#would just reflect my own taste more than anything else

[queenlucythevaliant]

hi, young soon-to-be a librarian here, i’ve liked books for a long time but the issue is i exclusively read books below my reading level for no explicable reason, what books do i read so that i don’t just look like a total child managing a library he shouldn’t even have access to. (I’m the co-founder of my high school’s Library committee.)

I really want to be what this library needs, and i know im unqualified but if i don’t do this, nobody will. I am falliable but i’m not gonna let this chance fall by the wayside.

Hi there! Flattered that you think I can opine usefully on this issue.

My general statement to you would be that truths really do coexist here. (1) Just read whatever you want, my dude. Life is short and there are so many more books in the world than you will ever have the chance to read. Don't force yourself to read stuff that doesn't bring you any joy. (2) The books that you read absolutely do shape you as a person, and for that reason it's good to read things that are varied, challenging, and edifying. There are all sorts of ways for those two truths to slot together, and we've got our whole lives to figure it out.

That said, here's some personal experience from my summer at the bookstore that I'll toss up alongside those fairly broad statements:

I became aware very quickly that I am not literary soulmates with any of my coworkers or the vast, vast majority of my customers. I've been told several times now that my personal tastes are "not commercial." Yet every now and then, I'll get to talk with someone who also really loves the same books that I love, and those moments are just magic. In your case, maybe those conversations will be with kids or teens. That's awesome! You and whoever your people are will light up in those moments, and you'll figure out pretty quickly how to be useful to everyone else.

I am interested in reading exactly zero of the Most Popular Books that our store sells. That's fine, and thankfully no one is going to make me. I've found it useful, however, to do a bit of research so that I can make pleasant small talk about those books and recommend them as appropriate. Wikipedia, Goodreads, and YouTube are all your friends here. I've actually really enjoyed that kind of research! Kinda feels like rummaging through the closet of a friend with an entirely different fashion sense.

Another thing that's really useful is making note of where anything you might remotely call a favorite is in the store(/library), especially those that are outside your usual genres. You might be surprised at how varied your own reading is! This is helpful when someone asks for a rec outside your usual wheelhouse. Even if you haven't read 99% of the books in that section, you can point to the one or two you've read and loved and say, "Oh, these are my favorites. Read them," without necessarily having to cop to the fact that you haven't read much else in the genre.

Also worth mentioning: our store manager reads mostly YA and fantasy, and we all respect her and think she's great. Our assistant manager reads mostly YA and romance, and ditto. She's also great. The gal who runs our kids section is the oldest person working at our store, and she reads tons of kids books not just because that's her area, but also because she genuinely loves them. She is super cool and knowledgeable. I really don't think people are likely to look down on you for what you read.

So that's what I've got. Hopefully something in there is helpful. For what it's worth, you sound highly qualified based on what you wrote and I think your earnest desire to serve your community in this way will get you a lot further than having read or not read any specific books :)

[chososcamgirl]

(SHE’S) JUST A PHASE CHAPTER SIXTEEN: maybe a phase?

masterlist

“Didn’t expect this many people to show up,” Megumi mumbled to the pink-haired boy beside him.

“I like it! It’s like our very own cult!” Yuji exclaimed; his eyes sparkling as he licked his lips in anticipation.

The raven rolled his eyes at the remark. He wasn’t wrong though. With the turnout of the event, you could start a small religion. 

Fans gathered in eager clusters; their faces lit with anticipation as they waited for their moment with the band. Laughter echoed around him, a stark contrast to the knot of anxiety tightening in his chest. Megumi felt like a marionette, expertly performing his role while his heart remained tethered to unspoken thoughts.

“Megumi, can you finish the heart?” 

He suppresses a mental groan at yet another familiar request, but he obliges, nonetheless. 

That definitely must have been the hundredth one. With a practised smile, he lifts his hand, expertly completing the heart shape as the girl beams through the screen. The phone obscures her face, leaving him with only a sense of her enthusiasm.

Around him, the atmosphere of the fan meet-and-greet buzzes with energy. His bandmates are in their element, laughing and joking with fans, their easy conviviality filling the air with warmth. They engage with their admirers, sharing stories and creating moments that spark joy, their carefree spirits a stark contrast to his mood - enjoying themselves. 

Having fun.

As he stands there, a twinge of envy bubbles beneath the surface. Here he is, moping over a girl who seems not to want anything to do with him. Well, anything but his dick. While everyone else is immersed in genuine interaction, he can’t shake the feeling of being sidelined and lost in his thoughts while the world around him pulses with life and laughter.

why would i care?

His heart panging as he replayed the text message he had received days ago, each word lingering like a haunting refrain. Was it wrong to feel this way? To sense that everything he had shared was merely a facade, a carefully crafted performance for someone who never truly saw him. 

He couldn’t shake the unsettling realization that he felt like nothing more than a fleeting moment in her life—a one-night stand disguised as something deeper. The weight of this realization pressed down on him, an oppressive reminder that his emotions felt tossed aside as if he were just an afterthought in a narrative that didn’t include him. 

The feeling of being used gnawed at him, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. Every time he revisited that moment, a tight knot formed in his stomach, an ache that echoed his longing for something genuine. He craved a connection that resonated beyond the surface and spoke to his heart and soul rather than just his body. As the days passed, that yearning only deepened, leaving him in a cycle of doubt and self-reflection, questioning what it truly meant to be seen and valued.

Whatever. Fuck Yn. She can go fuck herself. I don’t fucking need her. Fuck her. Fuck her. Fuck her. Fuck her. Fuck-

“Oh my god! I’m such a huge fan!” The enthusiastic voice sliced through his thoughts, yanking him back to the chaotic reality of the event.

He quickly summoned his best faux smile, a mask he had perfected through countless encounters.

“Hey! Thank you so much, I really appreciate it,” he replied, glancing down at the array of items sliding his way to autograph—each one a reminder of the crushing expectations he felt.

The fan leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I just have one question for you.”

“Shoot,” he said, keeping his voice steady, though a flicker of tension danced beneath the surface.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

He chuckled at the unexpected question, shaking his head. “I do not.”

“Then who’s that girl you’re always with?” she asked, tilting her head curiously.

“Dunno who you’re talking about,” he said, trying to keep his composure as he continues signing.

“Yes, you do!” she insisted, her voice rising with excitement as she grips the edge of the table.

As she continued to speculate about this so-called girlfriend, Megumi felt something inside him unravel. Maybe it was the sting of her silence in their last conversation, the way she had left him on read, leaving him feeling a little shattered. Or perhaps it was the sheer exhaustion of the endless meet-and-greet, where each interaction felt like a rehearsed line in a play he no longer wished to perform. The walls felt as if they were closing in, the air thick with unspoken feelings and unresolved questions.

Something snapped.

“She’s not my girlfriend, she’s just some random bitch who sluts herself out and calls it fun.”

The words escaped him before he could rein them in.

A heavy silence settles between them; the fan was stunned into stillness by his choice of words — and profanity. His eyes dropped to the phone in her hands, and dread washed over him as he realises she was recording.

Fuck.

backstage!

• hey siri play she’s just a phase by puma blue

• cue the megumi fumble arc

• megumi crash out video: 2 minutes long

• poor gojo had a heart attack when he got that pop bae notification (he hates dealing with the press)

• he put on notifs ever since they posted a pic of him and suguru walking out of a hotel together hand in hand LMFAO

• yn was standing in one spot just furiously tapping at her phone and panda asked if she was playing fruit ninja

• he got sent to his room after that

• nobara saw the video first (mainly bc she was on twitter at the time. who’s surprised?)

• told yn to brace herself and showed her it

• yn made 7 hate accounts during the uber to sukuna’s

• that girl mad as hell😂😂🤣🤦‍♀️

• i hope they don’t hook up!!

• side eye dog meme

taglist: @shokosbunny @luvvmae @satoryaa @prozacprinc3ss @essjujutsu @therealsatorugojo @yeehawslap @gojodickbig @dawnisatotalqueen @j2upiters @nappingnai @lalalasillybilly3000 @totallytatum @3cst4syy @lysaray @saltypuffin1040 @aozui @noodles-icetea @makeshiftproject @kurtcobaingirlie @kokoiinuts @dashingaurries @slvttycorpse @cuupidsss @mochroialainn @tenjikusstuff4 @ichcocat @laughingfcx @sugurubabe @allthestarsarecloserrrrrrr @tyigerz @yoyo-yui @megoomies @yizmiu @jasminasblog22 @marst4rz @guitarstringed-scars @kalulakunundrum @lovefrominaya @beepbopzlorp @itsdragonius @meguemii @chilichopsticks @starantulas @1l-ynn @sluttkuna @rcveriees @solaqes @starrysho @sukunaspillow @evry1luvssm

*if i can't tag you please change your tag settings otherwise i will remove you from the list!

[rinachains]

synopsis: in which your leader invites you for a drink and you see a new side of him.

wc: 2.1k

contents: drabble; cult leader!geto x gn!reader; tipsy, clingy geto; fluff, small warning for cult!leader geto lol; alcohol consumption

a/n: reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

It wasn’t necessarily unusual for Geto to invite you to join him in his office. Usually, though, you drank tea or coffee and sipped your soothing beverages as you chatted about your day, your duties and anything else that came to mind. You actually assumed he didn't drink alcohol at all - until now.

You were currently standing in his dimly lit office after he asked you to come over earlier that day, taking in the view of him pulling out a bottle of sake and two glasses, putting them on the small, wooden table in front of him. His long, silky onyx hair was tied back in a low ponytail, his usual monk attire had been discarded and replaced with a plain black robe that revealed a glimpse of his strong, broad chest. You could see a faint, healed scar on his otherwise smooth, pale skin. It was unfair how beautiful he looked without even trying, how ethereal.

“Are you planning on joining me eventually or do you want to stand by the door for the rest of the evening?” His purple eyes met yours, a glint reflecting in them, drawing you to him as if you were a crow seeing a shiny object. “C’mon, you know I won’t bite.”

Feeling a little flustered about acting so awkward, you hurriedly walked over to the table where you sat down opposite him on the soft cushions beneath you and crossed your legs to make yourself more comfortable. You couldn't help but naively think that this felt a bit like a date, but you knew better, didn't you? You were just driven by your own hormones because you weren't quite used to the attention of a man like him yet.

“Is there an occasion for this or did you just suddenly feel the urge to get drunk, Master Geto?”, you asked in a subtle, amused tone to relax yourself and get rid of the tension, raising an eyebrow as you eyed the table.

“No special occasion, I just wanted to share a drink with you.”

“Oh, but I don’t really drink”, you said sheepishly, holding your hand out in front of you. “I mean, I could go for one glass of sake, but I’m afraid that’s my limit.”

He chuckled, looking up briefly through his eyelashes before concentrating on pouring the drinks. “Are you a lightweight or just not fond of the taste?”

“Both, I guess.”

“I’m not much of a drinker either, but I thought it could help with relaxing. This week was pretty draining.”

Every time you two would have your little meetings, he would actually indulge you by sharing how his day went and what he’s planning next, but it never truly went deeper than that, solely scratching the surface. You weren't sure if he ever told you how he really felt. He held back, and you couldn't blame him for that. You always wondered why his hatred for non-sorcerers ran so deep, why he started this cult, what finally made him do what he's doing now. You desperately wanted to know and absorb everything about him, but you had to hold back. You wanted him to open up on his own because you were afraid you might overstep your boundaries and destroy the casual bond you two had forged.

