#yes both of those things have just happened

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’  simple acts of love from skz

—All the times stray kids said I love you in the little things.

words・6.8k pairings・stray kids x reader genres・fluff, a little crack, established relationships warnings・lots and lots of kisses!! happy tears, drunken re-confessions, silliness, playful living room dancing, minhos a shy baby, he's also a little shit in changbins, erotic painting in hyunjins, hans is a little bit more emotional, silly little proposals, my terrible attempt at writing lyrics, jeongin stalks your goodreads profile and buys your entire TBR list like I don't have at least a thousand tbr books...some of these are silly some of these are sickeningly sweet,

a/n・I wrote these drabbles based on these headcanons, but I did change Minho's because I believed it fit him better!! Also, this has been rotting in my drafts for MONTHS im not super proud of them, but I hope you like them anyways.

ᡣ𐭩 chan + sneaking into your bathroom to trace hearts onto the bathroom mirror.

"This is a suicide mission!" his lungs scream as he slips into your inferno of a bathroom, a heavy cloak of steam hugging him instantly. His respiratory system begs for release, a moist cough rolling up his throat; but like the magnificent boyfriend he is, he shoves those rebellious bodily functions right back down his windpipe.

Was his silly little plan worth the ability to breathe? Yes. Did he also wonder how you even could? Also yes.

The mirror fogs like the surface of an ancient lake, obstructing the image of his mischievous grin. He brings a pointer finger to the glass, drawing all his ardor in the mist—though it only comes out as lopsided hearts.

Your voice floats out from behind the curtain, absentmindedly humming to a silent tune. Shadows of your hands move through your hair, your body refracted onto the thin sheet.

You are so beautiful...

Cupid smacks his jaw shut.

He manages to slip out right as the water sputters off, sliding into the living room by his socks. He face-plants onto the couch, scrambling to sit upright. The loud smack of your towel echoes in his ears as his wide eyes dart to the table, frantically searching for something to occupy his attention. He snatches the first thing he sees, which just happens to be a... candle?

Whatever, no time!

Chan is intently studying the ocean-blue Bath & Body Works label, when you come pattering out, damp hair dribbling water behind you. The moment you step into his line of sight, his heart plummets—that stupid aromatherapy candle nearly tumbling with it.

There you were, in all your drenched glory, your towel wrapped snug against your chest, tears rolling freely down your cheeks. Did you hear that?! Tears!! You were crying?! Why were you crying?!?!

Chan must have embodied the spirit of a kangaroo, because he’s never jumped up faster in his life.

"Why are you crying? You're supposed to be happy!" he yelps, yanking your body into his arms, water seeping into the thin fabric of his tee shirt. His brain becomes the equivalent of the world’s most fucked-up ambrosia when you begin laughing, the curve of your smile pressed into his chest. He blinks—he doesn't know whether to kiss you or call a priest. Maybe he should do both?

Suddenly you pull away, cocooning his cheeks with pruney hands, your bottom lip wobbling as you sob, "I'm so in love with you."

Well, good job—now he's sobbing too.

"I'm in love with you too, baby."

You had drawn hearts on the walls of his soul in the same way he had drawn them in the steam of your mirror. The only difference is, yours would never fade away.

ᡣ𐭩 minho + randomly sending you songs that remind him of you.

Minho wasn't the type to throw his arms around you, pressing kisses to your face with all his overflowing ardor. Instead, in the minuscule overlaps of time between talking on the phone and constructing a perfect dance routine, he'll find himself sitting dazed upon the lounge room couch, mindlessly nodding to a catchy tune. He had left his Spotify on smart shuffle, finding comfort in the idea of a song found without searching, as if it were fate's gentle finger dusting the path to new adventures. He flutters his eyelids shut, ripples of sound washing over his skin.

And I've heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime

And I'm pretty sure that you are that love of mine

'Cause I'm in a field of dandelions

Wishing on everyone that you'd be mine, mine

In a rash flood of emotions, he sends you the song just before Chan steps into view, announcing his dire need to finish choreographing the final steps of their newest single. Begrudgingly, he slips his phone into his back pocket, his earbuds following suit. The only thing that keeps him sane throughout the day is the anticipation that he will go home and see you, and that makes it all worth it.

ᡣ𐭩

May I have this dance?" you declare, extending your arm with feigned seriousness, though the playful smile tugging at your lips betrays you instantly.

“What?” Minho chuckles through furrowed brows, observing the unusual surroundings; candles flicker dim lighting on the walls, throwing shadows on the rose petals you had scattered around your living room, forming an intriguing resemblance to a romantic dance floor. He sets the bags of groceries on the ground. Lee Know is so beyond confused, yet also pleasantly surprised, especially when you waltz over to him, tight red dress hugging all your gorgeous curves.

“You still haven't answered my question,” you sing, playfully twirling into his arms. Your hands find their way to the nape of his neck, tracing mindless circles in his hair. A shiver rolls up his spine as you tilt your face forward, lips so close; his heart flutters like a fragile leaf tumbling down from an autumn tree. He blinks before exhaling—

“Of course, I'll dance with you.”

A delighted squeal erupts from your lips, and you jump away from his arms, heading straight over to your phone to play the song he sent you prior. A warm blush floods his cheeks, painting them a bashful red.

“Did you like it?” His eyes fall away from yours.

“Did I like it?? Of course I liked it!” you squeal, gaping at him like he was the dumbest person on the planet. World War Three rages inside his chest as he fights not to fold like a lawn chair, flopping on the floor like a flustered starfish. Though when your hands rub their way up from his chest to his shoulders, he's surprised he's even upright. Your hips sway to the melody, a warm smile melting away all his defenses; but when you guide his awkward hands to the dip in your hips, it’s game over. He stuffs his face into your neck, littering the sensitive skin with kisses, his brain screaming: distract the enemy!! distract the enemy!!

“Do you know how much I love you?” he mumbles with striking genuineness. Instead of answering his question, you simply twirl yourself around his finger, placing his hand to wrap around the small of your back. He dips you down right as the music swells. It was magical, really—the candlelight twinkling in your peripheral, spills of starlight dancing off the ocean's surface. It was all so perfect—that was until your shoe caught on one of the rose petals, the floor turning slick under your feet. You send yourself tumbling straight to the ground. Minho squeals, grasping at thin air, but then he too also slips, frantically shooting his wrists out so he doesn't crush you.

