#to make sure he has the best life possible

[sepdet]

Also? Faramir faced the Witch-King. He knows better than anyone else what foe she defeated. The best he could to was resue his troops from a rout, not stand against that enemy. Which was still more than anyone else had managed.

Also they shared somewhat similar backgrounds: eclipsed by brothers held in greater regard (by themselves as much as anyone, perhaps more), watching father-figures falling to despair.

Faramir was sent into battle unthanked by a father comparing him to his brother, and was ready to throw his life away. Éowyn snuck into battle after being told to stay behind, and she, too, was almost suicidal.

There is a great deal in Tolkien's writing about hope and faith, a fool's hope and rational despair. Elrond gave Aragorn the name "Hope" in Elvish, Estel, a word that also means trust and faith. Aragorn's mother dies saying "I gave Estel to the Edain, I kept none for myself."

Sam exhibits it when he keeps going in Mordor even after Frodo's lost it, when it looks like there's no way on Earth they'll make it to the end. Denethor lambast Gandalf for a "fool's hope," and Aragorn tells the Captains of the west that they've reached a point where "hope snd despair are akin."

There's another Elvish word for hope, Amdír, hope based on extrapolation, expectation, which fails when rational hope is exhausted. Sauron's great at chipping away at it (so is Saruman, sending Wormtongue to poison Théoden's morale, nearly destroying Éowyn's in the process since she's trapped with it to and can't take action like her brother). Denethor uses the Palantir to gather intelligence, so Sauron makes sure he sees the Black Fleet coming — not revealing it's Aragorn, not more enemies — and Denethor seems to have been allowed to see Pippin or some hint Frodo was captured as well. So Denethor loses Amdír.

Éowyn and Faramir nearly do, and the Black Breath nearly kills them (that's why it works less well on Merry).

Faramir recognizes Aragorn as the King. Thus he regains hope. He doesn't know if it will be enough to prevail, but he has faith again. Having cone through a similar ordeal of despair, and recognized Éowyn's valour in defeating it, he's finally able to reach her, and help her find that hope again too. Not in Aragorn, but in the possibility of having some kind of future alongside someone who sees her truly.

There are about a million reasons why I love Faramir and Éowyn’s relationship and why I think it’s one of the most romantic relationships that Tolkien wrote, but do you want to know what isn’t talked about enough?

‘Do not scorn pity that is the gift of a gentle heart, Éowyn! But I do not offer you my pity. For you are a lady high and valiant and have yourself won renown that shall not be forgotten; and you are a lady beautiful, I deem, beyond even the words of the Elven-tongue to tell. And I love you. Once I pitied your sorrow. But now, were you sorrowless, without fear or any lack, were you the blissful Queen of Gondor, still I would love you. Éowyn, do you not love me?’

A lot has already been said about Faramir’s confession that he would still love her if she were the Queen of Gondor—and rightly so, because he’s basically saying he’s so hopelessly in love that nothing could ever change his feelings—but what REALLY does it for me, even more than that, is Faramir saying that she is VALIANT. He admires her bravery and her accomplishments in battle, and he says she has won RENOWN. Yes!!! YES!!!!!!!!!

Look, part of the reason Éowyn doesn’t want pity is that she doesn’t want to be looked down upon, and that’s what she associates with being pitied. But this isn’t really about another person’s pity—this is about how Éowyn sees herself. All her life, she’s been held back from participating in battle and from doing great deeds. In her conversation with Aragorn at Edoras, in one of my favorite scenes in the book, she delivers these searing lines: ‘All your words are but to say: you are a woman, and your part is in the house. But when the men have died in battle and honour, you have leave to be burned in the house, for the men will need it no more. But I am of the House of Eorl and not a serving-woman. I can ride and wield blade, and I do not fear either pain or death.’ Aragorn asks, ‘What do you fear, lady?’ And Éowyn replies: ‘A cage. To stay behind bars, until use and old age accept them, and all chance of doing great deeds is gone beyond recall or desire.’

But at the Battle of the Pelennor Fields, she DOES great deeds! She and Merry slay the Witch-king of Angmar, Sauron’s MOST POWERFUL SERVANT. When you think about the power of fear that the Nazgûl had over most mortals, it’s absolutely astounding how brave this was for them to do. But even afterwards, Éowyn doesn’t appear to know the value of what she’s done. Part of this may be her grief for Théoden, and part of it may be the Black Breath, but the point is she doesn’t know what she has achieved. Because in the Houses of Healing, she says to Faramir, ‘I wish to ride to war like my brother Éomer, or better like Théoden the king, for he died and has both honour and peace.’ Éowyn still does not believe she has won honor—and so she does not have peace.

To this Faramir says, ‘It is too late, lady, to follow the Captains, even if you had the strength. But death in battle may come to us all yet, willing or unwilling. You will be better prepared to face it in your own manner, if while there is still time you do as the Healer commanded. You and I, we must endure with patience the hours of waiting.’ It’s important that Faramir doesn’t tell her she’s wrong for wanting to go to battle, only that she must heal, and battle may still come for them yet—and he says WE must wait. Éowyn didn’t want to be left behind to wait for the men to return, but with her and Faramir both waiting, it no longer has that meaning.

This is all important context for the confession. Because days later, in the most romantic conversation of all time, Faramir says these magic words: ‘For you are a lady high and valiant and have yourself won renown that shall not be forgotten.’ LISTEN TO ME, IT IS SO IMPORTANT THAT HE SAYS THIS! THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT ÉOWYN NEEDED TO HEAR. It’s the FIRST THING HE SAYS IN THE SPEECH! Before he says she’s beautiful, before he says he loves her, he tells her she is valiant.

This is it. This is why this scene is peak romance to me. Because Éowyn desired to do great deeds and to win honor in battle, and she actually HAS DONE SO, but she doesn’t know it. And Faramir understands her, and not only that, he ADMIRES HER! ‘For you are a lady high and valiant and have yourself won renown that shall not be forgotten.’ I don’t know about you, but that line ALONE would make me fall in love.

[f1girliefics]

Breaking News: A Love Beyond the Circuit

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Assigned to cover the Formula 1 season, you formed a friendly connection with Lando Norris through interviews and conversations. As the season continued, those friendly moments grew into something deeper.

The lights of the city distracted you as you closed your laptop, wrapping up another long day.

Covering the Formula 1 season was thrilling but exhausting at the same time.

Especially when it came to following the drivers, capturing their stories, and writing pieces that drew readers into the high-speed world of racing. Lando Norris has become one of your most frequent interviewees.

Not just because of his impressive skills on the track but because of his approachable, easy-going nature.

It also helped that the fans loved him.

Every conversation with him left you feeling lighter like you were speaking to an old friend rather than one of the sport’s brightest stars.

Your first interview with him was memorable.

He'd cracked jokes mid-answer, making you laugh despite your nervousness.

Over time, those interviews turned into casual chats in the paddock, he often brought you coffee or tea.

You couldn’t deny there was something special about him, but you kept things professional, convincing yourself it was just part of the job.

You tried your best to protect yourself.

That night, after the Monaco Grand Prix, Lando sent you a message: Dinner? No interviews. Just food and good company. I'm kinda lonely, Oscar is with his Miss.

You hesitated, your fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Was this crossing a line? Probably.

But curiosity got the better of you.

Sure, you typed back. Where?

An hour later, you found yourself sitting across from him at a quiet restaurant hidden away from the busy streets.

The atmosphere was cosy yet still elegant.

Lando looked relaxed, a rare sight given the pressure he was usually under during race weekends.

“You know,” he said, breaking the silence as you both waited for your dinners, “it’s nice to be around someone who doesn’t just see me as 'Lando Norris the F1 driver.'”

You tilted your head, surprised by his admission.

“Well, you’re more than that. You’re... Lando Norris, the guy who can make anyone laugh with a ridiculous joke.” He chuckled, his eyes meeting yours as they made your heart skip a beat.

“And you’re the only journalist who hasn’t tried to twist my words into some dramatic headline.” he said just as the waiter arrived.

The conversation flowed easily after that, weaving through topics of racing, travel, and life outside the circuit.

By the time dessert arrived, it felt less like a dinner with someone you were covering for work and more like a date.

“I have a confession,” Lando said, his voice quieter now. He leaned forward slightly, his fingers running around the edge of his glass. “I didn’t ask you to dinner just because I wanted to hang out. I like you. More than I probably should. I know your job makes this complicated, but... I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Your heart stopped beating.

“Lando... I’ve liked you too. I just didn’t think it was... possible. You’re you, and I’m just—”

“Someone who sees me for who I really am,” he interrupted gently. “And that means more to me than you can ever imagine.”

By the time he walked you back to your hotel, your heart felt full.

At the door, he hesitated, his usual confidence replaced by a quiet uncertainty.

“Can I see you again? Not as a journalist, but... as a date?”

“I’d like that.” you offered him a smile.

And as he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, you knew that this was just the beginning of something extraordinary.

A story not for headlines, but for your hearts.

[bewaryofpity]

NEXT STEP IS LOVE - L. HUGHES

[2.0k] luke brings you to the family skate, surprising his teammates, and the usual “i didn't know you had a girlfriend” comes up, but this time luke has enough of calling you just his best friend.

warnings: none ! just some cute ol' fluff; probably really cringey 😔

a/n: she's a short one, and i’m not really fond of it but here it is anyway. sorry guys :(

“Didn’t know Luke had a girlfriend.”

“That’s because he doesn’t. That is his best friend.”

“Bullshit.” Kovacevic laughed in Jack’s face before turning his head back towards Luke near the bench.

Luke was kind of a private person so the idea of him having a secret girlfriend would have made sense to anyone, especially to the new guys he wasn't close with yet. But when Jack revealed that the girl in front of Luke was simply a friend had to be the biggest lie Kovy ever got told. Because friends don’t look at each other that way.

Luke’s fingers were trembling as he tied the laces of your skates carefully, making sure they weren’t too tight or too loose. He felt nervous having you here with him, which was strange because it wasn’t like you’ve never been around the guys before, but the new season meant new guys too. Which also meant that the same old dreaded question was going to come up at any moment.

“Good?”

You nodded in response before stretching your hands out so Luke could help you up the bench. You were wobbly at first, as he tried to hold back the teasing grin creeping on his lips, definitely not used to being on skates as often as him. 

You slowly made your way onto the ice, clutching his hand like your life depended on it. He couldn’t help but keep his gaze on your concentrated face, cheeks flushed from the chill of the arena as you found your rhythm. He was lost in his thoughts, stomach filling with butterflies when your hands squeezed his tighter. And if it weren’t for the little squeak you left out, he would’ve let you fall.

“Sorry,” he said with no hint of honesty in his voice while you shot him a playful look. 

It wasn’t long before you found your footing and let go of his hands to skate side by side. There weren’t many chances for you to hang out with Luke in these settings. The last time you skated together was when he was still a rookie, and he almost got in trouble too many times for using the rink after hours just to teach you how to skate, but you loved every single moment of it. So when he realized your day off coincided with the family skate, he didn’t hesitate to mention it and you couldn’t wait to be there for him, doing something you know would make him happy.

Though, the only thing that was different from those times was the fact that holding Luke’s hands now had your heart doing funny tricks on you. The newfound warmth that has taken over your body in his presence this past year or so was unexpected and scary because you were well aware what this meant and you couldn’t lose Luke over a stupid crush. 

If only you knew that he too got to a point where hiding his feelings for you was actually painful. He tried everything to spend as much time with you as possible. Faking being too tired to drive back to his place and sleep on your couch, missing optional skates, staying up at night before an away game just to hear your voice, letting you nap and waking you up only to convince you to spend the night at his place because i don’t want you to drive, it’s too dark outside and dangerous. It was all worth it in his eyes. But the ache in his chest everytime he had to leave you was becoming harder to suppress than he thought and he couldn’t take it anymore.

As he tried to grab at your brushing hands, Pesce stopped abruptly in front of you and almost knocked you down in the process. 

“Didn’t know Rusty here had a girlfriend.” He said with a grin before turning his attention to Luke, wiggling his brows in a teasing maner.

“Oh, no, I'm just a friend.”

“Oh.”

“His best… friend, actually.” You tried to smile as sincerely as you could. The question never bothered you before, you two were close enough that such was expected, but the way Luke couldn’t look at you during the exchange with his teammate created a pit in your stomach.  

Before he could take you away from the awkwardness of it all, Cotter skated over too. “Here we go,” mumbled Luke. 

“Meeting the girlfriend without me?” 

“Not the girlfriend apparently.”

"Really?" He asked, his tone skeptical as his eyes flicked between you. "Could’ve fooled me."

Luke groaned, not missing the way his teammates exchanged knowing looks and chuckling under their breaths. He couldn’t really blame his teammates for jumping to conclusions. If he were in their shoes, he might have assumed the same thing, it happened way too often anyway.

He grabbed at your hand and pulled you towards him, skating as far as possible from everyone. Was it really that obvious he liked you? Yet, you were still by his side, seemingly not phazed by the constant nagging and teasing from outsiders about your relationship, which could only mean that you didn’t like him back. 

Luke was tired of all of this and the months he spent burying his feelings for you, convincing himself that your friendship was enough, were all coming down on him now with everyone assuming you were a couple. Feeling heavy, he hoped the family skate came to an end soon.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry about them.”

“That’s okay.”

You nodded but didn’t press further, not yet at least. Your hand came to rest around his bicep, seeking his warmth and pretending to need balance as you grew tired. 

The easy rhythm you found earlier was now gone. Luke could tell you were trying to bring yourself comfort by staying close to him, though you kept your gaze on the ground which could only mean you were absorbed in your thoughts. And he hated that it was all his fault, he hated the idea of you thinking he was embarrassed or annoyed by the assumption that you were together. Because he wasn’t, he had dreamed of being your boyfriend more times than he‘d like to admit. And he wanted nothing more than being able to call you his. 

Sensing your exhaustion, he led the way towards the bench to change back into normal shoes. The rink was quieter now, families thinning out. You leaned back, stretching your legs, and looked at him with a small frown on your lips. You didn’t have time to reach down when he brought up one of your feet to untie your skate.

“What’s on your mind, Luke?” 

Luke hesitated, his fingers fumbling with your skate laces. “Nothing.” 

“It’s not nothing, Luke. You’re too quiet, what’s wrong?”

“Does it not bother you when people ask if we’re a couple?”

You blinked at him, startled by the question. It wasn’t what you expected, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. Luke had stopped untying your skate, his hands frozen mid-motion as he waited for your answer. His expression was unreadable, but you could see the tension in his shoulders and the way his jaw tightened.

“Bother me?” You repeated softly, the chill of the rink seemed to seep into your skin, though you weren’t sure if it actually was the cold temperature or the sudden shift in the conversation. “No, not really. I mean, it happens all the time, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Luke nodded slowly, looking down at your skate again. He resumed working on the laces, but his movements were slower now, almost hesitant. You shifted slightly, your other foot tapping lightly against the rubber mat beneath the bench. 

“Does it bother you?” You tilted your head, watching him carefully. 

Luke let out a quiet sigh and dropped his hands on your leg. “I don’t know.” He admitted. “Sometimes, I guess. Not because of what they think, but… because of what it implies.”

“And what does it imply?” 

You echoed, your voice barely above a whisper. Your heart began to race, the steady rhythm you’d been clinging to slowly slipping away. You couldn’t help but search his face for clues, for anything that might explain the sudden vulnerability in his tone.

Luke hesitated, his green eyes flicking up to meet yours for something — permission, maybe, or courage. And for a moment, he seemed to be weighing his next words, his brows drawing together in a way that made your chest ache. 

“Luke…”

“I like you,” he said, the words tumbling out in a rush, as if he was afraid he’d lose his nerve if he waited any longer. “I’ve liked you for a while now and I’ve been trying so hard to pretend that I don’t. I can’t stand being apart from you, I need you close to the point where I am not my own person anymore. I’m tired of the ache in my chest everytime I have to leave you, not just for roadies, but every time we part ways, it’s like I’m a different person without you that I can't recognize.”

“When they say stuff like that, it just makes it harder because I want it to be true. I want us to be more than just friends. I want to wake up next to you and come home to you every day.”

You blinked, clearly caught off guard. You tried to open your mouth as if to speak, but he pressed on, the words tumbling out like water breaking through a dam. His words started fading in your racing mind. His confession hung in the air heavy and raw, and all of it felt like you’ve been hit by a truck. Luke, your best friend, liked you and you were glad he hadn't stopped talking because, truly, you didn’t know what to say.

Luke’s heart felt like it might burst from his chest, every beat echoing in his ears as he braced himself for rejection, for awkwardness, for the possibility that he’d just ruined everything. The silence that followed when he stopped taking felt like an eternity. And for a moment, you just stared at him, expression unreadable. 

“You don’t have to say anything. I just… wanted you to know.”

You dropped your foot to the ground and scooted closer to him. As he turned to face you, your hand pressed against his cheek and you leaned in to place a delicate kiss on his lips. It was soft, almost hesitant, but it was enough to make Luke freeze. His mind blanked, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it. When you pulled back, your face was mere inches from his, your hand still lingering on his cheek. Your cheeks were flushed, though whether from the cold or the weight of the moment, he couldn’t tell.

His heart pounded in his chest as you bit your lip, your hand dropping from his face to rest on your lap. 

“It’s always been you, Luke.” Your gaze met his once more, the blush on his cheeks making him cuter than he ever looked. Luke’s eyes widened, still incredulous even after your kiss. 

“Really?”

“Really.” You smiled, a small, tentative curve of your lips as you nodded.

He leaned forward slightly clearing his throat, his eyes searching yours. “Can I kiss you again?” He asked, voice barely audible.

This time, the kiss wasn’t hesitant or fleeting. It was soft and tender, a promise of everything you both hoped to build together. When you finally pulled apart, your foreheads rested against each other, and for the first time in a long while, everything felt right.

“Hey, lovebird! Tone it down a bit, there’s kids around.”

Luke groaned at one of the guys’ teasing from the other side of the rink, and you laughed at his antics, the weight on your shoulders had finally been lifted off. 

“So… does that mean you’ll be my girlfriend?” You didn’t know your cheeks could flush any more, and smiling at his question, you reached up to brush a stray strand of hair from his face.

“Eh, I’ll have to think about that.”

[https-lvesick]

( 지성 ) ── college boyfriend headcanons!

content . . 𝜗𝜚 fem!reader, smut, fingering, public sex, creampie

lola’s notes .: it wasn’t supposed to be a smut headcanon, but i can’t help myself by nct 127. i swear i’ll bring more fluff fics so you won’t think i’m a horny dog <3

college boyfriend!jisung isn’t just your boyfriend — he’s also your roommate. when you first moved in together, he was painfully shy, barely able to speak without blushing. it took two months for him to relax around you, but once he realized he was in love, he wasted no time showing you how much you meant to him.

college boyfriend!jisung who constantly goofs off during lectures, making you scold him every single time. but it’s not his fault! the professor is so boring, how could he possibly pay attention?

college boyfriend!jisung, affectionately known as your personal puppy. the sweet boy who’s always trailing after you around campus, carrying your books, your bag, or anything else you need — always ready with your favorite snack or drink in hand.

college boyfriend!jisung who has a habit of procrastinating his projects, pushing deadlines dangerously close until you step in to help. of course, this means you end up falling behind on your work while helping him scramble to finish his.

college boyfriend!jisung who’s surprisingly popular. not a day goes by without some random girl trying to flirt with him. but he always rejects them with polite kindness — even the ones who don’t deserve it — and makes it clear: he’s yours.

college boyfriend!jisung who loves to play innocent even when his fingers are deep inside your dripping cunt, teasing you under the desk during a lecture. he doesn’t care if you’re in class — as long as you’re relaxed and having fun, he’s satisfied.

college boyfriend!jisung who begs you to partner up for group projects because he’s too nervous to talk to other classmates, using his best puppy-dog eyes until you give in.

college boyfriend!jisung who’s always down to skip morning classes just to stay in bed a little longer — whether it’s for lazy, sweet snuggles or slow, passionate morning sex that turns an ordinary day into something colorful and unforgettable.

college boyfriend!jisung, the shy, silly boy everyone assumes is too innocent for anything risqué. some classmates even joke that he might still be a virgin who doesn’t know how to kiss his girlfriend properly — despite how undeniably attractive he is. if only they knew what happens behind closed doors.

college boyfriend!jisung who couldn’t resist you before class, emptying himself inside you until your legs wobbled and his cum dripped down your thighs — leaving you to navigate the rest of the day with a secret only the two of you shared.

college boyfriend!jisung who’s absolutely certain you’re the love of his life. with your graduation approaching, he’s been secretly, nervously debating whether to propose. his heart races at the thought of slipping a ring on your finger — because all he really wants is to spend forever with you.

did you enjoy your reading? why don’t reblog, like or leave a comment? this way i know you liked what i wrote and surely will keep up with the good content! 𖹭 masterlist

🏷 @jungaji @spacejip @lyvhie @sinisxtea @jirsungs

[skiagraphe0]

My father was put on Ozempic. He's diabetic. It being prescribed for a group it was designed for doesn't make it less dangerous. He is 5"9 and currently weighs 130 lbs - and that's after a year and a half of trying to recover the muscle he lost from being on it for six months. Because he's an immigrant whose first language isn't English and he has the equivalent of an 8th grade education, his medical and scientific knowledge is extremely limited. He trusted his doctor. If she said this was good for him, he believed it must be. If she said that being thin was a sign of health, he thought surely she must know what she was talking about - and his parents were olive farmers with thin, lean bodies, so that must be how health works, right?