He hummed approvingly as he observed you bringing your filled cup up to your mouth and taking small, measured sips. “Self-restraint is good, it’s quite hard to not be greedy.”

Then, contrary to you, he downed his drink in one go, making you choke back a startled laugh. His tongue darted out to lick the remaining liquid on his lips as he put his cup down. You felt your mouth fall slightly open at the sight, resisting the urge to copy him and lick your own lips.

It’s been about a year and a half since you joined Geto’s side. You remembered that day clearly, every single detail burned into your brain.

He was a stranger approaching you in his monk's robes, and for a moment you assumed you were surely going to be dragged into a cult. Which wasn't entirely wrong - you were technically part of a cult now, except you were the one doing the scamming, and he was helping you discover something very important about yourself - your cursed energy and technique.

Years, almost decades, of feeling as if you were crazy, until you met someone who finally understood and proofed to you that you weren’t crazy, but, in fact, special. You were no longer lonely; for once you were surrounded by people and there was no loneliness that weighed you down.

He was your leader, but he never made you feel inferior. Your group was more like a family; that’s what he said to you from the beginning, what he promised with such earnest enthusiasm. You’d join his family, become a part of it, a new member. You’d finally belong.

It also didn’t help that he was handsome – devilishly so. You didn't think you'd ever met anyone as captivating as him, with eyes so keen and sharp, smile so nihilistic and almost cruel, voice so gentle and soothing. Truthfully, he had you under his spell the moment you encountered those purple hues.

Normally, he was carrying himself in such a collected, mature manner, domineering and commanding but without being brash and forceful – he was a natural leader who effortlessly managed to wrap others around his long fingers, including you.

Now, as the two of you were sitting here, and you slowly finished your one drink and he was already on his third one, there was a light flush coating his cheeks, his hair lightly disheveled, a few more strands than usual hanging in his face, framing his delicate, sharp features. It gave him a boyish charm that made the corner of your lips curl up, your cheeks feeling warm (and not just from the alcohol). It was vulnerable in a way; you wondered if you were the first one to see him in such a state. The thought of someone else getting this view made your stomach churn; you wanted to be the first and the only one. A view reserved for you eyes only.

“Let me pour you another one, Master Geto”, you exclaimed, reaching out for the bottle and carefully pouring more liquid in his cup.

His eyes intently followed your movements, hand twitching with the secret urge to pet your head and relish the softness of your hair. So eager to please.

“Suguru.”

“Huh?”, you quickly turned your attention towards him again, just as you put down the bottle on the table.  

“Call me Suguru.” His head tilted to the side, bang swinging with his lazy movements, and he put his hands behind him, leaning back. “We’ve known each other for a while now. And I trust you. Shouldn’t the person I trust call me by my first name?”

“You-“, you choked out a response, flustered by his unexpected directness, “you can’t just say things like that.”

“Why not?”, he gave you a look of genuine confusion, making you hold back a chuckle at his current childlike nature. “I want to be honest with the people I care about.”

A huff escaped your lips, more collected now. “I guess that checks out since you lie so much on a daily basis.”

“Hmh, exactly”, he purred, a deep rumble vibrating in his chest and you swore you could almost feel it despite the small distance between you. “I have to lie so much to these monkeys, ‘have to play pretend. I don’t have to do that with you.” Something akin to a blissful expression formed on his face and his voice was so insufferably sultry, dripping honey that you could almost taste on your own tongue.

You pursed your lips, biting the inside of your cheek. “But you’re still my leader, it wouldn’t be really appropriate to call you by your first name”, you paused for a moment, watching his face and thinking for a brief moment that it almost looked like he was sulking. “Plus the other ones still call you Master Geto.”

“Mhm but that is different”, he sighed, confusing you even more. Different how? “And, if you insist that I’m your leader, then I give you the order to call me by my first name. You can’t resist my orders, can you?”

You let out a sigh in return, sounding exhausted, though you weren’t sure from what exactly. Maybe it was time to go for you, feeling like you’d lose your mind the longer you were with him in his current (incredibly irresistible) state.

“I believe I have to go now, Suguru. I have to be up early tomorrow.” You carefully got up from your sitting position and turned your back to him, and just as you were about to walk towards the door, you were suddenly held back and placed on the floor again, making you let out a gasp.

Strong arms were wrapped around your waist, holding onto your stomach, lightly squeezing, but still considerate with their touch. Geto’s scent enveloped you, something earthy and fresh, and just so addictive. It smelled like home. The warmth he radiated surrounded you, you were able to feel his broadness and his muscles against your body, reminding you of a shield rather than a cage. You didn’t believe you ever felt so secure.

“Don’t go.”  

“Suguru…”

“Stay here. S’comfortable when you’re around.” Oh.

You tilted your head, looking over your shoulder to get a glimpse of his face, only for your nose to almost touch his cheek. A shiver ran down your spine. His eyes were half-lidded, pupils dilated, and his eyebrows slightly furrowed; he appeared almost pained. As if the mere thought of you leaving him would hurt him deeply. You felt your knees getting weaker and you became overly aware of the way you were breathing, trying to tell yourself to take normal, regular breaths.

“Say: do you like being here?”, you felt his warm breath hitting your bare nape as he lowered his head, your hair standing up and goosebumps covering your body. “Do you ever regret joining me?”

Surprised by his sudden questioning, you raised your eyebrows. “Have I given you the impression that I did?”

His thin lips dropped into something resembling a pout. “Answer my question.”

You resisted the urge to poke his forehead, instead holding your hands still by your sides, lightly grazing his arms that were still wrapped around you, his finger caressing your covered stomach in soothing circles. “No, I never regretted joining you. In fact, I believe it was the best thing that could have happened to me.”

He hummed, somewhat satisfied by your answer yet still skeptical.

“You could have lived a simpler life.”

“Sure, perhaps I could have lived a life in blissful ignorance”, you huffed. “But I also would have lived the rest of my life wondering what’s wrong with me. Maybe I would have become mad at some point. You gave me the answers I needed, and more. You gave me purpose.”

Geto was sure – sooner or later Satoru would have discovered you and taken you under his wing. You would have become a jujutsu sorcerer; putting your life at risk, just to save monkeys who neither cared nor were even aware of your existence. No, he couldn’t have allowed this. The thought made his skin crawl, images of you being life stock haunting his mind. You were made for something better, you deserved more than that, to be untainted and free from the shackles of jujutsu society. Only he could give you that. Perhaps he was selfish in that way, for needing to have you by his side, but he would gladly indulge in that selfishness if it promised your proximity to him and your safety.  

You directed your stare towards the ceiling, a contemplative expression grazing your features. “I guess you saved me.”

You couldn’t see how his eyes were now less drowsy and became bigger, a sparkle appearing in them, and how the colors in his already reddened cheeks seemed to deepen.

“Saved you, huh”, he murmured under his breath, voice coming out muffled as he tucked his chin further into your shoulder, almost nuzzling you. Your heart stuttered at the contact, cursing him internally for touching you so casually, for acting so intimate with you.

“I’ll always keep you safe. That’s a promise. No filth should ever touch or harm you.”

“That’s quite a big promise.”

His hand grabbed your chin then, a gentle yet firm grip, the sheer size of his large palm covering it, fingertips barely grazing your bottom lip. He held your gaze, so intense and unwavering that it made your throat dry and afraid to swallow. “I mean it.”

“Alright”, you whispered, as if it was a secret only the two of you should know, forming an invisible string that held you together. “I’ll hold you to it.”

[7ndipity]

Their Ideal Types

Ot7

Summary: What I believe the members ideal types would be.

Warnings: Swearing, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! Please bear in mind tho that these are just my personal opinions, based on what I’ve observed from their personalities and with some references to their astrology charts(if you’re not into that, just ignore those points on each list)

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jin:

His Capricorn venus means that he’s a little old fashioned in his style of romance, which I think reflects in his statements in the past about being a classic hopeless romantic. He wants someone who he can sweep off their feet and eventually settle down with.

I don’t think he has a huge preference on age, I feel like he’d kinda want either a little older/younger rather than the same age tho.

He’s said once that he wanted someone a little on the chubby side(granted, this was years ago, so I don’t know if that’s still true), he also strikes me as someone who would be drawn more to the classic ‘girly’ vibe(pastel colors, flowy layers, fluffy sweaters, etc) but I think the main vibe he’d look for in a partner is comfort. I don’t quite know how else to describe it other than ‘Ghibli vibes’ if that makes sense?

He would want someone with a classy/graceful air, who’s confident in themselves and not afraid to take the lead sometimes and stand up for themselves.

Someone mature, but not too serious, with a good sense of humor and who’s not afraid to be silly sometimes. Someone affectionate, but not overly clingy.

Someone patient and understanding, who makes it easy for him to open up and be vulnerable.

Yoongi:

Pisces are already very deep feeling signs, but coupled with his Venus in Aries, Yoongi can sometimes come off rather intense in regards to relationships. He’s very matter of fact about his feelings sometimes, and I think he wants someone who can match his frankness. He doesn’t have patience for mind games, if you’re into him, fucking say it.

He’s said before that he doesn’t really have a type, at least when it comes to physical appearances or styles. Imo tho, I feel like he would be into someone with a casual, more tomboyish style(oversized hoodies/sweaters, layered shirts, sneakers, shorter hair)

Doesn’t really have a preference on age either.

He’s said before that he wanted someone similar to himself, with a deep passion for music and creating. Obviously, that doesn’t mean you have to be a professional artist/musician(I actually think he would prefer someone outside the industry, or at least outside the Idol/Kpop sphere), but he definitely needs someone who’s a fellow creative type who can understand that side of him.

Someone patient and warm, with an infectious energy that can help bring his mood up(kinda like Hobi), with a sharp sense of humor like his own.

I think he would like someone who’s somewhat independent, who knows what they want and isn’t willing to take shit from anyone.

Hobi:

His Pisces Venus means he’s very go with the flow when it comes to relationships, so he would want something very relaxed, without any chase or mind games, or anything too rushed either. He wants someone he can just ‘be’ with.

I think he’d prefer someone slightly younger, not significantly tho, just a couple years or so.

I think he’d be into someone ‘cute’, though maybe not necessarily in fashion sense, moreso just their general energy. Style-wise, I think he’d like someone who similar taste as him, more streetwear type clothes.

Someone bright and easygoing, who’s equally happy with going out or staying at home and doing nothing. Someone energetic, who not afraid to be silly at times.

Someone very sweet, kind and gracious(lowkey think he would be into the “mom friend” personality)

He’s said before he wanted to feel cherished in a relationship, so I think he would want someone he can take care of, big fan of skinship(bordering on a little clingy). Someone who makes him feel needed/wanted, who dotes on him over little things.

Namjoon:

Namjoon is like a textbook Virgo, very grounded and practical. However, his Venus in Scorpio means he’s quite intense emotionally and sexually, so he would want a partner that can balance or match his intensity.

I think he would prefer someone his age or slightly younger.

I remember Jk saying once that Joon was into the ‘cute but sexy’ vibe, and I think that’s still true to an extent, he finds people with range very attractive. I don’t know that he really has a preferred style, maybe something more simplistic like his?

He would definitely like someone confident and independent, who can hold their own in a conversation or argument, but still polite and open minded. Someone that can challenge him and his own perceptions.

Someone intelligent, career/goal driven, and creatively minded, someone who he can go to museums/art exhibits with.

I think he would also really like someone who’s into fitness and working out like he is(lowkey loves the idea of gym dates), but it’s not a necessity for him.

