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[bronzealchemy]

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

⋆. 𐙚˚ you dream of caleb and the two of you fuck talk it out

you were dreaming. because only in your dream you could see him again. his violet expressive eyes. the freckles on his nose. his smell like home. your heart nearly leaped out of your chest when you saw him.

„caleb“, you breathed. your throat felt sore.  

„pipsqueak.“ it was the only thing he said, before you pulled your arms around his neck and held him close, inhaling deeply. this dream was so fucking realistic. he smelled just like he had in reality. he felt like that, too. the hard planes of his chest. the soft skin of his neck. his broad shoulders under your fingertips. 

„why did you leave me?“, you whispered, tears prickling in your eyes. you didn’t want to let them run, but it was unstoppable. you shook in his arms, while your cheeks got wet. slowly you released your grip on his neck to look into his face. and what you found, let your heart skip a beat. 

his eyes were empty. as if there was a trigger pulled that switched everything off.

„it didn’t take you long to forget me“, he said flatly. his voice was like his eyes – devoid of any feeling. 

„that’s not true!“ you grabbed his face, getting on your knees on the bed to directly look into them, to find that spark that was just caleb. „I almost died with you that day. don’t ever think I forgot you. don’t you ever think that there was a day my soul didn’t break, because you weren’t there.“ 

he lifted his eyes, a dark and glooming look took over them. „you let him in.“

your throat felt suddenly dry. „I …“ you couldn’t finish the sentence. because what were you going to say? that you didn’t let somebody else in your life? you both knew that that was a lie. because gideon was there. you let him into your life and into your bed. the two of you only survived the last year, because you had each other. but you also couldn’t tell caleb that. besides … what kind of stupid dream was this? 

why were you wasting your time talking about another man, when caleb was right here?

you didn’t hesitate a second longer. „I don’t want to talk about him“, you said, leaning your forehead against his, closing your eyes. „I only want you right now.“

calebs breath hitched. when you came closer, he grabbed your arms. hard. „you let him in. you let him touch you.“

„yes I did“, you shot back. „because you weren’t fucking there!“ 

he blinked. slowly, the life returned to his expression. a muscle in his jaw twitched. next thing you knew, he buried his hand in your hair and pulled your head back. „fuck this“, he said. then his mouth collided with yours.

you couldn’t breathe. you couldn’t grasp a single thought.

calebs mouth was on yours. dream or not – his body was on yours, his tongue danced with yours, and your body was in complete harmony with his. 

„I missed this“, you whispered into his mouth. 

he bit your lip hard enough to almost draw blood. „didn’t look like it.“ he licked the place he had bitten into and the sweet pain subsided.

„let me feel you“, you begged, when he put his knee between your legs and hit the exact spot that was aching. 

„I don’t think you have been a good enough girl for that.“ his words danced over the skin of your neck, then he bit you again and you moaned when his tongue was on your skin again, while his knee stopped the movement. 

„don’t stop“, you whined.

he looked up at you through thick lashes, slowly shaking his head. „only good girls get rewards, pipsqueak.“ 

this dream version of caleb was so incredibly different from the man you lost all those months ago. he was harsh, almost brutal in the way he withheld you the pleasure you so desperately needed. 

„what do I need to do?“, you inquired, raising yourself up on your elbows. „do you want me to get to my knees? to beg for it?“

his cheeks were flushed, but he nodded. „yes.“

at first you thought he was joking. caleb never was the kind of man who made you beg for anything. but maybe your subconscious wanted to tell you something.

„fine“, you said, your voice sounding slightly out of breath. then you got up from the bed and on your knees, looking up at him. „please, caleb“, you whispered. 

he raised his hand, slowly grazing your bottom lip with his thumb. your breathing hitched at the deliberate touch. „again.“

„I need you. please, caleb.“

„tell me exactly what you need.“ he tilted his head, his gaze unyielding.

your cheeks were feeling hot. „I need you inside me.“

„me? inside you?“, he repeated and you nodded, still on your knees. „what exactly do you need, honey? my fingers? my tongue?“

„your cock.“ the words came out raspy and out of breath. he was still hovering over you, grazing your lip so soft you wished for him to bite you again.

you put your hands on his thighs, slowly stroking them up and down. his adams apple bobbed. that was the first real reaction he showed. 

„you want my cock?“

you nodded frantically. „yes. and if you make me beg one more time, I’ll hurt you.“ 

the corners of his mouth went up a little. „if you want my cock – take it.“

you blinked. he stayed in the exact same position, his gaze almost challenging. and you always were up for a challenge. in the blink of an eye, you tore at his belt, opening his black pants, freeing his length, greedily taking it into your hands. 

„can I?“, you asked hoarse. one nod was the only thing you needed. with your eyes still on caleb, you licked a trail over his hard length. again. and a third time, even slower, more deliberate than before.

„stop teasing me“, he snarled. 

„why?“, you shot back. „that’s exactly what you just did.“

„pipsqueak.“ there was a warning in his voice. „if you keep doing that, I’ll …“

you sucked him so deeply into your mouth, his tip hit the back of your throat while you kept looking up at him. he pulled his head back and let out a curse under his breath. then you really started working him with your mouth and both your hands, and it didn’t take long for his hard demeanor to dissolve and make way for a whimper. fuck, how you missed that sound and the feeling of him inside you. you sucked on the soft spot just under his tip and caleb cursed once more.

„don’t do that again, or it’ll be over sooner than we both want.“ 

you always loved teasing him, so you did exactly that.

before you knew what was happening, he was on you, in the middle of the bedroom floor, ripping your panties to shreds. when he touched you down there, you moaned. he pulled his fingers to his mouth and licked the wetness from them. „I think you’re wet enough. don’t you?“ 

„fuck, yes.“ you pulled him closer.

he entered you slowly, only giving you his tip. you tried to pull him closer, but he was stronger than you. „nuh uh, honey.“ 

„more“, you whined. 

„why?“ he pulled out of you, then entered back inside, again with only his tip. „is this not enough?“

„this is torture.“

he let out a breathy laugh. „you know nothing about torture.“ then, without a warning, he pressed himself inside you to the hilt. you let out a scream. „torture is“, he said through gritted teeth, accentuating his words with hard thrusts. „to see“, another thrust, „the woman you love“, he hit your sweet spot and you panted, „fuck your best friend.“

he was punishing you with his cock, fucking you with hard, controlled thrusts that made you see stars. 

„I’m sorry“, you whined. „I’m so sorry, caleb.“

„I“, thrust, „won’t“, thrust, „accept“, thrust „your“, thrust, „excuses.“ 

you clawed at his back, arching your own, and taking this punishment with everything you had. you were so near to your release, you could almost taste it. 

„I belong to you“, you screamed.

„good.“ caleb gripped your hair again, forcing you to look inside his eyes full of desperation. „because my soul is eternally yours. and when you fucked him, you broke something inside me.“ he was still going in his rapid pace, but you saw the shimmer in his eyes. you stroked his cheek, pushed the hair out of his forehead. 

„I only ever belonged to you“, you whispered, while tears fell – from your eyes and his. 

caleb closed his eyes, took one of your legs and gripped it hard, while he pounded into you. „again, pipsqueak.“

„I belong to you. always“, you repeated, your voice laced with lust. the tension rose to unknown heights, and you let out a scream, when the orgasm washed over you. caleb followed you shortly after, biting down on the crook of your neck, then cursing and then moaning your name. you held him while he was still pulsing inside you. 

this was a dream. it just had to be. you couldn’t imagine what you would do if it weren’t. 

because for a split second, when you swore to caleb you belonged to him, your mind had wandered to gideon. 

[artist-issues]

@magicmumu2 thank you for actually taking something from the original movie as evidence for the actual conversation we’re having, genuinely. That’s what I’m asking people to do, and so far, you’re the only one who’s done it (not the second person responding to me.)

To your point:

The manager who made the decision to fire Nani is just as Hawaiian as Nani is, and he fired her because her dog attacked a guest. Nani calls it a “stupid, fakey luau” because she’s mad that she’s getting fired, with no indication that she dislikes the job because it’s an insult to her culture anywhere in the rest of the scene.

They had an opportunity to show “the kid at Table 3” who was throwing poi, and show him to be a little gremlin of a tourist, and imply that white colonists or tourists are part of what makes Nani’s life hard. But they didn’t show that. Because it’s not the focus of any of the scenes.

The only shot that reveals any of the rest of the patrons of this Luau is one while David is fire dancing (which, by the way, there’s an entire shot devoted to him smiling around a mouthful of incendiary liquid, enjoying the show he’s about to wow them with. Not insulted that they paid to watch a display of a traditional fire dance, probably Siva Afi or something like it from the way the artists drew the type of knife/torch he’s holding.) and the tourists were not drawn carefully—you can see that the large bald white guy is duplicated and flipped with a different shirt pattern, and so is the woman seated behind him, on either side of the shot. If the artists wanted to make a statement about the kind of awful patrons that come to a “fakey luau,” they would’ve taken more care drawing them. They wouldn’t have slightly blurred out the only shot where the design of the luau is seen in full, and the kind of people who make such a luau possible, the touristy-patrons, were visible. Right?

Whereas when Disney wants to draw a crowd that is awful, and exploits others because they’re different, they do it with establishing shots like this:

This is from Hunchback of Notre Dame. In the first screenshot you can see the character’s faces close enough to read expressions, which are laughing and cruel. In Lilo & Stitch, no time is taken to create an environment of offense or hostility in the luau.

In the second screenshot, you can’t tell because it’s a screenshot, but it’s a Dutch Angle, where the camera is tilting to convey that something is terribly wrong like they do in horror films, and again, you can actually read the faces of the cruel crowd in an environment that is hostile to Quasimodo. And then obviously in the second screenshot the two guys tormenting Quasimodo have enough camera-focus on them to show their evil expressions, but I also thought it was a nice touch that they gave them hats and backlit them so that their eyes were in dark shadow, making them look more ominous.

None of that time and care was put into creating an environment or backdrop of racism, hostility, or fakeness in the luau scene. Nothing looks cheaply made. David doesn’t look unhappy performing. Nani doesn’t look like she hates the job (just a regular dislike of a rowdy customer who’s throwing a traditional Hawaiian dish, by the way) until she’s fired, and then she responds that way to communicate she’s an 18 year-old who just lost her job in an already-tense situation, and that’s how any young distraught woman would try to save-face in that situation.

Also, the two guys sitting in the front row to the left of David are an Easter egg of the directors, Dean Deblois and Chris Sanders.

If the directors of the movie wanted to portray the luau as fake, exploitative, and despised by the main characters, why would they draw themselves in the front row happily applauding David’s performance?

Thank you gain for making n actual point. I appreciate it. Just because it didn’t convince me doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it or it wasn’t a good point to bring up; when I mull the idea of “is Lilo & Stitch about racism” over, it is true that that was the only line in the movie that presented itself to my brain (outside of the deleted scenes) as a possibility.

That’s It.

I’m tired of seeing everyone repeat the same four points: “1) Nani gives Lilo to the state! 2) Hawaii has a better marine biology program than San Fransisco! 3) Jumba doesn’t get redeemed! 4) Pleakley’s not wearing a dress!”

Those are not the only things that were bad about this remake. You could easily tell it was going to be all that and more beforehand, but most people’s reaction to the trailer was “it’s surprisingly good!” and now they’re acting all surprised. If you didn’t see this coming, enough to purchase a ticket, you’re part of the problem and you don’t get the original movie any more than the people who made this remake did.

So I’m done being quiet, this is the Lilo & Stitch 2025 Takedown Post.

And as usual the only good thing about an attempted-remake is that it gives people a reason to think about what made the original so good.

Let’s go in order. But just scroll down to the Heading you Care About if you don’t want to read all this.

1. Cobra Bubbles

In this movie, Cobra Bubbles is a secret agent hunting for aliens and they have a new character take his place as the state social worker.

The Problem They Were Trying to Solve With this Change: “We shouldn’t have a black man or a government worker feel like an insensitive antagonist to Lilo’s family.”

That’s a stupid surface-level one-dimensional misread of the character from the original…and it wouldn’t have been hard, at all, for a child to explain to the 2025 filmmakers that Cobra is not an insensitive antagonist in the original.

Cobra Bubbles is not insensitive and he is not in any way portrayed as a bad guy in the original. Nani sees him that way, Nani sees him as antagonistic, because he’s the representation of Lilo being taken away.

But Nani is wrong about him and learns that she is wrong about him by the end of the movie.

Can we please make a list?

Cobra’s first interaction with the caretaker of the child he was being sent to protect was that she ran out into the road, yelled at a complete stranger, and dented his car.

Then he found her locked out of the home and threatening the child inside with a hammer in her hand.

Then he found out the stove was on while she was out, and she’d left a 7 year-old alone.

The 7 year-old made comments about being disciplined with bricks and a pillow case.

The 7 year-old looks like she might be more than a little emotionally unbalanced because she’s figuring out how to put voodoo spells on her friends to punish them.

He still gave that pair of sisters three days to straighten the ship. When in actuality, in 2002, under HRS §587-73, (don’t play with me) the social worker would’ve been well within his rights to remove the child from the home right then. But instead he gives her three days to fix it. THEN

The 18 year-old loses her job.

The family gets a “dog” who he is implied to know is an alien, right off the bat.

The alien is violent and wreaks havoc across town.

The 7 year-old almost drowns while they surf instead of find a job.

He lets the child and caretaker have one more night together to say goodbye, but when he’s on the way to get her he gets a call that she’s being attacked by aliens, hears a chainsaw, and finds the house on fire.

Do you understand what I’m saying.

Cobra Bubbles had NO BUSINESS being as BIG A SOFTIE AS HE WAS for all of the original movie. He was not only well within his legal rights to take Lilo away from Nani immediately, but he was actually required by law, it was his DUTY, to remove her immediately. But he didn’t do that. Why?

Now listen to me very carefully.

Lilo and Stitch is a movie about how “Family chooses to love and commit to one another selflessly, no matter what the other person can do for them or how hard they make it.” The fancy way they say it is just “Ohana means family: family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten.”

Did you catch that? “No matter how hard they make it.”

Cobra Bubbles was a CIA agent before this. A CIA agent who saved the planet, by doing what? Convincing an alien race to leave them alone. Oh, he didn’t fight them off? No. How? He “convinced” them? He talked it out? Sounds like a pretty compassionate guy, for all his tough exterior. How did he do that?

He could’ve picked any animal that’s actually endangered. The filmmakers chose to make him the guy who convinced aliens to value mosquitos.

MOSQUITOS. Creatures that give nothing, only take. Ugly little bloodsucking monsters. That’s the creature he convinced them to care about enough to save the planet.

NOW do you have any trouble understanding why this is the specific social worker who would give an alien-infested dumpster fire of a dangerous home a chance when two sisters are about to be torn apart?

Do you see that Cobra is just another example of the grace that the movie is always talking about? The love that transforms someone from bad to good simply because it refuses to give up even when it gets nothing out of it? I’m repeating myself because I want you to see why he was a well-done character who NEEDED NO CHANGE.

Cobra Bubbles’ character is not an insensitive monster who doesn’t care who his actions hurt as long as he gets the job done. But you know who that does sound like?

2. Gantu

Gantu is not in the remake at all.

The Problem They Were Trying to Solve With This Change: “It’s going to cost us upwards of 1.5 millions of dollars to design, sculpt, rig, animate, and render a character this big in addition to finding a suitable voice actor to play the part.”

This is a really dumb choice for several reasons. A. Without Gantu, there is no “stakes-raiser” to Lilo and Nani’s story. The movie has no climax without him. For the first and second acts of the movie, it’s about a grieving pair of girls trying to prove themselves to a social worker while the story-equivalent of Beethoven the Destructive St. Bernard wacky Jumba & Pleakley antics get in their way. But when a 40-foot tall alien stomps into their lives and abducts Lilo & Stitch in a spaceship that careens around the island during an explosive sky-chase scene, now you have a high-octane, somebody-could-die climax.

B. Without Gantu, Stitch looks weaker. The climax gave Stitch a reason to come out of the wackadoo puppy he’s been posing as and suddenly remind everybody that he’s a lethal weapon who can survive thousand-foot drops, lava, and astronomic explosions—and a giant alien’s Thanos-dwarfing fist. Take him out and who do we have as a match for Stitch to go up against, even for a moment, and prove how much he’s changed to be willing to risk his freedom and fight?

C. Without Gantu you have no villain to reflect that STITCH is no longer a villain. (So they substituted Jumba.)

But the reason this character is really worth millions is, again, the theme.

