#which; if you read that as romantic that's fine! it just doesn't come across that way to me

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

honestly i think one of the reasons phirell changed my brain chemistry is that on my first playthrough i started shipping them as soon as he showed up, half out of spite for Oh God Not the Edgy Forced Het Ship Tease and half out of spite for knowing characters like philio are never involved in canon ships, only to get completely poleaxed by him being THE main subtextual love interest while kirell/aam is significantly more ambiguous once you get past balaam's surface-level performance. literally one of the potential last questions on his section of charon's interview--which you only find out is the case on your second playthrough--makes him happy if you say you're fine with just living out your life, and even happier if you say you're open to starting a family. when i tell you i was going insane

[pomefioredove]

May I have a sugar cookie, #14, with sprinkles and marshmallows? Thank you (^×^)

read an actual book today so I feel less constipated with my writing. thank you everyone for patience!!

order #14, sugar with sprinkles and marshmallows

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ it's my honor

tropes: roommate AU, hurt/comfort characters: silver additional info: romantic or platonic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu

Perhaps it was pity, perhaps it was kindness.

You can never be too sure at Night Raven College. But after months of living and studying and working here, you've taught yourself not to question good things.

It's January, and it's cold.

The warning of a blizzard is tacked to your door after there's already snow up to your knees, late in usual Crowley fashion.

When Lilia offers you a room in Diasomnia for the week, you say yes.

You had just thought he meant a room in Diasomnia. As in, your own.

Not Silver's.

"Are you comfortable?" he asks, for the thousandth time.

Despite his demeanor, calm and quiet as ever, you can sense the restless anxiety in his room tonight.

He's been like this since you and Grim were left at his door.

There's no doubt in your mind that Lilia hadn't asked nor warned him of the coming visitors. "I'm alright,"

"Not too cold?" he crosses his arms, and looks rather uncomfortable. It makes your stomach twist with guilt.

"No, it's fine. Thank you for having us,"

Grim is already snoring at the end of the bed, somehow hogging all of the blankets, despite his small size.

Silver sits beside him, stiff and awkward and uncomfortable.

"Not hungry?" he asks. Is he trying to get rid of you? Already?

"No, um... the feast that Malleus and Lilia put on was... plenty. Too much, even," you smile and sit, too.

There's something, almost like a smile, that plays on Silver's lips, but then his arms are tight across his chest and his expression has gone calm again.

"I'm pleased. We're all... very glad to have you,"

You snort at that, and, again, his calm, stoic expression ripples like the waters of a pond.

"Did I say something humorous?"

"Oh, uh... no, sorry. I just... um... you don't seem super excited to have me here," you smile awkwardly. "Which is fine! I guess I should've expected... Lilia didn't tell either of us, huh?"

Silver doesn't respond. You were hoping to see that faint smile again, or at least hear that hum of agreement from his lips, but there's nothing.

You look at him again, and he avoids your eyes.

"...It was I who sent for you,"

Your heart sinks. Oh... Oh?

"Oh,"

There's a quiver in his voice that he fails to drown. "H-have I been burdening you?"

"No!" you exclaim, quite loudly and abruptly (perhaps you've spent too much time with Sebek?) and Silver's eyes go wide.

"I-I thought I was burdening you..."

He stares, taken aback by your volume and then your words, and then there's that smile, again.

"Burdening me..." he repeats, as if you had said something terribly silly.

"You could never do such a thing. It was I who suggested you stay in Diasomnia, after all. I-I apologize for making you feel unwelcome. My... chivalry can come off as coldness sometimes."

You take a breath to calm yourself, and then you smile, too. Silver's eyes soften at the sight.

"Ah... I see," you mutter. "Thank you, then."

Even his smile softens. He tugs a blanket away from Grim and delicately wraps it around your shoulders, shielding you from the cold.

"It's my honor."

[utilitycaster]

I like that the Raven Queen, who made the decision to take on an immense and (at least to her understanding at the time) unending responsibility is the one who calls Bells Hells out on their endless indecision.

It's been...interesting, shall we say, tracking this "party of NPCs," and tracking the fandom response throughout. The initial reception to "party of NPCs" was actually a rather cold one. This took place early in the campaign, prior to the Gnarlrock fight, and at the time a lot of people who shipped Imogen and Laudna were actually extremely resistant to the idea that Imogen was the "main character" of the campaign (as seen in the fallout from the gnarlrock fight, in which the bulk of attacks from the fandom were on Imogen). I've had complicated feelings on Taliesin's reads of this campaign specifically - he tends to have a very good understanding of his own characters that doesn't necessarily expand beyond them - but that phrase was indeed pretty valid. I think about the WBN interludes, in fact, in which the cast plays using NPC statblocks, and what a true party of NPCs for Bells Hells would look like, since it would be quite simple to draw up.

Allied NPCs in TTRPGs rarely act without guidance from the PCs. I've cast a critical eye in the past towards certain meta (particularly romantic in nature, regarding Yeza or Essek or Gilmore not making moves) for this reason, because while villains and antagonists move throughout the world generating obstacles, allies exist to be directed. They have their limits, of course; they have their own priorities and motivations and cannot be persuaded against their nature, but they can be guided at oblique angles from the GMs initial intent given enough work from the PCs. They're still people with thoughts and feelings and dreams, to an extent, but rarely do they make decisions that would conflict with those of the PCs.

That's the problem with a party of NPCs. NPCs take direction. They serve as support, but they're not in the driver's seat. And the Raven Queen has noticed.

The attitude within the fandom towards "Party of NPCs" became far more positive over time, and I wonder if it should have. People began to lean perhaps too heavily on how Bells Hells were people from nothing and nowhere, discarded. This is of course objectively false when comparing across parties (can we really say Imogen had a worse childhood than Vex? Chetney to Caleb? Even Ashton to Fjord?) but were it true, that in and of itself wouldn't be a problem. D&D backstories are often tear-stained and blood-soaked, full of unjust accusations, dead or neglectful parents, failure and regret. D&D is a game about coming from very little but a disproportionately good stat block for a commoner. It is unavoidably about amassing power. Starting off as a party of NPCs is fine. You should not still be a party of NPCs at the endgame.

I mentioned the gnarlrock, and I've mentioned an emphasis (or overemphasis) on this party's lack of agency and I think that remains the problem. Ludinus's villainy is rich, complex, and multifaceted, but a consistent element of it is his eternal false insistence that he - Martinet, founder and head of the Cerberus Assembly, Archmage - is just a little guy, chaff in the wind of the will of the gods, without free will of his own (he says, as he places his thread outside the reach of the Matron). That too is a theme in fandom discourse: free will and intent. Is Imogen justified in being angry at Laudna for breaking the rock if that wasn't Laudna's intent? (yes.) Is Orym on a quest of vengeance, with a death wish? (no, but if he were it wouldn't matter.) Was it wrong to pressure Fearne to take the shard instead of letting her make her own choices? (yes.)

Did any of you, perhaps in preschool or kindergarten, since that's about the age when this happens, have someone pull your hair and for adults to say "it's because they like you?" I find this is a good way to convey the importance, or unimportance, or intent. Because when your hair is being pulled, at least if that is the extent of the problem, it doesn't matter if it comes from the misguided affections of a four-year-old admirer who doesn't know how to use their words, or a six-year-old who just grabbed the most obvious material with which to test the limits of the safety scissors, or an eleven-year-old bully. Your hair is being pulled and you want it to stop. It doesn't matter if the person secretly likes you or if they want to hurt you; it matters that no matter the intent behind it, they are doing so. And if you reject the affections of your fellow preschool classmate because you think they might pull your hair, that's a fair consequence.

Bells Hells' indecision is some sort of cosmic hair pulling. They have reasons for faltering, and some of those reasons are understandable balking at an immense weight placed upon them and some of those reasons come from a deeply self-centered place in which their individual pain is used to blot out the suffering of countless others. But in the end, even that doesn't matter. Their histories don't matter. We don't need another series of introductions of where they come from and what they've done. We need people who can make decisions and who will act.

The Raven Queen seems to have been convinced they will. I'm not sure. But I think we are in agreement that inaction is, regardless of the intent behind it, no different than active harm. It would be irresponsible to continue to be a party of NPCs; if they truly are lost and forgotten fuck-ups, they have a responsibility (as the god of death once did) to abdicate and find a replacement.

[dropoutconfessions]

It makes me incredibly angry when people say "Riz is canonically aro/ace" and act like you're a horrible person if you ship him with people. Like. Nowhere in the show is it ever stated that he's aro/ace. The conversation people reference as him being "canonically" aro/ace is just him expressing his lack of very specifically sexual attraction, and even then the response from his dad (and by extension Brennan and the show as a whole) is that it's okay, and that it's specifically unclear whether he's ace or whether it's just not something that's happened for him in specific yet. It is intentionally vague as to whether he is ace or not, and there's genuinely zero indication in the show that he's aro other than that he doesn't have a love interest which could be completely unrelated.

Right so I'd like to share my opinion on this for a brief moment. I am still fully here to give people a voice, but this is just, an issue that kinda hits close to home since I'm demiaro.

The most annoying thing in a lot of media is when representation is shoehorned in as a list of labels and buzzwords we're given. Queer people should not have to turn to the screen and say their full identity in order for them to be canonically queer. That's what subtext is for. That's what good writing does. Is not spell it out for you when it's not necessary to do so. They do not need it to be spelt out for it to be very clear that he's ace/aro.

I am going to assume ignorance here instead of assuming malicious intent. The idea that the reason he isn't ace, is because "it's not something that's happened for him in specific yet", is an extremely common thought process behind asexual erasure. I'm sure that's not what you intended, but that is something to reflect on in general.

Both Adaine and Riz have yet to have relationships or display crushes (not counting junior year since most of the evidence comes from sophomore year) . Adaine hasn't gotten an entire nightmare sequence / arc around dealing with here friends all finding partners and leaving them alone. Adaine hasn't expressed or had conversations about any lack of sexual or romantic feels to the extent Riz has. Adaine is headcanoned as ace/aro by some people. Riz is more than that. Riz is very much canonically ace/aro if you do the slightest bit of character analysis. There's accidental coding and then there's Riz Gukgak.

List of every single Riz trait that is hella ace/aro coded

A lack of sexual and romantic attraction to other people (I'm not counting the time where he said he was kinda into Sexy Rat, that whole scene was a bit, and absolutely insane)

Making up a partner/crush in order to fit in (I have 1000% done that and so have a lot of acespec and arospec people)

A fear of being left behind by his friends because of a belief that they will find partners and move on from him, largely caused by alloromantic culture's insane emphasis on how the most important relationship is a romantic one

The fact that almost every other fantasy high pc has been in a relationship or a crush (kristen had tracker and gertie, gorgug had zelda, unit, and mary ann, fabian had aelwyn, ivy, and mazey, adaine had oisin and possibly zayn depends on your interpretation, and fig has had ayda and a string of professionals in a variety of fields across seasons 1 and 2) with only riz as a single character

The fact his sophomore year arc was entirely about his lack of sexual/romantic attraction and fear of being left alone because of it

Like not even a joke, it was that and his dad, that was the whole arc

His junior year arc was also about his obsession to stay together as a friend group, which like I mentioned above, is very clearly based in his asexuality and aromanticism

I am not going to stop people from shipping characters ever. If you want to rewrite character sexualities, that's fine by me, I'm a big believer in "Don't Like, Don't Read". I am not gonna pretend like characters are not their sexuality in canon so that people feel justified in writing their stories. People who rewrite character sexuality can do so without making everyone else assuage their guilt for them. I know I'm on the "piss on the poor" reading comprehension website, but it's not hard to tell Riz is ace/aro in canon, and pretending otherwise doesn't help your case.

[jaempanini]

☆ I fucking hate pasta

Jeno x Reader

Notes: established relationship and stuff whatever whatever I made this in like an hour please don't execute me from tumblr

Synopsis: You make pasta often, because you know that it's one of Jeno's favourite foods. Jeno never complains when you make him pasta, because he knows you love it. Plot twist: you both hate that shit 😔

Word count: 1.2k

You gently cut up the basil for the pasta sauce as a pot with water slowly begins to boil. You aren't sure when exactly you'd started cooking for Jeno, but what you do know is that you absolutely adore doing it. Jeno is always super appreciative, and nothing makes you happier than seeing his excitement whenever you place a plate of food down in front of him.