The music cuts through the deafening silence as petals weave their way into your hair. You roll your lips into your teeth, glancing over to an eerily still Minho, staring at the ceiling like a spooked tabby. As if he could feel your eyes, his gaze finds yours, and only then does he burst out into roaring laughter, which prompts you to also join the fun.

“Are you sure you're the main dancer?” you tease through breathy giggles. He gasps, smacking a dramatic hand over his chest.

“I’ll have you know you fell first.”

And I've heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime

And I'm pretty sure that you are that love of mine

'Cause I'm in a field of dandelions

Wishing on everyone that you'd be mine, mine

In that moment, as the light hits you just right, he swears he finds the universe in your eyes. Your skin is showered in candlelight, head tilted back—joy flickers on your tongue as honey drips from your teeth. His heart pounds against his ribs, flowers sprouting in his lungs. To the world, he was an aloof grump with smooth moves and an impressive affinity for cats; but to you, with you, he was so much more.

Mid-snort, he captures your cheek, pressing his lips to yours. In a single gesture, he is pouring all the words he wished to say—

though to you, it tasted a little bit like—

If he had to blow a wish on every dandelion in the universe just to keep you, he would; and only through your lips would he find the power to keep breathing.

ᡣ𐭩 changbin + gushing about you while drunk

The balmy patio is sticky with soju-infused groans, most of the boys slumped in their respective seats, throwing back exasperated swigs of their drinks as they desperately try to drown out Changbin’s relentless rambles.

The two semicircle outdoor couches form a full circle around an unlit bonfire pit. On one of the couches sits a completely unfazed Felix, taking small sips of his soju between chuckles; an extremely annoyed Seungmin, glaring daggers at Changbin; and I.N, who doesn’t seem to be doing much of anything except, well, sleeping—body slumped against the armrest. Hyunjin is sandwiched between Chan and Changbin on the other couch: Chan, who wishes he never even brought up the idea to buy beer in the first place, and Changbin, who is currently slumped over a very irked Hyunjin’s lap. Han is somewhere in the house, probably giggling at his own swirling reflection.

Hyunjin digs his fingers into the roots of his locks, fighting every urge not to yank the tufts straight out.

“N-no, but Jinnie, you don’t u-understand—she’s so pretty,” Changbin slurs, stuffing his face into his friend’s hoodie, which makes Hyunjin frown and swat him away.

“That’s it! I’m calling Y/N!” Seungmin announces, jumping up from his seat. Chan grabs his sleeve, yanking him straight back down, much to Seungmin’s dismay. he sinks into the polyester in a puddle of disgruntled grumbles.

"Or we could record him," Minho calls out from the shadows of the back entryway, only ever appearing when he needed more beer or more entertainment. And right now, it was dinner and a show. Minho simply shrugs as if his evil plan wouldn’t ruin his best friend's bad-boy reputation. "Send it to Y/N later," he mumbles to himself, the devil tilting his cheek up. Nobody seems to hear him, so he slyly pulls his phone from his pocket and presses record.

"No, no, no! You can't call Y/N. She’ll know I love her!" Changbin gasps in horror, stumbling to grab the phantom phone that apparently appears on Hyunjin’s lap with the way he paws at his jeans. Hyunjin takes a nice, long swig of his soju.

"You know you and Y/N have been together for over four years, right?" Felix chuckles, finding the whole ordeal pure comedic relief.

"No, you don’t understand. She’ll know I love her... lover," Changbin’s words slur into an incoherent shake of his head. Minho's evil cackles float out from the concealment of the doorway, and Chan perks up.

"Minho, what are you doing?!" Minho slams his phone against his thigh. What the hell?? Does Chan have Spidey senses or something??

"Nothing!" he yelps, sounding super convincing. Chan narrows his eyes toward the darkness where Minho is supposedly lurking, sporting an eerily perfect rendition of a frustrated father. That is, until Changbin begins a very off-tune version of “The Itsy Bitsy Spider,” rolling over on Hyunjin’s lap to tap his fingers up his arm and eventually landing on Hyunjin’s nose with a giggle. When Hyunjin almost bites his finger off, Chan finally diverts his attention. Minho thanks God for the shadows—how else would he have gotten away with recording all of that?

“I’m about two seconds away from bringing you back to Y/N,” Hyunjin sighs, his lips pressed into a tight line as he glares at the man whose eyes just burst with light at the thought of seeing you. Chan smacks Hyunjin on the back sympathetically, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Why me, Lord? Why me?" Chan sings his woes under his breath but just loud enough for the camera to pick up—and for Minho to giggle.

"Y/N, I miss Y/N. Can I go home to Y/N, please?" Changbin hiccups, slumping his head onto Hyunjin’s shoulder. Hyunjin’s eye twitches. "I wanna tell the pretty girl I love her."

Felix emerges from his silence with a fit of laughter, nearly spilling his beer all over the floor. "Weren't you just saying you didn’t want to tell her you loved her?"

Changbin whips his gaze forward, his eyes hardening into a very foggy glare. "Well, now I want to tell the pretty girl I love her," he states matter-of-factly, his eyes fluttering a bit, betraying just how drunk he is.

Felix’s amusement is transparent as he raises his beer in Changbin’s direction. "Somebody needs to bring him to Y/N and let him re-confess his undying love for her."

Seungmin has never jumped up so fast in his life; he’s mid-volunteer when Chan grabs the cuff of his sleeve again and yanks him right back on his ass. Seungmin collapses onto the couch, ready to spit a disrespectful insult at his elder, but he folds like a lawn chair when Chan shoots him that look.

"Seungmin, you are far too drunk to take him home, while I," he looks to the sky with regret, "am very regretfully sober." Chan sounds like he’s going through the five stages of grief in one sentence.

"Okay, buddy, I’m taking you home," Chan grunts, clapping the drunken boy on the back. Changbin beams like he just heard there was a cure for cancer.

"Hell yeah!" He jumps up, only to stumble slightly, the patio swimming in his vision as he catches himself on Hyunjin’s forehead. When he finally, barely stabilizes himself, he throws his hands up. "See y’all bitches later! I—” he dramatically points to his chest in pride, “—am going to see my girl," he declares and marches straight out the door. Chan is mid-goodbye hug turned introspection with Felix, wondering what he’s doing with his life, when he hears a loud shatter in the hallway. Chan falls out of Felix’s arms immediately, his stride turned sprint. 

"Son of a bitch, Changbin, that was my favorite vase!"