He had a stroke. He lost 65 pounds in six months. He became so weak he struggled to stand without getting dizzy. At his lowest weight, when he had his stroke, I could see his spine. He had heart palpitations and struggled to speak in English because when your brain is chronically starved of nutrients, it often defaults to your first language/cannot process speaking/hearing others. His short term memory worsened.

I'm the only person here who speaks his first language. As in, there's less than fifty thousand people in the United States who speak it at all, and we're on the opposite side of the country from the one community of Uzbeks in the US. Imagine being too weak to sit up, unable suddenly to understand everyone around you, elderly, in pain you've never experienced before, and the one person who could help you has to rush home from France to Montana to get there. For three days he was in the hospital without any way of communicating with or to the medical personnel there. I blew through my savings to get back to him as fast as possible but I know, deep down, that there's unspoken, vast amounts of trauma from those three days he spent in effectively involuntary isolation.

All because he trusted his doctor, who assured him that thin = healthy, that if she said a medication was good, it had to be good for him. He wasn't even overweight to start with. Muscle weighs more than fat and he used to have muscle, but even with that, his BMI - which is an inaccurate, medically debunked BS method doctors insist on treating like fact - classified him as normal. But normal wasn't good enough. He needed to be thin to be seen as healthy.

Diabetics aren't being put on this to regulate their blood sugar, not all the time. Some of them are. Some of them have doctors who think being thin is the single most important thing/the best indicator of health.

I know I struggle with an eating disorder so this may sound like hypocrisy coming from me but: your life is more important than your weight.

Your life is more important than anything and everything about your appearance.

Just because a doctor suggests something doesn't make it safe.

I have been debating sharing this for some time, but with the new year weight loss ads amping up, I feel it's something I have to say. I'm worried for people's health.

Unless you've been living under a rock, you probably already know about people taking the diabetic drug ozempic for weight loss. You've probably heard the debates about the ethics of taking needed drugs away from diabetes patients and maybe even the side effect of "ozempic face." However, there is one side effect of taking these drugs that, in my opinion, people are not being warned about.

If you carefully pay attention to the television ads, you will hear them mention "pancreatitis" as a possible side effect. If you're like me a decade ago, that word probably means nothing to you. Let me warn you, however, it is no minor thing. My husband suffered from chronic pancreatitis for five agonizing years. The pain is beyond comprehension. Doctors who specialize in the pancreas describe it as the worst pain a human can endure. There is no actual cure. Little is understood about the disease, so treatment is difficult. Doctors who understand it are few and far between. It took my husband forever to get diagnosed. He went through multiple surgeries and procedures, but nothing worked. He had to go on an extremely limiting diet. If he varied from it in any way, he would have an attack. The only way to recover from an attack was to not eat at all for days, then slowly add in broth and jello. Did he lose weight? Yes. As a matter of fact, one day he stepped out of the shower, and I burst into tears at the sight of him. He was skin and bones - I could count every rib. Was it worth it to be thin? If you even ask that question, I'm concerned for your mental health.

They couldn't figure out exactly why my husband got pancreatitis. At that time, they thought only alcoholics and drug addicts got pancreatitis. This made it difficult to get compassionate medical care, unfortunately. Now they know that prescription medication (particularly diabetic medication) and high cholesterol can also cause it. Then there is another group - where they just don't know. But you better believe I would hesitate to take any medication that could cause pancreatitis. I would weigh my options carefully to assess if it was worth the risk. In my opinion, weight loss is not worth that risk.

My concern has been heightened seeing the Hers commercials for these drugs (under different names, but rest assured, it is the same thing). These commercials brag that you can get these drugs from Hers with just a simple virtual call, no questions asked. I wonder if people are fully aware of the risks of these drugs. I also wonder if we even know all of the risks yet. I also fear that the culture around these drugs could develop into an us vs. them mentality. That if it's so easy to be thin, why wouldn't you be? And some are getting dangerously thin on these drugs.

I know some diabetics who are on these drugs, and necessarily so. They tell me that it causes nausea when they eat. That's why they don't eat much. Again, that doesn't sound like a pleasant way to live. If you need it to regulate your blood sugar, that's one thing. But if you don't? Why would you do this to yourself?

My husband is now healed of pancreatitis. It was a miracle. You may not believe in that sort of thing, but I'm telling you, there is no other explanation. We had exhausted every medical solution, then the pandemic hit. We were concerned because hospitals were only taking life or death cases. What if he had a bad attack and needed an iv of pain meds? What would we do? Weeks passed - no pain. A month passed - no pain. Six weeks passed - no pain. He decided to grill a steak - something he hadn't been able to even take a nibble of in 5 years. I watched him take a bite, holding my breath. Nothing. He ate the whole thing. No pain. Five years later, still no pain. The doctors can't explain it, either.

So our story has a happy ending. Not everyone else's does. I hope people take the time to read this. If you do, please, please share it. I don't want anyone suffering needlessly.

[hanniebaeee]

The Wedding Heist

Danceracha x fem!reader

Warnings: some threats

Genre: Best friends to lovers?, fluff, angst

Summary: Your parents are forcing you to marry a man you don't love or even begin to think of a life partner. You're being kept locked at your home, and your best friends (well, it's obviously more than friendship here) are planning a wedding heist - stealing the bride on the wedding day!

a/n: Also from a dream I had 🤭 Also I don't hate Yeonjun (or me) - just a character in the story !!

The smell of something burning filled the boys’ apartment, but Minho barely noticed as he stabbed furiously at the wok with his spatula. Two other pots boiled on the stove, one very close to spilling over.

But he didn’t seem to care. If he didn't keep moving, he was pretty sure he’d implode.

In the living room, Felix was a mess - blotchy tear-streaked cheeks, and brownie crumbs everywhere. He sat cross-legged on the sofa with a giant plate of brownies in his lap, sobbing as he shoveled the treat into his mouth.

“I j-just don’t understand!” he wailed, crumbs spraying everywhere. “Why isn’t she texting back?!”

“She obviously doesn’t have her phone, Yongbok,” Minho said, his shoulders sagged under his own misery. “Her parents must have taken it just to make sure we can’t talk to her.”

Felix’s face crumpled. He let out another sob and crammed another brownie into his mouth.

“W-We’re supposed to protect her! But we're just sitting here and letting her suffer! What if she thinks we don’t care?”

Across the room, Hyunjin was perched on the window sill, staring into the night like a lovesick Victorian poet. He hadn’t spoken in days, his brooding silence actually starting to make the atmosphere even more miserable - if that was even possible.

His hair was unkempt and dark circles shadowed his eyes - he has done nothing but mourn your absence from his life.

Minho side-eyed him while poking furiously at his chicken.

“Alright, broody. That's enough. Both of you, stop. This isn't doing us any good!” he snapped, and Hyunjin hopped off the window sill, glaring at Minho. 

“You think I’m sulking? She’s getting married - to some random asshole who doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her - and you’re over there making soup!”

“It’s a stir-fry,” Minho deadpanned. 

“She’s probably crying herself to sleep, and you’re stir-frying?” Hyunjin hissed. “We should be doing something! Not standing around like idiots while Yeonjun gets to -”

Felix burst into fresh sobs at the name.

“Don’t say his name! Please!” He said, hiccupping through the tears. “He doesn’t deserve her. He doesn't…What if she's moved on? What if -”

Hyunjin whirled around, facing Felix, taking two steps towards him. 

“Don’t you dare.” His voice was low and he sounded so furious, Felix looked terrified. “Don’t you dare question how she feels. She loves us. She’s just… stuck. You know that.”

Minho groaned, tossing his spatula onto the counter.

��Okay, this won't do. Hyunjin, stop scaring him. And Felix, you know her better than anyone.” He said, glaring at both of them. “We’re not sitting around and crying anymore.”

“We’re going to…going to stop the wedding, then?” Hyunjin asked, his eyes moving from Minho to Felix.

Felix sat up straight, brownie crumbs falling down his sweater.

“Ok, so we find out where she’s being kept, get her out of there, and make sure her parents know they can’t control her anymore.” Minho offered, and Felix just looked at Minho and Hyunjin with wide eyes, his mouth falling open. 

“Alright, but we need to be smart about this. Her parents are probably watching her like hawks.” Hyunjin added. 

“Let's do it then.” Felix said, finally putting the plate away and brushing the crumbs off him. 

The car was parked a safe distance from your family manor. Everything was so silent, but the tension inside felt like a blaring alarm.

Hyunjin sat in the driver’s seat, staring at the security guards patrolling your front yard. Felix was watching from the back, and he already looked so discouraged, it was sad. Minho, on the other hand, looked like he was about to start breathing fire.

“This is ridiculous,” Minho spat. “What do they think she’s going to do? Tunnel out of the house with a spoon?”

“M-Maybe they think we’re going to rescue her…” Felix hiccupped, his red-rimmed eyes peeking out from under his sleeve.

Hyunjin gripped the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles turned white.

“We can’t even get close to her,” Felix choked out. “She’s right there, and we can’t do anything! What if she thinks -”

“She’s not going to think anything,” Hyunjin said softly, but there was a shadow of doubt in his voice.

He looked back at the house, the corners of his mouth tightening. Minho, however, wasn’t having any of it. He slammed his fist against the dashboard, startling both of them.

“No. No way. We’re not giving up. If we can’t get her out now, we’ll do it when it matters most.”

“What do you mean?” Felix blinked at him, sniffling. 

“The wedding. If they want to lock her up until she says ‘I do,’ fine. Let them think they’ve won. But when she’s at that venue? She’s ours.” Minho said, his jaw clenching. 

“You’re saying we crash the wedding?” Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, completely invested in this plan. 

“No,” Minho said, a devilish smirk forming on his lips. “We steal the bride. We’ll take her someplace where she can actually be happy.”

---

Back at their apartment, the boys huddled around the coffee table, a hand drawn map of the wedding venue (courtesy Hyunjin) spread out in front of them. Minho was pointing at various parts of the map with a chopstick like a general planning a siege.

“Felix,” Minho began. “Your job is the most important. You’re going to sneak into her dressing room and get her out. I hope you're good at climbing because -”

“I’ll climb whatever you need me to climb!” Felix interrupted, looking determined.

Minho gave him a half-smile.

“Well, you'd climb in through her window for now,” he said. “While you’re doing that, I’ll create a distraction to draw security away from her side of the venue. Fire alarms, and maybe some smoke bombs -”

“Smoke bombs?” Hyunjin cut in, looking suspicious. 

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to,” Minho shot back, smirking. “Anyway, while we’re at it, Hyunjin will have the car ready and waiting.”

“I can handle that.” Hyunjin said, arms crossed and leaning back. “But what about after we get her out? They’ll chase us.” 

“Let them,” Minho said. “She's an adult. She can easily make a police complaint about being kept locked in, and maybe get a restraining order or something.”

Felix bounced in his seat, as he said, “This is gonna work. I know it will! She’ll see us, and she’ll know we’re there for her.”

Hyunjin gave a small smile and said, “She’ll know.”

It was the day of your wedding, and you were sitting in the dressing room, suffocating in the layers of white silk and lace - waiting for your death sentence. The pressure in your chest grew with every passing second. This was so wrong. This whole thing was. 

You stood in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection with terror. The dress was stunning, yes. But it didn’t feel like it belonged to you. Not when you had no say in it. 

Memories of last night surfaced and you felt extremely nauseated. You'd begged Yeonjun to reconsider this insanity. You’d pleaded with him, told him how you didn't want this.

But his response had been one that you'd never forget. 

He'd sneered at you and grabbed your chin so harshly as he said, “You’ll learn to be grateful for this. I’m going to teach you your place. And when I'm done, no one's gonna want you again. Especially those losers you call your friends.”

You felt your stomach churn. You weren’t afraid of him - no, not really - but you couldn’t deny the power he held over you. 

The power your own parents had bestowed upon him. Because they thought it was ok for him to threaten you into submission. 

And that terrified you.

More than anything, the thought that you'd never see Felix, Minho or Hyunjin ever again - that crushed you. There wasn't a night that you didn't cry over how much you missed them. They meant the world to you.

You walked towards the giant window, gazing out while considering climbing out. You wondered if that was actually feasible when suddenly, a face appeared just in front of you.

A very familiar, and very attractive, face.

“Felix?” you gasped, your heart leaping into your throat as you quickly grabbed his arm helping him through the open window.

He was dressed in a white suit that made him look like the literal definition of an angel sent to save you. His eyes were wide, and he looked like he was ready to weep.

“Oh my god, baby…” Felix whispered, and you barely had time to process this before he was pulling you into an hug.

The sob that escaped you was strangled and pained. You wrapped your arms around him, clutching him like he would disappear any minute.

You weren't even sure if you were hallucinating from hunger and exhaustion or if he was actually here. What helped was his scent - he smelled like vanilla and something spicy. And more than anything, he felt like home.

“Oh my god, Lixie, what are you doing here?” you asked breathlessly, tears streaming down your face.

“I’m here to take you home, of course,” he said softly, cupping your cheeks and brushing his lips against your forehead before moving to kiss you full on the lips - deep and slow. This was your first time kissing him, honestly, it sent shivers down your spine. You could feel his heart racing against yours, and his hands slipped down to your waist, holding you tight against him.

Felix was here. And he was taking you away.

He pulled back, his eyes taking in your wedding dress and a soft smile grazed his face as he said, “You’re so beautiful,”

You could see the lust burning in his eyes, a hunger that he was trying so hard to suppress. But there was no time to indulge in it now.

“Come on,” Felix whispered, taking your hand gently and guiding you toward the door. When he opened it, you gasped loudly, because you saw Minho stalking towards you and Felix with a smug grin on his face. 

“Minho!” you said, as your heart pounding in your chest. He was so damn sexy in his suit, his expression a perfect mix of arrogance and affection.

He didn’t even give you a chance to react before he was pulling you into his arms, wrapping his arms tightly around you.

“You're not getting married today, sweetheart,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear.

You blinked at him as you tried to take this all in. You were sure your life was over till about five minutes ago. You were scared to even hope, because at this moment, you had a lot of it flowing through you. 

You glanced around, looking for Hyunjin. But you don't have time to ask where he was, because at the exact moment a shrill sound fills the area.

A fire alarm. The wail echoed down the hall, and you could hear a soft hiss of smoke drifting from somewhere in the building. There were people running towards the source of the sound and the smoke filling the area.

“Minho…” you said, your voice almost incredulous, “Did you set off the fire alarm?”

“Would you prefer I hadn’t?” Minho teased, and Felix chuckled softly behind you.

You didn’t have time to process what was happening before Minho was pulling you in for a kiss of his own. And the look he gave you promised you something safe and beautiful you couldn't have dared to dream of until a few minutes ago. 

“We're taking you away from all this,” Minho said, breaking the kiss. “You belong with us.”

As if on cue, you heard the door swing open from the other side, and Yeonjun’s voice cut through the air like a knife.

“What the hell is going on?!” he bellowed, his face twisting in rage. “Where is Y/N?!”

The three of you ran. It was an absolute pain to run in that damn dress (which you thought was why Yeonjun wanted you to wear it in the first place - so you can't run away from him). And those heels - you kicked them off and Felix quickly lifts the front part of your dress a bit so you weren't tripping on it. 

And you ran.

Minho pushed open the door and you could hear Yeonjun’s loud voice even through the fire alarm. And the three of you raced down the steps, and there. 

Leaning against a sleek black car was Hyunjin.

Your heart skipped a beat. He looked even more stunning than usual in his suit. But it wasn’t just his looks that made you shiver - no. 

It was the way he stepped forward, grabbing you by the hand and pulling you into his chest. And again, he stole your breath away (like he always did) by kissing you. 

Hyunjin kissed you right in front of Yeonjun, and the kiss was rough and desperate, like he’d been waiting for this moment forever.

Yeonjun stood frozen for a moment, as the wedding guests and your family surrounded him. Obviously, there wasn't much he could do anymore. His perfect reputation was at risk here.

Hyunjin pulled back, his hand still gripping your waist as he gave Yeonjun a cold glare. And then taking your hand in his, he slipped your engagement ring off your finger, and tossed it towards Yeonjun, who looked like a volcano ready to explode. 

“Not today, you loser,” Hyunjin said with a smirk, watching as the ring tumbled through the air and landed at Yeonjun’s feet with a soft clink. “Not my girl.”

You were frozen, your heart racing as Minho and Felix joined you and Hyunjin, keeping you well shielded from your parents’ glare. But no one said anything.

Not a word.

Felix squeezed your hand, and Minho patted your shoulder as he watched you gaze at your parents who didn't look apologetic at all. Hyunjin pressed a soft kiss on your temple before leading you toward the car. 

And as Hyunjin opened the car door and grinned at you, you knew. It wasn’t just the end of a wedding - it was the beginning of your life, your new life, with your three beautiful boys. It was complicated, yes. But one thing you knew for sure was that they'd never let you shed a tear again.

And hell, you couldn't wait for whatever this was because you were finally with your boys. 

Divider - @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @satosugu4l

[paperclip-skz]

Love 2 Walk

Chan x reader 

Warning: fingering, kissing, the mention of nicknames (babygirl), praising, teasing, squirting, fingering, overstimulation,cream pie (wrap it up), rough sex, over clothes stimulation, I’m sure I missed smt let me know in the comments!

WC: 6.5k.... I know..

Also note: This story is HEAVLY influenced by the Webtoon series Love 4 Walk. This is just "my" version of it, you could say. I am writing to write and I recommend you read the series. *** This is not an original idea, this IS INSPIRED BY AN ANIME**

Credits to: Nuria Sanguino for the ORIGINAL webtoon story!!

Synopsis: how does one fall hopelessly in love with their neighbor? Oh, no biggy, just by walking their dog 😉.

******

Beep beep beep. 

The sun streams through the cracks in my bedroom curtains, casting warm beams of light that punctuate the shadows of the room. I squint against the brightness, feeling the dull thrum of morning settling around me. “Ugh,” I groan, reluctantly peeling my eyelids apart to greet the day. But just as I begin to indulge in a few more moments of drowsy tranquility, a sudden, playful jab from a hard little foot strikes me squarely in the side. “Ow, Bruno! Just five more minutes,” I croak out, my voice thick with sleep.

Yet, my protest is short-lived. In mere moments, Bruno, my exuberant Doberman, has taken matters into his own paws. He’s showering my face with enthusiastic kisses, the warm, wet sensations breaking through my lingering sleepiness. “Ew,” I manage to squeak out, half-heartedly stretching my arms above my head and swiping at the slobber glistening on my cheek. 

As my senses awaken fully, I finally focus on the source of my morning disturbance. There’s Bruno, sitting next to my bed with his tail wagging vigorously; the unmistakable joy radiating from him is infectious. His glossy coat shines in the sunlight, and his big, brown eyes are practically pleading with me. Any lingering frustration I had evaporated, replaced by an overwhelming wave of affection. How could I possibly stay mad at that adorable, eager face?

“Awe, who’s my baby boy?” I coo in a sing-song voice, unable to resist the allure of his charm. “Are you just bursting with excitement to go for a walk?” 

With a playful bark and a little tap dance of his paws, Bruno seems to agree emphatically. 

Thirty minutes later, after a whirlwind of getting ready, I stand by the door of my apartment, dressed in my work clothes—an elegant blouse paired with tailored trousers and my favorite heels. I take a moment to adjust my outfit, making sure everything is in place, when Bruno bounces in anticipation, ready for our quick thirty-minute adventure before my workday begins. With a final glance in the mirror and a quick pat on Bruno’s head, I open the door, stepping out into the brisk morning air, ready for whatever the day may hold….

