#that truly deserve more recognition than they get

[andromeda3116]

this post is going around again, but without this addition, but it kinda makes me want to come back and talk about the space bureaucracy scene

like so many people are just "wtf is this doing here" about it, but as soon as you read it through the lens of "this is a story about capitalism taken to its utmost extreme" you realize that that scene is fucking brilliant

because of course that's where this line ends for everyone else in the system who isn't the upper class or the prey class: trapped in a boring web of paperwork and red tape that looks like trying to do something like, oh, change your legal gender in modern america because you are nothing but a cog in the machine and cogs in the machine have to jump through 873000 hoops to prove their identity

the end result of hyper-capitalism is a glitterati class farming people to get more time for themselves, while everyone else has to live in the most underfunded dmv you've ever seen, because they don't even matter enough to be targets

it's a nightmare, and it's not even an interesting one

okay but some of the ideas in jupiter ascending are literally so galaxy-brained? like, the concept that capitalism taken to its utmost extreme would result in a "superior" (read: ultra-wealthy) class exploiting whole planets of people for their own gain? the way that the three siblings play off each other, when you're ultimately left like "shit man at least balem fucking told her he wanted her dead even though he had some seriously fucked-up emotions regarding his dead mother like holy shit can you say oedipus complex my god". but the sister is like, "the ultimate resource, the only one that matters, is more time" and that's a profound concept and also again so horrifically accurate and dystopian because she's literally stealing time from not just people but whole planets' worth of people, and has been for thousands of years, they've grown them for this purpose and of course that would be elon musk's fucking wet dream, to be able to buy himself more time, and while i don't think he or anyone else would just like. immediately jump to "kill whole planets for it" i also think that if he felt like that was the only way, he would be like "it's the Greater Good. i have Unlocked Immortality For The Human Race" and be totally blind to the fact that it was only for the rich ones, on the backs of everyone else. and yet she's still nice? just because you're a genocidal self-serving ultra-capitalist immortal monster doesn't mean you have to be a jerk about it. which is so. how the human condition works?

and yet this movie also has "bees can sense royalty" and whatever the fuck was going on with channing tatum's character and a wooden (yet somehow refreshingly horny*) love story and an exhaustingly-long chase scene that could have been thirty seconds and the Great Disappearing Sean Bean Daughter and

like it's somehow simultaneously "terrible idea, flawless execution" and "flawless idea, terrible execution"

(*in contrast to the "everyone is beautiful, no one is horny" trope, channing tatum looks like a snack and by god is mila kunis ready to eat him)

[umehaji]

— 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓;

☾ Content: popstar f!reader much more famous than your pro volleyball player boyfriend- you finally hard launch your relationship on instagram but the public reaction isn't what you expect, so you take matters into your own hands

ft. Ushijima Wakatoshi, Hinata Shouyou, Miya Atsumu, Bokuto Koutarou, Kageyama Tobio

☾ A/N: inspired by dua lipa and callum turner and my girl sabrina

— 𝐔𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐚 𝐖𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢;

Ushijima doesn't even have an instagram, naturally. the closest thing is he's got is his team's account, curated and managed by the PR team. so when you wiggle your phone in front of him to show him the chosen piece for your account, he just gives it a cursory glance and nods. the photo is from backstage at one of your concerts earlier this month: you, glowing with joy, arm slung casually around his neck, leaning into him as you beam up at him with a smile that could light up your stadiums. he's got one arm wrapped securely around your waist, usual stoic expression softened by a warmth in his eyes as he gazes down at you- one that only you seem to be able to draw out of him.

but the reactions to your post are swift and crushing. you're beyond proud of Ushijima- proud of his quiet strength, his dedication, his raw talent. you know you shouldn’t and it shouldn’t—doesn’t—matter, but your thumb keeps scrolling through the comments. each one feels like a knife twisting deeper, a personal attack, particularly the ones suggesting he doesn't care, that he looks like he's got the emotional depth of a spoon, that this is all just a PR move somehow. watching the sweetest man you know not get the recognition he truly deserves hurts more than you want to admit.

ᯓ🏐

when Ushijima steps into your shared bedroom, shirtless, his hair still damp from a post-workout shower and sweatpants slung low on his hips, his gaze finds you sitting at your vanity. the soft light of the mirror highlights your delicate features, casting a warm glow over your pretty face.

"toshi," you greet him warmly, turning toward him with an inviting smile. he pads over to you, barefoot, and you tilt your chin up expectantly. he rests one hand on the back of your chair, the other on the edge of your desk and leans down, capturing your lips in a long, slow kiss, his head tilting to deepen it as he lifts a hand to your cheek, gently smoothing his thumb across your soft skin before drawing back, a small smile curving up on his lips when he sees the dazed look in your eyes.

"morning, love." he says simply, before walking off to the kitchen to make himself a protein shake. completely oblivious to the phone propped up against your mirror, the livestream on the screen, and the chaos that you've just unleashed within your fanbase.

readerfanatic_official joined popicon4life just fell to my knees screaming in the 711 parking lot platinum_readerstan she's dating a TREE tinyreader777 'morning love'???...our queen is built different i would've evaporated on the spot bipbop_23 ...i get it now readerfan2024 guess i'm into volleyball now glitznglamfan girl i'm scared for ur holes

— 𝐇𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐲𝐨𝐮;

it's a cute photo: the two of you on a beach at a resort, there for one of Oikawa's games. Hinata's got his head in your lap, one of your hands gently running through his messy orange hair while your other hand rests on his chest. you're gazing out at the sea, a serene smile gracing your face as you enjoy the view, while Hinata looks up at you, equally captivated by what he sees.

the comments that flood in are anything but kind. most of them poke fun at his height, with fans wondering how he managed to catch your eye when he's fighting gravity every day, others insisting that he must just be very funny. and it doesn’t bother Hinata at all, not that you can tell- he just scratches the back of his head and laughs, exclaiming that it's nothing he hasn't heard before, that he’ll just have to work twice as hard to earn your fans’ approval. ignoring your protests that he has nothing to prove.

ᯓ🏐

a few eagle-eyed fans are the first ones to notice it and not long after, screenshots of your activity start to circulate. first it's you liking an edit of Hinata lifting his shirt during ones of his games to wipe sweat off his brow. then it's a clip of him leaping into the air, showing off his energy and athleticism. a third like is a snapshot of Hinata celebrating a victory, fists clenched and knees bent, muscles in his thighs flexed as he roars with triumph.

the one that nips it in the bud is when you share a post to your story. it’s a reel- a compilation of Hinata’s spikes, his raw energy and unstoppable power lighting up the court as he slams the ball past his opponents. your fans lose it when you post a mirror selfie on the same day: you've got your back turned toward the mirror, all dolled up for an award ceremony in a gown that leaves nothing and everything to the imagination. you look good, accentuated by the man at your side who, unlike you, is facing the mirror. but Hinata isn't looking at the camera- his heated gaze is on your reflection instead. one of his arms is curved loosely around your waist, hand resting just above your ass.

the internet goes wild.

mvpmichelle8 2h 385 likes our girl is thirsting publicly on main i respect it robsessed247 2h 306 likes rip to her ass cheeks keanue_433 2h 243 likes ...what team does he play for again stanacctreader 1h 178 likes she got herself a short KING FR newvolley_98 1h 85 likes so when’s the next game where you get a front-row seat to his… spikes? 🥵

— 𝐌𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐀𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮;

you don’t exactly share the photo yourself, but it might as well be yours. when Vogue posts the cover shot and tags you, it goes viral almost instantly. because Atsumu is seated in a luxurious chair, looking every bit like a king in his perfectly tailored suit, legs spread confidently, an air of dominance about him. you're perched on the armrest beside him, the slit of your black dress exposing the smooth curves of your body. one of your hands is loosely intertwined with his, resting on your thigh. the chemistry is palpable, electric. the sultry confidence in your posture paired with the intensity in Atsumu's gaze makes it impossible to look away. paired with the article about your relationship, this is a power couple at its finest.

or at least so you think.

the opinions of your fans are mixed, but those who disapprove don't hold back. they say that he must be cheating on you, that he looks untrustworthy, that his self-assured interview quotes only highlight how self-absorbed he is, implying he’s too consumed with himself to ever treat you right. Atsumu's ready to fight everyone questioning his devotion to you before you remind him that he can’t spend all day replying to hate comments- he has practice, and that you’ll handle it.

ᯓ🏐

you show up to the world championship that month with your entourage in tow. you visit Atsumu in his locker room to wish him good luck, ignoring the way his teammates trip over themselves gaping at you. he almost doesn’t let you leave, seizing you in a deep kiss that leaves you a little unsteady on your feet, but you plan a firm hand on his chest because you have places to be, a job to do.

when Atsumu steps up to serve and you watch as his routine unfolds, the familiar movements flowing effortlessly, your PR team is at the ready. his signature has evolved since his early days, the fist still a familiar gesture, but now his index finger uncurls at the last moment, pointing into the crowd. he doesn’t need to look; he always knows exactly where you are. but today, it’s different. you’re not in the shadows, hiding behind sunglasses or a baseball cap. today, you’re wearing his jersey, sitting front and center, in the best seat in the house. you’re clapping louder than anyone else, beaming so hard your cheeks hurt.

this time, when he finds you in the crowd, the whole world is watching.

Us Weekly: Atsumu Miya Makes History with Serve: Fans Go Wild over Major 'Couple Goals' Moment at the World Championship Buzzfeed: Is He Pointing to Y/N? 10 Moments Atsumu Miya Was Literally Screaming 'I Love You' Sports Illustrated: Atsumu Miya’s Serve Gets Personal: The Unspoken Gesture You Didn’t Know Was for Y/N Kyodo News: Fans Flock to See Miya Atsumu's Relationship with Global Sensation Y/N in Full View Cosmopolitan: Y/N and Atsumu Miya: From Music Charts to Volleyball Courts—Their Love Story (Exclusive)

— 𝐁𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐊𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮;

what you think is a beautiful moment, your fans interpret quite differently. in the photo you post, Bokuto's strong arms are wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him as he hugs you from behind. his hands are positioned low on your abdomen, fingers spread wide and pressing down lightly, a playful gesture that has you squirming in response. the candid shot your manager took captures you in mid-laugh. you're tilting away from him, hands gripping his wrists, body twisted in a half-escape as though you're trying to dodge his ticklish touch. Bokuto's lips are pressed softly to the side of your neck, the curve of your shoulder partly obscuring his face. his expression is partially hidden, but the corner of his mischievous grin peeks out, his eyes glinting at the camera as he looks up right at that moment.

your fans tear him apart, their words dripping with criticism- accusing him of being too touchy, claiming that you don’t want him like that, that he's too obsessed, too forward. the comments flood in, one after another, each one more biting than the last. the relentless stream of negativity cuts deep, and you can see the toll it takes on Bokuto as he scrolls on his phone with a downtrodden look. you tell him to ignore it, that he has nothing to worry about, but you can tell it does little to lift his spirits.

ᯓ🏐

you show him that night just how deeply you care about him, straddling his lap and gently cupping his face in your hands. your lips meet his in a soft, reverent kiss, a silent exchange that you hope conveys volumes. you murmur against his mouth, telling him how perfect he is, watching with a quiet smile as the tips of his ears go red. but then he shifts, flipping you over on the bed, caging you in with thick arms all while still blushing so prettily. and when you feel something hard and big pressing against your inner thigh, you wonder what you've gotten yourself into.