I told you Cobra Bubbles was a character who did not put “duty” or even “convenience” or “position” over the real lives of Lilo and Nani. He saw that there was love there, and in his own way, he gave it a chance. And even when he chose to take Lilo away, he did it carefully; he gave them time to say goodbye.

GANTU IS THE OPPOSITE OF COBRA BUBBLES.

Gantu is the insensitive, uncaring, unyielding Captain whose commitment to duty turns into rage and cruelty. Not Cobra.

Nani thinks Cobra is walking in a threatening to tear apart their family in a display of government judgement. But that’s what Gantu literally does.

His first reaction to Stitch is to call for his destruction. Without even waiting to see if “it can be reasoned with” like the Grand Councilwoman suggests. He’s merciless. He mocks Stitch when Stitch is captive. And he knows that he caught Lilo, a human, along with him. He doesn’t care. He even suggests that Stitch eat her as a snack.

There are only two other characters who laugh at others’ misfortune in the movie. One is Stitch, the original villain. Then love changes him. The other is Jumba, who made Stitch. Then love changes him. But Gantu never gets changed. He’s only concerned with his job, and with personally annihilating the flaws he sees in Stitch.

Gantu is unyielding, ungracious, and cruel. And he’s big and powerful enough to be a test for Stitch to prove he’s changed. For the benefits he brings to the story, he’s worth 1.5 million and more. But they cut him anyway.

3. Jumba

In the new movie, Jumba is a villain through-and-through with designs on overthrowing the Galactic Council using Stitch, and instead of being redeemed, he’s sentenced to prison.

The Problem They Were Trying to Solve With This Change: “We can’t spend money on our real villain so we’ll just keep Jumba evil.”

The reason this is dumb is obvious. They created their own problem, and the ‘fix’ makes the movie weaker, not stronger. But here’s how.

In the original, Jumba is introduced as trying to self-protect. He’s on trial, and he lies. But when Stitch is revealed, he’s genuinely passionate about the thing he’s created. And he cares about image. He prefers to be called “evil genius,” and he hates the headlines labelling him “idiot scientist.”

You have to remember he’s part of “Galaxy Defense Industries.” They had him making weapons of destruction anyway. He just got too into it with his genetic Experiments, went a little insane.

I’m not downplaying the fact that Jumba is evil at the start of the movie. He is. It is evil to be outcasted from society and then respond to that with, “well, if they’re going to treat me like an idiot, I’LL SHOW THEM, I won’t care about anything except my passion for mad science!” That’s evil.

But it also explains a lot.

I said it in another post. Jumba’s whole utility as a character is that he knows who and what Stitch really is, better than anyone. He made him to be a monster who can’t belong and wreaks havoc on everybody else’s ‘place of belonging.’ Jumba is the audience’s insider’s perspective on what is going on in Stitch’s head, at first.

But when he’s redeemed, it happens fast. And why? Because that’s how plain and simple Stitch is, as a character. Jumba knows Stitch is a disgusting little monster with nothing inherently loveable about him, and no “greater purpose.” So when his disgusting monster is loved by someone? When his disgusting monster is willing to ask him, Jumba, for help? Something totally outside his programming, totally not what Jumba thought he’d ever be capable of?

That proves to Jumba, in an instant, that there’s love out there that transforms. And creates a place of belonging.

There were already germs of that, a desire to belong, a compassion, in Jumba after he reached earth.

He doesn’t try to get Nani fired, he offers an explanation for Pleakley’s swollen head.

He claims he won’t hit Lilo (why would he care about collateral damage?)

He sounds sorry for Nani when she’s upset about losing Lilo, and tries to keep Stitch from bothering her.

My point is, Jumba’s redemption isn’t important because it’s cute or because we need to set up the big happy found-family trope everybody loves.

Jumba’s redemption is important because it is just one more PROOF that what’s happened to Stitch is so incredible. The love Jumba finds transforming his monster is enough to transform Jumba, too.

But sure, fine, whatever, make him a soulless one-dimensional talking head. Whatever.

4. Stitch’s Design

In this movie, Stitch is cuter than he is ugly, and he’s half Lilo’s size.

The Problem They Were Trying to Solve With This Change: “Ugly-cute doesn’t come across as well in ‘live action’ animation. And all the Wal-Mart moms remember Stitch as ‘cute.’ Plus we’ll save about 15% in rendering the animation.”

This is crippling to the characterization of Stitch.

Stitch is supposed to be an echo of who Lilo could become now that she’s lost her parents and may be losing Nani. This scene:

Where Jumba points out that Stitch has nothing, and destruction is his only purpose, is the evidence for that. But Chris Sanders, who made this whole story, also point-blank said it. Stitch is a future Lilo, if she loses her family.

So that’s reason number 1 that he should be her same height. But also, practically, no iconic pair of best friends, yin and yang, have visuals where one is smaller than the other. Especially not if one of them is supposed to be disguised as a pet.

The point is, Stitch is not LILO’s pet. He is her best friend, her other half. But between the muzzle-muscles they worked into his upper lip and the darkened dog nose and the butt-scooting across the floor, the remake is trying to make him more pet-like in relation to Lilo.

That’s not what he is.

I said this in another post. But Stitch is supposed to throw food to the back of his head like a gator—his lips are not designed for forming words. His gums and teeth are supposed to look like a shark’s. His nose is supposed to be too big, stamped into his face. His ears are supposed to be like bat ears, not bunny ears. He hunches forward, instead of bending at the waist like a toddler. His eyes can narrow to lizard slits.

He has to look like he can believably be a disgusting monster. Yes, he can also be cute. But he has to first look like a monster. Because that’s what he really is, in the story. If he isn’t, then LILO’s love for him doesn’t look as powerful.

It is easy to love a cat even if it scratches you, because it’s cute. It’s harder to love a life-sized spider that keeps knocking you down and eating your prized possessions and laughing when you get hurt. Stitch is supposed to be closer to the second one, so that Lilo’s love shines brighter.

But also, practically:

She can’t look him in the eye for emotional shots when he’s that short. He’ll always have to awkwardly be standing on a box or a chair or a bed.

How is he going to scoop her up, hero-style, and leap off of an exploding spaceship with her in his arms, when he’s half her size? He could do it: it’ll look stupid, though. So they just don’t have that part in the movie.

She can pick him up. That alone is demeaning and again, the visuals are silly. Not what we’re going for.

5. Lilo’s Personality

In this movie, Lilo doesn’t like weird stuff, and she screams when she first meets Stitch. There’s no problem that this solves. It’s just laziness and a lack of care about the characters.

I would like to remind you that the original Lilo:

Made her own doll that looks like a shrunken head and pretended a bug laid eggs in her ears.

Makes up stories about a fish that controls the weather and actively deep-sea dives to bring it peanut butter sandwiches.

Has a knee-jerk reaction of using practical voodoo spells on friends who wrong her.

Listens exclusively to Elvis Presley.

Fills baby bottles with coffee.

Believes Nani’s manager is a vampire.

Has fishing nets and seashells in her room for decoration.

takes safari pictures of overweight bleached tourists.

meets a social worker and her first impulse is to ask if he’s killed someone.

Nails the door shut when she’s mad at her big sister.

She’s not friends with pound dogs in that original movie; when they first get there she acts like she’s never been in the kennel before, and originally wants a pet lobster.

I know that we all love that little girl they got to play Lilo, but if you were really being objective, you’d acknowledge that she’s a little girl. She’s not Lilo. She’s a cute little girl.

They did not write Lilo into the 2025 movie. They wrote any old little girl.

You should have known, from the moment she first sees Stitch and her reaction is to scream in the trailer, that THAT IS NOT LILO.

Lilo had a very specific set of characterizations. She was a character with a personality that exploded out of the screen. Every other character in the movie meets Stitch and reacts with disgust.

But not. LILO. She’s the only one to react to him like THIS:

She is literally not like anyone else. She’s doesn’t care that he’s ugly. Or weird. Or blue. Or even bat an eye when he can talk with all those shark teeth.

From Moment One, Lilo chooses Stitch. She chooses to love him. Regardless of what he can do for her. Regardless of how many times he pushes her over or rips up her house or makes her relationship with Nani harder. That is the number one thing about Lilo.

She is desperate for people to stay, but she chooses to love Stitch even though he’s a monster. And she tries to make him better. And her love succeeds in transforming him when nothing else could.

Lilo’s personality traits all mean something in the story. (I.e. she likes Elvis because she’s clinging to the past, she snaps pictures of tourists like they’re safari animals because they’re inherently people who LEAVE and she has issues with LEAVING, etc.) But the thing I think that was so obvious that the moviemakers missed for 2025 is she has to be weird. If she’s not weird, there’s no reason for her not to have friends. And if she has friends, what does she need Stitch for?

But also, Lilo’s personality in the new movie is just boring. Cute. But boring. Cute’s not that great of an accomplishment; any 7 year-old is cute.

6. Nani

I don’t think you guys need to know this. It’s not just that Nani leaves. It’s that “take care of yourself” is the exact opposite of the selfless message of the movie.

In the beginning, Lilo literally argues with Nani after being told she’s “such a pain,” and goes, “why don’t you SELL ME and buy a RABBIT INSTEAD?”

And then breaks down and cries at the thought of Nani wishing she had a rabbit instead of Lilo, later.

Because Lilo is afraid of people leaving. But Nani won’t leave her. Nani loses her job, her own life, because of Lilo. But she’s desperate to keep Lilo anyway, because she loves her. Don’t you understand? The message of the movie was about self-sacrificial love. A love that doesn't care what I get out of the relationship.

Nani starts it. But you know what, David loves her like that, too. And then Lilo transfers it to Stitch, who shows it off to Jumba. It’s a chain reaction, but Nani is spearheading it.

You realize that when their parents died, Nani already would’ve been in high school? With a whole life of her own? Her own friends, her own potential boyfriend, a job she went to, surf competitions (the trophies are in her room.) Lilo would’ve been well aware that that was the status-quo: Nani has her own life. And even a seven year-old can see that that life is being put on hold, but maybe the big sister wants to go back to it, at every turn.

The fact that Nani never does that, never expresses a desire for that, only ever expresses a desire to keep Lilo with her, is huge. It’s the core of the movie.

I don’t think that needs any more explaining.

We could talk more. Like about how Lilo needs to see that Stitch is an alien, because that’s the ultimate test: he’s one of the monsters who destroyed her house, he’s been lying to her and using her as a human shield, he’s a criminal—but she still winds up giving everything up to protect him.

Anyway. My neck hurts and I don’t want to type anymore. But we could talk about the music, the social worker, the grand councilwoman—it just doesn’t matter.

Ya’ll had more than enough details in the trailer to be able to not go see this movie because it was obviously going to ruin everything. But instead you chose to make this twisted corpse “the highest-grossing movie of any Memorial Day.” You bought tickets because they ruined a perfect movie and slapped together an uglier package for you.

Whatever. It was my favorite movie today, it’ll be your Treasure Planet or Tangled tomorrow. Keep riiiight on giving them your money, and keep letting influencers regurgitate the same four obvious facts to you over and over, because they paid Disney to make a talking-point for their content benefit. Whatever.

[crushpunky]

drew and actress!reader attend tudum

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

enjoy this requested fic <3

Bulbs flashed brightly as y/n stepped a high heeled foot onto Netflix’s red carpet. The attention of the crowd shifted to her, everybody’s eyes falling on her black minidress and dazzling, camera ready smile. From the opposite end of the carpet, an exceptionally loud holler caused y/n’s head to turn, her gaze locking with the familiar blue eyes of the holler’s source.

“There she is.” Drew murmured, his voice inaudible over the crowd, but y/n could tell exactly what was going through his mind. Y/n felt her cheeks warm as Drew’s eyes raked over her, a cheesy grin spreading across his lips as he noticed the details of her outfit. Y/n winked at him before returning her gaze back to the crowd of onlookers, their hands full of cameras and microphones and their voices all clamoring for her attention.

“Y/n!” An excited reporter waved at her, a wide smile on her face. “Do you have a minute for an interview?”

Y/n smiled back at the reporter before stepping to the side of the carpet to greet her. The fans crowding the barricade around her screamed excitedly, y/n letting out a chuckle as she waved at them before standing in front of the reporter and her camera.

“Y/n, it’s so good to see you here back with Netflix!” The reporter smiled.

“It’s so great to be back here with everyone.” Y/n nodded, gesturing to the Netflix stars that lined the red carpet.

“You look absolutely amazing��� of course— could you tell us a bit about your look?” The reporter asked.

“Aww thank you.” Y/n cooed, laughing bashfully as she glanced down at her outfit. “Well,  I wanted to keep it nice and simple. You can’t go wrong with a little black dress, of course.”

“Oh, of course.” The reporter agreed, her attention catching on a ribbon of familiar fabric adorning y/n’s hair, the same fabric tied into a bow on the back of y/n’s dress and on her heel. “I love the little bow details… the pattern looks a little familiar to somebody’s suit.”

Y/n felt her cheeks warm, letting out a little giggle as she glanced over her shoulder towards where Drew posed on the carpet, the gray plaid of his suit the exact pattern of y/n’s bows. She had wanted to surprise him, so she coordinated with his stylist to get some excess fabric to use in her own outfit. Judging by the smile on his face when he saw her, he most definitely noticed.

“Haha, yeah.” Y/n grinned. “I thought it’d be fun to coordinate.”

“Well you guys both look stunning.” The reporter grinned. “But I have to ask about the reason you’re here today: Knives Out. What can you tell us about that?”

“Oh jeez, I’m not sure what all I can say, you know?” Y/n laughed. “I mean it’s a mystery with lots of questions and twists— the classic Knives Out elements— but it also is something so different and unlike anything else we’ve seen before.”

“That sounds so, so exciting.” The reporter said. “Now, as I’m sure you know, you’re not the first Outer Banks alum in the Knives Out franchise. Your costar Madelyn Cline was in the previous installment, did you two talk at all when you found out you’d be joining the world of Knives Out?”

“Oh yeah.” Y/n nodded. “Right after I found out I got the part I immediately called up Madelyn and she was so excited… she might’ve been more excited than me.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet.” The reporter said. “How was it working with this absolutely star studded cast?”

“A-ma-zing.” Y/n said dramatically, a wide smile on her face. “It was so surreal to get to act with these people who are the absolute best of the best when it comes to their craft.”

“I can only imagine.” The reporter said. “There were so many new amazing faces, to the franchise but we have to talk about the Daniel Craig. I mean you’d met him before when your husband, Drew, had worked with him previously in ‘Queer’, but it has to be so different actually acting next to a legend, right?”

“Oh, it was amazing getting to work with Daniel.” Y/n said. “I met him about two years ago when I went to visit Drew on the set of ‘Queer’ and—”

Y/n was interrupted as the crowd exploded into loud cheers and excited screams.

“You talking about me?” A voice whispered behind y/n, causing her to jump before turning around to see Drew’s grinning face. Y/n immediately relaxed, her eyes rolling playfully. Drew chuckled, resting his head atop hers as he squeezed her in a hug before pulling away, but keeping his hand draped around her waist.

“All good things, I promise.” Y/n grinned up at Drew as he smiled back at her.

“Well, Drew, this is just perfect timing because I was just about to ask y/n about the next season of Outer Banks.” The reporter said. “How are you guys feeling about this being the last season? Sad? Excited?”

“A mix.” Drew said. “This has been such a huge part of my life— of all of our lives— I mean, I grew up on this show, I got married on this show, so it’s definitely bittersweet.”

“I agree.” Y/n nodded. “I’m so excited to see what they do for this conclusion but I’m definitely gonna miss it.”

“So, with this being the finale, I think everyone is wondering if Caroline will be making an appearance in this last season.” The reporter asked, mentioning y/n’s character from the show. After leaving at the end of season three, fans had been clamoring for more of the romance between Rafe and Caroline that had been cut short far too soon.

Y/n laughed, Drew turning to look at y/n with an inquisitive quirk of his brow.

“I don’t know, I guess fans will just have to tune in and find out.” Y/n said coyly, shrugging her shoulders. Drew let out a playful and dramatic groan, which caused y/n to giggle.

“Well, y/n and Drew, it was so nice to talk with you guys and we can’t wait to see Wake Up Dead Man and the final season of Outer Banks!” The reporter said gleefully.

