in v sex) — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!

& psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.

celebrity skin. masterlist

One thing Eddie had been absolutely sure of: Stevie Nicks was right.

The trip to New York City was carried out solely on a whim. A gut feeling that the brunette rockstar could not quite shake. He had to see you, despite the possible consequences, and Eddie was smart enough to know there would be a lot. He acted like an ass and whether you would admit it or not, he knew he broke your heart.

Ever since his rise to fame, the Corroded Coffin frontman felt this bubble around him. A bubble created by his team, his band, his past, and his own disruptive behaviour — don’t do drugs was a warning he witnessed (and ignored) many times on posters too colourful for the subject matter, plastered on the walls of Hawkins High. Seemingly, the bubble protected Eddie from predators. Leeches that wanted to take advantage of his fame. Unfortunately, the bubble also shielded him from love.

Love. 

If the rockstar wasn’t so afraid of the feeling as a result of that bubble, perhaps he would have made different choices in all of his past relationships. Most importantly, perhaps Eddie would have made different choices in the one relationship that’s meant more to him than any other. If he wasn’t so afraid of love, and being in love, perhaps he would’ve fought to be with you a little harder.

And love is definitely how Eddie would describe what he felt towards you. Correction. Feels towards you to this very day. Maybe more, if that was possible considering he hasn’t seen you in months. 

So yes, Stevie Nicks was right. The concept of Silver Springs was right.

Seeing you again only affirmed that belief. Talking to you again, witnessing your smile for the first time in months… Well, Eddie never wanted to be apart from you for longer than he already had been. Unfortunately, that wasn’t up to him. Not for as long as your grandmother had her claw all up in your business and stuck her nose where it did not belong.

“So, what happens now?” The rockstar asks, only slightly afraid of the answer.

You hum under your breath, taking a moment to think, gathering your own thoughts. The sun is slowly rising in the distance, so the first response that comes to mind is that you should go home, and Eddie should go back to his hotel, Max’s place, or wherever the hell he’s been staying, before this place starts crawling with people. That would mean saying goodbye for lord knows how long and you were just starting to get comfortable with being around the rockstar again, although, not like that was insanely hard. Whatever. Simply, you didn’t want to say goodbye.

“We could go get breakfast,” you finally say.

Eddie smirks. “As much as like that idea, sweetheart, I didn’t really mean now in the full sense of the word.”

You laugh softly.

“Okay, hotshot.” Turning your head back to look at Eddie, you raise a brow. “What do you think should happen?”

The rockstar smacks his lips together before resting his elbow on one of his knees and bringing his thumb to his mouth. A nervous tick.

“Putting whatever reason I came here for aside, starting over seems like a bad idea since we’ve done that once before and it didn’t really end the way either of us hoped,” he says after a beat of silence, avoiding your gaze.

“Yeah,” you exhale, “Bad idea. Plus you said so yourself, you’re not the relationship type. Getting back together would be redundant.”

“Right,” Eddie agrees quietly, although he really doesn’t want to.

There’s another moment of silence. Nothing but the sound of morning birds chirping melodically and wind gust hitting the water ahead. In the quiet, there is solace. In the quiet, Eddie doesn't have to answer difficult questions or have conversations neither of you really wants to have. A blissful ignorance of what’s really happening here.

He still loves you. You most likely still love him.

It’s all just terrible timing for two people who are — in his mind, at least — made for eachother, but for one reason or the other, can’t be together. Not in this lifetime. Not with people controlling what they can or cannot do. Not with the whole world watching their every move. It hurt. Hurt that a life you both chose was also the life that’s actively destroying something good.

“We could try being friends?” Eddie offers eventually, looking at you then.

You smile. “Friends. I think I like that.”

-

Holly is the only person you’re fully comfortable talking to about all of this. She listens, actively nodding along as you spew your thoughts and feelings out loud, until the rambles become too hard to follow. Holly, ever the best friend that she’s always been, places her perfectly manicured hands on your shoulders and gives your body one shake to get you back on track when the story becomes a little too convoluted. And this one is all over the place.

There’s the run in at Saks, the meeting with Max, the plan, the date with Steve, all that leads to Eddie Munson banging on your front door until you let him inside. There’s the emotionally heightened conversation that doesn’t really amount to much. The dinner with your family that opened things up to questions from your nosh sisters and scrutiny from your Nana. Then there was Coney Island.

You pause.

It’s messy, for sure, and your feelings are all over the place as you recount each and every minor detail, which leads you to why you invited her over in the first place: what the fuck do you do about Eddie Munson?

Holly usually gives you advice. Parts of which you want to hear and take on board, parts of which you both know will be ignored. This time however, as you do your best to explain what’s been on your mind — and heart — since the rockstar arrived in New York, this time Holly doesn’t know what to say.

“I don’t know if I should forgive him.”

“Jeff says he’s been, like, super sullen all summer long. Locked in that house of his, or at the studio, working on shit he won’t let the band see.”

“That’s supposed to make it easier for me to do what, exactly? He’s secretive, that’s for sure. Hiding stuff from his band, from his sister, from me…”

You reach for the packet of smokes that Holly brought with her and light one, hand shaking ever so slightly.