Bokuto goes even redder the next day when he wakes up to incessant texting from his teammates and he opens social media to find a photo on your feed: it's of him shirtless, lying on his front and cradling a pillow with his cheek smooshed into it, his hair down and expression peaceful. what's not so peaceful is the view of his bare back- red streaks running down his tanned skin, unmistakably from your fingers. the white sheets thrown over his legs obscure anything from the waist down but his face flushes deeper as he takes in the rest of the intimate scene.

you've got one hand resting gently on his head, fingers woven loosely in his hair, thumb caressing his cheek mid-stroke. it's soft, casual, possessive.

fan_gurl_4 1h 403 likes the way we thought HE was the obsessed one...how the turn tables bobfriend_76 1h 386 likes she's marking her territory glamjam69 1h 207 likes ...this ain't demure or mindful at all menin4k22 45m 146 likes ma’am for science, p-please remove those sheets readerfan234 14m 121 likes the way she's touching him...i need a moment to grieve 😩

— 𝐊𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐨;

the release party for your new album goes off without a hitch, and you score tons of cute photos with Kageyama, cuddling up to him that night to scroll through and select the best ones. your top choice is one of the more simple shots: you, with one hand resting on his chest, leaning into the arm he’s wrapped around your waist. his long fingers were hot against your skin through the delicate fabric of your dress, and you swear you can still feel the imprints of them. he's serious in the shot, his lips set in a stern line as he gazes into the camera, but you adore that look on him. especially when that same gaze shifts to you, hinting at something deeper, something darker, waiting for later.

your fans, however, don't see what you do. so you wake up to a barrage of comments, about how he looks boring, how he probably doesn't know a single one of your lyrics, how you could do so much better. naturally, Kageyama doesn't give a single shit as to what your fans think about him. just kisses you goodbye and heads off to practice, duffel bag slung over his broad shoulder. but you care.

ᯓ🏐

it takes a fair amount of convincing and a hefty dose of bribery, which somehow includes you securing an advertisement contract with one of Kageyama's favorite yogurt brands, but he finally agrees to appear in the music video for your latest hit. though, you can't help but think it had more to do with you casually hinting that your company had intended on pulling in one of the hottest actors currently on the scene, known for making girls swoon at meet-and-greets.

he plays a cop arresting you for a string of crimes you commit in the name of revenge on your cheating ex, culminating in him pushing you down in the backseat of his patrol car. it's hot, steamy, and when he shoves his knee between your legs, leaning over you with one hand pinning your wrists above your head, you won't deny that you make a mental note to recreate this scene later, without the cameras.

the music video shatters records and skyrockets to the top of the charts.

and the comments this time? well. they speak for themselves.

bops234 • 1 day ago this awakened something in me fando23 • 12 hours ago i'm going to need this man's @ immediately barkbarkbark_89 • 12 hours ago are we sure he doesn't want to switch career paths stanacctreader • 10 hours ago i thought he was just a plain slice of milk bread but boy was i wrong freedomsings145 1h • 5 hours ago casting your real life boyfriend as the main romantic lead in your music video is such a power move, as always our queen's taste is IMPECCABLE atsumumiya • 2 hours ago he looks like a foot

[ohodie]

SECOND THAT

luke castellan x reader

★ “i’m restless, i’m wrestling with the song that you love, it’s been stuck in my head”

ABOUT - luke castellan is the only one at camp who sees right through your perfect and poised persona; and all he wants is the satisfaction of ruining it.

WARNINGS - smut, mentions of choking, both the reader and luke are TERRIBLE but luke is much worse lol, swearing, written from the perspective of a deranged luke, penetration, only loosely proofread.

A/N- i have NEVER written and posted smut before EVER. like i get close but i never go all out. so… no hate guys 😘 also i feel like this is a bit ooc for luke so just pretend he’s actually insane and terrible guys!!! if you ignore his incoherent ramblings, it’s PWOP sooo… anyways this might be the first and last time i ever write smut who knows

luke castellan is no amateur when it comes to pretending to be something else. growing up, the only thing that mattered to luke was receiving praise or recognition for being ‘great’ or ‘honourable’ or whatever.

when you live your whole life pretending to be a perfect person, you kinda start to believe you really are a perfect person.

and if everyone you meet also believes you are indeed a perfect person, what’s the harm in continuing to pretend?

at the end of the day, both parties gain something. you get the validation and acclaim that you truly deserve, and they get a role model they aspire to at least halfway resemble.

luke is the sweetest guy at camp- everyone loves him. and he deserves it, doesn’t he? he deserves their praise and love and respect. gods, he should be rewarded for pretending to be so admirable for so long. he’s entitled to it.

you, on the other hand? you don’t. you don’t deserve an ounce of the praise luke has worked so hard to receive.

to luke, you’re vermin. behind your polite smiles and sweet words, there’s darkness. there’s an evil lurking within you- he’s sure of it.

he sees it during early morning sparring sessions, watching from the wings while you tactfully dodge every attack that comes your way. and when you eventually falter, he sees how your eyes turn cold and your smile fades.

he sees how you take a shaky breath, brushing yourself off with your bony hands before flashing a toothy grin. he feels nauseous when you extend your arm out to shake the hand of your opponent- because how the fuck can they believe your little act?

your gentle kindness and bashful charisma is so obviously fake. of course, he’s not pissed that you’re acting; everyone at camp is acting to an extent. but you’re going all out, and he can still see through it. what pisses him off, is that nobody else seems to recognise how truly malicious you can be.

maybe it’s because you’re pretty. luke is no stranger to getting special treatment based on his appearance, and neither should you be. maybe that’s the whole basis of your appeal. it seems to be the only thing holding your pathetic little facade together, considering your sloppy acting skills.

if you were ugly everyone would be able to call out your bullshit straight away, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about sharing the spotlight. honestly, the only reason why everyone loves you so much is because half of them want to fuck you, and the other half want your attention or approval- not that it’d be worth anything.

it was the last week of spring, meaning only the year-rounders and a few of the older kids were at camp. you just graduated high school, and arrived at camp early.

of course, you just had to return to camp prettier, taller, more confident, and with a fancy college acceptance letter. maybe you were much smarter than you let on- but it became very apparent that your intelligence wasn’t the reason you got accepted into NYU once he learned what you were studying.

“oh, i’m getting a degree in art history,”

seriously? art history? that’s gotta be the funniest thing luke has ever heard in his entire life.

“really? why art history?” he asks politely, watching your every move as he awaits your dumbass explanation.

you shrug cheerfully, looking around at the few other campers scattered around in a tight-knit circle as they wait for you to tell them about your ‘lovely’ 18th birthday and ‘eventful’ senior year.

“i don’t know, my mum works with a lot of artists, so she said it’d be a good conversation starter,” you say cheerfully, as if it wasn’t the stupidest thing to ever exit your mouth.

luke can’t help but let out a little giggle, before instantly lowering his head to offer some non-verbal apology. but to his surprise, you laugh along. “yeah, i really wanna score a job at the MET or something. i don’t mind either way,”

luke nods politely, letting the conversation continue without interrupting with a snide comment or unsolicited laughter.

he plays along as the conversation continues, pretending he doesn’t want to grab you by the throat and push you against the wall, demanding you to confess. demanding you to tell the fucking truth; that you’re a manipulative sycophant who’s bound to end up in rehab for getting addicted to designer drugs.

why is he the only one that sees you for who you truly are? gods, if he knew any better he might be charmed. you were naturally picturesque- or at least you seemed to be. the way that you were sitting on the grass with your hair draping over your body; you looked gorgeous. but you always look gorgeous, that’s your best quality after all.

of course all of camp half-blood was fooled- you were to pretty and kind to be lying. maybe it was better to let them keep on believing that you were this perfect image of a girl.

but he’d still appreciate the satisfaction of seeing you for who you are- seeing you in your rawest form.

and then suddenly, he saw it. some athena girl asked you if you wanted to go on a run with her later, to which you politely declined. of course, you kept your composure, told her that you had to take a nap, offered her a sympathetic smile and a ‘maybe next time’. but she didn’t see the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head as soon as she looked away.

luke was astonished. you really were getting sloppy, huh?

and yet, nobody else saw it. nobody else saw the look of disgust on your face as soon as she finished talking. he was seething- how on earth could everyone be so blind?

luke looks around at the group of people surrounding him, his eyes darting back to you ever 5 or 10 seconds. they all look at you with awe- as if you’re the most precious thing on earth.

fuck that. he was going to put you in your place.

a few hours pass, and it was finally time for everyone to walk back to their cabins.

luke spots you walking alone to your cabin, your face dimly lit by the moon as it shines over the camp. he’s so overwhelmed with anger, he couldn’t fathom caring about the consequences of whatever situation he was about to put himself in.

he quickly catches up to you, meeting your walking pace as he shoots you a friendly smile.

“hey, y/n. you got a minute?” luke asks, still adorning that charming smile. you smile back at him, nodding your head ever so gently, as if it would fall off if you moved it too fast. like a rusty elvis bobble head bought 1976 that resides on the dash of your grandmother’s busted car.

“yeah, why?” you hold your hands behind your back as you walk beside him, slowly approaching your empty cabin. luke shrugs his shoulders. “oh, i just had a little question. mind if we talk in your cabin?” he asks.

you nod, opening the door for luke and letting him walk through. you close the door behind him, before leaning your back against the wall. luke stands in front of you, his cheery demeanour vanishing as he crosses his arms.

“why the fuck are you such a little bitch all the time?”

you furrow your brows, mirroring his posture as you cross your arms defensively. “excuse me?”

luke rolls his eyes, letting out dry laughter as he looks you up and down. “you heard me,” he adds, watching you anxiously begin to pick at your lips with your freshly manicured fingernails.

“do you have a problem with me or something?” your whole body feels tense as you continue picking at your lips, your eyes locked onto his.

“yeah, i do have a problem. i’m tired of your little ‘nice girl’ act. it’s getting fucking annoying,” luke scoffed, taking a step closer towards you. your eyes darken, before shaking away your hostile expression.

“are you sure you wanna do this right now, castellan?”

“is that a threat?”

you pull your fingertips away from your lips, shifting your weight to the other side of your body as you cross your arms once more. you let silence fill the room before finally speaking up.

“listen, luke. everyone pretends to be someone they’re not. you and i just tend to do it more than others-“

luke cuts your off, taking another step forwards. “fuck off, we are not the same.”

you roll your eyes, banging your head against the wall as you groan irritably. “so what? are you gonna go around spreading cheap lies about me now?” you ask tiredly. luke shakes his head, slightly shrugging his shoulders.

“nah.” he replies curtly, his voice blunt and expression vague. “mkay, then what the fuck is your problem?”

luke takes another quick step forward, tightly holding your chin in his hand as he lifts your head to face him. “you’re my fucking problem.”

you let out a dry laugh, staring into his eyes as you attempt to intimidate him. “you’re such a loser.” you whisper, refusing to fight back against the way he’s gripping your face.

he stays silent, biting his lip as he looks over your form. “and you’re a brat.” he retorts.

“are we just going to keep throwing insults back and forth all night, or are you gonna explain why you’re so obsessed with me?” you ask playfully, cupping his face in your hand as an attempt to patronise him.

luke is stumped. to be fair, he is entirely obsessed with you. and he has been for years now. and now he has you cornered, watching your weak attempts at asserting dominance over him.

luke was over it.

suddenly, luke leans in, harshly pressing his lips against yours. you retract your hand from his face, pressing it against the wall as you feel his body moving towards you.

he wraps his other hand around your neck, only gently gripping it as to not alarm you.

luke is surprised by how you sink into his grip, pulling away to see your closed eyes and swollen lips. when you wipe your mouth and look at him with those hauntingly innocent eyes, he’s almost fooled.

you scoff, smirking as you tear away from his grip and take a few steps back. “is that all you wanted?” you say confidently, watching him turn around to watch you carefully pace around the room.

he shakes his head, groaning quietly as he walks over to you once more.

luke purses his lips, trying to suppress any sense of genuine attraction to you. but when his eyes gaze over to your red lips and flushed cheeks, he can’t help but let his mind wander.

“if you’re done, you can leave, castellan.” you say irritably, leaning against your bed frame.

it goes straight to his dick when you call him that, especially when your voice sounds so hoarse and cocky. he feels as though he’s finally accomplished what he’s been yearning to do for years now. he’s seeing the real you.

he couldn’t dare squander this opportunity now.

he pushes you down onto your bed, watching how your hair flows over your newly made bedsheets as your head hits the pillow.

“but you don’t want me to leave, do you?” luke says lowly, hovering over your body as his hand hold your wrists together above your head.

