#they are ALL terrible what did you expect

[maxdibert]

Honestly, I don’t give credit for the bare minimum. James Potter didn’t die a hero; he died an idiot who forgot to grab his wand. Even if he had fought heroically, that wouldn’t make him a hero—it would make him an average husband and father. Like, why do people try to make the most basic things seem extraordinary when it comes to cishet white dudes? What James did is literally what you’d expect from any average husband or father when their family is in danger. It’s the bare minimum: you protect your child. It’s not some incredible feat—it’s just the baseline. It’s like saying you’ve met a guy and he’s amazing because he doesn’t treat you like crap.

I don’t know if the problem is that many of you had terrible father figures or dads who “went out for milk” and never came back, but if someone even tried to lay a hand on me, my dad would break their jaw. And not because he’s the bravest, most incredible, or most heroic person in the world, but because he’s my dad, and that’s what dads do for their kids.

On another note, I love how this post conveniently ignores the fact that Severus was deeply traumatized by James because of the systematic bullying and abuse James inflicted on him. You call James a hero, but a hero doesn’t use their position of power to abuse others. In fact, you hate Severus for doing the same thing James did to him: exploiting his power over someone to dominate and mistreat them. The only difference is that James wasn’t a traumatized person, didn’t have deep psychological scars, wasn’t raised in a violent environment, and wasn’t incapable of handling his emotions.

James Potter was a rich kid from a near-aristocratic family who grew up with the love of his parents and a solid support system his entire life, yet he chose to be a piece of trash. He didn’t just hex random people in the halls for fun; he chose as his main victim a working-class kid with no family name, no resources—social, economic, or familial—to defend himself. That’s not heroic; that’s pathetic. Especially when we’re talking about someone who, because his best friend was bored, cornered a kid who was all alone, outnumbered him, stripped him against his will in front of half the school, and asphyxiated him. That’s the hero you’re defending, and you should be ashamed of yourself for being so cynical and hypocritical to conveniently skip over all of these facts to defend a completely sanitized version of the character.

Yes, Severus was a jerk and had a terrible personality. But Severus wasn’t a functional adult. You’re expecting a deeply traumatized person with an unresolved history of abuse to handle his emotions like someone who has had the chance to heal, go to therapy, and receive treatment—and that wasn’t the case. Severus never had the time to heal from anything. He was abused by his father, bullied by rich kids at school, and then forced back into that same school by Dumbledore—the place where he experienced his worst traumas—and you expect him to be functional? No, he wasn’t functional.

And yes, he didn’t have the right to take out James’s sins on Harry, but you know what else he did? He saved Harry’s ass, along with his friends, from the very first year. Without Severus, they would’ve died twenty times over before the seventh book. But you conveniently skipped over that too because you’re not interested in acknowledging it.

Severus wasn’t a pleasant guy or the best friend to children, but he always made sure those kids made it to the end of the year alive. He took on the role of a double agent, risking his life multiple times to confront the most dangerous wizard of all, deceiving him, and working for the greater good. He stuck to Dumbledore’s plan, even if it meant becoming a monster in the eyes of everyone else and carrying all the blame and hatred of the people he was fighting for. He fought for the good side even when the good side had always despised, underestimated, and hated him. And he gave his life for the cause when it was necessary.

And what did James do? Be a bully, get pregnant his teenage girlfriend, get married at 19, spend most of his 20s hiding at home, and die in his pajamas because he forgot his wand? Incredible contribution to society. At least he donated sperm—what a feat.

I cannot believe people let Snape get the high ground.

How do people casually overlook the fact that Snape spent six entire years of his life telling a kid—who never even got the chance to know his father—that said father was an arrogant douchebag? Like, how do people think that behavior is normal?

Snape, a grown man, spent years trying to convince a grieving, orphaned child that his dead father—who literally died protecting his family—was a terrible person. No compassion for a man who gave his life for his wife and son. No sympathy for a kid who grew up abused, unloved, and completely alone, only learning about his parents through stories told by others.

Instead, Snape chose to rehash his teenage rivalry with James Potter by bullying his son. Imagine being so petty that you can’t move past your high school grudges, even when the other person has been dead for over a decade.

Even the coldest, most detached person would muster some respect for a man who died fighting for good. But Snape? No. He chose to sit on his high horse—ignoring the fact that he was once a Death Eater who only changed sides when his own personal interests were threatened—and still had the audacity to act morally superior to James.

James Potter died a hero. Snape, on the other hand, spent his life tormenting the child of the woman he claimed to love—while refusing to let go of a teenage rivalry and weaponizing it against a traumatized, grieving boy.

I cannot get over how utterly selfish and cruel that is. Snape had no empathy for the dead and no sympathy for the living. And people still try to defend him? Seriously?

[moonstruckme]

hi !! for sirius requests, what about a whimsical! reader x jealous! sirius?? i think it would be fun to think about what would cause it and whimsical! reader would probably be a little oblivious 🤔

if not, feel free to ignore! i love ur works 🫶🫶

Thanks for requesting angel !

cw: jealousy/possessiveness, Sirius losing it a bit, James and Remus being reasonable but also here for the drama, reader is hit on and is oblivious so I wouldn't call it cheating but beware if that's gonna be weird for you

Sirius Black x whimsical!reader ♡ 955 words

“Sirius, mate.” There’s laughter in James’ voice, a hint of knowing humor. “You’re gonna break a tooth.”

Sirius unclenches his jaw almost reluctantly. He needs a physical outlet for his ire. If he doesn’t grind his teeth, he’s going to break the pint in his hand, he’s sure of it. 

“Can’t glare him out of existence either,” Remus hums, sounding altogether too smug. Remus finds endless amusement in Sirius’ torment, will likely recount it to you later so you can laugh at him together. Sirius makes a mental note to salt Remus’ coffee the next time he has opportunity. 

You’re a funny sight in the rowdy pub, lovely, resplendent, your long skirt with its grass stains a notable contrast to the jeans and trackies surrounding you. You slip between tables like a wood nymph, like a creature plucked from the next world. Sirius wishes he were the only one to notice, to admire you, but often he isn’t. 

You’ve been arrested on your way to the bar. It’s Sirius’ fault for not going to get your drink for you, really, but he wasn’t expecting some bloke to chat you up for so long you sat down with him. Now you’re all lovely and resplendent sitting at the bar with another man, and James is right—Sirius very well might break a tooth over it. His, or preferably someone else’s. 

“Oh god, this is really dire, isn’t it?” James whispers to Remus. He has terrible friends, Sirius thinks. He should get rid of them both. “He’s gone all quiet and broody.” 

“Mm. Might never speak again.” 

“You think?”

“If we’re lucky.” 

“Y/n seems rather fond of him speaking, though. Maybe she will run off with some other bloke then.” 

You smile at something the man says, and Sirius’ chair is shoved back before he knows he’s doing it. 

“Wait, wait.” James is laughing now, the prick. He reaches out to hold Sirius’ arm. “We’re only joking. She’s fine, mate, relax.” 

“I know,” Sirius says, clipped. “I’m going to get her so she can be fine over here instead.” 

Remus hums. “Seems like she’s beating you to it.” 

Sirius turns back around, and you’re headed towards them, smiling with four drinks in your hands. Four large, fruity-looking drinks. 

“Hi,” James greets you, eyebrows lifting, “are these for us?” 

“Mhm.” You set them down on the table, sliding one to each of the boys. “I’m not sure what’s in them, but I asked for something sweet. Is that alright?” 

“More than alright.” James nods enthusiastically, claiming his. “Thanks, lovely.” 

“Did you make a friend?” Sirius asks. He can hear the grit in his own voice, but you don’t seem to. Your head only bobs placidly. 

“Yeah. A man at the bar said he wanted to buy me a drink, but I told him I wouldn’t feel right about it if he didn’t get some for my friends, too.” You guide your straw to your mouth, sipping. “His name is Marty, he seems very nice.” 

“Is that what you called us, then? Your friends?” 

You look perplexed. “Well, James and Remus are my friends. Is that okay?” 

Sirius softens. “Yeah,” he says, tearing his gaze away from Marty to look at you. “Sure it is. C’mere, doll.” 

You know what he wants without asking, moving your drink before slipping onto his lap unquestioningly. Sirius slips his arms around your waist, thumb stroking near your hip. You turn your face so your words brush his cheek. 

“You’re my friend, too, you know,” you say, softly. “Even if you’re also my love.” 

That makes Sirius smile, ignoring the way James and Remus are murmuring and snickering with each other. “Yeah?” 

“Of course.” You touch his arm. His sleeves are rolled up to the elbow, and you slip a finger inside one absently, running the circumference of his bicep. Little shivers of electricity crackle upwards from your touch. 

“Thanks, angel. I like that you’re my friend, too.” 

Conversation becomes easier after a while. Sirius finds he can talk with his friends, even laugh, so long as he keeps his hold on you and makes sure that every time Marty looks over at you, it’s Sirius’ eyes he meets instead. You seem oblivious to it all, the looking and the touching and the intermittent, silent fury that radiates off your boyfriend every time he remembers Marty making you smile, but after you’ve all finished your drinks you lean back and put your nose to Sirius’ cheek. 

“I don’t think,” you murmur, nosing at his stubble almost absently, “that Marty is going to buy us any more drinks if you keep looking at him like that.” 

Remus, overhearing, turns a smile into his glass. Sirius tries to act surprised. “Me? How am I looking at him?”

“You’re being mean.”

“I’m not.” 

“You are.” You deliver this news ever so gently, with a kiss to his jaw. “I don’t see why. He was nice to us.” 

“He was nice to you,” Sirius says automatically, some of the vitriol returning to his tone. He squeezes your hip just to feel the solidity of you in his hands. “I don’t think he’d have been quite so nice if he knew you had a boyfriend, sweetness.” 

Your brows come together. “Why not?” 

Oh, you’re adorable. Sirius kisses your frown, his fondness for you almost eclipsing his pique. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get our drinks from now on, okay?” 

“Okay,” you say, dubious. “Though I don’t see why we’d turn down free drinks if someone wants to be kind.” 

“Let me be kind to you, doll. Okay?” 

You soften, your eyes going sweet and liquid. “You’re always kind to me.” 

Sirius kisses you again, grinning now. “Damn right.” 

[psycholuvrgirl]

duplicity! [teaser]

rafe cameron x sweetheart!pogue!oc [baby porter]

summary: baby porter, the pogue princess, asks rafe cameron out on a date after losing a bet. to her surprise, rafe says yes.

warnings: nsfw (very brief smut)! 

a/n: this is just a teaser for this series. this series will follow the plot of obx, so a lot of it is going to seem very familiar, just with a twist because baby will be in it

wc: 2.1k

it was meant to be just one simple task: ask rafe cameron on a date. baby lost a bet with jj and the punishment was simple, but the problem is baby porter is, unlike most pogues, terribly shy.

“guys i don’t think i can do it,” she says, glancing across the boneyard where rafe was standing. he has an arm wrapped around his sister, sarah, laughing with kelce and topper about god knows what.

“you lost, baby, you gotta do it. deal’s a deal,” jj says.

“deal’s a deal,” she breathes out. “okay. i can do this.”

“you can do this,” kie assures.

baby stands from the log she was sat in, crossing the sandy expanse until she was right in the lion’s den of kooks. also unlike most pogues, baby got along with most of the kooks—she wasn’t like other pogues, which meant she wasn’t treated like one. so her presence didn’t seem to unnerve anyone in the group.

“sup, baby,” topper says, throwing back a swig of his beer.