“I got virtually nothing from him that night in my apartment. Slightly more under the Wonder Wheel, but still not enough to understand why he did what he did,” you exhale a puff of smoke, “Yet I can’t help but think that despite everything, especially ignoring the weeks I spent in bed because of him, we’re like meant for each other, you know?” 

Holly too lights a cigarette. She also doesn’t answer you.

“That’s kinda pathetic, no?”

“I think until you get the entire truth, it won’t matter whether you get back with him or just be his friend, or whatever, ‘cause you’re not going to be fully happy. Not really,” she explains, avoiding your question because there’s close to nothing worse than admitting to your friend that they’ve lost it completely.

“So I should confront him?”

“Jeff says Eddie doesn’t do well with confrontations.”

You groan. Head falling back on the cushioned sofa.

“Maybe I should just fuck him,” you think out loud, “Get all this frustration out and then just move on with my life.”

Holly laughs. “Just don’t let him finish,” she says, “Karma’s a bitch, and whatnot.”

-

New York City is your favourite place on Earth.

Despite your years of extensive travel to tour your various albums or attend different global award shows, New York, your home, has always been top of the list. Elegant, albeit slightly messy. Organised, although a little rowdy. It’s colourful, but dull. Full of people from every corner of the world, which only added to its pre-existing charm. You didn’t really think it was possible to fall in love with it even more until you’ve started to explore it all over again with none other than Eddie Munson — under a new guise of something called friendship.

The rockstar decided to extend his trip. Currently, there is no return date. Exploring New York became the only thing on his agenda. 

The two of you did your best to stay under the radar, away from prying eyes. Although, not like it was necessarily needed as Eddie’s idea of sight seeing involved bar hopping. Old-ish, rather shitty places that have definitely seen better days, but Eddie, he was like a kid in a candy store. With every beer poured and every bowl of peanuts shared, he lit up more and more.

“They remind me of home,” he finally explains, two days into your NYC adventure. “Of Hawkins.” 

You smile at him, but don’t say anything.

“What?” Eddie asks when he notices the look, mouth now full after taking another handful of the perhaps hundredth packet of peanuts the two of you have shared over the last few days.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, swirling the gold-ish liquid inside your beer bottle, “I guess it’s just nice that some small part of my home reminds you of your home.”

Eddie returns the fond expression. Friends is good, he thinks at that moment while catching another peanut with his mouth, not ideal, but good.

“There was this bar,” he says, leaning across the table so that he could be a little closer to you, “The Hideout. Our first venue, outside of Gareth’s garage, and the only place in my crappy hometown where I didn’t feel like an outsider.”

“Places like the Hideout, places like this.” Eddie swirls his finger in the air to show he means your current location, “They’ll always have a special place in my heart, I guess. They’re a part of me. Part of Corroded Coffin history.”

He stares at you for a minute. He’d never share this much with a friend, so perhaps this new concept you’ve both found yourselves in is not as good as the rockstar would like to think. “We could try being friends?” — Eddie’s second guessing his suggestion just as fast as he came up with it.

“We should see more of your home,” he finally states, “As much as I love them, I think we’ve seen all the dingy bars New York has to offer, so I’m open to suggestions.”

You bring the beer bottle to your lips and take a slow sip of the now semi-warm liquid, pondering his request. 

Where could you take Eddie that would represent your love for New York. The Statue of Liberty seems a little basic, as does Times Square — especially since you’ve both performed there in the past. Rockefeller Centre to see the street performers? The Met, even though both of you will most likely be invited next year to the exhibit. In reality, all of the touristy spots like Central Park, for example, would be a little too crowded for either of you to feel safe and remain unseen. 

Then your eyes glisten with an idea.

What’s more homey than a home itself: Cove City Sound Studios.

To any average person, it was just another recording studio found in New York. One of hundreds. To you however, it was heaven on earth. 

Located in Glen Cove, New York, Cove City Sound Studios had been home to many artists before you came along. A lot of albums were recorded here. A lot of number one hits — the list of which you were lucky to join more than once.

You always thought the ambiance of this place fueled your creativity. Often said the reason behind your resounding success was because you got the opportunity to record here. Of course Holly, Val, and especially your Nana, corrected you every time those words had left your lips. “You’re the reason behind your success,” your Nana would affirm, “Not some recording studio.”.

But you knew. Felt it deep within your bones. Cove City Sound Studios was magic.

“Damn,” Eddie mutters under his breath, fingers gently running across the various buttons as his doe-eyes dart across the posters on the wall — one of which features your 1985 album cover (a record once hidden under Eddie’s bed back in Hawkins). 

“Here I thought the place we recorded Honesty in was impressive,” he admits, “This though, this is another level.”

A smile circles your lips.

“Welcome to my home, Eddie Munson.”

The rockstar dips his head, sort of in a way of a little bow, and smiles so wide it makes your insides flutter. Friends, friends, friends. You repeat inside your mind, same thing Eddie is doing, although neither of you are aware. Friends hiding their true feelings.

“I’m honoured, sweetheart.” Eddie adds, placing a ring-clad hand on his heart.

“As you should be,” you tease and walk past him, pushing open a door into the vocal booth. 

The Corroded Coffin frontman follows you with zero to no hesitation. He watches as you slowly circle the small room before standing in front of a microphone, adjusting it to your height.