In fact, cooking for Jeno might be one of your favourite activities.

The only part that you can confidently say you despise about it, is that Jeno loves pasta. Not only does he love it, he is obsessed with it. Now, any other food would be okay, you aren't that picky. But pasta? Oh, you hate pasta. And it's heartbreaking, because you want to like it, you want to enjoy it with Jeno, but you just can't. You've tried, oh you've fucking tried alright, and you've concluded that pasta might be the worst food to ever grace this earth.

So almost every other evening you have to sit across from Jeno and miserably stuff your mouth with pasta and pretend that you aren't on the verge of tears. Romantic!

The water starts to boil, and your heart sits heavy in your chest as you salt it and then pour the pasta in, mixing it so that it doesn't stick to the bottom of the pot.

Just as you put the spoon down, you hear your front door unlock, and your brain reminds you that Jeno just came back from the gym, so it's most likely that he'll be extra hungry.

You turn around just as he stops in front of the kitchen entrance. He smiles at you and then his eyes briefly flit to the pot behind you. An unreadable expression settles on his face. "Pasta again?" he asks, looking at you curiously.

You nod, giggle and walk over to him, throwing your arms around his neck, leaning up to kiss him. Jeno's hands instinctively find your waist, and he gently presses you closer to him. As you break apart, you move one of your hands to cup his cheek. Then, with all the sweetness in the world, you say, "You smell terrible. Please take a shower."

Jeno gasps in mock-offense and pulls you closer to him, to which you whine and playfully hit his chest. "Come oooon, you know damn well you don't smell like fresh flowers after the gym, go and shower!"

Jeno finally lets go of you and steps away. You immediately miss his touch, but you decide that this is for the greater good. The gym scent lowkey gives you toxic gas vibes.

"Fine," Jeno sulks, "but don't start eating dinner without me!"

"Wouldn't dream of it." You reply, and you know it's true, because if you were alone there'd be no way you would ever even think of putting pasta in your mouth.

Jeno kisses you on the cheek, before finally leaving to go take a shower.

You sigh, look back at the pot of pasta, and understand that you have to face your biggest enemy once again. For the sake of Jeno.

Jeno stands in the bathroom, leaning against the sink. The mirror is fogged up from the steam, and Jeno fights the urge to wipe it with his hand. He knows you hate the marks it leaves.

His phone is laying on the counter and his messages with Renjun are on the screen. Jeno reads over them at least ten times, particularly over Renjuns last text. "Jeno, you KNOW you don't like pasta, and you KNOW that Yn loves you. She would drop the pasta in a second if you told her you don't like it. Communication is important in these situations."

Jeno thinks about it. He's never really liked pasta. In fact, if he had to choose his least favourite food, it would probably be pasta. But he'd also hate seeing your upset expression if he told you he doesn't like it.

But Renjun is right. Communication is important, and Jeno knows you love him. Plus, if you get upset, he can always just say that it's a joke. Even if that'd mean eating pasta for the rest of his life.

When Jeno comes back to the kitchen, you've already set the table. Both of you sit down.

You nervously start to pick at your food, occasionally picking a piece of pasta up and putting it in your mouth. Every time you do, it feels like you're somehow demeaning yourself.

Jeno, across from you, also slowly starts to eat the pasta, washing each bite down with water.

Approximately five minutes pass before Jeno clears his throat. You look up at him, and he starts rambling.

"Yn... I- listen, I know that you really, really like pasta, and I'm grateful that you cook it for me so much, but I have to be honest... I don't really like it? By it I mean the pasta— I'm sorry, I didn't want to lie, but I knew how much you liked it, and I just didn't want you to be sad, because I know that you really like sharing your favourite things with me, and what sort of boyfriend would I be if I didn't like it too? A terrible one! Yn, I'm sorry, please don't break up with me, I love you, and I love your cooking— it's not you, it's the pasta. The pasta is torturing me every evening. I love being with you so much, but then I look down at my plate, and the fucking pasta is looking back at me."

You stare at him. Jeno visibly panics.

"I swear, you're the best thing to happen to me, but that pasta is the worst thing to happen to me. Every time I put pasta in my mouth an angel loses its wings. Every time it enters my digestive tract I feel my soul die a little. Also, pasta causes constipation!" Jeno finishes his ramble loudly.

You slowly put your fork down and sit up straight. Jeno prepares for the worst.

"So you're telling me..." You start, "... that you don't even like pasta?"

"I-I'm sorry... I... I don't..." Jeno hangs his head in shame.

"So you're telling me..." You continue, "... that I've been cooking pasta for nothing?"

Jeno immediately looks up at you and furrows his eyebrows. "What? No! You like pasta. You cook it because it's your favourite dish!"

You shake your head at him. "Nuh uh it's not! I cook it because it's YOUR favourite dish!"

Jeno stands up. "No! You LOVE pasta!"

You point at him and also stand up. "No, YOU love pasta!"

You both stare at each other before realisation dawns on you. Oh, fuck.

"Jeno... did you think I was making pasta because I like it?"

Jeno slowly shrugs and then asks, "Did... did you think I was eating it because I like it?"

"Yeah... I thought you loved pasta..."

"I don't really like pasta at all... Do you love pasta?"

"I fucking hate pasta."

"So, you're telling me that we've been eating pasta this whole time, thinking that the other one likes it?"

You sit down and whine, covering your face with your hands. "We are such dumbasses." You groan.

You hear Jeno giggle, and all of a sudden he's giving the top of your head a kiss. As you look up, you see him leaning back and also sitting down. "Do you wanna order Chinese?" He asks, looking up at you expectedly. You nod, and give a sigh of relief.

Pasta may have won the battle, but you've won the war.

Notes: I pooped this outta my ass😍 if it sucks dont come for me im a poor village boy trying to feed my 15 siblings by selling hay at the farmers market and cleaning shoes... writing is just this poor village boys hobby 😔 LISTEN IM FALLING OFF MY GAME I DONT EVEN KNOW ENGLISH!!!! THIS POOR VILLAGE BOY LIVES IN AN ABANDONED SHACK IN SIBERA!!!! I MINE COAL EVERY OTHER DAY AND SELL IT FOR PENNIES!!!!!!!!

[goldenlaquer]

Woahhhh if asks are open... can I ask for Gintoki trying really hard to impress this girl he likes, but everything goes to absolute shit because this is Gintama? Totally fine if you delete! I still devour all your old stuff to fill my soul with life 🥹 Never come across anyone who writes Gintama as accurately as you bebe 😘

Sakata Gintoki Headcanons:

If Gintoki made a list of pros and cons about himself, it would probably read like this:

Pro: he has a big dick. (Big dick reading as BIG DICK, in bold, all-caps. Triple underlined.)

Con: he's a perfectionist. (Con: he's a liar.)

So, it isn't all that hard to imagine impressing you would be a Herculean task for Gintoki.

Asking Kagura for advice is like shooting yourself in the foot. Gin-chan is penniless, she says matter-of-factly. No lady wants a broke, mooching, deadbeat boyfriend. A pause to let him absorb these insults, and then, Papi brought Mama three heads, she kindly tells him like it's the secret to your heart, and that's very romantic in Yato culture apparently. Which reminds Gintoki that Kagura is from a different species just as much as her barely counting as female to begin with. Well, in human culture, he could give you as many heads as you'd want— but that's bases away and he's been swinging strikes all throughout this sad, unrequited game.

Asking Shinpachi— no, no. Now, that's a lost cause.

He tries. He does. He really tries.

He tries complimenting you. Suavely slide in a comment about how your teeth looks like it could bite into hard candy, no problem. That your hair doesn't look as dry and brittle today than it did yesterday, and oh wow, your tits look... wow. Double thumbs up.

He tries paying for your meal, to show that he can provide for you, that he's not going to be the broke, mooching, deadbeat boyfriend Kagura deemed him to be. Work a few odd jobs and have all the correct bills in his normally depleted wallet, even break a comb on his hair and get dressed to the nines in his nice, regular clothes that passed the sniff inspection when he shook it out from a pile of unwashed laundry— and it's just, while on the way to his favorite family diner he invited you to, he's passing by a pachinko parlor, with all of its flashy get-rich-quick displays and bright dinging noises from within, and that was when he's suddenly sensing it... the taste of victory. Long story short, the only thing he'll end up tasting is the strawberry parfait that you paid for.

Whatever poor progress that manages to inch forward always ends straight back to the negatives. Damn the perverted stalker and her masochistic plays she forces on him. Damn the timing and whatever deity has pitted against him when you step onto the scene to the sight of him wielding a paddle as the stalker squeals happily while tied to the wooden cross. No, this isn't— he wants to tell you, but your expression has already smoothed into a carefully blank canvas before you turn your back to him and walk away to leave him to... it. No, this isn't what it looks like, he wants to scream.

In a mood of desperation and shots deep in cheap gutter sake, he'd even wrote a poem in the dead of night, detailing the color of your eyes and all the things they reminded him of, invented a new word just to make a rhyme with your name, how the sound of your voice catches in his chest when he hears it— shit if he knew anything about pretty words, he'd never wrote anything longer than a drawn penis before— and once he was done, what he did next was ball the whole sheet up, open the nearest window, and pitch it to the stars. The lamest shit he ever did in his life will be taken to his grave.

Sometimes, because his name is Gintoki, and he is the protagonist of a septic tank for low hanging fruit comedy series called 'Gintama', sometimes the whole universe is against him.

There is a two episode-length arc the occurs, but due to the time-constraints of these headcanons and the writer's own laziness, the details of it shall not be outlined, but please know it involves an exposition, conflict, rising action, a climax (and not the good kind), falling action, some explosions and a tiny grave misunderstanding that leaves you storming from the wreckage in fury and exasperation, and Gintoki catching your wrist, spinning you around to face him. Emotions and adrenaline running high, chests heaving in exertion, and seeing your face covered in soot and sweat and your eyes huge and wet, looking damn more beautiful than you have any right to be, that's when Gintoki finally decides to put his big balls to use and confess himself to you. Opening his mouth and—

Plotfully, the wind picks up, and then suddenly a wadded ball of paper rolls to hit your feet. Both you and Gintoki look down to stare at this interruption. You bend down to pick it up and unfold the ball, startling at whatever you find, snapping your eyes up to him. "Gin, your name is on here?"

Shit! Gintoki realizes, recognizing the paper now. This is the worst possible timing! My stupid shitty poem somehow found its way to the woman it was written for. And why the fuck did I sign it!

He looks left and right, searching for a vending machine to put his head through, and when there are none, he's scrubbing his face with his hand, looking at you and the damned poem he wrote that found it's way to you, as if was meant to be there. "I wrote it." He finally grumbles. "For you. Don't be creeped out."

Your eyes scan the page from top to bottom, reading. Your eyebrows shoot up, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"This is really what you think about me?" Your trembling voice barely above a whisper.

Gintoki pauses. Then nods. "Yeah. Every word."

Your expression blanks. You turn the wrinkled paper around. Gintoki squints.

Shit! Gintoki thinks. I was so drunk I never wrote anything down, I just drew a penis!

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 45!

what a week... i'm greatly enjoying all of the post-8x06 buddie fic (many more recs to come!) and took some time to revisit old favourites, which can be found in previous rec lists. enjoy!