“Thank you for having us!” Y/n said, waving to the camera, Drew joining in before planting a quick kiss on her cheek and leading her away with his hand around her waist. Drew leaned down to whisper something in y/n’s ear that caused her to laugh, the two of them continuing down the red carpet side by side.

taglist: @ladyatwalmart @lilfreakjez @starkeyslutzz @maiya-16 @wolfcin04 @rana030

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Summary: The Void is not just a power or an alternate form. It’s Bob's darkest self, an entity that feeds on fear, destruction, and chaos. But the Void desires something different with you. Not to destroy...he wants to claim.

A/N: Ik this isn't really how void works, but it is fanfiction lol, I hope you enjoy my work regardless. I am enjoying writing for Void and Bob so if you have ideas for either please let me know :) As always if you like my work, please let me know! Reblogging, commenting, and liking are huge and easy ways to let me know you're enjoying my work, and it keeps me motivated to post way more!!! Requests are open <3

At first, it’s just a whisper.

When Bob’s overwhelmed, exhausted, burning at both ends he sees the shadows curl in the corners of the room. Not moving. Just...watching. Waiting.

Waiting for you. 

Bob noticed that it has been showing itself more when you’re around. “Don’t get close to me,” he tells you one night. His voice is flat, too calm. “You don’t know what I am.” You smile softly, too sweet, too trusting. “I know who you are.” His jaw clenched, he wants to believe you. If he was honest with himself though… he doesn’t even know who he is right now. Because The Void knows you. And it’s waiting for you. What it wants with you Bob doesn’t know, but it can’t be something wholesome, can’t be something pure and those are the only things you deserved. 

It starts with little moments…albeit they were very strange moments. You wake up with your apartment window open though you swore it was locked. You feel eyes on you when no one’s there. A shadow flickers across the hallway mirror, but when you turn, it’s just you. And when Bob shows up the next day exhausted, stubble unshaven, trembling you don’t ask why he doesn’t remember talking to you last night. Because you already know.

It wasn’t Bob. It was him.

“You smell like sunlight, like the spring” the thing wearing Bob’s face says one night, voice too smooth, too full of hunger. He’s not quite touching you. Not yet. “You don’t understand what that does to something like me.” You back up instinctively. But something stops you. Not fear. Not exactly. It was more of a curiosity. "We don't get soft. Never been worthy of such softness." He leans closer, voice silk, deep, and ruined. “Bob wants to keep you safe,” The Void murmurs. “But I think I want to keep you...That we want to keep you.” He smiles a twisted smile that was completely different from the one you fell in love with. “And I don’t let go of what’s mine. Not without a war."

Bob hasn't been sleeping much anymore. He knows the signs too well, knows how it starts. The way the shadows cling to him a little longer than they should. How his reflection lingers in the mirror a moment too long after he’s already walked away. How the voice in his head isn't quite his own. The Void is circling again. And it’s trying to circle not only him but you. 

<><><><><>

The two of you always had a date night planned for two nights a week. Tonight was the stay at home date night, you had planned a dinner the two of you could try and make and he picked a movie that you hadn’t seen but was one of his favorites. Bob was excited for tonight, he hadn’t seen you a lot lately with work and just life but as he was getting things prepared he heard a familiar whisper. She’ll be mine… A shiver ran down his spine as if the words traveled through his body.  

“Don’t come by tonight,” Bob says over the phone. His voice is low, raw like he’s been screaming into the wind. “I’m not… I’m not doing...the best. We’ll just reschedule date night.” You seemed to perk up over the phone hearing that he was struggling. “I mean that's exactly why I should come by.”

“No.” It’s firm. But underneath that is panic. Fear. “Please. Just. Just not tonight.” You hear him breathe in sharply. Then, softer, cracking around the edges: “He’s too close. He likes you. He…he wants you.” 

You don’t understand at first. Not really. You’ve never been afraid of Bob. Even when the news whispers about "what he could become." Even when people look at him like he’s a bomb that was in the middle of ticking. But when you stopped by the tower the next day and got to his room, you could see that one of his walls has a hole punched in it as did the mirror, windows cracked inward from the inside and the lights shattered, you finally realized…He wasn’t protecting himself from you. He was protecting you from him.

“I would never hurt you, I god I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I ever hurt you” Bob says, pacing, running a shaking hand through his hair. “But he-he doesn’t care. He sees something soft and good and pure, and he wants it. He ruins it. He can’t—” Bob cut himself off with dragging his hands down his face. “I can’t have him ruining you.”

You step toward him, quiet but steady. “I’m not afraid of you.” He stops and looks at you. Something flickers behind his eyes—gold and endless, but underneath it,was something darker. Something grasping. “You should be,” he breathes. “Because I don’t know how much longer I can hold him back.”

That night, while you sleep on his bed, Bob sits just out of sight. Eyes glowing faintly in the dark. Hands clenching hard enough to crack bone. The Void purrs beneath his skin like a beast under glass. Let me see her, it whispers. She’s warm. She’s kind. She doesn’t flinch. She wants us. We could keep her. Bob presses his forehead to the wall, jaw clenched. “You don’t get to touch her.” The entity just laughs, his laugh, twisted and low echoes through Bob’s bones.

You already let me. She’s part of us now.

Tagging

@itsjustisa

[with-my-murder-flute]

the hunt for enneameter: new and completely unprecedented levels of alectopause brainrot

Elseweb I was trying to explain to someone why I felt that Ortus had a strong formative influence on Gideon and Harrow. And the reason is: They don't speak like normal humans. They speak like people very accustomed to recitation, especially reciting metered poetry. (My brothers and I grew up in a youth group that did a lot of memorizing and reciting old-ass fancy talk, and oh boy is there a difference between the two)

And the person said they guessed they could see it with Harrow but they didn't get it with Gideon. So to demonstrate, I pulled out Gideon's "the only job" speech from early in GtN. Which is where my troubles started.

As Harrow promptly tells her, it's structured in a set of three unnecessarily long and punchy descriptions. That's a remarkable level of rhetorical flourish and suspicious all on its own.

And then I started trying to explain how I thought it scanned in iambic pentameter, and some of it is long strings of iambs, but not all. Then I remembered that I hate doing this crap because what feel like very natural stress patterns to me are not how people from other accents or countries would say it. And anyway, I gave up on explaining the scansion, and just tried to break it into what seemed like natural lines to demonstrate the similarity to something like Shakespeare. I included syllable counts as I saw them in parentheses at the end of the line. Not all the lines were iambic pentameter, but 10 absolutely was the mean and mode number of syllables per line.

And then I noticed that with my pronunciation ('kicked' and 'flipped' as one syllable), Gideon's little speech was 96 syllables long. Not quite the 99 you'd think is appropriate for the Ninth.

...And that recognition of the structure wound up most of the way to spring, needing just one tiny bit more to fully click, led me to remember that sometimes Shakespeare breaks up his speeches between characters, and they make the larger structure together. Like, Romeo shows up in the balcony scene declaring the first part of a sonnet about Juliet, and then she shows up and Uno reverses it on him with the last octave.

So I looked at Harrow's next line.

It was 3 syllables long and completely punctures Gideon's rising bubble of hot air.

I'M GOING TO COMPLETELY LOSE MY SHIT HERE TAMSYN--

G: Nonagesimus, the only job (9) I’d do for you would be if you wanted (10) someone to hold the sword as you fell on it. (11)

the only job I’d do for you would be (10) If you wanted your ass kicked so hard, (9) the Locked Tomb opened, and a parade came out (11) to sing, ‘Lo! A destructed ass.’ (8)

The only job I’d do would be if you (10) wanted me to spot you while you backflipped (10) off the top tier into Drearburh.(8)

H: That's three jobs. (3)

People who are good at cryptography and poetry scansion please help. Before I go off to tear all my pillows apart with my bare hands while weeping, I'll leave you with one last thing:

those who are fit but to hold their blade in the scabbard never to draw it forth for the battle

28 syllables. Harrow says it doesn't scan; Ortus refutes this and says it's "enneameter" (after the Greek word for "eight") and therefore does. Casual reminder that the Ninth is positively shitty with people keeping secrets from each other using complicated codes and ciphers. How does enneameter work?

(Final tidbit if you need extra incentive: He also says enneameter is "the traditional form". This may be a quotation from his own work, or it could be from some other mouldering old book in the Ninth's library. Just how old?)

[devinescribe]

After School Project

[Damian Wayne x Reader]

So... school age[16] year old Damian is like... the most thirsted over guy in school. And here we have a neurodivergent reader who catches his attention. Before anyone comes for me I'm also neurodivergent:3 so yeah. Also, there's nothing wrong with being neurodivergent or acting differently than other neurodivergent people:3 enjoyyy

Arabic Translations(I'm not fluent google and apple translate helping me😭)

Ya Rayyal : oh man

Min sijak : are you serious?

Yallah : hurry/come on

'ant qublat eazima : you’re a great kisser

Damian Wayne was everything every girl in school wanted. Rich, hot, incredibly strong? Yeah, they were all swooning, head over heels for the young vigilante.

Except for you. I mean… at least you didn’t think you liked him in that way.

You were generally a nervous person, so for your heart to race a bit faster when he was around, or for your cheeks to flush when he spoke to you or complimented your intelligence was normal right? Wasn’t it like… just what happened to everyone?

He was just a guy. What you found more interesting was the subtle competition you two had going with each other in class. Well, he didn't even know about it, but you kept track of how many questions you both answered. He would smirk at you and made it a habit because he knew you two would be the only ones answering questions. It made your heart do flips, and your stomach do somersaults.

He was incredibly smart, which made you sigh in relief when you were paired up with him for the partner project.

You heard some girl behind you whine and whisper about how you didn't deserve to have Damian as your partner. You rolled your eyes, you weren’t great at detecting tone, but you could tell they were actually upset about this. Taking a deep breath and turning around, you were about to respond before Damian stood up, standing by your desk and speaking for you. It made you pout. You could defend yourself.

"Don't act like I'm your fucking boyfriend. At least she's smart and can get through a presentation without giggling every five seconds. Acting ditzy is the stupidest shit... but then again I don't think you're acting."

You blushed and snickered as he defended you. It was kind of nice to not have to defend yourself, even if you were just pouting over it.

The project was a simple poetry project. At least to everyone else it was. You had been published for your poetry before, so this, to you, was not just a small project, but something to have to prove yourself through.

"...Would you like to only work on this in class, study blocks, or after school in a neutral place? Of course you can suggest any other place you'd want to do it or any time, I'm kind open to just about anything-" you blabbered, not looking at Damian, sort of spacing out as you spoke.

He smirked, "How about my place? Alfred can just pick us both up. Y'know, if you're up for it."

You thought about it for a moment. This was less likely to interrupt your daily routine, it was an addition to it, which was easy to schedule around.

Which he had already thought of, which is why he suggested it. He also knew that you burnt out when waiting to meet up, which is why he suggested tonight instead of another day. It was a Friday.

"How long will I be there?" You mumbled aloud to yourself, not really expecting an answer.

"Oh my brothers and dad will not let you leave quickly. And Alfred will not let you leave before he feeds you... might as well stay over. We have plenty of spare rooms," he joked.

You look confused.

"I do not think it is appropriate for me to intrude on your family's home for such a long time. It would also not be appropriate for me to stay in your house overnight as-"

...

He stared, forgetting you took everything too seriously. Yeah, that's right, he noticed. He was a Robin after all! He wouldn't be a good detective if he wasn't observant.

"Hey. I was joking," he said quietly. Not rudely, even if there was a bit of an edge that he usually spoke with.

You blushed and tilted your head down.

"Oh. Um... sorry," you whispered, looking at the paper the teacher had just given out.

"The topic we have to write our poems about... is love?" You said, staring the paper down like you could change the words printed in ink.

"Ya rayyal...Min sijak?" He muttered under his breath in Arabic.

——

After school, you stood about two feet from Damian, personal bubbles were serious, waiting to head to his house after school.

His older brother, Tim, who was about two years older, came over to you both.

"Oh? Dami, bringing home a girl? Oh Dick is gonna love this," the boy snickered, teasing his younger brother.

You stared blankly.

"If you are implying I am going to 'make a pass' at Damian, you are mistaken. And if you are implying he would try something, I'd like to make you aware I refuse to be anywhere that people wouldn't be in the house. We are simply paired for a school project," you said, staring at the space behind Tim, but not at him.

He stared.

"So... no. Not what I was implying but... good to know... and good to know you're autistic."

...

"Tim what the fuck-"

"Game recognizes game. Chill. Still, Dick is gonna love this."

"Don't tell Grayson a word-"

...

"Too late."

——

The ride to the Wayne manor is chaotic as the two boys fight amongst themselves. Cuss words in both English and Arabic fly through the air.

Soon, the limousine pulls into the driveway and you are eager to get the hell out of that car. You stand outside, staring at the huge manor in front of you.

It was beautiful, the windows and architecture giving you a vintage feel, but you could guess the inside probably didn't match the outside.

Tim and Damian are still bickering as Alfred leads you inside, both boys trailing behind.

“The house looks lovely…” you whisper to yourself.

Alfred responds, “Why thank you Miss L/N. I assure you both Master Bruce and I take that compliment in high regard.”

You gave a shy smile, “Call me Y/N please…”

When you walk in, the first thing you notice is a big Doberman on the couch, and two boys, obviously older than you, one by maybe three to five years, and the other by a maybe 6.

"Ohhhh this is so great Dickie, look he really did bring home a girl," laughs the one with a white streak in his hair.

"Oh my god, you're so cute! You have great taste Dami. Not in a weird way y'know. So how'd you meet?" Dick rambles.

"We are not dating."

"Fuck off Grayson."

The phrases are said at the same time, making the three other boys laugh.

"So, what's your name?" Tim asks, suddenly realizing he had never asked through the whole ride, too busy arguing with Damian about what he had said, as Damian sits to pet the dog. His dog.

"Uhm... Y/N..." you mumble, looking down.

"Well, I'm Dick, and that's Jason. We're Dami's older brothers," Dick smiled, obviously very friendly.

"How old are you even?" Jason asked, leaning back, trying to guess. He could not care less, but any time he could tease Damian was a good time.

"16..."

The boys nodded. You felt a little uncomfortable, not because of them, but just the new situation. The dog, who had been laying peacefully with Damian, came over to you, and whined, placing a paw on your leg.

You smile brightly and kneel down, petting the dog.

"Oh wowww... Damian, you... you're letting her just... pet Titus?" Tim teases.

"Shut the hell up."

——

After the chaos, you and Damian sat in the living room working on the project. The project was as follows:

Each student is paired up with one other person. Each student must write their own poem with the topic given to them by the instructor.

After each student has written their poem, they must make on poem together. The poems can be in any style.

You groan and crumple up another piece of paper, throwing it in the recycling.

"You good?" Damian asked, looking up from his blank paper.

You shook your head.

"You struggling with this?"

You nodded.

"You going nonverbal?"

You nodded again.

"Let's go get a snack."

You followed the boy through the hall to the kitchen. He looked through some stuff before realizing, he didn't know what you liked at all. He grabbed the small whiteboard off the fridge, and gave it to you.

"If you're gonna be nonverbal, we still need a way to communicate. This okay with you?" He asked, handing you a new expo marker.

You nodded.

"What do you want as a snack? Or a drink?" He asked, showing you the cabinets and fridge.

You scribbled down for a moment.

'May the I please just have a water. I'm not too hungry. Plus I don't want to take snacks that were not purchased for me if that makes sense.'

Damian scoffed.

"I don't give a damn. Are you hungry, yes or no?" He asked, annoyed.

You began to write more excuses about how you felt bad, when he put a glass of water and a pack of mini Oreos in front of you.

His eyes said 'eat it or perish.'

"Yallah yallah, we got a project to finish," he ushered, taking his own snacks back to the living room.

You followed closely.

"I like when you say things in Arabic."

The sentence was so quiet, he wouldn't have heard it if he wasn't a Robin with a trained ear.

"Thanks..." he mumbled before adding, "Want to tell me why you went nonverbal? Just... like if it's my behavior or something... I can fix it?"

That made you blush. He actually cared about what you thought? He actually wanted to know if he was making you uncomfortable? He wanted to change his behavior if it did? What was this feeling…

You shake your head, sitting with your snack and drink, "Wasn't you. It's the assignment."

He looked at you in confusion.

"You're a great poet what on-"

"But I've never... experienced love... how... do I write about it if I’ve never even been kissed?" you mumbled.

"But all your poems are about love aren't they?" Damian asked, knowing you had shared your poetry in class before.