“i don’t care what you do, castellan.”

luke groans, pressing another rough kiss against your lips. you kiss back for whatever reason, and your firsts relax within his grip. it was almost as if you got off on the idea of someone calling out your bullshit. or maybe you got off on the idea of somewhat hating your guts. either way, luke knew you were more than eager to continue.

he let go of your wrists, before biting your bottom lip. your mouth opens slightly, offering entry to his tongue, deepening the kiss.

you hand cups his face, while the other grips his shoulder. after a few moments, he pulls away and begins sucking at the skin of your neck, leaving purple marks on your delicate skin while you let out hoarse whimpers.

his hands begin to fiddle with the fabric of your shirt, causing you to push his body forwards as you position yourself to sit on his lap. you take off your shirt, throwing it away as you run your hands down his back.

luke looks down at your chest, growing more aroused at the sight of your lacy little bra. it’s as if you knew someone was going to see it.

you feel a hardness growing from under his jeans, poking against your upper thigh as you slowly grind against his lap. luke let’s put a low moan, continuing to bury his face in your neck.

“i fucking hate you,” he growls, gripping the sides of your waist with his hands as you move against him.

“don’t care, take off your shirt,” you demand hurriedly, running your fingers through his hair as you tilt his head up to look at you.

luke rolls his eyes, before taking off his shirt. he quickly presses another series of harsh kissses against your neck, fiddling with the clasp of your bra as you push your chest up against his. you giggle softly at his incompetence, before he finally unhooks it and ravenously pulls it from your chest.

luke pushes your body backwards onto the bed, trailing kisses down from your neck and onto your tits. you let out a quiet moan, before biting down onto your hand in order to stifle the sound. his large hands knead your left breast, while the other grips the area just under your right breast, resting on top of your ribcage.

luke’s hands slowly move downwards, hip thumb tracing circles against the side of your hip as you gently grasp onto his hair. his fingertips gently pull down your shorts, leaving you in only your underwear.

he rubs his thumb over the wet fabric, before tilting his head to look up at you. “pathetic,” he mutters, smirking at your flushed faced. you groan, burying the back of your head further into the pillow as your back arches involuntarily.

luke’s thumb massages your clit from over the soaking fabric, watching you squirm in response. he lets out a dry laugh, before pulling down your panties and tossing them onto the floor.

“luke…” you moan quietly, closing your eyes as your hips jerk into the mattress. his fingers trace your wet folds, before letting his thumb rub circles against your clit and forcing two fingers inside of you.

you whimper before pursing your lips, rolling your head around as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out. he quickens his pace, pressing down harshly against your clit while beginning to suck on the skin of your upper thigh.

luke holds down your hip with his free hand as you begin to squirm.

suddenly, he stops.

you look at him with a confused expression, your face red as he pulls his fingers out. he chuckles at your disappointed face, before taking off his pants and boxers. you stare at his length unashamedly, biting down on your bottom lip.

“so fucking needy.” he says lowly, his voice horse as he softly begins to continue massaging your clit. you moan, feeling your back arch as he positions himself in front of your legs. he forcefully spreads them open as he teases your folds with the tip of his erect member.

you let out a little whine, your voice trembling as you try to move your hips against his length.

luke rolls his eyes at your poor attempts at penetration, before slowly pushing his cock into your entrance. you let out a breathy, high pitched moan, your hands eagerly gripping your bedsheets.

he gradually pushes in the entirety his length, continuing to rub circles into your clit. luke tightly grips your waist as he begins to slowly pull out, before jamming himself back in. you let out a breathy yelp as you body moves with his thrusts.

like continues relentlessly pushing in and out of you, massaging your waist as his thumb gradually increases the speed of its attack on your clit.

you try to steady you breathing, your face flushed as lukewarm continues to deliberately overwhelm your body.

“mm… luke, i’m gonna…” you mutter, your hips jerking upwards. he smiles at you, amused by how blissed out you look taking his cock. “so soon?” he teases, rapidly moving against your body.

you let out a stammering series of whimpers as your back arches upwards, feeing yourself suddenly release. luke grins, continuing to rub circles into your clit as he rides out your orgasm.

luke slowly retracts his thumb, repositioning the hand to gently grip your hip. he begins to slow down his movements, before quickly thrusting into you repetitively. you squirm, the movements of your hips constrained by his grip.

suddenly, he pulls out, releasing onto your stomach. see? he was a gentleman.

luke gazes over at the girl he just reduced to a panting mess as he stands up and puts his clothes back on. he smiles at you as he zips up his jeans, before kneeling besides you as you turn your head to look at him.

“i wont tell anyone how fucking pathetic you are, don’t worry, princess.”

you nod, staring at him as he continues to look at your defenceless body. “such a pretty girl,” he hums, cupping your face in his hand before kissing your forehead.

he reaches over to your discarded underwear and gently pulls them up your legs, the gesture acting somewhat as a peace offering. he takes a step back, simply taking in how endearingly stupid you look.

you slowly sit yourself up, grabbing your camp t shirt and putting it on. “goodnight, luke,” you choke out, your voice hoarse and breathing shallow. he nods, smiling softly as he turns to walk away. “night, princess.”

[atyourmerci]

☀︎To the light is to the darkness✩

Abby X reader X Ellie

Prologue to vengeance (can be read alone)

☀︎ ☀︎

Summary: Abby is your childhood best friend, you did everything together, taught each other everything. You were utterly infatuated with each other until Ellie Williams enters your world.

Warning: smut, MDNI, porn w lots of plot, innocence arc, mutual pining, lots of sexual tension, mutual masturbation (in the same room, together), fingering if you squint, useless lesbians, lesbian love triangle, abby needs a hug, phoebe bridgers as her own warning, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader

A/N: okay so holy fuck did I get carried away with this one. I didn’t want to leave yall on a cliffhanger but this dynamic deserves more and I don’t want to rush through it. I hope yall enjoy. This chapter is mostly just abby but there will be lots more Ellie in the next chapter promise :)

✩ ✩

“Someone you couldn’t lose. You said we’re not together, so now when we kiss I have anger issues.”

She asked when it had all started. The truth was you weren’t really sure. There was no definitive date or period of time that signified the beginning or end of it.

A relationship that felt more of interlacing two souls into one that resided in two structures. Shared autonomy of mind, breath, word, and body. Unspoken feelings, touches, and stares.

What started in green fields of pink flowers and brown roots ended in dark rooms and pining embraces. Hand shakes turning into interlaced fingers, laughter filled glances turning into tense stares, and experimental pecks turning into open mouthed pants.

The first time you meet abby was at school at 15. Bright eyed and bushy tailed still untainted from the reality of the world around you. You were quite shy in those years, keeping yourself away from the wild hairs of children ready to grow up and take charge. You were okay with the stability of childhood, the sticky sweet feeling of safety and uncharted terror.

Before Abby’s dad had died, before the muscles and long locks of golden blonde hair she was reserved too. Abby was wrapped in a bubble of comfort, a loving community that doted on her. She felt no need to join the crowd of chaos when she had everything she needed.

Well she thought she did…and then she met you.

In class you had your face shoved into a notebook doodling away of ferns and dandelions you had seen in the fields early that day. If it were up to you, you’d spend every last dying breath in the fields, soaking in sunlight and trailing your fingers through the rows of flowers.

Abby sat next to you in class, always too shy to speak up to you. You always seemed so busy, either reading, drawing, or with your head in the clouds, never truly listening to the lecture ahead. She admired your creativity, attention to detail, and the utter sense of unawareness to your surroundings. She wondered why you didn’t talk to the others, you were so inviting, so pretty. She once wished to look like you, how effortlessly magnificent you looked.

She grew too curious, over zealous at the thought of being close to you, understanding you. She knew she had to speak up.

“H-hey you draw pretty cool- I mean- it’s really good…what you draw.”

You had never taken more than a glance at the freckled girl until then. She always seemed just as busy as you, so you never bothered her.

You let out a bellied laugh at the now crimson red faced girl- completely embarrassed by her attempt at recognition.

And that was that. The two of you were inseparable, attached at the hip from then on out.

Abby seemed to understand your weird quirks and odd fascinations. Even when she didn’t, she was there open minded and wide eyed to hear your lengthy ramblings on about nothingness.

Sometimes it felt like you did most of the talking. Not that it was one sided or you wouldn’t let her butt in, but rather she was completely enamored by what you thought. Sometimes all she wanted to do was to hear you talk, you were her favorite person, the own mold of herself.

She wanted to think what you thought, feel what you felt, see the world through your eyes.

17

As the years went on you only seemed to grow closer to abby as she grew fonder of you.

Some could call it an obsession, the way you treated each other. Not a single thought went by that the other didn’t know. If you were there, so was abby. If you knew something, so did she.

Everyday she would follow you to the fields after school, your special escape you’d learn to share with the other half of your being.

You’d make her lay across the flower ridden fields so you could draw her glistening hair kissed by the whisk of wind. She let her hair grow longer since you’d ask to braid it for her every morning. She liked it short but she wanted to let you have room to make intricate designs and lace them with weeds you’d found.

Abby would playfully nudge you when you’d draw the hump on her nose in the drawings, but you loved it too much to not appreciate it. You loved all the things she couldn’t in herself.

You two spent hours out in the field daily, even when it rained you’d make her dance around like fairies as mud splattered across your shins. Anything you wanted, she’d do as long as it was with you.

That’s when you asked her to try kissing, she’d obliged.

“Have you ever…kissed anyone?” You ask staring off into the cloud painted sky, tall grass framing your bodies.

She lets out a breathy giggle, “no… you would know if I did.”

You shrug, shoulder crashing gently into hers, “I don’t know, maybe it was too embarrassing to say.”

She trails off, “h-have you?”

“No dumbass you would know…” you push your shoulder into her turning to give her a toothy smile, “what if I’m not good when a boy kisses me?”

Her eyes remained trained onto the pillowy cloud, “you can try on me- I-if you want to.”

It was a good idea, she wasn’t going to judge you, she was your best friend, she was only there to help.

“Okay.” And without a second thought your upper body shot up and lent over hers, pressing your lips into her plush pink ones. It was gentle, only a placement amongst the flesh, yet so charged. Butterflies fluttered through your stomach and up to your throat, something you had only felt once before when you and abby went swimming.

Closeness you thought. Being close to someone causes that. How nice it was to be so close to your favorite person, maybe one day you could feel close to someone again.

After that you continued to experiment kissing. At sleepovers you’d talk about the boys you wanted to kiss, then show each other how you would kiss them. It turned into an innocent routine, pecking her before she would leave, kissing her in the fields when you felt the butterflies.

You’d told her about them- the fluttering in your stomach. Whenever you felt them she told you that she wanted to feel them too. Transferring them through the soft pink flesh, she’d say she’d feel them after.

Soon she’d tell you when she got them, to which you’d return the gesture back. As time went on, the butterflies came more often.

People were starting to notice the relationship, started talking about how close the two of you were. You’d shoo off the irrational comments and over zealous accusations, but abby never did. She just didn’t respond.

“Who am I to ask for more? But you’re breathing in my open mouth. You’re the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out.”

18

Abby started spending the night daily, she practically lived in your room at that point. After her dad died your relationship grew stronger than ever. In such a treacherous time she clung to the only person who truly understood her. Many a nights she spent huddled into a ball in your lap weeping as you smoothed the hair behind her ear and rubbing circles into the grown muscles in her back.

Abby had taken to working her emotions out in physical labor. Now being a solider full time out of school she had grown muscular and more rough. Her heart was still the same for you, but had grown caged off to the people around you.

Her pleasantries for the rest of the community had grown stale, only allowing a few to get near her. But you… there was always an indefinite spot inside her for you.

Since abby was always around now, in the darkness of every night, privacy had flown right out the window. Not that you had minded- there wasn’t much of really anything abby didn’t know or hadn’t seen.

But when that eery sense of familiarity crept up, when the butterflies would come at night.

She had started out sleeping on the extra bed in your room. Before she had practically moved in she’d sleep with you, but since her stay turned to no vacancy she’d taken to given you the last sense of space, even when you hadn’t asked.

In the middle of darkness as the crickets chirped outside the window you’d tell her the feeling had come back, and she’d always agree, and the room would fall silent again.

“Abby?” You call out to a darkened room, illuminated by the shine of the moon.

“Yeah?” She’d call back from the other side.

“Do you ever…fix the feelings of the butterflies. Like make them go away?”

“Uh yeah- sometimes…when it gets bad.”