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

all that we need | not1_2write | 26.4k | M

When Buck buys a Powerball lottery ticket he doesn't think much beyond his need for change to air up his tire. He forgets all about the ticket until word spreads that the winning ticket was sold in LA and hasn't been claimed yet and pretty much dismisses it. After all, there's no way he won the lottery. Turns out no, he really did win the Powerball, to the tune of 295 million dollars and just in time for Christmas. He's going to make sure the 118 has the best Christmas of their lives. And just maybe he'll have a good one too. idk about all of you but i do dream about winning the lottery regularly (way too often for someone who's never bought a ticket, that's for sure). this is such a lovely look at what buck would do with a whole lot of money <3

i take this magnetic force of a man | playinginthunderstorms/@playinginthunderstorms | 9k | M

Turns out, he isn’t actually afraid of commitment. He’s just afraid of committing to the wrong thing, or the wrong person. Ana, obviously, had been a mistake, because he hadn’t been ready, and he’d put other people’s expectations above his own wants and needs. With Marisol, he’s done the same thing. Moved too fast, doing what he thinks is the right thing according to who? His parents? For Chris’s benefit? Again, pushing past his own comfort, discarding any doubt because it doesn’t fit like… Like Buck. blanket rec for one of my favourite authors who has been posting incredible fics lately!! this one in particular is so beautifully written and so romantic and just so very buddie <3

if i need to rearrange my particules i will for you | thelikesofus/@thelikesofus | 7.9k | GA

Eddie catches a cold and Buck takes care of him while having a minor, non-platonic emotional crisis. this is definitely influenced by the fact that i've been ill myself but wow truly nothing hits as hard as buddie taking care of each other when one of them isn't feeling well. the bed sharing in this is so good <3

let me | facewithoutheart/@facewithoutheart | 1.6k | T

Eddie doesn't think he needs romance. Buck, respectfully, disagrees. AKA the fic where Buck picks Eddie up and kisses him breathless against a wall. and buck is so right for doing that!! i love it when buck turns eddie to jello <3 so lovely!

second child, restless child | lesbianrobin/@lesbianrobin | 23k and counting| M

how Evan and Maddie make it out of Pennsylvania, and Buck and Maddie build a family. okay so listen these past few weeks i've been doing this thing where i only rec finished fics, and every time i scroll through my ao3 history for these rec lists, i come across this one and go oh i wish i could rec this already. and then i realised wait it's my rec list i can do whatever i want, and so then i did. anyway, mind the tags for this one, but wow are you in for a treat here! i love the character dynamics (chim is brilliant in this!! and maddie!!) and i'm so so excited to see the rest of this fic unfold <3

said that i was fine, said it from my coffin | justhockey/tumblr | 7.3k | T

And it doesn’t matter that he feels like he’s dying. Like the version of himself that he’s always been is suddenly a stranger to him - just a mask he’d spent his entire life hiding behind, without ever even realising he was wearing it. It doesn’t matter that Eddie is…that he’s gay. Because he knows - as surely as he knows that the sun will rise again tomorrow - that the only person he has ever, and will ever, truly love is Buck. And Buck isn’t his to love. another blanket rec for an author who's been posting incredible fics!! this one in particular has such brilliant eddie characterisation and i just devoured it the second i got that little ao3 email hehe

there's no place like home-spun | icewhisper | 4.1k | GA

Buck has spent most of his life trying to find something to settle fidgeting hands and the restless need for a home. He found the key to the latter when he was thirteen. He finds the former in a cozy home on South Bedford Street with two of his favorite people. (AKA the Buck-crochets fic that literally no one asked for.). this fic makes me want to learn how to crochet. i am the least crafty person ever and i have like minus time but just know that if two weeks from now i'm posting about yarn and crochet hooks and whatnot, it's all thanks to this fic. i love buck who crochets so very much <3

you get your dreams for free | llovely/@butchdiaz| 14.9k | T

five times buck and eddie cuddle drunk and one time they cuddle sober. buddie bed sharing my absolute favourite. i read this late at night curled up under three blankets and it hit just right <3

[hvtqo]

🩷 headcanons —alhaitham as your bf

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre: fluff, just cutesy stuff i daydream about

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warning: nsfw at the end, afab! reader.

・❥・about:

just a bunch of hcs of how i think haitham would act as your boyfriend <33 there's some participation from kaveh as well ! (no, not a threesome or anything 😭)

↓ read under the cut ↓

❛ pre-relatioship ༉‧₊˚

haitham wouldn't be the first to give the green light in the relationship. he would definitely observe you and wait until you show signs of liking him, but he would do so very subtly, and probably wouldn't make the first step directly himself.

but i do feel like he'd be the type to make up excuses to be around you. and you'd be confused because he wouldn't be overt about it either. like a cat just being there... silently demanding attention.

he'd be specially attracted to your intellect. he'd probably ask you questions about your preferred research topics or engage in discussion with you. like sure he can think you're fine asf, but i think he'd fall for your way of seeing things and your intelligence.

you'd notice he likes you likes you when you see him more disposed to listen and learn from you than to contradict you. he's such a contrarian, sometimes just even assuming the opposite point of view from others for simple amusement, not because he actually believes what he's arguing for. but with you he gets to shut up sometimes lol

random gifts left over your desk without you asking for them. a book you've been meaning to buy but never have the chance to. the flowers you saw the other day and thought were beautiful. a keychain that reminded him of you. anything you casually comment that you'd like to have. it pops up.

and then you pretend you don't know it was him who bought those things for you. you left your desk for a minute to go for a coffee, or to the bathroom, or whatever. that's when he comes in and leaves a cute silver necklace there. it has a little ornament in the shape of the moon, which you've mentioned you adore the sight of. he doesn't really get why you find a generic spatial rock so amusing even though you've explained to him it's about the poetry and the symbolism of it, not only it's function or form in space.

he just ended up accepting that you love the moon and the stars and gave into it, associating you with them. before you come back he leaves. you find the necklace and smirk to yourself. you know it was him who got it for you, of course. the next day, you wear it proudly but don't mention it to him.

in fact, you both don't even talk to one another; the only recognition he gets for his gift is a gentle glance across the room. the silver moon glistens over your chest. you smile. he lowers his glance back to his book, and you don't notice the tiny smirk on his face after that.

of course, this subtle tension builds up over the weeks. i feel like haitham, even though he wouldn't directly make the first move, would get impatient. he'd probably scheme a way for you to end up asking him out. you'd definitely fall for it without knowing it was his plan all along to make you confess first.

another thing is that he doesn't come up with all this by himself. he's got you fooled though because he loves the praise and the light in your face when you realize he's responsible for everything.

but no, he's a liar. he definitely asks kaveh and the boys for advice. actually, all of them come up with very specific ways to win you over. kaveh is a romantic and he's always making sure alhaitham doesn't fuck up lol

“just flowers?” a grimace settles on kaveh's face. “yes” alhaitham says, “isn't that what everyone wants? a bouquet? the classic thing?”

“no” kaveh scoffs. “it's not about the flowers, it's about the intention. anyone can go up to her and give her a bouquet of flowers. also, what's special about a bouquet? the flowers will wither in a week. that can be representative of your relationship. be more original.”

so he brings you a bunch of plants instead that you can hang on your ceiling in your room. it looks quite decorative. now everytime you walk to your room and see the hanging plants, you think of him.

he also sends kaveh to ask you things. like what you're into and what type of person you'd date. and like you know he's asking for him, but you play along.

you even tease them a bit.

“i'm into people who can dance” you confess. “it's just so sexy to see a man who can move. why are you asking though? you're not planning on taking me out, are you?” you rise a brow.

“oh, no, not me” kaveh giggles nervously. later in the day he finds haitham scrolling on his phone at the couch. kaveh takes his phone away, which obviously upsets him, and shuts off his headphones.

he pulls him up, making him stand. that's when haitham notices the music. he gets a little nervous but won't show it. “what are you doing?” he asks defensively.

“teaching you how to move” kaveh replies, and the lesson begins.

❛ while dating ༉‧₊˚

so i feel like after the ordeal that making you his girlfriend was, he'd be the type to grasp onto you and not let you go. not easily, at least.

he's lasting. like if you don't end up marrying this man, at least he's gonna be one of the longest relationships of your life.

no over-the-top displays of affection, though. the subtlety continues. and it secures the duration and firmness of your bond. this man's the type to do rather than say. the way he pampers you is through the little things.

like for example, he keeps perfect track of your cycle. even if you're not regular. he knows when you're ovulating (you get it 😌) and when you're extra sensitive because your periods coming.

“did it come?” he asks casually. you frown, because you've never mentioned it. “yes. just this morning” you guess what he's talking about. “good.” he replies. “how do you know?” you rise a brow. he rests his eyes on you. “two days ago you cried because a bee stung me accidentally and died. you cried because it ‘sacrificed itself for me’. and you buried it. under plants.”

“oh”

“yeah”

of course, he also takes care that you have everything you need, because you can be a little forgetful at times. so you go to the store and while you're wandering the halls in search for candies and chocolate, he grabs a pack of pads and tea and face masks and stuff for you to relax during this time.

ON THE OTHER HAND, he's not the one to easily accept gifts from you. he appreciates them though it's just that he's the type to think of effectiveness and utility when he buys you stuff, while you only buy him things that you find cute or that remind you of him.

like you know you could get him a cute green sweater and he'd be like “i dont need this”, and you'd roll your eyes (he'd wear it nonetheless, because he loves the texture).

so over time you learn to stick to gift him things that have a purpose. books that you know he'd find interesting, perhaps, and that you've read yourself so that you can share something. utensils and tools and stuff that “works”. although you still bring him the occasional trinket or plushie at times.

alhaitham is not a morning person. most often than not you're the one cooking breakfast and cleaning up at early hours. but whenever it happens that he wakes up first and surprises you with breakfast, you appreciate it. he's not the best cook either but he's learned to prepare your favorite dishes perfectly.

i hc you spending time together doing separate tasks or being in silence. he'd be researching, writing, at one side of the room, and you'd be playing videogames or giggling at tiktoks.

“lmao you” you show him a random video, and he glances at it slightly. not a sign of amusement on his face, but you perceive a tiny smirk once you pull back.

also. he helps you with school all the time. you have an essay to deliver in two days and you haven't done a thing? he'll write it for you. *but* this is not free labour. you're gonna have to do something for him as well.

you bargain with him successfully. he writes your essay and you say you'll give him a surprise. the surprise? a candy. he's unimpressed at first, but he shakes his head and smiles and says it's exactly what he was expecting in return.

not really though, you know it. you're just teasing him. it's not like he's some sort of fairy that you can bring candies to and he'll grant your every wish.

i mean he kind of is, but no. so you end up actually paying him back some other way.

and surprise ! your essay gets the best note. alright, it's not like he did all the work. of course, most ideas are yours, he just wrote them eloquently. the teacher praises you. you feel a little bad because you're basically lying but haitham assures you to calm down. he's a scribe nonetheless, and you basically “dictated” the essay to him.

so you have this little thing that you're absolutely in love with life's casualties. whenever you saw a dog passing by you'd scream “dog!” excitedly and sometimes walk up to it and pet it, interrupting haitham mid-sentence (or yourself).

now whenever you're down or distracted at something he's the one to point “dog.” in a lower tone at you. and you rise your glance, see doggy passing by, and you smile, and feel better. “aw, dog” you repeat.

❛ nsfw ༉‧₊˚

he's very touchy, ok? that's his love language. like you're cooking and he casually comes up behind you and grabs your waist, hugs you, and slowly swings you from side to side, very subtle. he lays his chin over your shoulder and watches whatever you've got on the stove.

and then he leaves without saying a word, and you feel the coldness left behind by his absence, making you want him even more.

hes also the type to absentmindedly touch you when you're relaxing. perhaps its even become a form of stimming for him.

you'd have your legs resting on his lap as he reads a passage of his book to you, and you have your eyes close, and he caresses your leg with the other hand.

he's most often than not the one to begin things. he does it that way, making you think you're the one throwing yourself at him, but in fact he's been heating you up in subtle ways the whole day... with little glances and touches and even words.

lmao like this man is conditioning you

like over time you understand the cues and now whenever he does a move like that casually you think to yourself. “oh” and you surprise him later wearing a cute little set of lingerie for him. now who's got the upper hand?

like i feel you've got all of these secret games between you that others don't know about. like this one. who'll give in first? who'll fall first for it? it's so fun.

sometimes you take it as far as making a move in public. you know others don't understand your little cues, it's just between you and him, but you love to see him get a bit shy in front of everyone.