“I recorded every single one of my songs here apart from Honesty,” you reveal without looking at him. Focusing instead on tightening the metal rod in place. “Hundreds of records that will probably never see the light of day because my label doesn’t think they are good enough.”

Eddie snorts. “As if you could make something that wasn’t deemed good. We wrote shit together, remember? I know how good you are.”

Your lips twist into a timid smile and glance up at him from your lashes. “I appreciate that Eds, but unfortunately the industry doesn’t work that way and you, of all people, should understand.”

“Well, yeah, but doesn’t your grandmother have some sort of special power to get you whatever the fuck you want.”

It’s your turn to snort. “She may be resourceful, but she’s got no control over my management team. Even if she likes to think she does, the only real ability my Nana possesses is tell me what to wear and how to act.”

Eddie nods, taking note of this information. Knowledge he can use to free himself from deceit, blackmail.

Valuable insight into the evil woman that ruined his life since, as you’ve now so beautifully explained, she’s not nearly as formidable as she presented herself to be. A light at the end of the tunnel.

“Perhaps that’s why I can’t bring myself to listen to it,” you say, breaking Eddie away from his thoughts.

“What?”

“Perhaps that’s why I can’t bring myself to listen to Honesty. Because I didn’t record it here.” Nothing to do with the fact that it’s soiled by the memory of the last morning we saw each other, you think, clearly lying to yourself, and him.

Eddie swallows his breath. A twinge of guilt rushes through him. Actually, more than a twinge. A gush, like a waterfall out of control. He’s sure of it now. The two of you could never be just friends. Not until you knew the whole truth about why he did what he did and now that he knew your grandmother had a weakness in her armour, perhaps offering you the truth is something he could do sooner rather than later.

“Then maybe we should change that,” Eddie offers and proceeds to quickly shuffle out of the room, leaving you alone for a second.

You watch through the glass separating the two spaces as he scans the buttons, hands on his hips, tip of his tongue out to indicate he’s thinking. He looks cute and you fail to conceal a smile, so you opt to hang your head and stare at your shoes because you can’t afford to think he’s any sort of desirable. Just friends.

After taking a moment to familiarise himself with a new system, Eddie finds what he’s looking for and switches it on, before hurrying back to stand next to you.

“Ready?”

“Ready,” you affirm while putting a pair of headphones on.

For the next four minutes and twenty-two seconds, you get lost in the chocolate of Eddie’s eyes as you once again sing the song he wrote about you.

“Honestly, you got me fallin’ to my knees

It’s like ecstasy, this feelin’ inside of me

Let’s call it honesty”

Cove City Sound Studios creates magic. You’ve always believed it and now it’s only been affirmed because the way your voice melts with his — no band, no distractions — is nothing short of perfection. 

“You’re a devil in disguise

No, that’s what I want you to be

‘Cause in reality, hon’, you’re a hypnotic dream

An angel for sure

To a non-believer like me

Oh honesty, what have you done to me, honestly”

That’s why the song was a hit in the first place. Now you understand why your management team pushed you to do this collaboration in the first place. Magic. And as Eddie draws the last syllable without breaking eye contact, you’re transported back to the night you met. The night that inspired this song. 

The night that started all of this.

His mind wanders to the same moment, same place, same spot. Friendship is a word that no longer makes sense, but the rockstar doesn’t want to ruin anything (again), so he drops the headphones and exits the booth without saying anything.

You follow him with your gaze. A feeling of longing spreads through you faster than you know what to do with it. It’s unfortunately accompanied by fear because you’re not stupid, far from it. Eddie’s hurt you twice before. Going back in only to get burned a third time would be a grave mistake and you know better than to go down that road again. ‘Cause you do know better, right?

Then this morning’s conversation with Holly enters your mind. Your best friend was right. You could never be happy around him if you didn’t know the truth.

“Eddie, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Do you think if you didn’t end things when you did, we’d still be together? Or do you think we were doomed regardless?”

He takes a moment to answer. Avoiding looking up through the glass to meet your curious gaze, anxious for an answer.

“I already told you.” His deep voice eventually booms through the speakers. “I’m not the relationship type.”

“Bullshit,” you’re quick to state. It comes out harsher than intended.

“Sweetheart—” He’s shaking his head, still without looking at you.

“No, don’t you fucking dare,” you interrupt, suddenly feeling deflated by this whole situation, defeated in the fight against your feelings towards him. “Like I said before, you don’t get to sweetheart me and give me some bullshit vague answer.”

Eddie’s eyes are now closed. He’s hoping if he shows how he wants no part of this conversation — not right now, not before he gets to speak to your management and then offers you up the truth — that you will let it go. Like you did that night in Coney Island and those last few days too. You seemingly let it go and everything was okay. Fucking friends.

“I gave in too quickly. Into your presence. I missed you so much that when you showed up at my door, it didn’t matter how angry or heartbroken I was. All that mattered was seeing you again and being around you again. But I should’ve stood my ground.”

You’re now standing right in front of the glass window. Arms hanging by your side, nails digging into your palms to pump the adrenaline that’s fueling this fight.

“No matter how many times you tell me that you’re not the relationship type, I won’t believe you. I refuse to believe you because that guy I met in an empty kitchen of a Hidden Hills mansion was looking for something more than a random hook up. He may not have said it, but he proved it with his actions,” you continue your reasonings, “He craved something meaningful. I saw it in the way he smiled every time his eyes met mine, and sensed it in the way he held me close.”