“I think mine are…bad right now,” it felt embarrassing almost, there was nothing she could do to help, fix your issue. Transferring the butterflies to abby only made them worse sometimes, and you were boiling.

“M-mine too,” she admits.

“You can fix it- if you need to.”

“A-re you going to stop yours?”

“Is that okay?” You say reluctantly into the tense air coating you. Every slight move felt with a million nerves.

“Mhmm,” she responds, a rustling heard coming from her direction.

Soft hums filled the air from the feeling of release you had allowed yourself in the presence of your best friend. Abby’s breathy moans would only follow quickly after your own, never before.

Dual release become a routine. Allowing the sticky sweet sensations of climaxing in the same bedroom of your other half. It became another thing you shared with her, another check on the list of the endeavors you’d participated in with her.

Talks of the butterflies and the unleashing of them never left those four chipping walls. Some things were meant for just Abby’s ears. All best friends must do the same. You’d never heard of others talk of sorts so you sealed your lips, a secret kept like a bird in a cage.

As you both had grown accustomed to the routine things gradually got more intense. Sometimes you couldn’t get the butterflies to fly away even when you tried for hours, panting out whimpers of frustration. Even when they would go away sometimes they would crept back in immediately, your body unable to be satiated.

Abby begun sleeping in the bed with you, to calm the frustrating unnerve you felt after no avail. She’d tell you she wish she could help you, make them go away. She’d do anything to make you happy.

That’s when you started touching yourselves next to each other. The routine was upheld for so long that it felt natural to do it even when she was right next to you. First fully covered, then in undergarments, to finally completely bare.

Seeing Abby’s bare flesh only made it worse. You weren’t stupid, the pieces were falling into place before your eyes. But you hadn’t seen anyone else naked before, maybe it would be the same. Her flesh so pale, her nipples shades of pale pink roses, and the hair that trailed down to her folds as golden as wheat. You had never seen something so magnificent, so beautifully crafted.

That was something you didn’t share with her. The drawings of her bare flesh. You made sure to memorize each chisel, line, and freckle to be as accurate as possible once you got to your notebook. With every piece of her revealed opening thousands of opportunities to draw her art. She was so fucking beautiful.

“When was the first time?” The auburn girl had asked you.

It all had meshed into a blur, what had happened and when it did. When you and abby had started sleeping together it started on opposite ends. Heat not close enough to sting your flesh but the air still tense enough to be cut clean with a blade. As time grew on and the routine becoming daily, the space between you started to close in. Knees brushing as your legs wavered, arms transferring sticky sweat in the blistering heat of arousal.

The inevitable placement of foreheads touching as you watched each other fall apart, watching the butterflies flutter out of her throat with every pant.

From what you could call the ‘beginning’ of sorts, rather an act of mercy, came from her.

You found yourself in the familiar position of unnerve. Rubbing aimless quick circles on your abused clit. It became a matter of principle at the point, needing to fulfill the urge even knowing the outcome would leave you more helpless than before. Abby’s butterflies were far gone, now rubbing lazy stripes down her slit in attempt to not let you feel alone. She never wanted you to feel like she wasn’t completely enthralled by your every move.

Your leg sprawled across her own, wide open, bucking your hips into the air as you let out frustrated grunts, eyes sealed shut in concentration. She just watched. She loved watching you touch yourself. Abby felt like the luckiest girl in the world getting to watch you, kiss you, feel you. She wanted to feel more of you, every atom in your body she’d kiss if you’d allow it.

“Let me help” she said, eyes trained on your open mouth.

Your brain was too fuzzy to even comprehend the depth of the act, so pent up and eager.

“Mhmm,” was all you could muster up. As her calloused fingers transferred from her skin to your abdomen, your body jolted up. You had never been touched by another. Not like this. She took her time running the tips of her fingers from your side to the mound, taking your hand and moving it your thigh so she could replace it with her own.

Something deep in your belly erupted when you felt her fingers meet your clit. A flock of doves released from their cage, a gasping goldfish meeting water. An exaggerated sigh of relief came out as a depraved moan. Every nerve in your body heightened by her gentle touch.

She drew cautious and attentive swipes across the newly swollen bud, watching for when your breath would hitch.

“You’re so warm,” she said studying your face as it contorted in pleasure. Your chin raised high, burying your scalp into the frilly pillows below. She had then studied the flesh around your neck, oh why had she never noticed that. How thin the skin was there, how close she could get to you in that space.

“I-it feels b-better when you do it,” you admit to her, water in her hands, hips grinding into the soft touch of her. “Y-yeah really?” She says, perking up, so pleased with knowing she could make you feel better. She’d do anything to make you feel better.

You let your stagnant hand run down her chiseled chest to meet her mound, her sticky slit pooling at her core. You meant to return the favor, an eye for an eye. “It’s okay- just let me help you.”

You shook your head in agreement, but let your hand rest on the pulsing flesh, you wanted to feel her like she felt you.

With every gentle circle she took you closer to release. It was so much faster when she did it. When you did it together before you would lie there for hours flicking at the raw skin to no avail, but in minutes she had you tipping at your edge.

Her strokes felt akin to the ones on your notebook, gentle and cautious direction, seeking a desirable outcome. You’d thought to picture this, able to recreate this on paper shielded from her eyes. What would she think if she saw them? Maybe you’d grown too fond of the other half of your heart.

“Abby!” You scream out, nearing your pending release.

“Y-yeah? D-does it feel okay- are you okay?” She perks up in concern, helplessly worried she had hurt you.

“Yes- Yes! It- it’s coming,” you pant out, body slick with sweat as your arousal pools below you. A sloppy mess of bodies interlaced with remorseless pleasure.

“Let me feel them, I want to feel them,” abby says inches from your face, intently watching the contortions of your face below her. The butterflies, oh how she wished she could flutter in your tummy as they do so effortlessly.

You cave shamelessly, pressing into the soft pink flesh. You try to keep them stable, but as you reach the cliffs edge you can’t help but moan pathetically into her throat. Your hips thrust into the calloused fingers, chasing the lasting feelings of her, escaping your doom and passing the burden through your lips onto hers.

You did draw of this, and every time after that. It became an obsession, mental images snapshotted to accuracy for replication later.

The routine increased in frequency and intensity. Exploring each other’s most sacred places. She would let you touch her sometimes, but only when she was touching you. Abby seemed more interested in your pleasure than her own. But she cared about you, she never wanted you unsettled. She wanted to be your salvation.

“I ask you how you’re doing and I let you lie. But we don’t have to talk about it, I can walk you home and practice method acting. I’ll pretend being with you doesn’t feel like drowning.”

19

“Does she make you feel them?”

She asked when it had all started. The truth was you weren’t really sure. There was no definitive date or period of time that signified the beginning or end of it.

Ellie Williams was so…vulgar, erratic, a ticking time bomb. The pieces of the puzzle connected at last when you lied eyes on the auburn haired girl.

She had entered the WLF as gentle as a bomb to a building. Fiery hot attitude, a chip on her shoulder, and drowning green eyes. At first glance she utterly captivated your ever fleeting thoughts.

When she first walked through the corridors of the stadium your eyes fixed on her, staring rudely at her every move. “Who is that, the girl?” You ask the unfazed blonde next to you, too busy working at sharpening a blade, “names Ellie, they say she’s trouble. By the looks of her, checks out.”

“What did she do? Why is she here?” You continue your glare, taking note of the pink scare rippled along the crest of her eye.

You had never drawn anyone other than abby, but the girls features were so strong, the strokes would come naturally in your grasp. A secret muse possibly, even from a far.

“I don’t know- stay away from her. She reeks of trouble,” she’d remark, finishing off the blade and leading you off to a pending mission.

You tried, you really did. She was so compelling, and you? You were a bee to honey. Was she soft unlike her features? Did she speak of the world beyond her? Did she like to watch the clouds mesh into unlikely objects? Did she know of the butterflies and their ever present existence in your lungs?

Your notebook grew of only her, the short frayed hair, the pink scare, the freckles that littered her face. So effortlessly magnificent she was, unknowingly your own secret work of art.

Until abby found them.

Related to this work

Song lyrics: casual , waiting room , cool about it

Moodboard

If you enjoy the childhood best friend trope with abby highly recommend this fic by @kieranscaren she writes beautifully and gave me great inspiration for this work:)

Taglist: @wishbones999 @bookpagecandlescent @littlegingerperson5 @lookforthelight1 @fict1onallyobsessed @shewantstoknow @a-little-bit-of-everybody

[yan-lorkai]

Hi, so I've read the rules, but I'm not sure how much I can ask for. Can I get a headcanon about the TWST Housewardens finding out that the GN! reader has a boyfriend? Oh, and the reader's boyfriend is just some random student NPC in their dorms. If it's too much, just some of them reacting would be cool. Thanks!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Finally done, yay! Been a while since I wrote for all the housewardens so it is a little lengthy. Hope u enjoy, darling!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Tw: Yandere content, stalking, implied violence and kidnapping.

He's been watching you this whole time, feeling his heart beat inside his chest whenever he heard your sweet laugh and saw you smiling. His feelings slowly start to grow as you become friends, but there's just one problem: You have a boyfriend. What an unpleasant surprise! Well, what a shame that your boyfriend will disappear under suspicious circumstances that will never be resolved and he will be right here by your side to comfort you :)

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Azul know just what to do. He plots and plans and trap your boyfriend on a deal he can't refuse. It's a tricky deal, trickier than usual, I mean, a one in a lifetime chance, whatever it is. However you won't never know what happened to him, not when you come to Azul asking if he knows something, not when he is comforting you and rubbing your back as you cry while he pretends to be just as sad as you. As if he ever feel sad to lead your boyfriend to his demise when he can have you like this, when he can mend your heart himself and love you like you deserve. Though when you recover Azul will show you just how devotion and love truly feels. He has been deprived of it for too long, bullied and teased, and he will have you, even if you found out about the deal, even if you claim to hate him, he can bear it.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Kalim is a sweetheart on the surface level, so happy all the time, so friendly. But he is oh so suffocating, always touching your arm and pulling you into a hug, kissing your cheeks and forehead and laughing when you tell him to knock it off. People always tend to assume he is your boyfriend and tell you that you too are a very cute couple, and they're always shocking when you tell them that Kalim isn't your boyfriend but just your bestie. Not yet, at least. On an intimate level, he likes to think about what to do with your actual boyfriend. People love money more than they love humans. Can he bribe him? If so, how can he guarantee that he won't go back on his word? Or should him send Jamil to do his dirty work? Mmm, so many options, either way, by the end of the month your boyfriend will disappear and you will need a friendly shoulder to lean on and Kalim is more than happy to be there for you.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Idia already has Ortho investigating this student and is so easy to watch him since he is in Ignyhide. He isn't worthy your time, your love and care, he is but a little plankton, not very smart or interesting, Idia don't know what you had seen on your actual boyfriend but he is never going to tell this to your face. Instead, he invite you to his room to play and study, assuming a more softer approach about this little problem than most yanderes, telling you how your boyfriend has been acting strange and visiting another person's room for a very long period of time. He even show you a very factual and not at all fabricated camera footage as a proof. Idia considers himself a very good friend when he comfort you and wipes your angry tears, telling that you deserve better, that he can treat you better. After all, it wasn't your fault that your boyfriend was a cheater. And Idia can show you what true love is.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Vil is horrified about your taste in men. Like, really, Liebling? You love this... Thing? Well, He has to give recognition where it is due and as a Pomefiore student, your boyfriend tried to polish and better himself. Though it wasn't enough. He wouldn't be good enough for you even in thousand years. Vil likes to imagine how he would take care of you, love you, polish you. He likes to imagine how he'd let down his walls around you and told funny stories from his movies or backstage gossips. Knowing you have a boyfriend kinda of shatter those thoughts. He tried to be happy for you, he really tried but in the end he couldn't help himself. So he created a potion, so sweet and yummy, and gave it to your boyfriend. Simple as that. Having you crying on his lap was just a bonus, a bonus Vil would cherish dearly.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Malleus has what he wants. And he wants you. It's only natural that things will fall in order after he states his claim on you, every single little thing start to goes wrong in your relationship and you, stressed and sad, tells Malleus every single thing while he comforts you. Sweet words are whispered in your ears, great dreams greets you everytime you sleep and in your dreams you are always so happy by Malleus's side, exploring woods and swimming in lakes, petting sheeps and listening to the birds singing. Simple things. Great things. While you sleep, Malleus send nightmares to your boyfriend, makes him so horrified and paranoid that he can't even form coherent thoughts. He wants you and he will have you, even if he has to tear you two apart like this, since your boyfriend took to isolate and murmur to himself.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Riddle doesn't like this. He quite dislike your boyfriend a lot, he is messy, a rule breaker, a bad student, he isn't worthy your time and love. Riddle is consumed by a jealousy that make him see red, nowadays he is always collaring your boyfriend, always making him busy so you two can spend less time together. And if you come to Heartslabyu to try and spend time with him, Riddle will just lie to you and tell you he didn't do anything and has no idea about what you're talking about. Yes, he gaslight you. But he is doing that because he knows what's good to you and that is certainty not your boyfriend. Instead, he fills your head with doubts and lies, and takes you to the Unbirthday party so you can have a little fun. Savor the present moment, the little snarky jokes Riddle tells you and the delicious tea. Forget about your boyfriend before Riddle takes matters into another level.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Leona is smug. Like, really? You love this guy? He is so much better than your boyfriend, more smarter, stronger, he huffs whenever he see you two being all cute and chummy together. He should be the one holding you, kissing you, cuddling you. You are his precious mate so he put all his effort in conquering your heart and love. And when Leona is determined to do something there's nothing in the whole world that can make him stop. He plans and make so many strategies in order to be successful all the while he has Ruggie making the dirty work for him. Kill him, bribe him, whatever, Leona will make you a single person again before making you fall in love with him. Even if he has to turn your boyfriend into dust, he will without thinking twice.