Jimin:

He’s a classic Libra to his core(which I love abt him but it also drives me crazy). As much as he loves to tease, he doesn’t have the patience for too much chase or playing hard to get. He wants someone who’ll be honest about their feelings.

I think he would want someone close to his age, a little older/younger doesn’t make much difference to him.

He said before that he tends to prefer cuter appearance/vibes, but with his Venus in Scorpio, I think he would be drawn to someone with a bit of a darker, sensual contrast in their personality or looks, kinda like him.

He’s a hopeless romantic,(his favorite movies are the Notebook and Like Crazy, he’s a major softie) wants someone he can fall with and yeah, be a bit melodramatic with.

Someone warm, but slightly introverted, maybe even a little shy. Someone kind, open minded, and patient, but willing to stand up and speak their mind when they need to.

Someone who makes him feel needed(another Libra trait) Someone who can keep up with, or even match, his flirty nature.

Taehyung:

As an Aquarius Venus, he tends to be drawn towards people with unique, unconventional beauty/style. He wants someone who’s not afraid to go against the norm to be themselves(tho he would love it if you have similar love for vintage aesthetic like him)

Idk why, but he gives me “When Harry met Sally” vibes. Like, despite his fascination with romanticism as an aesthetic, I think he really prefers to go the friends to lovers route. He wants someone he feels comfortable with first and foremost. He falls slowly and then all at once.

I don’t think he has much preference on age, but he’d probably like someone his age or maybe slightly older.

I think he’d kinda be into the “mom friend” personality. I’ve said it before, he really likes being taken care of, even if it’s just in little ways like fixing his hair or buttoning his coat before he leaves in the morning.

Someone slightly more extroverted, who makes friends easily, likes kids and animals.

Someone sensitive and mature, but who he can still be goofy and random with, who’ll play along with his skits and tangents(like jimin does)

Jungkook:

Although he seems more drawn towards classic feminine style, I think he’d actually find someone with a similar style to his really attractive, even if it’s just in color palette. I don’t think he really has a type stylistically tho.

Despite Libra Venus’ tendency to look for partners that they have an immediate connection with, they actually prefer the ‘friends to lovers’ route, and I think that’s very accurate for him.

He’s kinda into the chase(literally the entire Seven video like👀), so he likes a partner that plays a little hard to get and teases/challenges him sometimes, but only sometimes.

I think he’d prefer someone his age, or maybe even a little older(He has a noona/hyung kink, I will die on this hill)

Like Joon, I think he’d really appreciate who’s into fitness/working out/boxing(lowkey, if you can hold your own wrestling with him, he’s got heart eyes)

Someone confident, independant, and artistic with a good sense of humor. Someone well mannered and patient(rudeness is an instant turnoff for him). Someone who can challenge him, but in a gentle, non-critical manner.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | October 1st-13th 2024

Hope all my fellow Canadians had a good long weekend! Had a week from hell last week so I didn't have time to put up the rec, and it's even a bit late for today, but I did it!

If you know anyone who's not tagged, please don't hesitate to tag them in the comments!

Complete

Siri, Call... by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Sickfic | 1,5K | General): Buck is sick and needs to call for help.

for thy true-love take by lecornergirl/ @clusterbuck (Outsider POV, Established buddie | 2K | Teen): OR: Chimney Han and the ethics of slipping your coworkers love potions

watch out, you might get what you're after by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Getting Together | 2K | Mature): Buck unintentionally woos Eddie. And then has a hell of a time processing the way he feels about that.

i hate accidents (except when we went from friends to this) by bellabrady (Getting Together | 2K | Not Rated): Or: How Buck and Eddie's first kiss leads to someone calling the police on them.

Put To Good Use by kittyeddie (PWP, BDSM | 3K | Explicit): Or, Buck and Eddie finally have a kid-free day at home, and take advantage of every second of it

At First Scent by Inell/ @inell (Urban Fantasy AU | 4K | Teen): When Buck visits Maddie, he meets Chris, a magic user needing his sister’s help learning how to use his powers. He also meets Eddie, Christopher’s dad, and feels a connection that he’s only ever dreamed of finding.

Bears, and Foxes, and a Three-Legged Bobcat by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Pre-Buddie, First Date | 4K | General): Buck and Eddie go on a non-date date to a wildlife park. Cuteness ensues.

Just Right by Inell/ @inell (Future fic, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): After getting injured on a call, Buck wakes up the next morning and tries to piece together what happened, accidentally changing his relationship with Eddie in the process.

to adam, from your ribs by justhockey (S8, Getting Together | 4K | General): And the thing is, Buck is so good at being alone; he’s been doing it almost his whole life. But when he’s reminded of the way love tastes, drizzled like honey on your tongue - the way it feels, like the warm glow of sunlight on your skin. That is when he truly aches. Not the breaking, because he’s done that a thousand times over. It’s the knowing that really does him in. The having, for just a little while, before it’s snatched away so quickly he can still feel the burn on his fingertips from trying to hold on.

Hall Pass by Inell/ @inell (Post-S7, Getting Together | 5K | Teen): After Buck and Eddie take Jee and Mara trick or treating, Chim and Maddie play a trick of their own to help Buck finally make a move on Eddie.

it's leading me on, every time we touch by lightyears (Post-S6, Getting Together | 5K | Explicit): Eddie doesn’t think anything of it when he reaches across the table to pile some pasta onto his plate, says, “Just my back. It’s been giving me a bit of trouble.” “You’re hurt, Eddie?” Bobby asks him, and Eddie’s sure that his intention isn’t to capture the rest of the team’s attention, but by way of being Captain, it happens anyway. “I promise, Cap. I’m good. But if it helps, I can go speak with a doctor, make sure nothing else is going on.” Chim chirps up: “A physio probably makes more sense than a doctor.” “Or an occupational therapist,” Ravi suggests, and Eddie’s sure it’s to stave off a Chim-Hen showdown. “Even a massage therapist would probably help.” And then Maddie says, “Buck used to be a massage therapist” and everyone goes quiet, heads all swinging in Buck’s direction.

sweet sunbursts of flesh pink magic by Underhung_Aura/ @eddiebabygirldiaz (Canon Divergent, Witch Buck, Sex Pollen | 5K | Explicit): Buck’s magic has always been a bit volatile. Jittery. Fluctuating. A touch reckless. Messy and bright and loud. Maddie says that a person’s magic is supposed to match the person themselves, that the form it takes isn’t happenstance or random, that it’s a reflection of your purest self, an extension of your soul that you can manipulate. Safe to say, Buck’s never cared for that assessment. or, buck has magic and eddie gets doused with sex pollen

Happy Accident by Inell/ @inell (Post-S8E01: Buzzkill, Friends to Fiances | 6K | Teen): When Buck gets some good news, he accidentally kisses Eddie, which leads to a conversation that changes their relationship.

Kissing On The Corner, Wait For Just A Minute by fruitsdoesnotknow/ @tayf-ghost (Secret Relationship | 6K | Teen): Buck and Eddie think they're so smooth. They're cool, calm, collected. Normal, in fact. Just two normal best friends. Nothing to see here. Nobody is convinced.

Does it bite at your edges? by noxeratum (Infidelity, Post-S7, Getting Together | 6K | Explicit): Eddie Diaz is so repressed that he thinks his jealousy is bigotry and feels bad about it.

Talk Dirty to Me by ameliahart (Post-S7, FWB | 6K | Explicit): In which Buck has recently ended things with Tommy, Eddie wants to explore his sexuality, and they decide to start sleeping together. As friends, of course.

Through the Looking Glass by jukoist/ @beforejuko (Post-S8E01: Buzzkill, Getting Together | 6K | General): Buck likes Tommy. He does! And he definitely isn't in love with Eddie. He's just... worried. Because Eddie keeps vanishing on Sundays, leaving Buck with the boyfriend he definitely likes as much as he should. Everything is fine. Or, a post 8x01 coda.

Basics, Understanding Basics by fruitsdoesnotknow/ @tayf-ghost (Post-S7, Getting Together | 7K | Teen): Chris gets sick, loses part of his memory, and reassures Eddie and Buck they can still kiss in front of him. That's really thoughtful of him, except for the fact that Eddie and Buck aren't dating.

🔥All The Things You Want From Me by giselleslash/ @gigi-gigi (Post-S7, Getting Together | 7K | Teen): “Can I ask you something?” Eddie shrugs. “Sure.” Tommy looks nervous, unsure. Tommy never looks nervous, or unsure. “Do you think Evan would move in with me if I asked him?” (Or the one where Eddie feels Buck slipping through his fingers and can’t let him go, so he tells him not to move in with Tommy and blows everything apart.)

My Carpet’s Got Crop Circles by fruitsdoesnotknow/ @tayf-ghost (Eddie & Karen, Getting Together | 9K | Teen): Or, five times Karen tries to use wine nights to get Eddie and Buck together, and the one time she didn't need to.

🔥Late Fines by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Librarian!Buck | 12K | Teen): Buck is a children's librarian at the branch closest to Eddie's house. When he gets himself involved in the lives of a cute kid and his handsome single dad, he gets a glimpse of what he wants in life. It might just take a few years to get it.

Eddie Diaz VS The Buck's Boyfriend Agenda by songbvrd/ @songbvrd (Post-S7, BuckTommy Break-Up | 23K | Mature): Eddie starts gathering information about why no one trusts Tommy. As he grows to hate their relationship more, he learns more about himself and what he wants.

🔥 ice cream before dinner by cloudydaisies (Post-S7, Getting Together | 58K | Teen): or, gerrard messes with the team's schedules and eddie 'i just drove my son to flee the state' diaz is the only option to watch mara and jee-yun after school on tuesdays, which, shouldn't be a problem at all, right?

🔥 Any Other Way by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, S2 | 102K | Mature): In a switcheroo alternate universe, Buck spends young adulthood in the military, while Eddie, who has no idea Christopher exists, spends his twenties messing around, finally enjoying freedom away from his family’s expectations. When they both end up in Los Angeles, at the 118, some things are different, and others will be the same in any universe.

WIP

Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 5/? | 32K | Explicit): In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path.

🔥 go and kill, go and die by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Zombie Apocalypse AU | 9/14 | 40K | Mature): The 118 are a group of survivors in a small California town in the wake of a zombie apocalypse. For months they've been isolated and safe. But the arrival of some new players, the search for some missing loved ones, will shake everything up and put their little team in jeopardy.

Podfic

[Podfic] déjà vu by NC Pods (N0Connections)/ @n0connections // fic by peaktotheocean/ @peaktotheocean (S7E07: Ghost of a Second Chance | 10-20min | General): It is completely possible that Buck put too much thought into buying his couch. But Eddie can’t think of anyone else in his life who would buy a couch just so his kid would be comfortable.

🔥 [Podfic] With a Little Help From my Friends by MeggieJolly/ @meggiejolly // fic  by extasiswings/ @extasiswings (Post-S3, Feelings Realization | 10-20min | Teen): “You know…several of us parents get together once, maybe twice a month or so. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like. I can add you to the email chain.” Not for the first time that day, Eddie’s surprised. It’s not that he’s opposed, more that the invitation is unexpected. He’s not particularly social—when he is it’s with the team or with Buck or with his family, all of them in each other’s houses, in each other’s lives both at work and away from it. Outside of them… It occurs to him that he’s never really known how to make friends. [Or: Eddie makes friends outside of work and realizes that Buck might not, in fact, be just a friend]

🔥 as lucky as us [Podfic] by blackglass/ @blackestglass // fic by hammersmiths/ @henswilsons (Ravi POV, S7 | 20-30min | General): One of the first things Ravi learned when joining the 118 was to, under no circumstances, think too hard about Buck and Eddie’s relationship. But brother, they could try make his job easier. “I mean, I get it,” Buck’s saying, overhead, and Ravi’s knee-deep in literal human crap and even he can smell that shit from a mile away. “You and Tommy have a lot in common.” or, Ravi continually suffers as a third-wheel.