ᡣ𐭩

“Go ahead, tell the pretty girl how much you love her,” you tease, playfully mimicking kissy faces while simultaneously poking Changbin’s crumpled form, his boiling cheeks sandwiched between his knees.

Why did Minho have to send you that video? But most of all, why did he have to send it while Changbin was still hungover? All this humiliation can’t be good for his headache.

Changbin groans, falling back on the bed to pull a pillow over his scorching face. The fact that the whole mattress hasn’t burst into flames is truly beyond him. Giggles pour from your lips, even as they settle atop his stomach, leaving kisses all the way up his torso. You can hear his flustered pants from down here.

“Okay, that’s enough bullying for one day,” you say, straddling his waist to snake your arms around his waist, pressing your chests flush together. Your teeth graze his shoulder, softly biting the flesh. “Come on, baby, take the pillow off your face.” You press your smile against his shirt before resting your chin on his chest.

He peeks out from under the pillow, tugging it down just enough to reveal his eyes, still reluctant to fully reveal himself. You bat your lashes at him, pouting ever so slightly. He folds—like a damn lawn chair, at this point, he’s practically collapsing in on himself with how much he’s folded. His face melts into a grin as he finally pulls the pillow down.

He so regrets that.

Your face lights up with laughter as you take in his beet-red cheeks, your eyes disappearing into crinkled slits. “I’m sorry, I just... I just can’t,” you cackle, doubling over in heaves.

“I hate you,” Changbin shouts, flustered, smacking you square in the side of the head with the pillow. It does nothing to quell your amusement; in fact, it only makes it worse.

“That’s not what you said last night,” you snort, falling off him as you kick your feet against the sheets.

Despite his urge to tie a millstone around his ankle and jump off the face of the earth, he can’t help but smile, caught in an unusual state of awe. Your mouth is boxy, laughter filling the air like strands of warm honey.

“Apparently, you think about me a lot,” you snicker, still rolling around. his smile only spreads wider.

If only you knew how much he thought of you.

ᡣ𐭩 hyunjin + painting perfectly captured portraits of you

“Hold still for me, baby,” Hyunjin whispers, his voice low and intimate, as he lightly drags his brush down the length of your arm, adding the final touches to your portrait. His gaze traces your bare body, memorizing every inch until even the freckle on the upper left side of your waist is drawn onto the inside of his eyelids. The valley of your breasts trembles with each labored breath, your muscles tightening against the couch where you lay.

“I’m really trying, Jinnie, but it hurts,” you whine, fighting to keep your head steady. Your boyfriend lets out a breathy laugh, savoring one final glance at your naked form. With careful precision, he drags the sharpest part of his brush down your thigh, finishing the entire painting with his favorite peice of you.

“Done,” Hyunjin murmurs, settling back into his chair with a satisfied smile, admiring the art he’s just created. Usually when he painted, there was always something he hated about his work—whether it's the proportions or the colors were slightly out of harmony—it was never good enough. but when he paints you, there's never an issue; for he could capture you with children's finger paints, and you'd still find a way to look utterly breathtaking.

“Let me see,” you squeal, jumping up from the uncomfortable spot you’d claimed on his couch. A faint blush appears on his face as he turns the easel around, unraveling his heart before you. And oh, when he does—you collapse into his arms, all your strength diffused into a shuddering gasp. He had dipped his brush into your soul, and with every meticulous stroke, he gathered the very essence of your heart. It was almost unreal how perfect he made you appear to be—your moles speckled across your skin in gold, dusted like stars; your stretch marks adorned in silver, shining like slips of light.

How are you not sobbing right now??

“Is it okay?” he asks, bashfully wrapping his arms around your naked waist, completely unfazed by your current state of undress.

“Hyunjin, this is more than okay,” you sniffle, voice crackling with emotion. You turn to meet his gaze, only for his palms cradle your cheeks with a touch so tender, it's barely there. One second, you’re breathing; the next, you’re transcending, existing only between his lips.

By the time you come up for air, the world around you has changed. He’s on top of you now, his hands resting on either side of your head, thoughts long forgotten. He moves closer, allowing whisps of his hair to tickle the sensitive flesh of your neck; for his lips to settle upong the delicate curve of your collarbone. He doesn’t stop—he doesn’t stop until the sun kisses your skin, until the sky is filled with the very stars he painted upon your skin.

Only in love and art are you eternal and in hyunjin, with hyunjin, you are both. 

ᡣ𐭩 han + hiding messages into every song he produces

"In every lifetime," a heartfelt promise whispered between shuttering breaths. Han's lips parted, your tongue savoring his astonished gasp. "What did you say?" quickly transformed into "Did you mean it?" when you had tenderly threaded your fingers into his hair, the pad of your thumb settling just under his jaw. Your needy hands had fogged his head, but he never forgot it.

"In every lifetime," you had uttered many moons later, nestled underneath the stretch of midnight sky. The universe had stilled, all of time and space screeching to a deafening halt. You unraveled the scrolls of his soul, and with the eternal vow of "I do," swore forever. So, he, for however long he may live, intends to hold you to that promise.

From: Hannie 🐿 Do not by any means play my new song!!!

From: Hannie 🐿 Im serious!!

From: Hannie 🐿 Promise me Y/N!!!

You giggle at his earnestness, clicking the notification to message him back.

From: My Wife ❤ I won't I promise!

From: My Wife ❤ Scouts honor 🫡

You admired Han's dedication to his craft, but what you admired most was his need to share every single part of it with you.

"You didn't listen to the song, did you?" Han calls out from the foyer, slamming the front door behind him. He urgently throws off his shoes, his heavy footsteps following him all the way up the stairs. Your mirth bubbles up behind a bitten grin, lip firmly tucked between your teeth.

"No!" you shout back, feigning indifference; though when he swings your bedroom door open, you’re overcome with breathy giggles—his hair is tossed around at all angles, puffed cheeks pink and gasping.

Now that was the man you fell in love with.

"Somebody's eager," you tease, chucking your phone somewhere on the bed. His eyes are oddly fearful when you lift yourself up from the comforter, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. His chest heaves, breath labored and shaky; flighty fingers find the knot of his tie, yanking it loose. You reel your head back. Since when does he wear a tie? You flick your gaze down his figure. Since when does he wear suits?? Your confusion only festers as he lets out an anxious chuckle, wringing his hands like wet rags.