Then you exhale.

“That guy, although hiding behind a mask of an arrogant  dickhead, he wanted to be loved and Jesus Christ did I—”

Eddie’s gaze snaps to you then, widening.

“But if I got it all wrong,” you continue after a few seconds, “If I misunderstood that guy and what he really wanted, then all I need is for him to be straight with me,” you conclude, “No bullshit excuses, Eddie. If you simply didn’t like me, if you simply didn’t care, just say that and we can both carry on with our lives as if nothing ever happened.”

The door slams. Eddie stands in front of you in a flash, brown eyes holding onto yours with force. He’s agitated. He runs a hand down his face before reaching for your shoulders, then dropping his arms back by his side just as fast.

“I cared, of course I cared!” He exhales to compose himself before continuing, “I still care.” It’s barely a whisper.

“Then why?”

“I-I… Well, I just…”

His mind is racing to find the right answer. The truth is what you’re after, unfortunately that’s the one thing he can’t give you yet. Not if he wants to continue witnessing your success. Because, at the end of the day, his own fame and fortune is no longer important. He could care less if it burned to the ground. Your fame however, your fortune, that’s not something Eddie’s willing to gamble. So again, until he can speak to your management, get ahead of your grandmother’s scheming, the truth will remain sealed.

At least some part of it.

“There was this girl. Back home.” Eddie begins, voice shaky, “Before you, she was the only girl that ever saw me for who I really was.”

“Chrissy Cunningham,” you say her name.

Eddie nods.

“Yeah, Chrissy,” he repeats the name. It tastes a little foreign on his tongue after all this time. “Seemingly the classic cheerleader type, you know? Blonde, preppy, always fucking smiling. But Chrissy, she uh… she was far from just a cheerleader. Like me, she was a little misunderstood and that’s what initially brought us together.”

“What happened to her?” You ask. “You keep saying ‘was’. Chrissy was, as if she’s no longer—”

“Look, sweetheart,” Eddie interrupts, “I-I don’t really talk about her. I don’t like to. Too many bad memories.”

“Right,” you murmur, nodding slowly.

“Long story short, I cared for her and it didn’t end well, so when my care for you started to surpass that feeling… I just got scared.”

“Then why not tell me about her in the first place?” You query, “We could’ve talked it out. Pumped the brakes on whatever our relationship was starting to become.”

Eddie doesn’t mean to, but he scoffs. “And then what, huh? Just tip-toe around how we’re actually feeling until that builds resentment? Then it just ends anyway, but it hurts a lot more, no?”

He’s running a hand through his wild locks. Frustrated wouldn’t be the right word. Annoyed feels borderline the same. Angry, yes, but not at you. Angry at the world for introducing such a perfect character into his otherwise shitty life because he’d be better off without you. No. You’d be better off without him? Also no. Jesus Christ, he’s fucking confused.

“That’s what you asked. If I didn’t end things, would we still be together. The truth is, sweetheart, I don’t know because I attract bad shit and people get hurt and… And I need you to be happy, with or without me.”

Silence falls upon the two of you. It’s heavy with the half-truths that were just revealed. Heavy with the underlying tones that are telling you Eddie still cares, and telling him that so do you — more than either of you were willing to admit back then, and even less now.

And there’s definitely feelings there. They bubbled up the second you laid your eyes on him again and as your few days together passed without a major blowout, they only grew stronger — something you explained to Holly, who said that Eddie was so unlike you, it only made sense to feel something towards him. Love him, even.

Perhaps the hurt was worth it.

“Oh, fuck.”

“What?” Eddie’s brows string together as you momentarily glance at your feet before settling your gaze back on the rockstar.

“Guess we were never supposed to do this right.”

“What?” Eddie asks again.

“You said that to me. Back in LA after that picture of us was leaked to the press, remember?”

“Vaguely,” he answers.

“What if you were right?” You ask, tone a little quieter than seconds prior.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I’m not sure I’m following.”

Decided on your next move, in what you want to happen, you take a step towards the Corroded Coffin frontman so that the tips of your heels are touching his loosely tied Converse. You then place a hand on his chest, albeit hesitantly, and Eddie inhales a sharp breath (loud enough for you to hear).

“What if all of this, everything that happened between us, is because we were never meant to do this right in the first place, Eds?” 

A timid smile circles your lips as the question you asked settles in the air. Loaded full of uncertainty for the future and everything that time ahead holds for the two of you. Your Nana would say that a person of your stature shouldn’t give into uncertainty, something that in Eddie’s case was often repeated by Marianne. Everything is always meticulously planned. No room for error because uncertainty leads to mistakes and those are a nightmare for your respective PR teams. Unfortunately for those teams, uncertainty is what drew you to each other in the first place.

That, and insane fucking attraction.

“I did come here because I regret my decision,” he says while you say, “I miss you.” Both come out at the same time. Mumbled, jumbled together. It registers though.

Without giving it a second thought, Eddie dips his head lower while his hands reach for your face, ring-clad fingers now holding your cheeks. In that same breath, his lips crash against yours in a yearning kiss — one that is fuelled by months of pent up tension and a desire you both shared since your first meeting back in August of ‘92.