"Well... yes and no? I... I write about... what I think it would feel like... but I mostly write about how empty hearted I feel knowing I probably won't have my first kiss or anything before 18 like everyone else.... Everyone is falling in love and I'm falling behind..." you explain, looking at him for the first time.

Your e/c eyes meet his emerald eyes, and he's shocked.... In a good way.

"Guess we're falling behind together then," he shrugged, laying across the sofa, his head resting on Titus's back.

"Oh please every girl wants you you don't get it-"

"Every girl except the most interesting and smartest one. She doesn't," he said sighing.

“Okay that’s one person. I’ve never been liked by anyone, any guy I’ve liked never likes me back. No one has ever liked me… maybe they have but just… not like that,” you whispered, looking away.

“Well you’re wrong. You’re looking at him right now,” he said, rolling his eyes.

You tilt your head and look at him, confusion written all over your face.

Suddenly a wicked idea came into Damian's head.

"Well... why don't you fake kiss me? Then you can see what it feels like," Damian said with a sly grin.

"...Fake kissing? How do you fake a kiss?" You question, rolling your eyes. "Plus if it's fake then... it doesn't really get the love aspect in does it? It's just a physical thing that makes-"

You're cut off by a kiss on your lips, your eyes widening.

Although... you don't mind it. You kiss back hesitantly.

Then he pulls away and grins at you like... like that was his plan all along.

" 'Ant qublat eazima,” he mutters.

And now this man, who just so rudely cut your train of thought off (yes that is what you were most upset about) with a kiss, who has been insisting to his brothers he didn’t like you in that way, was blushing.

He had the nerve to blush after that.

“I…you…” you were strapped for words, unable to create a single thought.

“Um… in case that didn’t make it obvious… I like you. You’re pretty, you’re smart… you don’t treat me different because of who I am… and… and I guess you said you also like when I spoke Arabic which is a plus for me in any case-“

And you decided to have your revenge.

You pressed a kiss to his lips, shutting him up. It was quick, more like a peck, but it did shut him up.

“I was wondering what the feelings I had were…” you say with a blush, looking away.

“Well… now we can go back to writing our poetry… and now you have a point of reference… of course you can always ask for more inspiration-“ he smirked.

“Damian Al’Ghul,” you hissed, using his other last name.

He straightened up and nodded wordlessly.

“That was hot… I-i mean yeah Uhuh sorry.”

You sigh softly and shake your head with a smile, “You’re silly, Damian… and it case what I did wasn’t obvious… I like you too…”

[iluvbuckets]

when i'm with you

 paige bueckers x fem!reader 

summary: school globes part 3

warnings: none <3

word count: 824

notes: i know this is short but after i tried to rewrite it to make it longer, i liked this version better still i think its a good conclusion

✷✷✷

you had decided that you were an idiot. like seriously fucking stupid.

you figured that paige would probably ignore you–skip class, walk to school, switch seats in math class, ignore your texts–but she didn’t. in fact, it had gone back to exactly the way it was before you had kissed the first time. except, she didn’t hug you or touch you at all like she used to.

it was jarring. you were used to a paige who was borderline annoying with often she had to be touching you, from little touches while she was talking to cuddling while you were watching a movie, and you hadn’t kissed either. no pecks when going to the car, no make-out sessions before school. the short-lived fling was officially over, and it was all your fault. 

and it fucking sucked.

it didn’t mean anything was different with how you felt, it just meant that you were also aware of how paige felt but you weren’t able to do anything about it. well, you were, but you knew that this situation was even more complicated now. paige was not only your first kiss, but your first crush. if you messed this up with feelings and commitment, you could potentially be throwing away something that you had poured your entire life to. however, you could also lose it by ignoring those things. 

you sighed dramatically, turning to lie on your side so you were facing her. the movie that she had fallen asleep watching was long over, and her tv had automatically shut off by that point. she was facing away from you and as close to the edge as she could get, but you weren’t surprised. 

“paige?” you called quietly. honestly, you didn’t really expect her to be awake, but it was worth a shot.

she hummed in response. 

“can we talk?” you ask shyly after a moment of hesitation.

she sniffed quietly, but didn’t turn to you. “about what?”

judging by her sniff, you would’ve assumed she was crying. maybe she was. you definitely felt like you could. 

“the party,” you replied, looking down at the bed and tracing small circles with your finger into the sheet.

she swallowed thickly. “what about the party?”

“don’t play dumb, paige,” you rolled your eyes. “when you ran away from me after getting all jealous about mateo like that.” 

she sat up quickly like you had said something to offend her, facing you as she folded her legs to sit criss-cross. despite the very little amount of light shining in through her blinds, you could tell she still looked as pretty as ever–her hair not straightened and left natural, bare face, an old t-shirt, and pajama bottoms. she closed her eyes for a moment to gather her thoughts.

“i wasn’t jealous of mateo. there’s nothing to be jealous of,” she replied, implication dripping in her tone. you both knew what she meant too. she was talking about not only the making out, but your friendship in general. you were in her bed at that moment, after all, not his. 

“then what was the problem?” you ask curiously. you sat up too, copying her position, barely close enough for your knees to brush together.

she sighed in annoyance. “you don’t get it.”

“i’m trying to.” 

“i just–” she paused, hesitating to say what she felt out of fear, “i don’t want to be your friend.”

your lips parted slightly in shock. you knew what she meant, it was obvious, so you didn’t even try to pretend to be offended by her words. you knew she meant that she wanted more from you, but it was still surprising to hear her actually admit it. 

“i didn’t mean it that way, paige,” you replied, reaching forward to grab her hand. “i just got scared.”

she didn’t look at you. instead, she stared at your hand on top of hers. you didn’t move it though, you didn’t want to. and you were sure she probably didn’t want you to either.

“yeah, but you know we’re not friends anymore,” she said. “if we were, you talking to mateo wouldn’t bother me.”

you laughed softly at that. “i don’t know why it does. i was never going to go out with him. i was waiting for you.”

she smiled at your words, and you couldn’t help but smile too.

“i dunno,” she bit her cheek for a second, “you looked like you were flirting. i just don’t like the idea of him wanting to kiss you the way i get to.”

your heart rate picked up when she said that, and you considered leaning forward to close the gap and kiss her the way she’s talking about. but you don’t. not because you don’t want to, but because she looked vulnerable and innocent–like she had more to say.

and she did. “i don’t want someone else kissing the girl i’m in love with.”

[melshifting]

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ tarot question ideas!! ! (shifting) ༄.°

Do you have a tarot deck? If you don't know what to ask about shifting other than the typical “how am I doing on my journey?” or “will I make it this week/month/other?” questions, then this post is for you!

Here's a list of (somewhat) different questions in case you want to do a little self-reading:

GUIDANCE, SELF-INSIGHT

──── Why did I know about shifting? ──── Is there something my dreams want to tell me about my process? ──── What part of the journey am I ignoring? ──── What natural ability am I underestimating? ──── What/who will support me if my faith is questioned? ──── What sign/s am I constantly ignoring? ──── What new part of my identity / ability is emerging with each attempt? ──── What impulse / desire am I not taking seriously but should I? ──── Do I need to take a break?

LOVE, RELATIONSHIPS

──── Do we have a transcendental/destined type of connection in all universes? ──── What am I projecting onto that person that does not belong to them? ──── What is their love language? ──── What part of me feels safe when I am with them? ──── What energy/aspect do we both share? ──── What do they find attractive about me beyond the obvious? ──── What are (some of) their toxic or problematic aspects? ──── What things/elements represent our relationship or dynamic?

have fun!! happy shifting cutie :3

[softjeekies]

Waiting After The Rain

↳ pt. 1

Pairing: ot8!stray kids x pregnant omega!reader

Synopsis: An omega pregnant and alone after being kicked out by their alpha stumbles upon a pack willing to take them in and care for both the omega and their pup as if they were their own, because now they are.

Genre: strangers to lovers, angsty but lots of fluff to even it out.

Warnings: a/b/o, past abuse physical and verbal, past sexual abuse(mentions of past non-con), mentions of past violence, trauma, self esteem issues, pregnancy, aftermath of abuse, panic attacks, anxiety, pack dynamics, angst but it will be okay, polyamory

A/N: ah this is my first time writing and posting a multipart fan fiction in years, it feels so nice to be back! I hope you enjoy this, please be kind <3

It’s cold. You need to get warm. It wasn’t this cold last night, It’s only your second night being homeless and you’re already failing. You thought this coat would be enough when you ran out of the house away from the heated alpha, but alas, it was quite chilly this October night.

You continued to walk through the suburban streets as the houses became more and more separated, trying your best to stay in residential areas, the city wasn’t safe and the forests surely weren’t either. You laugh at the thought, nowhere outside is safe for a pregnant omega. A different kind of chill ran through your body when the smell hit your nose, alpha. Placing a protective hand on the curve of your stomach that was barely visible you whipped your head around looking for the alpha, You found him jogging up the street, coming towards you. Your hands began to shake fear flowing through your veins, you knew he would smell it on you. Before you could even decide if you should even try and run, he caught up to you and made a hard stop maybe six feet away from you.

“Are you okay?” his voice made me go still. Find your words. You have to say something, you can’t upset another alpha, lord knows if you’d make it out of this one alive.

“Yes. Just walking.” You nod and keep your head down trying not to make eye contact and offend the alpha.

“Doesn’t smell like it.” fuck, you think, you should of grabbed scent blockers. The alpha pauses for a moment before taking a step forward causing alarm bells to go off in your head and you jolt backwards. He puts his hands up and stops walking.

“I won’t hurt you. Do you have a pack? Can I call someone for you?” You don’t smell any malice on him but his words feel like a punch to the gut.

“N- No. You can go.” you whimper out, hoping the alpha will move on so you can go find a place to sleep tonight, and maybe cry.

“I can smell that you’re pregnant, you don’t have a mate?” the alpha looks genuinely shocked and you look at him pitifully.

“No, and if you’re going to hurt me please don’t, I may not have a mate but I want to keep my pup safe, please leave us alone.” you whimper out again taking a step back. The alpha’s scent which moments ago smelled like a warm fireplace now smelled burned, it was the smell of anger. At you?

“I would never hurt you or your pup. Omegas are meant to be protected. Do you need help? Are you homeless? I can call my pack alpha, I know he’ll let you come stay with us while we figure out how to help you.” Your mouth opens and closes before you shake your head aggressively, This was a trap.

“Well I can’t leave you alone out here.” he alpha pulls out his phone and makes a phone call, You hear him talking to a male voice before he hands the phone to you, In an effort not to upset him further you take it.

“Hi there, I’m Chan, I’m the pack alpha. Can you tell me your name?” a sweet voice spoke over the phone and it almost made you feel safe, but you quickly remembered how alphas can’t be trusted and that thought disappeared.

“Y/N.” If you all weren’t wolves nobody would have heard you, that's how quiet you spoke, afraid that any noise you made would trigger the alphas.

“Okay Y/N, Changbin was telling me about how you’re an omega carrying a pup all alone out there, that’s not safe yeah? I have a big pack house with some extra rooms, Can Changbin take you here? It’s right up the street from where you are right now. We have four alphas, two betas, and two omegas, everyone would be more than willing to welcome you even just temporarily.” Chan’s voice remained leveled and sweet, you thought deeply for a moment, a protective hand remained on your stomach, if the alphas were going to hurt you they were going to do it regardless if you went to their pack house or not, but if they didn’t want to hurt you, getting out of the cold would be good for your baby. You had to do this for your pup.

“Okay,” you mumbled weakly, handing the phone back to who you now know as Changbin. He spoke into the phone with a gentle smile before hanging up.

“Just follow me, it’s right up the block.”

You did as you were told and that’s how you found yourself walking behind Changbin into what you presumed was their pack house. You were immediately hit by so many smells but only saw two new faces.

“Hi Y/N, I’m Chan. We spoke on the phone, and this.” he gestured towards the blonde omega standing next to him. “is Felix.”

“It’s nice to meet you Y/N, I’m here so you can have an omega around for comfort, if you want the alphas to leave say the word” the omega spoke and gave the brightest smile you had ever seen but you shook your head no, omegas aren’t allowed to tell alphas what to do.

“You can meet the rest of the pack tomorrow, Why don’t we take you up to where you’ll be sleeping tonight?” Felix smiled and led you upstairs to a room, which was well decorated but basic. A guest room. Felix gestured for you to take a seat on the bed, taking a seat next to you.

“Do you want to talk about what happened? You don’t have to but it would help us know how we can help you.” Felix placed a gentle hand on your leg and for once you didn’t flinch at someone’s touch, Instinctively you knew you were safe with Felix at least. So you nod, willing to speak not only for Felix but also to not upset his alphas and get him in trouble.

“I come from a family that is very, uh how do I say this? Primal? We didn’t come from money or anything but they were very conservative. All of the subgenders have their place and you don’t stray from that. When I presented, they sent me off with their friend’s alpha son, It was fine at first but I think he was just trying to butter me up.” You took a deep breath, the scent in the room was sour and it wasn’t just your own scent either. “I would upset him and he’d toss me around, some slaps here and there to put me in my place. He- he got me pregnant about two and a half months ago. Yesterday he found out because he saw me looking in the mirror caressing my stomach when I thought he was asleep. He obviously wants kids because that’s what we are made for but he didn’t want kids this young so he was angry at me for conceiving. After a few hits he- he kicked me out. I haven’t tried to go back yet but I’m sure if I can just talk to him I can fix this.”

You didn’t even realize tears were streaming down your face until Felix gently took his thumb and wiped them away. You looked up and saw tears in his own eyes as he pulled you into his chest.

“You’re not going back.” You pulled your head from Felix’s chest and whipped your head around to see two furious alphas, spiking fear in your chest.

“Guys calm down, you’re scaring them.” Felix took your hand gently, squeezing it.

“I’m sorry. Fuck- I just can’t believe an alpha would treat an omega like that, especially one carrying his pup! I can’t let you go back there.” Chan ran a hand through his hair.

“I- I can’t stay with you guys. You’re a pack! I’m already pregnant with another alpha’s baby. You don’t want me, I’m used goods. I can’t get rid of my baby.” you spoke with panic laced in your voice.

“Woah, woah, woah, who said anything about getting rid of the baby?” Changbin spoke up, confused by your words.

“Alphas don’t take care of another alpha’s babies, especially not ones that aren’t in their pack. If I joined you guys I would have to get rid of my pup!” You cried as Felix gasped and rubbed your back for comfort.

“No. Absolutely not. That’s bullshit. I don’t know what kind of alphas you’ve known but me the alphas in my pack aren’t like that. You don’t have to join my pack, we will never force you to do anything you don’t want to, but if you choose to, we will take care of you and your pup, all of us, your pup will automatically be family as well.” Chan spoke assertively and it almost convinced you but you knew the effects an alpha voice had on omegas, that was simply biology making you think that way. You know how you grew up, it’s all you know actually.

“I can’t, I have to go, I have to go back home, oh he’s going to be so pissed I didn’t come back last night, he’s probably looking for me right? I’m his, I have his baby.” Fresh tears roll down your face while you panic again. You run a hand through your hair before trying to get up to leave before the most intoxicating scent hits your nostrils making you sit back down.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted you to calm down a bit. Your panicking isn’t good for the baby, yeah?” Felix speaks softly while taking your hand into his once again continuing to push out his calming omega scent.

You take a deep breath, the room suddenly too hot making you remember you still have your coat on. You keep your head down and fidget with the hem of the coat, unsure how to proceed with all this.

“Why don’t you take your coat off and get comfy? Do you want a change of clothes? Changbin, go grab something from my dresser!” Upon Felix’s request Changbin leaves no questions asked, You look up at the door and then back at Felix shocked, You’d never been able to ask your alpha for anything like that, The scene broke your heart just a little. Before you could overthink it Felix helped you take off the coat only to gasp once he saw your arms littered with bruises, something you rarely even thought about was causing him enough distress to sour his smell again.

“Yeah no you’re definitely not going back there.” Chan huffed. “Is there more?” He asked with urgency, making you flinch.

“Not a lot, I promise. Most of these are from last night when he found out about the baby.” You lower your head thoroughly embarrassed that this alpha now knew how bad of an omega you were. Before anyone could speak again Changbin returned, For a moment his eyes lingered on your arms before silently handing the clothes to Chan and leaving the room, taking his burnt firewood scent with him.

“Okay, may I stay here and help you get changed? I’d like to check your other bruises and potential injuries.” Felix gave you a big smile before speaking again. “I believe Chan would like to stay as well, but of course you can always say no, never forget that.” Felix took your hands and looked into your eyes waiting for an answer, You tried to give a nod in response but Chan’s voice cut through the heavy silence.