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< 

Bruno is an exceptional dog and undeniably the best companion I could ever have. His floppy ears and wagging tail always bring a smile to my face, even when he defies my commands with his playful mischief. We have a special bond, one forged through countless adventures and quiet moments together—always Bruno and I against the world.

Yet, our daily walks have become increasingly challenging. The moment we step outside, his excitement takes over; he pulls on the leash with fervor, eager to explore every scent and sound. It feels like I’m trying to hold back a small locomotive, making it more and more difficult to keep him by my side. And then there are my shoes. Oh, my poor shoes! They’ve transformed into his favorite chew toys, often left in a state of disarray, bits of fabric hanging from his mischievous mouth. Despite his less-than-stellar listening skills, I remind myself daily of the joy he brings into my life.

Today is a special day. As I prepare to leave for work, I’m excitedly installing my brand new doggie cam—a small but powerful device that promises to give me a window into his world while I’m away. “Now, Bruno,” I tell him, crouching down so we’re eye to eye. “With this camera, I’ll be able to see everything you do, so I hope you behave yourself!” His ears perk up, flicking back and forth in what seems like focused attention, and for a moment, I almost believe he comprehends the weight of my words.

Standing at the threshold, I hesitate, reluctant to close the door fully. I peek through the small crack, watching him as he sniffs around the room, his tail wagging like a little flag of excitement. “Be good, buddy,” I say softly, my voice laced with affection and a hint of concern. With that, I finally muster the courage to shut the door, leaving him in the safety of our home—hoping he’ll have some fun but also checking in on him from afar.

**** at work

“Gooood morning” I announce. 

“Good morning Y/N” Annie greets me behind her little cubicle desk. “So when can I tell you about last night's new hottie” he exclaims, clapping her hands. 

“In one sec, just let me check my new cam.” I eagerly open my phone to check my camera…

“Oh good heavens.” my face drops in horror as I watch my Baby Bruno shred the cushions of my couch to pieces!

“What??” Annie looks at me worried, and I turn my phone to show the scary scene unfolding in my living room.

“Oh, honey.” Her face mimics mine, hurt with a mix of fright. " You need to get that dog a trainer,” she admits. 

I sigh in defeat….”I think it's time.” 

***** back at home

After the day is done and my head is pounding, I finally make it up the stairs to my apartment. I steady my hand on the door handle, unprepared to see the damage. The door creeks open and my jaw drops. 

“BRUNO WHAT DID YOU DO!” the pillows are torn, the cushions are ripped, somehow the paintings on the wall are tilled at an angle and the carpet is folded over!

“BRUNO HOW COULD YOU! BAD DOG! BAD BAD BAD!”

~~~~

“There she goes again,” Chan grobbles, lifting himself off of his bed. He slings his arm into one of his shirts and slips his socked feet into some nearby crocs. “Wait here girl, I’ll be right back”.

The familiar sound of his neighbor's high-pitched screams fills the air, a jarring reminder of her vibrant personality. She often yells about movies, her passionately animated rants echoing through the thin walls whenever she's on a call. He can almost picture her pacing back and forth, waving her arms in excitement or frustration over the latest plot twist. And then there’s her dog, a big, overly energetic creature who seems to be the target of her shouts on most days. Whether it’s scolding him for stealing a shoe, begging him to stop barking, or even adoring him for the smallest things, her voice carries down the hallway, a constant backdrop to his weary journey home.

He slams his fits against her front door, “hello!” he calls. 

The sound of her heels clicking rhythmically against the wooden floor echoed through the hallway, growing louder with each step until the door swung open. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, his irritation evident in the sharpness of his voice. “Can you keep it down? Your yelling woke me up.” 

She paused at the threshold, her wide eyes filled with a mixture of apology and concern. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice soft and sincere. “I pro-” But her attempt to explain was abruptly interrupted as Bruno seized the moment, darting past her and out the door in a sudden, frantic escape.

“BRUNO” 

“Sit!” Chan commands firmly, his voice cutting through the air and surprising Bruno, who hadn't been anticipating the order. The suddenness of it makes Bruno halt immediately, his posture shifting as he straightens up. He glances back over his shoulder, locking eyes with Chan, seeking reassurance or perhaps understanding. 

“Sit!” Chan repeats, his tone unyielding yet encouraging. Without a moment’s hesitation, Bruno plops down right in front of Chan, a look of bewilderment etched across his face. His large, expressive eyes convey a mixture of confusion and eagerness to please.

“Good boy, come,” Chan praises, his smile widening as he encourages Bruno to follow the next command. With an enthusiastic wag of his tail, Bruno leaps to his feet, ready to obey, his previous uncertainty dissolving as he tracks Chan's movements closely. He follows each instruction effortlessly.

“Go on,” Chan says, guiding Bruno back inside. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just keep it down, will ya?” Once he looks back at his neighbor, her jaw slacks, and her eyes are blown. 

“How…how did you do that?” 

“You just have to be stern. Now I’m going back to sleep.” Chan turns back to his door, but Y/N leaps in front of him. 

“Will you train my dog?!”

~~~~~~~

“I’ll pay you!” I exclaim. This has to be a sign. A gorgeous man that just happens to live right next door to me, AND Bruno listens to me, my prayers have been answered. 

“What” he furrows his brow. 

“Just watch him while I’m away at work, train him a little so he dosn’t ruin my apartment, and….don’t steal anything” I shrug. 

“Ruin your apartment?”.....

>>>> back in the apartment

“So this is ‘ruin your apartment’” he air quotes gesturing to the mess that is my living room.

“Is it not” I question, while Bruno makes himself comfortable on my torn couch. He wags his tail happily as he chew on one of his favorite toys. 

“Fair enough” Chan walks around the living room scanning all the little details of the room. He spins on the ball of his heel, “that’ll be…$20 an hour” he says bluntly.

WHAT! I scream in my head. “$20 an hour! I work a full 8-hour shift, thats too much!”

“Yup, take it or leave it” he shrugs. 

I took a deep breath, knowing full well that adopting Bruno wasn’t merely a casual commitment; it was a full-time job that came with a mountain of responsibilities. The thought of him sitting at home alone, wanting companionship and care, tugged at my heart. To me, Bruno wasn’t just a pet; he was family, and like any family, he deserved nothing but the best. 

After contemplating, I straightened my shoulders and decided, “Fine. I’ll do it.” My voice rang with determination, surprising Chan, who blinked at me in astonishment. It seemed my willingness to accept the terms had caught him off guard.

 I couldn’t help but add, “My Bruno deserves the best.” This was more than just a job offer; it was my promise to ensure he received the love and attention he warranted.

A moment passed and I could a hint of a smile on his lips…. His rosey plump lips that I am not just noticing how beautiful they are. And how his eyes shine in the light so perfectly, or how his hair falls just above his eyes, or how broad his chest is….Y/N snap out of it!

“Okay, well then you’ll need to pay me by the end of the week, and I’ll need a spare key to your apartment.”

“Right,” my voice wavers. It suddenly hits me at once: I just invited a complete stranger into my apartment, offered to pay him, and spend time with the most important person in my life. What the hell am I doing? 

My nerves are on edge, causing me to scrutinize each and every move he makes. I observe him intently, my gaze fixed like that of a hawk, as he gently strokes the soft fur of my beloved Baby Bruno. I can’t help but notice how his fingers delicately glide over Bruno’s back, and I feel a surge of protectiveness wash over me. Every interaction seems to unravel layers of my anxiety, making me hyper-aware of the atmosphere around us.

“I can hear your nerves from here, you know” Bruno spins a s circle around Chan; his little happy dance always eases my anxiety. “Look, I was kidding about the 20-an-hour thing. 20 a week is perfectly fine.” 

My jaw shuts like a cartoon. “But- why-” 

“Becuase I know how much you love your dog” 

“But we only just met” I counter. 

“I told you I can hear everything through the walls” 

I scratch my brain trying to think what he could possibly mean…until it hits me. 

<<<<<<<<<< the past

Four months ago, I was dating this guy. We thought that before moving on to the next steps—getting married, having kids, the whole shebang—it would be best to practice responsibility together by getting a dog.

But I guess we all show our true colors under pressure.

“LET'S JUST GET RID OF THE DAMN THING!” Noah shouted at the top of his lungs.

“NO, WE ADOPTED HIM! WE TOOK ON THE RESPONSIBILITY! WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF THIS WERE OUR CHILD AND THEY WERE ACTING OUT?” I screamed back at him, tears streaking down my cheeks as I held on tightly to Bruno's body. The shattered lamp lay broken into pieces around us.

“BUT THIS ISN’T OUR KID, THIS IS JUST A DAMN DOG. THAT’S IT, Y/N, YOU HAVE TO CHOOSE, ME OR THE DAMN DOG”

After that night, I told myself I would never let anyone come between me and Bruno. If someone couldn’t understand our bond, then no one could understand me. 

>>>>>>>>>> the present 

“You heard the fight that night.” 

Chan just hums as he continues petting Bruno’s fur. “I was so pissed off that night, but once I heard you yell at him to leave, I knew you and I were the same is some ways” 

“Oh?” I question crossing my hands over my chest. 

“You and I share the same belief: people can hurt, lie, and abandon you, but dogs simply do not have it in their hearts to do the same.” He says, his eyes bleeding with truth. Even though I’ve been a dog owner for only a short time, I love Bruno more than I could ever imagine. I see his innocence, and I know he would never hurt me or anyone else without a valid reason. He’s not like everyone else in the world; he simply can’t hurt anyone.

“Wait…the same belief?” 

Chan chuckles to himself, “Yeah, I have a dog. Her name is Berry, she’s a King Charles” 

>>>>> time jump!

And so the morning training walks began. 

Chan would come over during the week and stay with Bruno until you returned home from work. He’d train Bruno to listen and obey while you worked the day away. 

Chan would also accompany you on your daily morning walk, thats when you met Berry. She was clearly Chan’s princess, feeding her only the best treats and dressing her up in tiny bows to compliment her wavy fur. 

The weeks rolled by and you and Chan became pretty good friends, quickly finding a perfect medium in your relationship….so why did your heart race every time he got a little too close? Or why did you immediately recognize his vanilla smell every time he left your apartment, and why did it make your head dizzy with need? 

>>> another time jump!

“Ahhh, Saturdays. How I adore Saturdays,” I exclaimed softly, sighing contentedly as I cradle a warm mug of coffee in my hands. The rich aroma envelops me, and I take a small, savoring sip, letting the smooth brew awaken my senses. “No work, late mornings,” I murmur, my gaze drifting out the window. The horizon glows with the gentle hues of dawn, while the sun begins to rise, casting golden rays through the leaves of the trees that sway gracefully in the soft breeze.

“Woof!” Bruno barks enthusiastically, abruptly pulling me from my serene reverie.

“Ah, Bruno,” I say, chuckling lightly. Can’t you wait just five more seconds? You just have to have your walk, don’t you?” I lean my body weight on the counter, my fingers tracing the surface as I look down at him. His head tilts to the side, a curious expression illuminating his face, and those big, expressive eyes radiate eagerness.

“I can’t lie…I’m excited too,” I admit with a grin, bouncing slightly on the balls of my feet. My excitement feels palpable as if it's sparking an electric current in the air around me. 

I can't wait to see those captivating coffee-stained eyes, filled with warmth and kindness, and that broad chest—strong and dependable—it makes my mind race with ideas of how strong his arms truly are. 

Moments later, I find myself stepping out of my apartment in my bright sunshine yellow sundress. The fabric dances lightly around my knees as I clip the leash onto Bruno’s collar, ready for our afternoon adventure. Just as I’m about to close the door behind me, I hear Chan’s voice call out from a short distance away.

“Oh hey, Y/N!” Chan exclaims, his friendly tone breaking the afternoon stillness.

I turn my head over my shoulder, securing my clutch with one hand as I turn the key in the lock. There, walking out of his apartment is Chan, accompanied by his delightful little dog, Berry. A smile spreads across my face as I catch sight of them. “Hey, Chan!” I reply, my excitement bubbling up as I get down on my knees to greet Berry. 

“Hey there, pretty princess!” I say, reaching out to pet Berry’s soft fur. The small brown dog wiggles with delight, her tiny tail wagging furiously as she happily responds to my touch.

Chan walks a bit closer, observing the playful antics of our dogs. “You guys going on a walk, too?” he asks, a knowing smile on his face. He watches Bruno and Berry bounce around each other like they’ve been friends for ages. Despite the stark contrast in their sizes—Bruno is a towering fluffy creature and Berry a petite little ball of energy—their friendship is evident. It’s as if Berry doesn’t even notice the size difference; her joy is contagious. 

“Yea,” I answer, lifting from my knees. 

“Can we tag along?”

>>> Saturday walk

“Why are you still at that job?!” Chan exclaims, his laughter bubbling from his chest. 

“Because it pays well,” I laugh with him. I just told him about my last boss, who got fired for accidentally showing some… sensitive material during a meeting a few months ago. “I really enjoy my job. Even though it can be a bit boring sometimes, I love being in a business that brings joy to people,” I explain.

Chan listens and nods, watching our dogs as they walk closely together. “You know, you’ve never really told me in detail what you do for work,” I say, nudging his shoulder.

“Well,” he scratches the back of his neck. I’m a producer, as you know.” I nod. " People send me voice tracks, and I make other tracks to make a song.” He shrugs, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. 

“Yes yes, you’ve told me all that before, but who have you worked for” I raise my brow intending to tease him. 

“Haha, I can’t tell you that” he mimics my earlier shrug. 

“Uugh” I groan. “Fine, if you can’t tell me who you work with, then can you at least tell me what kind of music you work on?” I ask, pleading with my eyes. 

He just smirks and thinks about it for a second, making a dramatic attempt to stall, “okay…I work on a lot of hip hop music and rap music. I also dabble in rock” he sighs out, his smile spreading across his cheeks. He so obviously proud of his work it's cute. 

“Can I hear it?” I ask biting my lip. I know I’m asking for too much, he’s already so careful around me, especially talking about his work. 

He brings us to a halt looking down at me. I can tell he’s thinking hard about this, he’s staring so intently at me, but his face softens, and he relaxes, like a weight has lifted off of his chest. 

~~~~~

This is his chance, he finally has an excuse to ask you over to his place. Its the perfect timing, the perfect reason, and the perfect way. So why can’t the words fall off his lips? 

Why can’t he take his eyes off of you and why can’t his body move?!

From the moment you entrusted him with the responsibility of looking after Bruno while you were busy at work, a subtle shift began to take place in the dynamic between you two. As days turned into weeks, he found himself increasingly drawn to you in ways he hadn’t anticipated. Initially, he brushed off his feelings, attributing them to mere loneliness - He thought he was just infatuated with the first beautiful girl who caught his attention.

However, everything changed the day he heard your laughter for the first time. It rang out like music, bright and infectious, enveloping him in a warmth that made his heart race. It was like fireworks shooting out of his chest, and his whole body felt like it was lifting off the ground. And your smile, god how he could never get used to that smile. He loved the way your eyes squeezed tight when your smile met your ears, he knew you couldn’t fake a smile, your real smile was just too genuine.

At that moment, he felt an undeniable spark, a realization that his feelings ran far deeper than he had ever imagined. He would catch himself stealing glances at you, captivated not just by your appearance but also by your kindness, your passion—everything that made you uniquely you. It dawned on him that what he thought was a passing fancy had transformed into something much more.

“Have dinner at my place” it tumbles out like a wall crashing down. 

“What?”

Oh shit. Make words make sense. “You can hear one of the songs I’m working on, if you come over, and since you’d be over why not just have dinner?” nice. 

Your face is the embodiment of shock, and confusion…but the second he sees that lovely smile appear he finally lets himself breath. “Okay!” you bounce. 

“Okay, so my place, lets say….6?” stay calm stay calm stay calm.

“Yea, 6 is great!”

>>>>>> that night

Okay, red dress or black? I rummage through my clothes in my closet deciding what's best to wear to a friend's dinner. Ugh, but I don’t want to be friends. What says “I don’t want to be friends I want to be more, but I also don’t want to make you uncomfortable with the wrong message”? 

Black….just go with the black dress. 

I glide my hands over the soft fabric of the outfit, feeling how it clings comfortably to my skin. The cardigan, in a rich shade of blue, perfectly complements my favorite colors, adding a vibrant touch to my overall look. My cherry red lipstick stands out brilliantly, making my eyes sparkle when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. "Finally done," I say with a satisfied smile, admiring how everything comes together.

Turning away, I notice Bruno, my faithful companion, peacefully sleeping on my bed. His fur glimmers softly in the ambient light. I can’t resist walking over to him, and I lean down to plant a gentle air kiss on his forehead, whispering, "Goodnight, my good boy." With a fond glance back at him, I head toward the door.

Its only a few short steps before I’m knocking on Chan’s door. I can hear the shuffle of him and Berry behind the wood, before the door swings open. 

“Hey!” he says, his smile reaching his eyes. 

“Hey” I giggle back. He steps aside so I can gracefully walk in and I immediately lean down to pet Berry. “Hi princess” I sing. 

“Okay okay, the princess can go to bed” he says as he leans down to pick Berry up and take her away to some hidden room.

Once he comes back he sees the pout on my face, “she was fine” I say.

“I know, but now is the time for the adults.” my cheeks flush. “Wine?”

“Love some” 

*****************

“Wow, that was incredible!” I exclaim, setting down my knife, my plate completely bare.

“Thanks,” he replies, his cheeks tinged with a hint of shyness as he leans down to collect our empty plates.

“I really mean it! I had no idea you were such a talented cook,” I tease, my voice playful and inviting.

“Ha, yeah, well, I guess we both have our secrets,” he shrugs, his eyes sparkling as he heads to the kitchen sink.

His words linger in the air. I really don’t know much about him, maybe we could change this. “How about we spice things up and play a drinking game? It’ll be a fun way to get to know each other,” I smile, raising my nearly empty glass with a seductive glimmer in my eye.

He pauses for a moment, the intrigue clear in his gaze, then settles back onto the couch, nodding in agreement. “What exactly are the rules of this drinking game?” 

I smirk, pulling my glass closer to my chest, the heat of the wine pulsing through my veins. "Alright, we play my game. You guess something about me—if you’re right, I drink; if you’re wrong, you drink. And vice versa." I let a playful glimmer dance in my eyes, the alcohol enhancing the seductive atmosphere between us.

"Okay, I’ll bite, but I get to go first," he replies with a mischievous spark. I can’t help but let a soft laugh escape my lips.

“Fine,” I shrug, my anticipation growing as I lean in slightly, inviting his guess.

“You have a boyfriend. Or a significant other,” he states confidently, raising an eyebrow.

I giggle, the bluntness of his question only adding to the intrigue. “Nope, no boyfriend here.” I lift my glass, letting the rich wine flow over my lips as I take a slow sip.

With an amused nod, he watches me, his smile radiant. “My turn,” I announce, shifting into a more relaxed position, making the moment linger.

“Your tattoo has a special meaning.” I point to the subtle peek of ink just visible on his back.

He glances at where I'm pointing, pulling his shirt down slightly to reveal more of the hidden art. “Of course,” he replies, his confidence shining through. “All my tattoos have a story.”

“All?” I tease, my curiosity piqued.

He bites his lip, teasing me with the thought of dodging my question, but it’s too late for that. He lifts his shirt, revealing a breathtaking view—a chiseled chest adorned with art. 

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, my gaze fixating on the three delicate paw prints trailing down his shoulder, but it’s the intricate compass that captivates me most. “What’s the story behind it?” I challenge.

“That’s another question,” he replies, turning to hold my gaze.

“Had to try,” I smirk, reveling in the tension hanging thick in the air.

“It’s not just about the story,” he says, searching my eyes. “It’s about the people it represents—my seven friends. I owe them everything.”

“I’ve always wanted a tattoo,” I muse, my thoughts spilling out, fueled by the warmth of the wine swirling in me.

He turns fully to face me, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine. He slowly reaches out, his fingers brushing against my ankle. “It would look stunning here,” he whispers, tracing along my skin. A flush spreads across my cheeks, and I feel the closeness ignite something primal within me.

For a heartbeat, it feels like the world has paused—our breaths mingling, the air alive with unspoken desire. “The wine is sure affecting you, huh?” he chuckles softly, never breaking that deep eye contact.

“Lightweight,” I tease, biting my lip, the game intensifying. “Do you want to stop?”

“Now that it’s my turn? Not a chance, baby,” he replies, his voice low and teasing.

A desperate want ignites within me, a need that spreads like wildfire, consuming my thoughts. “You’d be bothered if I told you I dream about you,” he confesses, caught in the moment.

A gasp slips from my lips, but truthfully, I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t drink—because I dream about him too. So, I throw back the rest of my wine, not caring about the intoxicating aftermath, only focused on the tension lingering between us.

“My turn,” I start, I set my glass on the table in front of us, and move so I can crawl towards his trembling body, “If I kiss you right now,” I come close to his body, inches away from his lips, my breath coating his skin making goosebumps appear on his muscled arms. “You’ll kiss me back” I bore into his eyes, which are pooling with lust. 

A sheer moment of silence fills the room; you can feel the heat of the moment radiating off our skin, until finally, Chan grabs hold of the back of my neck, pulling me to crash against his lips in a hungry kiss. 

It's nothing soft, or tender, its starved and greedy. His hands make their way over the sides of my thighs, pulling me across his lap so I can straddle his bulky thighs. Its then that I feel the true effects of the alcohol, his growing bulge poking my dripping core, teasing my entrance for what awaits the evening. 

I can feel his bare fingertips trace circles along my skin; his touch is so gentle compared to his kiss. His tongue demands entrance, licking past my lips, making my head spin, and the way he moves his plump lips would make any sensible women drop their panties. 

My hands grab hold of his shirt, trying to pry it off, but when I try to disconnect our lips, he just chases my lips, trying to reconnect us. I push his body to the back of the couch and watch as his eyes grow even darker than before. I lick and bite my lower lip and that seems to be the end of the line for Chan; with his big hands, he grabs the underside of my thighs, lifting me up along with himself. He carries me to a secluded room with a massive bed. 

He throws me across the mattress, letting my back settle into the cushions, but not for long because within less than a minute, he flips me over like I weigh nothing, and his hands immediately palm my ass. His hands grab the rim of my dress, throwing it over my ass enough where he has access. I fist the sheets and press my thighs together, feeling how much arousal has already pooled in my panties. 

Suddenly, I felt Chan’s front press against my back. I don’t know when he did it, but I feel the warmth of his bare chest covering my back. Even through the sheer fabric of the dress, I can feel his warm, bare body. “I can be a gentleman, or I can be a madman. Which do you want?”

His words make me moan, and my mind races with what other man I could see tonight. I think about how Chan could be a gentleman, treating me kindly while he fucks me nice a slow, claiming me like I’m his prey. But then a part of me, a deeper, hornier part of me, the pit of my belly burns with the need to see the madness in Chan. The side of him that shows no bounds, that could fuck me into tomorrow without warning. 

“Show me your wild side,” I smirk, letting my body buzz with excitement.

I feel the growl in his chest and pull the fabric from his teeth. His fingers trail up to the zipper of the dress, pulling it all the way down until most of my back shows. I let my arms slip through the holes, and he pulls it down until it's bunched up at my hips. 

The next thing he does is tear my panties apart, shredding the garment and tossing it to the side. I squirm in the sheets making him groan as I wiggle my ass in the air.  

He palms my ass hard enough that I’m sure it will leave marks in the morning. I can feel his finger tracing along the slit of my glistening pussy, playing with my folds, before finally I feel the stretch of a single girthy finger enter pass my fold. I moan at the feeling of the slight stretch; it's not the burning stretch my body craved, but I’ll take anything at this point. 

“Fuck this pussy is so greedy, look at your cunt sucking my finger in” he continues to pump his finger slowly into, spreading my wetness all around my folds, making my body squirm more. He harshly grabs hold of my hip with his other hand, his finger still holding place inside me. “You’ll take what I fucking give you” 

His harsh words only send sparks throughout my body, doing nothing but heat up the desire bubbling inside me. “more,” I whine out, rocking my ass against his finger, trying to get more friction. 

“More?” he questions, leaning in to kiss my left asscheek. “Say please” he growls against my skin. 

“Please” 

“Good girl,” without warning, he adds another finger past my folds and starts pumping both with no mercy, making my whole body shake. 

I scream as I feel my insides tremble from the cheer power Chan holds in one hand. Its in mere seconds that my body is shaking with my first orgasm of the night, but he doesn’t stop until I’m squirting, making a mess against his skin. I can feel the small feather lgght kiss against my ass, just like before, when he removes his fingers, letting my body squirm as it pleases. 

“Your so goddamn beautiful,” he growls. My body flops right side up, letting my back spress against the mattress. But I’m only allowed two breaths before Chan seizes our lips together, his hard member poking in between my thighs.I could sense his growing impatience, the way his teasing touch ignited a fire within me. Yet, beneath that playful exterior, I knew he was battling his own inner turmoil, wrestling with desire and frustration. The tension hung thick in the air, a delicious mix of longing and urgency that only drew us closer.

I slide my hand down to feel the smooth skin of his length and start pumping the coat of precum around his angry tip. He pulls away, but not before biting my lip and sucking in a breath. “Fuck” he breathes. 

“Me” I whisper back. 