"You have no idea." You didn’t know—didn’t know what he was about to risk. His heart was clay in your hands, and with the delicacy of a butterfly's wing, you pressed your fingerprints into his skin. For now, through touch alone, his soul will find you in every lifetime; but first, he must promise you himself in this one, and that appeared to be an impossible feat.

It's now or never, he tells himself.

So, with an arduous breath, he steadies his quivering hands just long enough to slip his phone out of his back pocket. Was it just him, or is it suddenly really hot in here? He swipes to YouTube. Why was it getting so hard to breathe?? He presses play. His heart somersaults its way down to his stomach when the opening melody echoes from the speakers. Your brows lift, lips pursing in your signature concentrated quirk. His mouth forms around a smile, breathing getting marginally easier, but that peace is short-lived as the chorus begins—only then does he feel the symptoms of real fear.

In every lifetime, his warm voice melts from the speaker.

A falling star just shot from space and hit you directly in the chest, rendering you utterly speechless; even as your gaze finds his glassy eyes, you just can’t believe it.

In every lifetime you swore.

It’s just too perfect.

So, for as long as I may live, I wanna be yours.

He’s just too perfect.

In every lifetime I'll dip my knee down.

There’s no way.

And yet he sinks to one knee, slipping a velvet box from the confines of his pocket. Your hands make purchase around your mouth, stifling a wet cry.

In every lifetime I'll ask to be yours.

"Y/N L/N, will you marry me?"

You drop to your knees, tears tracing cordate-shaped rivulets down your cheeks. "Yes, Han, I'll marry you! I'll marry you!"

Your lips swear forever as they land on his, and that promise echoes far into lifetime number twelve.

ᡣ𐭩 felix + giving you gum wrapper hearts

Lee Felix was stupid in love, heavy on the stupid, figuring he was about to start World War Three to get that gum wrapper out of Seungmin’s hand.

“Please,” Felix begs, drawing out the "e" in an obnoxious whine.

Felix has been professing his love for you through gum wrapper hearts for about as long as he’s been chewing gum, so he is going to be damned if he lets one gum wrapper gets away without meeting his fingers first. Seungmin’s eyes harden into an frustrated glare, about two seconds away from punching a pizza-sized hole in his best friend’s face.

“You know, the more that you beg me for this wrapper, the more I don’t want to give it to you,” he deadpans, voice flat with irritation. Felix throws his head back in an ear-splitting groan.

“Whyyy not??”

“Oh my gosh, Seungmin, just give him the damn wrapper,” Chan interjects, exasperated.

“Yeah, listen to Chan. Give Felix the wrapper,” Felix teases, laying his chin on his hand, fluttering his lashes with a shit-eating grin. Seungmin clenches his jaw, crumpling up the foil—much to poor Lixie’s dismay.

“Did you see that, Chan?! Seungmin crumpled my wrapper!” Seungmin squeezes it harder. “Look! Do you see that, Chan?! Seungmin is bullying me!” Chan sighs, digging a knuckle into his eye. He is about five seconds away from sticking both grown toddlers in time out.

“Seungmin, for the sake of my sanity, give Felix the damn gum wrapper.” The fact that he actually had to tell two full-fledged adults that was truly beyond him, yet here he was.

“It’s the principle of it, old man—” As soon as the words leave his lips, Seungmin wants to stuff them right back in. Chan grits his teeth, steam practically whistling from his ears.

Oh, crap.

“You little—” Chan dives for Seungmin, to which he squeals, ducking from his elder’s hand, gearing up to smack him square in the forehead. In the clamber of movements, he ends up dropping the beloved wrapper. Felix lets out a squeal of excitement, lunging for the foil. When the crumpled aluminum sits in his hands, he has never felt so rewarded in his entire life, smiling like he just won a million bucks.

Almost out of muscle memory, he begins smoothing it out, folding up all the right corners. He beams, stuffing the little token into his pocket, fingers itching to give it to you later.

“Thanks, Seungmin,” Felix smirks, taking a proud sip of his drink. Seungmin manages to stick his tongue out while trapped in a headlock.

“You suck,” he wheezes, throwing weak slaps onto Chan's bicep. Felix giggles, his phone buzzing against his jeans. Felix quite literally drops everything to pick it up, his heart singing the same song as your special ringtone.

From: My world 💙 Look, baby, isn’t it so beautiful? I took the pic while I was on my way to work. I actually swerved off the road to take the picture, haha. Just wanted to share it with you. Love you, baby!! [Image.png]

When he clicks the image, his phone is flooded with the most breathtaking view. The sky is stained like melting ice cream, cotton candy colors that burst around your hair, though that isn’t what Felix is looking at—he is looking at you. The moment he looks into your lopsided smile, Cupid shoots him all over again.

From: My star-light 🌟 Wow.

From: My star-light 🌟 No words.

From: My star-light 🌟 I didn’t know my girlfriend could look so stunning.

From: My star-light 🌟 Oh, wait, there was a sunset back there somewhere.

From: My star-light 🌟 Yeah, that was pretty too.

From: My star-light 🌟 Are we still on for tonight?? I miss youuu.

From: My world 💙 Oh my gosh, Lix, you’re making me blush, haha.

Seungmin chokes somewhere in the background. Felix doesn’t notice. Felix is submerged in the silky ocean of rose-colored love.

From: My world 💙 Of course we are!!

From: My world 💙 I miss you too, baby!!

From: My world 💙 Literally can’t wait to see you.

Felix is mid-text when his friends suddenly turn bright red, clambering to untangle themselves from the mess of limbs they got themselves stuck in. Felix doesn’t realize the reason Chan is suddenly fixing his hair or Seungmin is unruffling his shirt is because two of the most stunning women just walked past them. Felix was too focused on making time move faster.

ᡣ𐭩

Felix has never been to space, though he can accurately say that he has tasted the sky.

He sips the stars off your lips, every shared breath an inhale of the galaxy. Felix knows that somewhere, someplace time exists, but not here, not now, not with the blades of grass lacing through his hair; not when he’s pressing your chest flush against his, rolling around on the ground until the night sky is kissing the earth in his vision. Your laughs are buried in his neck when he gets too dizzy to continue, littering kisses on the sensitive flesh there. You pull away for only a moment, brushing a rogue strand of hair off his brow. You smile, dipping to press a soft peck to the tip of his nose.

The two of you had crept into this darkened backyard hours ago; you proposing a date under the stars only to share them between your lips instead. You have been locked in this position for lifetimes, and Felix has no plan to stop.