“We need words, please. We don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to. We won’t do anything without your explicit consent okay?” For the first time, you looked Chan in the eyes, and for a moment you felt a tug in your heart. Shaking it off you answered. “Yes, you can both stay.” You speak firmly, almost trying to convince yourself as well. Chan stays in place while Felix begins to help you take the clothes off. A gasp escapes his pink lips once more, he runs a hand over your delicate skin like you’d break even under his soft omega touch. His hand travels over a particularly fresh bruise on your upper arm causing you to flinch and whine, this in turn causes him to start crying.

“I’m sorry, fuck, I am so sorry this happened to you. Nobody deserves this okay? Please let us prove that to you.” Felix whimpered as he looked over your bruises checking for anything that may need extra care. You were at a loss for words, you can’t trust this pack. Everything in your body is screaming at you to go back to your house and try and fix things with your alpha, you can’t keep his baby from him, can you? Was he even looking for you? A small voice cuts through your rapid thoughts, your omega. Pack. No. No no no. This is not your pack, this will never be your pack, don’t get your hopes up like that, think about your baby, you have to protect your baby. Your thoughts are once again cut off by Felix’s trembling voice again now that you are fully dressed in Felix’s clothes.

“So, your bruises seem to be as okay as they can be, I can’t see any other injuries so that’s good! Have you been to a doctor yet?” You put your head down in shame, you were a horrible parent already.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. He was in charge of all of my health stuff and he kept strict tabs on me. I haven't been able to go to a doctor.” you cried out in what felt like a plea with yourself to be better.

“Oh sweetheart, don’t cry. We will get you set up with a doctor’s appointment this week. When we said we would take care of you both we meant that okay? No more crying, it’s not your fault.” Felix rubbed a gentle hand against your back and led you into bed.

“I think that’s enough for tonight, Chan is going to go to bed now right Chan? Would you like me to stay with you? I’ll keep all the alphas away.” Felix ran his finger through your hair as he shooed Chan out of the room.

“Goodnight Y/N. We will figure this out tomorrow.” Chan leaves with a gentle nod leaving you to answer Felix.

“Can you stay?” you look up at Felix with wet puffy eyes, a look in your eyes that Felix could only describe as broken and pleading.

“Of course sweetheart. Anything for you.” Felix shuts off the light and makes his way under the covers next to you. His instincts are telling him to hold you close and scent you, make sure you know you are safe here with him, but he doesn’t push, no he would never. You both lay in bed separately, Felix trying his best to keep a watchful eye on you without you noticing, waiting for the signs of your sleeping form before retreating to his own dreamland.

[miasmaghoul]

Magmar I need you to tell me everything and all thoughts you have about bugs first time getting high pls pls pls I wanna know

ilu rat <3

lots of thoughts, mostly swaeon character study (and then they fuck around too). no real warnings, just touchy-feely, grossly sweet making out, dry humping and frottage towards the end. they are IN LOVE do NOT separate 😤

"It kinda smells like you."

Aeon sniffs at the thin, tightly rolled cigarette pinched between his fingers. Is it still a cigarette when there's no tobacco? Aeon isn't sure, the thought simply drifting by while Swiss smiles at him. They're in his room, where low evening light filters through the windows while their knees touch. Cross-legged, Swiss leaning forward with his chin propped on both fists and Aeon tipped back on one hand, but still their knees touch. Aeon insists on it - needs little bit of contact always, when it's Swiss.

"More like I smell like it, but whatever floats your boat kiddo."

His smile is a genuine one, all fang but no malice. There's mischief, though. Aeon can see it sparkling in those golden eyes. Swiss' tail idly swishes on the mattress beside him, the barbed end occasionally passing through a rosy band of fading sunlight. The only other light comes from an oversized lava lamp in the corner, its blue-green glow starting to overtake sunset oranges.

"What's it feel like?"

Aeon spins the joint between two fingers, fiddling with it like he would a guitar pick. It's not that he's nervous, more curious. He's seen most of the others high off this stuff, witnessed a variety of effects; he feels like he's in one of Aether's clinic lessons, cataloging information with a hungry mind. Always learning, always wanting to, about his pack, the world around them, anything and everything he wants to know, he strives to learn.

He knows how clingy Dew gets when his eyes have gone red and his spine sits something other than ramrod straight for once. How soft and pliant he becomes in someone's arms, or on his knees between anyone's legs.

He knows how Aether retreats into himself, sitting in his chambers and playing guitar for hours on end. Sometimes with a partner - Dew and Cumulus are the more frequent ones, sometimes both of them joining in and making beautiful music together. Aeon's sat outside Aether's room and listened more than once, singing along softly as herbal smoke occasionally flowed from the crack beneath the door.

He knows how Sunshine and Aurora become ravenous beasts, the snack pantry a victim of their appetites. Sometimes they just eat each other instead, but even then Aurora demands dessert afterwards.

And he knows a lot about Swiss.

"Different for everyone, but you know that." Swiss winks like he can read Aeon's mind. Maybe he can, it would explain a number of things. "But mostly, with this one, you're probably gonna feel relaxed and kinda fuzzy around the edges." His hands have moved, elbows no longer on crossed knees as his palms find Aeon's thighs. They're warm even through his flannels. "Like...y'know that feeling you get when you wake up too early and realize you done have to get up for another three hours and you can go back to sleep?"

"Yes, and also I appreciate how specific that example was."

"Anything for you, baby." Swiss winks again, sleazier this time, and Aeon grins back at him. "But yeah, it's kinda gonna feel like that. I call it my snuggle weed."

Aeon raises an eyebrow, mouth quirked in amusement.

"Snuggle weed? Seriously?" Swiss nods, massaging Aeon's thighs now.

"I also have snack week, slut weed, sleepytime weed and creative mode weed."

Aeon has several questions, but before he can get any out -

"This's the one Dew like the best. Gets him into what I call 'kitten mode', and if I ever find out you've told him that I will remove your balls."

Swiss points at his crotch and extends a claw, and Aeon nods vigorously. The other ghoul smiles again, retracting that claw and patting his thigh.

"Good boy." Aeon's ear twitches. Swiss plucks the joint from between his fingers. "Anyway, I figured this would be the best choice for your first time."

"Not the slut weed?"

"Thought about it," Swiss shrugs," but you're already pretty slutty all on your own so -"

Aeon laughs, pushing himself up to whack Swiss on the chest. Swiss chuffs, grabbing his wrist and guiding Aeon's arm around his neck so he can lean in and knock the horns together.

"That one's Rain's favorite," he says with a sly glimmer in hie eye. Aeon's dick tingles. "But I'll let you find out all about that on your own time."

The sun has sunk low enough now that the cool glow of the lava lamp is the only light in the room. Swiss snaps his fingers, a trick learned from Dew, and the small orange flame that flashes to life casts his features in sharp relief. The cut of his jaw and the slope of his nose, and the way the end of the joint burns cherry red when Swiss lights it and takes a quick hit. The flame goes out, and the smoky blue-green that remains when Swiss exhales makes Aeon feel like he's underwater.

"So whaddaya say, kid?" He extends his smoldering offering, holds it right up to Aeon's lips. "Wanna let me be a bad influence?"

Aeon leans past his hand and kisses him, a quick exchange of herb-tinged spit and a delighted trill from Swiss, and when he pulls back it's with his mouth open.

Swiss feeds him his first hit, hands him a tissue to deal with the ensuing coughing fits, and oh, that's what he meant by 'the eye thing'.

Ten minutes later the roach has been snubbed out, and Aeon can't tell if he's laying down or floating just above Swiss bed. His body feels impossibly heavy, yet weightless. There's something specifically unreal about it, but in a way that brings calm. He's very aware of his breathing, and of the way the muscles in his hands shift as he and Swiss touch each other.

Most of Aeon's brain has been turned off, tactile sensation the only thing he can focus on, but till his inner catalog grows. He's learning, absorbing into every part of himself how this feels, how Swiss feels.

They're on their sides now, face to face as Aeon traces every part of Swiss he can find. Memorizing the texture of his hair and the warmth of his skin. The shapes sitting beneath the surface, muscle and bone and the rush of blood. It's like he can hear it, or maybe that's just Swiss' breathing. They're close enough that every exhale flows like water over Aeon's throat, legs and tails tangled together.

"Told ya," Swiss says as Aeon's fingertips pass over his lips. He gives one of them a kiss. "Snuggle weed."

"Didn' think it'd be so fast."

Aeon giggles, hands working their way down to Swiss' chest. His stubbled throat feels so nice, but his chest hair is even better. He shifts closer still, to feel it against his own skin. When had they taken their shirts off? It doesn't matter, skin to skin is better anyway. Swiss has his head propped up on one arm, the other wrapped tight around Aeon's waist. He can feel the slight swell of Swiss' belly squished up against his own stomach, and Aeon couldn't stop purring if he tried.

"Talk about kitten mode," Swiss rumbles, voice dark chocolate and red wine, and Aeon has to taste it. Has to taste him, one hand sinking into Swiss' tight curls at the same time he shoves his tongue into his mouth, and oh how the colors in his mind explode.

It's impossible to know how long they kiss. How long Aeom licks at Swiss' fangs and Swiss nips at Aeon's lips. How long they spend so close together that their two hearts nearly pound in one chest. Aeon knows he's hard, knows Swiss is too. Every nerve in his body is on high alert, eager for stimulation that Swiss certainly isn't objecting too. Aeon's hips rock slowly but relentlessly against him, and every time the tip of his cock bumps one of Swiss' piercings, even through both of their pants, Aeon whimpers like he's in pain.

It's work to open his eyes, but he's forced to when Swiss breaks their endless kiss. His lips are so slick and swollen, and Aeon wonders if their eyes are the same shade of red.

"Need more, sweetheart?"

Oh his voice. Gravelly, thick, slurred - Aeon never wants to hear anything else. He nods, shoving his face into Swiss' throat out of a sudden urge to suck in a mark where his pulse thrums.

Swiss grunts and hisses when Aeon uses his teeth too, but doesn't even try to pull away. He manages to shove both of their pajama pants down just enough, frees both of their straining lengths, and when Swiss' fingers brush his cock Aeon feel like he could cry. He can't remember ever being so fucking sensitive.

"Fuck, you're wet," Swiss groans, and Aeon nearly cums on the spot.

Not that it takes much most than that. Not when Swiss settles the slender length of his slippery stiffy against his own think shaft. Lets Aeon feel every rung of his Jacob's ladder as he takes them both in one hand.

"Don' worry if it's quick, baby," Swiss breathes, leaning in to kiss along Aeon's jaw. "You're gonna wanna go more than once."

Aeon blows his load in two strokes, with tears in his eyes, and Swiss doesn't even laugh at him for it.

[starkglory]

Prompt List

Here’s my updated Prompt List:) Requests are open! You’re free to request for more than one prompt or mix different categories together:)

Angst

1. “How can we go back to being friends when we just shared a bed?”

2. “From the day we met, I knew I’d hurt you eventually/ I knew you’d hurt me eventually.”

3. “I’m good at hurting people. It’s all I’ve ever done.”

4. “I/ You deserve more than this.”

5. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

6. “I want you out of here, and out of my life.”

7. “Pull the trigger.”

8. “I can’t trust you anymore.”

9. “Forgive me for what I’m about to do.”

10. “You mean nothing to me.”

11. “I wish I had never met you.”

12. “Of course you didn’t love me, I’m such an idiot.”

13. “What about the plans we made?”

14. “Bearing your pain has always been my job.”

15. “What did you do to make your heart become so cold?”

16. “Remember how we used to be? Because I don’t.”

17. “How can you be in love with me when you destroyed all of my happiness.”

18. “I’m so tired of everything.”

19. “Why does our love feel like prison.”

20. “When I let go, run for your life.”

21. “I always knew you’d die in my arms/ I’d die in your arms.”

22. “Your eyes can be so cruel.”

23. “You thought I cared about you? Cute.”

24. “Do you even love me?” “I did.”

25. “For a moment, I got everything I wanted.”

Smut

1. “This isn’t love — it’s revenge, and you’re going to feel every inch of it.”

2. “If I wasn't inside you, l'd kill you."

3. “You can’t take it? You said you could take anything.”

4. “You moan like you don’t hate me at all.”

5. “I’m going to ruin you the way you ruined me.”

6. “Let me break you apart — then put you back together.”

7. “Keep your eyes open. Watch yourself in the mirror.”

8. “Tell me how wet/hard you are.”

9. “Did I say you could touch yourself?”

10. “If you safeword, we stop immediately.”

11. “No hands. Use your mouth.”

12. “You always get clingy after.”

13. “Stay still. I want to fall asleep inside you.”

14. “You’re dripping down your thighs.”

15. “You’re filthy. I love it.”

16. “You came. So what? We’re not stopping.”

17. “One more round, and then you can cry.”

18. “You came from just my voice? Pathetic.”

19. “We’re doing this right here. I don’t care who sees.”

20. “You don’t need to do anything — just let me worship you.”

21. “I fucking love you.” “I love fucking you.”

22. “You’re so beautiful. Don’t hide from me.”

23. “Let me kiss your scars, one by one”

24. “Your pleasure is my favorite sound.”

25. “You’re so good to me. Let me be good to you too.”

Fluffy/ Emotional/ Tension

1. “I think my heart has been yours since the moment I saw you.”

2. “I tried to ignore the signs, but falling in love with you is the loudest thing in my soul.”

3. “I never believed in soulmates until I met you.”

4. “I love you so much it hurts sometimes.”

5. “Let me be the one to heal your pain.”

6. “I’m falling for you deeper than I ever thought possible.”

7. “I can’t promise you the world, but I can promise you my heart.”

8. “I’m addicted to you.”

9. “I didn’t believe in love until your name became my favorite word.”

10. “I’m hopelessly yours, if you’ll have me.”

11. “Who did this to you?”

12. “You came.” “You called.”

13. “Every time I see you with someone else, it breaks something inside me.”

14. “I’m drowning in silence because I don’t know how to say that I need you.”

15. “If you walk away now, I don’t know if I’ll ever survive.”

16. “My heart is breaking, but it still beats only for you.”

17. “I’ve always been yours.”

18. “I wish I could go back and love you sooner, softer, better.”

19. “I don’t need you to say it back—I just needed you to know.”

20. “Tell me to stop.”

[pannman]

What's on your mind

Yandere Radioapple x Telepathic reader

Pt 4

Part 3 here

TW: Angst, gore, horror, kidnapping, possesiveness, yandere behavior, non consensual cuddling

Alastor spilled all the tea. Telling Lucifer about your powers, the deal, and his orders for you to use him. Lucifer was understandably mad but underneath it extremely hurt "So... you... were never really my friend?"

*I'm so stupid...*

"No, I... at first I..." you tried to say something to make it right. But nothing about this was right. "What was that earlier?!? Did the kiss mean anything!?!"

*I let myself trust someone again and now I got hurt again*

"I never intended to hurt you!" You pleaded. You wanted to do whatever it took to make him realize how you felt. "So you CAN hear my thoughts! Oh my... the things I've thought around you... I can't even... I feel... violated"

*They never cared about me...*

Alastor simply stood and enjoyed the show. Nothing you said made a difference. Finally Lucifer had enough. He grew his wings out and flew away feeling humiliated. "Well, now that, that is out of the way come. It's about lunch time" you turned to him with your face red with anger. "How could you?!?" He didn't seem the least bit apologetic. "Now, now, you can't tell me I didn't make my intentions clear. I wanted to destroy him and I wanted you to help me. And I'll say you did a wonderful job"

"I hate you!" You yelled. He seemed a bit taken back. "Hate is a strong word... you certainly don't mean that" he approached you but you pushed him away. "You ruined a relationship with someone I grew to care about, you hurt me intentionally multiple times, you blackmailed me and you threatened me. And now you expect me to just pretend to be your little buddy!?!" You'd had it with him. One minute he was being cruel the next he wanted to spend time with you

"I suppose I haven't much of a gentlemen, but when I saw you with Lucifer-" you were too angry to listen to him. "You couldn't let me be happy. You were jealous. You want me all to yourself. I don't care what you do, I'm done! The deals off" you stormed off letting your anger fuel you. You didn't dare look back in case you had made him angry. Even if he killed you, you wanted to die believing you got the last word but as you left you heard what sounded like his voice in your head but it caused you no pain this time...