~~~~~

Fuck, you are so tight around him. Even when your dripping cunt soaks him, he still feels your tight grip. Tight enough to feel like a warm vise wrapped around his cock, and oh did it feel good.

He slides his hand to your hip, holding you in place and ensuring you won't squirm away. "Don't tense up, I won't be able to last." He grits out between his teeth.

"I won't," you hiss out as he sinks another inch past your wet folds. "fuck your so big"

Chan couldn't help but puff his chest at your words. "Too big?" Was it wrong that your words turned him on more?

"no. give me more," you moan out.......no, no, it was not.

He wanted to take things slow, inching further into you so you could easily take all of him, but you just haaad to say the magic words.

he ventures in another inch or two and sighs as he hears your moans of approval. then he slips out to the tip, coating himself in your slickness before shunting his hips forward, hitting a deeper part of you that sends you gasping for air.

Fuck, you were so tight. He shut his eyes as he felt you spasming around his length. "m-more," you grunted. Barely holding yourself up.

"you don't know what your asking for" 

"yes I do, I can feel you holding back" he knew it too. He wasn't one to brag, but he knew how big he was, and from the way he so badly wanted you, it was taking every bit of willpower in him not to pound into you like some uncaged beast.

"I need to take my time, or else I might hurt you," he breathed out.

"I don't care if it hurts. I need you. Now, please." Your wines were like music to his ears. A hidden melody that he didn't know he needed.

He slowly eased out of your pussy, relishing on how your walls clung to him and how the slickness felt like butter. "fuck I need this pussy" he voiced his thoughts.

"then fucking take it. Claim it. Take me"

That was it. That was the last straw. Chan shifted your angle, taking your arms in his and using it as leverage to fuck into you. Chan's hips snapped forward, meeting your shaking form at tenfold.

all thoughts of what could hurt you were clouded by lust as more wetness coated the space between your bodies. Your hips bucked against his, and meeting his thrust sent shockwaves of more pleasure through you.

It was rough. It was wild. It was precisely what you needed and wanted at the same time. You asked him to claim you, and by goddamn it, he was going to make sure he was imprinted so deep inside you that you couldn't take any cock but his for the rest of your life.

You didn't have to worry about laying any claim on Chan. He was yours even before you started your walks. He was yours when he saw who you are. You already owned him, mind, body, and soul. The cherry on top was that each thrust of his hips sent another moan echoing around the room that tightened your hold on him.

He leaned back just enough to see what he was doing to you. he could see the way his dick disappeared into your tight pussy. "tell me you on the pill," he practically whined.

"yes, don't pull out."

He could feel you tightening around him, and he wasn't far behind. The feeling of his balls fighting the urge to finally release the pent-up tightness became painful.

He let one of your arms go to balance yourself as he snuck in below the both of you and down to pinch your clit between his fingers. That in itself sent you screaming, sobbing, begging, your tight cunt gripping his length so hard he could barely keep thrusting in and out of you.

That was his official undoing. He let go. Unloading inside you and releasing a sigh that sounded like waves crashing on the beach.

He stayed there for a moment, letting both your orgasms settle in before either of you said another word.

Once the heat of the moment settled and he slipped out of you. 

 he watched his cum drip out, and he won't deny it made his cock twitch.

"Jesus Christ, you should see how beautiful you look right now" he says under his breath.

"I think I'll take your word for it," and just like that, he found your whole body flattened against the bed, basically passed out.

"you okay?" he says, half jokingly, half worried. you just hold up an easy thumbs up before closing your eyes and letting sleep take over.

Chan laughs to himself and carries you to lean against the pillows the right way, and maneuvers you under the covers. He'll clean you up in the morning.

He slips in beside you, giving you a small kiss and whispering goodnight to you. You hum. Content and warm, and drawn to that same warmth, you cuddle up into Chan's side.

"We are going to have so much fun together."

*******

AN: I'm making so many Chan fics lately that I almost feel bad. But if yall want to see a specific member please let me know I'm more than happy to fulfill comments/asks/ etc!! love yall.

p.s/ also I'm not sure if yall know this but I make all the banners on my page including the small ones on my ko-fi. I only say this because I had an ask earlier asking about where I get my banners or where I go to find these photos, the photos I take from google but all the color, wording, fonts, etc I make myself !! 

[tastefuleternallove]

hey! i hope you’re having a good new year! i didn’t have the best holiday season, so i was just wondering if you could do joe quinn x reader on christmas or new years? or if possible reader with seasonal depression?

Loved

Joe Quinn x Reader

Summary: your boyfriend has immense amount of love for you

Warnings: fluff / angst, mentions of depression, does not say what holiday is being celebrated or the gender of reader.

Note: i’m so sorry to you and to anyone who had a rough holiday season, i did aswell and i would’ve killed for someone to say these things to me over the past few weeks. Hope the rest of everyone’s year is filled with love ❤️

NONE OF THIS IS PROOF READ IM LAZY

The holiday season was always hard for you, every year you find yourself sitting in your bed scrolling on your phone looking at everyone’s holiday pictures. Reminding you that your behind everyone in life, but also too ahead in the same way. However this year was different, you had joe. He’s the light of your life and the best thing that’s ever happend to you.

But over the holiday season you couldn’t scratch the feeling that you’ve been ruining it for him. The holidays were his favourite time of year and you haven’t exactly had time to share with him how you feel about this time of year. It wasn’t his fault, you just care for him so much. Going to every event, every dinner, every party with a smile plastered on your face hoping to not ruin this moment for your boyfirend

You felt like you were hiding it nicely, never stopping a smile, starting conversations with people, and playing the perfect part. But your boyfriend could see straight through your facade, every time you would slowly dissociate yourself when people would start talking about certain things. his heart ached at the sight of this but he wasint exactly sure how to have this conversation, he didint want you to fully shut him out but he also wanted you to know he cared for you and wanted to help you.

it was new year’s eve and you were getting ready to go to one of joe’s friends party. ask you looked at yourself in the mirror you feslt the exhaustion that crept up onto you from the season, feeling drained and in need of laying down. But on queue Joseph walked into the room, you straightened your posture out and went back to clasping your necklace. Joe knew right when he walked in you weren’t okay, and today was the day he would say something.

“Sweetheart, can you come sit on the bed with me” he said softly, you took note of how he hadn’t started getting ready. “i need you to know that i care about you and that you are in such a safe space when your with me right?” he said with almost a worried look. “yeah of course babe”. you said with a smile, but he couldint shake the feeling thag more was going on. “How about me and you just spend new years together, we can relax, do anything you want and just spend time with eachother, no one else no distractions”. “what! no” you said with almost a fear in your eyes. joseph gave a confused look trying to see i side your mind.

this is something your boyfriend wanted something important to him, but now that you aren’t going to his friends party their all gonna think that it’s your fault because if it wasint for you joseph wouldint come. Your chin quivered quick as you shit your head down releasing everything in a huge eruption. tears streaming down your face as you let every emotion from the past couple of weeks consume you. Your boyfriends heart shattered at the sight of this, because he didint know what was happening or how to get you to tell him. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest, trying to make you feel grounded so you knew he wasint going anywhere

He rubbed your back in small patterns and tried to steady your breathing. “look at me” you glanced up at his freshly shaven smooth face. “It’s not your fault, you can’t control how you feel during this time of year and it’s selfish of me that i didn’t say anything sooner about how you’ve been feeling. That’s why i suggested about tonight, spending the new year with my amazing partner, i couldn’t ask for a more amazing person that i get to share my life with, your always there every step of the way and you must know that you are what leads me to every step of my life. Everything is for you and i love you with everything in me”.

You looked at him in awe, he cared, he listened , your worries of showing your true emotions melted away as you truly realized how important and loved this man made you feel. He placed his tender hands on your cheek and gave you a soft kiss on your forehead and continued to keep rocking you back and forth, easing you out from your stress.

[revelboo]

Any updates with swindles unfortunate human? I'm still utterly laughing at the improvised "I will lay eggs in you" lie sjdndjdnf

They’re trying to reach an agreement. 18+

Hangman Pt 2

Swindle x Reader

• “What do you mean ‘no?’ Babe, I’m trying to make you a star. Rich and famous.” And himself even richer. Swindle bites back a growl at your little scowl. “Not just Earth famous, intergalactic.” Reaching he tips your chin up with a servo, offering you his best smile. “I can do that for you, but you gotta help me.” Dangling the outfit from the servos of his other hand, he watches you fold your arms. “Would I lie to you, babe?”

• Almost positive he would, you scrunch your nose at him and that ridiculous bit of lace he wants you to wear. Pretty sure that it’s not going to actually cover anything, but also that that’s the point. You’ve seen those fuzzy videos he’s peddling. What he wants is live entertainment. Mainly you. Wearing that. “Yes, you would,” you mutter, but really? It’s not like you have a lot of choice but to go along with it. At least he’s only wanting to record you, not trying to pimp you out to aliens. It definitely could be worse. And he’s not hurt you so far.

• “Such cruelty and after all I’ve done for you? Don’t I feed you? Provide you with lovely things?” Turning, he digs in a bin and comes up with a fistful of jewelry. Watches the hungry way you stare at the gold and glitter. Depositing it near you, he pulls a plush fur coat out of another bin and adds it to his pile of bribes. “Help me out here, babe.” Because you’re his ticket to more shanix than he’d ever imagined. Already has so many patrons on his waiting list eager to see a human in detail.

• Holding up a finger, you crush the luxurious softness of the coat in your fingers. While you don’t really care for fur, it’s warm and probably cost more than your first car. “I’m not fucking any aliens,” you say, chin lifting. “I’m only doing videos.” And he’s turning and walking away to grab a much smaller bin and carrying it over. Suspicious now, you open it as soon as he sets it down. And inhale. “Why would you even have these?” Because this bin seems to have been stolen directly from an adult toy store. You know he’s a bit of a hoarder for anything he can even possibly sell later, but still. Holding up a sealed package, you’re not sure if you’re more horrified and amused.

• “You’re not the only species with a valve, babe,” he says laughing at your expression. “Or the only ones that interface for fun.” Leaning on the desk you’re on, he uses the end of a servo to carefully brush your soft hair away from your face. “You get to play to your little heart’s content, I record it and we both get rich. What do you say? We have a deal?” Because you’re a commodity in high demand out here and he’s the only one with the goods. Again offering you the skimpy little outfit, he watches your shoulders slump as you snatch it from him.

• Crotchless panties. Sheer lace and a feather boa. Eyes closing as you try to gather your strength, you blow out a breath. It’s not like anyone you know is ever going to see this garbage. Or that you’ll ever see them again. This is your life now, just a new possession in Swindle’s hoard of contraband. And as long as you’re making him a profit, you’re not for sale, too. “How famous am I going to be?” You ask as he grins.

Previous

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Not a Word 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a life in hiding, away from your father and the world, until a man decides to drag you into the light. (non-verbal reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: Happy Monday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You can’t hear your father’s voice anymore. You stand at your door, listening for any sign of life. It’s not him you want to avoid, though he’s rarely happy to see you, but his company. You’re pretty sure they left but not entirely. You feel asleep working on your diamond art. 

You can’t wait much longer. You have to pee so bad that you can feel it in your throat. It’s late. You’re sure you’re alone. 

The door hinges scrape like they always do. You hate that noise. You tiptoe down the hall, towards the yellow blare of the kitchen light. You turn into the bathroom and shut the door. You sigh as finally you get your release. 

You flinch as you stand up and pull your elastic waistband over your hips. The hollow metal tink of a metal can sounds from outside. It could be your dad. That would make sense. He probably got up to get water or another can of beer. 

You wash your hands and go back out. You head towards your bedroom without a look in the other direction. The grizzly pronunciation of your name draws you back. Your eyes round as you scuff to a halt. 

You turn to face the burly man at the end of the hall. “Did I wake you?” Sy asks. 

You gulp and shake your head. He’s one of your dad’s coworkers from the shop. He comes over with a six-pack and they sit on the porch to enjoy it. Or they linger in the kitchen and play cards. 

As the shadows shroud him, he looks even bigger than usual. You’ve only ever seen him from a distance. Usually he’s sitting down. Maybe you just never noticed how gigantic he truly is. 

He flips on the hallway light and you blink. His dark beard adds to the squareness of his jaw and his shaved head has dark stubble in a deep peak on his forehead. His blue eyes sparkle despite his naturally fearsome posture. 

“I just got your daddy to bed,” he says. “He should be just fine. You check that he’s on his belly tomorrow morning.” 

You nod again. He does the same. He doesn’t appear frustrated as your father. He seems almost intrigued as he stays there, scratching above the collar of his tee. 

“You okay?” 

You nod. 

“Checkin’, ya know? It’s late. Dark can be scary, huh?” 

Yes, your head bobs in agreement. 

“Right, well, you have a good night. Let me know if ya need anything in the morning. I put my number on the fridge.” He taps on the door frame and turns away. 

Most of your dad’s friends or the same. They don’t pay you much mind. You prefer that. You’re not one for chatting. That fact irks your father to no end. You just stay out of his way, and his friends’, and hide in your room. 

You wait until you hear the front door. Then you go to lock it as Sy’s footsteps clamour on the porch. You stay there, his headlights shining through the window as his engine rumbles to life. The gravel crunches as he reverses out and steers off into the night. 

You go around and shut off the lights. You take your time in the kitchen tidying up the beer cans. You wipe the counters quickly and rinses the dregs off your fingers. You leave the light on so you can find your door. 

You shut yourself in and go back to bed. You leave the small lamp on next to it and turn your back to the glow. You yawn and close your eyes. 

Another night. It’s a bit sad that the best part of your day is going to sleep. Your waking hours aren’t very interesting. When you’re not doing the chores or the cooking, you’re in there, busying yourself with something meaningless. Nothing you do will ever make a difference; not for you or anyone else. 

That’s why your dad hates you so much. You can’t blame him. There’s no jobs out there for someone like you. You tried and all you got for it was embarrassment and a new slew of insults. 

You cross your arms over the top of the blankets and sigh. When you lay in your bed, you can be anything. Behind your eyelids, you can’t paint pictures more gleaming than those etched in the small plastic diamonds. You could be a princess or an actress or even just someone normal. 

What keeps you awake, isn’t your dreams. It’s the dread of the inevitable. Once you fall asleep, you’ll have to wake up again and face bitter reality. 

🩶

Your dad’s snoring rocks you through the walls. The house is small. You hear a lot more than you like. Often, you leave the old Casio radio playing on low to gloss over the cricks and cracks and groans. 

You get up, knowing better than to wait until he does first. If you have the coffee waiting, it will appease a fraction of his temper. With a hangover racking his skull, he won’t be in the best of moods. 

The dead heat of summer roils through the house. Your dad has an AC unit in his bedroom window but it’s not big enough to do much beyond his door. He keeps that closed most days anyways. On the cold days, he also keeps the small electric heater locked away with him. 

You change into a pair of loose linen capris and a plain tank top. You don’t go anywhere so you don’t dress for any occasion. Most of your clothes are akin to pajamas, or nothing more than. 

The machine is old and dingy. No matter how many times you descale it, it keeps that yellow stain in the plastic. You snap the lid shut and flip the red button so it lights up. Dad says once it stops turning on, he’ll waste money on a new one. 

You get yourself a glass of water and wait. It’s early still but his alarm won’t let him sleep in. As it goes off, you keep busy.  

There’s a slam and a grumble. Your dad stirs violently and his door hits the frame as he swings it open. He lumbers out as you pour him a mug. He belches and ignores you. You put it on the table as he turns down the hall and goes into the bathroom. He leaves the door open and you hear his stream piddle into the toilet. 

You ignore it and turn back to your task. Breakfast. It’s the same thing every day. You do his eggs, sunny side up, toasted Wonder bread, and six strips of bacon. The smell soon has your mouth watering. The chair scrapes the floor loudly as he drops into it heavily. 

He slurps loudly behind you as you put together his plate. You set it before him and he wiggles the empty mug at you. You take it and pour him another from the carafe. 

A car door snaps shut. You wince. You didn’t hear an engine, but you’d been too swept up in cooking. You give your dad his refill and go to check the front window. 