“hi baby,” sarah says with a warm smile, “what’s up?”

“uh, well, actually…” baby straightens her back, clearing her throat and doing the best to sound as confident as she can. “i’m here to talk to rafe.”

“me?” rafe asks, pointing the lip of his bottle to his own chest.

“mhm,” baby says with a nod.

the kooks ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at this, making rafe mutter threats at them as he follows baby away. she shoots the pogues a glance—a final plea to be done with this, but they all just give her encouraging thumbs-ups. so she continues to lead rafe to a more secluded area.

“am i in trouble with the pogue princess?” he teases.

“don’t call me that,” baby says through a whisper.

baby isn’t sure when she earned the nickname “pogue princess” but she didn’t like it, not one bit. it made her feel weird, but for some reason the nickname coming from rafe’s lips didn’t seem to bother her as much as it normally would. but she quietly scolds him all the same.

they both take a seat on a large branch that washed ashore, rafe’s whole body turned towards baby as he awaits whatever it is she dragged him out here for. baby clears her throat, uncrossing her legs just to cross them back over.

“so, rafe…” she says.

he lets out a laugh. “so, baby…” he takes a sip of his beer. “what d’ya need?”

if baby has learned one thing from her pogue friends, it’d be to just “let it rip” in any circumstance that could remotely use that advice. so that’s what she does.

“will you go on a date with me?” she asks, words tumbling out faster than even she can comprehend.

“what?” he asks with another laugh, “i have no idea what you just said, b.”

she clears her throat again, sitting up straighter. “i said…” she looks down at her nails, picking at the pink polish coating them. “will you go on a date with me?”

she braces herself for rafe’s reaction. she expects laughter, for him to holler in her face and say the big “no” as if she just asked him for a million dollars.

“sure.”

her eyes bug out of her head, head snapping up to look at him. “what did you just say?”

“sure,” he repeats.

“y— you wanna go on a date? with me?” she asks. a small smile raises to his lips, the smile turning into a quiet chuckle. he nods, and baby’s eyes only widen further. “seriously?”

“yeah, i mean, you’re cute,” he says, “why not?”

her skin burns at the compliment. “you think i’m cute?”

“why do you sound so surprised? you know you’re cute,” he says.

“no i don’t,” she says.

“well…” rafe scoots closer to her, his cologne invading her senses. “i can assure you…” he kisses her left cheek. “that you, baby…” then her right. “are very cute.” his lips meet hers, just for a moment. the kiss is over almost as soon as it began and baby porter is still left a blubbering mess after it. her mouth opens to speak, then closes, then reopens. no words come out though, making rafe laugh just a little more. “how about tomorrow night? i’ll pick you up at around seven?”

she nods wordlessly and he chuckles.

“i’ll see you then,” he says, standing from the branch. he holds out a hand to her and she takes it, letting him pull her up effortlessly.

“see ya,” she breathes out.

he leans over, pressing a kiss to her cheek before walking away. she stands there stunned for far too long, and when she finally snaps back to reality she scurries back to her friends.

“how’d it go?” john b asks.

“should we start planning the wedding?” jj asks.

“he… he said yes,” baby says.

kiara’s head nearly snaps off from how quickly she turns, pope drops his beer on the sand, john b’s jaw falls slack, and jj spits out the beer in his mouth.

“he what?” pope asks.

“you’re going on a date with rafe cameron?” jj asks. before baby can answer, he howls with laughter. “oh my god, that is priceless!”

but, for some odd reason, baby porter didn’t find this funny—not even a little bit, not even at all.

“what are you even worried about?” jj asks, “it’s rafe fucking cameron. you don’t need to impress the guy, you just need to get this over with.”

a honk from outside pulls baby’s attention away from her friends. “that’s him.”

“we’ll walk you out,” pope says. baby turns to pope with a scrunched face. “what? it’s for safety reasons.”

baby sighs, reluctantly standing and allowing her four friends to follow her out of the chateau. rafe is on his phone, standing next to his car, and looks up at the sound of the front door shutting. he looks over baby’s outfit—a sundress over a bikini, just in case. his eyebrows raise as he looks her over, then his face falls as he notices the pogues behind her.

“have her home by eight,” jj says.

“jay, it’s only seven,” baby says, shooting jj a glare.

“fine. eight thirty,” he says.

“ignore him,” baby says with a small, nervous giggle. rafe laughs with her, but it’s evidently forced for her comfort.

“just, don’t do anything stupid,” kiara says, ever the blunt one in the group. “bring her back in one piece, okay?”

“okay,” rafe says, in hopes that they’d go away. and his wish is granted because they all reluctantly head back inside, tossing looks over their shoulders at baby. she doesn’t seem to notice though. no, not when her focus is on the tall man in front of her.

“hi,” she says.

he smiles. “hi.” he makes his way to her, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips that makes her heart flutter.

and the rest of the night goes the same. he brings her onto the druthers for a picnic under the stars, bringing them to the middle of the ocean so they have privacy, the stars and a few candles being the only light they have on the deck of the boat.

“have you ever gone night swimming?” baby asks.

“hasn’t everyone?” rafe asks. both of them are laying next to each other, most of the food packed away by now. they stare up at the stars as the silence of the night engulfs them, only breaking the silence every so often.

“probably,” baby says with a laugh, “i guess that was a silly question.”

“did you want to?” he asks, turning his head to look at her. “did you want to go night swimming?”

she turns to him with a bright smile, nodding rapidly. rafe gets up from his spot, helping baby up. he strips off his shirt as she gets rid of her dress. rafe runs and dives off the end of the boat and baby follows him, diving into the cold ocean. they both resurface, letting out joyous laughs when they see each other. 

despite everything she’s been told about rafe cameron, baby actually finds herself having the best night of her life with him. her heart sinks a little at the thought of everyone’s judgements making it take this long for her to ever get to know the beautiful boy in front of her.

“why are you frowning?” rafe asks.

“oh, am i? i didn’t mean to,” she says. baby swims closer to him and he grabs her, letting her wrap herself around him.

“are you not enjoying the date?” he asks.

“no, i am!” she exclaims, her heart quickening at the thought of him believing this is anything other than perfect. “i’m loving tonight, honest!”

“then what’s wrong?” he asks, tucking a soaked strand of hair behind her ear.

“it’s just… you’re so different than what i expected,” she says, “i wish i had asked you sooner.”

rafe doesn’t bother with words. he was never good with words anyways. instead he presses his lips to hers, their lips moving passionately with one another. heads twisting as baby holds onto rafe just that much tighter. like he might slip away if she doesn’t, like the moment might fade to nothing if she lets him go.

the brush of something against her leg has baby scrambling to climb rafe, ruining their perfect kiss as she yelps.

“what was that! something touched my foot!” she exclaims. rafe breaks into a fit of laughter, but she’s still trying to climb him as if he’s a tree. “it’s not funny, rafe!”

she quickly swims over to the side of the boat, hauling herself up and shivering on the ledge. he follows her up and guides her inside. the air is warmer down below and rafe wraps a towel around baby’s shoulders.

“there you go,” he whispers.

“thank you,” she says with a shy smile.

rafe responds by reconnecting their lips, cupping her cheek with one hand as the other lands on her waist. her arms wrap around his neck, letting her hands move through his hair. when his tongue slips against hers, caressing it sensually, she lets out a whimper that goes straight to rafe’s dick.

he gently nudges her down onto the couch. he hovers above her without detaching their lips. he pulls at the tie of her bikini top, slipping the fabric away. he pulls back and looks down at her with hearts in his eyes.

“wow,” he whispers. baby crosses her arm over her chest, but he gently pries it away to continue admiring her. then, he dives in. his lips wrap around one nipple, his hand massaging the other. he switches after some time, leaving baby to mewl at the sensations he’s causing. 

“kiss me again,” she says, trying to pull him up. he obliges, climbing back up to bring their lips back to their prior rhythmic dance together. his hand slips down her body, falling beneath her bikini bottom and massaging her wet slit. she lets out a quiet whimper as he gathers the wetness on his fingers, then a loud moan when he brings his fingers to her clit.

“you like that?” he asks. she nods her head and he dips back down to kiss her, swallowing every moan that falls from her pretty lips.

he slowly pushes one finger inside of her, then another. leaving her a mess underneath him. she grinds up towards him, chasing her own release.

“rafe, please,” she pleads as he slips his fingers in and out of her.

“please what, baby?” he pants. she’s past using words at this point, too lost in her own pleasure to make her mouth form anything coherent. so she takes matters into her own hands, literally. she drops her hand down to cup him, massaging him through his board shorts. she slips her hand inside, wrapping her tiny hand around his length. they both grind into one another’s hands, chasing their highs. when they both get their release they lay there, content with one another’s company. 

interrupted by the ringing of baby’s phone, they both reluctantly go back to the deck to retrieve the device.

“did he kidnap you? what’s taking so long?” kiara asks.

baby rolls her eyes, “i’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“tomorrow?” john b shrieks.

“goodbye guys.”

since that night, rafe and baby have been inseparable. in secret, that is. both went home to report to their friends that the date was just a bust, both knowing that if their friends knew about their successful date that they’d never hear the end of it. so that’s how the relationship went. sneaking out late at night, long weekends spent alone together, calls until the early morning. it worked for them — secret, intimate, and just perfect.

[thesuperiorrobin]

She knew~

pairing: Damian Wayne x Crush!Reader

Warning: Agnsty? Not that much I promise, good ending, maybe, slight swearing? Reader is a bit flirty??? I think there’s a part 2.

There's something about laying in a hospital bed that's so humbling for Damian.

His arm was in a cast and his head was wrapped in bandages. A mission went wrong, that was covered up by a so-called "terrible car accident". Everybody believed it, because why would they believe the truth of Damian taking a bad fall dress up in his Robin uniform? Some of his brothers tease him for what had happened that night, and if he wasn't held back by his position in the hospital he was sure he would have all their heads on a stick by now. His father didn't seem any bit worried about him, that's what Damian thought, after the countless scoldings he's gotten he's sure his father doesn't care.

Damian has spent the last two days in the hospital, on the third day he'll be released. And he can't wait, the smell, the atmosphere the so-called food they serve him-- he can't wait to leave it all behind. But for now, Damian lies on the slightly uncomfortable bed with a book in his good hand. His family hasn't bothered him in a while and he's thankful for that, he's gotten used to soft voices through his room door and soft beeping occasionally that seemed to echo through his hospital room.

There’s a soft knock on the door that catches his attention and he groans—thinking it’s one of his family members coming to visit home again.

Damian prays it’s just a nurse coming to check up on him. He chooses not to answer and after a few seconds the door opens up—the person who steps into his dull white room was not the person he was expecting.

In you go, with a bouquet in your hand dressed in your school uniform.

"Hey" your voice is soft and careful "how are you feeling?"

Damian doesn't answer right away, he pretends to think about his answer before he clears his throat "I feel like I could be doing better at the moment" he places his book down.

"Here, these are for you" you hand him the flowers "I just came to see how you were doing, everybody's worried”

"Only because I'm the son of Bruce Wayne" he murmurs, glaring at you softly—scoffing as he does so.

"That's not true" you frown, He gives you a look "Well Maybe, yeah I guess you're right, but I'm worried Damian. I saw the news and the cars. Damian you could have been killed"

"But I wasn't L/N so there is no need to worry about that anymore"

You let out a sigh as you pull a chair beside him on his bed, It's been a while since you last saw him, two weeks to be precise almost three. Your eyes linger on him for a bit longer. He looks more tired than usual and angry. His hair is messy, with strands of hair spiked up in random directions. Though purple and blue covered his skin from head to toe he still seemed visually breathtaking.