🔥 [podfic] baby, can i hold you? by All_I_Ask/ @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove // fic by fleetinghearts / @shitouttabuck (pre-Buddie, angst/comfort | 30-45min | Teen): Eddie’s eyes are squeezed shut, and Buck feels something inside him crack when this helpless, devastated sob wracks his body, eyelashes clumped with tears he’s not letting fall. “What do you need?” Buck asks again. “What can I do?” Eddie makes a frustrated noise. “I don’t know. I don’t know why this won’t stop.” or, eddie panics. buck holds him.

🔥 Heart, I Implore You [Podfic] by ReformedTsunderePodfics (ReformedTsundere)/ @film-in-my-soul // fic by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampire Eddie, PWP | 45-60min | Explicit): When Buck finds out his best friend isn't exactly human, he volunteers to help keep Eddie from dying. It's definitely just to keep Eddie from dying. No other reason. None whatsoever.

Re-Read

Down to the Bones of Me by giselleslash/ @gigi-gigi (Post-S7E10: All Fall Down | 5K | Teen): The morning after Christopher leaves Eddie gets in his truck and drives. Buck lets him go, and Eddie fights to come back for both of them.

[pinksobg]

How to atract better the lover|love you so deserve

already in a relationship and single reading

for reflection only. hope it resonates and you enjoy. hope you all are doing very well :)

pile one - singles -

dolphin - 20 - true.

When meeting someone new, preferably tell the truth from the beginning and don't settle for anything less than respect for the person you are from the beginning. The advice is to be spontaneously you, the carefree energy, being true to your personalities and tastes. "I like this, I like that, I don't like this".

hermit - get to know yourself, and you can even reinvent yourself or, better yet, another skill or quality of yours, valuing your individuality.

the moon reverse - the tip is to also think about the practical, logical and tangible world and not just (and only) feelings. a balance between reason and emotion is advisable.

6 of Wands reversed - if necessary, correct your postures that harmed you in the past.

-----

in a relationship -

v

27 - fox - think quickly

30 - grasshopper - take a leap of faith

The advice from the cards here are basically to invest in your relationship. analyzing the responses you give to your partner on a daily basis or when you meet. If you tend to respond impulsively to a text message, for example, when you're angry, try taking a step back: take a break to do something else and then analyze the situation again: "Should I really talk like that?" "Now, do I understand myself and my partner better?"

about the grasshopper. Both, seek to strengthen trust in the relationship. whether with open conversations or questions, like, "what do you think we can improve in our relationship?"

I wish the best for you! If necessary, seek professional help. trust yourself. 

-------------------------------------------------

pile 2 - singles -

39 - moth - surrender.

connect with your spirituality.

38 - lizard - make your dream come true.

The advice is to go after a dream, especially if it's a good old dream that you still want to fulfill. It can also be going to a place, doing a hobby that you've always dreamed of, when and if possible.

what great messages!

hierophant - if you want, try to avoid listening to the unnecessary judgments and prejudices of others. live well according to your values, value them, if you want, value and/or invest in your lifestyle.

king of wands - take action when necessary and do the things you are passionate about, or add passion/love/appreciation towards your actions.

7 of Wands - stay true to yourself, protect yourself with healthy boundaries.

-- in a relationship -

oh, yes!

31 - groundhog - time to forget

reverse judgement, page of hearts, the fool, 7 of hearts, 4 of hearts.

well then! the message is apparently advice to learn to forgive your partner if necessary and if you want to<. especially if there are past hurts. learn to forgive and be forgiven. either with a frank conversation and/or inner meditation on the events.

It is advisable here to connect with new people: friends, family. even beloved animals. Receiving loving energy from other people or areas of your life can be beneficial to your healing process.

explore more, have a snack with a friend, visit family, pet a beloved animal, whatever you want. take yourself for going out.

If you like the idea, talk to your partner about it, about forgiveness and each other being able to have a good moment of individuality if this is your case (or one of these is your case).

I wish all the best! Seek professional help if necessary. take good care of yourself.

----------------------------------------

pile 3 - singles -

oh! sharpen mind! good!

38 - lizard - make your dream come true

Ask yourself what your ideal life, your ideal relationship, would be like. How can you contribute to your good dreams right now?

12 - canary - sing your own song

invest in self-love and listening to yourself

queen of spades - again, assertiveness and honesty in your reading. Don't accept less than you deserve and speak for yourself when you want/necessary

10 of swords - if you want, heal yourself from past pains; as with good physical and mental rest

hope you be a lot of happy!

-----

in a relationship -

31 - groundhog - time to forget

24 - eel - bring your ideas to life

the advice in the cards is to learn to also listen to your voice in the relationship, also value yourself, your ideas. You are also a person who deserves to be heard and valued. Another piece of advice from the cards is to learn to forgive and be forgiven. These achievements, improving the relationship, if you wish, can be done with a little more self-love, investigation of your own feelings, desires, needs and ideas. Don't feel alone and seek help if necessary and desired. open and calm communication, preferably, about these important issues such as forgiveness, emotional responsibility, etc., can help your relationship if that is the need. remember that you are important and valid.

If necessary, seek professional help and be very happy, giving yourself more peace and a voice.

[dragon-kazansky]

The song in our hearts

Lestat De Lioncourt x Female Reader

A musician with a heart that sings and an admirer who wishes to see his songbird thrive. Two beings in different worlds get caught up in each other when someone threatens to steal his songbird's spotlight. Loving Lestat isn't simple, and your life will never be the same again. What is eternity without chaos?

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Seven - Eleanor

You aren't seen by Amelie all week. The first glimpse she gets of you is at the theater that following Friday. You hadn't told her you had spent almost every night in Lestat's home. That would definitely give her ideas, and you didn't need that right now.

She follows you into your dressing room. You take a seat at your table and look at your reflection. You're looking a little paler than before.

“Are you alright?” Amelie asks softly. She could tell she was worried about you. “I went to your house a couple times, you weren't there.”

You turn and look at her. “I've been… busy.”

Amelie comes closer and takes your hand in hers. “Busy?”

“I've just got a lot going on.”

She presses her hand to your forehead. “You look a little off, but you don't seem to have a temperature. Do you need anything? Water? Food? To rest a little?”

You shake your head. “No. I'm okay.”

“If you're sure…” Amelie doesn't look convinced. She steps away and takes her leave.

You slump agaiant your dressing table and sigh, fingers digging into your hair. All week you have been sneaking off to Lestat's to simply be with him. To let him taste you. To let him hold you.

God, the way his arms felt around you was a dream. You wanted nothing more than that in life. Well, there was perhaps more you could want to do with him. He certainly knew as much.

‘Are you alright, Chéri?’ 

His voice is in your head. He seems to know every thought and feeling you have. You find you don't mind quite as much. 

‘You're thinking a lot. Don't worry, mon amour.’

My love. That was the first time he had called you that.

A knock at your door makes you jump and turn around to see who it was. “Come in.”

The door opens and Jack enters. You offer him a smile and he smiles in return. “Amelie looked worried. Are you okay?” He asks.

“I assure you, I am well.”

‘More than well.’

You ignore Lestat in your mind.

“No one has seen or heard anything from you all week.”

‘I have certainly heard you.’

“No. I'm sorry. I've been busy. I'm still here though.” You smile again.

“Good. You're my best performer. You and that piano are my stars.”

‘The brightest star I have ever seen.’

You smile, but who you're smiling from is the question. You know who.

“I'll let you get ready.” Jack leaves you alone to prepare. 

You look at yourself in the mirror and stare hard at your reflection. You smile at yourself.

The magician on stage takes a bow, and people applaud. Lestat watches with disinterest. He doesn't care for anyone else in this show. He wants to see his shining star. His darling. His music maker.

The stage clears and the lights turn to the manager, Jack. He babbles for a little while and then addresses the crowd with open arms. Lestat leans forward in his seat, a proud grin on his lips.

Your name is announced.

The curtain open to reveal your piano in place and as Jack exists the stage, you come on. Lestat can't teat his eyes away from you. You're wearing a gorgeous gown and around your neck is that ruby red necklace he gave you months ago.

Your eyes find his own and he winks at you from his box. You're gorgeous.

You take a bow and sit down at your piano. A few moments of silence fill the room before you fill the air with your beautiful music. You're playing his song again. Lestat smiles. If this was a declaration, he was listening.

Everyone in the room was hanging on to every note. You had them completely wrapped up in your magic. You were the siren and they were the sailors.

You played for the next half hour. You enchanted every soul in the room.

Lestat had fallen even more for you.

When your time was done you took a bow and left the stage. Lestat, as usual, leaves his box. He's waiting for you at your dressing room before anyone else. You smile as he reaches out and caresses your cheek gently with his fingers. His touch is ghostly, so light you could barely feel it.

As Lestat leans in, almost as if to kiss you, you're both interrupted by a voice. You both turn to see a young woman, mid twenties at least, looking at you.

“Excuse me, I don't suppose you know where Noah is? I didn't see him in the show tonight and I wanted to speak to him.”

You feel yourself go stiff. Lestat grabs your arm gently and smiles at the woman. “Who is asking?”

“My name is Eleanor. I'm Noah's sister. I wrote to him to tell him I was coming to see him perform, but I didn't get a response, at least not one that arrived in time.” She shuffles on the spot slightly. “I was disappointed to see he was not on stage tonight. Don't suppose you know where he's staying?”

You turn your eyes to Lestat for help. What were you supposed to say? ‘Oh gosh, we're so sorry, you see, your brother was being an ass and Lestat decided to feed on him until he was dead.’

Yeah, that would go down well.

“Did you not hear? He left,” Lestat tells her.

The woman visibly deflates. “He did? No, I hadn't heard.”

Lestat keeps his hand on your arm to keep you calm. “Perhaps his letter had yet to reach you.”

“Possibly,” she sighs.

Lestat feels you grabbing at the sleeve and puts on a polite expression for Eleanor. “If you don't mind, we are just leaving.”

She looks between you both and steps back, getting the message. “Of course. Forgive me. I better contact home and see if Noah got through. Thank you kindly, both of you.”

Lestat takes your hand and guides you past the young woman. You're holding onto him tight. He can feel your panic just from the touch of your hand.

Once you're out of the theater you drag him into the alley nearby. 

“Shit, Shit, Shit!” You hiss out. “What are we gonna do?”

“Nothing,” he replies nonchalantly. 

“Nothing?” You stare at him in disbelief. “You killed her brother and she's looking for him!”

Lestat shrugs. “So? She'll never find him. I disposed of the body.”

“Oh my God!”

“He can't help you.”

You glare at the vampire. “This isn't funny! I'm the last person Noah went to see. No one knows you were involved!”

“Calm, Chéri. All will be well. No harm shall come to you.” He holds your face in his cold hands.

“Lestat…”

“Shh. If you keep on worrying you'll get wrinkles.” He taps your nose with his finger. “Do you want that?”

“Stop messing around.” You wave his hands away from your face. “Someone has to take things seriously around here.”

“Why? Nothing to worry about. You'll see.”

You almost hate how unbuttered he is by this, but at the same time, how many times has he done this before? Lestat was a clever man. He surely chose his victims carefully. If people kept on disappearing from the same place, flags would be raised. 