OF COURSE, haitham is a curious type of person. if he's gonna do something, he's gonna do it well. he's not afraid or ashamed of experimenting in the bedroom. so you can come up with all sorts of ideas and he'll probably give them a try.

he's a dom. like any type of dom you want. soft dom, hard dom, whatever. you communicate very openly with him. but it's hard for him to give up control. whenever he accepts to let you dom he's teasing you the whole time.

this man likes being in control ok that's why he's so secretive and stuff. let him be

i feel like he's got a lot of stamina but he gets so sleepy. like im sure he sleeps a lot. just in general not like just after sex.

he can be rough too. and emotional. hes a tongue type of guy. in many ways; he doesn't just love licking, he also loves conversation. praising. degrading. teasing. just words.

he'd be constantly paying attention to your body language to see what you like and dont. he becomes very communicative about this so he's prompting you to speak, approve, and tell him directly if you like something or not.

he loves the sight when you're on top though. just. your body over his. and the way the sweat rolls down your neck into your collarbones. he grasps at your thighs roughly. you feel his fingers burying. and he loves the way you bounce. he won't admit it though, but he does stare in awe when you don't see.

he also won't ask you but he's often hoping you'll give him. like also seeing you on your knees, mouth open, ready for him... he looks forward to it. and you know he loves this part so you don't make it so available to him.

he loves you biting and scratching, but specially biting. he loves the tears rolling down your eyes out of pleasure and the blush on your cheeks.

thrusts are deep and rough. he goes in all the fucking way, deep. he doesn't like doing things mildly anyway. there's also a specific rhythm, but he likes taking unpredictable variation and will sometimes begin thrusting really fast and hard just when you were expecting a slower movement.

he's always ready for aftercare as well. like i just feel like he's a very organized and prepared dude, so he wouldn't do things out of the blue. whenever you start things he's already got everything there for when you finish.

and then you cuddle to sleep and you wake up the next morning... and he's horny again. he's also the type to appreciate some cockwarming after the act.

he's got a high sex drive when it comes to you 😔

oh also i don't feel like you're his first but he's definitely not that experience when you start dating. he learns on the way and through research lol but i don't feel like he's got that high of a body count. NOT LIKE KAVEH AT LEAST.

ta-da~ you've reach the end! if you've come this far thanks for reading <3 reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated ! let me know your thoughts or any other character you want me to write about 🩷🤍

[daengtokki]

Hey 👋🏻 saw your recent post about wanting to write about seungmin fluff, and I honestly could use some fluff to feel better myself so I wanted to suggest a noona!reader x seungmin fluff where they both like each other (are close friends) but reader thinks they only see her as a sister and not romantically (and vice versa) until the other members convince seungmin to confess and well the rest is up to you really :) personally I feel that he’s the type to sing to their crush or maybe bring them a cute plushie, inviting them on a coffee date, etc

Whether or not you choose to write this, I hope you feel better~ ❤️‍🩹

𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹

©ˢᶜᵃʳˡᵉᵗᵇˡᵒˢˢᵒᵐ

────────────────────✦

Kim Seungmin/noona!reader

wc: ~5k

rating: flufffff -`♡´- (friends to lovers/idiots to lovers ( thank you @wulfgaang ) Felix and IN plotting, music for you to listen to while you read)

comments: I'm sorry this took so long anon! I started writing and just kept on writing and I couldn't stop so I eventually had to force myself to stop. I tried to edit a little but uuuhhh bshxbhscs

──────────────♡───♡─✦

He's so bad at writing a text to you that doesn't sound...off. He hates sounding too casual, which is exactly how he should be sounding, and how you expect him to sound. But he hates it. He huffs and slides down into the couch, eyes flit up every so often to the open space in front of him.

Seungmin catches sight of himself in the mirror across the room, then he sees Felix eyeballing him. And then Felix smiles.

"What?" He pulls himself up and folds his knees to his chest, looks down at the message thread on his screen...rereads your last text.

I like your hair the shade it is right now

It's nothing. It's a benign little observation on your part, but his stomach swirled the moment he read it. Now he can't think of what to say back. His thumbs freeze right above the screen, and his eyes go blurry as he stares.

Seungmin doesn't have time to reply, though, because he sees you typing again. The little dots bounce around for what seems like forever, and then they stop. Felix moves closer and sits down next to him. Then you're typing again. Typing and typing...

"Are you talking to your noona?" he whispers and tries to peek at his phone, but Seungmin pulls away.

"She's not my noona."

"Well, she never texts me. What are you guys talking about?"

"Nothing..."

"Exactly! You two always seem to talk about nothing...every day."

Finally, a message comes through. And it's not nearly as long as the length of time it took to type.

are you free for lunch today? Probably not, but I'm cold and want to get some yukgaejang

No, he's not exactly free, but he's going to make himself free. Seungmin hasn't had the chance to see you face to face for almost a month. Yes, almost a month. Three weeks and three days, actually. And you were only in the building for a few hours that day, because you travel too much for work. Seungmin hates that. And he hates wishing you had a position that didn't travel at all. It's always in the opposite direction that he's going.

"I'm breaking our lunch plans." Seungmin says it so flatly and definitively.

"Fine. Only because I know you're making plans with her. Maybe ask her out properly this time, before she leaves again."

"I'm not going to ask her anything... she'll laugh at me."

Felix has no reply for that, but the stinkface he gives Seungmin says everything for him.

♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

You stare at yourself in the mirror for far too long. The way you think you look won't change, and the way you're dressed isn't going to magically make him fall in love with you. Besides, it's cold out, and he'll pick on you if you dress more for looks than warmth.

His text message comes through, finally. You feel bad asking him, because you know he's busy, but he loves to eat and it always seems to be the best way to get him alone.

I just have to change, I'll be ready when you get here

And it's stupid, but you like driving him around; the way he plays with the music, and the way he sits back in the passenger seat and stares right at you. He always let's you know when you pass a dog going on a walk, and he loves to tell you that you drive too fast. Or too slow.

There was hardly any traffic on the way in, so you sit and stare at your phone for several minutes before texting again. You're certain he's ready—it doesn't take long to throw on a pair of sweatpants and run out the door, but getting here too fast and seeming too eager makes you feel silly. You rub at your warm cheeks and sigh, wondering if you're mentally prepared to see him again, need to kiss him, do nothing, say nothing, and then part ways for another few weeks.

A soft knock on the window makes you jump, and when you look to your right, he's there, smiling and waving.

"Sorry, I was just about to text."

Seungmin climbs in and stares at you for a moment. "I saw you pull up, are you okay?"

"I'm okay..."

"You looked worried."

He's too observant. and he's clever as hell (sometimes). You're surprised he hasn't figured you out yet, but...he's probably just avoiding it if he does know. He doesn't want you to feel awkward. Seungmin is too young for you, you think. You have no business feeling this way about someone a decade your junior, and he's not going to be interested when he's surrounded by so many pretty girls his age.

"You still look worried." He buckles his seatbelt and adjusts himself so he can look directly at you.

"Uh...just jetlag probably. And I haven't eaten yet."

"We better hurry then."

You look him over quickly as you shift gears and check the gps on your screen. He's not in his usual overly comfortable sweats, instead he's wearing cargo pants, and just a t-shirt under his North Face jacket. You hope he's warm enough, but when he reaches forward and bumps up the heat, you know he probably isn't.

♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

"It's gonna be too spicy," he smiles and watches you take a bite. A cautious bite, because he's right, but you won't admit it. You like the spice, and he likes watching your face turn red as you slowly make your way through the bowl.

His chopsticks dive into it and grab a much bigger bite than yours.

"Get your own," you shoo him away and sip your tea, trying not to be too obvious that your whole body is on fire. With the spice, and with thoughts of him. His lips are red and swollen from the little bit of heat in his food, from the heel of his hand rubbing at them. This is about the time when your thoughts get overwhelming...so overwhelming, you think you could confess everything all in one breath—his big dewy eyes, flushed cheeks (both from the food, of course), big t-shirt hanging way too precariously from his shoulder.

"Too spicy," he chases it with his rice and scrunches up his face, "How can you eat so much of it?"

"Punishment."

"Punishment??" Seungmin looks at the text on his phone. It's not Felix this time. Felix has already sent several, asking him if he's made it official yet. This time it's Jeongin, no doubt out to lunch with him, acting up as well.

did you dress nice for her?

"Why would you need to be punished?" Seungmin blushes as soon as the words come out of his mouth. It's not just the soup making him so warm. He glances up at you and tries not to smile too awkwardly.

"Where should I begin...being lazy, breaking plans with friends, ghosting bad dates instead of telling them I'm not interested."

"Do you go on a lot of bad dates?" He sits up and clears his throat, "I mean...dates. You never mentioned that before."

His phones buzzes again. This time it's Felix.

simp

A quick glance around the restaurant reveals he and Jeongin are not actually there and listening in on them, but he wouldn't be surprised.

"I wouldn't say a lot. Uh...I'm always very careful, don't worry."

Seungmin nods and struggles to keep his face neutral. He's not concerned, he's jealous. "You're not lazy, you work very hard."

"Just too much. Sometimes I want to change jobs, stay home more. Use my apartment."

"You should," he replies so fast that you stop eating and look at him.

"I should?"

"If that's what you want, uhm...you should always do what feels right." He busies his mouth with his drink, taking slow sips and peeking at you over the rim. "I'm glad we work at the same company, though, otherwise I would have never met you." He wonders if that was too much, so he stares stupidly at the chopsticks in his hand.

"No, we probably wouldn't have met. And you're a—"

He looks up at you before you finish.

"Uh..." you should say it, you should say anything as long as it's a little bit romantic. There are so many things you've thought of already, and you have said them in your head...during your endless daydreams. When you're trying to sleep and can't, or when you open your eyes in the morning and pretend he's there in front of you, sleeping soundly.

"...you're a good friend, Seungmin."

Idiot.

♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Another outing with Seungmin, and another tick on your failure box. You felt awkward, and you probably made him feel awkward. You can’t relax around him anymore. Maybe he does really know that you like him, and he just doesn't want to ghost you the way you ghost your dates. He's too good and sweet to do that, and he's too good for you.

A little part of you wants to text one of the others; one of his dormmates, his closest friends, just to see if asking him out would be a horrible mistake. But you can't. If the answer yes, it's a mistake, and then they tell him? They would absolutely tell him. You might as well mess this up on your own.

♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

"That's what you wore?" Jeongin looks at him, eyes narrow, lips pursed.

He and Felix make it home first, and they both look at him anxiously when he walks through the door. Well, Jeongin looks at him anxiously, and then tsks at the casualness of his outfit.

"It's less casual than normal."

"It's not going to convince her that you'll go all out for her, though. You gotta give her your best!"

"I don't think my outfit is going to make her suddenly fall in love with me."

"No, but if you tell her how you feel..."

"I'm not ruining what little friendship we have."

"But—"

"No."

"Kim Seungmin!" Felix yells. "If you don't talk to her like a big boy, I'll be forced to tell her myself."

"You wouldn't...please don't say anything, Yongbok. Please..."

"She likes you...maybe even more than you like her."

"How would you even know that, has she told you herself?" Seungmin finally pulls his jacket off, kicks off his shoes, and sulks to the kitchen for a drink.

"No, but I've had to sit through more than one meal with you two... dancing around each other, blushing if you end up sitting shoulder to shoulder, her sneaking little glances when you're not looking."

"She does?" he sips his milk in an attempt to get the lingering spice out of his mouth. "She looks at me?"

"Stares at you. Watches every little move you make. It's annoying, and very cute. I wish someone would look at me like that.”

"Sing her a song!" Jeongin pipes up from behind his monitor. "Invite her to dance practice, keep her around after everyone leaves...sing for her."

"That is..." Felix thinks. Seungmin rolls his eyes and groans loudly in the background. "...very cheesy, but I don't think it's a terrible idea."

"Sunday! I'll even invite her to come watch, you just have to do the rest." Jeongin is very proud of himself for thinking all of this up. "I know her, too...remember? I'll make sure she's in town, and you figure out what song you want to woo her with.”

Seungmin hates the idea. He’s already starting to get nervous eating in front of her. Now he has to practice? And sing? Sing something romantic? The logistics of all of this are escaping him, too. How will they be left alone there? If someone sees them—him singing, her standing awkwardly until he finishes. He already wants to climb into a hole just thinking about it.

“Close to You!” Jeongin cups his cheeks in his hands and smiles. “She blooms beautifully in your dreams, when you close your eyeesss,” he sways back and forth.