"Did you just come here to just stare at me?" He snaps, and you jump back in your seat, a part of him regrets snapping at you so suddenly, that you clear your throat with a smile.

"Sorry, I'm just used to you being….” You trail off for a moment trying to find the right words to not offend the younger Wayne in his condition. “…so well organized. If I had a penny for every time I've seen you a mess I would have one”

His only response was a hum, and the room was silent between you two. The only sound echoing through the room was the soft voices from outside the room and the beeping of the monitor. “It’s quiet in most of the classes now. Did you know that?”

“How so?”

“Teachers pointed out how quiet the classes are since you’ve gotten stuck in the hospital. We’re known for yapping away in the back of class” You let out a breathy laugh, glancing up at Damian who holds a frown.

“You mean yourself?” Damian raises his brow at you “I normally don’t hold conversations. The teachers were probably talking about you—you do tend to talk a lot”

“Rude” You huff out and a chuckle leaves the injured Wayne's lips, which brings a smile to yours “But I guess you’re right, I don’t have anyone to talk to. You’re usually the only have I have a good laugh within class”

Somehow, your hand finds his. All bandaged and bruised but you don’t mind and Damian says nothing. His green eyes glance down at your face, hoping to meet yours but you keep them focused down at his hand. Despite the thick layer of bandages, he can still feel the warmth of your fingers as they softly glide against his palm.

“I miss complementing your artwork, it’s not the same when I’m looking beside me and see someone else’s artwork”

“You only compliment them when you copy my notes” he hums, “you say it as a thank you when I let you do so”

“Mhm..” you hum “but now, every time I look beside me there’s always a student sleeping with their paper blank”

“Maybe you should start writing your notes….”

“I could…” you trail off, head lifting slightly to meet his eyes. “But what’s the point if I can’t use it as an excuse to talk to you?”

It takes a while for Damian to answer fully. He can feel his skin feel out, and he’s sure you can fill it, too, with a smug smile on your face. He looks away, away from your eyes, as he answers, “True….”

There’s another long silence between you two, a comfortable one and Damian can feel your hand slip away from his—it takes so much in him not to grab ahold of your hand once more. He hears the sudden screech of the chair against the floor, he turns his head—eyes locking in on your form. He wishes you could stay a little longer, your presence is the only thing that doesn’t annoy him as much as others do, and a part of him wants to tell you to stay a bit more but he bites his tongue.

He sees your hand hover over the doorknob, and you seem to hesitate for a moment, he does wish you decided to stay a bit longer. A heavy sigh leaves your lips, turning around to glance back at Damian, who only stares at you confusedly.

"Just because you wear a mask in the middle of the night while playing hero Damian, doesn't mean you're invincible"

huh?

"But anyway ill visit you tomorrow so I can hand you the homework you missed"

you give him one last smile before your figure disapears from his sight. Even after you left, his eyes burn holes at the door for a few more minutes before groaning and pulling at his hair in stress

"She knew?!"

Literally in the middle of my Art history class writing this Because I had nothing better to do.

[rollingeevee]

good god your bite post has invaded my mind and it hasn't left since i read it, it's spinning in my brain like in a microwave

all i can think about is shadow milk's little (prey) lover running away and getting somewhat far, thinking they're actually getting away with it until the bite's effects kick in and suddenly it's so hard to think and move and where were they going anyway? what if they just sat down and stared into space for a while? that would feel nice, right?

the magic oozing from the bite squeezing their brain and soul, making everything feel heavy and fuzzy until shadow milk just strolls by, clicks his tongue, teases them a little for trying to leave and goes to pick them up and bring them back

there's no kicking and screaming, they cannot muster up the mental strength to do it, just slight bitter resignation on their part as they can do nothing but accept their fate and perhaps try again at a later date but there's a little voice at the back of their head that doesn't understand why they were running away in the first place, a voice that urges them to melt into their captor's touch (totally not shadow milk's doing guys no it's all you)

mental and magical manipulation? it's more likely than you think!

bonus points if the bite mark's pain gets duller/softer when they behave for their beast

anyway thank you for sharing your thoughts your writing is amazing and if you have more ideas related to the bites i am begging i am on my knees-

AAAAAA I’m so glad to hear you liked it so much! 😭 /VVVPOS

Ooooooo! I quite like this! I can definitely see smth similar happening! Personally tho, I see Shadow Milk taking a more manipulative approach to when he finds his lil runaway darling again. I wrote a lil blurb below to showcase :)

The further you got from the Spire, the more relief you felt. By the Witches… you’d done it! You were free!

You suddenly let out a choked gasp as you feel an incredibly painful tightening sensation in your chest. You fall to your knees, clutching at your heart. Your mind is empty as your body feels like it is being squeezed, your breath continuously escaping, despite your desperation to pull in air.

“Oh, goodness!” You hear his voice exclaim. “What happened to you, doll?”

What happened? What happened?! What… what did happen…? You were running… Yes, you were running from the Spire! But… why…?

Shadow Milk Cookie tuts sympathetically as he gently scoops you into his arms. “Oh, poor dear… Did you get lost? I told Candy Apple Cookie and Black Sapphire Cookie to keep an eye on you and ensure your safety!” He cradles you close to his chest as he makes his way back to the Spire. “Don’t worry, dollface~ Your darling jester, Shadow Milk Cookie, has arrived to save the day! I’ll make sure to get you back home where you belong in no time!” He finishes his declaration with a sweet kiss to your neck, where you can faintly detect a throbbing pain that seems to ease in response to his affection.

Where you belong…? Yes… Yes, right back where you belong… That’s a nice thought…

So why is your heart crying out that something is wrong…?

WEEEEEE! So yes, I can definitely see manipulation being there (it’s Shadow Milk, whaddya expect?), but I can see the magic from the bite invading the mind as it simultaneously attacks the body. You weren’t running for freedom, you just got lost while playing a game. Luckily, your sweet Beast, Shadow Milk Cookie, was able to find you in time before anything terrible could happen to you~! So stay, where it’s safe, and where you’re always within arms reach~

In addition to that, I love the idea of the pain getting duller and duller the more a Beast’s darling behaves for them! I added onto that a lil and made it so that, in addition to that, the only other way for the pain to dull is from direct affection to the bite area by the Beast. This gives further incentive to the darling to be well behaved and compliant for their Beast.

I may try to do lil snippets or one shots for each of the Beasts and their bites going into effect later on, given how much people seemed to like them, but we’ll see! I hope you enjoyed this tho! :D

[apeachty]

₊ ˚ ⊹ ♡ . ⠀birthday cat | kth

⠀⠀⠀taehyun x fem!reader

genre ; smut

warnings | tags ; cumming inside with no protection & no protection mentioned too; reader is not a gym girlie like at all (and is kinda stiff too); taehyun is itty bitty rough, but not in details?..

wordcount ; 0.7k

✉ notes ; happy birthday, taehyun! the member who is the best in anything he does! it was my very first impression (to do x txt ep 3 where he won the games other members were terrible at), and it stayed the same.

i hope to write more for him in the future and overcome struggles with writing him, but i'd probably go for the most basic and cliché scenarios at first (like that one.....) ANYWAY i hope you enjoy it 🤍

⠀⠀⠀[ masterlist is here ]

that year, taehyun's birthday happened to fall on a wednesday. he didn’t have any issues with wednesdays, but since he was on a break, he tried to maintain his workout schedule without skipping days without a valid reason. however, a little celebration with the members was planned for the afternoon, and a bigger one in the evening with his family. you'd be with him for both, but it seemed like the two of you wouldn't have any private time together.

taehyun was ready to skip today's workout just to spend time with you when you asked if you could join him. you rarely did, as he preferred to work out early while you stayed in bed. he knew he would spend more time looking after you as you curiously tested out all the equipment in the home gym. nevertheless, he agreed—a little workout was better than none at all.

what taehyun didn't expect was that you would start stretching. yoga pants weren't easy already, but he was glad you were wearing an oversized t-shirt that covered everything—until you sat down and had to take it off because it was in the way, leaving you in just a sports bra and now perfectly open yoga pants. he had to stop his own workout because lifting weights was dangerous when all his attention was solely focused on you.

"need a hand?" taehyun asked, sitting on the floor next to you as you struggled to get into a proper downward dog, your limbs shaking slightly. as you nodded, he placed his hand on your lower back. “you should start with something easier,” he pushed your hips down until you were standing on your hands and knees. kneeling behind you, he spread your legs with his, his breath hitching at the view.

taehyun placed his palm on your bare back, making you shiver as he gently pushed it to make you arch your back. he pressed his hips flush against yours, his hard-on feeling so good through the thin fabric of his sweatpants and your yoga pants, making your arms tremble.

you mewled, head hung low, when his fingers dipped under the waistband, caressing the skin beneath. when you didn't protest, instead moving your hips to meet taehyun's moves, he dragged the yoga pants and underwear down to your knees, making you hiss at the feeling of cool air hitting your already wet center.

"i d-don't remember poses like that in yoga," you whimpered, and he ground his still-covered dick against you, turning your words into a moan.

"yeah?" taehyun placed his palm between your shoulder blades, pushing it down while trying to tug his sweatpants and underwear down with the other hand. you got the hint, lowering your shoulders onto the yoga mat, the view from behind making taehyun groan. he finally managed to free himself, wrapping a hand around his shaft and rubbing the tip against your folds, spreading his precum. “stretch your arms forward.”

you obeyed, mewling something incoherent in response, not even sure yourself what it was, brain already fogged as you reached back with one hand, nails digging into firm muscles of his thigh as you tried to pull him closer. taehyun obliged, aligning himself before pushing inside, slowly stretching you to make sure he didn’t hurt you. his next movement, though, wasn’t so gentle already, as he snapped his hips forward in a harsh thrust, his fingers tangled in your hair. 

you whimpered into the yoga mat, arching your back more, palms pressed against the floor over your head. the slaps of skin against skin and the harsh pants, moans and whimpers echoed off the walls, as taehyun’s hips pounded into your ass with a force that had you seeing stars, your vision blurring at the edges.

it didn't take long before you were crying out, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm as it crashed over you. you clenched down around taehyun, your walls fluttering and milking his cock as he followed you over the edge, spilling himself deep inside you with a groan of your name.

you collapsed onto the mat together, taehyun's body blanketing yours as you both struggled to catch your breath. he pressed soft kisses to your shoulders, neck and jaw before murmuring into your skin, still breathless a bit. “it was extended puppy pose.”

you pressed your forehead into the mat, chuckling quietly. “birthday pervert. i love you.”

taehyun moved down a bit, pressing his lips to your shoulder blade. “i love you more.”

[dyingswanpavlova]

Your ghostly lover

Chapter 1

Pairing: Jaime Lannister × Targaryen!Reader × Aemond Targaryen

Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Mentions of Violence and Murder, Mentions of Forced Marriage, Threatening, Isolation, Loneliness, Ghosts and Spirits, Joffrey being Joffrey and butchering some rats

Author's note: This is a House of the Dragon/Game of Thrones-Crossover. The first chapter takes place in the past. The wedding doesn't take place until the Reader is 19.

You're one of the last two living Targaryens. While your sister Daenerys roams free across the Narrow Sea, you're being forced to marry the man who once killed your father. The Kingslayer has yet to find out about the spirit that lives in your mirror and his evil plans.

Six Years Ago

Life was a terrible thing.