“I trust you,” you say softly.

Lestat grins. “That's what I like to hear. Now, back to mine for a nightcap?”

You roll your eyes and go with him.

When you get back to his house, Lestat can tell you're still freaking out over Eleanor's presence in town. You're all figgity in your seat. Lestat sighs and holds out the glass of wine in front of your face. When you don't take it from him he places it on the table beside you.

“I can make you forget,” he offers.

“Forget?”

“About Eleanor and her questions.”

“That might make things worse,” you sigh. You didn't want to forget that the family of a dead man was out there searching for him.

“Just for tonight.” Lestat leans over, his lips brushing along your ear. You feel a shiver run down your spine. 

He closes the distance between you both and wraps his arms around you so smoothly. You fall into his embrace with ease. Whatever line there was between you before had been crossed, and you knew there was no going back. Lestat kisses along your jaw, your breathing came out in small little pants. He had you right where he wanted you.

“Lestat,” he name falls from your lips with ease.

“Shh.” He whispers in your ear. “Tonight you are mine and I am yours.”

His lips press against your own with desire. Long awaited desire. From this single kiss you knew he had been waiting a long time for this. Lestat had had his eyes on you for a while now. It was only a matter of time before he got what he wanted. Lestat could be patient when he wanted to be.

He pulls you into his lap and brings your bodies closer together. It's like a magnetic force bringing you together. You follow after his lips, your hands grab onto him wherever they can. Lestat lets you chase after every part of him that you want.

Your fingers dig into his hair as he pulls you to sit up in his lap. He lifts you up enough so he can lay you down and climb on top of you. His lips leave yours to trail back down your jaw and then your neck. Your back arches as he goes lower, down to your collarbone. His hands stay firm on your hips.

You're about to forget your own damn name, that's for sure.

His large hands go wandering under your clothes. You've never found yourself in this position before. Lestat had you feeling all kinds of ways.

You gasp as he sucks on the spot he bit you from last time you were here. The skin there was sensitive and had you shaking under him.

“Ma petite beauté.”

He speaks in a low voice. He's using every ounce of his charms to keep you with him. It's working.

His fingers pluck at your clothes. You don't even move to stop him. He smirks against your skin.  He's about to undo the buttons but there's firm knocking at the door.

Lestat lifts his head. You look up at him. “Don't answer it.”

“Chéri, I do not get guests.” He looks at you.

You hear the knock again and Lestat rises from the couch. He fixes his hair and stalks slowly toward the door. You sit up and fix your clothes, missing the touch of his lips on your skin.

Lestat opens the doors. You watch from your spot on the sofa. He doesn't say anything as she steps back and lets the person inside.

Amelie.

You stand up quickly and hurry over to her. “What are you doing here?”

“I knew you would be here.” She looks you up and down. “I didn't know where else to go.”

You place your hands on her shoulders and look at her. Lestat watches from the door. He remains quiet as you talk to her.

“It's about Noah… the police came to the theater. His sister called them after finding his apartment. He's gone missing.”

You stare at her. Lestat can see the panic in your eyes. Eleanor was causing him problems. He is normally a little more clever when it comes to his victims.

“What… what's happening?” You ask.

“They're saying kidnap, but… they're also gonna look for a body… It was awful. They were all over the theater lookin’ for clues.”

You glance at Lestat who holds your gaze with a sharp look. You turn back to Amelie. “Let me walk ya home.”

Amelie nods and follows you out. Lestat doesn't even get to kiss you goodbye.

@awanderingghost @theprettiesthead @cosmixstar @theblueslytherin @katherine2098 @sawendel @floofdeloop @sitkafay @bigbaddie45 @bluscryn

@secretisme4 @darkqueen1995 @bridkesby @caribbeangal @sarcasticandfangirl @missjadesfics @kaybart19

[blakeswritingimagines]

Dear Y/N

My dearest

How many days have I spent in your thoughts and dreams? How many nights have I spent with you in my heart? Just a glimpse of you, and you had immediately become the center of my world. You are my only reason to exist, there is nothing in this world that can replace you. All I want is for us to be together, for me to be yours and you only mine. How I wish I could hold you in my arms, and keep you close to me until the end of time. My love for you is so intense that it defies all logic. It consumes my every thought, it burns through my entire body. You are the reason I live, the reason I fight. Your smile, your eyes, your soul, you are everything. There is not a single day that goes by that I don’t think of you, there is no dream I don't have about us. Being apart from you feels like a fate worse than death, you drive me wild, and you’re in my head all the time.

Every single second that I am away from you, feel like an eternity of suffering. I am constantly desperate for your presence. When I am near you, my body responds in the only way it can. I crave your touch, your embrace, the way your breath would feel on my skin, the way your body would fit against mine. The sound of your voice would drive me insane, I would do anything just to hear you say my name again. Your scent would be the only thing that I would be able to focus on, the way it would cling to my skin. The way you would wrap your arms around my neck, and how your body would feel in my arms, my mind would go blank. The sound of your laugh would be the only thing I would be able to hear. You would be the only thing in my mind, my only desire. Without you, I feel like I’m only half a man. I would give up everything just for you.

The feeling of you in my arms is the most wonderful experience in the entire world. When I hold you close, it’s like time stands still and I forget every worry, every pain. All I can focus on is how perfect you are, how perfect we are together, the way our souls connect on a level no one else could understand. I am completely under your spell, addicted to your presence. I am powerless to resist you. I want to feel the heat of your body against mine. I want to run my fingers through your hair and explore every inch of you with my lips. I want to wake up each morning, with you next to me, and see you as the first thing when I open my eyes. I want to be closer to you than anyone else in the world, closer than your own reflection. I want you all to myself and make sure the world knows you're mine. My world does not exist without you in it. You are like a drug that my soul is addicted to, I am obsessed with you and there is nowhere I would rather be than by your side. Your body is my temple, a place of worship and pleasure. My body is yours to do what you want with, I want you to devour me, to use me, I want to be yours and yours alone.

I need you, more than I need air, more than I need food or water, more than I need anything else in this world. I need to hear your voice, to feel your heart beating against mine, to taste your lips with every kiss. I want to spend every single moment of my life looking into your eyes, admiring every inch of you, loving you, and protecting you. You are the only one and will only ever be you, the one I would die for, and kill for. Every dream I have, every fantasy I imagined, every thought of the future, leads to you. I want to spend my life making sure you’re happy and safe. I would burn the world, just to see you smile, I would move mountains if it meant I could hold you in my arms. My world is nothing without you in it, a life without you is not a life worth living. You are my world, my obsession, my love. My thoughts are plagued by visions of you and me together. I imagine us living in a house by the sea, waking up to the sound of the waves, holding you in my arms every morning when we wake up. When I’m in battle I’ll picture your face, your beautiful eyes looking at me, and I fight harder to survive, so I can come back to you. When I close my eyes, you’re the only thing I want, you’re like a poison that is slowly infecting my heart and mind.

You have no idea what you do to me. There is not a single moment of the day that I don’t think of you. You drive me wild, the way your eyes light up, the way your hair falls over your face, the way your body moves. Your very presence makes me feel things I never thought I could feel. You have me wrapped around your finger, I will do anything you want, just to hear the words “I love you” from your lips. My love for you is like a fire, burning deep inside my soul. It consumes me, it courses through my veins, it ignites every cell in my body. My heart beats faster, my breath hitches in my lungs, and my body trembles when you’re near me. Your touch is like magic, it sends shockwaves through my entire body, setting every nerve ablaze. You have the power to break me and heal me all at the same time, to bring me to my knees. My body is yours to use as you want. I want to feel your hands all over me, your lips on mine, your fingers running through my hair and down my back. I want to feel your body pressed against mine, your skin touching mine, our hearts beating in time. I crave your touch like a drug, it’s an addiction that I can’t get enough of. Every cell in my body is alive with desire, yearning for your closeness. I am completely and utterly under your control, and I would do anything to keep it that way.

My love for you knows no boundaries, it is limitless and eternal.

I am entirely at your mercy, for there is nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for you. I am yours completely, every fiber of my being is intertwined with yours. I will love you until the day I die, and even beyond that. There is nothing in this world more important to me than you, you are my reason for existence. I am fully consumed by you, body and soul. I ache for your touch, your voice, your presence. Every thought, every dream, every desire leads me back to you. There is no power in this world that can quench the fire of my love for you, it is an inferno that rages inside me, consuming everything in its path. You are my world, my universe, my everything. And I would do anything, anything at all, just to be with you.

Yours eternally.

[yorutsuki]

Yan!Rise! Raph x Reader

[ Heavily Inspired by: Fried-milkfish (Please check out there work!)]

↳ Why did you think you could escape? Can't you see? Everything he's done is for your own good.

Tags:

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You tiredly stared at the motionless white ceiling, one you've seen too many times to count.

Your eyes were puffy and swollen red, your breaths slow and shallow. Small bandages were scattered onto the rugged floor as the wounds they once bandaged, were freshly scratched and smeared with blood.

You didn't know why you thought you could make it, you didn't understand why you even thought you had a chance in the first place. Just as your hand brushed against the cold metal cover, separating you from freedom, he dragged you back.

Raph was fortunately never the type to harm, well, you at least, but his outburst was...livid to say the least. He begged, shouted, yelled and eventually shards from a flying ceramic vase managed reflect it.

So here you laid, a white noise of defeat and hopelessness defeaning your ears. You lacked the motivation for doing anything, all your energy, drained.

Your hope lost on ever getting out of this hell hole.

Your eyes widened, hearing a knock on the door. You scrambled against the bed as it opened, a dreadful feeling washing over you as your heart sank, fearing the mutant you'd lay eyes upon.

"I brought food! Mikey made some soup with a side of pasta...it's a weird combination but it still tastes good!" The voice boomed with delight, humming as he set the tray of food down onto the floor. Glancing towards your form, his eyes landed to the messy pile of bandages and open wounds. He quickly sprinted towards you, grabbing the small med-kit from under the bed.

"Why would you do this!?" He hissed, his tone soft yet heavily concerned as he began to re-bandage your wound yet you remained silent.

The alligator turtle sighed, "well, you should eat up before the food gets cold." He spoke, reaching for the tray of food and bringing it closer.

A few seconds pass by as silence filled both your ears.

"You really should eat, the longer you wait, the colder it gets." He frowned but still no answer.

You wished he would just get the message.

With each passing moment, Raph grew more annoyed. "You need to eat." He demanded, pushing the try towards you yet you still didn't move. "Why won't you look at me." You only shrugged in response.

The turtle let out a annoyed sigh, "Look, if this is about last night, it was for you own safety. Do you know what could happen up there?!" He spoke, his voice raised with lowness but you couldn't give a damn. Being anywhere would be better than this prison of a 'home'.

"Answer me." He snarled, his teeth gritting with now irritation.

"I know that it would be better there than here in this shit hole.." You mumbled. Raph's brows furrowed, "But you don't. All i've been doing is keeping you safe, to keep you protected—"

"But you aren't. You've locked me up here against my will, won't even let me see anyone else—not even your brothers, because of your own fear. For fucks sake, I can't even do the simplest thing on my own without you having to watch over me like i'm some sort of—"

"No. You just can't see it! Everything i've done is to keep you from harms way and out of reach from things up there!" He retorted, getting up. "I've been up there too many times, I know what dangers lay on the surface, the whole reason why your down here is to protect you from them!" He snapped, his voice raised.

"How delusional can you be..."

"What?"

"Your so far stuck in your own ass that you actually believe this is keeping me safe—protecting me?" You hissed, anger surging through your core as you looked at him in disbelief.