[kettlefire]

Not Always a Villain (DP x DC Prompt)

Alfred Pennyworth is a man who always stands on business. Despite what the world might think, Alfred is truly the scariest man within the Wayne family.

He is a man of morals, that is correct. There are some lines Alfred refuses to cross. Harming kids is one of them. However, some morals become flexible when it comes to his family.

Alfred isn't Batman. Or any of the other vigilantes under Batman's wing. Alfred is simply a butler, and that's all that matters. He loves his family, deeply and truly. If there is a day when no love is shared, that is the day he is dead.

Despite all that, Alfred is detatched from the vigilante work. His job is to be there for the Wayne family. To offer them help in any way he can. And Alfred always delivers.

Even if it goes unnoticed, just how large of a role he plays.

Alfred is content with his role, with his life. He is more than happy keeping his darker traits hidden and tucked away. Unneeded in a family like the Waynes.

That was until a new villain appeared in the scene. A young man who seemed to strick fear in the hearts of everyone who encountered him. With snow white hair and blood red eyes.

Alfred barely spared a thought to it. Barely paid attention to the chatter about this villain. It wasn't his job to. Alfred was simply a butler, and that was all.

That was until the day it happened. Damian Wayne was sent to the hospital. Bloodied and broken. A truly brutal attack.

When Alfred looked down at the young master. Bruised in a hospital bed with a tube helping him to breathe. Bandages hiding most of the damage, but the whole family knew. This was an extremely close call.

In that moment, Alfred Pennyworth snapped.

He pulled some strings and checked in a few long, overdue favors. Before long, Alfred was on his own mission. He didn't breathe a word of it to Bruce or the others.

Alfred knew they would try to stop him. Or worses, they'll try to join in. This was something Alfred needed to do. Despite being an overall kind-hearted man, Alfred still had the heart of a stone cold killer.

He failed when it had been Jason. Alfred wasn't going to fail Damian. Not another Wayne kid will be failed. Not anymore.

Alfred had been so set on doing it. In taking out this villain before things escalated further. This young man was clearly cold-hearted, willing to hurt anyone and anything.

That's what Alfred thought.

What he believed until the moment he was face to face with the young man. It had been so certain. The man was unbelievably cold. Laughing in the face of Alfred's words, only stroking the old man's anger.

That was until Alfred had landed a hit, and everything shifted.

Blood red eyes suddenly shifted to bright lazarus pit green. The cruel look in those eyes suddenly changed to a horrified guilty expression. The man had stopped the fight in an instant.

Pulling away from Alfred. Terror and guilt clear as day as the villain seemed to retreat. In that moment, it all seemed to click in Alfred's mind.

This wasn't a villain. He wasn't a monster only determined to hurt anyone in his path. He wasn't the Joker.

Even when green eyes turned red once again. Even when the young man struggled and fought against him.

Alfred didn't yield.

He slapped special cuffs on the man, removing the powers he had. Dragged the villain all the way back to the cave.

Even when the anger and recognition flooded everyones' expressions. Alfred didn't stand down. He held strong, refusing to let anyone get their hands on the young man.

The young man that seemed too much like a young boy.

Alfred pushed the crusade to help. Laid his case out. Pulled the trust card. The supposed villain wasn't the person Alfred had beef with.

Not after hour long interrogations. Getting as much information as they could. It was a struggle, but it found an end. Alfred had no qualms with this young man.

No, he quickly learned who was to blame. Who was the person who deserved Alfred's anger. Deserved to pay for what was done. Alfred had a name, and soon... Very soon, that person will be in an obituary. A name was all Alfred needed.

Alfred was going to take down this Freakshow. Even if it was the last thing he could do.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

OMG RAVEN YOU’RE INTO EVER AFTER HIGH? I love it but can’t talk about it bc none of my friends have seen it 😭 I wish it was talked about more, especially with how deep their lore runs. I love EAH’s dynamics with the complexities of destiny. If twst followed the same logic as eah’s world it would be so interesting. How would you feel if the worlds were to mesh together and how it would work? You can interpret that in any way you want; the characters meeting or twst being bound to the same rules and societal expectations of eah, or whatnot.

Also who’s your favorite eah character compared to your favorite twst character (Leona)?Jade, right?

And have you read the eah books? I haven’t, but I’m going to try to sometime!

Eah alt account when?

I'm still salty that the Monster High x Ever After High crossover movie never saw the light of day-- Part of the reason why I don't like Disney (I mean the faceless corpo, not all Disney products) is because they have such a strong association with fairy tales that it pushes other interpretations out of the market or it leads to people assuming Disney "owns" those fairy tales. Ever After High's lore and themes run so much deeper than most other fairy tale reimaginings I've seen (and I've seen a lot). It's such a shame it doesn't get the respect and recognition it deserves even though EAH is the one out here challenging the status quo whereas modern Disney is content with mediocrity that appeals to the masses.

I think EAH and TWST, at their cores, share similar ideas so combining them would work well. Friendship, self-identity, defining your own future, questioning what "good" and "evil" truly are... It's all there. I'd imagine that if Twisted Wonderland (or at least NRC) followed the same rules as EAH, then everyone would be descendants of their Disney counterparts. (This is actually a common misperception of what TWST was to new fans; people mistakenly believe the TWST characters are children of the classic Disney villains. This has never been canon.) Unfortunately, I'd have to take away the Disney villains being twisted to be "good" guys in Twisted Wonderland's world in order for this to work by EAH rules, so... There's that to consider. This, in turn, can result in the student body splitting into Royals (pro-following one's destiny) and Rebels (anti-following one's destiny). Perhaps RSA and NRC could be one school in this AU...? Just so we have a mix of "good" and "evil" descended children in the same vicinity as one another. A must-have are the constantly bickering Narrators!! It's only really when Yuu shows up that the majority opinion starts to shift. Maybe then Crowley becomes concerned with students rising up and fighting back against the system that relies on them being complacent to keep the cycle of stories going. I've seen some readings of EAH which theorize that Royals guaranteed a happy ending is a stand-in for privilege, and that interpretation leads into very interesting conflicts when we also consider that magic in Twisted Wonderland is a privilege afforded to few.

To cover just the dorm leaders (because covering all the TWST characters would make this post way longer), I definitely see Riddle, Kalim, Idia, and Malleus as Royals and Leona, Azul, and Vil as Rebels. Here's my thought process:

Riddle is pretty self-explanatory. He comes from a background where he's used to being told what to do by his mother and so he also heavily relies on her strict, unyielding teachings to play by the book when he goes out there in the real world. Riddle is inflexible and hesitant to go against the grain--and, more importantly, he fully believes that following the rules will lead to his happiness... that doing as his fairy tale ordains will lead to a happy ending. What happens to the Queen of Hearts is dubious in the end since it's framed as Alice's dream, so I think that vagueness gives Riddle hope that by behaving himself, he'll earn the happiness he desires.

Leona is a Rebel, and not just because that's the aesthetic of his dorm. Being that he is highly intelligent and demonstrates a lot of foresight, he'd be aware of what future is in store for him and aggressively fighting against that. It would make him more desperate than ever to prove his worth, because not only does everyone see his powers as terrifying, but they also see him as a future brother murderer and dictator that will bleed the land dry of resources. It'd make the situation with his family even more strained than it already is, not to mention the extra jealousy he must feel toward Cheka, who is still too young to understand what's going to happen later.

Azul is someone who acts like a Royal but is actually a Rebel. He acts polite and like he plays by the rules, but clearly he doesn't behind the scenes. I see Azul as the kind of Rebel akin to Duchess Swan... as in, he believes he can steal away someone else's destiny for himself. Azul would constantly be looking for loopholes to save himself. He's put way too much stock into becoming a better, stronger person and he'd want to defend this new life he has made for himself. His obsession with protecting his contracts could translate well here.

Kalim is a Royal because he's mega rich and has been sheltered from the concept of bad things that happen to normal people; he has nothing to worry about. It also helps that Kalim is twisted from a character that doesn't meet a bad ending. I think he'd be aware of Jami's doomed destiny, but Kalim is so ignorant that he thinks it'll just be fine and it'll work itself out. Part of his growth could be being forced to reckon with the reality that Jamil is suffering under the legacy assigned to him and accepting the role that he plays in that by not acting.

Idia is a Royal--or at least pre-book 6 Idia is. He's a very pessimistic guy and repeatedly expresses hopelessness about the future, bemoaning the curse he and his family have to bear. Idia doesn't want to try to fight his fate, he's already accepted that it will happen and so closes himself off from others to save himself that heartbreak. Post-book 6 Idia will have swapped over to the Rebel side thanks to Ortho reviving the hope in him.

Vil is a Rebel simply for the fact that he fights social conventions. He's already out here shattering gender roles, but finds it much harder to breach that expectation that villains are just villains and nothing more. Vil keeps getting rejected at every turn, told that it's impossible to rewrite his story, that his frustrations are the natural result of jealousy and an ugly heart that festers in side of him. He steels himself to prove that notion wrong, working himself to the bone to get up on that stage and stay on it, waiting to be lavished with praise that he truly is the fairest one of all. I feel this would be so fascinating for Vil's own arc about self acceptance; maybe he wears himself down emotionally because he HAS to basically be perfect due to his job but also denies himself normal feelings like anger and jealousy because confessing that you have such "ugly" feelings only validates that you're shallow just like the stories say you will be.