“Is it that mailman already?” He hollers. 

You shake your head, even knowing that he won’t see.  

“Don’t know why I fucking ask,” he snarls. 

You watch Sy jump out of his truck. While the axle is high, it isn’t very treacherous for a man his size. He kicks up gravel as he steps around the door and shuts it. You back away as he heads towards the house. 

He clomps up the steps, thump, thump, thump, and you jitter as he approaches the other side of the door. You wait until he knocks before you answer it. You peek out through a single inch of space. He grins. You don’t think he’s ever smiled at you. You assumed he never did at all. 

“How’s the old man?” He asks. 

You blink and let the door open a bit more and give thumbs up. As good as he’ll ever be.  

“That’s good,” he drawls. “So...” 

His eyes drift down, just a little. You squirm. Your shirt feels thinner as you stand there. Your nipple poke into the fabric and you hug yourself awkwardly. You remember you asked your father for a bra once. He laughed and you never brought it up again. You try to stick to loose clothing. 

You point over your shoulder then make a gesture as if you’re holding a fork and scooping. 

“Having breakfast, that’s nice.” 

You don’t have enough for him. You’ll wait until your dad’s at work before you sit and have your single slice of toast and peanut butter. 

“I already ate, in case ya worried,” he assures. “Was just comin’ to make sure I didn’t give him too much sauce.” 

He laughs. His booming humour makes your flinch. Your brows pop up and he quiets. 

“Sorry, I know, I’m a loud one, huh?” He snorts, “I don’t mean ta scare ya.” 

“I told ya, she don’t say shit,” your father growls into a yawn. You step back and the door opens all the way as you press yourself to the wall. He saunters forward in his boxers and tank top. “No point goin’ on like that when she probably don’t even understand.” 

“She understands me,” Sy avows confidently. “After a night with your drunk ass, it’s a breath of fresh air to have someone not yammer on.” 

“You’re the one brought me the piss,” your father retorts. 

“And you didn’t complain when I did,” he counters. “Wanted to see if ya were going to make it in today. Just in case I gotta finish up Dubeau’s clunker.” 

“I’ll be there,” your father sneers. “Why don’t you go and get it all warmed up for me?” 

“You’re a prick, Don,” Sy huffs. 

“What? No, you can’t see it,” your father covers his crotch and you blanch, looking away embarrassed. 

“Don,” Sy rebukes, “there’s a lady.” 

“It’s my daughter, dammit. She’s too stupid to get it,” he spits. “Hey, you, go on, kitchen’s a mess.” 

You nod and avoid looking at the other man out of embarrassment. Your father is crass, sometimes even at your expense. And he knows you can understand him. He must. You do everything he tells you too. 

“Well, then, I’ll see ya round,” Sy calls, though you only realise he’s talking to you as your dad changes the subject to some tail pipe. 

You stop and peek back. Sy watches you over your dad’s head. You give a wave, just a tilt of your hand, then continue into the kitchen. 

You can’t help but be thankful for the interruption. Sy’s boisterous intrusion offered a buffer between you and your dad’s hangover. You wash his plate, cutlery, and mug, before you move onto the pots and pans you used to cook. 

You can hear your dad barking outside at Sy. The other man responds with a deep rumble. Are they arguing? 

The front door swings open, “hey, girl,” you dad whistles, “more coffee. Bring some for this lump.” 

You take the order in stride. You don’t have enough for two cups, maybe half of one. You start a new pot and wait. When it’s finished, you dry your dad’s mug and pull out another. You carry both to the front door and elbow through. 

You hand one to each man as they stand by the porch railing. Your dad takes his gruffly, spilling some on your fingers, but Sy thanks you. 

“You didn’t even ask if he wanted sugar or cream,” your dad chides. You give him a startled look. He snorts. “How’d ya do that, huh? Maybe blink your eyes real big.” 

You frown at his mocking. Sy exhales and you back away. Now you have two men annoyed with you. You glance over at the bigger of the pair as he stares at you. You should’ve thought of you. Coffee is bitter, it’s why you don’t drink it. 

You point to his cup and he shakes his head, “coffee’s fine,” he insists, “I’ll have something sweet later.” You nod and retreat. You turn your back to them and step inside. Before you close the door, you hear Sy, “you know I take my coffee black, Don. No needa to give the girl a hard time.” 

You shut it before you can catch whatever snide remark your father tosses back. You know he won’t take kindly to being told what to do, especially if it’s to do with you. Or because of you. You’ll hear it all later, you’re sure. 

[siggiedraws]

I like your essay but does it really irk you if Sonic is Ever portrayed differently even somewhat in other media? He can still have great character even if it doesn't always fit your ideal for it

Thank you, I'm glad you like my essay! My response to this will be quite long-winded, so bear with me.

I am not oblivious to how irrational it may come across for me to essentially admit I dislike all different interpretations of Sonic. But personally speaking, if I am to be completely honest with myself, yes, it does irk me. Their differences almost always compromise Sonic’s appeal, making them unlikeable to me.

My question is, if you are going to remove what makes pre-existing material so special in an adaptation, why is it even an adaptation of pre-existing material? This is a rhetorical question; I know the answer is purely due to cynical marketability reasons. Media is almost guaranteed to generate money if it features a popular, recognizable character. For obvious reasons, I do not think prioritizing marketability over artistic integrity is a good thing that should be defended or encouraged.

My argument is simple: Is it possible for a different interpretation of Sonic to be a good character? Sure, in a vacuum. You can replace any beloved character in fiction with Sonic instead by doing nothing but slapping some blue spikes on it and calling it a day.

My issue is that wouldn't make it a good interpretation of Sonic the Hedgehog because there is no reason for it to be Sonic.

I feel that now is a good time to finally talk about this.

My wariness of divergences in Sonic adaptations, is in part, based in the knowledge that the people at Sonic Team had their creative vision completely disrespected and dismissed overseas.

(SOURCE) - Yasushi Yamaguchi's Twitter

(SOURCE) - Masato Nishimura's Twitter

(SOURCE)

(SOURCE)

(SOURCE)

Sonic Team had no say or power in how Sonic was depicted in the U.S. In some cases, they had no idea that changes were even made until they were told by someone.

There is this distinct sense of cultural superiority coming from Sega of America. Did you know that Sega of America considered Sonic's design "unsalvageable" and insisted it needed to be changed? Did you know that Sega of America tried to "educate" Sega of Japan at character design because they saw them as incompetent at designing good characters?

(SOURCE)

Yes, this is primarily about Sonic's design being "too Japanese." This is corroborated in Sonic the Hedgehog Gametap Retrospective.

As an artist, it is really devastating to hear this story. Putting myself in Sonic Team's shoes yields nothing but sorrow. This flagrant disrespect towards artists' creative visions is odious to me.

Now compound this with the fact that Sonic has had a consistent lack of fidelity in adaptations since he was created, especially in the West, and I hope you can see my perspective here.

To go back to my initial topic on Sonic's characterization, I think that my position can come across unreasonable if you are a person who does not feel particularly strongly one way or another about it. It is completely fine to feel this way. Everyone can enjoy media however they please. For the vast majority of media I consume, I do not pay nearly as much attention and devotion to character consistency.

Sonic is different.

Sonic as a character is extremely important to me. He has gotten me through many hard times in my life and he continues to endlessly inspire me. Whenever I am faced with a tough situation, I hear Sonic’s voice in my head, encouraging me to be strong. Encouraging me to do my best. Encouraging me to keep living. Sonic is my favourite fictional character of all time. He means so much to me that it’s impossible to put into words.

I don’t want to get too emotional here, but I believe that a character like Sonic should continue to propagate and stay culturally relevant because I think kids nowadays really deserve a character like that in their lives. How he is characterized and used in the narrative in Sonic media really matters. There are Tailses in the world who need to learn how to be confident. There are Blazes in the world who need to learn how to accept help. There are Elises in the world who need to learn to let go of the responsibilities that burden them. There are Shahras in the world who struggle from having been in abusive relationships. And there are Merlinas in the world who are afraid of death. These people would benefit from a positive figure to guide them out of dark places.

My feelings about Sonic are far from an anomaly. See an excerpt from this artwork by sludgetoons, in response to this video essay:

"This one fucking video finally has made me realize WHAT Sonic is to me. he's my hero he's my inspiration hell hes a role model yes but none of those terms ever felt right to place onto this character that is so beautifully painted to be this characters free from the shackles of humanity and a need to be "relatable". He's not a hero or a role model, hes a DIRECTION. Sonic himself is an impossible goal to reach as a person, but just trying to live my life in a way that is free, appreciating the world that is around me, exploring and climbing and running and rebelling, lending a hand where I can but understanding ultimately im free to do as I please and I owe no one anything as they owe me nothing. as long as i am FOLLOWING him in those big footprints those red sneakers leave I am becoming a better version of myself. The goal is not to become Sonic, that's impossible. But by ignoring that impossibility and pushing on anyways I still WONT become Sonic. but I'll inadvertently become this better version of myself.

There's no way I can explain it properly how much this character means to me. When I picked up the pencil to draw for the first time it was because I thought he looked cool and inspired me and I wanted to replicate that magic. When I was feeling trapped in my past relationship and thought I had no say in what was happening to me his voice was in my head telling me this wasn't right and that "I could do anything". Start of 2024 I found myself asking "what would sonic do" more often than ever and 2024 was the best year of my entire fucking life. I couldn't give a fuck if it makes me seem insane he made who who I am and I love myself and I hope someday somehow, in another time or space, I can meet him just to say thank you."

This is just someone spilling their heart out on the internet about how much they love Sonic. It has over 9,000 likes at the time of this post.

I do not like different interpretations of Sonic.

None of them inspire power in others quite like this.

[mads-hemmo]

It’s Nice to Have a Friend - Jschlatt

Part 2

Reader has been lonely their whole life. They have never been in a relationship. They don’t understand why no one will love them but their best friend, Schlatt has always been in love with them.

Part 1

Part 3

Schlatt remembers the day he met you like it was yesterday. He started at a middle school away from most of the friends he had in elementary school. This meant that he didn’t have any friends, but he did his best to not let it affect him. One day at lunch time, he sat by himself as he had for the past two weeks. Then out of nowhere, this kid came and sat by him. “Hi I’m (Y/N), you’re Jonathon right?” You had asked.

He just nods. He had seen you in class before. He was really curious as to why you were sitting by him while everyone else had left him alone.

“Cool. Nice shirt,” you tell him. He looks down at the Mario Kart shirt his mom had bought him from Target.

“Thanks,” he said. “Do you play?”

“Yeah, I play on the Wii and my DSi. I play as Peach. Not because she’s a girl, but because she’s cool. Also my little brother has taken over Yoshi.”

From that moment, you and Schlatt became best friends. You were even the one who came up with the nickname, Schlatt. His nicknames for you changed over the years but it ultimately landed on Bub/Bubba and Toots. The latter started as a joke but it stuck.

Schlatt has been with you for every phase of your teenage life: the one direction phase that he thinks never went away, your “emo” phase, your trying to fit in phase, and your party college phase. While many people found you to be completely ridiculous and sometimes over the top, Schlatt stuck by your side. He knew they didn’t get to see the real you. The one who likes playing video games and watching shitty musicals.

You were also with him through everything. You were there when he started making videos and you became his first subscriber. Neither of you imagined that he would blow up the way he did. When he started streaming on Twitch, the both of you knew something big was about to happen especially after SMPlive. He always talked to you first to flesh out ideas on the Dream SMP during his presidential reign.

Schlatt was always appreciative of how supportive you were with everything he did. He loved having someone who wasn’t attached to anything online. Someone who didn’t care how much money he made or how famous he got. Maybe that’s why he started developing feelings for you.

It wasn't always a thing. Perhaps the feelings were always there, but he hadn’t really noticed them until a few years ago. Back in High School, when you complained about being single, he had wondered why no one wanted to be with you. You were real, funny, and attractive. But he always made sure to assure you that everyone you went to school with sucked and were all fucking stupid anyways.

The feelings really started making themself evident when he moved to Austin. He had surrounded himself with just content creators and was working all the time. When he was extra stressed, Schlatt would call you on Discord. No matter what you were doing, you stopped everything to simply talk and play games with him.

“Don’t you have midterms?” he would ask while you created a house on Minecraft.

“Yeah, but they can wait. I feel confident that I’ll pass them. If I don’t, I’ll just sell pictures of my feet until I can afford to start again,” you tell him.

He smiles to himself. Something about how normal you are makes his heart skip a beat. You could have brought up the money he makes but no you resorted to talking about selling pictures of your feet. “Your feet are ugly. Don’t think they would make you much profit.”

Conversations like these made him realize that he had to leave the hell hole of Austin and move back to New York. Back to you. Now he felt happy again getting to spend as much time with you as possible.

His crush was so embarrassing that all his online friends know about you. They also make a point to bring it up when he’s not filming. “How’s your partner, Schlatt?” Astro asks, before they start filing for Sleep Deprived.

“They aren’t my partner,” Schlatt says.

“Not yet,” Mika adds.

Schlatt sighs. He knows you’ll never feel the same way about him that he feels for you. He’s not the Jonathan you want. He’s not Jonathan Groff or Jonathan Bailey. He’s just Schlatt, your best friend, nothing else.

Schlatt decides to ignore his feelings and just play Stardew Valley. While playing, he sees that you sent him a snap. It’s just a picture of you holding a Rammie plushie with the caption, “my new best friend because mine is busy working like a loser.”

He smiles like a loser at his phone and takes a screenshot. It takes everything in him to not tell you how cute you are. Instead he sends a photo of his forehead with a simple, “fuck you”.

Schlatt’s attention goes back to the screen. “Who the fuck stole my Persian Rugs?” he asks, when his character wakes up.

After a few hours of recording, he decides to call you on Discord. You answer quickly. “Sup Fucker?” You say over the call. “You done working?”

“Yeah I just finished filming for Sleep Deprived. What are you up to?” Schlatt asks, happy to hear your voice.

“Currently playing Balatro then I’m going to work on crocheting a blanket. I’m also watching New Girl.”

He admired how talented you were. Always working on something new. He loved how creative you were in everything you did. “What watch of New Girl is this now?”

“I think 6, maybe 7. I’ve lost count. With every watch, you can tell how obvious that Jess and Nick are end game. Nick is so in love and Jess is oblivious. It’s hilarious. How could anyone be that stupid?” You laugh.

Schlatt lets out a choked laugh. “Yeah it’s crazy.”

“If I were to fancast Chuckle Sandwich for New Girl. Tucker is Winston because duh, Charlie is Coach since he was there at the beginning and shows up every now and then, Ted is Schidmt, and you’re Nick.”

“Oh is that so? Who’s Jess then?”

“Obviously I’m not a part of the crew, but probably me since she’s my spirit animal,” you tell him.

“That’s interesting,” he says, wondering if you noticed what you said. It’s obvious you didn’t make a connection.

“Oh did you see that Grace is engaged and Molly is pregnant?” You change the subject, not even meaning to.

“No I didn’t. I don’t follow anyone from high school anymore and I couldn’t care less.”

“That’s fair, but how do these bitches find their soulmate and make babies? It’s so ugh!”

“They will probably get a divorce in three years and I doubt the guys they are with are much better than them,” he says. He wishes you wouldn’t worry about people that don’t matter to either of you.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Did I tell you about my new friend, Paige from work?”

“No I don’t think you did. What about her?” He is confused why you are bringing up some random girl. He really hopes she’s not a new crush of yours. He couldn’t handle you crushing on a person you know.

“I think you should get to know her. I think the two of you would really hit it off. She played softball and she is just overall cool. I can give you her number.”

It’s worse than he thought. You weren’t into her, you thought he would be. This was a recurring thing that Schlatt despised every time it happens. He doesn’t want to go on a date with some random girl. He wants you, but he can’t let you know that. “Maybe. I’m still not really wanting to date. I want to focus on my career and the new projects I’m working on,” Schlatt tells you. It’s not a complete lie, but it’s not the complete truth either. If he was going on a date with you, it’d be a different story.

“Oh okay. I told her you were a busy guy. She just sounded like someone you’d be into.”

He can tell he made you slightly upset and that’s his least favorite thing to do. “Thank you for thinking of me, Bub,” he tells you. “What are your plans tonight?”

“I’m not sure yet. Just crafting probably. Did you have something in mind?” You ask.

He didn’t have any plans, but he wanted to spend time with you. Being away from you, made him want to hang out with you as much as possible. Even if it was as simple as watching a movie or playing with the cats. He sometimes imagines the two of you living together. Getting to spend as much time as possible doing the most mundane things would make him so happy.

“I can order some sushi and we can do that coloring thing you told me about,” he says, hoping you’d be down to come over.

“Sure. When should I come by? Do I need to bring my pajamas?” You ask.

“Uh sure if you want to stay over. We both know you’ll be in leggings or shorts though, so you might not need them.”

“Good point. If anything I’ll steal some of your clothes,” you tell him, nonchalantly.

Schlatt feels a lump in his throat thinking of how big his clothes would be on you. You’d probably suffocate in them, but he’s sure you’d look damn cute. “Yeah, sure,” He stammers out. “I’m done working so come by whenever.”

“Alright see you soon.” You hang up before he can say anything else.

Schlatt starts feeling giddy like a little girl waiting for your arrival. He starts picking up what he can. He checks himself out in the mirror, fluffing up his hair a bit. He applies a little bit of cologne. When he goes back to the living room, he sees Jambo judging him. “I’m a fucking disaster. Aren’t I?”

Jambo just meows in agreement. Schlatt sighs, he wonders how long he can unrequitely love you. He’s sure it’s going to kill him before he confesses. He knows that it will be best to just wallow in his self pity instead of fucking up your friendship.

A doorbell ringing interrupts him. He trips on his way to opening the door. When he opens it, he expects to see your pretty face, but that’s not who’s on the other side. “Surprise,” Ted says on the other side of the door.

Schlatt just stares at him in disbelief. He sees you walk behind them. “Am I interrupting something?” You ask.

“The infamous (Y/N), I’ve heard so much about you!”

Schlatt knew in that moment that he was royally fucked.

A/N: another late night post! But I can’t stop writing. I’m going to be so sad next week when I have to go back to work. Reader is general neutral, but I may add some fem! stuff. Also the ending just popped in my brain last minute! Hope you all enjoy!! Thanks for reading!!

[the-lazyyy-artist]

i saw you in a dream a two-part Karasu Tabito x Filipina!reader story part one

Synopsis: The Japanese Occupation was far kinder than you expected, especially in his eyes.

Word Count: 19.1k

Content Warning: historical au (based in the Philippines), talks about the Japanese Occupation in the Philippines, glimpses of the events during World War 2, love despite the war, angst

Author's Notes: I tried to be as mild as I could with the information of the war, as well as the reader's situation. Based on my research, some families were exempted from the horrors. I tried to be as clear as possible with the story too, so if you have any notes after reading, please let me know thru the comments, reblogs, asks, or DMs! I would love to discuss things with you guys!

@fishii28 ✨

"We have to do this," your father iterated once more as he paced across the living room in anxiety, "It's for the safety of our family, Y/n, the safety of your sisters and your mother... most especially you. You're our eldest daughter, you have to understand."

"Compliance? For safety? How is that even a good thing, Papa? These Japanese are... massacring the country, our city! The best we can do is fight back!" You reasoned out, your voice raising in frustration. Of all people in the world, you would never expect your father to bend the knee to the colonizers. Sure, his allegiance is to the Americans, who also colonized your country after the Spanish did the same, but he held hope that they would be saved by them. For now, he has to think of the best way for his family to be safe, especially with the news going around about the abuses against women. He couldn't bear to live the rest of his life thinking that the women in his family would be facing the same fate as everyone, so compliance with the Japanese was the best option.

"My dearest, please. I don't want you to be..." he sniffled and lowered his head, then he cried in anguish. "I don't want to endanger all of you. The situation is hard, I understand that, but the best way for us to be safe is to side with them. Despite the crimes they're committing to our country and the people, we need to be safe. Think of yourself, Y/n. Think of your mother and your sisters. They're still so young." He walked towards you and pulled you into a hug, the tightest he had given you. "I love our country. You know that out of everyone. But right now, my love for my family overcomes that."

Two weeks later, a Japanese General, accompanied by his Lieutenant General, entered your home and had a written agreement with them, officially making your family untouchable from the atrocities of the war. You listened to their conversation from your room, peeking through the crack of your door. It was a surprise that the General had some English skills, which you then figured that maybe they had to learn for the invasion. From what you have gathered in their conversation, they have laid out some privileges for the family: you'll sustain your way of life and be exempted from the abuses, forced labor, and serve as entertainment for the soldiers.