In your book, things were going pretty roughly. Was it destiny? Fate? Or maybe you were made to suffer, because of the mistakes you made in your past life. Another theory you had was that you had to pay for the terrible things your ancestors did. Your father, for a start, had been a terrible person. That much was out of question.

Your sister was on her best way to destroy the rest of the world.

Your brothers, they were more complicated. Viserys had been a lost cause, ever since he had been forced to flee. Of course life had taken a toll on him, but did that really make up for all the terrible things he did?

Rhaegar. Rhaegar had been…good, or so you thought. So you had heard.

You missed him. Actually, you missed them all. Without even knowing them.

You were the youngest, the babe of the family, if so you wish. But that didn’t help you much back in the day.

As problems come, this one came fast and unexpected. Your eldest brother died in battle, while your father got murdered by the man who swore to protect him. The same man you were now forced to wed.

Poor, little you. Too tiny and helpless, nothing more than a bundle of joy and youthfulness, when life took its toll on your family. Everyone else either made it out or got butchered.

Daenerys and Viserys were gone. Viserys made sure of it. And of course, he tried his best to keep you safe as well. But to take care of two little babes at once? When he, himself, was no more than a boy?

He set you down for no longer than a minute, desperate to find a way to get out of this godforsaken place. He only had two arms, and yet two little bundles to carry. Three mouths to feed. No milk in sight.

And when the men with the golden colored cloaks came, he had no choice.

It was too late for you anyway. And at least, you wouldn’t know what was going on. You were tiny and helpless. They would make it quick, right?

So, your brother scurried off, your sister in his arm, while you stayed on the concrete, writhing and crying, all cold and alone.

Poor, little you.

And even more so, because it was the Kingslayer himself who found you. They all had the same specific order.

Kill them all.

No matter the age, the size, the gender or how tiny and helpless they were.

He was supposed to kill you.

But when he picked your tiny form up, amethyst eyes full of tears and your little fists swinging through the air, he felt himself smile a sad smile.

A stubborn one. So fierce.

And in the end, he couldn’t do it. He knew, obviously, it might cost him his head. But no matter what or who he was, he wasn’t that.

He was not the right man to butcher a babe. And so he didn’t.

Sooner than later, you found yourself in the arms of the new king. Whatever it was that you possessed – maybe the fire in your big eyes? The innocence? – it gave him pause. To everyone’s great surprise, the new named king didn’t kill you.

If only he did. It would have spared you such heartbreak.

The next few years, you grew up in the Red Keep. Of course you were no one’s child. Expect for your hair color and the amethyst glint in your eyes, there was nothing Targaryen about you.

Aside from your stupid pride and your stubbornness.

You spent your days reading and watching the knights fight in the training yard. Your best chance for some company was your governess, but even that was an old woman, devoid of any emotion.

You were no one’s child.

And you name was given.

The king came from time to time to see how things were going. How you settled in in a world in which you didn’t belong. His children and his gruesome wife eyed you with disdain.

No, that was not true. The eldest one did, and the mother for sure.

The girl was curious and the boy was rather frightened. You loved to make a habit of scaring him. He was like a lost pup and for some reason you found it rather delightful how big his eyes got, whenever you attempted to lunge at him and stopped the last second.

The witch, how you liked to call her, would scold you and threaten you with all kinds of vile crimes, until her tiny, little brother came by and stopped her.

You hated her. You hated everyone.

And what you hated most was how no one spoke to you.

You were no one’s child and you were no one’s responsibility. In court, you saw children with their mothers. They picked them up and cradled them close, when they were weeping.

Weaklings, you thought. But it was not your heart that spoke there. It was your wounded pride and your loneliness.

Oh, how you wished to have a mother. A father. A sibling even. Someone to banter and to argue with, someone who wasn’t Joffrey. He was a twisted little rodent. Someone who cut open living rats, just to see their blood flow and the life leave their eyes as they hissed and cried. Someone who yanked on your hair and cried to his mother when you yanked at his.

Until the witch finally got her will. And you weren’t allowed near anyone. No one spoke to you, unless Tyrion came to fetch you some books. He pitied you, you could tell. How sad was that? Being pitied by the most pitied person in Westeros. Maybe that was the reason, you thought. He knew how it felt. But at least he was someone. You were no-one.

So you read. And you watched. Observed. Listened. But you never spoke.

Everyone was going about their own business, ignoring your existence as good as they could.

Sandor would glance at you with disdain whenever you threw a tantrum, and yet he’d be the one to pull you back, whenever you got into too much trouble.

There was that one time when you were in an especially bad mood. You felt there was no one the world who cared about you and what was far worse, you didn’t care about anyone either. What was there to live for in this godforsaken place?

You mustered up some courage, which wasn’t all too hard. You were a stubborn little wench.

Once the castle got surrounded by darkness, you snuck out of your chambers and blindly stepped your way through the halls. You knew the walls and every stone on the way, because all you did was observe. It wasn’t like you had other children around you to play with. All you had were your books and all the adults you had grown to despise. One more than the other and so on.

So that particular night, you were ready to leave this all behind, cornering the next hallway, when a firm voice stopped you. You froze instantly.

He was that one person you couldn’t quite decipher. You were almost sure, he had never spoken a single word to you. When you caught sight of him, he looked away immediately. It was like there was an invisible wall. And whenever you got too close to it, he pushed you back with all the fervor his constant ignorance and disdain could muster.

“Where do you think you are going?”

With the softest sigh, you turned back around. Your hair was a mess from all the tossing and turning and your eyes glassy by the way you hated life. This one, at least.

“I-“

“No, forget it. Follow me.”

You sighed again and with slow, hesitant steps followed the Kingslayer back to your chambers. He held the door open and ushered you inside. The guards nearby got the scolding of their life, but you? He didn’t regard with yet another glance. He disappeared back into the night and left you alone with your sadness.

You didn’t truly mind. You found, there was something unsettling about him. Of course you knew the rumors about him and his sister, the witch of Westeros. And if one paid close attention, you could see the lewd glanced they’d share from time to time.

It wasn’t that you cared about that per say. It was more that you couldn’t understand how anyone ever managed to love that heartless hag. Not even him. The knight who held no soul.

You were clever enough never to let anyone see your sadness outright. When it came to these people, the ones who fiercely ignored you, you had no feelings but anger and no traits but stubbornness.

It wasn’t until another night, few years later, when someone was kind to you. You couldn’t quite tell who it was, you just knew she was old, but her eyes were gentle. Much different from your governess’ or the dark lord who owned Casterly Rock and half of Westeros.

“Dear child. Forgive me the intrusion.”

You had eyed her suspiciously, half-expecting her to set your hair on fire by Cersei’s order. You had been no older than ten and three, when the old man approached your chambers.

“I used to work for your mother, you see.”

Now, that caught your interest.

“My mother? What do you know about my mother?”

The warmth in her smile had been enough to make you feel wistful and even more lonely.

“I know that she loved you very much. Which was also the reason, why she gave birth to you, despite all the high risks. She knew she would not make it, child. But she still had you.”

A low, sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach later, she added: “I have something of hers. And I think you should have it, instead.”

Her visit had been short-lived, but her presence stayed with you. It changed the entire course of your life and probably, the whole future of Westeros.

It was a mirror. A pretty one, indeed, but simply a mirror. It felt odd in your hand. No one ever gave you any presents, except for Tyrion and his countless books. But this, it was different. The weight of the mirror in your hand made you feel somewhat comforted. It was your mothers. Your mothers.

She had loved you.

Someone had loved you.

Even if no one did now, it gave you endless comfort to know, that there once been someone who did.

After holding onto the mirror tightly for what felt like an eternity, you finally set it down and choked back your own tears. Was this how life was supposed to make you feel?

The next thing you remembered varied in your mind. It had been too much and too overwhelming to remember it clearly. It was just too odd. Your mind couldn’t comprehend and so it made up new scenarios and details whenever you thought back to it.

In some versions of the memory, you heard his voice first.

In other versions, you saw the soft glow that gleamed around the handle first, slowly stretching out over the cold surface.

Whatever it was, it was.

And suddenly you weren’t alone anymore.

“Princess.”

A voice so soft-spoken that you hardly recognized it. No, you were sure you were making up things. Maybe the mirror was indeed a cruel jest Cersei pulled on you. Maybe it was tinged in something, some substance, that made you lose your mind.

“Princess.” You heard again. Soft and gentle, like a caress.

You had no idea what a caress felt like.

When you heard him a third time, you were suddenly certain. It was indeed real. You stiffened when you realized the sound came from the mirror.

There was a tight knot in your stomach, as well as your throat.

“What?” You murmured. “What is this-“

You sat up carefully and glanced down to where the mirror was set, only to realize it wasn’t your own reflection you were seeing.

With a soft shriek, you recoiled and scurried over the bed, nearly falling to the ground. This wasn’t a trick, but you wished it was.

He had long, straight hair that looked like it was made of silk, in the same color your own hair was tinged. His expression was soft, but there was something so off about him. His one eye was amethyst-colored like your own were, but the other one, you couldn’t tell. It was covered by a black eye-patch, his lips pressed into a straight line.

He was a pretty sight, indeed. Beautiful even. More handsome than any man, any knight you had ever seen.

But why was he there? Why was he at all?

“I can hear your breathing, princess.” God, his voice felt like a thousand little stabs, caused by the gentleness of a cloud. “Fear not. I wish to see you. ‘tis me, princess. I am your blood.”

After what felt like forever you slowly crawled back over the bed, but not yet enough to face him fully.

“What are you?” You heard yourself whisper in a voice that was your hardly your own.

What then happened was even more strange. His lips curved into a smile and it lit up his entire face. The dark, gloomy prince, who missed an eye, suddenly became something kind and gentle. It made you swallow.

“Not what, princess. Who. ‘tis me, your blood.” He repeated. “You may have heard of me. Aemond. Aemond Targaryen.”

That made you pause. And suddenly you felt nauseous.

Aemond Targaryen? The prince? The same prince who had died so long ago?

“What? You cannot be. Aemond Targaryen died and I am talking to a mirror, for the Gods’ sake! You can tell Cersei-“

“I am not sent by Cersei, princess.”

“Then who sent you?!” Your disbelief slowly turned into anger. Whatever trick this was, it felt cruel to you. You had no one after all. And to make fun of your parentage like this? It was simply cruel.

“No one sent me.” He sighed in a way that made you feel calmer than before, but also tired. “Let me see you, princess. I promise you, I will bring no harm your way.”

You fought and argued with yourself in your head. The clever thing would have been to discard the mirror and inform…Who would you even inform? No one spoke to you and no one would believe you. You would end up the mad girl. So, with a soft sigh of your own, you picked up the mirror, but you held it as far away from your body as you could. And then you faced him, very carefully.

He observed your reaction and his lip twitched in amusement.

“Look at that. The princess is fearless.”

You frowned at that. “I am no princess.”

His good eye shot open. “They poisoned your mind.” He murmured.

Your frown deepened. “Who?”

“The bad people.” He hummed softly. Everything about him was so…calm. “The lions.”

After a beat, he quietly asked: “Do you even know who you are?”

You had a rough idea about it, but you weren’t entirely sure. You knew your parentage held some kind of importance to some people, but that was in the past. You were left to fend for yourself, in a pit filled with lions, but no dragons in sight.

“I…”

He tsked softly.

“My darling, darling girl. It is about time your fire returned. And I will make sure it does.”

[drdemonprince]

I was writing this when I saw your most recent substack post on sexuality, so please forgive if I'm not super coherent.