It's a dance of fire. One that is burning bigger and brighter with every second his mouth is attached to yours. Dangerous, would be a good word to describe this moment, but the line has been crossed yet again and since there’s definitely no going back now, your fingers tangle themselves in his brown locks as you push your body closer. Eddie also gets braver. He bites down on your bottom lip and when you gasp ever so softly, the rockstar slides his tongue in with ease.

You feel elated. This is exactly what you’ve been missing and by the way Eddie’s tongue twirls within your mouth, hands squishing your face, afraid to let go, you know it’s what he’s been missing too.

It’s destructive, for sure. But the hurt is worth it. You know that now. You feel it. Every single fibre of your being grows more and more alive as Eddie presses into you further, as he caresses your skin with so much tenderness. And you’re beyond cloud nine. Beyond touching heaven. It’s destructive, but it’s bliss.

“If we keep kissing like this,” he whispers against your lips, forehead pressing against yours, “I’m afraid I won’t be able to contain myself.”

“Who says you have to?”

Eddie groans against your jawline before continuing to trail soft pecks along your skin until he reaches your ear, biting it gently.

“We should probably talk about what this means,” he says, but you just shake your head. “‘Cause friends don’t kiss like that, sweetheart.”

“I don’t care about that now, Eds.” You affirm, sure of what you want. Sure that you don’t ever want to forget him or move on. He is a part of you, forever. “I just want you.”

And with that your lips finds his again.

The kiss is feverish, messy. You’re tugging at each other’s clothes, desperately trying to get them out of the way as fast as possible. In an attempt to be even closer, propelled by an indescribable urge, Eddie shifts your positions so that his back is the one to the room, you’re by the wall, and mere seconds later, your back is pressed firmly against his chest.

His strong hands send shivers through your body as they make their way down until they reach your panties, skirt long disregarded, a garment on the floor. He no longer hesitates about what this means, ripping the material down before his feet are kicking your legs apart. Ring-clad fingers slide along the curve of your ass, kneading the flesh, desperate to feel you. All of you. And as one hand works to unzip his pants, the other works its way to your wet entrance, feeling along your slit.

“Please, please…” The excitement causes you to grow warm and moist in his hand.

He can’t contain himself. Removing his hand in a rapid manner, he pushes his cock inside of your starved pussy. You close your eyes at the contact and Eddie begins to fuck you, hard. Rhythm picks up rapidly and you’re clenching around him in a matter of minutes, lower muscles seizing at the contact they’ve long forgotten, but were now more than pleasantly reminded of. 

“God,” he groans, “I fucking missed you.”

The moan that escapes your lips is nothing short of pornographic. It’s a direct response to his words, as well as his actions. He’s pounding into you relentlessly. There’s no time for pleasantries or any sort of softness. This is all about fulfilling a need-based desire and you’re more than willing to comply, high on his voice when he praises “Fuck, baby”, and “You’re doing so good for me, pretty girl.”

When you feel his hands grip your hips, you moan his name. Loud, pathetic. Undone. The rockstar begins to bounce you against him. Your knees weaken and you fall back onto him, head now resting on his shoulder, losing yourself completely in the moment and the pure ecstasy that you’re feeling. The pleasure is almost too much for you.

“Eddie, I’m so close,” you whisper, looking up at him through your lashes. 

The Corroded Coffin frontman captures your mouth with his. Short, but far from sweet is the kiss. Hungry and devilish. He bites your bottom lip as he pulls away, drawing just a prick of blood.

“Let go for me, baby.” 

When you do, obeying his request, your whole body shivers harshly in his embrace. Eddie keeps going, only his pace has slowed. He’s whispering sweet-nothings into your ear, continuously praising you for being his good girl, and you promise yourself that no matter what happens next, you’re going to be that forever. 

The high soon ends and Eddie pushes you forward gently. You then feel the rockstar’s cock leave you, warm cum spurting over your ass without warning. You’re delighting in the feeling of his juices on your skin. He delights in it too, trailing his fingers over your rear until you turn around to face him.

There’s a smile on your face. Devious, yet benevolent.

Yes, Eddie thinks, Stevie Nicks was definitely right. ‘You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you.’ Not like he’d ever want to anyway.

thank you for reading! really appreciate the endless & continuous support!

celebrity skin. masterlist

& tagging some cool ppl that expressed interest: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie, @spideyanakin-interacts , @rogers-sweatbands , @mimsie95 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @ohmeg - (if your user is crossed out, it means the tag isn’t working. pls check you’ve enabled tagging in your settings)

[cipheramnesia]

a story by @rox-and-prose and @cipheramnesia

Part 8: Vigil

"I am not prone to long speeches," Vanya Steyr had said, welcoming the incoming new hires to the G1 Major Treaty Enforcement Central orientation day. Maryam had thought they seemed very impressive, perhaps evem dangerous.

"You will learn all the information you need to start your jobs here. You will not learn one right way to do your jobs until you are in the middle of them." They had stood at the front of a sizable auditorium, and had not used any amplification. Maryam remembered even after the subsequent weeks of stultifying bureaucratic form memorization and procedural filing specific to Major Treaties, the departments, grades, fire safety, system safety, and so on.