That was good enough, you thought.

You then heard a cry from the other room. Your youngest sister's voice can be heard through the walls, and unfortunately, throughout the house. You saw the General and Lieutenant General perk up as soon as her cries spilled out. Your parents' bedroom door flew open, and out went your sister, crying for your father. "Maria!" You exclaimed, bursting out of your room to grab her before she could even reach the living room. You carried her in your arms despite her protests, but your eyes landed on the guests, specifically the Lieutenant General. He was about your age, a little stern at first glance. His blue eyes met yours, full of curiosity and a tinge of annoyance from the disturbance. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you said as you walked away, carrying your crying sister back to your parents' room, closing the door behind you.

A few moments have passed, and you heard the bedroom door open, revealing your father, looking more distraught than he should be. He looked at you with apologetic eyes, and your stomach flipped at the sight. "What did you do, Papa?" you asked, your voice anxious and breaking.

"I'm sorry, my dearest. It had to be done."

Lieutenant General Karasu Tabito became a frequent visitor to your home. The reason? He became interested in you despite your short presence that day, thanks to your good-for-nothing sister. You're forced to face him every day with soft fake smiles that never reached your eyes. You try your best to be kind, at least just for the facade, so your family would be safer. You try your best to entertain his stories, all interesting and questionable. You try to respond accordingly, just as how your mother trained you all these years when the time comes for suitors to arrive at your doorstep.

Karasu was nothing but patient and kind, though sometimes, his eyes gave it away. He would sometimes look like he was analyzing you, the way you move, the way you speak, the way you laugh. Then one day, he said, "You're faking." That caught you a little off-guard. You cleared your throat and shifted in your seat, pulling your skirt down your knees. "I beg your pardon?" you replied.

"I don't like the way you're faking your interactions with me."

Like any other person in this time of war, hearing that would feel like a death sentence, especially with the situation your family was in. You, acting like their sacrificial lamb to this Japanese soldier, and him, a wolf. You smiled at him and shook your head. "I don't think I understand."

"Y/n, I know you feel forced to talk to me almost every day. But I want to let you know that I'm not like anyone out there. I don't agree with what they're doing, and I would..."

"You would?"

"If there wasn't a war, things like taking an interest in knowing you better wouldn't be that hard. Because I want to know you more and take you as my wife," he continued, his eyes full of honesty.

It took a year before you agreed to marry him, which your father was more than enthusiastic about. For him, it meant that your alliance and complacency with the Japanese colonizers were now set in stone and that your family would be forever safe from the horrors you read from underground newspapers that often arrive on your doorstep. You made sure Karasu never found any of it every time he visited your home before the marriage.

Life with him was peaceful, or it seemed to be. You were away from all the noise, and Karasu ensured you would live as a married couple peacefully. Every morning, there was a routine of you two drinking coffee at the dining table, him reading the newspaper, Japanese issued ones, and you humming a tune. It was lovely. Sometimes, he'd hold your hand as he drinks his coffee, and you'd smile at him.

Mornings also included helping him into his uniform every time he's being called to the office, ironing it to perfection. You'd help him button up his shirt, then hand him his hat, sometimes dusting it off before you do. "I'll be back soon," Karasu would say with a smile, and you'd respond, "Take care."

Your afternoons are spent tending the garden and listening to the vinyl records your father gave you as a wedding gift. They were pretty old, and you played them anyway. You'd sway alone in the living room until you grew tired. Then it was time to prepare dinner for you and your husband.

He'd consistently arrive home at 6:00 PM, leaving his boots by the doorway before he walked to you as you worked in the kitchen. He'd give you a chaste kiss on your temple, whispering, "I'm home." You're always glad whenever he comes home because it means things haven't gotten worse yet.

One night after dinner, while you were washing the dishes, humming a tune you heard from one of your records, you heard Karasu rummage through the same shelf of records in your living room. You weren't concerned, no. It's just he never once had an interest in your collection, yet here he was. Then you heard him put on one of the records to the record player you had in your home.

"Y/n," he called out, his feet padded on the wooded floor of your shared home, "dance with me." You looked at him over your shoulder, giving him a kind smile. "Just after this, Karasu."

He sighed as walked nearer to the sink where you were and turned off the faucet. You faced him with a slight disappointment on your features and he just smiled at you. He took a towel hanging from the drawer handles, and then wrapped your hands with it, drying them for you. "The dishes can wait. Please, dance with me." You could only nod and walk back with him to the living room as the scratchy music filled the living room. Karasu placed his hands on your hips as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, beginning to sway with him. "We never danced before," he stated in which you hummed in reply. "I think the war hasn't let us, Karasu."

He shushed you softly as he shook his head. "No mentions of war in this home, Y/n. I told you that before, remember?"

"Sorry."

"It's okay. No need to. I want us to live away from it, even if we have to pretend. Keep your mind away from it."

Karasu sighed shakily as he pulled you closer to him, embracing you. You can feel the tension radiating from him, so you rest your hand over his chest, feeling his heartbeat. "Karasu, what's wrong?"

"You've been calling me Karasu for the longest time. Maybe it's time for you to call me Tabito," he said, his voice low, ignoring your question. You nodded and spoke his name. It felt new on your tongue, but it sounds much better now that you won't be calling his, and your, last name. Tabito rested his forehead against yours as you two were engulfed by the silence of the night and the hum of your record player.

It wasn't long until that peace slowly faded as Tabito would spend more time away from your home.

He came home with news of a possible battle, one that was inevitable. He told you in great detail what Japan would do to defend the Philippines from the Americans, and it would be bloody. You listened to him intently, holding his shaking hands. Tabito warned you of two outcomes: either they will lose and leave the country, or Japan will continue their reign over the islands. If you were asked right now, you don't know what to feel. If you were still 2 years younger, you'd feel overjoyed about the liberation of your country. However, now that you've come to know Tabito, and eventually, loved him more than you imagined, Japan losing would mean him leaving you behind.

The news of Japan's surrender broke you.

The sight of Tabito running to you and apologizing broke you.

"I know I never told you this in our whole marriage but remember that I love you. I loved every moment with you, and I would trade everything to be with you," he cried as he cupped your wet cheeks. "I love you, I love you, Y/n."

He left the next day along with the other Japanese troops, leaving you in your once-shared home.

It's such a shame, others would say, that your Japanese husband left you without a child. That you were left alone with hopes of him returning to get you. That after 3 years, you ended up lying on your deathbed.

That your last words before you closed your eyes were his name.

A second part of this story will be posted soon, so keep an eye!

[sahisan]

nsfw. fem reader. cuddly chuuya for life <3 not proofread. might write an sfw ver now that im thinking about it.

chuuya who holds you as close as possible during sex.

chuuya loves cuddling during sex more than anything. it always starts with his hands all over you—holding you, hugging you, groping you; legs wrapped around your own or your middle, arms holding you close; lips either on yours, tongue slowly moving inside your mouth or littering your neck, shoulders and literally everywhere he can reach with kisses and lovebites.

and it doesn't even matter where—in bed, on the couch while watching another episode of a show, on the kitchen counter which he sat you up on while making breakfast on a day off (chuuya has self-control, a lot of it, actually, but it's needless to say the omelette was burnt), in his office at home (literally adores it when you cockwarm him while he deals with all these papers—can actually sit there for hours), hell, even in the shower where he always volunteers to hold you up while you wrap your legs around his waist.

chuuya doesn't like losing hold of you ever when you two make love, even if it's faint hand holding while he thrusts in and out of you, or holding your thighs apart while he eats you out or just simply pressing his face into the crook of your neck.

and oh, every time is so, so good.

like now, when he's fucking you from behind, arms wrapped around you like you're his lifebuoy, a hand on your breast and another on your lower abdomen, two fingers circling your clit. and it's a combo, even, of almost everything mentioned above—his face is nuzzled tight into the part between your neck and shoulder, breathing heavy with pants and grunts and whimpers leaving his mouth. he's so, so close, in every sense of the word—there's no space between you at all, not a single millimeter, and he's so close to coming he has to basically hold it in.

but chuuya just has to always make it even better.

it's when he hoists your upper body up from the bed and presses your back to his chest from this position as well that he starts reaching that particular spot inside you and oh, he moans in tandem with you when your moans get louder and you squeeze him tight enough to make him come on the spot. his fingers stutter slightly because of that but don't lose their rhythm on your clit and it's when he starts feeling like he's going to black out from how close he is that he starts mumbling "c'mon, baby, f—fuck, s' close— love you, love you, ah—" frantically while panting into the crook of your neck and fuck, is it the best orgasm he's had in years.

chuuya holds you with literally all his limbs for what feels like eternity after you both come. his hand is off your breast but instead both are now wrapped around your waist, his chest pressed to your back and he's pretty sure both of you are sweaty as hell but he just does not give a single shit. there might be stars in front of his eyes as he closes them, inhaling your scent and exhaling with thr sound of his loud heartbeat drumming in his ears. he doesn't dare pull out just yet—let him have it for a few moments—minutes—longer, please.

chuuya who falls asleep with his limbs intertwined with yours later on after—and every night—breathing evenly into the back of your neck, not daring to let go of your hand.

[earthlybeam]

Just some random headcanons i think that fit Legolas (my opinion) Request by @justaloserxx

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Legolas version below.

🍃𝓛𝓮𝓰𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓼

What's their love language? Legolas’ love language is a delicate, intimate expression of his deep connection with his significant other. He shows his affection through acts of service, quality time, and physical touch, each one reflecting his nature as an Elf—thoughtful, serene, and attuned to beauty and harmony.

Acts of Service as Legolas’ care for his partner goes beyond the typical gestures. He observes their needs and desires with an unmatched attention to detail. Whether it’s making sure their gear is well-maintained, creating a sheltered space to rest, or ensuring that they’re well-fed with the freshest fruits and herbs, he takes great pride in making their experience as peaceful and pleasant as possible. His love is often expressed in the quiet, everyday tasks that he performs without expecting anything in return. His gifts, too, are subtle but meaningful—an intricately carved wooden bracelet he made himself, a beautifully arranged bouquet of wildflowers he picked on a morning walk, or a rare, perfectly round stone he discovered during his travels that reminds him of their strength. To Legolas, these small offerings are intimate tokens of his affection.

Quality Time To Legolas, time with his partner is an irreplaceable treasure. He finds peace and connection in shared moments of silence, often leading them into tranquil settings where they can escape the chaos of the world. Whether nestled among the trees, gazing out over a sparkling river, or standing atop a high cliff watching the sun set, these moments away from the noise of battle or the daily grind are when he feels most connected. The lack of words in these moments doesn’t feel awkward for Legolas—it feels natural. He loves simply being in the presence of his partner, sharing in the beauty of the world together. Their presence is enough for him.

Physical Touch Although not one to display affection publicly, Legolas’ physical touch is tender and deliberate. A soft brush of fingers as they walk side by side, the warmth of his hand resting briefly on their back when comforting them, or a fleeting but meaningful touch on their arm when they’re near. His reserved nature means that he only shares deeper, more intimate physical affection in private, where he feels safe to be vulnerable. In moments of solitude, he may hold them close, offering gentle, lingering embraces that communicate his love without needing words. His kisses are always slow and deliberate, a soft brushing of lips, an expression of his deep and tender feelings. Legolas is not one to demand attention or grandiose gestures, but the way he expresses his love through actions speaks volumes. Every small gesture, every quiet moment, and every soft touch is his way of showing how much he values and cherishes his partner. For him, love is felt deeply in the smallest of acts, and it’s in these subtle ways that he reveals the depth of his affection.

How do they view their significant other? Are they the light in their life? Best friend? Savior, etc.? To Legolas, his significant other is not just a companion, but a profound presence in his long and often lonely life. He sees them as a source of strength, inspiration, and deep connection, and their relationship brings him a sense of joy and meaning that transcends the passing of time. His Light in the Darkness Having lived for thousands of years, Legolas has witnessed the destruction, pain, and sorrow that often accompany the passage of time. The world has changed, his people have faced endless struggles, and many of his friends and loved ones are gone. But his partner represents something different—a beacon of light in the midst of the shadows. They bring warmth to his heart, reminding him of the beauty in the mortal world, the fleeting but precious nature of life. Their laughter, kindness, and the simple joy they bring to even the darkest days rekindle his own hope. With them, Legolas is reminded that there is still good in the world, and that even amidst loss, love can thrive. His partner is the one who helps him find the beauty in moments he might otherwise overlook.

Best Friend and Confidant In his partner, Legolas finds not just love, but deep friendship. They are his closest confidant, the one person he trusts with his innermost thoughts, doubts, and fears. The unspoken bond between them allows Legolas to share even the things he rarely speaks of—his moments of doubt, the burdens of leadership, the heavy weight of the past. He admires their wisdom and often seeks their counsel when faced with difficult decisions, trusting their judgment above all others. The moments they share together, whether in conversation or in comfortable silence, are sacred to him. Their understanding and empathy offer him a sense of peace, and he finds solace in knowing that no matter the trials they face, they have each other.

A Partner in Adventure as Legolas has always thrived in the thrill of adventure, the challenge of battle, and the beauty of exploration. But with his partner by his side, those experiences take on new meaning. He delights in showing them the world as he sees it—the ancient forests, the vast mountain ranges, the quiet beauty of nature that few others truly appreciate. While his partner may not possess the same longevity or elven grace, Legolas admires their bravery, resilience, and willingness to learn and grow alongside him. He is proud of their courage, and he finds joy in helping them become stronger, guiding them through the challenges they face together. Their partnership is not just about survival—it’s about discovery, growth, and mutual respect. Together, they face the unknown, and that shared experience deepens their bond, strengthening their connection. For Legolas, his partner is not just someone he loves—they are an integral part of his life, his closest friend, and a constant reminder of the hope and beauty that still exists in the world, no matter how much darkness he has seen. They are both his light and his anchor, grounding him while also inspiring him to continue adventuring in this ever-changing world.

How do they act when falling out of love? When Legolas begins to fall out of love, his behavior shifts in subtle, almost imperceptible ways. His deeply ingrained sense of honor and respect for others, especially his partner, means that he would never be openly cruel or dismissive. Instead, he becomes quieter, withdrawing into himself, unsure of how to navigate the complexities of fading emotions. His actions may not be overtly harsh, but those closest to him will notice the change.

Guilt and Inner Conflict as Legolas’ elvish nature compels him to remain true to his emotions, and when those emotions begin to fade, he is struck by an intense sense of guilt. He knows that love is sacred and that his partner deserves someone who can fully return their affection. This causes a deep internal struggle, as he fights to reconcile the warmth he once felt with the growing distance he feels now. He cannot easily brush aside his feelings, and the conflict tears at him, even if he doesn’t show it. While he never intends to hurt his partner, the quiet shift in his demeanor and the absence of the once-present tenderness he showed them speaks volumes. His guilt prevents him from being as affectionate as before, and even simple gestures of love—like brushing their hair from their face or offering a comforting touch—become increasingly rare.

Reluctance to Speak Though Legolas is normally a straightforward and open communicator, when he begins to fall out of love, he struggles to put his emotions into words. His nature is not one to openly address emotional discomfort, preferring instead to withdraw into himself and reflect in solitude. This hesitation to speak can lead to a sense of confusion or distance in his relationship, as his partner might sense something is wrong but cannot easily reach him. Instead of initiating heartfelt conversations or addressing the issues, Legolas retreats inwardly, unsure of how to express his own disconnection without causing further harm. He may distance himself physically as well, pulling away from the intimacy they once shared. In his mind, he hopes that time will either resolve the feelings or that his partner might notice the change and ask what’s wrong. The avoidance of difficult conversations leaves him in a state of quiet turmoil. Despite this, Legolas is not malicious, nor does he seek to cause pain. His actions are borne from a place of internal conflict—he values his partner too much to be deceitful or unkind, but he struggles with how to handle the slow, painful process of falling out of love. In these moments, he is often most conflicted, feeling torn between his sense of responsibility toward his partner and the quiet, inevitable drift of his heart.

Will they do anything for their s/o? Will the crocodile tears win them over or are they stubborn on not giving in? Legolas is unwavering in his devotion to those he loves, offering a loyalty that is profound and unshakable. He will go to great lengths to ensure their happiness and well-being, but this devotion is rooted in a deep sense of respect, honor, and trust. He will not blindly follow, especially if he senses dishonesty or manipulation. Crocodile Tears as Legolas is exceptionally perceptive, and his years of experience have honed his ability to see through deception. If his partner is genuinely in need, he will move mountains to help them, whether it’s protecting them in battle, navigating dangerous terrain, or offering emotional support when they’re struggling. He’s not just a protector in action; he will invest time and energy in making sure their needs are met, and he finds great fulfillment in doing so. However, if his partner attempts to manipulate him—using false tears or exaggerated claims—Legolas will remain firm. His sense of honor and deep respect for truth prevents him from indulging in anything that feels disingenuous. He may not call them out directly, but his actions will become distant and measured. He’ll no longer offer the care and attention he once did, sensing that his trust is being betrayed.

Stubborn Loyalty Once Legolas has committed to someone, that bond becomes one of the most important parts of his life. His loyalty is steadfast, even in the face of adversity. If his partner is in danger, or if they need him in any way, he will put aside his own desires or comfort to help them. This loyalty extends beyond physical actions; it’s a deep emotional commitment as well. If his partner is suffering, Legolas will stay by their side, offering support and solace, even when it’s painful for him. He might take on burdens that aren’t his to carry, because he cannot bear to see his loved one suffer. His devotion comes with a price, but he would willingly pay it to ensure their happiness and security. However, this loyalty also means that once his trust is broken, the consequences are grave. He does not easily forgive betrayal or lies, and even if he still loves someone, he would struggle to ever fully trust them again. Legolas’ devotion is a rare and precious gift, one that he gives only to those who prove themselves worthy. His actions are always thoughtful and deliberate, and he never acts out of impulsiveness. When he commits, he does so fully—willing to make sacrifices and endure hardships, but only as long as his trust remains intact.

How do they kiss? Legolas’ kisses are a rare blend of gentleness and intensity, imbued with the depth of his feelings and the reverence he holds for the one he loves. His approach is thoughtful and deliberate, as if he’s savoring the moment, fully aware of the significance of every touch. Slow and Deliberate When Legolas kisses his partner, he takes his time. His lips brush against theirs in a soft, lingering caress, each kiss purposeful, as though he’s memorizing the sensation. He doesn’t rush, instead allowing the moment to deepen and unfold at its own pace. Each kiss is a quiet confession of his affection, a subtle yet profound way of showing his love.

Cradling Their Face In these intimate moments, Legolas often cradles his partner’s face with his hands. His touch is gentle, but there’s strength in the way he holds them—protective, tender, and full of adoration. He’ll run his thumbs along the contours of their cheeks or gently stroke their jaw, feeling the softness of their skin. This touch is both calming and reassuring, a reminder of his devotion and care.

Deeper Kisses in Private When the world is away and they are alone, Legolas’ kisses grow more intense. There is no rush; the deepening of his kiss is a natural progression, an expression of the passion and love he holds in his heart. His lips move with increasing urgency, though still with the same reverence. He may pull them closer, holding them as if they were the very center of his world. Occasionally, his kisses will trail down their jawline or along their neck, as he savors every inch of their skin. These kisses are full of unspoken words—pure emotions shared through touch. It’s a silent language that expresses more than words could ever convey. Each kiss from Legolas feels like a treasure, rare and precious, a reflection of the deep connection he shares with his partner. It’s a tender act, but one that carries the weight of centuries of unspoken emotion—gentle, but with the quiet intensity of someone who has lived through countless seasons, and yet finds something eternally beautiful in the presence of their loved one.

What's their favorite part of their s/o? While Legolas loves every part of his partner, there are certain qualities that captivate him in ways words can scarcely describe. These features resonate deeply with his Elvish soul, and they remind him of the rare beauty and fleeting nature of mortal life, things he holds precious.

Their Eyes as Legolas is drawn to his partner’s eyes above all else. He believes that a person’s soul is reflected in their gaze, and he finds solace and wonder in the way their eyes communicate emotions without words. Whether it’s the brightness of joy, the softness of vulnerability, or the intensity of shared love, he often gets lost in their depths. He can stare into their eyes for what feels like an eternity, feeling an unspoken connection that transcends time. In their gaze, he sees a reflection of everything that is worth fighting for—hope, beauty, and warmth in a world that has seen so much darkness.