*I'm sorry*

After you left you went back to the hotel. Nobody was acting off so you were pretty sure Lucifer hadn't told anyone your secret. You were so tired from all the emotions you felt that day you went straight to bed. Even when Charlie asked if you wanted to join everyone in one of her activities. You simply told her you weren't feeling well and her thoughts revealed she didn't buy it but thought you must need space. She wasnt wrong.

You went to bed but tossed and turned. For some reason all you could think about was Alastor's thought. Was that on purpose? Or did he think that against his own will? Does that mean that you can hear all his thoughts now?

You were angry that Alastor was the one taking up so much space in your brain. It was Lucifer who should be what you were worried about. You kissed him... and he kissed you back. And then you ripped his heart out and just let him go

The following weeks Lucifer had not shown his face anywhere in the hotel. Reverting back to his hermit ways. Meanwhile, Alastor was behaving strangely. He was constantly complimenting you, offering you his help with every little thing, and he followed you around like a lost puppy. You tried to shake him but he was persistent. His behavior almost made you forget how horrible he had been... almost.

He even tried to bribe you with lavish gifts. You threw out the flowers he left at your door almost daily. You sold the golden pocket watch with a sweetly written message engraved on it and used the money to buy everyone a round at the club, and you threw his numerous letters and cards into the fireplace. One day he bought you a box of very expensive chocolate, it took a lot of restraint not to eat it.

Angel was grinning ear to ear seeing that you got him chocolates. "Its not even my birthday! you got the hots for me or something?" He graciously took your gift. "Nah, just wanted to get something nice for a friend" you glanced over to see Alastor gripping his glass of whiskey with static all around him. Angel pulled you into a 4 armed hug. "You da best!"

You were in your room that very night when you heard a knock on your door. You opened it to see Alastor standing there. At 11pm. "What do you want?" You asked. "I saw you gave away the chocolates..." he said. Was he here to complain? "Yeah, and I sold the watch and-"

"-and burned the letters without reading them and threw all the flowers away I'm aware" he sounded exhausted but not angry. "Listen, I want you to know that it is a terryfying world. And in order to survive in it sometimes we must become something worse than we were at the beginning" he said cryptically. "What. The fuck. Are you talking about?" You were just about ready to slam the door in his face. Pain surged in your brain....

*they won't come back to me... I'll take them for myself*

"What...?"

Suddenly tentacles wrapped around you. A portal appeared. You didn't know what was happening but before you could call out you were tossed inside. You sank to the bottom of murky water. You swam up to the surface and gasped for air before realizing you were in some kind of swamp. "ALASTOR!" You called out. "Alastor you motherfucker let me out of here!"

You saw ahead of you a small cabin on a little island. You swam to it. You were unsure if he was in there or not but it seemed like the only thing to do. You crawled onto the ground soaking wet before rising tiredly to your feet. You opened the door and it took a full minute before you realized in horror at what you were staring at

Sinners of all sorts with their heads mounted on walls. Their faces frozen in agony and horror. The whole cabin reeked of death and you covered your mouth trying your hardest not to gag. You immediately turned to run out the door but it slammed shut trapping you inside. You felt a very sharp pain. One you knew all too well.

*this is what I've become. The world made me this. But you... you made me something even worse*

He had to be close if you could hear his thoughts. "Where are you? You bastard! Let me go!" You grabbed a chair and hurled it with all your strength at the door but to no avail. "LET ME OUT!" You clutched your head as another wave of pain washed over you

*I'm not myself anymore since you came around. Losing my composure over a kiss. Pathetic! At least, thats what I believed until I realized the beast I have become is even stronger. I can feel it. I can't be without you but the damage is already done. You of course will never give me another chance willingly... but any mind can be changed with time*

"Show yourself!" You yelled as the lights suddenly went out. It was pitch black. And silent. You grabbed a lantern off a coffee table and a box of matches. It took a few tries but you finally got it lit. It barely lit even a foot around you. You suddenly felt a hot breath behind you.

"Boo"

You turned to see a very large very beastly like Alastor. Tall, lanky with pitch black eyes oozing with shadows, teeth now the size of your head and sharper than ever. You screamed and threw the lantern at him. He howled from the pain of being burned. He sounded straight up animalistic. You ran through the cabin as he chased you. You tried to find a way out but every thing was locked or barricaded.

You luckily were able to get enough ahead of him that you were able to hide in a closet. It was nothing but darkness and you were surprised your breathing didn't give you away because it was all you could hear.

*I know your scent little one... its engraved in my mind forever*

He burst through the door and ripped you out with one giant hand and pinned you to the wooden floor. You were 100% certain he was going to eat you. You closed your eyes fully accepting death. Instead he nuzzled you like a cat. His thoughts growing possesive

*mine*

He lied practically on top of you and the heaviness made it hard to breath. This went on for what felt like forever while he continued thinking very simplistic but posessive thoughts

*mine*

*never leave*

*stay stay stay*

*mine*

*forever*

But finally he calmed down and shrunk down to his normal size. You were exhausted from running from him, from feeling peak terror, from hearing his crazed thoughts about you. He picked you up bridle style and carried you to the bed where he lied with you holding you flush against him. You simply drifted asleep with one thought. I will escape. He had one thought as well...

*mine*

[mrsshabana]

𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐁𝐨𝐬𝐬 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑

ꔫ‧₊ Summary When Gyutaro invited you to come with him to an all-expenses-paid company event at an island resort, it felt like a dream come true. But to Gyutaro, it was nothing more than a stressful work trip. However, you'll quickly prove him wrong. Because when Gyutaro is alone with you, he can't help but let down some of his walls. Maybe you can show him how to relax for once. ꔫ‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, Modern au, Boss & secretary relationship, Gyutaro is married, age gap, angst ꔫ‧₊ Note 2.4k words. Hey guys! Sorry for the late update. I have been super busy with work and traveling lately, so I didn't have any time to sit down and write. This is my first free weekend since I posted the last chapter. But my work trips have inspired me to write this chapter, so I hope you all enjoy it! And thanks for reading! ଘ(´ 3`)ଓ

✧:･ﾟ→ Chapter 1 ✧:･ﾟ→ Chapter 2 ✧:･ﾟ→ AO3

This is the first time you’ve gotten to hang out with Gyutaro alone and outside of work. Sure, it was technically still for work, but he looked so much more casual than usual. 

Sitting beside you on an airplane, he wears a pair of slacks and a white button-down top. He looks nice, but something about the absence of a suit and tie made him feel exposed. 

But even so, he was in a better mood than usual and so are you. It was last week that Gyutaro invited you on this trip. It’s the “Annual Global Partner Conference,” and Gyutaro was expected to give several presentations during the four-day event. It isn’t just a regular work trip though, it’s to be held at an exclusive tropical resort nestled along the coast of a private island. A work trip disguised as an island getaway. There would be meetings, networking events, and plenty of downtime. To you, it sounded like a dream come true, but to Gyutaro it sounded like a logistical nightmare. That’s why he invited you. 

He told you that you did not have to come if you didn’t want to, but he would feel at ease if you accompanied him. Ever since you started working for the company, his stress has decreased drastically, and everything has been streamlined, honestly he knows he would be a wreck at this event if you weren’t by his side. So he was delighted when you agreed. 

A part of you felt flustered at the thought of going to an island resort with your attractive boss, without his wife. The possible scenarios of getting closer to Mr.Shabana fill your mind, but you try to push them aside and remind yourself that this trip is for work, not pleasure. 

“I-I’ve never flown first class before,” you say sheepishly.

“Well, you’re in for a treat. Order anything you’d like, it’s covered by the company,” he smiles softly. Looking down at you and quickly darting his eyes away as if he’s afraid of staring for too long. Your casual attire has him feeling differently too.

As the plane begins to take off, you notice the way Gyutaro grips the armrest tightly, looking nervous. 

“Nervous flyer?” You ask.

“I just… don’t like not being in control,” he admits reluctantly, his voice cracking slightly but you find it cute. 

Without thinking, you gently rest your hand on the back of his, just for a moment in an attempt to give him comfort. 

His cheeks turn red and he quickly turns away, not wanting you to see how flustered he is by your touch of kindness. Wanting to keep his relationship with you strictly professional, he’s afraid to let you see parts of him that he isn't used to showing. The vulnerable side to him that has only led to rejection and hurt when shown to anyone other than his dog. But he can already tell that it’s going to be incredibly difficult to keep up the facade on this trip. 

~

The flight felt much faster than it actually was. But to be fair, you did fall asleep, your head leaned against Gyutaro’s shoulder while he scrolled through documents on his laptop. He’s glad you were asleep so you wouldn’t notice how slow he was reading due to him getting distracted. 

He can’t even remember the last time a woman was so casually comfortable around him, and to say he was addicted to the feeling would be an understatement. 

“Wow!” you chime with excitement as the shuttle drops the two of you off at the resort, “This place is unreal!”

Your eyes are wide with awe as you take in your surroundings. All around you are tall palm trees, golden beaches, and turquoise waves. 

Gyutaro can’t help but chuckle, finding your excitement cute. He’s been to these conferences so many times that he’s forgotten how beautiful it was here, always too distracted by important documents and business deals. 

“There’s plenty of time to visit the beach after the welcome dinner if you’d like,” he says as the two of you walk inside, the concierge taking your luggage. 

“Will you come with me?” you ask innocently.

“Wh-er um… I… you want me too?” he chokes on his words, his eyes almost popping out of his head as he looks at you like you just said something completely absurd.

“Yes, of course!” you chirp, “I’ve seen how hard you work at the office! I think you deserve to relax a little.”

It was truly an innocent request from you. But even something so innocent and genuine has Gyutaro in disbelief. He can’t believe that you actually want to spend time with him when it’s not mandatory. Even when he goes on vacation with his wife, it’s rare that she would ask him to go somewhere with her that isn’t a Louis Vuitton store. 

“I um… s-sure. We can go after dinner,” he says shyly. This is the first time you’ve seen him like this. Instead of the cold and calculated businessman who seems to have a constant headache, he’s like a shy boy who got asked out on a date for the first time. 

Feeling his cheeks heat up again, Gyutaro quickly changes the subject, “Let’s go to our rooms,” he says as he hands you your room key. 

The two of you head up to the 14th floor, both of your rooms nestled conveniently beside each other. “Meet me in the lobby at 4:30 for dinner, ok?” he tries to say sternly, in his usual grumpy businessman voice, but it doesn’t sound quite the same as it does back home. 

“Yes, sir! See you soon,” you grin, your joy seeming to explode through your voice as you speak. 

The inside of your room is stunning. A king-size bed sits beside large floor-to-ceiling windows. And tall doors leading to a balcony with a beautiful view of the ocean. As you step out onto the balcony, you see Gyutaro from the corner of your eye. Stepping out onto his balcony as well, taking in the gorgeous view. 

You don’t know if he’s noticed you yet, so you decide to say something, “You really brought me to paradise, Mr.Shabana.”

He tilts his head to look at you, a stray curl falling in front of his face, “You’ve earned it.”

You’re cheeks flush pink at his praise. “Do you think you’ll be able to relax while we’re here?”

He leans on the railing with a deep sigh, “I don’t know how to relax,” he says honestly.

“Maybe I can help with that,” you smile.

~

For that night’s dinner, you made sure to put on something that was appropriate for the event. A sleek dress that is form-fitting but also very professional. You had no doubt that you would look good by Mr.Shabana’s side. 

And that you did. Everyone at the dinner was kind and professional. Gyutaro even introduced you to the CEO of the company, Muzan Kibutsuji. He had a cold and calculating demeanor, not too different from the one Gyutaro has, but his was much more intense. Nonetheless, he was kind to you, and even more so to Gyutaro. You could tell by the smile on his face that it meant a lot to Gyutaro when he received praise from his boss. 

For the dinner itself, you and Gyutaro sat at a table with other big shots within the company. Even a few company partners from other parts of the world. Everything was going smoothly until a greasy man with a cocky grin spoke up.

“Mr.Shabana, is that your secretary?” he points to you and whistles, “Must be nice havin’ a hot piece like that walkin’ around the office! I’m surprised you get any work done with her around.” He chuckles, causing some of the other men in the group to laugh as well. 

You feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. You shrink back into your seat, wishing you could just disappear. 

“She’s here because she’s competent,” Gyutaro says coldly, his eyes shooting daggers at the man, “Not because I needed something to look at.” 

The man gulps, grinning awkwardly like it was just a joke, “Right, right,” he mutters, “I didn’t mean anything by it… just making conversation.” 

Gyutaro didn’t respond, he simply continued eating his meal. The rest of the men at the table go quiet, everyone on edge now. As they should be, because Gyutaro’s position is above all of them, and each one of them is fearing for their jobs right now. All because some idiot had to make a sexist comment, and they had to laugh along. Well, it’s obvious Gyutaro didn’t find it very funny. 

You feel awkward and still slightly embarrassed, but you do feel grateful that Gyutaro stood up for you. The rest of the dinner seemed to last an eternity. But once it finally ends, the two of you return to your rooms to get ready for the beach. 

~

Meeting Mr.Shabana by the beach, you can’t help but grin at the sight of him. He actually looks like a person on vacation. 

“You’re wearing sandals!” you chuckle as you approach him. 

Gyutaro frowns, trying to stop himself from smirking, “Don’t tell Tengen… he’ll never shut up about it.”

“I won’t,” you giggle, finding it cute. 

Gyutaro lets a smile reach his lips when he thinks you aren’t looking. The two of you walking side by side along the ocean's edge. 

“Hey…” Gyutaro breaks the comfortable silence, “I’m sorry about earlier. Are you ok?” His voice sounds softer than it ever has, caring and vulnerable. 

“Y-Yeah, I’m ok,” you nod and look up at him, “Thank you for defending me.”

“It’s not about defending,” he says flatly, “You aren’t here to be gawked at. You’re here because you’re good at your job. And I don’t want anyone to mistake that.”

“Thank you,” you say quietly, stepping a bit closer to him, your hand lightly brushing against his, “I feel like most men wouldn’t say anything… they would just laugh.”

“I’m not like most men.”

“You’re right, you’re not.”

Gyutaro shifts uncomfortably, his feet sinking into the soft sand. Something warm spreads in his chest, but it isn’t a feeling he’s used to. It feels good, yes, but the unfamiliarity of being vulnerable with someone makes him uncomfortable. 

Without saying anything, you turn right and start walking towards the ocean. Kicking off your sandals and walking into the soft waves. 

“H-Hey!” Gyutaro stutters, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going in the water!” you shout, “I know I’ll regret it if I don’t get in at least once! You should come too!”

Gyutaro frowns as he watches you walking into the shallow water. The orange glow from the setting sun envelops your soft skin and reflects on the beautiful waves. It’s like a scene from a vacation ad. 

“She’s not even wearing a swimsuit…” he whispers to himself as he watches you have no regard. You’re so carefree and fun, something he isn’t used to having in his life. “Fuck it,” he says to himself as he kicks off his sandals and joins you. No longer caring if he gets his expensive clothes dirty. Because clothes can always be rebought, but moments like these are rare and fleeting. 

“Haha, why do you look so scared?” you tease, “The water is warm!”

“I’m not scared!” he grumbles back, “I’m just… not used to having fun, I guess.”

“Well, that’s gonna change,” you say, playfully splashing him. 

Gyutaro’s eyes widen, and he just stares at you. You actually splashed him. And that simple carefree action is what breaks his role as your boss. No, in this moment he doesn’t have to be your boss. He can forget about that role for now and just be Gyutaro. 

And once that switch flips in his mind, he lets loose. Splashing you back with the widest smile you’ve ever seen grace his face. The two of you frolick in the water, splashing each other with not a care in the world. Gyutaro even holds your hand when big waves come, afraid that you’ll get knocked over. 

Who knows how long the two of you have been out there, but the sun is over the horizon now. The two of you are exhausted, soaked, and panting as you sit on the wet sand. Enjoying the soft waves that come over your toes as you sit beside each other. 

“Want to see something cool?” Gyutaro grins.

“What?”

He digs his hands into the wet sand. Bringing them back up, holding a clump of seemingly normal sand. But when you look closer, you see a bunch of little bugs wriggling around. 

“Ew!” You squeal, “What is that?!”

“They’re sand fleas,” he chuckles, “Cool, right?”

Leaning closer to him, you look down into his palms to get a better look, “I’ve never seen those before. They live in the sand?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “They burrow in the sand.” He places them back on the ground, and they promptly dig their way back under the sand. Disappearing within seconds. 