Malleus is a tough one, but I settled for Royal in the end. Maleficent is doomed to be slain by a sword, right? So am I saying that THE Malleus Draconia, who is infamously arrogant about his magical abilities, would lie down and take a stab like that? Of course not! However, I do think that Malleus is initially someone who values tradition and living up to noblesse oblige. As the future ruler of a nation, people's stories are relying on him to play his expected role out, which he'd be fully cognizant of. I also think Malleus would be afforded the luxury of not having to face his destiny as soon as his peers are due to his long life span. This is in part because the person destined to slay him doesn't come into his life for literally hundreds of years. Then when book 7 arrives, Malleus has to deal with his loved ones leaving and/or betraying him as well as the realization that this is his destiny: dying alone and unloved. That'd just break him.

ahdbiqwdbqwli I COULD TALK ABOUT THIS AU FOR FOREVER BUT I'LL CUT IT SHORT OR ELSE I'LL NEVER SHUT UP 😭

EAH has so many good characters and interesting storylines, it's hard for me to pick a favorite! I of course love Apple and Raven's dilemmas, but I feel like it's cheating to pick one of them as my favorite. The whole Wonderland gang is also fantastic... I'm a sucker for their aesthetic, but they're so fun and silly in general. Kitty, Lizzie, and especially Madeline are 👌

Mmm, when I think long and hard about it, I think my favorite EAH character has to be Briar Beauty, daughter of Sleeping Beauty. Firstly, I love all the pink, roses, and bramble in her design. Secondly, I love the layers to why she is the way she is. Briar's a party girl not because "lmao, wouldn't that be a funny haha subversion of Sleeping Beauty" but because she wants to live life up before she falls asleep for 100 years and literally loses all her friends and family to the natural passage of time. That's seriously so smart and such an inventive way to think about the trauma a descendant of Sleeping Beauty might have. Seeing Briar transition from one of Apple's besties and biggest supporters to an outright rebel is satisfying as heck. (Gotta take a moment to shout out this classic moment :3)

I don't know if I would compare Briar to Jade since they're entirely different characters. However, looking at the source material, I'm actually surprised I like Briar as much as I do since I have never cared for the story of Sleeping Beauty. A part of me finds this ironic since Malleus harbors a similar fear as Briar (losing loved ones) yet I see Malleus's desire as way more selfish and self-serving than Briar's. I believe that's because Briar doesn't have the same arrogance as Malleus, so I'm more forgiving with her. EAH's actual equivalent to Malleus is Faybelle, daughter of the Dark Fairy, but I don't like her as much as I do Briar (hence why I'm comparing Malleus and Briar, not Malleus and Faybelle).

I haven't read the EAH books but I want to one day! I'd prefer to borrow them since I don't have enough space in my room for more physical books, so as soon as I find copies at a library or something...

This blog has kind of become a place where I occasionally talk about my other interests, generally as it relates to TWST, my main interest. I'd like to keep it like this since managing multiple blogs can be so draining. It already takes quite a bit of time to regularly write responses to asks just on one blog!

[gilverrwrites]

Come now, Boy Wonder ︎

Dick Grayson/Reader, 550 words Kinktober entry 5: Male squirting Warnings: CNC: hero/villain roleplay | Overstim | Bondage Requested by: Anonymous

His stormy blue eyes glare at you all the way though his orgasm. As dark and turbulent as a storm despite the pathetic, pretty choked up sounds that emanate from his swollen lips. His bare feet curve against the hard and filthy concrete flooring, supporting his body as he arches away from the pole his hands are bound too. Every muscle in his toned and sweat-slick body taut as he mindlessly ruts into your palms, white-hot cum spilling from his reddened cock head for the second time tonight and dribbling down your arm until he’s spent and collapses back onto the floor.

Sympathetic as you are, you allow him a short moment to catch his breath; for the pink to drain from his face and recognition to creep back into his eyes before you start again; running your thumb along the half-softened tip of his length until he twitches, attempting to pull back from you, only to press himself harder into the metal slab behind him.

“Come now, Boy Wonder. Surely, you’ve got more to give than that.” You tease, and he glares at you from behind his domino mask; the only slither of pride you’ve allowed him to retain.

You can tell from the stiff pursing of his lips that he wants to quip back at you. He’s always prided himself on being the witty one after all, but all that leaves his mouth is as a string of nonsensical whines as you wrap your other hand around the base of his uncut cock and start to glide your hand up and down his shaft in a ruthless, unending rhythm. Using his release as lubrication.

“C-c-can’t.” He finally spits, voice shaking in time with each tremor that creeps along his spine.

“Don’t be such a defeatist, Nightwing.” You scold, and his shaft begins to pulse between your tight grip, a telltale sign that another release is moments away. “You can, and you will.”

To aid his approaching climax, you squeeze his crown between your thumb and forefinger, massaging it in complementary circles as he begins to buck and wither at the overstimulation once more.

“Please, no. Nononono.” In spite of his negativity, another climax rakes through his worn-out body. This one watery and wild. It sails into the air, and you aim his throbbing cock toward him, ensuring every drop falls back onto this heated body. Even you hadn’t expected so much of it, but it keeps coming, salty droplets landing and clinging all along his form. He truly is wasted, to fucked to spit it out when glob after glob hits his heavy tongue.

“Wooooooooooow.” The smile on your lips is profane as you patronise him, but when he looks into your amazed eyes, he can’t fight the prideful smile that spreads across his face. “Never knew you were a squirter. Learn something new every day.”

“You’re gonna fucking pay for that.” He bites back, but there’s no energy behind it as his body goes lax. Head lolling to the side, cum coated chest heaving up and down with each unsteady breath. “Wait till I get my hands on you.”

“Oh you're so scary. Please don't hurt me Mr Hero.” You mock, laughing at him, not with him; it’s still your turn after all, and you're far from finished with him just yet.

Please remember, you deserve good things!

Kinktober Masterlist

[natalieironside]

Everybody's heard the story about Robert Johnson selling his soul to the devil, but the version I always heard growing up included the editorial postscript: "He asked for talent, but he forgot to ask for success."

I love Robert Johnson. He's my nomination for "best guitar player ever" and I think he's criminally underappreciated as a lyric poet, and these aren't controversial opinions. But what a lot of people forget is that Johnson was more-or-less ignored in his own time. He played the blues in obscurity and died destitute and relatively unknown. He didn't start getting the wider recognition he deserved until later rock guitarists like Jimmy Page and Eric Clapton credited him as an influence.

To be a truly singular and spectacular artist who gets remembered as a historical footnote to some white English dudes who laundered his techniques is I think a more frightful Mephistopheles than Goethe could've conjured

[ovrour]

───〃★ I MISS YOU

୨୧⋆ SYNOPSIS─── TikTok’s Chris would post you to after you pass away.

୨୧⋆ PAIRING─── Chris sturniolo x deceased!gf reader

୨୧⋆ WARNINGS─── mentions of a lost loved one.

୨୧⋆ NOW PLAYING…─── (whatever you’d like too. Don’t have a song in mind.)

୨୧⋆ anyone else but you

Before you passed away, Your favorite movie to watch with Chris was ‘Juno’. Every night you would come home from work, asking to watch Juno. And every night you did. Chris didn’t care that it was the only movie you would ever watch. It was his favorite thing to do. Wait for his girl to come, eat snacks, watch Juno, and fall asleep in each other arms.

Chris wouldn’t have given that up for anyone or anything. It was the one thing he would look forward to every night.

Now, Chris doesn’t look forward to it at all. He can’t, not without his favorite girl being gone. Chris watched Juno every night, eating snacks and falling asleep. Alone. With his girl gone, nothing felt normal without you being there. He missed you more than anything.

Chris missed hearing you laugh when you were making snacks together, or when you would fall asleep on his chest, hearing your quiet snores. He missed it all.

So, when he saw the ‘Juno’ trend on TikTok. He had to make a little booklet and post it. It was your favorite movie how could he not? It made him think of you any time he saw it.

Chris took his time making the booklet making sure it looked beautiful. Just like you did. His most precious thing, his prized possession.

He posted the video, not knowing how much attention it would bring to you. Most people didn’t even know about your death, it was floating around the internet of course. But, it wasn’t very known.

When he went to look at the video and saw the amount of love you got even though you weren’t there to experience it anymore. He was happy that everyone saw you for the sweet girl you were. He didn’t want to change that for anything.

Chris walked over to your memorial table he had made for you a few months ago. He grabbed your picture frame, “You’re still remembered like the sweet girl you were, baby. I’m gonna keep it that way for you.”

୨୧⋆ I need to treat you better

When Chris first saw this trend, he knew he had to post you to it. You deserved all the recognition and more.

you were his baby, his lover, his best friend. He wanted to post you to anything he could. Show you off anyway he could. Chris wished he would’ve spent more time with you instead of cancelling so many dates for his stupid YouTube career. It took away the time you two had together.

now, he couldn’t plan dates with you, couldn’t ask to go on late night drives, couldn’t surprise you. He couldn’t do anything with his baby gone anymore.

He wished he could’ve atleast tried to make time, but he didn’t. His mind was always focused on YouTube. Every day and night. It never left his mind and now, he wished it did most of the time.

If he could, he would’ve changed anything and every choice he made without realizing how much it hurt you.

When Chris posted the video he captioned it, ‘I miss you sweet girl. You will always be remembered.’ Having it get tons and tons of views.

Chris wished he could spend more time with you.

୨୧⋆ I saw sparks.

Chris knew he had to post his beautiful girl to this trend. He had so many pictures of you smiling, you would think that's the only thing he had in his camera roll.

He missed you a lot. Life without you was different. He had to learn how to live without you for months. It took a toll on him a lot, without his beautiful girl life was boring. No more late night face times, or cooking. It just wasn't the same, and he hated it.

He posted you to let people see how happy you truly were as a person in such a cruel, cruel world. No matter what, you were always smiling or laughing. It's what he liked about you most.

He wanted everyone to know that even with his girl gone, he would never stop posting or talking about you. Ever. That was something he would never do.

He hated life without you.

He just wanted his beautiful girl back.

© OVROUR

A/n: I'm so sorry I haven't wrote in such a long time. I've genuinely been so exhausted, and I've been bed rotting heavy. But, I finally wrote a little something, which I loved writing ittt!! I would love love love to do a part 2 if you guys want me too!

lots of love, alondra🪷

taglist!! @bernardsbendystraws @flouvela @sturniolosarethebest @soupuurr @nickgetsmewetter @inkyray @042502 @luvs4matt @missmimii @conspiracy-ash (if you'd like to be added pls lmk!)

[shadowthesim]

♡California Dreamin'♡

pairing: bf!chris x fem!reader

summary: you and chris have big dreams, so big for your little town, so you decide to go chase after them and get on the road to LA !

a/n: there will be a second part 100% ,i just can't promise when cause I'm busy with school work rn. hope you like it (english isn't my first language so sorry if there's any mistakes) -Honey 🤍

it's summer 1965 in Texas, and you're walking back and forth in your bedroom in a quick pace, trying to keep calm while waiting. your boyfriend chris was supposed to get his driver's licence today and to come pick you up after as promised, but you couldn't wait anymore as you grew inpatient. which led you to dial his mom's number in a haste. after you spinned the rotary dial of your telephone you heard mary loo's sweet voice answering the call.

"hello?" she asked wondering who could be calling her house this early.

"good morning mrs. sturniolo! it's me" you said hurriedly. "did chris call you?"

the lady on the other line laughed at your rushed tone. "no honey, he didn't.."

but before she could finish her sentence you heard your door's bell ringing. you smiled widely and immediately informed her that he's here. you hanged the phone and quickly ran downstairs.

the second the door was opened, you jumped excitedly into chris's arms for him to catch you with delight as you wrapped your legs around his waist. you stayed like this for a minute til you raised your head from his shoulder to look at his face and asked.

"did you get it..?", chris freed one arm from behind your back and reached for his pocket to show you the long awaited license. he placed it in your hand for you to inspect closely as your eyes brightened.

"no way! that's actually real?!" you couldn't believe that you can finally drive around and travel with his car without any restrictions to hold you back.

"I know right!" he answered with a huge smile and started to spin you around in a circle. you then grabbed your suitcase and made your way out of the house together.

He answered with huge smile on his face, "I know right!" and spun you around in a circle, his eyes sparkling with joy. you giggled, feeling carefree.

a couple minutes later you grabbed your suitcase and walked out the house together, the soft sun ray embracing you as you walked side by side, sharing the excitement of the moment.

ᯓ1 year ago

"I'm sick of this" your boyfriend suddenly said that after being too focused on his guitar for the past hour. you tilted your head trying to understand what is he exactly 'sick of'. "what do you mean?"

"I mean.. all of this, i just know that my songs deserve so much more than that" and he was right. chris loved singing more than anything else, and playing his music in those small parties was never gonna be enough, and almost no one listened to his tapes. he deserved so much more recognition.

"so does you love" chris rested his hand on your shoulder and looked in your eyes trying to read your expression. you loved to act since your childhood.acting isn't just a passion, it's your home and the stage is when you truly come alive. "i know..."

"let's leave then!", at first you laughed, thinking that he was only joking. but his determined look convinced you otherwise. your small town felt stifling, unable to contain your big dreams.