“No, no I’m not doing it. And you can’t make me.”

“We can’t, but we can still invite her to come on Sunday. Tell her we have some new stuff to work on, she’ll enjoy it.”

♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

You can’t say no to Jeongin, ever. He was so excited to invite you to dance practice, and you’ll actually be home, so…why not. No pressure. It’s getting to see Seungmin from a distance, or maybe not from a distance. And you love watching them act up together. Seungmin invited you once, a while ago, but you couldn’t make it, and for some reason he never asked again.

But seeing him twice in the same week is a nice treat. You just hope he’s glad to see you there.

-

Han sees you and greets you first. Then you see Changbin and Felix by a snack table, bickering about something. Felix sees you out of the corner of his eye, waves, and smirks a little. He mouths something to you, and you think he says you look nice…so you just smile back. You did put in some extra effort this morning, but you still tried to be casual. Seungmin likes casual, and he told you once, a long time ago, that he liked your style.

One of the entranceways seem like the perfect place to observe for now. Nobody is here, and you’re a little nervous about being in anyone’s way. You lean back against the wall, making yourself as small as possible, and look for Jeongin. But he’s nowhere.

Seungmin, though, is within view. His back is to you, and he’s way on the other side of the room, but you know it’s him—you would know his back and shoulders just by touch if it came to that. And you really wish it would come to that. The rest of him is swimming in a pair of dark gray sweatpants.

You hold your breath and wait for him to turn.

“Noona! Hi hi.” You jump out of your skin. It’s Jeongin.

“Innie!” You punch his shoulder, and he laughs. “Quit sneaking.”

“I wasn’t sneaking, you were just too busy staring.” He looks to Seungmin, who is now turned your way. And walking in your direction.

“Staring at what?,” you say as you continue to stare. He gets closer and closer. You can feel the distance closing between you. It’s getting warmer in the room.

“So it is true…Felix is right.”

“Huh? What is Felix right about?”

"Is Innie bothering you?" Seungmin says. He doesn’t look at you, though, just at Jeongin.

“Hmmm…I think I’m being called.”

“I didn’t hear anything,” Seungmin looks behind him, behind you, and then back to Jeongin. “Better go, though.”

He looks irritated when you’re finally able to lift your gaze, but not really irritated—just like he’s holding back an eye roll. Seungmin folds his arms and hugs his hoodie to his chest, and then he finally…finally, looks at you. His face softens. You could melt, but you try to keep your composure.

This wasn’t always an issue. Seungmin always makes you feel warm and stupid when he’s around, and he has since the day you met him, but it used to be easier to be relaxed around him. And fun. You figured this would pass and you’d realize you were just crushing on him; lusting after him—daydreaming about kissing him and his braces, undressing him slowly in your mind and wondering exactly what he looked like under all of those clothes. But it never passed. It grew and grew into this monster that sits on your chest and takes your breath away.

“YN?” He crouches down so he can get your attention. “Noona?” He whispers. Seungmin doesn’t usually call you Noona, not like everyone else does. He calls you by your name, because you asked him to. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t like that…just needed to snap you out of your daydream.”

“I wasn’t…hmm, I’m sorry. Hi Seungmin.”

“Hi,” his face falls a little. “Are you staying, or just passing through?”

“I’m staying.“

“Good. It’s chilly in here, I thought you might want this.” He hugs his hoodie closer to his chest and smiles. "Gotta keep the heat down so we don’t pass out, I guess.”

“Will you be mad if I take it home and forget to give it back?”

His giggle makes your head swim. “No, not at all. Actually…”

Before he can finish, Chan calls out and the floor starts to clear. He looks back, and then to you again. “Hold that thought,” he unrolls it, shakes it, and throws it around you like a cape before running off.

The scent of him overwhelms you, and your head is swimming again. Everything is swimming. Now you just want to curl up in your bed with it and fall asleep.

-

For the first time in years, Seungmin is nervous standing on the dance floor. He knows he’ll be fine—everything will fall into place once things get started. But if what Felix said is true, your eyes are on him, and only him. All the time. But you must be good at doing it only when Seungmin isn't looking. He has never once caught you staring.

He glances around the room, swings his arms, rolls his shoulders. You’re there in the same spot, his hoodie still draped around you. And yes, you’re watching him.

-

The time goes by fast, even though you’re just a spectator, and you know it’s because you might not see him again for a while once this ends. You’ll go back to your casual texts, hopefully a little each day. You’d lose your mind if you had to go longer than that without hearing from him.

The more you think about it, the more you think getting the confession over with might be the best idea. You can’t exactly go on like this forever. The rejection will crush you, but with time, you’ll have to move on. That’s just what happens. The hurt goes away, eventually.

“Hey you,” Felix pops up next you and gets your attention. “You’re staring really hard. Really really hard.”

“What?” You finally pull yourself away from Seungmin, “I was? Wait…what?”

“Seungmin is going to have a hole burnt into him if you keep that up.”

You feel flushed, even though Seungmin was right about the cold, “please tell me only you saw me.”

“Probably, everyone else seems pretty preoccupied. But be careful. Unless you plan on confessing.”

Is Felix reading your mind? You bury your face in your hand and sigh.

“Don’t look so sad. Keep looking…carefully.”

You’re an idiot. And you daydream too much. Your life is nothing but work, sleep, and a constant string of thoughts about being with him.

“Felix?” You stop him just as he starts to walk away. He smiles at you, There is usually a twinkle in his eye, but it’s even more intense right now.

“Yes, noona?”

Seungmin turns and makes eye contact, but looks away almost immediately.

“Nothing, never mind.”

“Oh hey, don’t leave too early. Innie and I have something we need to give to you after we finish up.”

♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Everyone left. But you’re sitting on the couch, curled up in a ball, warm under Seungmin’s hoodie. Felix said stay, so you’re staying, but you don’t know what he and Jeongin could possibly have for you.

You wonder if Seungmin will come back for his hoodie. Watching him walk out of the room was a little bit heartbreaking, because he didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t wave. He didn’t look your way.

-

“What am I supposed to do now? You have her waiting in there, alone, and she doesn’t know wh”

“Felix told her we had something for her, and we do.” Jeongin holds his arms up to Seungmin, palms up, like he’s presenting him. “It’s you.”

Seungmin buries his face in his hands and groans, “you still want me to go in there and sing and embarrass myself?”

“You don’t have to sing!”

“Okay, so just embarrass myself.”

Felix shakes his head, “please please pleeaaase, trust me. I’m going to scream at the top of my lungs if you don’t go sit on that couch with her right now. That’s all. Just sit there. Whatever happens after that is up to the two of you.”

“Fine. Just because I don’t want her sitting in there by herself.

-

The door clicks. You know it’s him as soon as his arm swings the door open.

“Seungmin?”

“Hi. What are you doing in here all alone?”

“Waiting…”

“Waiting for what?” He stands in front of you, hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweatpants. Light gray this time—he’s showered and changed since you’ve been sitting here.

“I’m not sure.”

“Me, maybe. I’m sorry I left before without saying anything.”

“It’s okay,” you smile. He’s here now, so it is okay.

Seungmin sits down next to you. He’s quiet, and he has no idea what to say now. Maybe he should just sing, because he would at least be able to succesfully string some words together. The silence and the echo here makes it even harder to speak, but at least he knows you’re truly alone together. This usually only happens in your car—windows up, music playing. “What’s your favorite song?”

“My favorite…Stray Kids song, or my favorite favorite?”

“Favorite favorite.”

You weren’t prepared for this, but you don’t have to think very hard. “In Your Eyes…” you look at him, wait, wonder why he wants to know, “by Peter Gabriel.” You played it in the car with him before, and it took a lot to keep from telling him everything right then and there as it played. But you didn’t. It played, uninterrupted, and both of you were silent the entire five and a half minutes.

“I remember that song.”

“You do?”

Seungmin nods and laughs, “it’s on half of your playlists. Yeah, I know it.”

“Why do you wanna know?”

Silence again. Seungmin is 100% winging this, but he does know where he’s going with it. Because he does want to sing for you.

“So I can practice it.”

You shift and look at him, his hoodie slips off of your shoulders and onto the couch. It takes several seconds of thinking, of gears starting to turn in your brain, and of your eyes jumping back and forth between his before you start to put a few pieces together.

“…and sing it for you,” Seungmin looks down at his fidgeting hands, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. You not replying immediately is stretching out like hours. How can he make this less awkward now? He can sing for you and not make it romantic, right? Just a nice gesture between good friends. Not that song, though. He wasn’t even sure you would choose a romantic song.

No, he’s in it and he’s not getting back out. “Please say something.”

“You wanna…sing for me?”

“I’m not very good at…talking about my feelings otherwise.”

“You can talk to me. You can talk to me about anything."

Seungmin leans forward and rubs at his face, and he buries it there in his hands. It’s a bad time to start losing his nerve, he’s too far in. “I can’t.” He feels the couch shift as you get closer, just close enough that your knee hits his. “It’s a lot.”

“It is a lot. I know.”

“You do?”

You want to grab him and make him look at you, but your body won’t allow it. It takes another long silence to finally get some of his attention. His cheeks are red, and his eyes are big and nervous.

“Yeah, too much to keep carrying around by myself.”

He doesn’t seem to be following you, because he still looks worried, upset. But you’re not helping—you weren’t ready for this, and you have no idea what to say. You’re bad at this kind of talk, too.

“Am I making you uncomfortable? And I messing everything up?”

“No, Minnie…I’m very comfortable sitting here with you right now. I could sit here with you all night.”

Now, finally, he turns and gives you his full attention, red faced and serious. His bottom lip is catching up, because he won’t stop biting down on it. You reach out and poke his chin, “don’t do that.”

He licks his lips and forces himself to stop, but now he’s not talking again. There’s eye contact, at least. And it’s intense…Seungmin doesn’t know how intense his stare can be. Maybe you’re supposed to finish this—he did start, and it was a pretty bold start.

“We should—”

A clatter outside makes both of you jump. Maybe you’re not as alone as you think, and in that case, you’re a little bit uncomfortable. It makes you feel better about what you were about to say.

“…we should go somewhere else to talk.”

♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

It took no convincing for him to follow you closely on the walk outside. Silent. And inside the car, cold and dark, still silence. You could talk here—you’ve shared a lot in this car already, but it doesn’t feel right. You just want to take him home, get him warm, make him comfortable.

Seungmin is nervous. You know exactly what he was trying to tell you back there on the couch, but what you don’t know is how intensely he really feels, and if he’s willing to act on it the way that you are. You don’t want to risk scaring him away, but your desire for him has already reached its boiling point. Every minute without acting on it now is killing you.

He’s huddled down deep in his coat. You finally let out a sigh of relief when he leans forward to adjust the radio, and then he turns up the heat.

“Where are we going?” His voice is small and timid, not like him at all. It’s like his little bit of confession, the emotional exertion of finally telling you he maybe wants more, kicked his ass.

“My apartment.”

“I’ve never been to your apartment before.”

“Is that okay?

He sits up, and you can see him look at you out of the corner of your eye. “Yeah, of course.”

-

It’s already warm inside. The few lights you keep on while you’re out gives the small space a comfortable glow. It’s even better with a view of him shaking out of his coat, and carefully taking off his shoes. The apartment almost feels—

“…it’s cozy in here.” He says. You watch him walk further in, just a few steps, and look around. “And quiet, and warm.” The smile on his face is reserved, “just like you.”

“Like me?”

He nods, and his smile grows a little more. “Yes, you’re quiet, usually. And you’re always warm. And I’m sure you’re very cozy, too.”

“That sounds more like you.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been called warm…but—”

“I guess you’re only like that with me.”

You can tell he’s relaxing. He laughs, smiles fully, pushes his hair away from his eyes. More importantly, he walks further into your apartment, looks around again, and then sits on the couch.

“Do you want some tea? You’re probably starving. I can order something, there are a few places close by that are fast.”

“Yes, and yes…but there’s no hurry…uhm, let’s have some tea.”

-

“It’s probably too hot, be careful.” You finally sit down next to him. Close. Closer than you were earlier, and definitely closer than you’ve ever been out to dinner, or lunch, or anywhere.