"I'm not delusional." He spoke, his words laced with anger. You watched warily as he made his way towards the metal door. "Everything i've done is for you and your own good."

"And you will stay here whether you like it or not until you can understand that."

.

.

.

Erm, I actually hated that. It was doing fine at first then writers block hit and I just feel like most of it's a copy from Fried-milkfish's story. Might remake it (probably won't since procrastination hits like a truck) but if I do, it'll probably be different.

Anyways, first post in weeks! And I think I can say; it's a shit post. Though thank you for those who do enjoy it. Promise the next one will be better!

[sissyhopes]

The Trophy

Imagine a gilded cage. Like, really picture one in your head. What do you see?

Me, of course - but what else?

Anything? Some cushions, a little blanket? Entertainment? No? Just a little golden cage, and me?

It's not that different, then, from a regular cage, is it? Just some metal bars, and me - trapped inside.

When I first started working for Harrington & Co, I was eager, hungry for success, and completely unaware of the path life would take me down. I had always known my boss, Max Harrington, by reputation - he was a titan in the finance world, a man whose mere presence commanded respect. I turned down higher-paying jobs for the name recognition alone, hoping his renowned ferocity and charisma would rub off on me.

So, when Max took a special interest in me, I saw it as the break he had been waiting for. Exactly what I deserved.

At first, it was subtle. Appropriate, even. I was a kind of protégé, some middle-ranking grunt he'd seen something extraordinary in. Nobody really questioned it.

Max invited me to dinners with important clients, praising my quick thinking, my easy charm, and how I could hold my own in conversations that usually left junior associates gasping for breath. I felt like I was being groomed for leadership, rather than groomed for submission to him.

I was intoxicated by the attention, the warmth of Max's approval. He had grown up in a modest family. He was just like me: always striving for more. He knew as well as I did that Max Harrington represented the “more” I'd craved my entire life.

I suppose you don't get where he has in life without being able to turn opportunities to maximum advantage. Soon, the invitations became more frequent. Dinners at high-end restaurants turned into weekend getaways to exclusive resorts. He spared no expense, ensuring I experienced the luxury that came with being in his orbit. It was exhilarating at first - flights on private jets, tailored suits, five-star accommodations. I assumed this was part of grooming him for a bigger role in the company. After all, the closer you got to power, the more you absorbed it.

But something shifted. He went distant. Suddenly, I was back at my desk, with everyone else, working hard, with no attention from the big man upstairs. My middling salary couldn't stretch to the luxuries I'd tasted, and I felt the dull thud back to reality daily. Every bland, cheap meal. Every bus journey home from the office. I hungered for a return to the life I had savoured, if only for a brief moment.

I poured over everything I'd said, every action and decision, wondering what I did to lose his favour. I resisted the urge to try to contact him, making myself look needy, powerless - to make him think I'd done something wrong.

One night, after a few too many glasses of wine, and weeks of misery in my boring life, I felt the bravery I'd been lacking. "He'll appreciate me being direct," I told myself. "Just like he is." I texted his personal number, asking if I'd done anything wrong, and imploring him for the chance to prove I was worthy of my place under his wing.

He never responded. It was a bitter defeat, a rejection that undermined my self-confidence totally. I tried to maintain my work, but I was distracted, ashamed and disappointed. My supervisors noticed, and my appraisals reflected that. I knew Mr Harrington read every staff members' appraisals religiously, and knew I had once again let him down. It was a total humiliation - I knew exactly where I belonged.

One evening, after a particularly lavish dinner held to congratulate the management teams for a good year, Max avoided looking at me all evening. Knowing I was the lowest-performing in the team, I felt so unwanted I tried to sneak away earlier. And there he was, at the door, as if he'd anticipated my movements before I'd even decided on them.

He offered me a gift: a custom-made Rolex. “To show my appreciation,” Max said, his smile dripping with an affection that felt almost too personal, too intimate.

I accepted - what choice did I have? - though unease simmered under my gratitude. I brushed it off as some kind of imposter syndrome.

Surely, this was normal. If I wanted to rise to the top, I needed to embrace these perks, right? In any case, it reflected the faintest creaking of the door of opportunity. I knew I had to run through that door while it was still open. I might never get another chance.

The watch was embossed with pink stones around the face, and the band was engraved 'Pretty Baby'. I suppose it was originally a gift for someone else - it wasn't quite my style, and yes: it was a little embarrassing to wear it. But wear it I did: every single day. I wanted everyone else to know that the boss was looking out for me.

Then came the more personal requests. Max asked me to accompany him to exclusive events - not as a colleague, but as his plus-one. I found himself standing at Max's side during charity galas, private art showings, and high-society functions. At first, I convinced himself it was still part of the job, that these were networking opportunities, moments to rub shoulders with the elite.

But over time, I realised something. Max never introduced me as an employee. There was no mention of my work or my potential career progression. Not even my name. My presence became decorative, my role as silent as it was visible. The compliments Max lavished on me became more personal, less professional.

“You look just stunning in that suit,” Max would say, his eyes lingering just a little too long. “You're the perfect companion for these sort of things. I think we can assume - if you're willing, of course - that you'll be accompanying me for the forseeable. I'll have my assistant arrange for some wardrobe support for you. Maybe a stylist. Let's make sure you always look your very best.”

I blushed. It was the first thing he'd said directly to me all evening - the first thing anyone had, in fact. I felt cared for, but not respected. The words flashed across my mind, for the first time in panic. Pretty Baby.

Before I knew it, he was spending more time with Max outside the office than within it. The boundaries had totally blurred without my realising it.

My friends noticed the change. “Man, you've really hit the jackpot, huh?” one had commented, eyeing my expensive, feminine watch, the designer clothes Max had picked out for me as a "reward for all the hard work.”

But inside, I felt a growing discomfort, a sense that something had gone terribly wrong. I guess it was from the discomfort, actually. My suits were increasingly tailored away from my personal style - cinched waists, skinnier trousers with high waists and raised ankles - in pastel colours like baby blue, mauve, and a dusty pink. They felt feminine to me, and the discomfort pulsed through my body. At least nobody expected me to say anything. Just stand next to Max, smiling.

I had entered into this personal relationship with Max - because by now, that’s what it had become - thinking it would propel me forward in my career. But now, two years later, I wasn't any closer to that promotion he had been promised. If I asked, he would just wave away my concerns, like they didn't matter.

"No, no." he'd say, without looking at me. "I don't want you working more. You have an important role to play here."

My 'role' was clear: I was Max's accessory. Some kind of power symbol for him to show off.

The realisation hit him hard one night when they attended a high-profile charity auction. I had spent hours getting ready, picking out the right suit, ensuring my hair - now growing longer, as Mr Harrington instructed - was perfect. As they entered the grand ballroom, heads turned, and Max soaked up the attention as usual. But when people approached them, it was me they noticed.

“You two make such a handsome couple,” one wealthy and highly generous woman said with a wink.

I forced a smile, my stomach knotting as Max wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me closer. It was a gesture too intimate, too possessive.

I wanted to pull away, but the weight of everything Max had given him, the lifestyle I had become so accustomed to, pinned me in place. I realised that somewhere along the line, I'd forgotten how to say no to him.

Now, he knew that too.

In the quiet moments, I wondered when it had all changed. Had there been a moment when I could have stopped this? Should I have walked away before Max’s gifts became chains that bound me to this life? Or had I been a willing participant all along, seduced by the promise of wealth, power, and status?

The trousers were replaced with demure, knee-length pencil skirts. My shirts finally crossed the line into blouses. I wore court shoes, with two inch heels, into the office. My stylist taught me to apply makeup in two styles - office and formal.

Maybe that sounds like the moment I should have jumped off this runaway train, even if it hurt. The thing is: I was so far gone, I already knew my moment had passed. I didn't even know who he was anymore. So I kept letting him tell everyone else who I was, and contorting myself to fit the image.

The eager, ambitious man who had walked into Harrington & Co. two years ago had vanished, replaced by someone who wore expensive gowns, lived alone in a penthouse Max had insisted he move into, and played the role of the doting, adoring partner - though they never acknowledged the term aloud.

My career had become a shadow, something I barely thought about now. I wasn't obliged to come to the office anymore. My days were filled with social obligations, dinners, and luxurious trips with Max. On the outside, it looked perfect - he had everything he had ever wanted. But the cost had been higher than he realised. I had no independence. I had no status of my own. I just hung on his arm, silently, as an object of his power.

Somewhere along the way, I had become a trophy. I could see it in everyone's eyes. Elite circles are small, and so they'd all watched me closely over the years - from a confident, ambitious man, to a demure and silent pet. I knew what they thought of me.

It wasn’t just my professional ambitions that had died. It was my sense of self. The reluctance, the embarrassment that now consumed me was kept buried deep inside, masked behind the practiced, doll-like smile he wore in public. Max never asked if I was happy; he never questioned if I wanted this life. That didn't matter to him, so long as I knew my place and played along.

Now, every morning I wake up in the sprawling penthouse, looking out at the city skyline, and wonder how to pass the time. No work, no real friends, nothing to achieve. No hopes or dreams. Money helps, but the truth would nibble at my flesh constantly - I had traded the man I could have been for the guarantee of luxury, for comfort, for the hollow promise of a womanhood I never wanted, and that depended entirely on his whims.

And in the silence of our opulent life together, in those intimate nights when Mr Harrington accompanies me to my penthouse, in the deafening shadow of the whispers about me from the edges of ballrooms and galas each night, I had come to accept my role: Max’s trophy. Nothing more.

---

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[essentiallyleaf]

day 26. selfcest. with. miyeon.

854 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x futa!idol (???), selfcest, narcissist miyeon, supposedly a mostly comedic piece but at the same time it’s not very funny, narrator might sound too salty though really they’re just annoyed [beep beep cop out alert beep beep], the real cop out is that miyeon sounds awfully similar to me in this and that’s scary, okay maybe outside of the selfcest part, this entire fic is a huge cop out for me having zero creativity and wit to be honest, sorry for the excessively long tags i’ll stop now, no i won’t, yes i will, no i- okay not funny.

notes.

-5. honestlycantwaitfortheendofoctoberly, leaf.

Miyeon always wanted to write an autobiography, maybe a script, or rather, to get it written for her, ‘cause “Who’s got the time for that, y’knowhatImean?”, and definitely not because she hasn’t used pen and paper for anything other than autographs since she - barely - got out of high school; “Maybe a book of quotes, that could be quicker. What? Whose quotes, you asked? Mine, who else’s? HaHA”

Nah, her life is not really book material. It’s more like a b-movie (or, Bee even?), with all the bad jokes and none of the ironic laughs. This one time she was asked, if you could describe your entire life in a frame - one shot, one opportunity; would your mom be making spaghetti in it? - what would it be? With an intense glare and an abnormal amount of dramatic pauses in between she answered, probably me, in front of a mirror, side-eyeing my own reflection, y’kno, because I, am my only, enemy, the biggest obstacle, on the road to success; wow, that deserves a spot in the book.