As someone who has been living in a country without much, if any, real legal protections for most of my time as an out trans person, that while I understand the fear right now is high it was not until a few years ago that we did not exist at all in the public consciousness. That terrible prison show was the first time a trans woman appeared in a not "haha look at the gross tranny" way, and that was maybe 10 years ago. Non-binary people existence is even more recent. While I get having a bunch of religious fanatics hate you sucks, from what I gathered despite some claiming otherwise, the rest of the people don't really care that much. It's an issue that gets blown up by the media because it's nice and controversial which gets ratings (or these days, clicks/views), and, as a made-up problem, allows politicians to appear strong and decisive. (Also, there being lots of local differences and court stuff I can't even begin to understand influencing this because your country is very confusing.) It's hard for me to properly measure what people claim and what is actually true.

Come what comes, but there's a difference between preparing for the worst and assuming it already happens. This is going to sound callous, but people need to remember that as much as it sucks to stuck in survival mode and not being able to get government documents corrected, they probably have the grit deep-down to get through this. Maybe it's easy for me to talk, I used to work in building when I was on hormones, didn't tell anyone in that setting, and just shrugged it off and cherished the time I spent with friends & supportive people who knew me as *me*, and lied through my teeth whenever it was necessary and off from being assaulted a few times (not work related, school days) without major injuries because I was good at getting the fuck out. Then again, I've had a therapist tell me I'm scary good at compartmentalizing, so take that as you will.

Now we finally get to why that post about sexuality prompted all this. The bit about the trans woman finally being able to relax when dommed... That struck a nerve, which is strange because I don't really have much sex-drive, but that kind of softness is not something I've had in my life much. Always in the role of taking care and looking after others, never being on the receiving end, not just emotionally, but sexually also because oh dear is it an ordeal when people project the trans dommy mommy shit on you. Especially as now, 8 years after the first go around I find myself being the calm and collected one supporting others again and it's not even a conscious act on my or their behalf, despite setting boundaries (and having them respected mainly) I somehow got the invisible label of "mom who got her shit together" (as if) when I too would sometimes like to unwind and get fucked properly into the next timezone.

thank you for your message. I hope that a lot of younger or less seasoned American trans people who are freaking the fuck out right now are able to put some of their own understandable stress activation aside to read it and really take it in. also, it's a real bummer when people lean on you to always be the strong and capable one. and it is miserable how this role gets voiced upon us simply by virtue of having endured a great deal, or having grown a little bit older than some other people. obviously in your case this dynamic is far more deeply entrenched because of misogyny and transmisogyny and how that shapes people's expectations of the labor that women provide to them, especially trans women, but I do understand a little bit of how miserable it feels to be shunted into that kind of role. and I hope that somebody really just pounds you into the mattress or gives you whatever kind of sexual attention and care-taking helps you feel weak and needy and okay and like somebody else has it all together for a while sometime soon.

[fakecrfan]

The Wickham Rule

If there was one piece of social advice I could make everyone on tumblr follow, it would be the social rule that I personally call "The Wickham Rule."

I codified this rule for myself after reading Pride and Prejudice and mulling over the character of George Wickham. Wickham, in the novel, is a man who immediately presents himself to the heroine with a sob story about how terribly he's been mistreated by Mr. Darcy.

Elizabeth is naturally inclined to be sympathetic to him, for a variety of social reasons. But it turns out to be bullshit. Wickham has left out the key detail that he tried to groom and elope with Darcy's 15 year old sister.

Wickham's social strategy here is clear in hindsight.

He identifies an audience and group that will be inclined to be receptive.

He frontloads his first impression with the image of being victimized, so that his target will feel sorry for him (and thus will feel bad if they are suspicious. "Poor Mr. Wickham! He doesn't deserve people questioning him on top of everything else!")

He poisons the well against previous people who might have (truthful!) bad things to say about him.

Wickham later pulls a similar trick with Elizabeth's 16 year old sister that he did with Darcy's, sleeping with her and then extorting money before he marries her.

So what is the rule, then? Well, it's simply this.

Don't automatically trust people who frontload their sob story at you.

I am serious. People will try to weaponize sympathy to get things from you. Not everyone who tells you a sob story is doing this, but when someone you barely know does it right away, you should ask yourself a few things.

Is this an appropriate time and place for them to bring this up?

Is there a valid reason for them to bring this up? Were they asked? Or did they start to go off about it without a launching point?

Is there something they have to gain by bringing this up?

Does this story require another person who can't easily defend themselves to be the bad guy?

Special note: they may be autistic or have bad social skills. This does not mean they are not trying to manipulate you. Autistic people or other people with bad social acuity will, on occasion, still try to manipulate people to get things, same as any other person. And they might be better at it than you expect.

Now of course, even if the answer is yes to all of these questions it doesn't mean they're lying or trying to get something from you. But it's something you should keep in mind as a possibility.

It also doesn't mean you should immediately act hostile or suspicious! The appropriate response to this sort of behavior is something like "That sounds rough, I am so sorry," without investing your automatic trust or belief into this person.

[dandylovesturtles]

a comment on the other Step-brothers AU post made me think that yeah, I didn't really get into the interpersonal relationships at play and since this is still plaguing my mind and I wanna talk about it, here's the start of what will probably end up a very long post about the family dynamics in the Step-brothers AU

this is mainly focused on the main fam + April because if I start doing all the Caseys and other side characters too I'll die

let's start with big bro Sondheim

Sondheim and Draxum: As I mentioned in the first post, Heim has a really hard time not seeing Draxum as his boss, even after their rescue. The AU Draxum never encouraged any parental/child feelings between them, so Heim just has no idea how to approach it. Initially Draxum likes this ("Why can't the rest of you be as respectful as Sondheim?"), but eventually he realizes that Heim acts like that because there's a lack of trust and intimacy in their relationship. It will really take Heim getting closer to his little brothers, and learning to open up to them, that will lead into Draxum and Heim getting closer and moving into a familial relationship.

Sondheim and Raph: Heim is initially quite intimidated by Raph, not only because Raph is bigger than him but also because Raph seems to have himself together in a way Heim simply doesn't feel like he does (even if he seems to on the outside). Heim is also a bit jealous of how easily Raph interacts with the rest of his family, while Heim feels such a wall between himself and his brothers and dad. But ultimately Raph will be a great role model for Heim, and the two of them grow quite close, as Heim is willing to go to Raph for any big-brother advice. Also, while Heim generally acts pretty sociable and well-adjusted, he's also quite macho acting, since that's what was expected of him from the rest of the soldiers. Being around Raph, who is open with displays of affection and who still loves plushies even as an older teen, is great for helping Heim move into more healthy displays of masculinity. For Raph's part, he worries sometimes that he's not going to live up as the role model Heim needs, but he doesn't really need to worry so much.

Sondheim and Leo: On the surface, these two seem to have a great relationship - the two of them can chat easily and never fight. But if you actually paid attention to their conversations, you'd realize they're quite... surface level. As both Heim and Leo are very "conceal don't feel" types, neither of them push the other to open up, and as a result their conversations stay casual and peter out before long. This leads to them feeling quite distant from each other. It will take both of them growing their emotional maturity individually before they can get over the wall between them, probably more when they're adults. But they do like each other.

Sondheim and Donnie: Years of knowing Viv did not prepare Heim for Donnie, and honestly he's kind of scared. He doesn't know what to make of him, and he knows even less what to make of everyone's tolerance for his insane behavior. An explosion in the lair and no one's even getting up from their seats? Hello?? They have some of the same problems as Heim and Leo at first, but Heim has a hidden competitive side that comes out when he's playing games, and once the two of them start playing video games and board games together, it comes out and the two of them start really having fun together. As Heim gets more open and less worried about being abandoned, he and Donnie have the sort of relationship where they will openly shittalk each other for fun.

Sondheim and Wilde: Unlike Viv and Sulley, Wilde's attempts at bullying Heim never went anywhere. Heim was never intimidated by Wilde, and he emulated the nasty attitude the rest of the soldiers had toward Wilde, until making fun of him behind his back (and sometimes to his face) became second nature. As a result, Wilde and Heim have a pretty terrible relationship at first! Heim feels open to taking care of Viv and Sulley, but come on - does he really have to be a big brother to that guy? But in contrast to how Leo can't push Heim at all, Wilde can push Heim a lot, with all his exposed nerves right on the surface, and the barely concealed rage that Heim can actually relate to. Their rocky start leads to the two of them being accidentally more open with each other, leading to a slow but steady turn around in their relationship. Eventually Heim and Wilde are as close as the OU A Team, but it takes quite a lot of work to get there.

Sondheim and Vivaldi: Heim and Viv have always had a straight forward, business-like relationship, never exchanging many words other than to pass along orders. They initially maintain a very similar relationship once they start living together as brothers, neither of them really knowing how to have a relationship that goes deeper. Both of them struggle with learning who they are as people, let alone deal with all the new family dynamics that have been thrown their way. But because their struggles are so similar, Viv ends up having an easier time talking out his frustrations with Heim. Heim is less willing to open up to Viv, feeling responsible for him as an older brother, but soon enough talking through Viv's issues turns into Heim talking through his issues, too. The two of them for a very close bond over this, each feeling like the other is the only person in the world who understands what they're going through. Viv is the brother Heim grows closest to the fastest.

Sondheim and Mikey: While Viv is the brother Heim grows closest to the fastest, Mikey is the step-brother who slips past his walls first. Heim is willing to humor Mikey early on, as a way of trying to fit in with the family, and Mikey takes full advantage of this, eagerly slipping past Heim's defenses and nestling himself right into his heart. Initially Heim doesn't quite know how to handle it, but soon he's unbearably fond of Mikey, even if he playfully protests that he isn't. It helps that Heim doesn't treat Mikey like a baby the way Raph sometimes tends to, partly because Heim has his own baby to worry about. While their emotional relationship isn't as deep as Heim's relationship with Viv and eventually with Wilde, Heim is truly relaxed around Mikey even early on.

Sondheim and Sullivan: Heim didn't have much regard for Sulley for most of their lives, and now he feels a lot of regret for that. Their relationship effectively has to be built from the ground up, which isn't helped by Heim still trying to learn who he himself is. They have a lot of false starts and a lot of disastrous conversations, but Heim gradually slotting himself into his big brother role and caring for Sulley helps a lot. The two of them learn a lot about the wonder of hugs together.

Sondheim and April: Humans have been Heim's enemy for most of his life, and while he actually doesn't think they're all that dangerous (yokai always had the superiority in strength and mystic ability, and thanks to Draxum's mutagen and Donnie's tech they were steadily closing the gap in numbers and technology, too), he's still mystified that his alternate family would willingly interact with one. He's initially rude to April as a result, but she has so little tolerance for that that his dismissal quickly does an abrupt swing into respect - maybe a little too much respect, because he starts treating her like a boss, too. It takes them awhile to settle back into a friendship, and she becomes a great role model for Heim as well.

Sondheim and Splinter: Lou Jitsu died in Heim's universe, so while he always knew he was mutated with Lou Jitsu's DNA, he's never met the man. He's quite a bit shorter (and hairier!) than Heim expected! Heim initially treats Splinter with the reverence and respect he does Draxum, but Splinter pretty quickly dispels that notion by encouraging Heim to address him casually and generally just acting like his goofy dad self around Heim. Though the AU boys look at only Draxum as their dad, they do still lean on Splinter as a capable adult in their life, and Heim is no exception. He likes the tea Splinter makes.

[nameless-jamie]

PR Disaster

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

TW: cursing, suggestive scenes

Jamie Tartt was a nightmare to work for on an average day. But on a day when he was desperate? He was unbearable.