"we're meant for more" chris said reassuring you. so you decided to work hard and save money to afford a car nice enough to take you to California.

ᯓback to the present

you settled in the passenger seat next to chris in his red cabriolet who's starting the engine as you mentally checked everything you needed to grab, making sure that you didn't forget anything that's important.

you're all set and ready for your long awaited journey. and of course chris had to get his cassette, so you inserted your favorite track tape, blasting yours and chris's favorite song in the car. eight days a week by the beatles.

"did you bribe the photographer?" you asked holding chris's driver's license. "what?"

"how can someone look this good in a photo?" he started laughing at your comment. and that was how the rest of the night went, exchanging laughter and screaming songs lyrics. it was all fine for the next couple hours until chris realized that the car needs fuel, so you started to look around for a close gas station and maybe find a place to spend the night at.

deviders by: mee!! feel free to use it if you want but tag me please if you did <3

honey's masterlist ♡

taglist: @anyaa2s @m0nsterhighluvr32 @ily-tothemoonandback @nateismybf @cupiidk1lls @sturniolos4life16 @breesturns @domtorettosfamily @mamamadssss @caroline12b @reader-lola @chrissturniolobbymama @lemonhoney2460 @freakshow-420 @emely9274 @mattsturniolofuckingsexy @chrisslut04 @jessie-essie @marrykisskilled @meatballlover10 @chrissturnioloslvt @trevorsgodmother @sturniololuv08 @sophand4n4

@shadowthesim 🪄

[xenteaart]

contemplating mediocrity

pairing: idol!chan x reader (gn but written with f!reader in mind) word count: 0,9k genre/warnings: er, hurt to comfort, use of "baby", self-doubt, honestly not much else, pretty pg-13 author's note: heavily inspired by @withleeknow 's last seungmin fic, i couldn't handle the angst and needed to comfort myself fkdjfkdjfk. also it kinda made me reflect on why it hurt so bad so i guess this fic is a little support and comfort thingy for everyone who might not be feeling "enough". before reading you might wanna check out the inspo fic itself <3

“baby? what’s wrong?” 

ah, he’s always too quick to notice. 

you take your eyes off the laptop and put a video of 3racha’s festival performance on pause.

“nothing. you guys did a wonderful job, truly. ’m just… contemplating my mediocrity.”

“what?” he’s more just taken aback than anything else but you read it as irritation.

it’s one of those days when everything feels extra sensitive, even the things you can deal with well on a regular day.

“what? chris, baby, i’m not being self-deprecating, it’s just a fact. i truly could not be more proud of you, but sometimes i just can’t shake off the feeling of not doing enough compared to you. 

it warms my heart to know that you are so so loved and respected, it really does. but, i guess.. it’s a little humbling too? i haven’t achieved anything nearly as grand and i don’t have thousands of people cheering for me after i do as much as breathe. which you totally deserve, by the way, i’m not saying you don’t.”

long silence follows as chris frowns, carefully crafting his next response while you’re already starting to regret you opened your mouth at all. maybe, some things should be kept to yourself. maybe, it’s not really necessary to share every dark thought that comes to your pained mind after midnight. maybe, it’s safer for your relationship to just move those conversations to a cozy zoom meeting with your therapi—

“that’s a skewed perception of our dynamic though, baby.” 

oh, shit. he has the look. you know this one too well, and it says “i’m not letting this slide and we’re talking this through”. 

“how so?” you feel tired and discouraged already, mostly annoyed at yourself for making your boyfriend come up with some nonsense points to make you feel better now. 

“don’t put me on a pedestal. firstly, i think you’re forgetting how many people there actually are behind what we’re doing. daily. i’m talking all the staff and production teams, makeup, hair, clothes, art direction, schedule management. everything. there is literally a whole division for us that makes us look the way we look and helps us do what we love.”

you stay quiet, blinking slowly and pursing your lips together. 

“which isn’t to say we don’t work hard or that we haven’t achieved anything, but it wouldn’t have been possible without all that help. 

secondly, in my daily life i’m just a guy, baby. literally just a guy who loves music. nothing fancy,” chan gives you one of those wide soft smiles, and you hear your heart break a little. 

“yeah, well, not every guy who loves music has the amount of awards and recognition you do, baby.”

“okay, where is this truly going?”

there it goes.

“sometimes i worry i just can’t match it? that you’ll get bored of me because i’m not over the top extraordinary or... whatever.”

you feel stupid. 

“so you think i’m with you for your so-called achievements?”

you can’t come up with a response, so he continues, gently hugging you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. his favorite way of making you feel loved. 

“i’m with you because you’re my sense of normalcy, baby. you calm my mind when it’s racing too fast. you’re my safe little harbour where i can find peace after hectic schedules and loud noises and crowds. you ease the weight i carry on my shoulders every day.” 

you stay silent, focusing on the feeling of his warm breath on your cheek. the tip of his nose is touching your skin lightly.

“you love the regular channie. you kiss my puffy swollen face in the mornings, and those kisses make me wonder if i’m actually not that bad without all the makeup on after all. you laugh at my jokes and cuddle me when i get needy. you listen to my darkest nastiest thoughts and never judge me for feeling whatever it is i’m feeling. 

what i’m getting at is that... i can just be me around you, you know? that’s why i’m still here. and i feel so proud to have a partner with a big warm heart and a strong mind, honored to be cared for by someone so neat and beautiful in the most mundane things.

do you really think i’d measure my love and respect for you by something like fame or... some noble achievements?”

“i don’t know,” you sound even more confused than at the beginning of this suddenly serious conversation, caught off guard by chan’s words, but mostly — his tenderness towards you. his patience and the way he's willing to spell it out for you if you're feeling too low to see the whole picture yourself.

"well, then i’m telling you. that is just not the case. you’re already everything i could ask for, baby. someone passionate, honest, reliable, loving and kind. someone who holds my hands through the hard days and makes me laugh on the good days. simple as that."

the pressure on your chest is slowly fading as chan's words finally sinking in, finding their ways into your system and rendering as the truth. the ache isn't completely gone but you know it will be in the morning, when the sunrise washes the rest of your worries away.

for now, you turn around in chris's embrace and hide your nose in the crook of his neck, simply breathing and enjoying the lingering scent of his soap. skin to skin.

[neptunes-sol-angel]

Pick the picture(s) that you're drawn to the most, then scroll down for its corresponding message on what you would be canceled for when it comes to your reputation.

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Pile One 🚫

I’m seeing a scenario where a person that’s known for being in a group, decides to go solo. I see that you’re the kind of person who loves the feeling of being in partnerships or in community with others but you’d rather deal with loneliness than compromise the love that you have for yourself. The way that you wield your independence makes people very upset with you. It really feels like people have a nasty habit of trying to humble you so when you show them that they can’t, they want to convince other people to go against you because that’s the only way that they can feel some control over you but you make it vain by not caring so much about if you’re the villain or victim in someone else’s story. If a person believes the worst about you, then there is no need to vindicate yourself because most likely it’s because they already didn’t like you and just wanted a reason to feel secure about their vitriol towards you. You tend to outshine others in some way and people think that you do this on purpose or with sinister intent, but naturally you’re just highly magnetic. The things that make you unique are what make people heavily drawn to you. I’m seeing that people could have the tendency to try to gate keep you, you could be seen as the underdog in a situation or someone who isn’t as known at first until you outgrow your situation and gain this massive attention and support. This also could upset a lot of people because they liked you better when you were down, possibly out of envy or because they feel you’re similar to them so you gave them this feeling of comfort and validation so your ability to obtain this much recognition makes them feel left out. The way people act towards you could trigger imposter syndrome inside you but it’s important to recognize that you truly are talented and you deserve the praise for your skills and hard work. The good things about yourself that other people see whether they want others to notice or not notice, are real. Star qualities are embedded in your dna, you were never meant to burn yourself out because others are threatened by the way that you shine. This reading is supposed to be generally about your reputation, but I actually see potential for this pile to become famous, especially in the music industry.

Pile Two 🚫

It seems like somehow this pile is usually at the scene of the crime. You could feel like time just isn’t on your side. Maybe you guys have capricorn and aquarius placements or saturn is somewhere significant in your chart. A big reason why people would cancel you, is because of who you associate with. Some of you may already know this and are trying to work on it but a lot of you need to hear this message which is to be more selective with who you hang around with because you will keep being caught up in the crossfire in a battle that’s supposed to be meant for someone else. You’d be canceled for always being neutral in an issue that you shouldn’t be silent about. It honestly feels like a lot of your issues come from what you say or don’t say. I’m getting that there are moments where you don’t know when to read the room, for some it’s out of ignorance and naivety but for others your lack of self awareness turns to stupidity which will make others deem you as problematic. Be mindful of who and who isn’t your friend. Some people will passively let you make certain mistakes for their own entertainment or because your demise benefits them. These hurdles in your reputation will also teach you to be cautious of the ways you’re hurting yourself to save others who wouldn’t do the same for you but your rough beginning in learning how to be tactful and poised will make you more recognized and appreciated for your growth. Your mistakes will leave an imprint, but it’s important to not stay in embarrassment from it and to move on because at some point people’s reaction to it will change from disapproval to people seeing how iconic you actually are because of how strong and authentic your character is and your capacity to mature. Some of the negative hits towards your reputation do not have anything to do with what you personally do to others. Some people may cancel you because they feel like you win too much or that you have too much. People may be too harsh on you if you’re young when they shouldn’t because you’re still learning and you should be allowed to enjoy your youthfulness because time waits for no one. I can see people trying to scapegoat you by bringing up real world issues that are out of your control to criticize you because you look luxurious or too comfortable. I feel like your words are also twisted a lot by others too which can be severely annoying.

Pile Three 🚫

People consider you to be very controversial. What you do or what you say is turned into a think piece by others. I can see people trying to diagnose you with something that’s far from the actual truth when really you just want to have fun and a good time. Whether you are wrong or right I can see a lot of people defending you a lot but they could be part of the problem too as well because maybe they also try to put labels onto you or put you on a pedestal that you don’t want to be on. You would be canceled for not doing the things that people want you to do in your career which can either turn out really well in the end or be bad for you. This could push you into hermit mode where you’re not interested in being known by just anyone but the people who you can relate to. I see a lot about you not being able to go through personal matters in private because somehow everything is on display. People in this pile can be older or have experienced mature themes and lessons intensely at a young age or have experienced parents trying to pressure them into being child prodigies for success. What I say will probably irritate you too but I’m actually seeing that as much as it’s good that you’re having fun, most of the destructive and impulsive behaviors that you do come a lot from not being able to have boundaries or moderation with things in your youth but it doesn’t mean that you’re finished or that your life is over yet. If I could describe what people see when they view you as notorious, it would be like a bull inside a china shop. It could even seem like you’re going backwards but you’re trying to find yourself and you will. I see your reputation being a highlight for people who are coming of age or think of you whenever they’re in nostalgia. Whatever that you create in this lifetime will be timeless and healing for others in some way but could have them missing for your presence again as if you’ve made a symbolic cartoon series, album, piece of writing, or even an acting role that does exactly what it needs to do but people still hope that one day you come back to make an extension of it or at least give an update on what you’re up to in your life. People could see your opposition as something that resonates with them spiritually.

[akookminsupporter]

I'm rewatching Jungkook's Wlive but with ‘official subtitles’ this time, and I've realised he struggles with imposter syndrome. I had noticed it before, but I often saw it more as him being humble about his achievements, impact, and talent rather than a feeling of self-doubt. It really stands out how much he downplays himself, even when he’s done something incredible. It’s almost like he doesn’t fully believe he deserves the recognition he gets.

Both he and Jimin seem to ‘suffer’ from this the most within the group, in my opinion, and it’s interesting—and honestly a bit sad—to witness. They’ve achieved so much as solo artists and as members of BTS, and yet they seem to constantly question whether it’s enough or if they’re truly worthy of the love and admiration they receive. It’s sad that they think this way because it’s clear to anyone watching how extraordinary and talented they are, but at the same time, it also feels like this mindset is part of what makes them who they are.