Seungmin turns toward you. His face is right there, inches from yours. His eyes and his lips, his breath. His eyes are moving between yours and jumping everywhere, like he’s taking all of you in from this distance. Part of you wants to back up, because you haven’t seen in a mirror in hours. But you can’t. He’s a magnet. You think (hope) he wants you to keep pushing forward, and that’s exactly what you do.

It’s as satisfying as you knew it would be. He’s as soft as you imagined, and as sweet. It’s a shy kiss on his part, but you kind of expected that, as well. You like it like that, because he’s taking his time. But you also need a little more, so you take over.

Your hand slides across his neck. He lets you pull him closer, and he doesn’t shy away when you open up and bite down gently on his lower lip. A soft sound escapes him and floats right down your throat, and it makes your knees shake against his.

A knock on the door interrupts right as you feel his hand graze your leg. Seungmin lets go and pulls back, just enough to open his eyes and look at you. “Thank you for getting me dinner,” he says, and he leans into you again until your lips touch.

“…Seungmin.”

“Hm?”

You don’t even know what you were going to say—if you were going to say anything at all. It just feels good saying his name out loud.

“Mm…nothing.”

“Was that okay? The kiss, I mean. I know my braces probably get in the way.”

“No, they don’t…not at all. It was very okay.”

He kisses you again, this time with more confidence. You can feel his smile grow when you grab his arm and pull it around you. And you can feel his braces brush against your lips. He notices, and jumps back.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’ve waited a long time for this.” You pull him back, and set your lips on his cheek.

“How long?”

“Oh…lemme think,” you pretend to think for a moment, but you don’t need to. You remember exactly when you first saw him and wanted to kiss him. “It was October, last year.”

“That long? Why didn’t I know? It feels like everyone else knew.”

“Nobody else knew. I never told anyone, I thought it was silly, maybe a little inappropriate. You just turned twenty when we met.” You pull away now, and sigh as you fall back into the couch. It sounds even worse when you hear it out loud.

“I don’t think it’s silly. I’m old enough to know what I want.” Seungmin grabs your hand and pulls you back up to him.

“So why me?”

Seungmin thinks, “because you’re cozy and warm,” he smiles, “and you make me laugh.”

“That’s it?”

He laughs again, and it’s so sweet and relaxed and melodic. “I’m comfortable with you, and you’re always there when I need you.”

“That’s nice to hear, considering you don’t act like you need anyone…ever.”

Seungmin goes quiet. He always puts up a strong front, because he doesn’t really know how to act any other way. He's not as cold and quiet as he appears on the outside, and he tries very hard to never come off that way to you.

“Just assume I always do.”

“Always what?”

“Always need you.”

[genevievefangirl]

Gen's Top 100 DBDA Fics - PART 8

For all caveats/rules/backstory, please read the Master Post

tell the saint of lost souls where to find me By: haledamage @haledamage Rating: T Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Protective Charles Rowland Summary: When Edwin has a nightmare, he doesn't wake up screaming. Charles didn't understand it, not completely, not until Port Townsend. He didn't know what chased Edwin through his dreams. Some days, he wishes he still didn't know. Not as often as he wishes Edwin didn't. Or: one time Edwin has a nightmare, and one time he doesn't. My Notes: Sometimes it is nice when fics bend canon and this is a great example because the boys having nightmares is a great concept. Featuring CUDDLES!

The Ballad of Saving Graces By: Bythoseburningembers Rating: T Tags: Protective Charles Rowland, Hurt Edwin Payne, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst Summary: Charles feels guilty that Edwin was dragged to Hell. Edwin is afraid Charles might leave him for a better existence elsewhere. Crystal wants it on record that she finds them both idiots. All of this is fixable. Then they get kidnapped by pirates, and for Charles, it might be too late to make things better. Again. My Notes: The boys are kidnapped by pirate ghosts. Do you need to know anything else? Okay fine Charles is also super protective and it's great.

The Case of the Acridid Sprites By: thefinalriotxx Rating: T Tags: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Protective Charles Rowland, Major Character Injury Summary: If Charles could breathe, the air would have rushed from his lungs on impact. If Charles had a heart, it would have broken free from his chest, cracking ribs and hollowing out the space where the core of him was kept. But Charles hadn’t breathed air in over thirty years, and his heart had long decayed, along with the rest of him. So why did it feel like his body was being torn apart? My Notes: What can I say? I like fics where Edwin is hurt and Charles has to save him, sue me! This is another great entry in that genre featuring worried Charles hitting the books.

The Case of the Couples Retreat By: juliasfanart @juliasfanart Rating: T Tags: Slow Burn, First Kiss, Couples Therapy Summary: It should have been just another case for the Dead Boy Detective Agency - a pair of missing ghosts to find - if not for the fact that they had to investigate a luxury resort dedicated to couples counselling... for ghosts. And what better way for Edwin and Charles to infiltrate it than to pretend to be just another couple needing to revive their relationship? A brilliant idea according to Charles, but for Edwin it might have been more than he can chew... My Notes: This is my biggest fluff recommendation! Technically it is a case fic, but the case is pretty loose and the fic is more about them sorting out their issues in therapy (but in a fun way I swear!)

The Case of the Looping Kiss By: elisasmileygirl @hey-its-elisa Rating: T Tags: Getting Together, Case Fic, First Kiss, Fluff, Romantic Fluff Summary: When Charles decides to confess his feelings to Edwin, it makes Edwin the happiest he’s ever felt which is a good thing…right? Crystal and Niko now have to figure out why the boys are stuck in a time loop of their first kiss and how to get them out of it. My Notes: Such a creative use of a time loop! Their first kiss here is so adorable.

The case of the warlock By: TheRamblingsOfaMadWoman Rating: G Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Protective Charles Rowland, Protective Edwin Payne Summary: The gang come across a warlock. Charles is quite taken with him. Edwin is distrustful. Whose instinct is right? **Charles hurts Edwin My Notes: Charles being forced to hurt Edwin via possession and then later banging on a magic wall demanding Edwin let him out so Charles can save him??? Do I need to say more???

The Case of What Comes After - Series By: HowYouDoing (FancyMeetingYouHere) Rating: T Tags: Post-S1, Traumas, Hurt/Comfort Summary: Working It Out - “And you think you’re your dad,” Crystal fills his sudden silence, tear-tracks on her angry face, “and that Edwin would be your mom, and that you’re somehow destined to have the exact same relationship as them if you ever admitted to yourself that you’re in love with Edwin.” Or, Crystal pops the question about whether Charles is in love with Edwin or not, and Charles proceeds to go down a full rabbit-hole of feelings and trauma. Thankfully, Edwin shows up to help. Us - Edwin once suggested that he does not deserve Charles, then shut the topic down by saying it was a conversation for another time. Charles, very unanimously, decides this is that time. My Notes: Charles dealing with how he doesn't want his and Edwin's relationship to be like his parents' hits my deep in my heart. And in the sequal Edwin gets to deal with some of his truama too.

The Ghostly Potion Debacle of '24 By: NuriaSchnee @nuria-schnee Rating: M Tags: Romance, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Protective Charles Rowland Summary: Charles gets hit by a potion that makes your biggest worries disappear. The good news? The witch that made the potion is a little incompetent, and the potion is faulty. The bad news? Charles had been obsessing about how to confess to Edwin for months, and the potion has made Edwin completely invisible to Charles. My Notes: Charles really goes through it in this one. He is forced to face his inner worries and deal with them directly. The whole thing is very stressful! (in a good way!)

The Hour of Separation By: Safaia @safaiagem Rating: M Tags: Case Fic, Revenge, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Protective Charles Rowland, Protective Edwin Payne Summary: The problem with solving big, flashy cases and going international is that you become well-known. Word came down about everything the Dead Boy Detectives managed to do in Port Townsend, and they have never been busier. The problem with becoming more well-known is that you don't always draw the kind of attention you want. You might jump onto the radar of someone with a grudge just looking for an excuse. Technically, it is part of a series, but it can be easily read as a stand-alone. My Notes: The tension in this one is strong, as well as the protectiveness of the boys. Also, slight spoiler so if you don't want that stop reading, I appreciate that the boys get together in the middle rather than the end! It is nice to see them face the final threat as a couple rather than having them get together at the end.

The lamps are going out By: CasiHuman @technically-human Rating: T Tags: AU - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: Evil spirits, vengeful spirits. At the time, he didn't yet have the words to explain what had happened to him –even though, without a frame of reference, he could still tell something was wrong– They formed when a ghost felt an awful injustice had befallen them, and few ghosts could claim to have been as wronged by everything as Edwin Payne. He just hoped the boy from the attic wouldn't put two and two together. My Notes: Any fic that expands on ghost lore is great and this one is no exception! I like the idea of Edwin being a vengeful spirit and having there be something wrong with him. It adds something to the boys dynamic that is really interesting.

[kiyomitakada]

[high school au introduction. for the soul]

-

It had been a long time since Soichiro Yagami last drove his son to school. Light took the bus. His mom sometimes fretted about safety, offered to call a taxi instead, but then Light would have to make conversation with the taxi driver and while he did enjoy psychological manipulation it wasn't exactly his ideal mood just after waking up. Besides, it was so boring when he knew he'd never see the other person again. No stakes.

So, the bus. The regular bus, not the school one. If he saw any of his classmates on the way he might break the hammer out of the box and smash the windows.

Light sat in the back row and opened his Windows computer. He had perfected the art of typing quietly.

Last year he might have been putting the finishing touches on his summer reading essay. This year he pulled up 2048 and played until all the blocks swam across his vision in the same impossible color.

-

Misa bounced anxiously on the balls of her feet, peering over the crowd. She and Rem were just to the side of the main entrance. Rem was almost a head taller than her, which allowed her to stand behind Misa and still see perfectly.

"Do you see him yet?"

"No," Rem said. "Misa, we're going to be late."

"Oh who cares, you know the start-of-year assemblies are always the same." Misa flapped a hand at her. "I'm sure he'll be here soon!"

"Did he text you?"

"Good question!" Misa tapped at her phone; it lit. No new messages.

Light hadn't messaged her yesterday, either. Or the day before that. Misa shoved down the building panic in her chest.

"Nothing?"

"Maybe he got hit by a car," she offered. This was a better option than Light just forgetting. If Light had been hit by a car, Misa could take care of him. "Or maybe the bus broke down."

She tapped out r u ok???? and hit send. Then abruptly the wall of messages only on the right side of the screen was too much to look at, so she stuffed her phone back into her pocket.

It pinged a minute later. The time was now 7:57, and the crowd had thinned considerably.

Yes I'm fine. Just a delay on the bus Sorry

Misa pumped her fist. Yes! Light hadn't forgotten her! She typed back immediately:

oh no!!!! :0 how long is it gonna be

I don't know, Misa.

:((((((

"He doesn't know how long it'll be," Misa said, after the sad-face string received no reply. She stretched, then shivered. Maybe a shoulderless dress wasn't the best idea on a cold morning; in her defense, it was August.

"I'm sure he won't mind if we go in first," Rem tried.

"Yes he will! We're a couple, you know. We have to do things together." Misa sighed. Of course Rem wouldn't understand. There wasn't a romantic bone anywhere within that all-black hoodie. Then again, that was why Misa liked her so much — Rem had this weirdly innocent vibe despite generally hanging around the emos, like she still hadn't quite figured out how high school love worked. It was charming. Misa had taken Rem under her wing as soon as Misa transferred to their high school three years ago, and she had never looked back.

"Okay," Rem said, conceding defeat. She tapped a bit at her own phone, then reached up and unzipped her hoodie. She extracted her arms from it carefully before draping it over Misa.

Misa blinked. "Thanks?"

"You were shivering," Rem said, as though this explained everything. Maybe it did. Rem was such a good friend, Misa thought, pulling the hoodie over her arms. Rem would do anything for her.

"Are you gonna be cold?"

"No, I'm wearing long sleeves."

Misa grinned. "You dress like an onion, Rem."

Rem did not dignify this with a comment. She dipped her head back down over Misa's and kept scrolling through her phone, not making eye contact.

If Misa didn't know better, she'd think she was shy.

-

"I swear to God," Gelus muttered, before he cast his phone aside. "Ryuk, sit up."