Y/N had spent the last twenty minutes trying to get through her emails while Jamie sat across from her desk, relentlessly attempting to convince her to do something insane.

“Come on, love,” Jamie pleaded, drumming his fingers on her desk. “It’s just one night. Just a little thing. Barely even a date.”

She shot him an incredulous look. “You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend at a charity gala.”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

Jamie groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Y/N, you have to.”

“Oh, I have to?” She crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. "M'not getting paid for this so I don't have to do shit, Jamie."

"Don't be difficult, babe. I beg you!"

“Let me get this straight. You, a fully grown man, need a date to some fancy event, and instead of—I don’t know—asking out one of the many women who throw themselves at you, you come to me, your freaking assistant?”

He sighed dramatically. “I can’t take some random girl. That’d make it worse.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Worse than what?”

Jamie slouched lower in his chair and sighed. “Some wanker journalist wrote a whole article about how I’ve ‘lost my edge’ since I’ve been single. Said my game’s sufferin’ ‘cause I’m too ‘unfocused.’” He made air quotes, looking deeply offended. “He said I'm too horny for the pitch or some shit. Like, I can’t be single and good at football at the same time. It’s bullshit.”

“That does sound like bullshit.”

“Right?"

"Too horny for the pitch, is my favorite thing anyone has ever said about you, though." Y/N laughed, wiping a small tear out of the corner of her eye.

"Y/N be fucking for real right now. The plan is, if I show up with a girlfriend, it shuts everyone up. And if I take you, it don’t get messy. No expectations. No awkward post-date texts. Just you lookin’ dead fit in a fancy dress and me lookin’ like a man not in the middle of a public downward spiral.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Why do I feel like you’ve thought way too much about this?”

Jamie grinned. “Because I have.”

She exhaled slowly, staring at him for a long moment. “This is a terrible idea.”

“Best ones usually are.”

She sighed. “Fine.”

"And if the press wants us to kiss it wouldn't be awkward because we already did that once!"

"Jamie, that is still a fucking accident. We don't talk about that!"

"I mean I want to talk about it—" Jamie couldn't finish that sentence before a pen was thrown his way.

"Pick me up at 7. Go away now!"

The night started when he picked her up for the gala, in a freaking stretch limousine.

Y/N opened her door.

Jamie’s brain short-circuited.

She stood there in a dress that was so—fuck. It was tight in all the right places, dipping low at the neckline, hugging her waist like it was personally designed to ruin his life. Her legs? Glorious. The slit in her dress? Criminal. Her makeup? Perfect.

He actually forgot how to breathe.

Y/N tilted her head. “Jamie?”

He blinked rapidly, forcing himself to speak. “Huh?”

Her lips twitched. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, voice cracking like a fucking teenager. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, uh, you look—” He gestured vaguely at her, struggling to find a word that wasn’t fuckable. “Good. Nice. Decent.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Decent?”

Jamie winced. Fuckin’ idiot. “Nah, not decent. I meant, like, proper good. Like, unfairly good. Like—fuck, what’s the word—illegal?”

She laughed, and Jamie swore it was the best sound he’d ever heard.

“Well, that’s good to know,” she teased. “Considering I’m supposed to be your date.”

Right. The fake date. The one that wasn’t real. The one where he definitely wasn’t supposed to be thinking about how he wanted to keep her locked in his car all night so no one else could look at her.

Jamie exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. Get it together, Tartt.

Y/N gave him a knowing smile. “You ready to go?”

Jamie didn’t trust himself to speak. Instead, he just opened the car door for her, staring straight ahead as she got in—because if he looked for even a second longer, there was a very real chance he’d be showing up to the gala with a boner.

And that was definitely not part of the plan.

Y/N soon realized that the problem wasn’t the gala.

The problem was Jamie.

Because he was apparently way too good at fake dating.

For someone who was supposedly just trying to fix his reputation, he seemed very committed to the role.

He kept his hand on the small of her back all night, his thumb moving in slow circles against the fabric of her dress like it was second nature. He leaned in close every time he spoke to her, his breath warm against her ear. And worst of all, he kept looking at her like that. Like she was the only person in the room.

He also seemed to be having the time of his life making up a fake relationship history.

“Oh, yeah,” he told an interviewer from The Athletic. “She played hard to get at first, but I wore her down.”

“She pretends to be annoyed by me,” he added later, “but really? She’s obsessed.”

Y/N had to bite her tongue multiple times to avoid strangling him.

But then came the real kicker.

“She makes me a better man. I mean fuck— have you looked at her. She is not going to her own flat tonight, am I right love?”

Y/N nearly choked on her champagne.

What the fuck was he playing at?

She was fully prepared to murder him the second they got into the car.

But before she could, the event photographer asked them to pose for a picture, and—

Jamie pulled her in, his hand sliding around her waist, fingers brushing the bare skin at her side.

Her breath hitched.

And then—

Jamie fucking winked.

The camera flashed.

And just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, a journalist called out:

“Jamie! One more shot—how about a kiss for the cameras?”

She froze.

Jamie, however, seemed thrilled by the idea.

“Oh, yeah?” He turned to her, smirking. “What d’you reckon, love? Give the people what they want?”

She stared at him, genuinely considering murder.

But the cameras were waiting. The journalists were watching. And it's not like it would be their first one...

Jamie—the absolute menace—was already leaning in, his lips curling into something dangerously close to a real smile.

She had two options: make it awkward as hell by shutting it down, or commit to the bit.

FUCK, she was his freaking assistant. And she's totally into him. But that wasn't important right now. If she did not kiss him the press would know that Jamie Tartt brought a fake date or worse they would think that his own girlfriend hates him. If she kisses him though, the PR disaster after that would fucking suck.

Fuck it. With a deep breath, she reached up, placed her hand on his chest, and let Jamie close the distance between them.

It was barely a kiss—a soft press of lips, just enough to make it convincing. But Jamie’s hand tightened on her waist, just for a second, and her fingers curled against the fabric of his suit before she forced herself to pull away.

The cameras loved it.

Jamie did too, judging by the way he looked at her afterward.

“Not bad, love,” he murmured, his lips still inches from hers. “Please tell me that one was an accident too. Or else I might have to take you home with me tonight.”

She just rolled her eyes and shoved him. Idiot.

The next morning, Y/N woke up to absolute chaos.

Her phone had exploded.

Twitter was going insane.

She clicked on the first headline that popped up.

"Jamie Tartt Goes Public With Stunning Mystery Girlfriend at Charity Gala—And We Have ALL the Details"

She scrolled down, her horror growing with every paragraph.

"From the way he looked at her to the way he kept a protective hand on her waist all night, Jamie Tartt was absolutely smitten. Sources tell us that he was completely devoted to her the entire evening, barely paying attention to anyone else. And let's not forget the viral moment when he told reporters, 'She makes me a better man.' Our hearts? Melted."

“Oh, for fuck sake. I knew it.”

She stormed into Nelson Road, phone in hand. “Jamie fucking Tartt!”

Jamie, who had been laughing with Dani, turned at the sound of her voice. “Mornin’, love.”

She marched up to him and shoved her phone in his face. “Do you know how many people think we’re actually together?”

He barely glanced at the screen before shrugging. “Yeah. Bit mad, innit?”

“Mad? Mad?” She scrolled further. “People are already speculating about a wedding! I just got an email from Vogue asking if we’d do a couples photoshoot and a fucking interview!”

Jamie grinned. “Vogue, yeah? That’s kinda sick. Let’s do it. I can tell ‘em about how you snore when you fall asleep on the couch.”

“I do not snore.” She gaped at him. “Jamie. This is not funny.”

“Babe, you do,” he said, voice dripping with amusement, "And it’s a little funny.”

She groaned. “I hate you.”

“Nah,” he said, slinging an arm around her shoulder. “You love me, remember? You make me a better man.”

“You fucking prick. You even liked a post that said, ‘Jamie Tartt and his girlfriend are the it couple of the season’!”

Jamie shoved his hands in his pockets. “Well, yeah. ‘Cause we are.”

Her jaw dropped. “We are not.”

Jamie tilted his head, a playful glint in his eye. “You sure about that, love?”

She refused to answer.

Jamie must’ve noticed her hesitation because he leaned in, dropping his voice. “Just say the word, and I’ll post a proper ‘soft launch’ photo of us on Instagram.”

She shoved him away.

But later, when she caught him scrolling through a fan edit of them kissing with that smug little smile, she had the sinking suspicion that Jamie had no intention of letting this fake relationship die anytime soon.

And worse?

She wasn’t sure she wanted him to. She had to clear the air, though...And the PR of all of it was going to be a fucking disaster.

[milder-manners]

How Bad and Techno feels knowing that the guy they tried to bring with the Rebellion after being tortured is now on them, and is studying and finding out new magic powerful stuff to the Empire?

Making him now someone much worthwhile to the Empire than before.

How they feels knowing that Rebels created a useful "weapon" to the Empire, knowing they could have had an incredible ally, instead of an enemy (that even know their names and faces, and has a trail to find them)?

I believe Bad feels more regretful than anyt else, because he was the one who give Dream false hope about everything, not sure about Tecno.

And what they feels about their collaborators? Since they caused this mess in first place?

Is there a possibility that Techno or even Bad could choose to leave the Rebels? Maybe Techno will chose to create his own group in the hope that what happened will not happen again (The Syndacate)? I hope I wrote everything correctly 😅

You wrote everything very eloquently!

The situation was that Bad and Techno did everything they could to spare Dream.

They all knew, especially Dream, that the Rebellion wasn't going to take his presence very kindly as a former Hunter. None of them expected a warm welcome so the Rebellion members were prepared to vouch for him.

What none of them foresaw, was the sheer bloodlust the Rebellion and its council held.

They didn't care that Dream could be a useful ally, a powerful ally. Not just as a former Hunter, but a symbol of change and better future for the rest of the kingdom. They didn't care that it was fundamentally better and smarter to give Dream a chance in their rebellion, to make him living proof to other Hunters who want to defect that they can find a place here.

What they did was stupid.

But the Rebellion, and the council, couldn't see that. Dream was a monster, a Hunter. One of the Hands of the Crown! He's done terrible things to who knows how many people in service to that tyrannical government. So many people here have lost families or everyone to the Hunters. You just want to let him off scott free just like that? Where was the justice?

So they threw him to the enchanters and doctors.

Techno and Bad (and George and Sapnap) were outnumbered. In the most literal sense. Dream was taken away and hidden somewhere they couldn't find. George and Sapnap were assigned somewhere far off, and Techno and Bad still had their numerous responsibilities to their people.

There was quite literally nothing they could've done, and they tried everything still.

I'm still working on the timeline, but I think Dream was tortured for about .5 - 1 year. By the end of that time the only thing the others did was hope that he was dead and resting.

Dream coming back wasn't a shock, it was a sinking acceptance of the worst possibility coming true.

They didn't want to kill him, but they needed to.

(Techno and Bad are not going to leave the Rebellion, unity is the only way to take down the Crown and the Enderdragon. They need to put aside all their regrets and guilt.)