His palms lift to graze your cheeks before sealing your mouths together again. His soft laugh puffs against the seam of your lips, his smile curving against your own. “God, I am so in love with you.”

He was; he so, so, so was.

He was so in love with you, he had almost forgotten about his gift. Key word: almost.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he gasps, chasing your warmth when he pulls away, sitting up.

“What?” you playfully whine, biting back a grin, settling your hips against his thighs. He chuckles, poking a finger into his pocket, fishing out the gum wrapper heart.

“I know it’s not perfect,” he whispers, cupping something in his palm, “but I hope you still like it.” He rolls his fingers out bashfully, offering you the crinkled silver heart. He bites his lip, a faint blush falling over the apples of his cheeks. The little gift was by no means perfect; it was ripped, wrinkled, and just a little lopsided. Yet you can’t help the fondness that explodes in your chest. Still cradling the heart with care, you throw your arms around his neck, tackling him to the ground. Your chest flush against his, he grunts when you land upon the earth, smacking slobbery kisses all over his face. You don’t stop, not until he is flipping you over, now attacking you with equally wet kisses. Your giggles live in the balmy summer air.

To you, he was the sun; but to him, you were the universe 

ᡣ𐭩 seungmin + buying you a bouquet every time the old ones wilt

October 11th, 2020.

That was the last time your apartment smelled like something other than florals. That was also the first time Seungmin had ever bought you flowers—a simple gift for your one-year anniversary that spiraled into a four-year tradition. You don’t ever talk about it, and he certainly denies it, when you thank him for how the wilting tulips magically evolved into beautiful daylilies. You find it endearing, the faint blush that falls over his cheeks when he tries to convince you that it wasn’t him.

Now that you think about it, your white roses did seem to have a little bit of brown on them yesterday.

Mid-wipe of the bathroom counter, you rush down the stairs, almost sliding into the kitchen in your socks. Without fail, there they were: bright red tulips, replacing the withering roses that had been in the vase earlier. A spreading grin pulls at your lips as you check the stove clock, quickly connecting the dots.

You had been cleaning the bathroom most of the evening, your earbuds blocking the world out. He had probably heard you humming from upstairs, choosing the perfect time to sneak in through the door. You squeal, sprinting up the stairs to throw open your bedroom door. You expect to find him lounging on the bed, but instead, you find him below it, cradling a square object in his hands. His head whips around, panic falling over his features. He slams the lid shut before fumbling to shove it right back under the bed, much to your dismay.

“Hey, what?” You yelp, diving for the box. Seungmin blocks you, accidentally knocking it out of his hands, unfurling its contents all over the floor.

It looks like a garden just threw up in your bedroom.

Hundreds, thousands of differently shaped petals are scattered on your floor, tufts of colorful memories spread out like a silky scroll. First, you freeze. Then, you gasp; your muscles thawing like a flower unfurling in the snow. It hits you slowly, blossoming in your chest and spilling from your eyes—Seungmin hasn’t been throwing away the flowers he bought you. He’s been collecting them.

You didn’t realize you were crying—not until you spoke—“Seungmin, what is this?”—then you heard it, your voice withering and wet. When you finally go to meet his gaze, he can’t seem to look at you, tilting his head down in shame.

“W-Well I-I’ve just��” he begins, trailing off with a rub of his burning neck. “Fuck, this is going to sound so stupid,” he flushes, staring down at the single yellow petal that fluttered onto his folded thighs. Suddenly, Seungmin feels your thumb brushing over his knuckles, and something shoots through his skin, something that straightens his spine and evens his breathing.

“I-I’ve um…” This was harder than he thought it would be. “Been collecting them for a while now, I wanted to keep them for when we get married. Wanted to scatter them down the aisle…”

His voice gets smaller with every word, sinking into himself as though that will make the gravity of the sentence less exposed, less raw. For a second, as silence stretches between you, Seungmin feels so stupid, embarrassment painting his cheeks red. You must think he’s such a fool, must think he’s crazy for ever believing he could marry you—his thoughts stop the moment your lips meet his, palms pressed firmly against his cheeks.

“I love you,” you whisper in between breaths, kissing him until it feels like you can’t kiss anymore; until he falls back upon the feathery bed made of magnolias and memories; until, with a star-lit sigh, he pulls away, untucking the red of a dried rose tangled above your brow. Even surrounded by God's most beautiful creations, he can’t bring his gaze to fall from yours, your eyes and all the mesmerizing sparkles they hold.

Seungmin couldn’t trace the exact moment he fell in love with you. Rather, it bloomed slowly over time, a feeling that took root; wrapping around the slabs of his ribs.

With you, he grew, and all of a sudden, with every breath he inhales, he finds you fluttering in his chest. At first, it terrified him. Though, now he knows—some gardens never die.

ᡣ𐭩 jeongin + stalking your goodreads profile to annotate your favorite books

“So, you’re a stalker, huh?” you muse, brushing your palm over Jeongin’s shoulder, which was clearly not a good idea, cause no sooner do you make contact is he jumping twenty feet out of his skin. You throw your hands up when he swivels around, ripping off his headphones like they were going to materialize into a baseball bat.

“Crap, y/n, you scared the hell out of me,” Jeongin pants, a relieved smile pulling on his cheeks; grateful that the intruder was indeed his girlfriend and not a 6-foot-tall man in a scream mask. For a second, he wonders if you’re possessed, a lopsided smirk playing on your lips while you tweak out, kind of laughing, kind of nodding, kind of looking like you need an exorcism. Then it hits him. Hits him like a 200-pound dump truck, rendering him breathless once more. He puts Flash to shame by how fast he slams his laptop shut, scrunching his face in cringe. The laugh you let out is devastating, a full-belly guffaw that makes you double over, stumbling straight into his arms.

For a second, when the lamplight hits you just right, Jeongin has to stop.

His breath catches in his throat, taking all of you in. There you were, with your hair falling in messy tangles, your eyelids slightly smudged in black, your smile boxy and sun-bright, you were perfect, and you were sitting on his lap. If you didn’t start talking, he would have stared at you for hours—probably would have started drooling as well.

“So, this is how you’ve known all my favorite books, huh?” you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck. It takes him a hot second to gather himself, heart fluttering at the newfound proximity.

He stuffs his head into your neck, the heat of his cheeks burning into your skin. “Yeah…is that weird?”

“Is it weird?? Yang Jeongin, I’m pretty sure you just inadvertently proposed to me,” you reply, your tone light-hearted though you're dead serious.