It doesn’t come as a shock that a person like her had weird dreams, dreams where she randomly comes across a woman that looks exactly like her, and starts researching about her, trying to get more information, discover where the woman comes from, what she does in her life; it also doesn’t come as a shock that none of that is a product of her own imagination, she just really likes any film with Jake Gyllenhaal in it and can’t come up with any original ideas, even in the hours of the day when her unconscious is completely free and unbound from the chains of the real, or even of the realistic. Joining this exhibition of the unshocking, the first words that Miyeon utters when she gets to meet the woman (even in a dream, where every texture, every face is out of focus and blurred, where humans have twelve fingers and mushrooms have eight legs, she can see the woman’s features clearly - almost like she spent about the same amount of time in a day sleeping and looking in the mirror and could draw her own face blindfolded - and they exactly resembles her own) are “Oh my God, I look so beautiful”. So beautiful that she wants to feel the woman’s sharp, V-lined jaw, her perfectly angled, straight, thin nose, her thick, juicy, pink lips and fuck, how good they’d feel on-

Her tongue invades the double’s mouth like she’s about to have a taste of heaven, and ascending is what Miyeon does as she gets a sample of her own flavor. She feels the woman’s body up all over, hungry for contact, swiping and gripping and tugging now on her soft thighs, now on her bouncy cheeks, now on her perky tits. I need this real fucking fast, she thinks as she feels dampness between her legs, so she kneels to pull the dress of the other her up to her waist, and what she finds is no underwear (it would have been worrying to know that her perfect double does wear it, to be fair) and a gargantuan semi-erect penis. An absolute utopia, truly, for Miyeon to be in front of the two things she loves the most, fused together: herself and dick. No questions asked then, - and honestly, who’s ever questioned anything in their own dreams, even when it’s sucking yourself off - she wraps her lips around the mushroom head and starts bobbing like it’s her favorite hobby, and it is. It’s like she’s practiced her entire life for the moment she gets to taste the cock she never knew she wanted, and that cock thrusts hard back into her moaning throat because only one can know what she always wanted. And as Miyeon loses herself, - in the music, the moment - that’s where it stops, and her body is turned around and put on all fours, her round ass in the air. She feels her slick being spread around and onto her puckered hole, and as the woman’s tip pushes into her back entrance. One thrust in, and then out. Two, a little further. The third time, the huge girth leaves her hole gaping. Four, five, six, and when she loses count (quite soon, and not because of her poor math abilities), that’s when she breaks. That’s when her moans turn into screams, when her hand automatically goes to her clit and starts rubbing, the pleasure from her own fingers causing her muscles to relax even more and her double’s length to reach even deeper into her. The sound of hips bumping into cheeks and of her own feral wails is all she hears before she feels herself cumming and concurrently several spurts of cum fill her ass.

When Miyeon wakes up she has another quote for her book in mind, one to be remembered for generations to come, surely, and just as surely not a stolen one: the opportunity to meet face to face with your greatest enemy comes once in a lifetime - and the enemy will certainly not miss her chance to blow.

-

footnotes.

getting repetitive. contritely, leaf.

[beacarrot]

Yes, I think I'm doing it again. One day without you turned into a week, and soon it will become a month, but I refuse to let it stretch to a year, ten years… This text is another open letter to share my experience, especially the grief of losing Liam Payne.

I've been a One Direction fan since I was 14. I discovered the band because of Liam, who, back in his “fetus era,” looked like an Australian actor I had a crush on. One day, while browsing the internet, I came across the name “One Direction.” Honestly, I didn’t feel anything phenomenal in that moment; I had no idea how much that name would change my life and my youth as a whole. I didn’t imagine the hours of research, the nearly one hundred songs memorized, the posters, the fan theories I still hope are true, the Pinterest boards full of images, the photo edits of myself with the boys just to get a taste of what it might be like to be near those five special guys. Fanfiction, imagines… the list goes on.

In the beginning, I even mocked their songs, calling them cliché. A few months later, I knew all the lyrics AND the dance from “Best Song Ever" video clip. Life has a way of transforming our paths when we least expect it, when we’re lost enough for any path to seem fine. But life is generous and shows us the "right direction."

The truth is, it was October 16, 2024. I was coming home from school, crying, and, strangely enough, I had no idea that Liam had passed. I’d been introspective in recent days, reflecting on my last months at school and my amazing friends in class. I’d been listening to One Direction more than usual, and that very day I’d listened to “Stand Up”! I got home and was getting ready to go out again; it was almost 7 p.m.

I remember precisely: my mom looked at me with that expression she used to soften bad news, but it didn’t hide her own anxiety. She said, “I want you to hear this from me, but it’s not someone in the family.” I widened my eyes, jeans halfway on. I felt calm; if it wasn’t family, it wouldn’t hurt that much. But then she said it was something about the band and that one of them had fallen from a hotel balcony and was in bad shape.

My heart skipped one, two, maybe five beats. I don’t remember my tone of voice, but I know it was loud, trying to make my mom remember who it was. When she said “Liam,” I still thought, “Well, he just got hurt, but he’s alive, right?”

“Is he okay?” I asked, near panic. Truly, I wasn’t considering the possibility that he could have passed. But my mom’s words echoed: “No… unfortunately, he’s living with God know.”

My world stopped. I wasn’t even fully dressed, and I started shouting Liam’s name over and over, as if trying to confirm the reality, as if pleading for an answer from the heavens. I looked at the photo beside my bed, which I’ll include in this post, and messaged my friends who were also fans. I cried uncontrollably. I smoked so much in those days that I literally got sick, with a sore throat. Only my mom, my friends from youth group, and school saw my true state. Edu, thank you for putting up with my grotesque sobs on your shoulder. I adore you, friend!

The first night was a nightmare, a heavy and negative energy settled in, but I was clinging to the hope that with sunrise, something might change. But it didn’t. The sun rose, and I relived everything in my head, going over the story, just wishing it was truly a nightmare. I think no one has the right to talk about someone else’s pain. Grief is an individual experience, full of complicated nuances.

I’ve been alternating between suffering, crying to the point of dehydration, listening to the songs while every line hurts. There’s the denial phase, when it feels like it didn’t happen; that Liam is out there somewhere, and we’re still in 2012. Then, the reality drops like a piano falling. And there’s anger: “Is this real? He was so young!” And finally, moments of acceptance, when I smile at the memories and look at the photos, though I’m not completely there yet. Grief isn’t a straight line; you repeat and get lost in these stages, and no one should blame themselves for that.

People have lost the capacity for empathy and humanity. It doesn’t matter if Liam didn’t know me; I knew him. Not personally, of course—he had layers, and that’s one reason we couldn’t imagine how he was self-destructing. But he was a singer with an amazing stage presence, always sweet and attentive with the fans, a real warrior in his personal life, and he certainly made his share of mistakes. He lost his way on the crazy road of life, fame, money, media, relationships, addiction; it drained the hope from that 16-year-old boy who didn’t give up on "The X Factor". Liam is a legend.

There are days I can laugh, listening to the songs and remembering their silly dances, like when I watched “This Is Us” two days after his death. I thought I’d cry, but those boys never make me cry; they only make me smile. What makes me cry are the circumstances surrounding 1D. On other nights, I cry knowing there was nothing I could do. The closest I ever got to him was in a dream once, where the boys were having a party at my house. Liam was sitting in the corner of my room, the same spot where I was when I found out he’d passed. I walked over, asked him about Louis and Zayn, and hugged him. It was a sweet, protective hug. That’s my comfort: imagining his face painted in the beautiful blue sky, knowing he was lost and needed rest. I’ll continue with my contradictory life, and when things get hard and tough here on Earth, I’ll smile because he'll be far away and safe, no longer needing to deal with it all.

I’m still hesitant about watching his funeral online. Since finding out, I’ve stepped back from social media. It cleanses my soul to know I didn’t contribute to the hate, negative energy, dirty jokes, or nasty comments thrown his way, in real life or online. I learned from Liam; I let myself be touched by his essence, loving him completely, and I learned to see the world through the lens of songs and art. Words won’t be enough, Liam. This is not a defective goodbye. I still need you, and even if I can’t see you with my eyes, you’ll live forever.

I can't post something that is not just about it, but I will just continue posting some things because they were already ready before I knew about his death.

Gratitude and strength to all!

I don't like to put black pictures blank in these moments because I don't think it's right black and white because Liam brought and still bring so much color to us.

We love you Liam, our eternal red.❤️

[infiniteeight8]

Steter - domestic chores, like shopping. Would be so much easier if (fill in the blank).

Whoo hoo, a Steter prompt! As much as I love my IronStrange boys, I offer both these pairings for a reason. 😀

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Chores, Stiles reflects, not for the first time, would be so much easier if Peter wasn’t the pickiest man alive. Laundry must be kept in this hamper, not any other bin and certainly not on the floor. Cleaning must be done on this schedule and no later, although earlier was acceptable. These were the only acceptable cleaning products, on pain of being made to scrub the entire apartment top to bottom again. Thank God the bills are all automated and, honestly, mostly coming out of Peter’s account anyway. 

Draping himself over the shopping cart, Stiles groans loudly. “Dude, it’s peanut butter. You don’t have to read the label of every jar on the shelf, just pick one!”

“Don’t call me dude,” Peter says automatically, attention still on the label he was reading. It was labeled all natural and cost more than any of the other brands, but apparently that wasn’t good enough.

“Seriously, you basically never eat peanut butter, it’s for me, why is this a thing?”

“If you had a nose as sensitive as mine, you’d be picky, too,” Peter snaps. He puts the peanut butter back on the shelf and starts checking the next jar.

Stiles frowns. “Derek had the same kind of nose and he wasn’t like this.”

“Derek was punishing himself,” Peter says. “He had access to the entire Hale fortune and he still lived in the ruins of his childhood home and then an abandoned subway station for nearly two years. Peanut butter that tastes like preservatives and smells like plastic wouldn’t have registered.”

“Huh.” Suddenly the very specific cleaning instructions make a lot more sense. “Then how come Scott never seemed bothered by it?”

Peter sets the latest jar of peanut butter in the cart and leads the way to the next item on their list. “Scott was a teenage boy,” he says dryly. “They basically marinate in their own stink. I doubt he was capable of smelling anything else.”

Stiles opens his mouth to protest and grinds to a halt. He remembers being a teenager. “Okay, fair,” he concedes. “But we’re making a list of all the brands you like for next time. I’m not doing this again.”

[bambeptin]

OK... SO... BODYSWAP THOUGHTS™... that may or may not be coherent

both of them instantly do not enjoy being in each other's bodies. other than the logistical nightmare of what the hell is happening, Rex and White Knight are very physically different! there's the adjustment period where WK suddenly is much smaller and Rex is suddenly much larger. Rex is more built than most teens but like. WK is a slab of a man. bouts of vertigo are common.

that's on top of being an EVO vs. not being an EVO. I've briefly touched upon it in the fic itself but Rex has been in constant communication with nanites and technology for his entire life (that he remembers) and that's 100% normal to him. he knows "people can't communicate with technology" but he doesn't really understand that, you know. suddenly he's in a human body, everything's quiet, and that specific human is likely the most isolated human in the world.

UH. the rest under a readmore.

(White does send his rubber ball through the magnet into his office which Rex initially thinks is a rude sarcastic gesture but he thinks WK might actually be trying to make his own office more? livable??? but then Rex is like oh! he's in a prison as well. just like my room was. on another note White does keep his exosuits in a room attached to the office but that's behind a lock and he refuses to let Rex use them bc it's a major security breach. + the Consortium would know something is up + WK doesn't want to smuggle him out. honestly it wouldn't be too difficult to but it's not like WK ever had a reason to look into how to escape, other than to wrangle Rex)

Rex is going to get stir-crazy in there. he's got nothing to do. there IS nothing to do in there. ends up reading a bunch of the books White has stashed away in there but tbh there aren't many books. at least they somehow have a similar taste in books. ends up logged back into the system somehow if only to requisition more reading material! and anything else entertaining that can survive the magnet! and another blanket! and like, a chair maybe.

he's lucky that 80% of the time I hc that WK has a room attached to the office and I didn't hit upon the 20% of the time I feel like he doesn't and he sleeps on a mattress right next to the desk when writing this fic

and you know... while he's there in Providence with WK's credentials and looks and boss power... may as well snoop around... maybe even try to make things better...

body language-wise Rex is much more open and cheery (sometimes forcing a smile), but also is more unsure of himself at certain points. he wouldn't be able to nuke a city block basically, even when he had to. when Six sees White's body on the screen, smiling and joking around, suddenly he sees pre-bleaching WK.

and NO. he is too stubborn to do things like "TALK TO PEOPLE". Rex in his body creeps him out anyways. he's all... happy. he is not taking this time to reflect on what that means for Rex's life, much less his own. for now at least.