That desire to always do better, to never settle, seems rooted in their constant questioning of themselves in many ways. It pushes them to improve every day, striving to achieve this personal ideal of perfection they’ve built in their minds and while it’s inspiring to see their work ethic and dedication to be and do better as artists, I can’t help but wonder if it’s exhausting for them to carry that pressure all the time. Is it healthy? Probably not, but it’s definitely a huge part of what keeps them moving forward and reaching new heights.

Having said all that, it's bittersweet, really. Their self-doubt may fuel their greatness, but I can't help but wish they could see themselves the way the rest of us do—flawed, perhaps, but already perfect in so many ways.

[hrizantemy]

It truly is baffling how so many people can acknowledge Elain’s unhappiness in the Night Court—how she feels out of place and trapped—but then turn around and refuse to extend that same logic to Nesta, whose dissatisfaction is arguably even more glaring. It’s not hating on Elain to point out the double standard here. Both sisters are fundamentally unsuited to the Night Court’s values, yet only Elain gets the empathy and recognition for it.

Nesta’s dreams and desires have always been clear. She’s never been about the Night Court’s ideals of camaraderie or belonging. Nesta wanted freedom—freedom to explore, to travel, to chase her ambitions on her own terms. She outright said she wanted to see the world. She wanted more than Velaris, more than Illyria, more than playing house with Feyre and Rhysand in their self-contained little kingdom. Yet, instead of honoring that aspect of her character, she’s stuck. Why? Because of other people. Feyre and Cassian are the anchors chaining her to the Night Court, a place that has never been her home, a place that stripped her autonomy and belittled her at every turn.

What’s even worse is how this is framed as a “happy ending” for her. She’s supposedly “healed” because she found Cassian and reconciled with Feyre, but what about her dreams? What about her desires? Nesta Archeron deserved to be out there exploring new lands, learning new cultures, reclaiming her sense of self. Instead, she’s in a place where she has to constantly suppress the parts of her that don’t fit the Inner Circle’s mold, pretending that being tied to Cassian is enough to fulfill her when, let’s be real, it’s not.

The narrative doesn’t just ignore her longing for freedom—it actively erases it by shackling her happiness to Cassian and Feyre. It’s like her whole arc was boiled down to “you don’t need to travel or chase your dreams; you just need to learn how to belong in Velaris.” It’s suffocating to think about, especially when you compare how freely Elain’s discontent is acknowledged. Everyone is so quick to sympathize with Elain’s alienation because it’s “obvious” she doesn’t belong in the Night Court—but Nesta, who has outright said she doesn’t want to be there, is expected to grin and bear it.

It’s not hate; it’s just infuriatingly obvious that Nesta is not thriving in the Night Court. She’s surviving. She’s coping. She’s settling because of the people she loves, but it’s at the expense of the person she could have been. And the fact that so few people see it—or, worse, choose to ignore it—is my own thirteenth reason.

It’s absolutely enraging how at the end of Nesta’s healing book, she still has to earn love—whether it’s from Cassian, Feyre, or the Inner Circle—and we’re supposed to buy into the idea that this is a “happy ending.” How is it healing if she has to prove herself worthy of the people who should have loved her unconditionally? How is it growth if she’s still bending over backward to fit their expectations, rather than being allowed to exist as she is?

Take Cassian, for example. Their relationship is framed as some great love story, but the dynamic is painfully uneven. Nesta spends the entire book being berated, degraded, and humiliated—often by Cassian himself—and yet she’s the one who has to grovel for his love. She’s the one who has to change. At the end, it’s made clear that he hasn’t fully forgiven her, even though his own actions—his cruel words, his dismissal of her trauma—are never addressed. She saves his life, literally redefines herself through sacrifice, and still, it feels like she’s being tested, like his love is conditional on her “proving” she’s no longer the woman he once judged. How is that love? How is that a happy ending?

And Feyre? Nesta’s entire arc is twisted into some redemption for the harm she did to Feyre, but where’s Feyre’s acknowledgment of her own mistakes? Where’s her apology for the years she ignored Nesta, for the way she dismissed her struggles, for throwing her into a situation where she was humiliated and isolated? Feyre’s love is only extended when Nesta conforms to her expectations—when she becomes the sister Feyre wanted all along, not the person she was. Nesta has to save Feyre’s life, give up her power, and completely transform herself to be accepted. That’s not a resolution; it’s a transaction.

And let’s not even start on their father. He shows up, what, once to sacrifice himself, and suddenly we’re supposed to believe everything is forgiven? This man neglected Nesta her entire life. He let her carry the weight of their family’s survival, let her bitterness fester, let her fight battles he didn’t have the strength to face. But in the end, it’s Nesta who’s forced to let go of her anger, to remember him fondly, to forgive. Where’s the justice for her? Where’s the acknowledgment that his failings shaped so much of her pain? Instead, the narrative tells us that she has to be the bigger person, because heaven forbid anyone else take accountability.

Then there’s the Inner Circle. They despise Nesta throughout the book, openly mock her, and isolate her at every turn. And yet, by the end, it’s presented as some triumph that she’s finally “earned” their acceptance. Why does Nesta have to “earn” love and respect from people who treated her like an enemy? Why is she expected to grovel while none of them reflect on their own cruelty? The book frames this as her becoming part of their “family,” but it reads more like Nesta finally learning to make herself small enough to fit into their perfect little world.

This isn’t a happy ending. This is a tragedy of a woman forced to give up pieces of herself to gain conditional love. Nesta’s “healing” is nothing more than her being stripped of her autonomy, her rage, and her dreams, all so she can be more palatable to the people around her. And the fact that we’re supposed to cheer for that—supposed to believe that’s what she deserved—is not only insulting, it’s heartbreakingly obvious.

It is absolutely maddening how, after A Court of Silver Flames gives us Nesta’s so-called “happy ending,” the next book has her saving an entire world—a literal act of heroism—and yet she’s met with threats of execution. Meanwhile, Rhysand and Feyre have put the entirety of Prythian in jeopardy time and time again, yet their actions are met with excuses, understanding, and blind adoration. How is that even remotely fair?

Nesta sacrifices everything—her power, her autonomy, her very soul—to protect the people she loves and even those who have wronged her. Her act of saving the world should have cemented her as a hero, someone worthy of respect and admiration. But instead of gratitude or acknowledgment, she’s threatened? The hypocrisy is glaring. When Feyre and Rhysand risk the entire realm with their schemes, their gambles, and their alliances, they’re treated like untouchable saints. But when Nesta acts selflessly, it’s somehow twisted into something punishable.

Let’s not forget, Feyre and Rhysand—put everyone at risk. With the constant machinations, secret deals, and habit of withholding critical information have endangered not just their own court but the entire continent. Yet, no one ever brings up the consequences of their actions. They’re not threatened with execution; they’re celebrated as cunning, brave, and self-sacrificing.

But Nesta? Nesta, who saved an entire world at immense personal cost, is immediately vilified. It’s not even subtle. She’s never allowed the benefit of the doubt, never given the same understanding Feyre and Rhysand get on a silver platter. It’s as if the narrative can’t stand for her to succeed without reminding her—and the audience—that her love and sacrifice are still conditional. It’s a deliberate attempt to undermine her triumph, to ensure that no matter how much she gives, she’s never allowed to rise above the labels they’ve slapped on her.

What’s worse is that the Inner Circle’s hypocrisy in this moment is staggering. These are the same people who rallied behind Feyre and Rhysand through every bad decision and questionable gamble, but when Nesta makes the ultimate sacrifice, they threaten her life? It’s as if their love and loyalty only extend to those who fit their narrow idea of family, and Nesta—no matter what she does—will never truly be one of them. She can save worlds, bring people back from the brink of death, and give up everything she has, but it will never be enough.

This isn’t just unfair—it’s infuriating. The blatant favoritism Feyre and Rhysand receive compared to Nesta is a reminder that the Night Court’s supposed ideals of fairness and family are nothing but a facade. Nesta’s journey should have ended with her being celebrated for the hero she is, not treated as a disposable threat. But the narrative refuses to let her win, and that’s the real tragedy.

What’s even more infuriating is how people are begging for Elain to go off on the Night Court and the Inner Circle, yet when Nesta does the exact same thing, she’s vilified for it. The double standard is honestly exhausting. Everyone romanticizes the idea of Elain standing up for herself, calling out the hypocrisy of the Inner Circle, and rejecting the expectations they’ve placed on her—but when Nesta dares to push back, she’s labeled as bitter, cruel, or ungrateful. Why is it empowering for Elain to fight back, but when Nesta does it, it’s a problem?

Nesta has always been the one to challenge the Inner Circle’s hypocrisy. She’s called out their sanctimonious behavior, refused to play by their rules, and made it clear that she doesn’t owe them anything. And instead of being seen as someone standing up for herself, she’s treated as a villain for it. She’s punished for not falling in line, for not worshipping at the altar of Feyre and Rhysand, for refusing to be molded into their perfect little family. Meanwhile, Elain, who has spent the entire series quietly enduring, is suddenly being lauded as a feminist icon for maybe, possibly, calling out the same things Nesta’s been railing against for years.

The worst part is that the people who love the idea of Elain confronting the Night Court are the same ones who tore Nesta down for her anger and defiance. When Nesta lashes out, it’s framed as her being toxic or cruel, but when Elain hypothetically does it, it’s framed as a moment of empowerment. Why is Elain allowed to have righteous anger, but Nesta isn’t? Why is Elain’s potential rebellion seen as a triumph, while Nesta’s defiance is seen as a flaw?

Nesta’s anger has always been justified. She has every right to be furious with the Inner Circle for how they’ve treated her—for their judgment, their cruelty, their complete lack of understanding. But instead of being validated, she’s told to “get over it” and “be grateful” for their so-called help. Elain, on the other hand, is handed endless sympathy, and her potential anger is preemptively celebrated. It’s yet another way the narrative, and the fandom, refuses to give Nesta the same grace they so readily extend to others.

The truth is, people only like rebellion when it’s palatable. Elain’s quiet, subtle defiance fits the narrative they want to see: a meek girl finally finding her voice. But Nesta’s anger has always been too loud, too raw, too real for people to handle. She’s messy and unapologetic, and instead of celebrating her for it, they tear her down. It’s a double standard that perfectly encapsulates why Nesta’s story feels so unfinished—because no matter what she does, she’ll never be allowed the freedom and empowerment that everyone is so eager to grant Elain.

[danganfixationronpa]

As a more in-depth continuation of my last post involving Akane Owari... (TW: mentions of sexual assault & body objectification.)

What most of the fandom sees Akane as: That air-headed girl with the big boobs who is obsessed with food and fighting. Pretty much just another Aoi Asahina.

Who Akane *really* is: A strong woman inside and out and who loves food because she realizes how important eating is after years of being homeless with countless younger siblings to take take care of, but she doesn't prioritize food *so* much to the point where she would kill any of her fellow classmates to escape the funhouse.

While not academically smart, she is highly intuitive and actually a lot more aware than people give her credit for.

While short tempered, she cares greatly about her classmates and doesn't tolerate things like murder (yes, she was a remnant of despair, but Kodaka didn't exactly write Class 77b's despair-ridden selves well at all due to putting brainwashing into the equation.) Even somebody she is constantly antagonistic towards like Nagito, she only becomes so antagonistic and violent towards him because he is putting other's lives in danger and "seemingly" showing no remorse for their fallen classmates. Even after she goes into a blind fit of range and nearly strangles him to death, when Chiaki snaps her out of it, she genuinely feels remorse and begs forgiveness.

Was willing to work hard (which is something she dislikes doing), so she could get her and her younger siblings out of the streets.

Is a survivor of sexual assault and objectification from many men in her life, but she sadly doesn't seem to understand the gravity of those situations since she casually talks about her own body in a objectifying way sometimes. But just because she doesn't realize just how serious those situations truly were in hindsight, she is a still a victim of those horrible actions.

Lastly, on a surface level, she and Hina most definitely have similarities. However, they are *far* from the same character. (I'm not going to get into the reasons why cuz this post already went on long enough 😅)

Overall, yes, some of these details are only known when playing through her FTEs, but even putting her backstory aside, all of my other points still stand.

This girl deserves more love and recognition, dammit!

EDIT: Holy, it's only been a couple of hours and this post is already getting so many likes and reblogs! Thanks, everyone! Glad to see others agree.