“What?” He chuckles with a shy smile, leaning back.

“Yeah, I mean, you stalk your girlfriend’s Goodreads profile to read and annotate her TBR list. That is a proposal. I don’t make the rules.”

“Is that so?” he smirks, inching forward, your noses brushing together.

“Yeah,” you whisper, hot breath fanning across his lips, you lean in, finally sealing your mouths shut. Jeongin groans, your thumb swiping the nape of his neck. His heart pounds with a thousand different translations of 'I love you'.

“How many?”

He hums, slamming back down to earth, still a little bit dizzy.

“How many books have you bought?”

That sobers him up.

His eyes widen slightly before he bashfully chuckles, awkwardly scratching his ear. “Oh, uh…not that many.”

“Can I see them?” He’s two seconds from saying no, until you brush your lips against his cheeks, then his forehead, then the sides of his eyes, before, finally, he is tasting your grin instead, “Please?”

Well, how can he say no now?

He fiddles with the bottom of your shirt, biting his lip before sighing and pointing under his bed. “They’re all under there.”

You squeal, clambering off him to dive at the foot of his bed, sticking your hands into the dusty abyss below. It doesn’t take you but five seconds to find the box, though it takes you 5 minutes to actually pull the damn thing out, feeling more like a dead body than dead trees.

However, when you flip open the lid, the struggle is all worth it. Your jaw drops. Jeongin’s stomach flips upside down.

"Yang Jeongin, there’s no way..." You peer at him through dewy lashes, there had to be at least fifty books in this container. "You were planning on giving me all of these?"

"Well, yeah. Just...when I had enough time to annotate them."

"You've already given me like 10. How have you found enough time to read them?"

"I read them every night before I go to bed."

"And annotate them?"

He clears his throat, a faint blush falling over his cheeks like rose petals. "Yes."

"Where did you get the money for all this? These books have to have been like a thousand dollars."

"My check had just come in, and I knew how much you liked to read... I just wanted to do something nice for you. Why is this starting to feel kind of like an interrogation? Are you mad? Is this, like, really weird?" Jeongin can feel his eyes widen, anxiously shifting in place.

“One more question,” you step forward, pinching his chin between your thumb and forefinger. He shutters when you make contact, gaze fluttering down. Jeongin expects you to laugh, maybe demand that he takes them back, or the worst of them all tell him he’s too obsessed. What he doesn’t expect you to do is drag him forward, and smash your lips together.

“How are you so perfect?” you exhale, puffing onto his lips like a breath of his own. He was going to show you how, he was going to show you how all night long.

ᡣ𐭩

If you thought he was perfect then you definitely think he is perfect now.

The sun slips through the curtains, dyeing your sweaty skin in gold; your mouth is nuzzled into his neck, lashes tickling his skin every time you shift. He draws phantom circles over your naked waist, savoring this moment, soaking your body in until he can remember the feel of your form through memory alone. You stir, feeling his heartbeat pick up.

It must have been a dream that urged you to say it, because somewhere, on the edge of sleep, you murmur, “What’s your favorite story?”

He didn’t have to think about the answer, not when he had thought about it a million times before. Without hesitation, Jeongin whispers, “Ours.”

(I rushed tf out of some of these I'm sorry)

[myceliacrochet]

Reblog if answer tysm!!

You know, the children scream when those planes drop aid. It crushes people. Then people rush to the aid, and some take it first and shoot at others' feet to keep them away.

Palestinians don't want more things dropped from planes.

The man who posted the above, Ahmed Al-Mashaal, lost two children to the IOF, and he had to endure this. So much cruelty from the sky. It is a deeply degrading and violent way to extend a show of "help."

The U.S. acts like this kind of thing is our only way to help, as if we (yes the power elite, but also all U.S. citizens who pay taxes) aren't funding 70% of the genocide. Biden could end this today, Netanyahu could end this today, and the Israeli hostages, who are being cared for, would be sent back. But will the Palestinian hostages ever be sent back? We know what happens to the precious children Israel is holding hostage.

The text image is something my friend Moneer Raed @raedfamily wrote about those awful planes. He is 19 and helping take care of his 4-year-old sister, Sham. When I ask him how he and his family are, he always says they are fine and he just wants to make sure I'm okay. I've come to learn that he and his family are grateful to be alive, they are very positive, and they are in hell.

I asked him today if he has to walk far to get water. He said yes and these days they have trouble finding flour or even finding out the (extremely exorbitant) price. It is filled with mites and mold.

Humans are doing this, not nature. Certain humans. There is enough food and housing and love in the world for everyone and there are ways to distribute it.

If your taxes have ever funded the IOF, here is an opportunity to pay back some of the reparations you owe.

Donation-protected GoFundMe for Moneer and Sham

Same for Ahmed Al-Mashaal

More about him

More about Moneer and Sham

@opencommunion @phaon1 @heliopixels @neechees @beserkerjewel @deepspaceboytoy @rhubarbspring @lesbianmaxevans @malcriada @turian @sxpph0 @rebel-girl-queen-of-my-world @neptunerings @dykesbat @halalgirlmeg @userpeggycarter @minosbull @hamstertross @buttercuparry @kaleschmidt @jaylung101 @irhabiya @captainsaltymuyfancy2 @timetravellingkitty @sun-and-moon-side @socalgal @xinakwans @kahin @greenmossyrock @theparanoid @steep1253o @victoriawhimsey @dirhwangdaseul @cruzwalters @ladycelebrianofimladris @tamamita @50seagullsinatrenchcoat @deathlonging @nconiku @briarhips @kaislittlecorner @mahoushojoe @sar-soor @rhubarbspring @pcktknife @sawasawako @feluka @anneemay-blog @ralfocups

Edit: See both posts for vetting info.

[ssentimentals]

Hii can i request mingyu + hurt prompt #34? Thankssss

hi sweets! thank you for requesting, hopefully you will like it! 💜

hurt prompts: 'the things you said yesterday... did you mean them?'

someone is caressing your hand. it's a nice feeling to wake up, especially when you know who is responsible for said action. mingyu's face is the first thing you see when you open your eyes and you smile a little. mingyu doesn't smile back and memories of last night rush in, reminding you why you're waking beside him and not in his arms. before panic rises, you remind yourself that mingyu is caressing your hand gently now, so everything can't be that mad.

'morning,' you whisper, afraid to talk in a normal voice for some reason.