White is in a sensory nightmare where his panic is also telling his nanites to help him and that freaks him out even more. before bleaching he's always been much more social and tbh way more like Rex but now? he's used to being alone. he's fine with being alone, even, he tells himself. in Rex's body, he flinches from human contact, he's nauseous from nanite communications, he can't make any of his builds bc his mental state is a mess, he's overworking himself, and he's losing control. he can barely cure anything since he can feel the nanites being extracted.

Rex communicates with nanites but WK tries to control them.

he COULD likely build exact copies of Rex's builds if Rex jotted down his mental blueprints, or if WK studies his builds through old footage hard enough to get a grasp on how they work. turns out White has a knack for engineering (his exosuit, his mechsuit, King's Road, etc). HOWEVER this is a lil spoiler for the fic 🤫 but since he made his own mech and he knows it like the back of his hand it's actually easier for him to make parts of his mech as builds instead. I'll probably draw this sometime. Rex with WK's mech arm!!! cool!!!

for his body language he's VERY closed-off. and trying to be intimidating in a body very different than what he's used to combined with his general scowly-ness makes him sort of read like... an extremely moody and rebellious teenager to people not in the know. puts up with some of the soldiers treating him like garbage too.

(Rex expects White to be living it up out there, indulging being able to be outside of the office again...! instead he's still isolating himself. Knight's like there's no point. I'm going to be back in the office. I don't want to get used to it.)

OKAY I ALMOST FORGOT TO PUT IN: White is very aware that Rex's body can get amnesia again and he will forget everything about himself. in that case he doesn't want Rex to be trapped in the office so he's ready to have his amnesiac self swapped anyways.

Rex is very aware of that too and is like, it would be unethical to stick a complete amnesiac into WK's position. he's ready to take the hit!!! they butt heads over this.

White Knight being freaked out all the time is not helping re: his nanites going into overdrive. gotta calm down, WK!!!

I do have a scene in mind for Knight at Noah's house (ordered by Rex)(so WK can go outside) and it is so awkward. Noah going on Reddit to ask what the fuck to do if your ex-boss for a shady job that you got fired from but you still kinda hang out with your ex-coworkers is like. at your house scowling while watching cartoons. (but he's still watching???)(intently???????)

might have more thoughts about this later. this is definitely only scratching the surface!!!

[senka-mesecine]

Would you be comfortable writing nsfw headcanons for bunny from platoon? Thank you so much!

NSFW Headcanons; Bunny. NSFW Headcanons for Robert Barnes here.

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― Bunny fucks...like a rabid bunny, fully living up to his nickname. Yeah, jokes aside, I think he likes it fast, I think he likes it rough, I think he likes it often (very often), I think he relishes quickies multiple times a day and I think his insatiable tastes verge in that direction precisely because he's impatient and incredibly impulsive, wanting to get right down to it, often times with little to no foreplay or extravaganzas included at all. Not that he has anything against the endeavor or the idea of it per se (in fact, he enjoys it...in theory far more so than in practice) he's usually just too keyed up and horny to actually invest time into preparing you or even himself. He just wants to be inside of you already. Is that quite so bad?

― That being said, he's young and brimming to the teeth in bravado and he might be more talk than he is genuine action, meaning that he has a habit of talking about fucking in sordid detail, namely, what he'd do, what he has done before, what he plans on figuratively doing if he got some pussy, but when it comes to actually doing it for real and not just speculating on it, his skillset doesn't reflect his tall tales. His eagerness does, though. He's just as turned on as he seems to be. Which is, scarily so. The libido this dude has could knock out an animal and he goes round after round and you've no clue where he gets the energy or willpower to have such an appetite.

― Speaking of appetites, he has all the kinks. Yes, you've heard that right. It is pointless to just single out any as his particular favorites, because he'd do anything to you (and the opposite is fairly true too), the weirder the better, ranging from bondage, degradation, dirty talk, humiliation, painplay, knifeplay, consensual non-consent, hitting it from the front, hitting it from the back, smoking a cigarette from in-between your toes, or just plain old penetrative sex and it is simply for the reason that he sees all of this as 'getting pussy' and classifying it as anything else is just...well...not necessary in his eyes. He got laid, right? He's seen some tits and ass from you? Okay, so he's won. Labelling things as anything but is missing the point.

― He calls you his Bunny. Probably does it so often he doesn't call you anything else and any outside observer pretty much has no idea what your actual name even is. It is as meta as it sounds, but it graduates from something he refers to you as something during sex to just an overall nickname and endearment. Possibly gets the post-coital idea of tattooing you too with, you guessed it, a rabbit tattoo so you could match. He enjoys something about the assonance of him being called Bunny, having a girl he calls his Bunny and both of them being embellished with bunny tattoos. In fact, he insists on inking you himself while you're both laying in bed naked. Is it a form of branding and claiming? Maybe. Is this gesture as serious as matrimony to him? Yeah, maybe.

― Likes getting blowjobs. Likes fucking your ass. And likes cumming on your face. Loves your tits too. In general, Bunny enjoys everything a boy who just hit puberty and discovered the basis of sexuality from a stolen porno magazine thinks he would like, except, Bunny's dyed-in-the-bone about it. If he could have an imaginary centerfold nude of you he could hang in his locker or above his bunk it would literally make him the happiest man in the world because you are his fantasy seeing as how, when Bunny's in love, he becomes, as the kids nowadays say, the biggest simp alive. No image of Raquel Welch or Ann Margaret could come close as opposed to everything you represent as a sexual ideal to him. You're his very own Playboy Bunny.

― He's the worst at dirty talk, but my god, does he try. He puts his all into it. From 'Your pussy likes that, huh?' to gems like 'Your pussy's as wet as a waterfall, never seen it squish like that.' and all the way down to 'You're taking it good for me, Bunny' one could say there's something occasionally corny and try-hard about the things he tends to say mid-sex, but Bunny tends to deliver it with so much bravado, horniness and conviction he absolutely sells it because he absolutely means it and in fact, he doesn't let you forget how much he means it because he rambles pretty much non-stop, before, during and after the act. It can be said he's so over the moon being with you he has to vocalize it.

― When he's not with you he masturbates whenever he can to the thought of you because he just has an excess of pent up sexual desire that either gets channeled into you or into less admirable endeavors, like his violence out in the field or his generally high-strung attitude, but in either regard, he's turned on and he's a pervert, in fact, it is safe to say that while other boys in the platoon might have a picture of their sweetheart, a locket, some sort of wholesome token from home, Bunny's most likely to have a pair of underwear that belonged to you...that you either gave him of your own volition or that he simply, you know, took. Not entirely guaranteed they're going to be clean either. In fact, it's preferable they aren't so there's something to sniff. And something he can rub his cock against.

― He's thought about you interwoven with violence and murder, yes, just the murderousness of his actions mingling with his lust for you until, occasionally, it becomes hard to differentiate the two. Thinking about you when he bashes someone's brains in, wondering what it would be like to smear their blood over your face, almost as homage, pondering scaring you, if only a little, when he points his firearm towards as a 'Gotcha!' moment only to laugh and say he's only Joking, bunny, bullying you in almost dangerously juvenile fashion, if only a little. His reveries can and do get very dark and messed up seeing as how the two overarching things running two his brain are usually the in's and out's of military life and you, so it's only a given the two mix and become one, taking on the form of a sexual paraphilia.

― Ultimately, if you write him letters, the happenings of the outside world mean little to him and he doesn't give too many damns about it all except what's up with you, so there's no point recounting him with anything that isn't you, because in his own words, he likes Vietnam because he doesn't have to worry about anything but dying and even that, he won't know it's happening, so if he gets your correspondence, he wants it to be centered solely around you and complete and utter smut. Yeah, those letters better be almost wholly pornographic in nature. Descriptions of your underwear, your pussy, your fingers in them, what you'd do together if you weren't apart, what you will do together the moment he's deployed on R&R and so forth. He cares about two things; well, three. The war, you and sex with you and the letters better be on either of those three subjects. Preferably focused on the latter two so he can use the words as wanking material. Genuinely speaking, you're about the only reason why he'd contemplate going home in the first place.

[froggiewrites]

Meet Froggie's OCs: Rosamund

I've put together a little info sheet on my first OP OC for those of you who are curious about her 😊 I'm going to make another one for my Heart Pirate girlie but I wanna finish designing her helmet/outfit before I do. If anyone wants to know anything about Rose not answered here, feel free to ask! I love talking about my guys.

Pre Timeskip vs Post Timeskip Design

Name: Rosamund Age: 18 (Pre-Timeskip) / 20 (Post-Timeskip) Crew: Strawhat Pirates Role: Record/Log Keeper Height: 5’0 / 153cm

Joining the Crew: Rosamund first encountered the Strawhats when their dinky little rowboat washed up on the shore of her island shortly before she was meant to take her vows to become a nun. She was told not to help the suspicious individuals, but she saw they were starving and lost and she couldn’t help but feed them and bring them into her home. Before meeting Luffy, she had never thought about her life as her own to live, but when he describes his dream to become King of the Pirates she starts to wonder what freedom would taste like for the first time. She couldn’t help but jump on the opportunity when Luffy asked her if she wanted to come join his crew.

Love Interests: Sanji and Zoro (though she and Zoro both haven’t realized he’s included in this)

Outfit/Design Notes: Pre-TS Rosamund’s outfits are inspired very heavily by fairytale princesses: lots of frills, pastels, and bows. She’s very innocent and naive when she first joins the crew, and her fashion sense reflects this. The outfits are also very large and not form-fitting, as a way for her to hide in plain sight. She tends to wear mostly blue, though any pastel is on the table. 

Post-TS Rosamund’s fashion sense involves a lot more skin tight clothes, fishnets, and jewelry. In the two years she’s separated from her friends, she’s caught up in helping overthrow a tyrannical government, and her fashion is largely inspired by the rebels she teams up with, who dress a bit more punk (darker colors, leather jackets, ripped clothing). She doesn’t dress fully within the style, more of an imitation of it, because it is, just like her previous clothing choices, just her trying to imitate someone else without fully understanding them instead of finding her own distinct style. She wears a pastel blue lipstick, an indication she hasn’t fully let go of how she used to be, no matter how much she insists she has. She’s also picked up smoking (to try to feel connected to someone in particular, though she’d never admit that), so she can often be found fiddling with an old silver lighter, which she tries to match her jewelry to.

Powers/Fighting Style: She starts with no devil fruit powers, no haki, or really any self defense skills at all. She learns what she can by observing her friends and their enemies, carefully detailing in her records the way they all fight, and finding what she can imitate. Over the timeskip, she’s taught armament haki and observation haki, though I think armament doesn’t come as naturally to her so she relies heavily on predicting opponents moves and careful planning more than anything else.