Years of experience, climbing the ranks, passing pilot exams and system plotting. All of it each time seemed like the most information she could hope to retain, Vanya stuck with her. "When you are doing this work, at all levels," they said, "remember why we have major treaties. They are to protect us, earth and her civilization, wherever we may find ourselves. We protect ourselves from destroying ourselves, because it is our nature."

That was the most of Vany Steyr she had ever seen outside of the odd sysnet photo or short interview up until they took a personal interest in the Charybdis WMD case. Following Steyr's system jumps in the Marzanna, a ship that by what few specs she'd had the chance to glimpse was perhaps hundreds or thousands of times more dangerous than any WMD case she'd worked or reviewed, she worried over "it is our nature."

Maryam had always operated with the consideration that it was in the nature of everyone from earth civilization to protect themselves. This idea had given her comfort and guidance in her cases and the vast organized network of central bureaucracy. The scope of civilization, she sometimes pretended, was possible to see as one vastly extended process to keep its many inhabitants or societies safe. It drove fear and love and hate and hope and all those things.

She knew it was an oversimplification, but it gave her a place to start when she wasn't sure. The one possibility she'd never entertained until now was that Steyr had never meant it was in the nature of civilization to protect itself.

Trevor remained intensely focused in pulling the Lev Nitoburg off the map for the Marzanna's deep spacers. Maryam had no idea what was ever going on with the woman. Serah looked worried, maybe a little bit pale. It had been one thing to figure out Kan was spying for the boss, quite another to decide the boss was violating the most basic rule in civilation, while it happened right in front of their eyes.

Minutes ticked away between the system resolutions. Serah caught Maryam looking and gave a sick smile. She got up and went back to Serah, crouching by her chair. "Serah," she said.

"Hey," Serah said.

"There is no need worry so dearly," Maryam said. "This is the type of case we have all the time. It is nothing, a piece of cake."

"You're awful at lying."

"I am. But you have seen more of the Marzanna specifications than myself. Would you consider it falling within regulations? Would the Lev Nitoburg?"

"No... and... it's pushing it, toeing the letter of the treaty..."

"So it goes," Maryam said. "I only know I am of the belief that we owe it to our civilization to safeguard the treaty against WMD's, even if they are of our own invention."

"You're probably right." Serah looked at her screen. "Did you know that thing can project an artificial stellar gravity well?"

"I had some sense but I did not realize the extent of it."

"It could probably pull some planets apart. Maybe even destroy a sun, if you used it right." Serah's face was grim.

Maryam took one of Serah's hands in two of hers. Serah squeezed. "We are making the right choice." She squeezed back.

"We gotta be. Nothing but the right choice could ever feel this dumb."

[gguk-n]

Royal Heart (Crown Prince! Jungkook x Maid!Reader)

Happy Birthday to Jungkook!!

Summary- Falling in love is a luxury for Y/N. And Jungkook has too many responsibilities to be a hopeless romantic.

Jungkook was the crown prince of his kingdom set to take over as the King. His life was predetermined since the day he was born. Jungkook was good in everything he touched; archery, horse riding, sword fight, you name it. He was called the Golden Prince. He was loved by all the Kingdom's people. But Jungkook lacked one thing, love. He was a hopeless romantic and yearned for the love he read about in all the romance books he would steal and read. He hoped to find the woman of his dreams some day.

The woman of his dreams came in the form of his chamber maid, Y/N. A young, lively, hard working woman who worked as a baker's apprentice until she took up a job at the palace due to financial difficulty. She hoped to help her family and being employed at the palace meant a fixed and steady income for life. She too used to hope for love but circumstances made her lose her belief in love. She worked her way from the kitchen and cleaning the palace until she was informed that Prince Jungkook's chamber maid was getting old and couldn't work like she used to and Y/N was supposed to take over. Her predecessor was next to her as they opened the curtains and called out to the Prince to wake him from his slumber. Jungkook groggily rolled around in his bed till his eyes opened to the bright light shining in from the window. Jungkook was ready to fall back sleep when his eyes met hers. "Who are you?" he asked, his interest piqued. "Your highness, this is Y/N. She'll be taking over my duties from now on. I'll be around to teach her the ropes for a while, so please be understanding." her predecessor said while bowing her head. Jungkook got off the bed and wrapped his robe around him. "I'm used to how you do things, I hope there will be a smooth transition" he said while walking off to the bathroom. "Yes, your highness" her predecessor replied while following him. They had prepared the bath and once Jungkook was done, they helped him dress.

Y/N started to adjust well to her new role. Jungkook also seemed to enjoy the company of someone close to his age rather than his grandmother's age who babied him. You would find the both of them discussing the most random things when Jungkook returned from his lessons. Being good at anything and everything meant praises but Jungkook didn't realise how much he enjoyed being praised until Y/N praised him after his archery, begging him to teach her. Jungkook's chest swelled as he heard praises dropping from her lips; the first time since she started working as his chamber maid. From the responsibility of making sure Jungkook's room was clean and bath ready, she ended up following him around like his shadow much to his request. Her responsibilities had just increased and so had her affinity to Jungkook. She was the one getting his clothes ready and making sure he was dressed for the day. By any standard, Jungkook was attractive and she would have to be blind to disagree with it.