'morning.' mingyu repeats and clears his throat. 'slept well?'

you don't really remember how you fell asleep; probably knocked out from crying and fighting. arguments with mingyu were rare but whenever they did happen, they sucked all the energy out of you, leaving you drained and exhausted. truth to be told, you don't even remember coming to the bedroom, so mingyu probably carried you here once you fell asleep in the living room.

'not really,' you reply, not feeling rested at all. 'you?'

he shakes his head. when you first started dating, you both promised each other to never go to bed angry, so what happened last night is an exception of sorts. 'the things you said yesterday... did you mean them?' mingyu asks quietly, voice muffled by the pillow.

your mouth opens but nothing comes out. to your horror, you don't even remember about which things mingyu is talking exactly - a lot of stuff was said yesterday and not all of it was said due to anger or frustration. but mingyu is sensitive, always has been in a much more delicate headspace than you, so you tiptoe around the question, looking for the right answer while also staying honest: 'any of the mean and angry words - no. i love you, gyu, i'd never actually mean any of those. but what i said about the whole thing, like in the beginning, what made me upset in the first place.. yeah, i meant that. i stand by it even now.'

mingyu doesn't say anything at first. he just stares at your hands, chewing on his bottom lip, thinking about your answer. you both treasure honesty the most, so he knows you're being sincere. 'okay.' he settles for in the end, taking a deep breath. 'i also didn't mean everything i said after we moved from the kitchen to the living room.'

you smile and hesitantly interlace your fingers together. 'i know, gyu.'

he nods again and squeezes and when he does that, you feel like you can breathe again. if mingyu is not declining physical contact, if he's still here then you two can work it out. 'we don't have to do it now,' you say, not wanting to get up. 'we can just lay here for a while.'

sigh that mingyu lets out on this is full of relief. 'yes. yes- yeah. please.'

you both move in sync, slotting your bodies together until it's impossible to tell where one ends and another one begins. 'sleep a bit more for now,' mingyu whispers, holding you tight. 'i'll be here when you wake up.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[l-artemisia-del-secolo]

You almost missed the meeting regarding the new exhibit. You had to validate a few showpieces. Books mostly this time. On one of them... what was it... runes... Red cover with rubies, one could think it was painted with blood itself.

Your own reflection in the stones was teasing you. This object was powerful, it was alluring, it was dangerous. You didn't notice how others left.

You were left with the book in the storage. Who created it and why? You were not new to artifacts of presumed witchcraft. But this... it was different. As if the blood on the cover was instantly flowing changing the shades.

Oh, it was one of those days. Time didn't matter.

"Fascinating, isn't it?"

"Oh yes, it is." You didn't even look up. "Have never seen anything like this."

"Oh, I did. A very long time ago. This book belonged to ruthless people."

"What?"

She was a foreigner in this brightly lit room. Nonchalantly sitting in one of those uncomfortable chairs. When did she come in?

"We need to close the storage. All your colleagues left a few hours ago."

Hours? Really? What was she even talking about? You checked your phone. A few missed calls and messages.

Brunette was smiling at your confusion.

"Have we met before?"

"No, I'm instead of Jeff."

"What happened? I saw him yesterday."

"Oh..." Brunette was kinda lost for an instant. "He had to leave. You know. Another department. My name's Rio".

She stood up and very officially offered you her hand.

"Pleased to meet you. My name's..."

"I know everything about you."

Rio was still holding your hand. Maybe you did see her before. Those green eyes. They were mesmerising.

______

A few days passed. You didn't have time to examine the book, but you kept thinking about it. Weirdly your thoughts were coming back to it. In what circumstances something like this could be created? What was written there?

You wanted to feel that book again. Sharp edges and ancient pages.

From the book your mind wandered to the stranger. You asked your colleagues. They knew Jeff was gone, but who was instead of him - no idea. You wanted to see her again. you wanted to lose yourself in those gentle touches again.

___

A few more days. You were giving a lecture. Confident and charming you were in your element. Until you noticed those green eyes amongst the audience. Rio was catching your every move, your every word.

"You were amazing." Brunette caught you after the class. "Truly a master of your craft."

"Well, I do have a certain area of expertise."

"What a tease."

Oh, now you were definitely blushing.

"I haven't seen you at the museum." You tried to find a more safe subject.

"I was busy with other projects. I'm kinda like a consultant for confused people."

You nodded. Why was looking at you like this? As if expecting something, as if waiting for the answer.

"Well, you did find the time for the lecture."

"I found the time for the lecturer."

"I appreciate both the time and the effort."

"Yeah, you have no idea how determined I can be."

Rio winked at you. She was busy, she had to go. She chose to leave you with just a hint of satisfaction.

"Oh, and the book., It is waiting for you."

____

Rio was right. You had to concentrate on your work. Exhibit was approaching, your input was needed. You were spending more and more time with the remains of the old times. You were spending more and more time with that damned book. Those runes were not known to you. As the symbols. Looked like an interpretation of the maiden-mother-crone myth, but there was a green halo around them.

"You need coffee."

That wasn't a question. With Rio nothing was.

"Thanks." You took a sip "Oh, double espresso. How did you know?"

"Had a feeling, you like it... intense."

"Sure."

"So..." Rio nudged your shoulder to get all the attention she always required. "How is this thing going?"

"Good."

"And this?" She pointed at the book.

"Waiting for the answer from a few colleges."

"Well, I'm sure the answer is going to be fascination. But..." She took your phone and bag without asking. "you need to be someplace else."

___

Why did you even let her command? You just blinked and suddenly you were near an old theater.

"Magic show?"

Rio had tickets for the first row.

"What can I say? I was always fond of illusions."

It was noticeable. She was cheering even for the simplest tricks. She adored theatricality and tension. Except for maybe the tricks that involved cheating death. Yeah, Rio huffed in annoyance a few times.

"Well, this is not how I expected my evening to go."

Street was completely silent. You and Rio were the only ones who decided to enjoy the autumn night.

"I can tell you how all the tricks worked."

Oh, for sure Rio knew.

"It's your hobby?"

"Let's say, I've seen these shows quite a few times."

"That would destroy all the magic part of the performance, don't you think?"

Rio stopped, snapped her fingers and in the other hand a flower appeared.

"Oh, you're smooth." You laughed at the present. "So, you're into tricks."

"No, I'm more into magic."

______

It was a book of protective spells. It was supposed to save from evil and wrong, from hungry and desperate. And not protect, it was supposed to hide from the sight of darkness. Someone was supposed to be hidden in the blood of the killed. You spend hours trying to find the recipient of this protection.