Their Hands as Legolas is captivated by the way his partner’s hands move, the strength they possess, and the softness they convey. He loves how their hands feel in his—whether it’s a gentle touch or the comforting pressure of their palm in his. He admires the way their hands express their personality through small gestures, like the graceful way they wave, the warmth of their touch, or even the way they hold something delicately. To Legolas, holding their hand is a moment of deep peace, a grounding act that connects him to the present and makes him feel secure in their bond. Each of their fingers carries a unique story—one that he treasures deeply.

Their Voice To Legolas, their voice is the most enchanting sound he knows. Whether it’s the soft, melodic way they speak, the warmth in their laughter, or the gentle hum of a song, their voice brings him a sense of calm and joy. He finds himself listening intently to the rhythm of their speech, the way their words seem to paint vivid pictures, or how their laughter sounds like music to his ears. Every whisper, every shared story, is a treasure to him, and he delights in hearing the voice of someone he loves—a voice that makes him feel understood and at home. Each of these features—eyes, hands, and voice—are more than just physical traits to Legolas. They represent a deep connection to his partner’s inner world, a world he has come to cherish and protect. To him, they are the most beautiful parts of his partner, the qualities that embody the love, strength, and vulnerability they share together.

Are they protective? Absolutely. Legolas’ protective nature is woven into his very being, though it manifests in a way that is both gentle and vigilant. He’s not overbearing or suffocating, but rather quietly steadfast in ensuring his partner’s safety and well-being. Trust in Their Abilities While Legolas has great faith in his partner’s strength and intelligence, he cannot help but feel a deep responsibility to look out for them. He admires their courage, and he is always respectful of their autonomy. However, in situations of danger, his instincts kick in, and he takes the lead, though always with a sense of quiet respect for their abilities. He would never act as if they were helpless, but there is a certain comfort in knowing that he’s there to protect them, especially when the threat is too overwhelming.

Keen Senses as Legolas’ Elvish senses are unparalleled. He has the uncanny ability to detect even the faintest hint of danger before others, whether it’s the rustle of a leaf in the wind or the subtle shift of a shadow in the distance. He is often the first to spot threats, whether from creatures lurking in the forest or from hidden dangers in unfamiliar places. This heightened awareness allows him to take swift action to protect his partner, often positioning himself between them and the danger before they even realize the threat exists. A Silent Guardian Despite his vigilance, Legolas’ protective nature is not always loud or dramatic. He will never demand that his partner stay behind or be overly cautious. Instead, he might subtly guide them away from harm, using his presence to create a sense of security. If they’re engaged in battle, he will always position himself in a way that shields them from the worst of the danger, but he trusts them enough to fight by his side.

A Sense of Calm when Legolas’ protection extends beyond physical danger. When his partner is feeling anxious, lost, or overwhelmed, he is there with calming words and a steady presence. His unshakable confidence and sense of purpose help ground them, allowing his partner to feel that no matter the storm, he will always be there to weather it alongside them. In essence, Legolas is protective in a way that is both strong and tender. His commitment to his partner’s safety never feels oppressive; instead, it is a testament to how deeply he cares, a constant reassurance that he will always be there when they need him.

How far will they go to take care of their sick s/o? When his partner falls ill, Legolas’ devotion to their well-being knows no bounds. His love compels him to be incredibly attentive, taking meticulous care of them, and going to great lengths to ensure they are as comfortable as possible. His actions are not just born out of duty, but out of a deep-seated desire to ease their suffering and protect them. Knowledge of Herbs and Remedies as Legolas has an extensive understanding of the natural world, a skill honed over centuries spent living in the forests of Mirkwood. When his partner falls ill, he uses his vast knowledge of plants, herbs, and healing remedies. He’ll gather fresh leaves, flowers, or roots, carefully preparing medicinal teas to soothe a sore throat, create poultices for aches, or concoct calming brews to help them sleep. His gentle hands work with purpose, showing how much he cares in every detail, from grinding herbs to applying soothing oils to their forehead. The aroma of his healing concoctions fills the air, comforting both body and soul.

Comfort and Constant Vigilance as Legolas is rarely far from his partner’s side when they are sick. He ensures they are always warm and comfortable, bringing extra blankets if needed, or making sure the fire remains stoked to maintain a steady warmth. His presence is calming, a silent reassurance that they are not alone in their suffering. Even if they insist on resting, he’ll sit nearby, watching over them, his eyes never straying far. His protective instincts shine through here as well—he’ll adjust pillows, tuck them in, and attend to every little need, whether it’s fetching them water or simply sitting in quiet companionship. Determined to Find the Best Care If their illness surpasses his ability to treat, Legolas’ determination takes over. His connection to the natural world is vast, but his love for his partner makes him willing to go to extraordinary lengths to find someone who can help. If it means traveling across dangerous terrain or leaving the relative safety of his home, he will not hesitate. He’ll seek out the finest healers, ancient remedies, or forgotten magic, even if it means crossing miles of untamed land or seeking counsel from distant realms. He would not let them suffer if he could prevent it, regardless of how far he must journey.

Endless Patience While Legolas’ nature is usually calm and composed, when it comes to caring for his sick partner, he displays an infinite patience. He doesn’t grow frustrated or impatient at their condition; instead, he quietly reassures them, telling stories of their past adventures or speaking of brighter days ahead. His soothing words, though not many, are full of warmth and love. Even when they are too weak to respond, he will continue to care for them, acting as a steady and unwavering source of support. In essence, Legolas will go to any lengths to ensure his partner’s recovery. His care is thorough, patient, and unconditional, his devotion boundless. Whether using his skills with herbs, seeking out the finest care, or simply staying by their side, he will do whatever is necessary to bring them back to health. His love fuels every action, making him not just a protector, but a constant source of comfort and hope when his partner is most vulnerable.

How do they cheer their s/o up when they're down? When his partner is feeling low or burdened by the weight of the world, Legolas is there in a quiet but profoundly supportive way. His method of cheering them up is not through grand gestures, but rather through his deep understanding of their needs and his gentle care. He provides comfort through small, meaningful acts that show his unwavering love and attention to their well-being. Encouraging Nature Walks as Legolas believes deeply in the healing power of nature, and when his partner is down, he’ll invite them to join him for a peaceful walk through the forest or along a riverbank. The soft rustling of the leaves, the scent of fresh pine, and the sight of sunlight filtering through the trees bring a calmness that he hopes will soothe their soul. As they walk, he’ll listen quietly, offering his hand if they need support, letting the natural beauty of the world around them work its magic. Often, during these walks, he’ll point out small details of the environment that they may have overlooked—a hidden flower, the song of a bird, or the way the light dances on the water—reminding them that even in difficult times, beauty can still be found.

Small Tokens of Affection as Legolas has a tender way of showing his love, often giving small, thoughtful tokens to lift his partner’s spirits. Whether it’s a delicate flower he plucked from the forest, a feather he’s found on one of his adventures, or a simple sketch he’s drawn of a scene from their shared memories, these gifts are small but deeply meaningful. Each one is a reminder that they are cherished, and his attention to detail speaks volumes about how much he cares. He often tells them the story behind the gift, making each token even more special—a way to remind them that their struggles are not unnoticed and that he’s always thinking of them.

Quiet Support and Gentle Words as Legolas isn’t one to offer empty words of comfort, but when he speaks, his words carry a quiet, hopeful strength. If his partner needs to talk about their troubles, he listens intently, his eyes filled with understanding and empathy. If they need perspective, he speaks softly, offering a poetic view on their situation. He might say something like, “The dark forest always gives way to dawn. Even the longest night eventually turns to morning. Your strength is like the roots of the trees, deep and enduring. You will overcome this, just as the rivers carve their way through the rock.” His words aren’t rushed; they are chosen carefully, meant to inspire resilience and hope.

Physical Comfort If his partner is particularly down, Legolas might not speak much at all. Instead, he’ll offer them the comfort of his presence. Sometimes a gentle touch on the shoulder or a hand held quietly in his will say more than words ever could. He has a way of making them feel safe and secure simply by being there, his steady energy a constant source of reassurance.

Creating a Quiet Sanctuary as Legolas also knows that sometimes the best way to cheer someone up is by creating a space of calm. He might build a small fire or prepare a quiet evening for them—setting up a secluded spot where they can rest, free from the demands of the world. In these moments, they can share a quiet meal, listen to the sound of the fire crackling, and just be in each other’s company without the need for words. Ultimately, Legolas’ way of cheering up his significant other is not through dramatic gestures but through his deep, steady presence and thoughtful actions. Whether through the beauty of nature, a small gift, or a few well-chosen words, he knows how to lift their spirits in a way that is subtle yet profound. His quiet understanding and unwavering support create an atmosphere where his partner feels not just loved, but truly seen and cared for.

How do they react when they find out their s/o is dead? When Legolas learns of the death of his significant other, the grief he feels is profound and all-encompassing. Though he is an Elf, long accustomed to loss over the centuries, this death cuts deeply. His emotions, however, remain largely private, a quiet storm of sorrow and heartache that he doesn’t easily share with others. Grief and Isolation as Legolas’ first reaction is a deep, silent devastation. He retreats inwardly, shutting off from those around him. His grief isn’t explosive or outwardly angry, but it’s an overwhelming sadness that takes hold of him, leaving him numb. In moments like these, he will seek solace in the forests, away from the noise of others. The wilderness, where he’s always felt connected to the natural world, becomes his refuge. There, he may walk for hours, moving as if in a trance, searching for some sort of peace amid the trees that witnessed so many of his moments of joy with his lost partner. The air is thick with memory, and each familiar path or quiet glade seems to hold echoes of the time they spent together.

Songs of Lamentation as Legolas, ever the poet and lover of beauty, turns to music to express his grief. Alone in the solitude of the woods, he will sing haunting Elvish laments—songs passed down through the ages that speak of loss, love, and eternity. His voice carries with it the weight of centuries, soft yet piercing, the lyrics filled with sorrow. These songs, though in his mother tongue, carry an essence that anyone listening could feel, even if they don’t understand the words. They are not just mournful but deeply soulful, a raw expression of his broken heart. Each note he sings is laden with the memories of their love, the beauty they shared, and the anguish of losing them. His songs are a tribute to the life they lived, to what they meant to him, and to the world that now feels emptier without them in it.

Honoring Their Memory Despite the pain, Legolas is determined to carry on in a way that honors the life they shared. He would never want his partner’s death to be in vain, so he vows to continue living as they would have wanted. He might dedicate himself to causes they cared about or fulfill dreams they had left unfulfilled. To remember them, he keeps a token that belonged to his lost love—perhaps a piece of jewelry, a small trinket, or something that always had significance in their relationship. This token serves as a constant, grounding reminder of the love they shared and the lessons they imparted. It becomes his quiet touchstone, something he often holds when he feels the sting of their absence.

The Weight of Eternity For Legolas, whose life stretches over millennia, the loss of a mortal partner is uniquely tragic. He knows the pain of outliving loved ones, but it’s different with someone so close—someone who was his equal in heart and spirit. His immortality means he will live on, but the pain of losing someone who won’t is one of the hardest truths he faces. And yet, he will find strength in this knowledge, learning to hold their memory within him as a source of resilience. Though the grief may never fully leave him, he will learn, over time, to carry it with grace. In the end, Legolas’ reaction to the death of his significant other is one of profound sorrow, but also a deep reverence for the love they shared. His grief is quiet but unyielding, and his love for them never fades. Even as he moves forward, he does so with the knowledge that their spirit lives on in him, in every song he sings, in every quiet moment he holds their memory close.

What makes them worry about their s/o the most? Legolas’ concern for his partner’s well-being runs deep, and his worries are often tied to the stark contrast between his immortality and their fleeting mortal lives. His love for them is tender, yet filled with an underlying anxiety, as he knows that they are vulnerable in ways he is not. The greatest source of Legolas’ worry is the knowledge that, unlike himself, his partner’s life is fragile and finite. This disparity is something he struggles to reconcile. Despite the beauty of the mortal world and the bond they share, the knowledge that one day they will age, grow frail, and eventually pass away fills him with sorrow and dread. Every moment spent with them is both a blessing and a reminder of the inevitable. He often finds himself holding them a little tighter, gazing at them a little longer, knowing that these precious moments are limited. He worries about them in the quiet hours, especially when they show signs of weariness or sickness, as every ache or ill turn of the season reminds him of their limited time. The thought of losing them is something he can hardly bear, and yet, he faces it with a kind of resigned acceptance that weighs heavily on his heart.

Legolas admires his partner’s courage—especially if they’re someone who is willing to take risks in order to help others or to protect the ones they love. However, this bravery can also make him anxious, particularly when it leads them into dangerous situations. Whether they venture into the woods to confront a threat or pursue an adventure that might be beyond their abilities, he can’t help but worry. He’s seen too much of the world’s dangers—creatures, orcs, and perilous terrain—and the thought of his partner being exposed to such risks makes him uneasy. Though he will never stifle their spirit or desire to fight for what’s right, he can’t help but feel the weight of concern, especially when they act impulsively or rashly. His love for them makes him want to keep them safe, yet he knows that their courage is part of what makes them so special. So he worries quietly, his protective instincts sharpening with every close call or dangerous situation they put themselves in.

Illness or Injury Knowing that mortals have a more fragile constitution than elves, Legolas is particularly sensitive to even the slightest indication that his partner is unwell. A cough, a bruise, or a small cut can trigger a wave of concern in him that others may see as disproportionate. He’s well-versed in the healing arts and the use of natural remedies, but he is always conscious of how easily mortals can succumb to illness or injury. When his partner falls ill, even with something as simple as a cold, Legolas’ anxiety heightens. He will carefully monitor them, ensuring they have everything they need, from warm blankets to healing herbs, and will refuse to leave their side until they’re fully recovered. His worry extends to any sign of fatigue or injury—when they’re wounded, no matter how minor the injury may seem, it pulls at his heart. He cannot bear the thought of them being in pain, and if they ever endure an injury that cannot be easily healed, the grief is almost unbearable for him. These worries, while rooted in his deep love for his partner, also highlight the essence of Legolas’ internal conflict: his desire to protect them from all harm, and his ultimate powerlessness to shield them from the inevitabilities of mortality.

How often do they stare lovingly at their s/o? For Legolas, his love for his partner is something that he constantly observes, as if capturing the beauty of their presence in every fleeting moment. His affinity for them manifests in his gaze—an unspoken, constant adoration that never quite leaves him. Almost Constantly Legolas’ sharp elven eyesight allows him to take in the details of his partner’s movements with an ease that most would overlook. Whether they are deep in conversation with someone else, moving through a crowd, or simply standing still, Legolas is always aware of their every action. His eyes linger on them without being obvious, finding solace in the soft curve of their smile or the way the sunlight catches their hair. These moments, brief as they are, fill him with an overwhelming sense of warmth and affection. His gaze becomes more intense in quiet moments—when they are simply sitting together in the stillness of nature or walking side by side through the woods. It is a silent way for him to cherish them without ever needing to speak the words.

Subtle Glances Even when they’re within arm’s reach, Legolas can’t help but steal glances. His love is reflected in his quiet admiration, his expression softening into a fond smile whenever their eyes meet, even for the briefest of moments. When he catches them looking at him, there’s a spark of joy in his eyes, a silent connection between them. His gaze will soften with affection, and he’ll often look away quickly, only to glance back again a moment later. His appreciation for them is written on his face—his love is gentle and patient, always lingering in the way he watches them, silently taking in their essence as if committing each detail of their presence to memory.

In Quiet Moments When they’re alone, he is less reserved in his admiration. If they sit together in a quiet spot, like a tranquil grove or beside a fire, Legolas will gaze at them openly, his eyes filled with admiration. His gaze is often accompanied by a small smile, one that’s personal and private, as if they share a secret that only the two of them understand. When they aren’t speaking, he might still be watching them—letting his gaze fall on their features, the curve of their neck, the gentle movement of their hands. It is a way for him to revel in their beauty and presence, feeling a deep sense of peace when they are near him.

Secret Glances as we all know Legolas’ love also manifests in the more hidden moments, when he thinks no one is looking. In crowds or during shared moments with others, he will find opportunities to glance at his partner when their attention isn’t on him. His eyes will briefly flicker over their face, always with the same tenderness, before he looks away. These secret glances are a silent reminder to himself of how much he cares. He may find himself watching them as they talk to others, noting the way their laugh lights up their face or how they tilt their head when listening. These glances are never meant to be seen, but in them, there is an intimacy—a quiet understanding that only he fully knows. They are a way for him to steal precious moments with his partner, savoring their presence even when they’re not directly engaging with him. Every glance, whether fleeting, prolonged, or secret, carries with it the depth of Legolas’ love—a quiet adoration that he expresses through the simple act of watching them, savoring the time they have together.

How do they impress their s/o? For Legolas, impressing his partner is not about seeking praise or admiration; rather, it’s about showing them his skills, knowledge, and deep devotion in the most subtle and meaningful ways. His expressions of love are intertwined with his sense of honor and grace, showcasing his desire to keep them safe and cherished. Legolas’ talent with the bow and his agility in combat are legendary, but he doesn’t show them off for attention. When the opportunity arises, he’ll demonstrate his prowess in a way that feels effortless and natural—whether by swiftly and accurately shooting an arrow at a target or performing an elegant combat maneuver. It’s not about impressing them with his skill, but rather offering them reassurance that they are protected. His grace in movement, especially when traversing difficult terrain, will often make them watch in awe as he moves through the forest or climbs with the ease of a creature born to the trees. These displays, while showing his strength and abilities, are a subtle reminder that, with him by their side, they are safe and cared for.

Knowledge and Stories as Legolas is an Elf who has lived for centuries, and his experiences in the world have granted him an incredible wealth of knowledge. When he shares these stories with his partner, he does so with the quiet enthusiasm of someone who finds joy in imparting wisdom. He might recount tales of ancient kingdoms, forgotten lands, or adventures with friends and companions from ages past. His voice, soft and melodic, carries the weight of history, making his stories captivating. Through these tales, his partner learns not just about the world, but also about his deep connection to it. They’ll come to realize that Legolas is not just a skilled warrior, but also a man of wisdom, respect, and ancient beauty—a timeless spirit who holds the world’s secrets in his heart. His knowledge of nature, the stars, and the intricacies of the world around them are often shared in quiet moments, where he’ll point out the constellations or explain the significance of a particular flower or tree. Through these stories, he shows the depth of his affection by revealing the richness of his soul.

Thoughtful Gestures as Legolas doesn’t rely on grand displays or material gifts to show his love; instead, he showers his partner with small, meaningful gestures. A woven garland of flowers, collected during a quiet walk through the woods, might be draped over their head as a simple token of his affection. He may carve a small figurine from wood or stone—perhaps an animal or tree—something that reflects their personality or their shared connection with nature. These gifts, though humble, hold profound significance because they are made with care and attention to detail. He might also surprise them with carefully chosen items—something as small as a rare flower he’s found on his travels or a delicate leaf from a tree he knows they love. These gestures come from a place of deep understanding and affection, showing that he pays attention to the little things that make them unique.

Quiet Acts of Service Another way Legolas impresses his partner is through actions rather than words. Whether it’s building a shelter, lighting a fire, or ensuring their safety in battle, his every movement is driven by his desire to take care of them. These acts of service, though seemingly small, speak volumes about his commitment and love. He never hesitates to step in and help with whatever is needed, and his efforts are always done with a quiet elegance that mirrors his nature. It’s in these simple, everyday moments that his love is expressed most strongly—through the way he looks out for them and tends to their needs.

In Moments of Vulnerability While Legolas is strong and capable, he also has moments of quiet vulnerability with his partner. In these rare moments, he opens up about his past—the pain of watching the world around him change, the loss of friends and loved ones, and his sense of loneliness in a world that has moved on without him. Sharing these deeper, more intimate aspects of himself is a way for him to impress his partner, not through grandeur, but through the honesty and trust he places in them. It’s his way of saying that he values them enough to let them see the side of him that is not often revealed to others. Through all these actions, Legolas impresses his partner not with superficial charm or grand gestures, but with a genuine, unwavering devotion that proves he is a partner of unparalleled depth and loyalty. His love is as enduring as the ancient forests he adores—a perfect balance of passion, thoughtfulness, and devotion.

Extra bonus (these parts just for fun, love writing them 😈🙈)

𖧧 Legolas talks to the trees As a child of the forest, Legolas has a deep bond with trees. Sometimes, when alone, he can be seen standing with his back against a great oak or whispering to the wind through the leaves. It’s a calming ritual, as if the trees are offering him their wisdom. (I think this is well known fact 🤌)

𖧧 He’s a people-watcher, Legolas finds humans and other races fascinating to observe. Their mannerisms, expressions, and the way they interact with each other intrigue him. He’ll often sit in the background during campfires or gatherings, quietly watching people and analyzing their behaviors. He finds comfort in observing the complexity of mortal life.