[11queensupreme11]

Hey queen!!! Question, what did Axiandros think when cu cheated on Percy and made her go down to Midgard??

you'd think he'd be happy cuz that's one less competition to deal with right??? but NO, he feels nothing but cold fury for his mother's sake (he's more angry about it then she is 😭) like how DARE one of her already unworthy husbands have the AUDACITY to cheat on her????? his perfect mother?!?!?!?!

would straight up go to poseidon like

axiandros: father, we need to kill cú chulainn 😐🔱

poseidon: as expected of my first born. now let's go 😐🔱

💀💀💀💀

and his mother going down to midgard??? to stay down there for a century or two????? oh no. no, no, no, NO. he internally panics. she can't just leave!!! she has a duty as a mother and wife, she HAS to stay with them!!!!!

and besides, his dear mother living amongst mortal filth ALL BY HERSELF???????? 😱 his mother, who already has a weakness for humans (it's not a weakness really, she literally just treats them decently 💀)???? he's imagining all the terrible scenarios of her getting taken advantage of, like bro CALM DOWN 😭😭 your mother understands humans more than you do considering she actually LIVED WITH THEM 😭

AND THEN HE ABSOLUTELY LOSES HIS SHIT WHEN HE FINDS OUT EUDORIOS WENT THERE TO LIVE WITH HER LMAOOO

that's when he snaps and finally goes to surface himself. he's planning on dragging eudorios back home and also stiffly requesting his mother to come back too. but he doesn't drag her there like he would with eudorios, no he would NEVER hurt his mother ofc. but he gets more desperate when she refuses and that's when he decides "fuck it, i'll stay with mother too then 😤🔱" cuz he's not gonna leave his precious mother with the humans and fuck ass DORY 🙄

[kacievvbbbb]

Hello there. I really do love the post and how you discussed about Yor and Anya’s bond and it’s importance but there’s something in your hashtags I feel misleading.

Yor is still the nurturer. Far more than Loid has ever been. She’s the one who comforts the entire family. And what do you mean by inversion of gender roles?

Hi! Thanks for the ask and the compliment! 😊🌸

And sorry about that my tags are usually just ramblings that I feel I can't explain well enough to include in the post so they are often my thoughts in their purest most half-formed half intelligible When I said Loid takes on the "nurturer" role I didn't mean to imply that Yor wasn't a nurturer she's the emotional backbone of the family of course often helping Loid see things in a way a child might see them or a family. she makes their family work. But what I meant is that she doesn't do things a traditional society would assign to the "nurturer" aka the woman in fact she often flounders in those roles Loid takes up the cooking, the shopping, he does some cleaning (even tho I believe they mentioned Yor mostly handles that as a balance) Loid is the one mostly in charge of Anya's schooling and general enrichment, he does the entertaining when they have guests. These are things that society would usually assign to the mother for all intents and purposes he manages the household, he's the "homemaker" and part of that is because he's a control freak and he's so desperate to make this work for the success of Operation Strix that he will happily fill in all of the spots that Yor cant and have her focus solely on being a "believable" mother to Anya. And we know this kind of gender stereotypes exist within the world because of Yor's friend's reactions to her inability to cook (I think they mentioned she'll never get a man or how did she get a man without these skills or some variation of the phrase) and we see it when the interviewer derides her for having her husband cook at the start of the show. So it is a subversion of the expected gender roles and it is a big enough worry that Yor has been shown to be scared that she will be reported to the secret police. so it is a deliberate gender subversion at that. now think of the role Yor plays in Anya's life, how she fits into it. Shes a symbol of strength and protection in a very physical sense this isn't a role usually ascribed to women and mothers especially in anime. It's a role usually given to a father. The person that you call when your in trouble, who you think is the strongest person in the world, who is your own personal hero. Think of Jiraya, Shanks, Nanami, Whitebeard, Roger etc. Yor fulfills all those roles for Anya. Yor is the one that any goes to for sports lessons, and advice on how to beat up bullies and its Yor that any first and foremost calls out for when shes in a tight spot. It's Yor that teaches her these lessons about strength and self belief and maybe shes not as gruff as the typical adopted anime dad but she fulfills the same role. Its not a mistake that when Loid is reassuring Yor on her skills at being a mother because Yor thinks shes doing terrible because she cant do all the stereotypical "mother" things. Loid tells her that her strength is enough.

he says this specifically after saying that all he remembers about his own mother was that she was strong too so why would he think Yor was the perfect mom? If through all the trauma and the pain loid has experienced the only thing he remembers about the life he used to live is that his mother was strong why wouldn't he want that for Anya? so yeah that's kind of what I mean by gender inversion. I dont know how much of this is intentional or if the mangaka is specifically doing this. but he's not outright subverting gender expectations but he is breaking them wide open examining them picking them apart and turning them on their head. Like look at the fact that its Yor that gets all the cool anime fights with the flashiness and pushing human abilities to the limit. Their fight scenes in code white showcase this especially. Yor fights the inhuman machine in this giant sprawling battle full of flash and hype while she performs superhuman deeds while Loids fight while very artisticly rendered and still fun is very basic hand to hand which makes sense for them Loid is a spy fighting is his last resort its about efficiency while Yor is an assassin she literally fights and kills for a living. The manga is not afraid to showcase to you at every turn that if Yor and Loid where to engage with straight fisticuffs Yor wins 10 times out of 10. And like now really think about the last time in a shonen especially a female protagonist fight had even near as much hype as even a secondary main male character never mind the male protagonist. And here Yor consistently has the most intense attractive fights we are waiting for her fights that's an inversion if I've ever seen it. Again I dont know how much of this is intentional and it is definitely way more complex than this and I am not calling any other anime mom weak or whatever but I just think about when I took a Classics class and we were on the section about greek heroines my professor mentioned how in greek mythology Greek heroes are marked by their ability to overcome (even when it ends in tragedy) while Greek heroines are marked by their ability to endure. And I think about that alot

Its all about how they managed to survive all the suffering they had been through and dont get me wrong the ability to endure is a great strength but it is a "passive" one and so is thereby assigned to women

[yinsmoonlight]

all that’s unspoken. — aespa ft. lesserafim

genre — angst | main characters — fem!reader. aespa & lesserafim.

synopsis — the beginning of a new school year, and it’s already looking terrible. lost your friends, and nowhere to turn to after a night gone wrong.

content warnings — themes of depression, anxiety, loneliness, sh, & SA (mentioned briefly)

note — my inspiration for this is based off the book & movie ‘speak’. it’s one of my favorites of all time, so i hope you enjoy. i’m not sure if it’ll become a series or parts yet. just experimenting. i also want to say that to anyone who may have any relations in this, you’re not alone and don’t be ashamed. you’re strong. <3

starting junior year with a headache, bags under your eyes, and an outfit you hated definitely wasn’t how you were expecting to start it off.

neither was your mother’s banter of how late she was for work, or how your father needed to pay a bill, or get the car fixed.

the bus was coming to pick you up soon. you could hear the engine roaring just from down the road as you were standing in front of your driveway.

your stomach was practically doing flips. you were nervous, but your face didn’t show it. at least you hoped.

you were the first stop. it was evident as there were no kids on the bus.

as you stepped on, you debated on where to sit.

the front? no. the back? ehh. the middle? definitely not. the back it is.

the bus driver took off as you look outside of the window. the blurs of trees, cars, and houses catching your eyes.

before you knew it, more kids were loading up on the bus. you kept to yourself as each kid stepped onto the bus and taking a seat next to another.

by the time the bus was full, you had just caught onto the fact that you were still in a seat by yourself.

no one had wanted to come up and sit beside you.

you couldn’t tell if you were happy with the fact or not.

your eyes tear away from the window, finally, only to lock eyes with your ex-best friend, uchinaga aeri.

she only gave you a dirty look and rolled her eyes once she looked at you.

you weren’t surprised, but it did hurt.

you’ve been wanting to talk to her for so long, but there wasn’t even a phone call from her ever since that night.

the school bus engine came to a stop as you arrive to the highschool.

walking through the hall, you could see people who you instantly recognized.

the ones who you used to call friends.

you didn’t know who they were to you anymore.

some of them, like yu jimin, kim minjeong, and ning yizhuo, stayed close.

while aeri didn’t, and she preferably hung out with the more “popular” crowd, with this girl named kazuha. and her.

a pit of hurt in your stomach settled as you walked past them.

finding your classes wasn’t going to be hard. you had gotten used to where the classes were after two years of starting highschool.

the only problem was, that some teachers moved classes, which made it harder to go off the stupid map you’ve had since freshmen year.

you let out a soft huff as the bell soon rang, and the halls became empty.

how others managed to find their classes so easily is beyond you.

you remembered you had to find your first class, english. room 201.

it was the sudden— “excuse me. where’s your hall pass?” that made you stop in your tracks.

turning around, you saw a teacher.

he looked strict. really strict. his face didn’t help any either.

he looks like he’s unhappy with his life.

he approached you with a stern face, “hall pass?” he asks.

you stutter, “um, i’m just trying to look for..um-”

“i see the excuses, missy. what’s your name?” he interrupts.

“y-y/n l/n.” you got out with another small stutter.

he nods grabbing out his notepad, scribbling on it, most likely his signature, you assumed.

“well, miss l/n, seems like you’re gonna be trouble already,” he says handing you a warning slip. “now get to class.”

jeez.

first day of school and this guy is already on my ass.

you only walked away with a slight huff.

thankfully, soon, you found your english class, to which students were already sat at their desks.

the teacher smiles looking at you, “oh hello! welcome to my english class. what is your name, dear?”

“y/n l/n.” you get out.

“well, my name is Miss Smith, just find a desk to sit at, y/n.” she says checking off the attendance board.

quietly, you found a desk all the way in the back of the class.

perfect.

after taking a seat, you look up seeing aeri turning back and looking at you. she looks at you with disgust before turning away.

she actually seemed disgusted with you.

what did you do wrong? then again, she doesn’t understand what had happened.

you bit the skin at your bottom lip, it hurt when you did.

but it was a habit you couldn’t quit.

class went by in the blink of an eye, and before you know it during third period, it was your time to go to lunch.

you already dreaded the idea of going into the cafeteria. you didn’t even feel like eating, either.

should i just stay in the bathroom until the bell rings?

before you could answer your own question, you found yourself already walking to the bathroom.

it was only when you saw aeri standing at the mirror, applying lip gloss to her full lips.

you stopped in your tracks, frozen.

should i say something to her? no, she hates me. but i should at least try?

your throat felt dry as you anxiously chewed on your bottom lip, and before you could even get the courage to speak up, aeri purposely shoved you with her shoulder leaving the cafeteria.

the action made you stumble back in surprise.

at least you didn’t have to embarrass yourself by talking, somehow.

soon, was art class.

the class was located inside of the gym, so you and others could hear the chaos just from the room. the sound of basketballs dribbling, the sound of shoes squeaking against the floor.

your teacher was calling attendance. he introduced himself as Mr. Donovan. he seemed like a nice person, just off his vibe.

“y/n l/n?” he calls out. you slowly raise your hand in the air.

you look around the room and notice one of your old friends, ning yizhuo.

she likes to be called ningning as her nickname. plus, lots of others couldn’t pronounce her full name correctly to save their life.

her hair was now black, and mid length. it definitely grew over the summer.

going all natural is a nice way to start the school year.

Mr. Donovan said that for the class portfolio, you would be given something to make for the whole year.

basically, you’d make a pieces of art with whatever you were given. each piece was supposed to tell a “story”.

he went around with a bucket filled with tiny folded papers, and what you got was a butterfly.

how am i supposed to tell a story with a butterfly?

it made you think long and hard, and honestly, you felt it to be ridiculous. there was no way you’d be able to be that creative.

ningning had gotten a flower. she seemed excited for it, but she’s an artistic person, so no matter what she would’ve gotten, she would be happy with.

ningning was the one in the friend group who was always making stuff, even if it was silly. she made things from bracelets, to different painting portraits.

she was talented. she even would buy new shoes to paint them to her liking. it seemed silly to others, but she didn’t care.

she loved expressing herself.

but how were you going to express yourself with a simple butterfly?

finally, the school day ended, and you got off the bus and made your way inside your house with your key. you didn’t see your mom’s car in the driveway, nor your dad’s.

once making it inside, you made your way to the kitchen to get some water.

the house was quiet. eerily quiet.

as you grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, you saw a note attached to the fridge by a magnet.