“That’s pretty cool,” you smile. At first, you were grossed out by the bugs, but seeing Gyutaro’s interest in them made you happy. 

“When I was a kid, I’d dig them up and put them in my sister’s hair,” he laughs, recalling a happy memory he hasn’t thought about in a very long time.

“You’re a menace,” you chuckle, “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“Yeah, her name is Ume. She works in the fashion industry, so she’s usually pretty busy. But she’s the best,” he looks into the horizon, lost in happy memories, “Maybe you can meet her one day.”

“I’d love to,” you smile and lean your shoulder against his. 

His breath hitched at the touch, the simple gesture of genuine affection from you. He doesn't say anything, but his head feels fuzzy and his chest is warm. 

You actually care about the things he enjoys. Even if they seem insignificant or small, you show interest in them because they make him happy. He can’t think of a single time his wife has done that. Not that he ever tries to share things with her anymore. You’re the first person in a very long time that he’s felt comfortable enough around to let down some of his walls. It seems small, but to him it’s significant. 

As he sits there staring up at the picturesque ocean view, with your warmth radiating by his side, he doesn’t feel like a man with a bitter marriage, a monstrous reflection, or a life of cold obligations.

He feels seen.

[wearepaladin]

Something that astounds me is that there hasn’t been any serious attempt by anyone to depict a young Aragorn story. More specifically, of his adventures under the name Thorongil, Eagle of the Star, during the period between the Hobbit and Fellowship. Let me outline what takes place here.

From 2957 to 2080, Aragorn served in the courts of both Rohan and Gondor at a critical time, as this not long into Sauron’s return as a power in Middle Earth, and being an existential threat to both kingdoms. That’s 23 years of interesting stories to tell, showing several critical details about his development.

1. It shows him learning how to be a leader outside the confines of either Elrond’s or the Dunedain’s influence, where his role was known, if kept secret, and immediately respected once he took his role of chieftain, while in Gondor and Rohan under an assumed name and initially an outsider, his eventual leadership and trust had to be hard earned and genuine. This would prove critical in the War of the Ring, as he would be able to rally both Rohan and Gondor at their times of greatest need.

2. He also learns the ways of Gondor and Rohan as a government servant, earning the respect of both kingdoms Thengel and Steward Ecthellion, and thus know both the culture and the way these kingdoms were run. If you have ever heard someone sneer at Aragorn’s leadership lacking an understanding of the Gondorian Tax Code, just point to this fact.

3. All of the above situates Aragorn to be in a story that contains both courtly intrigue and a long war against the existential threat of Sauron. While he was beloved by Ecthellion for example, Denethor had no such warm compunctions towards him, and that had to lead to some tense moments that could translate well into a story of court intrigue.

4. Aragorn also lead a critical victory against the Corsairs of Umbar, Allies of Sauron, destroying Sauron’s primary naval attack force and slowing the plans of Conquest considerably. Umbar had a long history of those among Númenor who cleaved close to Sauron, and any depiction of them would provide an antagonist that hasn’t received as much focus as other servants of Sauron, allowing for some interesting exploration.

5. At the end of the 23 years of service, Aragorn went East, into enemy Territory, and it’s from his recounting of this we know a bit about Rhun, the home associated with the Easterlings, and where the stars appear different in the night sky. Outside of Mordor, are whole groups of people that have never received a fair look on what life is like under Sauron, and would not make peace with the men of the west until Sauron’s defeat. Here we could see not only men but the dark elves who never went west to see the light of the trees, who could have a culture quite different front their western cousins, and where the two blue wizards fought a unknown war against Sauron.

6. When Aragorn returned home via Lothlórien , he reunited and began the process of courting Arwen and gave her the Ring of Barahir, and she in turn abandoned her mortality for him. A powerful ending that heralds all the future events to come.

In short, you got character growth, you have conflict of intrigue and against evil, foes and cultures previously unexplored, and potential for new faces and heroes to invest in and hope for. When the Legendarium becomes open for all to write and publish, that is the novel I want to read and maybe even write myself. I’m amazed no one else seems to have hit on it.

[theseh00perscanh00p]

Coaching Violation: Part 3

paige x azzi

a/n: sorry in advance i think...

word count: 4.1k

Paige’s Apartment – Late Night

Paige’s POV

Her phone buzzed once.

She didn’t rush to check it — she was already bracing herself, like some part of her knew who it would be.

She flipped it over anyway.

#35

This probably breaks like… eight rules, but I can’t stop thinking about your hands.

Paige blinked.

Then stared.

Her body didn’t move, but her heart dropped like it had missed a step.

For a moment, the world narrowed to the glow of that message. To the weight of her name on the screen. To the heat rushing up the back of her neck like she’d just been caught doing something wrong — or worse, wanting something she couldn’t have.

God. Fuck. No.

She stood up.

Sat back down.

Stood again. Walked halfway across the room and doubled back, phone still in her hand like a live grenade.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.

She typed:

Azzi. Don’t do this.

Deleted.

Typed again:

You’re making this harder than it already is.

Deleted.

Another one:

I miss you too.

She stared at that one the longest.

It felt the most like truth.

It felt dangerous.

Backspace. Backspace. Backspace.

Still no read receipt. Still no second text. Just that one. Blunt. Raw. Hers.

She opened the thread.

Paused.

Closed it.

Opened it again. Let the “typing…” bubble appear. Vanish. Reappear. Disappear again.

And then—

She just left it. Open.

Let the message sit there like a wound she didn’t know how to clean.

Read.

No reply.

The silence was louder than any words she could’ve sent.

She tossed the phone across the bed and climbed in after it, limbs heavy with everything unsaid.

Stared at the ceiling.

Cursed under her breath.

“Goddammit, Paige.”

Her hands dragged over her face. She could still feel Azzi’s voice in her ear, warm and teasing from a time that felt both too far and too close.

You’re not gonna say anything? After that?

You gonna ghost me after I just…

At least tell me what this was.

The texts Azzi had sent in the days after Vegas hadn’t stopped at one. Paige had ignored all of them. Until eventually, they’d stopped coming.

No closure. No honesty. Just silence.

And now here she was — doing it again.

Making the same mistake. Choosing the same cowardice.

Because that was easier than admitting the truth.

That it had meant something.

That it still did.

And that she was terrified of what wanting her again might cost them both.

So she closed her eyes, heart still racing, and let the guilt settle in beside her like a second pillow.

Across the city, Azzi’s screen lit up once more — Read.

No dots. No reply.

Only the ghost of a conversation Paige wouldn’t let herself start.

Not again.

Not yet.

Azzi’s Apartment – Just Before Dawn

Azzi’s POV

She didn’t sleep.

Not for a second.

The couch cushion beneath her was stiff, the blanket she’d thrown over herself half-fallen to the floor, and her phone rested like dead weight on her chest — screen still glowing, still open, still waiting.

She had told herself she wouldn’t expect anything.

That it was reckless. That Paige was her coach now. That it didn’t mean anything anymore.

But she had sent the message anyway.

Because some desperate, half-drunk piece of her had hoped that maybe — just maybe — this time would be different.

That maybe she’d wake up to a reply.

Even if it wasn’t sweet.

Even if it wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

Even that would’ve been better than nothing.

But there was no reply.

Just a tiny read receipt.

Seen.

And then nothing.

Azzi stared at the ceiling, arms crossed tight over her ribs like she was trying to hold herself together. Her eyes burned, but not from sleep. Not exactly.

She hadn’t cried. She wouldn’t give herself that.

But the ache? The ache was everywhere. It crept into her fingertips, her throat, the space behind her knees. She felt bruised by it. Hollowed out.

The message ran circles in her mind:

This probably breaks like… eight rules, but I can’t stop thinking about your hands.

God. What was she thinking?

She should’ve known better. Should’ve known Paige wouldn’t cross that line — not again. Should’ve remembered what it felt like last time, after that night in Vegas, when she’d texted and texted and waited days just to be left in silence.

She thought maybe time would change something.

It hadn’t.

The sun started to rise, casting a pale gold wash across the hardwood floor.

Azzi sat up slowly, joints stiff from the weight of stillness. She looked down at her phone one last time. No new notifications.

Just the same message.

The same silence.

She didn’t bother responding to it with anything else. Didn’t delete the thread either. Just locked the screen and dropped the phone into her gym bag.

It was time for practice.

Time to be an athlete again.

Time to pretend like none of this had ever happened.

Because clearly —

To Paige, it hadn’t.

Sparks Practice Facility – Early Morning

Azzi walked in like a ghost — like something left behind by the storm it survived.

First one in.

Even the lights weren’t fully on yet. The court glowed dim under the early fluorescents, shadows dragging across the hardwood like they hadn’t decided whether to stay or vanish.

Her bag thudded against the floor harder than she meant it to. Her shoes felt too heavy. Her limbs too slow. Even her hoodie clung wrong.

She didn’t stretch. Not really. Just went through the motions — ankle rolls, quad pulls, a few hip openers. Muscle memory only. Her brain wasn’t there.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the long glass window along the wall that separated the court from the offices and weight room. The reflection didn’t lie.

She looked like shit.

Eyes tired. Shoulders slumped. Face pale under the gym lights. And yet — she didn’t feel like crying. She just felt empty.

Like the night had scraped her out and left her hollow in all the worst places.

She stood there, frozen in front of her reflection, hands on her hips, trying to breathe.

And then—

She heard it.

The click of the staff hallway door. The soft tread of sneakers. That familiar rhythm.

Paige.

Azzi didn’t turn. Didn’t have to. She felt her presence before she saw it.

Paige walked in — clean, composed, hair tied up, clipboard in hand like nothing was amiss.

And she looked at her.

A full look. Not a glance. Not a pass-by.

Her eyes scanned Azzi’s entire frame, and for a moment, it almost looked like concern. Almost.

But she said nothing.

No nod. No comment. No reaction that said, I saw your message.

No reaction that said, I read it a dozen times but still didn’t know what to say.

No reaction at all.

Just a look.

Then Paige turned and walked straight into her office, the door shutting quietly behind her.

Azzi stared at the door for a long moment, breath caught somewhere between her lungs and her throat.

That was it, then.

Not even a nod.

Nothing.

Paige’s Office – Same Morning

Paige’s POV

The door clicked shut behind her.

And the second it did, she exhaled — a long, guttural breath that sounded too much like a curse and not enough like relief.

“Fuck,” she whispered into the quiet. Her clipboard thudded onto the desk.

She pressed both palms against the edge of it, head bowed, eyes closed.

She looks like shit.

Not in the way someone lazy or unfocused did. Not like someone slacking. No — Azzi looked like someone who hadn’t slept. Like someone whose armor had cracked. Like someone wrecked by silence.

And Paige knew exactly why.

“She looks like shit,” she whispered again. “And it’s because of me.”

She hated how true it was.

The way Azzi didn’t even lift her head when she walked in — the dull weight in her shoulders, the way her hoodie was bunched like she hadn’t noticed, hadn’t cared. Paige saw it all in that one glance.

And still, she said nothing.

Because what could she say?

She wanted to fix it. God, she wanted to. She wanted to walk back out there, call Azzi by name, say something — anything — that would soften the edges again.

But she didn’t know how to do that without crossing a line. Without unraveling the tightrope she’d built to survive this new reality.

She couldn’t be what Azzi wanted.

She couldn’t even be honest about what she wanted.

And that was the worst part — it all felt like too much and too little at the same time.

Too much responsibility.

Too little room for mistakes.

Too much history.

Too little future.

She rubbed her temples hard, then leaned her weight against the desk like it could hold more than her clipboard.

Azzi was breaking.

And Paige?

She wasn’t far behind.

Sparks Practice Facility – Mid-Morning

Paige blew her whistle harder than necessary.

“Again!” she barked. “Reset from the wing. Clean screens, clean cuts — let’s go!”

Her voice echoed through the gym, sharp and commanding. She watched the players shuffle back into place, sneakers squeaking, water bottles forgotten on the sideline.

She paced the baseline with her arms crossed, keeping her eyes everywhere and nowhere all at once — because the truth was, she only saw her.

Azzi.

Off rhythm. Off timing. A step slow. A second late.

She was off, and not in a small way.

Her passes were lazy, her footwork was wrong, her shots weren’t falling. She didn’t even argue calls like she normally would. She just took them. Swallowed them.

And the worst part? Paige knew exactly why.

And it was her fault.

She saw the dark circles under Azzi’s eyes. The stiffness in her movements. The way her mouth stayed flat no matter what her teammates said to her. Paige saw all of it — and she knew. She knew it was the aftermath of being left on read. The aftermath of silence.

The aftermath of her.

She bit the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood.

But she couldn’t make excuses. Not now. Not for her.

She couldn’t let the team see her pulling punches. She couldn’t go easy just because the girl she couldn’t stop dreaming about also happened to be fucking up every rep.

So when Azzi turned the ball over again, Paige didn’t hesitate.

“Fudd!” she shouted. “You’re telegraphing every pass — defense is two steps ahead of you every time. That’s three turnovers in a row.”

Azzi’s eyes flicked up, hollow and tired, but she said nothing.

Paige took a breath. Willed herself not to let it show how hard this was.

“If you’re tired, say so. If you’re not locked in, get locked in. You want to be a leader on this team? Play like it.”

A few teammates shifted uncomfortably. The gym got quiet.

It was too much.

It wasn’t enough.

It was weird.

Because Paige was trying too hard not to look like she was trying at all.

And everyone could feel it — the tension. The imbalance.

Paige looked away. Blew the whistle again. “Run it back. From the top. Let’s clean it up.”

As the team moved, Paige stayed still, her stomach twisted into knots.

This wasn’t just on Azzi.

This was on her, too.

Because how the hell was she supposed to coach her when all she wanted to do was go back to last night and say something — anything — besides nothing?

Sparks Practice Facility – Two Hours Post-Practice

Azzi’s POV

The gym was nearly silent now — just the rhythmic bounce of the ball and the screech of rubber soles pivoting against the hardwood.

Azzi’s hoodie was long gone. Her tank clung to her skin, soaked straight through. Her legs burned. Her arms shook. Her lungs felt like they were operating on borrowed time.

But she wasn’t leaving.

Not until she made ten in a row.

Clean. No rim.

She’d hit seven once. Five, twice. But every time she missed one, she started the count over.

Because today, she refused to be the girl Paige had to correct.

Refused to be the weak link.

Refused to be the one left behind again.

The ache in her quads was blinding now. Her shoulder was screaming. Every missed shot felt like a taunt.

But she couldn’t go.

Wouldn’t.

Her pride had a death grip on her body, and her body was too stubborn to ask for a break.

So she reset. Again.

Shot.

Clink.

Reset.

Shot.

Swish.

Again.

Again.

Again.

She was somewhere in the middle of attempt number who-the-fuck-even-knew anymore when she heard it.

A door creaking open.

Soft footsteps.

Then:

“Azzi,” Paige said, voice low but firm. “That’s enough.”

Azzi’s stomach dropped.

She didn’t turn. Just retrieved the ball and lined up another shot.

“No, it’s not,” she muttered, letting it fly.

Rim.

She cursed under her breath. Bent down, snatched the ball off the bounce, and spun back to the arc.

“Azzi.” Paige’s voice was closer now. “Stop. Please. You’re done.”

That landed harder than it should have.

Azzi finally turned, slow and sharp, ball tucked under one arm.

“Oh, now you have something to say?”

Paige froze.

Azzi swallowed hard, blinking past the sweat and sting in her eyes.

“You’ve got nothing to say when I’m looking right at you. Nothing to say when I’m dragging through drills and barely sleeping and getting benched in spirit before the season even starts. But now that I’m pushing through on my own time, now you step in?”

Her voice cracked slightly at the end. She hated that it did.

Paige didn’t move. Just stood there — hoodie sleeves still pushed up, eyes dark and unreadable.

Azzi shook her head once, biting the inside of her cheek. “Right. Coach’s orders, I forgot.”

And just like that, she turned back to the arc. Ball in hand. Shoulders squared.

Shot.

Miss.

But this time… she didn’t reset.

She just stood there, staring at the rim, not sure what hurt more:

Her shoulder.

Her pride.

Or the fact that Paige still hadn’t said a word.

Paige’s POV

She didn’t mean to walk toward her.

She told herself she wouldn’t.

She told herself she’d stay by the door, say her piece, and leave. Be the coach. Be the adult. Be the composed, capable leader everyone expected her to be.

But watching Azzi miss again — and still reset, still dig her heels into the floor like the weight of everything she was carrying could be outrun by stubbornness — it broke something open in Paige.