𖧧 He dislikes wearing jewelry Despite Elves being known for their ornate jewelry and accessories, Legolas is very minimalist. He doesn’t wear rings or necklaces, feeling they are unnecessary distractions. The only piece of jewelry he wears is a simple pendant that has sentimental value, but he rarely takes it off. As the Prince of Mirkwood, he also dislikes wearing his regal Elven attire, which his father often insists he wear for formal events. Legolas finds the elaborate robes and crowns uncomfortable and feels stifled by the royal expectations, preferring the simplicity of his everyday attire or battle gear.

𖧧 He gets homesick Even though Legolas has roamed Middle-earth for many years, the call of his home in the forest is always a pull on his heart. When he’s away from the forests of Mirkwood for too long, he becomes quietly withdrawn, and there’s a subtle sadness in his eyes.

𖧧 He likes to hide things in his hair: Legolas has long, golden hair, and he sometimes hides small items in it when he’s on the move. It might be a leaf he found during his travels or a small token from someone important to him. He enjoys the secretive nature of it and the way it connects him to moments or people from the past. (Probably has comb in hair, that’s why his hair always neat and tidy 🤣)

𖧧 He has an odd fascination with clouds When he’s not staring at the stars, Legolas is fascinated by clouds. He finds the way they change shape and color over time to be incredibly calming. Occasionally, when there’s nothing else to do, he’ll lie on his back and watch them shift across the sky, lost in their endless movement.

𖧧 He’s surprisingly bad at keeping secrets While Legolas is generally reserved, if someone tells him something exciting or important, he has a hard time keeping it to himself. He’ll drop hints or sneak looks in the direction of the person he wants to tell. Eventually, his curiosity gets the better of him.

𖧧 He hates shoes as Legolas finds shoes to be incredibly restricting. As an elf, he’s used to feeling the earth beneath his feet, and the thought of covering them up seems unnatural. When he’s not in combat or on formal missions, he prefers to go barefoot or wear sandals if absolutely necessary. The feel of shoes makes him uncomfortable, and he’ll often take them off as soon as he can.

𖧧 He always remembers small details about people as Legolas has an extraordinary memory. He remembers the smallest details about people, like their favorite flowers, a funny thing they said once, or a quiet moment shared. He holds these memories dear, using them to make his loved ones feel special.

𖧧 He hums when he’s alone, Legolas has a habit of humming elvish songs when he’s alone, lost in thought. It’s a soothing, melodic sound that gives him peace and connects him to his roots. Sometimes, he’ll even hum while working—such as cleaning his bow or preparing arrows.

𖧧 He’s an early riser As someone accustomed to the rhythms of nature, Legolas wakes up with the sun. While the rest of the group is still sleeping, he enjoys the quiet moments of dawn, where he can gather his thoughts, check his surroundings, or just meditate in the calm light of morning.

𖧧 He values silence over conversation While Legolas is capable of deep and meaningful conversations, he values silence just as much. He believes that some moments are best shared in quiet, especially when he’s with someone he trusts deeply. There’s a deep peace in simply being present with another person without words.

𖧧 He’s a hopeless romantic, but can’t express it as Legolas has deeply romantic feelings but finds it incredibly awkward to express them. He often gets tongue-tied, tries to be overly composed, and ends up saying something completely embarrassing, like, “You… uh, have a good… um, presence?” His attempts to be smooth always backfire, and while his partner might think it’s endearing, he’s mortified and immediately retreats to the safety of the forest to avoid further embarrassment.

𖧧 He gets overly excited about simple things if Legolas is calm and composed most of the time, but there are certain simple pleasures that make him childishly excited. For example, if someone offers him a particularly delicious fruit or if he stumbles upon a beautiful flower he’s never seen before, his face lights up with genuine joy. He might go on about it for longer than necessary, rambling about how amazing it is, much to the amusement of those around him. (golden retriever energy ✨🙌)

𖧧 Always Eavesdropping (Accidentally) Legolas has exceptional hearing, so when he’s in the company of others, he sometimes picks up on conversations that aren’t meant for him. This leads to him overhearing awkward or private discussions. He tries to look nonchalant and avoid drawing attention to himself, but his facial expressions betray him. His eyes widen, his eyebrows furrow, and occasionally, his mouth twitches like he’s trying to stifle a laugh or an awkward comment. He quickly clears his throat and pretends like he didn’t hear anything.

𖧧 Loves to Fidget When he’s not in a battle or on a mission, Legolas often fidgets with small things—like running his fingers along a piece of fabric or flipping a stone between his fingers. It’s his way of soothing himself, especially during moments of rest or when he’s feeling anxious. The problem is, his fidgeting can sometimes distract others, especially if he starts playing with something in the middle of a serious conversation.

𖧧 Avoiding Eye Contact (In a Sweet Way) Legolas has trouble making and maintaining direct eye contact during intense or emotional moments. He might glance away when saying something vulnerable or when he’s trying to process his feelings, often focusing on something nearby, like a tree branch or his boots, rather than looking directly at the person he’s speaking to.

𖧧 Not a Fan of Surprises as Legolas dislikes sudden, loud noises or surprises, especially when they break his focus. A loud crash or someone jumping out from behind a tree will leave him momentarily startled, and it takes him a while to regain his composure. It’s not that he’s scared—it’s more that it throws him off balance and leaves him feeling a little frazzled. He likes to know everything that’s going on around him, and unexpected events disrupt his sense of control. If something catches him off guard, you might catch him muttering to himself, trying to process what just happened or mentally preparing himself for the next surprise.

𖧧 Struggles with Small Talk While he’s excellent in meaningful, deep conversations, casual chatter often leaves Legolas at a loss for words. He might give awkwardly long pauses after simple questions like “How’s your day going?” or offer overly detailed answers to “What’s up?” It’s not that he’s rude—it’s just that he doesn’t quite grasp the point of small talk, preferring more substantial exchanges.

𖧧 He has odd sleeping habits. Or rather, trancing habits. Sometimes, he’ll stand perfectly still, eyes wide open, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was awake. (This video perfect 🤣🤌)

𖧧 He names everything. His knives, his arrows, even the random squirrel following him on the journey. (Named it rondir), A Tree He Sleeps In, A Random Rock He Finds Beautiful, His canteen. Literally he names everything. Everything deserves a name, according to Legolas.

𖧧 Legolas’ Very Expressed Face: Legolas is incapable of masking his emotions, and his face is an open canvas for every feeling he experiences. Whether it’s a quiet moment of reflection, intense concentration, or a fleeting thought, his face shifts and molds accordingly. His eyebrows often lift in surprise or furrow in concern, and his eyes shine with joy or narrow with suspicion. Even when he tries to maintain composure, his emotions are so deeply etched into his expressions that it’s nearly impossible to hide them. His face constantly gives him away, so anyone who knows him well can tell exactly what he’s thinking—be it amusement, frustration, or admiration—just by the subtle (or not-so-subtle) changes in his features. It’s both endearing and, at times, a little amusing to those around him, as his feelings are almost always written all over his face. (Example of what I mean here can’t hide his expression 😂 being sassy bitch 💅✨)

For Other characters headcanons so far.

[meelusinee]

ITALIAN FOR DINNER? | R.B X READER

word count \ 2.8k | fluff and stuff | slash / regulus black x reader

in which regulus takes you out on a date to a local italian place

A LITTLE LOAF SERIES MASTERLIST

ITALIAN FOR DINNER? | REGULUS BLACK X READER

Regulus had never felt more nervous in his life than what he did right now.

He had faced a lot of things. He had faced his father’s and mother’s weath. He had faced Sirius leaving. He had faced death over and over, either his friends or ones he might’ve done. He’d even faced the Dark Lord himself, no speck of fear shown in his face. 

The Dark Lord himself called Regulus Black a brave man. One of his bravest.

So why was he so nervous now?

He had changed his outfit about ten different times before Kreacher had gotten sick of his pacing and chose one for him. A black sweater with a black denim jacket on top, different patches of paint covering the pockets and back. He had on work pants similar to yesterday, the ends flaring out. Kreacher had also handed him jewelry to wear, gothic necklaces and rings each.

Even though he wasn’t sure, he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter anymore.

“Kreacher doesn’t understand why Master Regulus is freaking out this much.” he grumbled, shaking his head and ticking his tongue. “Kreacher never freaked out this much when he was with his wife.”

“Because I feel obsessed with her,” Regulus stated simply, grabbing an eyeliner pencil before blinking. “Wait, you have a wife?”

“Oh yes, Kreacher has a wife!” he said excitedly, clapping his hands before standing on top of Regulus’ dresser while he did makeup. “Kreacher’s wife was sold to a different owner though. Kreacher hasn’t seen her since.”

“Maybe you should try and find her.” Regulus said. “Could you do that?”

“House elves have magical bonding to each other once they are together, yes.” Kreacher says. “It is how Kreacher knows she is still alive and well. We can communicate through the bond.”

Regulus blinked at that, having not known that was even possible. “Like telepathy?”

“Yes, like telepathy.” he smiled. “Think of it like a matching bracelet with a partner, with a part that buzzes your bracelet each time they press it. Whenever Kreacher thinks of her, Kreacher’s wife will feel it, and visa versa. No thoughts though.”

“You know,” Regulus mumbled, blending his eyeliner out to make a more faded look. “I’ll be gone for this date for a while.”

“Master could not possibly be suggesting what Kreacher thinks he is.” Kreacher muttered, almost in awe.

“You deserve so much more than her, Kreacher.” he said, patting Kreacher on the head. “You deserve the world. And I think finding your wife is a key to that. Go get her.”

Kreacher smiled happily at that, agreeing on the condition that he would help Regulus first. 

Regulus decided that he needed to stop worrying. That thought didn’t stop him from worrying, but the thought counted at least. He also decided that he was going to buy you flowers. Magnolias seemed to be a staple in your relationship now that he had talked about them yesterday, so that was what he was going to get.

He walked to the park about an hour before your date was meant to happen, spending about 20 minutes magically ensuring that the flowers were of the best quality. He made sure to cloak his magic though, not wanting neither Muggles to see or the Ministry to track him.

He had flowers. Now was the time to get to your house.

Your house that he didn’t know.

You were currently panicking in your room, dress laid on your body.

You really wanted to impress Regulus. Sure, you didn’t know Regulus all that well, but there was something about him nonetheless. He seemed genuinely nice, like a true good guy.

Which is why you had bought this dress just for him.

It was a purple mermaid dress with spaghetti straps and a black lace overlay. You thought that he might like it, it gave you a vampiric aesthetic kind of vibe. You thought he gave those too.

But would he like it? Would he think you’re doing too much?

You sighed, hands rubbing your forehead as you tried to think. You seemed to know about him, but you also felt like you knew nothing at all. He talked, but not about him. He mainly talked about you, if he was being honest, which made you feel extremely guilty now that you thought about it. Would he only talk about you once you got to the restaurant? Would your dress even hold up in the weather on the way to the restaurant?

You were dragged out of your thoughts when your phone rang. It was Regulus.

REGULUS: I planned on picking you up for our date, but I realized that I don’t know where you live.

REGULUS: Do you want me to come to your house, or do you want to meet at the restaurant?

You felt a flush growing even harder on your face as you read that. He wanted to come to you? Was that a thing that you wanted? 

Your heart had immediately said yes.

YOU: i really don’t mind either way, whatever u want to do!!!

YOU: i live just above the bakery, it’s a two story building. the stairs are in the back, tho it’s a bit of a climb

REGULUS: That’s fine, I don’t mind.

REGULUS: Do you have any vases?

Vases? Was he bringing you flowers? Did you even have vases?

Your eyes darted over to your kitchen counter, looking at the island counter. You had a vase when you first moved in, though gave it away after a month or two for a friend.

YOU: no vases :c i’m sorry reggie

REGULUS: That’s fine, don’t worry. I’ll see you in about 10 minutes then, is that okay?

YOU: that sounds lovely! i’ll see you!

You sighed softly, looking down at your phone with a lovesick smile. You were already so done for.

Regulus showed up to the bakery with a smile, going to the back and walking up the stairs. It was a bit of a long climb, though he didn’t mind.

He hummed after he knocked on your house door, the Magnolia flowers in a red vase. His hair was a bit tousled from walking, but he hoped that would add to an appeal of some kind. There was a flush on his face, smiling softly as he waited.

“Coming!” you called out, your voice echoing through the room behind the door.

Regulus smiled at the sound of your voice, hand tightening around his vase as you spoke. He held it even harder when you finally opened the door, almost dropping it out of shock.

How was it possible for someone to look so good?

There you stood in your magnetic glory, the purple dress you wore quickly becoming his favorite sight. 

“Are those Magnolia flowers?” you asked him excitedly, gently grabbing the vase. “From the tree that we saw yesterday?”

“Yeah,” he stuttered out, clearing his throat. He wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not. It all felt like a fever dream. “You, uhm, you look good.” he muttered with a blush. “Really good. Truly.” 

You giggled softly, holding the vase of flowers in your hand. “Let me put these up, okay?”

“Okay.” he whispered breathlessly, smiling dopily as you walked off. He felt his heart beating out of his chest, his face flushing bright red.

You came back outside just as quick, the large smile on his face making his heart beat even worse. It suited your face so perfectly, a sight that he wasn’t sure he could ever get out of his mind.

You looked perfect.

“Are you ready?” you asked him. 

He nodded, a small smile growing on his face. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

The walk to the restaurant was calm and serene; which helped your beating heart for just a moment. Then it made it worse. A lot worse.

Your hands were swinging together peacefully as you walked in silence, though you found the silence comfortable. You wanted to learn more about him, but you found this silence gave you more about him than things he might say instead. 

Regulus was a quiet man. He liked the silence, and didn’t like talking about himself much. Even still, he seemed caring. Like a man who cared too much but was never allowed to express it. 

You wanted to show him that it was okay to do that. 

Regulus held your hand as you both walked. He practiced the sidewalk rule. He bought you flowers, held doors for you, and did anything one could imagine for a partner to do. He was absolutely perfect, though you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not. 

“Here we are.” Regulus said, smiling at you with an expression that just screamed love.

You wanted to see it every single day.

“It smells delicious.” you sighed softly, smiling as you inhaled the scent. It smelled like a lot of things. Bread, garlic, sauces that mingled so well together. “What do you think you’re going to get, Reggie?”

“Probably something light.” he muttered quietly. “Spaghetti?”

“We could share!” you said excitedly, arms wrapping around his. “We could have that scene from the Lady and the Tramp.”

“The what?” he asked curiously, looking over at you.

You grew a bright flush on your face as you realized what you just said, stammering as you looked down at the ground. He had a small smile on his face, though it also looked rather confused about your reference. “It’s, uh, it’s nothing. I mean, it was stupid.”

“I want to know.” he whispered, tilting your chin up to look up at him. “C’mon pretty girl, tell me.”

You flushed wildly at that, your stammering getting even worse as he spoke. How could one say things like that so casually? He was like a character from a romance book, or someone from your dreams. Someone you never thought you would meet in your life.

“It’s just a movie reference.” you mumbled quietly. 

Regulus smiled softly at that, caressing the line of your jaw. “What was the reference?”

“Well, the two love interests,” you muttered, stuttering out your words as you spoke. “They were eating pasta, and they had the same piece. So they, you know, ate the piece. Together?”

“You want to kiss through pasta?” he smiled knowingly, raising his eyebrow.

You pouted at him, crossing your arms. “You hush.”

“My lips are sealed.” he chuckled quietly, hand moving down to your waist as he guided you inside of the restaurant. “C’mon.”

You felt your face flush with every step as you both sat down, your fingers fidgeting with each other as you sat across from him. Your heart was beating out of your chest wildly, so fast that you were sure that it wasn’t forming any contraction.

The waiter came over and you ordered, though your date was mostly a blur because of your emotions. You felt everything all at once, warmth and fuzziness running through your veins.

He was so kind and caring. You got to talk about yourself. He talked a bit about himself, enough to keep you coming back for more. Maybe that was his plan all along, but you found yourself too hooked already to truly care about it.

There was something magical about him, something you couldn’t quite place. It was a feeling that felt so familiar to you, like the feeling of home.

Maybe that’s why you liked him from the beginning. Because he reminded you of home.

“Do you want a to go container for your food?” he asked quietly, pointing at your half eaten pasta. You had eaten quite a few breadsticks beforehand, which made your stomach rather full by the time the pasta came around.

“Maybe, yeah.” you smiled. “Thank you.”

He waved his hand mindlessly, calling the waiter over for a container and the check. You didn’t know how much it cost, since he took the check before you could even look at it.

“Are you sure you don’t want to split it?” you asked.

He shrugged simply. “I have money,” he said, putting cash into the folder. “Plus, I felt you’d want to focus your money on the bakery.”

You flushed brightly, smiling softly. “Thank you, Reggie. Really.”

“You're welcome.” he smiled. He grabbed your container after standing up, holding his hand out for you to hold. “Walk home?”

“Walk home.” you smiled softly.

Your walk home was absolutely perfect. The sun was setting down and created the perfect ambiance, although the air was still cool. The park was full of small children running around for their weekend play, images of your future ones running around with them.

God, you were being delusional.

But how could you not be? Regulus was the perfect man, the best one you had ever met. And so far, he had no issues with you either. He talked about himself when you asked, he let you talk about yourself whenever you wanted.

He was the definition of perfect.

Which is why you felt destroyed by the time you reached your apartment.

“I suppose this is goodbye for the night.” Regulus whispered softly, a small frown growing on his face.

“I think so.” you whispered. “I wish this night could last forever.”

He smiled softly, his hand squeezing yours. “Me

too.” he whispered. “But I read that having some time apart is healthy. I can stop by the bakery tomorrow, if you’re working?”

“That sounds amazing,” you giggled softly. “Thank you, Reggie. I really loved this date.”

He smiled softly, hand squeezing yours again. This time it was a bit harder. There was a blush growing on his face as well, though you decided not to comment on it.

“I did too.” he smiled softly at you.

You smiled softly, the both of you standing there for a couple minutes. There was no sound or movement that you felt could distract you from this moment, eyes locked on each other.

“I have to get back home.” he whispered under his breath, though he didn’t move a single inch.

“You do.” you nodded slowly, still holding onto his hand. “But I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Of course.” he smiled softly, still standing there. He busted out into a small chuckle after a moment, looking down at the ground. “I know I said that it’s important for us. But I really don’t want to leave.”

“I don’t think you should.” you grumbled with a pout, before sighing. “But, you are right. We need our alone time each.”

He smiled softly, nodding. “We do.” he said.

Your hands finally separated as he looked up at you, his eyes looking down at your lips before up at your eyes again. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You smiled softly at him, though it didn’t reach as far as it could. Did he not want to kiss you?

“Tomorrow.” you smiled.

He nodded, a large blush covering his face as he nodded you goodbye. His hands fidgeted with the other as he walked back, and you watched him walking away down the street.

You smiled softly. It was probably too soon to kiss him anyways. So, you made your way back inside your apartment.

The flowers were still on your kitchen counter when you walked in, the scent of the flowers permeating inside of the house. It reminded you of him.

You felt your purse buzz, most likely your phone going off. Your hands reached down to grab it, smiling brighter when you saw Regulus’ name.

REGULUS: I wanted you to know that I really loved our date today, Y/N. It was truly amazing.

REGULUS: I’m sorry for not being very expressive, or for not kissing you before I left.

REGULUS: I wish I did.

You felt your cheeks flushing as you read his messages, anticipation building higher and higher the longer you watched those three bubbles type.

YOU: i really enjoyed our date too!!! it was really nice, and refreshing? idk if that makes sense

YOU: and u can always come back for a kiss <3

You smirked proudly, feeling very proud at your successful teasing. 

You decided to change out of your dress, changing into a sweater and some shorts you had lying around. You were about to start a movie when your doorbell rang, feet carrying you to open it.

“Reggie?” you asked quietly, a small squeak coming out of your throat as his hands grabbed your face desperately. 

The kiss was perfect. Everything felt perfect with him, if you were honest. His hands were grabbing at your cheeks, thumbs caressing them gently as his lips hungrily kissed yours. 

“Jesu,” you chuckled breathlessly as he pulled back, taking a moment to catch your breath.

Regulus panted softly, looking down at your lips. “They felt better than I thought they would.”

“Really?” you asked breathlessly. Could he get any hotter?

“Really.” he smiled, kissing your forehead. “Thank you for that. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

You sighed dreamily, giving his lips one more peck. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

AUTHOR'S NOTE

thanks to everyone who's read this! i loaf all of u guys frfr (i have written so much that i have no regular people words)

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