‘pizza in the fridge, just heat it up for dinner. going to be home late, as well as dad. be good.’ — mom

the usual. you swear your parents are just never home.

since you hadn’t eaten breakfast, you decided to eat your pizza early. sitting at the table alone felt nice, but also lonely at the same time.

at least you didn’t have to deal with your parents asking the questions of how school went, if you made any friends, if you liked your classes.

you didn’t feel like talking right now. or ever.

as soon as you finished and placed your plate in the sink, you went upstairs to your room where you went inside of your closet, also where you made it into a little hangout spot.

it’s not big, but just big enough for your to sit in to get away from it all.

the closet made you feel safe. like nothing could get you. sometimes, you even slept in here, to which your mother constantly you nagged you about how you’ll get neck and back pain.

it was the end of the first day of eleventh grade, and you ended it with no new or old friends, a warning slip, and the void of silence.

[moonlight-hwa]

FI, TYMI ~ C. S | Chapter 7

Synopsis: Wherein Mikyung does a fake dating agreement with her co-worker, in order to escape the constant pursuits of her ex-boyfriend.

Pairings: lawyer!san x female!lawyer!OC (ft. bff!wooyoung)

Genre: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, fake dating turned real dating, kinda she falls first, he falls harder

Warnings: none…just San being an absolute sweetheart again and Wooyoung being a menace

Word Count: 2,005

Mikyung pulled into a parking lot, belonging to a handmade noddle restaurant, where she was meeting San for lunch, after he had invited her yesterday.

  Her gaze immediately landed onto his familiar figure as she pulled into an empty spot; he was sitting on a bench near the entrance of the restaurant, eyes trained down to the screen of his phone.

  Mikyung breathed out a soft sigh, taking the key from the ignition, before finally getting out of her car. At the sound of a car door shutting, San’s eyes lifted from his phone, his gaze instantly locking with hers.

   A smile curled at his lips, standing from the bench, all the while his eyes bounced up and down her figure “Well, hello there beautiful.” He spoke, his hand finding hers, before he raised them up, allowing them to do a little spin, showing off her outfit.

  Almost two weeks had passed, since the beginning of their agreement and over the course of that time, she and San had grown closer; they held more friendly conversations, along with the occasional flirty remark tossed back and forth. So, San complimenting her was nothing out of the ordinary recently.

  Mikyung felt her face become warm at his words “Thank you, I actually put effort into getting ready this time around.” She said through a soft chuckle, her smile somehow growing as she faced San again.

  He hummed, smile also widening “And you look absolutely gorgeous…but I will say you look beautiful no matter what you wear, darling.” He confessed the pet name rolling off his tongue so effortlessly, that it made her heart beat a little quicker.

  Soon enough the two of them were sitting at a table, enjoying their bowl of noodles as they talked and laughed.

  “Since we’re supposed to make people believe we’re dating, we should probably get to know one another better, huh?” San spoke.

  Mikyung hummed in response “I guess we should.”

  “So…what does Ju Mikyung do in her free time, when she’s not working on cases?” He asked, a small smile curling at his lips.

  Mikyung exhaled a sigh, chopsticks absently moving around the contents of the bowl as she shrugged “I don’t really do anything, I think I’m kinda boring outside of the firm.” She spoke, “Either I’m reading, watching tv shows that I’m really into or with my best friend, which is probably all the time actually.”

  San hummed, while nodding “Do you have hobbies you enjoy?” He asked further.

  She shook her head “No, not really. Either I’m too busy or too tired to really start one.”

  She then heaved out another sigh, knowing that she was going to regret breaking down this wall. “But I did use to really enjoy photography, I would bring my camera everywhere.” A fond smile tugging at her lips.

  “Why did you stop?” There it was the question she dreaded answering, but at the same time she also completely expected it.

  She didn’t want to go into total detail about what Chanwoo said and did to make her stop, so she just simply said “Chanwoo made me feel insecure about it.”

  A frown tugged downward at his lips “And would he do that?” San questioned softly.

  Mikyung chuckled humorlessly “Because he’s a terrible person and emotionally abusive…simple as that.” She replied rather bluntly, all the while she felt the familiar sting of tears in her eyes.

   Silence then filled the air around them as Mikyung continued eating and San thought of something to say.

  He cleared his throat softly “Mikyung,” He spoke after a few moments of silent and she hummed in response, looking up from her bowl of food.

  “Whatever that bastard said to you or called you…not a single one of those things is true, okay?” Mikyung nodded, as tears glossed over her eyes.

  “He had no right to make you feel insecure about something you enjoyed so much…nobody has that right to do that to someone.”

  Mikyung inhaled sharply, blinking rapidly as her gaze turned downward to the table “God…I’m sorry.” She spoke chuckling softly out of embarrassment, while she wiped away fallen tears.

  A soft smile curled at San’s lips “It’s okay, you have nothing to apologize for darling. I just wanted you to know that you should never let people stop you from doing things you love.”

  And just by his reassuring words, Mikyung could feel herself falling for him even more.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a single word out, a person clearing their throat stopped her. Mikyung’s head whipped around and was immediately met with her best friend.

  Her eyes widened, totally not expecting to see Wooyoung here. “Woo, what in the world are doing here? How did you even know where I was?” She questioned, while he pulled up a chair from a different chair, before sitting down.

  A grin curled on his lips “I have my ways.” He replied.

  As that interaction was happening, San looked between the two with a very confused expression. “Darling, who is this?” San spoke, causing the two of them to turn toward him.

  The grin painting Wooyoung’s features grew wider and before Mikyung could explain, he started talking. “Wow, you guys are really going all out with this, pet names and everything.” He commented.

  Mikyung rolled her eyes, while she elbowed him in his side, causing Wooyoung to mutter an ‘ow’.

  He cleared his throat, composing himself “I’m Jung Wooyoung, Mikyung’s best friend.” He said, extending his right arm.

  San’s face lit up realization “Ahh, so you’re the best friend Mikyung talks about.” He spoke, shaking Wooyoung’s hand as the latter hummed in response.

  “I’m Ch-” and before San could finish his thought, Wooyoung interrupted him by saying “I know who you are, Mikyung has the biggest cru-” Mikyung kicked him in the shin, stopping him from finishing his sentence.

  Wooyoung let out a low pained groan, along with a slew of curses. Mikyung turned back to San, with a composed smile on her lips “I apologize about him, I don’t know what his problem is.” She said and San spoke a soft ‘that’s okay’ in response, before turning back to her friend.

  “Now…” She started, crossing her arms over her torso “What happened that was so important, you had to interrupt our date?” She asked

  Wooyoung interjected with “Fake date actually.” At that Mikyung briefly turned to San, mouthing ‘he knows’ and he let out a soft ‘ahhh’ sound, while nodding his head subtly.

  “Anyway, I listened to your advice. I went back to the apartment that morning, made breakfast for us and we had a civil conversation.” Wooyoung spoke.

  Mikyung’s lips curled up in a smile as she nodded, listening intently to his words. “And I’ll have you know that we came up with a solution to the problem.”

  Mikyung hummed “And that is?” She drew out, basically sitting on the edge of her seat for his next words.

  “Well, we came to the agreement that on Chaayeon’s next trip, I would go with her.” He finally said, a wide smile gradually taking form on his lips.

  Mikyung couldn’t help but smile as well. “That’s awesome, I love that for you guys.” She spoke sincerely.

  Wooyoung’s gaze left hers, taking his bottom between his teeth, nodding his head.

  She chuckled softly, gently elbowing him in the side, causing him to look up at her “See…I told you, you two would work it out.”

He also let out a chuckle “Yeah, yeah you were right-” She gave him a look and that lead him to say, “Thank you, Mimi.”

  “Mimi, huh?” And at that Mikyung remembered that San was still there. She felt her face warm as her head turned in his direction; one of his eyebrows was quirked up and a small smirk curled on his lips.

  She let out a groan, sinking further in her chair, because she knew this was going to set Wooyoung off and lead to more embarrassment.

  An annoying grin curled at his lips, gaze briefly moving to Mikyung as he leaned forward in his chair. “Yep, that’s been her nickname since we were kids, and she absolutely hates it. But you should’ve seen how she was when she was younger-”

  And that set Wooyoung off to talk about embarrassing childhood stories with San, all the while Mikyung wanted to disappear from the face of the earth.

  By the time Mikyung stepped through the door of her apartment, she felt exhausted; Wooyoung’s antics will always and forever tire her out, but it seemed that he and San got along…so that was good at least.

  When she entered her room, instead of getting changed in more comfy clothing, Mikyung just flopped onto her bed, heaving out a long sigh as she covered her closed eyes with her right arm.

  Silence filled the space around her, the only audible being the quiet wooshing of air moving through the ventilation system and the subtle white noise was enough to allow the effects of sleep to wash over her.

  But she was suddenly pulled away from those effects, by the obnoxious buzzing of her phone; Mikyung groaned lowly, blindly reaching for her that phone sat atop the mattress. She expected the text to be from Wooyoung, but it wasn’t, instead it was from San.

  ‘I meant what I said, Mikyung’ She felt her heart stutter inside her chest as her eyes moved down to the second message. ‘You should never let anyone make you feel insecure about something you love and enjoy’.

  Her breathing caught in her throat as her vision blurred with tears, and then the third and final text buzzed through.

  ‘I hope that one day, you realize that you are talented in anything you do, and I hope you find your joy in photography again’.

  When she finished reading the message, tears were rolling down her temples.

  Mikyung exhaled deeply, a steady trail of tears continuing to roll down her temples, while her gaze naturally fell onto the black bag atop the wardrobe.

  Her eyes remained on it for a few more moments, before she eventually got out her bed, wiping away the fallen tears as she stepped closer to the wardrobe.

  She breathed out a shaky breath, reaching for the bag that had been collecting dust from its place on the wardrobe. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, while she stared down at the black camera bag, that now sat on her bed.

  She absolutely loved her camera, and she would take it literally everywhere, taking photos of everything. Photography was Mikyung’s creative outlook and something she would do when she was stressed…but all of that changed when she was dating Chanwoo.

  Every time Mikyung would show Chanwoo the photos she had taken, he would always make a snide comment…and gradually over time she had last her spark and joy for photography.

  And at that time Wooyoung had obviously noticed that she had stopped using her camera. He asked her about it, and she simply said she wasn’t feeling inspired, he believed her. That was the only time Mikyung ever lied to Wooyoung.

  But now…it was different, and she was tired of letting Chanwoo still have power over her, especially when he was stopping her from enjoying what she loved doing.

  Mikyung heaved another sigh, finally unzipping the bag and revealing the camera she loved so dearly. A smile gradually curled at her lips as she grabbed the camera from inside the bag; the weight of the camera was familiar, but unfamiliar at the same time.

  She pressed the power button and surprisingly it turned on.

   Once it was fully powered on, she held it up to her left eye, looking through the viewfinder as she spun around in place, before eventually stopping with her opened bedroom window in view.

  The sunset covered the entirety of the room in warm hues of orange and yellow. Mikyung smiled “Perfect.” She muttered, before taking the photo.

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