Y/N found herself looking at Jungkook a little longer than usual. The light reflected off his sweaty face after a horse riding session or the sweat dripped down his forehead after archery; his clothes were sweaty and stuck to him, accentuating his toned figure. He was well liked among the princesses of the neighbouring kingdoms when they would visit. They would attach themselves to Jungkook so as to keep his attention while holding onto his forearm. But Jungkook's attention was on another woman; dressed more modestly and not adorned in silks and jewellery. He would always find a smile on her face no matter the situation. She encouraged him and maybe sometimes he would talk to her about his deep dark secrets or fears. She understood him and didn't judge him for complaining even though he was the crown prince.

The first time Jungkook realised he liked her was when they were laughing and her laughter made everything lighter. The fact that he loved her was cemented when she hugged him after a long talk with his father, the King who was keen on marrying him of to the neighbouring Princess in hopes of expanding the kingdom. She sat there with her arms wrapped around him, consoling him. His relation with his parents wasn't the best but the constant pressures of being the Prince were getting to him. He wished to run away. And when he pulled away, he looked into her eyes momentarily before kissing her. It was as if he had waited all this time for this exact moment. His arms now rested on her waist and hers were cupping his cheeks. He pulled away to look into her eyes, "I love you, Y/N" he said. She smiled and whispered "I love you too, your royal highness" "Call me Jungkook, my love" he said.

Y/N had realised she loved him when he would be entertaining the princesses and a pang of jealousy would rip through her chest and make it difficult for her breathe. She hated that they could sit with him as his equal and talk to him about their day. She couldn't dare tell him about hers. It wasn't like Jungkook wouldn't let her, she just didn't feel comfortable to do so. Until, Jungkook asked her on one of her hardest day, how her day was and she broke down. He consoled her even gifted her silks and food to comfort her. She knew then that she loved him. He made butterflies erupt in her stomach and she couldn't explain it any other way.

Soon after their love confession, you could see them exchanging glances. A small smile graces his features when he would look at her. In the dead of the night when the whole castle was asleep, Y/N would be in Jungkook's bed as they explored each other and made promises of a future together. "I'm gonna make you Queen when I'm King" he mumbled against her neck as he trailed kisses along her shoulder. "I can't wait for that day" she whispered bringing him to her lips. "I love you, my prince charming" she said, a nickname she gave. "And I love you my future queen."

Their love was short lived since Jungkook was sent off to fight in a war against another Kingdom trying to conquer his Kingdom. Y/N would slip into his room when he was gone to feel closer to him. Others had started to talk, they used to talk before too but now it had become more obvious. Her duties didn't lie in the Prince's chamber right now and the fact that she would come out from his room in the wee hours of the night wasn't very well received. The other maids had started to whisper. The Queen had heard the rumours but they were confirmed when Jungkook returned and she found them arm in arm kissing. She couldn't have this, a lowly maid seducing her only son.

She quickly called for all of the most eligible maidens to come to the Palace and have Jungkook pick one of them. She watched her son reject the proposal, "If you do not do as I say, I shall behead the lowly maid" she bellowed. Jungkook looked shocked, "You know" he stammered. "Yes, now if you do not want her to lose her life or her job, you will do as I say." And Jungkook did exactly that. Y/N watched Jungkook dance along with his future wife as the King and Queen announced their union. Was everything he said a lie? Did he ever love her? She thought as tears burned her eyes. She watched them make small talk and laugh along.

Jungkook tried to reassure her that this meant nothing but she couldn't believe it. In no time, Jungkook and the Princess were married and she was made to stand outside the door to keep watch on the Queen's orders. She heard it all, Jungkook consummating his marriage. It broke her, she was still their chamber maid. The days after their marriage were hell, she wanted to run away. That's when she caught him a few days before she had decided to leave, it was confirmed that the Princess was with child and would be giving birth to the next heir. She couldn't take this anymore, watching her love live a fulfilled life while she suffered in silence. "Your royal highness, congratulations on the baby. I must say you are a very good actor. You had be fooled there for a minute." she stuttered while a lump formed in my throat. "Y/N, it is not like that" he said trying to hold her face. She moved back, "I'm sorry your highness, but you are a married man and a father to be. I was a fool so I must apologise" she cried. "Please, I love you so much" he cried. "I cannot believe that and I cannot watch you two anymore. I do not think my heart can take it. I wish you all the best, Jungkook" she said while leaving.

She was never seen after. Jungkook spent the rest of his time in search of her, his marriage fell apart and so did the kingdom. He regretted ever letting her walk away.

[sweetsugarcakes]

Hi! I liked the last one so much I thought I might just request, like, another one??

An Azula x gn reader again. So, Azula and reader are childhood friends, and reader is the exact opposite of her. They are kind, compassionate and believe in the good of people. And that belief is the only thing that kept reader from deserting Azula even when she turned more cruel over time; they hope that Azula will find her good side some time. Azula is very dependant on reader's friendship as it's one of the only ones she's got, and over time she has developed some more serious feelings, but she doesn't tell reader. However, at one point, probably after a battle, it's enough. Reader can't take Azula's cruelty anymore and, under tears, tell Azula how much they detest her cruelty and want her to change her ways and that they know she has good inside of her, because (drumroll) they have loved her for years but think they will have to leave her once and for all if she can't change. Of course, Azula is devastated. She is happy her feelings are mutual but still, there is drama because of reader's accusations and threat of leaving.