"I'm saving Rem's seat," Ryuk said, lounging over two metal chairs like that one scene in Titanic.

Gelus groaned. "Rem's not coming. Misa's got her locked outside again."

"More room for me." Ryuk dropped an apple chip into his mouth, unconcerned. "Hey, Jello, you didn't tell me to save a seat for Misa."

"That's because I didn't want her to sit with us!" Gelus hissed.

"Why not? Misa's cool."

Okay, yes, Misa was cool. Gelus could admit that he'd had a crush on her when she'd first transferred in, just like everyone else and their father did, but it had gone away with time after he'd gotten to know her better and also gotten on antidepressants. These days she was just a person. A very overdramatic person, to be sure, but still.

Rem, on the other hand, had fallen progressively more head-over-heels as time went on. Which was fine. But every time he saw Rem do something ridiculously romantic like kiss each of Misa's knuckles as 'rewards' while teaching her math homework, and every time Misa completely ignored this to go after her clearly uninterested boyfriend again, Gelus felt like flushing all his meds down the toilet.

"If Misa sits with us we'll have to sit with Light Yagami."

Ryuk shrugged. "Could be fun. What's he like?"

"I have no idea," Gelus said. "But look at him. Does he look like the fun type to you?"

"Mmm, I don't know," Ryuk mused. "Maybe if I got him stimulants."

"Ladies and gentlemen." Principal Kitamura's voice crackled through the speakers of the auditorium. "Welcome back to a new school year. I couldn't be more glad you're all here…"

Gelus glanced pointedly at the double-space Ryuk was taking up. Ryuk paid no mind and stared up at the ceiling instead, crunching more apple chips.

The teachers didn't notice. They never had.

[0rczy]

About your "sweet cheeks" question for Varian's nickname, I'm P sure the original outline/draft of 7k from Anna and Kay had Hugo calling him that. Or some asks they did in Hugo's character. It got popularized by fans reusing it obvs but it's part of the og concept and thats how it got into the fandom in the first place

oh! I thought it was a fandom only thing, good to know :o

I personally still prefer the other nicknames, as sweet cheeks is a bit too much in my opinion, especially if the two only just met. It comes across weirdly, like condescending. It's on the same level of off-putting as the "are you lost babygirl" line from a movie I had to watch with my friends a couple years ago. They found it super romantic for some reason, but like. Imagine actually being called that, by a guy you barely knew...

Which, if they're enemies, and at the beginning they are, would be fine, but I just dislike how Varian (at least in the fics I've read) doesn't enjoy being called that and Hugo still keeps on using the nickname to spite him. Asshole move.

Then again that's kind of the point, too. That he's an ass to Varian. The character development becomes more apparent through the evolution of the nicknames (especially if/when Varian starts to call him names too! Love to see it) so in that way, I guess it's not THAT bad...

Goggles is the best nickname though. No doubt about it.

[arialerendeair]

Happy Birthday!!!!!! May all your wishes come true!!!! Good health and wealth to you!!!

As a Gabe anon, I feel compelled to give you a little idea and here it is. A Sleepless in Seattle AU!

Hob is a recently widowed father to a precocious 10-year-old, Robyn. They lost Eleanor just the year before and to help themselves, they pack up and move out of the city she grew up in to move to Seattle.

On the other side of the country, Dream is preparing to marry Calliope, whom he met at work. The relationship is fine. He likes her well enough and she likes him well enough. Marriage is just something that makes this all seem real.

It's Christmas Eve and while on a long drive home, Dream tunes into a radio show where Robyn is asking for a new wife or husband for his father. He's been real sad since his mom died and he just wants someone to join their little family.

Then Hob catches him and sends him off to bed and takes over the call. He gets to talking about what he loved about his wife and what he misses most. Dream heart melts for this stranger so many miles away.

Dream decides to write him a letter. He wants to meet Hob and Robyn on top of the Empire State Building on Valentine's Day, much to the chagrin of his friend Lucienne who rightly tells him he doesn't want to be in love in real life. He wants to be in love in a movie. He's also still engaged to Calliope after all. Dream thinks better of it and tosses the letter, which Lucienne still mails.

Hob meanwhile has moved on and has started dating again. Which Robyn doesn't like. He finds Gwen too weird for his tastes. Besides he likes Dream's letter the best. Which puts the house at odds. Robyn wants to go to New York for Valentine's Day, Hob wants to go to a cabin for the weekend with Gwen. They fight about it all day long until Eurydice, Robyn's new friend, uses her parent's travel agency to put him on a plane.

Robyn's going to New York to see his new dad <3

- 🤜 anon

ANON I HAVE NEVER BEEN MORE GRATEFUL IN MY LIFE THAT YOU DECIDED TO COME AND GRACE MY INBOX WITH THIS. BECAUSE THIS IS GLORIOUS.

~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~

Hob has never been more panicked in his entire life than he was when he got the phone call from his babysitter that Robyn wasn't at home. The ensuing fight with Gwen had been quick, vicious, and frustrating. She had understood his need to go after Robyn, of course, but when she found out that Robyn had left to meet this mystery letter person, they'd had a fight over the love letter that Hob still carried in his wallet.

(Why did he carry the letter in his wallet? How long had he had the loopy handwriting memorized, how long had he known every single word, no matter how many times he'd read it....)

Hob had taken Gwen home, and had accepted her demand to delete her number from his phone and hauled ass to the airport, purchasing a ticket the second he hit the counter, racing to the gate in time. The flight was agonizing, and Robyn had clearly turned his phone off, no matter how many times Hob looked at it and begged for his kid to answer one of his dozen or so texts.

~!~

Perhaps Dream should have known that Calliope would not stand to play second fiddle to anyone, even an imaginary man who had no basis or truth in reality. Yet when she'd handed him the ring back with a regretful look, he'd felt nothing but relief. He had no doubt that in another world, they could, perhaps, find happiness together, but every time Dream looked at the Empire State Building... he wondered.

Strange that the sound of a single man's voice had made him decide to abandon all reason. But Robert Gadling (call him Hob, according to his adorable son) had sounded so wistful and so lovely that it had been impossible not to be drawn to the possibility of offering what it was that the man was seeking. No matter that he lived across the entire country and the possibility of him being at the top of the Empire State Building tonight was so unlikely as to be called impossible...

The romantic in him couldn't deny it how much he wanted Hob to be waiting for him there. Even if Dream had no idea what he looked like, or how someone like Robyn would like him, it didn't matter. The possibility of it all was a break in the 'fine' that it seemed had been suffocating him his entire life.

So Dream raced to the Empire State Building, barely making it past the guard, promising a quick look before he left, and ran out onto the observation deck. The sight of no one there, only an empty chill, had his heart sinking, because of course he'd been foolish, of course he had wanted too much, wanted the impossible - when the door opened behind him.

Standing there was a man, with his son, and they were in the middle of an argument.

"I told you no one would be up here, they were closed-"

"But Dad, his letter promised! He promised!"

"I know, but sometimes adults make promises that they can't keep," Hob said, his voice softening, gentling.

Dream stared in shock, because it was impossible not to recognize both of those voices. He'd heard them in his dreams for weeks now, and they likely hadn't seen him because of his all black ensemble. He cleared his throat and stepped into the orange light from the inside.

"I am in the habit of keeping my promises," he offered up, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. He stepped closer, even tough it was clear that they were both in shock. A moment later, Robyn was barreling toward him, and Dream caught the boy against his legs carefully, well aware that Robert Gadling (Hob, Hob, his name was Hob) was watching. "It's a pleasure to meet you Robyn."

"I knew you'd come, Mr. Dream. You promised. You said that everyone needs to have dreams, and how important they are, no matter how fantastical they are!" Robyn said, his face pressed tight to him. "You're perfect for Dad, I just know it."

Dream swallowed down the instinctive disagreement, because he was far from perfect for anyone, and in fact, it was the distinct opposite, where he was often too much. "I think that will be up to your Dad and I to determine, Robyn. But I have you to thank for our meeting." He knelt down, uncaring of he cold granite on his knees and met the warm brown eyes of the boy who loved his father so much, he'd tried to do the impossible.

"No matter what happens, Robyn, never forget how important it is to-"

"Put magic into the world," Hob finished, quoting Dream's letter from memory, meeting the wild blue eyes that sent his heart stuttering all over again. "Because if we do not make our own magic, if we do not rejoice in the magic there is to be had, it will fade away before we even know what we have lost."

Dream's breath caught and he stared at Hob. "You read my letter," he whispered.

"Dad keeps it tucked in his wallet," Robyn stage-whispered. "He's read it so many times when he thought I wasn't looking. I think he needs a little magic."

Dream's lips quirked and he grinned as Hob began to flush, his cheeks growing more and more red by the second. "Does he now?" He reached out and gave Robyn's hands a small squeeze before standing and moving closer to where Robert Gadling was tugging at his ear lobe in embarrassment.

"Hello Robert," Dream breathed, his voice soft. "My name is Morpheus Endless, but I would have you call me Dream."

"Hello Dream," Hob repeated, his voice soft, reverent. He could feel his cheeks were flaming red because the most beautiful man he'd ever seen swayed closer to him. "Call me Hob, please? If that's not too weird?"

Dream nodded. "Hob," he agreed. "You kept my letter?"

Hob nodded and reached out to pull it from his letter, unfolding it carefully. "I, I used to be a medieval professor. No one hand writes letters anymore. But yours was handwritten."

"Of course. It was important," Dream whispered. "It had to be a little bit magical. For the man I fell a little in love with over a radio show."

Hob gasped, his eyes widening. There was a story in the way Dream's chin tilted up, unrepentant, but aware it was too much, that it should be too much. It was a story he very much wanted to discover. He swallowed and looked down at Robyn who was grinning wildly at both of them.

"I think I fell a little in love with you when you turned around to tell Robyn you always keep your promises," Hob admitted, his heart pounding. Pink streaked across Dream's cheekbones and he wanted to chase it with his lips. "But don't you live in New York? We, we don't..."

"As it turns out," Dream said, pushing his hands into his pockets. "I am a children's author who is quite able to work from wherever he likes. So perhaps, I could offer my guest room to you both this evening, and I could visit the west coast soon?"

"Really soon, Mr. Dream?" Robyn asked. "Please?"

Dream winked at Hob and looked down at Robyn. "If I can manage it, I have every intention of flying back on the same flight as both of you. I can't have someone else stealing your father away when I have decided to properly court him, after all."

The noise that escaped his throat was embarrassing, but hearing Dream say that he intended to COURT him was... he wasn't the one who should be COURTED, not when Dream was, was, he was the one who deserved to be courted!

"If he will have me of course," Dream added, meeting Hob's eyes again. "I am perhaps out of practice, but I will do my best."

Hob could see the hesitancy there, the worry, and if he wasn't halfway in love with Dream already from that small declaration, he didn't know himself at all. So instead, he reached out, tangled his hands in the collar of Dream's jacket and pulled him in close. "We can practice together," he breathed against Dream's lips, swallowing his gasp with a soft kiss.

They broke apart to Robyn's loud cheer followed by the pointed clearing of the throat of the elevator bellman. Hob laughed and pressed his forehead against Dream's, holding onto his hand tightly as they made their way to the exit. Perhaps it would end horribly, perhaps it was a dream not meant to last, but...

Dream didn't let go of his hand for the rest of the night.

Or on the flight home.

Or on the car ride back to his house.

Or when he offered the use of his guest room in return for Dream's kindness.

Or, when, three weeks later, he admitted that he had fallen in proper love, and he wanted Dream to stay.

Dream didn't let go, and Hob let himself believe in the magic of happily ever after.

[canonmisogynyvictimstournament]

PROPAGANDA

ARCEE (TRANSFORMERS) (CW: Transphobia)

1.) Transformers has had a troubled history with female transformers as a whole. They didn't really even exist until Season 2. And while they've all gotten the short end of the stick until recently, Arcee, who kinda ended up The Main Girl (sorry Elita) has gotten the brunt of this mistreatment. Mostly talking G1 here.