She just stood there, stunned at first, watching her.

The way Azzi didn’t even wipe the sweat from her eyes anymore. The way her form had started to collapse in on itself from sheer exhaustion. The way her arms trembled before every release.

It wasn’t about shooting anymore.

It was about pain. And pride. And punishment.

And Paige couldn’t fucking take it.

So her legs moved. Fast. Before her brain caught up.

Azzi had just caught the rebound and was stepping behind the line again when Paige reached her. She didn’t speak — just stepped into her space and gently, but firmly, pressed both palms to Azzi’s arms, stopping the shot mid-motion.

“Please,” Paige said, voice barely holding together. “Just stop.”

Azzi stiffened under her touch — too aware of how close they were. So was Paige. She could feel the heat radiating off her skin, the tremble in her biceps, the way Azzi’s chest rose and fell like she couldn’t quite catch her breath.

“Let go,” Azzi said, barely more than a whisper.

“No.”

“Paige—”

“You’re hurting yourself,” Paige said, fingers still curled around Azzi’s arms. “You’re exhausted. You’re gonna tear something.”

“I don’t care,” Azzi snapped, voice cracking hard. “I can’t leave like this.”

Paige swallowed, jaw tight, heart hammering.

“I know what this is,” she said, softer now. “You think if you just push harder, it’ll go away. That the pain will make the silence easier. But it won’t.”

Azzi looked down, eyes burning. Her voice came out uneven. “Don’t talk like you know what I’m feeling.”

“I do,” Paige said, thumb brushing lightly over Azzi’s skin without meaning to. “Because I’m the one who left you with it.”

Azzi flinched.

Paige exhaled shakily, fingers still holding on.

“You said you couldn’t stop thinking about these hands,” she said, almost too quiet to hear. “Well, neither can I. I think about what they did… and what they didn’t do.”

Azzi’s breath hitched — the kind of sound you make when you’re one word away from shattering.

Paige stepped back, slowly, finally letting go.

“Go home,” she said, gently this time. “Please.”

She didn’t wait for an answer. Just turned.

And this time, when she walked away, it felt like the hardest thing she’d ever done.

Azzi’s Apartment – That Night

Azzi’s POV

She didn’t remember driving home.

Everything after the gym felt like a blur — muscle memory on autopilot. Unlock the door. Drop the keys. Ditch the shoes.

She stood in the middle of her bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror. Red eyes. Chapped lips. Her hoodie soaked through with sweat. The girl looking back didn’t feel like her — not the version she spent years building. Not the player. Not the face of a franchise.

She peeled the hoodie off slowly, then her tank, then her shorts — each movement slower than the last, like her body was threatening to shut down if she didn’t stop pushing it.

She turned the shower on.

Hot. As hot as it would go.

She meant to stand. To wash off the day. To scrub away whatever invisible weight had taken residence beneath her skin.

But when the steam hit her face and the first droplets hit her collarbone, her knees buckled, and she let them.

She sat on the tile floor, back against the cool wall, legs pulled to her chest. The water poured over her head like it was trying to baptize her into a new kind of numb.

She didn’t move.

Didn’t scrub. Didn’t soap. Just sat there. Let it run.

The heat turned cold eventually — ice-cold — but she didn’t notice.

She was somewhere else.

Still standing at half court, Paige’s hands on her arms.

Still hearing her voice — You said you couldn’t stop thinking about these hands… well, neither can I.

Still wondering what the hell any of it meant.

Still wishing she’d stayed.

Azzi buried her face in her knees, forehead pressed to skin, water pooling at her feet.

She felt like she was locked in something invisible. A prison built from silence and memory and all the words they weren’t allowed to say out loud.

She wasn’t crying.

Not really.

But her throat ached like she wanted to.

And she stayed there.

Alone. Cold. Still.

Trapped inside a storm she didn’t know how to weather.

Azzi’s Apartment – Early Morning

She hadn’t slept.

Not really.

Her body had finally given out somewhere around 3 a.m., damp towel still wrapped around her, comforter only half-pulled over her legs, her phone facedown on the nightstand — still unread, still unanswered.

She blinked awake to the chime of a new notification.

Subject line:

2025 WNBA Season – Final Travel Schedule + Game Week Protocol

Azzi stared at it for a second before dragging her thumb across the screen, opening it like it might bite her.

The full season stared back at her in bold block letters.

First game.

Away.

Las Vegas.

She groaned, dropping her head back against the pillow with a thud. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Viva Las fucking Vegas.

Of course it was.

Her stomach twisted, not from nerves — from knowing.

Knowing exactly what city they’d be stepping into. What memories lived in the seams of hotel sheets and blurred hallway lights. What ghosts she’d left behind there… and what one very real person had taken with her when she walked out without a word.

Flash—

Same hotel.

Same sun-bleached morning.

The curtains had been cracked just enough to let in light across the white sheets tangled around Azzi’s legs.

She’d woken up alone.

No knock. No note. No text.

Just the imprint of Paige’s body still faint on the mattress, like a lie she wasn’t brave enough to believe.

Azzi had laid there in that silence for what felt like an hour — staring at the ceiling, replaying every laugh, every kiss, every look that had felt too real to be nothing.

But nothing was exactly what she got.

Not a word.

Not a reason.

Just air.

And in that moment, everything inside her had shifted. Something sweet turned bitter. Something soft turned guarded.

She hadn’t been the same since.

She wasn’t sure she ever would be.

Her fingers hovered over the email. Her eyes glazed over the rest of the schedule.

But all she could see was the city that took her breath and never gave it back.

Vegas.

And now they were going back — together. But still worlds apart.

Las Vegas – Team Hotel Arrival

Paige’s POV

The team bus rolled to a stop under the sprawling awning of the Bellagio — all glittering lights, high ceilings, and mirrored elevators. Paige barely glanced out the tinted window, too busy mentally running through curfews, arrival checklists, and the playbook updates she’d still need to finalize tonight.

Then the doors opened.

And her stomach dropped.

The carpet.

The chandeliers.

The exact same goddamn lobby.

Of course it was.

She blinked slowly, once, like maybe if she reopened her eyes it would be somewhere else — somewhere new. But no. It was the same hotel from ten months ago.

The hotel where she’d sat beside Azzi at the bar.

Where everything had shifted with one long look and two drinks too deep.

Where they’d laughed — like nothing else mattered.

Where she’d touched her like she already knew how it would all fall apart.

“Alright!” KK clapped, breaking through Paige’s spiral. “Let’s grab keys, get upstairs, and not be a headline, yeah?”

Players peeled off in groups, bags rolling behind them, excitement buzzing from the glitter and chaos that only Vegas could manufacture. Paige handed out a few cards, nodded through light banter, and gave the same calm, dry warning she always gave before game nights in big cities.

“Breakfast is at eight. Bus leaves at nine. Don’t make me call your mom. And if any of you end up on TMZ tonight, I’m making you run until you cry.”

Laughter echoed through the group.

She softened her tone just enough. “Seriously — be safe. This city’s loud, but I don’t want to hear about it unless it costs us a W. Understood?”

A chorus of “yes, Coach” followed.

Paige didn’t exhale until she was alone in her own room. Door shut. Bag dropped. She kicked off her sneakers, pressed her back to the door, and finally let herself sit in the quiet.

Then she remembered the player roster printout — the one with room assignments, just in case noise complaints came in.

She reached for it on the dresser, unfolded it, eyes scanning casually.

Room 1121…

1123…

1125—

Her heart stuttered.

Fudd, A. – 1125

Of course she was.

Of all the rooms in all the hotels in Vegas.

Room 1125. That room.

The one with the wide windows and the velvet headboard and the memory of Azzi’s laugh wrapped around Paige’s throat like a secret.

She sat on the edge of her bed, list still in hand.

Her voice cracked the silence:

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

It wasn’t just déjà vu. It was cruel. Cosmic.

She dropped the paper onto the nightstand like it had burned her fingers.

All night she’d be haunted by it.

The knowledge that just three floors below, Azzi was sleeping in the same bed they once shared — the one Paige had walked away from like a coward. No explanation. No goodbye. Just absence.

And now, it felt like the universe was daring her to do it again.

But this time… it already felt worse.

The night moved slower than molasses and Paige couldn’t sit still.

1:07 AM.

She’d paced her room for forty-three minutes before she moved.

Put on sweats. Tied her hair up. Told herself she was just going for a walk. Just to get out of her own head. Just to stretch.

But somehow… her feet knew exactly where to go.

Now she stood in front of Room 1125. Fists clenched. Pulse hammering.

She stared at the door like it might open on its own. Like Azzi already knew she was there — already awake, waiting.

Paige almost turned around. Twice.

But then her hand lifted. And knocked.

Soft. Once. Twice.

The hallway was quiet. Too quiet. Her breath caught as footsteps approached on the other side.

A shadow moved beneath the door.

The handle turned.

The door cracked open.

Paige held her breath. And closed her eyes shut.

And then—

[taybrinaa]

Between Engines and Glances

Logan Maddox x fem!reader

Synopsis: (Y/N) returns to Ironwood after years away to uncover the truth about her missing father. In the town’s old workshop, she reunites with Logan, the man who was once both her father’s friend and rival. Amid engines, silence, and open wounds, they rebuild more than just a car.

Warning: Contains emotional language, themes of family loss, and romantic tension between characters with an age gap. No smut. Drama, nostalgia, and slow-burn romance.

Author’s note: Hey! This is my first one-shot on Tumblr after switching from Wattpad, and I’m really excited. English isn’t my first language, but I try my best. PLEASE send me one-shot requests because I’m very inspired, whether about motorheads or any fandom. Thank you so much, and I hope you like it <3 If you do, please hit the heart.

The smell of old oil and burnt metal hung in the air of the workshop. The place hadn’t changed much since (Y/N) Reyes had last seen it, over five years ago. The same tools hung on the walls, the same dust rested on the shelves, as if time in Ironwood had come to a halt. But she hadn’t. She had changed. At twenty-three, she returned a different woman, hardened by absence, by years away from the town, and by the wound that had never healed: her father's disappearance.

Logan Maddox had his back to the entrance, crouched next to a disassembled engine. The clang of a wrench stopped when he heard footsteps. He turned, and his gray eyes met hers. He had aged, of course, but still had that solid, steady presence that sent a chill down her spine. He had something more now. Maturity. Silence in his gaze. Something built over time... and through loss.

“I thought you’d never come back—at least not for a few more years,” Logan said, wiping his hands with a dirty rag.

“I thought so too,” she replied, folding her arms. “But I’m not here for nostalgia. I need your help.”

Logan set the rag aside and stood up. He was taller than she remembered, stronger, but also more worn.

“What kind of help?”

(Y/N) pulled an old, rusted key—a heavy iron cylinder—out of her bag. Logan frowned when he recognized it.

“That’s the engine from my dad’s Charger. I found it in a junkyard up north. It’s in pieces, but I think there’s something in it. Something that can tell me what happened to him.”

Logan didn’t answer right away. His jaw tightened, as if holding back words he didn’t want to say.

“And what makes you think I want to dig all that up?”

“It’s not about what you want, Logan. It’s about what I need. You were his rival, but you were also his friend. You know things. And you know cars. If anyone can get that engine running, it’s you.”

The silence between them thickened, heavy with the past. Finally, Logan gave a curt nod.

“Bring it in tomorrow. We’ll take a look.”

Weeks passed.

The engine arrived the next day after that conversation, and over the following days—and then weeks—(Y/N) and Logan worked side by side in the shop. At first, everything was tense. Their movements were mechanical, their words short. But over time, that tension shifted into something else—something harder to name.

Logan, though reluctant at first, threw himself into the work with near-obsessive focus. (Y/N) wasn’t far behind. Though she didn’t have his experience, her determination was undeniable. She learned quickly, dirtying her hands, wrenching bolts, covering her face in soot. Logan watched her in silence when he thought she wasn’t looking.

“You work just like your father,” Logan murmured one night, as she struggled to unscrew a housing, jaw clenched.

She glanced at him sideways, a mix of pride and pain in her eyes.

“I wish I had his answers too.”

There were nights they shared cold beer and old music playing in the background. He told her stories of past races, of how the roar of an engine could say more than a thousand words. She listened closely, discovering a man who wasn’t as unreachable as she’d remembered from childhood.

Sometimes they argued. She was impulsive, stubborn, explosive. Logan was quiet, blunt, direct. But in those clashes, in those sparks, something grew. A brush of hands when he passed her a tool. A glance when she fixed something on her own. Silences that said more than any conversation.

One night, while a thunderstorm roared outside, Logan turned on a portable lamp and they both sat on the floor in front of the open engine block. The air smelled of wet earth and metal. She hugged her knees, exhausted.

“Your father…” Logan began, his voice low and rough. “He was impulsive. And proud. Like you.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Is that a compliment or a warning?”

He gave a small, lopsided smile.

“A bit of both.”

She looked down, fingers playing with a bolt.

“I never thought I’d come back here. Let alone end up… with you, in a workshop, chasing ghosts.”

“You’re not the only one who didn’t expect this,” Logan said, and his gaze lingered on her longer than it should have.

The silence between them slowed, heavy. And then, as if fate nudged them, she pulled out the carburetor filter and noticed something strange. A compartment sealed with electrical tape. Logan knelt beside her. Together, they opened it.

Inside was an envelope.

(Y/N) held it in trembling hands. She opened it. Papers: bank accounts, coordinates, names. And a note in her father’s handwriting:

"If something happens to me, Logan knows why."

Her heart stopped.

She stood up abruptly, envelope in hand, eyes blazing with betrayal.

“What does this mean?”

Logan didn’t move. Didn’t look at her at first.

“It means he didn’t want you involved. He thought that if I pushed you away, you’d be safe.”

“You pushed me away on purpose?”

Logan finally looked at her. His eyes held no defense—just sadness. A deep, real sadness.

“I promised him. I said I’d protect you if something happened. But I didn’t know how to do that without making you hate me.”

“So you lied. You made me believe he just… vanished. Abandoned me.”

Logan took a step closer. He didn’t touch her. His voice was barely a whisper.

“I couldn’t save him. But I could try to save you.”

Tears burned behind (Y/N)’s eyes, but they didn’t fall. She pressed her lips together. She wanted to scream, to shove him. But her body wouldn’t move.

“You can’t keep carrying this alone,” she said at last, without looking at him. “Not if I’m going to carry it too.”

Logan watched her for a few seconds. Then he stepped closer, slowly. She lifted her gaze. For the first time in weeks, there was no anger in her eyes. Just pain. And something deeper. Something that had always been there, growing with each touch, each silence.

“(Y/N)…” he murmured, a mix of longing and fear in his voice. “I’m not the kind of guy who—”

“Shut up, Logan.”

And she kissed him.

The kiss was soft at first, like a test. Their lips barely brushed, timid and trembling. But when Logan lifted his hand to her face and held it gently, everything broke. They kissed like the world was ending. Like redemption could be found between their lips. Their bodies drew closer—hesitant at first, then certain. She clutched his shirt; he wrapped his arms around her waist with a need bottled up for years. And time stood still.

There was nothing but them. The workshop. The rain pounding on the roof. And two broken hearts finding each other in the middle of the storm.

Weeks later, when all the pieces had been cleaned and reassembled, the Charger roared back to life. She and Logan stood in silence, listening to the sound of the engine. There was something poetic in it—rebuilding the heart of something that had been broken for so long.

But it wasn’t just the car. It was them.

(Y/N) had followed the clues in the papers and confirmed what she had feared deep down. Her father had died. He had given his life to make a deal with dangerous people, settle debts, and keep her out of harm’s way. His sacrifice had been his way of protecting her. And Logan had covered for him—for the same reason.

That truth didn’t bring peace, but it brought answers. Closure.

One morning, instead of packing her things to leave, (Y/N) showed up early at the workshop. Logan was already there, as usual. She stood in the doorway, the Charger’s keys dangling from her finger.

“I’m staying,” she said bluntly.

Logan looked up, eyebrows slightly raised.

“You sure?”

She nodded.

“There are things I need to fix here. And I don’t just mean cars.”

Logan gave her a small smile, that serene expression he wore when something hurt and felt good at the same time.

“Then welcome home.”

She walked up to him. Kissed him. This time with no storm, no engines roaring. Just the soft warmth of midday light streaming through the window.

Ironwood wasn’t what she had lost. It was what she could still build.

And Logan… Logan was part of that.

don't forget to send me any requests for another character, I'm open!