Again, a happy end would be phenomenal.

This is a long ask! I hope you like this one too!

Have a great time :))

hii I’m so glad you enjoyed the other one :)

I love this scenario I’ll totally write it❤️

Azula x gn! reader

How much you saw the good in people, even if they were a bad person. You know there must be a reason why they are the way they are. Ever since you were kids you, Ty lee, Mai Zuko and Azula were all friends. At first you noticed in the small cracks of Azula you saw her a bit mean towards the group. She pushed Ty lee when she did an amazing cartwheel instead of her. She almost set Mai on fire for Zuko to save her. You noticed but brushed them off because she wasn’t so bad. But she’ll get better you hoped.

You also noticed that she never was that mean to you. Sure she’ll give you attitude and make snarky comments at you but you definitely got special treatment among the others. You remember having that conversation with her when you were little.

“[Name], promise you’ll never leave my side? I feel that you’re the only one that understands me.” Azula grinned as she looked at her used to be innocent face.

Your little self smiled widely and nod. “I promise Azula I’ll never leave your side!”

So…you never left her side which meant you saw what she had done. When she tricked her uncle and her brother. Almost burning Ty lee alive and forcing her to join her team. Making Mai abandon her baby brother. Even more things which involved her trying to catch the Avatar. But you stood by it all still thinking “She’s going to be good.”

You even thought that when she burned down innocent peoples villages. You saw how miserable the nations had been because of her doings. Not only the nations but Mai and Ty lee were as well. You can tell by the looks of their eyes, they don’t want to do this. They were so scared to stand up to her. You wanted the Avatar to restore the peace between nations and maybe Azula would be better.

One day, at the boiling rock Mai betrayed Azula by saving Zuko. You watched whole scene unfold with Ty lee. Before the two were about to fight each other, Ty lee chi blocked Azula making her fall. Ty lee looked at you, “Come on [Name].” She stuck her hand out as you hesitated and looked at Azula at the floor . You called the guards over to take both Mai and Ty lee away. The two girl were shocked as you chose Azula over your freedom. You helped up Azula since she was still paralyzed. You looked at as she smiled at you. “I know you’ll pick the right choice” hee eyes were filled with love for you and you had it too. She made the guards take Mai and Ty lee away to be in prison.

You thought about how she was ready to kill Mai and make her two best friends rot in the cell. You and Azula come back from trying to catch Aang as it failed but in the process, Azula had hurt other people, you saw children hurt and crying. You saw their parents crying as well or they were deceased from her ordering the soldiers to get information from them and if they didn’t comply well…

Your head was pounding and your hands were shaking you don’t know what to do. You were holding back from crying. Azula still mad about Mai and Ty lee but having you by her side was everything she needed anyway. You two were back at the palace as you finally spoke up…

“Azula I-i can’t do this…” you muttered out. Azula turned to you.

“What?!” She shouts and confused.

“I can’t do this. I’m can’t be by your side. T-this is too much…” you looked down.

“What are you talking about your staying with me! You promised me you’ll always be by my side [Name]! Why are you doing this?! You’re going to be a traitor just like them huh?” Azula was angry you can tell but then stunned seeing you crying and glaring at her.

“I’m done Azula. I did promise but I saw the good in you. I thought everyday that you’ll change into a good person. But seeing you doing these horrific things… it’s awful but I still stayed because I loved you for years. I-I still love you but I can’t if you’re going to be like this. T-this is just cruel…I’m sorry if you can’t change…I don’t think I wanna be by your side ever again.” You saw her panting hard trying to take all this in. She couldn’t believe you loved her and she never noticed. She gritted her teeth about to attack you but she hesitated. Her love for you was too much to hurt you. She just mumbled “Get out! Get out!” You were stunned as she told you get out. You nod as you left. The woman you loved pushed you away you know she didn’t mean it but you needed to do what you said…you knew it was the right thing to do.

You were nearby where Azula’s coronation was being held you saw how horrible she looked. Her hair cut uneven and her makeup smeared a little. You couldn’t help feel guilty about you making her crazy. You then saw the fight with Zuko and Katara with Azula. You saw Azula getting defeated by Katara as you saw her balling as blue fire came out of her mouth. You couldn’t hold back anymore you ran fast to Azula as Zuko and Katara watched you. You hugged her. “Azula please…” you whispered into her ear as you felt her body all hot as she was surprised you were here.

“[N-name]…Please [Name] don’t leave me! I’ll change! I’ll change for you! I love you too! Please just don’t leave my side! I’m sorry” She said between sobs as she just cried harder and clung on to your clothing tight. She didn’t want you to let go. “I promise Azula I won’t leave you again. I’ll be there to help you.” You whisper as cupped the back of her head to make her let it all out. Azula then spoke into your shoulder. “I’ll be good. I have you. I love you [Name].” She said still sobbing. You pulled away for her a little still close as you cup her cheek. “I knew you would turn to be good. I love you too.”

and they lived happily ever after and Azula got her redemption and didn’t go to an insane asylum bc reader was there for her🤭

I hope you enjoyed this one. sorry making this a bit angsty😭 you also have a great day!! <33