Toys kept getting cancelled over and over even though she's a main, important character of Season 3. She didn't get a decent widely available toy that actually resembled her G1 version (first one was a Botcon exclusive Blackarachnia redeco which I disqualify because convention-exclusive spider is not what I was looking for, and Binaltech is just kinda a pink and white robot who looks nothing like her, just with her name slapped on) until 2014. I wish I could use bold here, because there's no such thing as uppercase numbers. Before that, you just kinda had to look at the toys from other canons and squint because Hasbro doesn't think the pink girl toy will sell well.

And misogyny present in the fiction? A lot can be summed up in a couple words, namely, "Furman, why?" While most people go with his excuses of not believing in Cybertronian gender, it really comes across as him seeing men as the default, neutral state of being, and women as something that must be explained. Poorly. Explained very poorly. Not to explain things in Tv Tropes terms, but I have to, it reeks of the 'Men Are Generic, Women Are Special' https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/MenAreGenericWomenAreSpecial trope.

Let's get us started with Prime's Rib. Oh my goodness, Prime's Rib. So, Furman doesn't believe in Cybertronian gender (and male is seen as default), and this has reflected in his writing. He's going along perfectly fine writing his dudes in the US run of the Marvel comics, Arcee entirely ignored… but what's this? The connected UK comic has her. He can't just ignore her. So, well. He needs an explanation. Explaining a plot hole isn't bad. It's how he did it. Arcee was created in response to a feminist mob who was mad Cybertronians were all guys. I don't think I need to explain this one.

I'm too tired to explain her treatment in IDW now. Something something unnatural attempt to introduce gender into a genderless species, something something, really weird uncomfortable treatment, it's a long story and I'm not an IDW expert, read the TFWiki page for Spotlight: Arcee.

I'm sure there's more in other media, but I've blathered on way too long and I'm starting to get frustrated and tired and AGH FURMAN WHY. He's gotten better, too, definitely not judging his present self over comics that are from many years ago, but asdfghjkl

Ok fine, one more thing. This isn't G1 but Michael Bay stated in interviews that he gleefully killed her movieverse version off specifically because he didn't like her. It's not NECESSARILY misogyny motivated. I wouldn't deem it misogyny coming from a different director with a different film series. Transformers writers have had personal beef with random characters which they wished to unceremoniously kill off before--Animated Beachcomber comes to mind, even if the writers never got the chance. But it's also Michael Bay's Transformers we're talking about here. Can you blame me for thinking that?

Arcee has gotten better treatment in recent years. Furman's clumsy attempts to explain Arcee's gender in tbe IDW run were slowly retconned into some pretty decent trans rep by other authors, she's really just come into her own as a character. But it was a long and rocky road to get there, and I believe we all need to acknowledge that.

2.) Was initially introduced in the 80's transformers movie only after being strong armed by Ron Friedman, being the first female presenting robot to be seen in the show. bright pink, cause, ya know, female. has the most romantic involvement of any transformer ever across all transformations media, cause, ya know, female, and god forbid she be her own person when hasbro can stick to her to Some Guy. she was made trans in the 2005 continuity and was immediately made berserk as a result. marvel made her a freak science experiment to shame feminists. why does the robot have curves when no one else does istg

i love her too much to stand by idly while she's treated this way

3.) hasbro keeps trying to convince people that her and elita-one (another pink fem character) are actually the same. "who cares same lore different names. what do you mean they're different characters?" and constantly flips their lore, designs, and names around with every single FUCKING continuity ie transformers rise of the beasts where they use arcee's design but call her elita-one SMASHES MY HEAD INTO THE WALL bro there's a whole group of autobots called the "female transformers". i don't. there's so little female representation in this series that hasbro decided the best way to fix it would be… segregation, ig. arcee is apart of it obviously. elita-one leads it. reminds me that i should (and maybe sick a couple friends on this poll) make a submission for elita because JESUS CHRIST hasbro fucked her up also apparently in some continuities arcee is trans. upon getting bottom surgery it fucking. idk how turns her berserk?? it's so weird. mind controlled/sleeper agent in like half of the fucking continuities for some reason. in every single one of these continuities she either gets with Springer or Hot Rod and ends up betraying them. every single time why does the robot have boobs

NAOMI MISORA (DEATH NOTE)

1.) I know everyone is gonna submit Misa but honestly she had it worse.

She gets introduced as this competent lady who's gonna help find Kira but then she just, decides to show some teenager her real ID as a show of trust and whoops that's Kira.

Also part of her introduction was her fiance going "You don't need to worry about this tracking down the killer nonsense, you're gonna be my wife, you should just be worried about raising kids in the future :)" or some shit. And it's barely addressed, because she just fucking dies.

2.) She was the only woman in the series to show any level of competence. She figured out more about how the death note works from some small context clues than L did in considerably less time. She was apparently so competent that the author decided to kill her off despite initially planning to make her a main character, fearing she would distract from the L and Light rivalry.

3.) the victim of “writer doesn’t understand women and also hates them” disease. Like, seriously, the author of Death Note could only imagine a female FBI agent as the fiancée of another, more senior FBI agent. The main character Light kills her fiancé Raye Penber (in honestly a really tightly written and cool episode) and so she tries to figure out who killed her husband. Unlike Raye who only figured out that Light was Kira as he was dying because Light basically told him, Naomi figures it out a lot sooner so oops guess she’s gotta die because she’s too good at her job.

[aces-to-apples]

Wrt fans preferring certain other Veilguard companion ships to have happened instead of the ones we got, I'm not sure how to explain that the ships we got, particularly Lucanis/Neve, make the most sense for the characters as presented.

Like, sure, I may prefer the tension of Davrin's and Lucanis's antagonism and want to read fanfiction of them banging it out, but would Davrin ever pursue a human-demon pair (which scares him, he doesn't trust like that) whose profession (and, frankly, entire life) revolves around something Davrin finds morally repugnant? And would Lucanis nurture an interest in a man who disdains his entire life's (and family's) work and purpose, who is immediately hostile towards everything about him, including the thing that helped him survive an entire year of fucking torture, and mocks and threatens him for basically every banter/conversation we witness up til they force themselves to resolve their shit post-Weisshaupt?

And then Neve/Bellara. Would Neve feel romantic interest, nurse and pursue it, for a person whose naïvete makes her think reading serials is comparable to real life experience, and who idolizes Neve specifically, to the point of having trouble treating her like a normal person? Now, to be fair to Bellara, her romance is so far outside my realm of interest that I haven't come across anything about it in the wild, so I don't know how Bellarook goes, but somehow I can't see her, in the midst of all the madness, shooting her shot with her personal hero whom she has to be repeatedly reminded to just use their name.

Look, I'm not knocking any of these ships (and on a quick tangent: I am disappointed that the Black man and Asian woman companions don't get NPC romances, that makes me sad and I wouldn't mind them pairing up together about it), as stated I even like Davrin/Lucanis to an extent, but I think some people making these complaints are. Hmm. How to phrase it...

It's like, yes, enemies/antagonists-to-lovers is a fun trope; yes, ""sunshine/stormcloud"" is a fun trope; but some of y'all are putting the tropes above the characters, and I don't get that at all. Like, one) not to put too fine a point on it but that's what fanfic is for, mixing and matching the characters like dolls to our personal taste, and two) we get so much characterization in this game that I don't feel like we need tropes to paper over holes in the canon.

I mean, tropes are narrative shorthand, but we have an actual narrative, you know?

[killingthecringe]

For the prompt thing how about 135, or 243, or 388? You pick which ever gets you inspired.

243. “Oh my God! You’re in love with her!”

"Shut up, Rouge." He hisses, blowing past his roommate with a grunt. Despite his best attempt, she fans a wing out to block his path.

“Oh no, we are going to talk about this!” “No, we aren't. I have nothing to say on the matter, so leave me alone.” Shadow’s low growl doesn't work on the bat, she’s heard it too many times to believe there is active malice behind it. When her wing remains unmoved, his shoulders drop with a sigh.

“Please, Rouge. I’m tired.”

He doesn't show exhaustion the way most people do. No discoloration forms under his eyes, and as far as she can tell he’s never yawned. But there is weariness in the way he moves, and when he does meet her eyes, she can see how true the statement is.

“Fine. But we talk about this in the morning”

She folds her wing out of the way, and he all but runs to his room, shutting the door behind him. She doesn't mean to pry- but satellite ears aren't something that can just be turned off. The dull thud of him tossing his shoes across the room and the creak of the old bed frame as his weight drops onto it.

To give him his privacy, she turns a trashy reality TV show on, volume on just loud enough for the sounds of his breathing to be covered by the glamorous women throwing wine at each other.

As expected, he keeps his promise.  When she wakes from where she's spent the night on the couch, he’s sat in his chair, reading. His ears twitch towards her, and he looks up, observing her silently as she stretches out her tense muscles. The apartment smells of fresh coffee, and she perks up at the sight of her favourite mug sat with steam rising from it. 

“You can't bribe me with coffee. We’re talking about it.”

Shadow sets his book aside without marking the page, and she gets the odd sense he’d only been holding it to keep his hands occupied.

She takes a sip of the warm drink, letting the heat seep into her as she draws her knees to her chest.

“When?”

Shadow starts bouncing his leg as his arms cross over his chest. “I don't know.”

Her raised eyebrow is met with an unenthusiastic shrug. It's not like he's got a well-developed emotional vocabulary, so she will have to take what he's willing to offer.

“Is it mutual?”

“I don't know.”

“Does she know?”

“No, not that I am aware.”

“You're kind of unobservant.”

“I know.”

Rouge sighs. “I thought she was still in love with him.”

He reacts as if he was hiding a stab wound in the field. Ears pinned back, curling in on himself in a defensive manner, even as he fought to keep his composure. To keep his dignity. To pretend to be unaffected.

“She is,” Rouge said aloud

Silence, with crimson eyes burning a hole into the permanent wrinkle of the rug underneath the coffee table/

Rouge chewed at her lip, dragging her fangs across a split that had just healed. Amy was a really wonderful girl, full of fire and potential and joie de vive. She’d thrown love and care at anyone she’d come across, including those who didn't deserve it - but that never stopped her from doing it again.

A lot of people liked Amy.

A lot of people loved Amy.

But she had tunnel vision in the worst way. No matter how heavy-handed the flirting was, how overt, how direct, Amy never caught on. She just kept chasing the fantasy of having her love reciprocated by Sonic and Sonic only.

Suitor after suitor tried their luck, something the bat noticed when hanging out with Amy a few times. Waiters stumbling over their words, double takes as they were passed in the street. Once even, someone had given her their number scribbled on a napkin, and the oblivious flower had thought it a request for volunteer information.

Rouge has asked, had made clear points - but Amy had always dismissed it as flirting meant for the bat or ‘romantic thinking’.

So Shadow’s subtle affection would be entirely undetectable.

“This is stupid.” Shadow mumbled, crossing his arms in front of him. "I should be better than this.”

The bat huffed. “Better than what? Mortal emotion?” “I shouldn't let her have the effect on me that she does.”

“Well,” another sip from her coffee mug, “I don't think that’s a choice you get to make. Your heart knows what it wants.”

“I should be using my head. She doesn’t want me.”

She watched his fingers dig into his bicep as he crossed his arms - if there was no cotton padding his claws, she has no doubt he would be bleeding. His voice came out soft, unsure. “I don't understand why she wants him when all he does is run, and leave her miserable after.”

Rouge hummed. “Predictability.” With his inquisitive look, she continued. “Amy knows sonic isn't going to love her back on some level, right? But if she keeps chasing him, then at least there are no surprises. No getting caught off guard. No risks. No actual vulnerability.  No growth, no change. No real pain, not like an actual relationship could cause. Just an ever moving goalpost.” Shadow huffed, “Impossible to succeed.” “Impossible to fail.” Rouge finished her coffee, leaning back onto the plush cushions. “She’s as scared of love as she is enamoured.”

The dark hedgehog sighed and ran his hands through his quills. “So what then?”

“That's up to you.” Rouge stood, stretching out. “But asking her to hang out wouldn't be a bad idea. Show her that she doesn't always have to be the one planning everything for everyone all the time.”

Shadow pulled out his phone, typing quickly as Rouge passed by him, patting his shoulder and heading off to take a shower.He was gone when she got out - but he’d left a note on the couch next to his book.

Thanks.