"Well, that's an interesting observation." Rio put her legs on the table. You were having a dinner at your office. "Amazing."

"I'm glad you're happy with my research."

"I truly am. Do you know how those spells are supposed to be activated."

"I assume by the blood of the protected."

"Yeah, guess it could work." Rio shrugged. "Witches were never that imaginative."

It became some kind of a routine. At the beginning you didn't see Rio at all. But now she was always near. With lunches, coffees, books and affection. And whatever she was calling magic.

Rarely you could feel comfortable with someone so close. For years you preferred to be on your own. It just never clicked with anyone. But Rio... she knew you. Your tastes, your dreams, your desires. Her affection was a given, just a fact that you stumbled into. It was a weird feeling. Like you were continuing to live something you never had.

____

"I don't think you're doing it right."

You could feel Rio was close. Her hair was almost tickling your neck. There was no need for her to stay right behind you. But it apparently was the best spot to watch you translating the text.

"You're being a little distractive, Rio."

"How? I'm helping. This sign here. It clearly doesn't mean death."

"Well, that's a woman with a skull instead of a face."

"I'd say she's more about the natural order of things.'

"Maybe."

___

You were working more, you were sleeping less. You were distracted. Your dreams changed, in them you could freely read the spells. Voices without purpose were helping you. Sometimes even Rio couldn't have you all for herself.

"I brought you something."

"Huh?"

Rio was holding a dagger. Black stones, same runes.

"Just don't play with it often."

"Where did you get this?"

"It was here all the time. Kinda lost in the mess."

"Yeah."

You didn't care whether she was lying or not. Was it the other part of the story? Was it the threat or help?

You took it. Heavy with cold and sharp with pain it fit your hand properly.

"Every witch was supposed to have such a dagger." Rio took the knife. "Usually it was carved with the symbols of a greater entity, You know for protection."

She was holding your hand, caressing the palm with the cold of a steel. Still dangerous, still deadly. You didn't dare to look at her movements.

"And what entity protected this blade?"

"I think you know. You read the spells."

You could feel your skin almost succumbing to the blade. But it was so much more unbearable to have Rio so close. She was the perfection itself. You didn't care about the blade, you leaned into her.

"Fuck." you muttered under your breath. But it was too late. Your blood was spilled.

You were her prey, Rio pushed and you and the blade cut deeper, but you didn't care. She was kissing you, she was hurting you.

Dagger fell on the floor. Without breaking the kiss Rio guided your hands to the support of the table. Your wound touched the book.

Suddenly the pain shot through your whole body. You wanted to scream, but Rio didn't let you. Holding you, making you feel her passion, brunette was only deepening the kiss.

You opened your eyes. The room was on fire. Games of the primal flame were everywhere. Everything was melting away. Instead another reality was forming.

You groaned into the kiss. It was familiar. It took all the strength you had to push Rio away. She was breathing heavily.

"What the..." you looked at your palm. It was healed. "What... what happened..."

Those voices were right. Rio. It was all because of Rio.

"It was the only way..."

Her voice was trembling. You heard this already. Her plea, her apology.

"I know you." You took the book from the table. Now those spells made sense. "Rio Vidal."

"I thought... " She was choking on her regret and doubt. "I thought I wouldn't be able to find you."

"I remember..."

Rio gently touched your cheek. You didn't feel it. Suddenly there was a wall with the thickness of centuries.

"My love..."

"It was always you, wasn't it?" Your fingers were tingling. "You were always the reason."

"I don't..."

"They died because of you."

"What? No."

You grabbed her wrist. You were strong, stronger than you remembered. Purple magic was pouring from your veins. It didn't let Rio move.

"Because of you all those people were dead. You attacked innocents."

"No."

"My coven tried to hunt you. And in return you destroyed others."

'"No, no, no. These are not your memories. It's an illusion your coven gave you."

You pushed her. Rio was the plague. You remembered it. Your sisters warned you.

"I will banish you from here."

Rio didn't even think about defending herself. She needed to let you be closer.

You grabbed her by the throat. Rio only obeyed. You needed to cut out her black heart.

You waved and the dagger appeared in your hand. You were calling for your weapon. It returned to the magic that created it. But the second you were ready to swing, it burned you.

You were holding the same knife Rio gave you. It wasn't possible. Your enemy was protecting you.

"No. It's not true..."

Yes, you didn't remember. But what if... you were holding a piece of your old life. Rio was in every cell of your body. How long were you like this? How long were you far from her? You were still washed over by hate. But not because of Rio. No, you couldn't hurt her.

"I can help you..."

You shook your head in disbelief and disappeared in purple smoke.

_____

You didn't know where to go. The life you remembered wasn't yours, just as a life you were living for the last who knew how many years.

Your sisters betrayed you, they were not the only ones. Such strong magic required the assistance of the sorcerer supreme.

It doesn't matter what you were thinking about, you always were coming back to Rio. She saved you, she broke the spell. But if she was the one lying. What if she forged the blade? No, no, not possible. Not your Rio. Your Rio? What these weeks meant for you? Were you in love?

Not only your head, your blood was boiling with magic. You forgot this feeling. You were trying to control the shaking in your hands but it was just getting worse.

"Rio." you whispered.

"Yes, my love."

She appeared in front of you. Her crown was glowing in the dark. No point in playing pretend anymore.

"This blade belongs to me."

Rio nodded.

"You're the entity that is protecting me."

Nod again.

"What happened?"

"They wanted to separate us. They were afraid that you would have special treatment. And with that become too powerful for them to handle."

"Special treatment?"

"Yes." Rio hesitated. "You were the only one who could have my... favor."

"I don't understand."

"You could be invincible. I wouldn't let anything happen to you. You were one of the more powerful wielders of magic. And that was a dangerous combination. So they hid you. Sealed you in the book. It took me centuries to find you."

Your heart was aching. If it was true, your life was taken by those whom you considered family.

"And we..." You blinked away a memory. "Did we ever have a garden?"

"Oh, yes." Rio dared to come closer. "I created a pocket dimension for us. Just us. We could do whatever we wanted."

"I also remember that Rio is not your only name."

She was dreading this moment. For her only hope was left. But for you it was finally the beginning. Not the memories, but affection was guiding you. All those memories of Rio's betrayal. You had to trust your heart. Hate wasn't yours, it wasn't real.

 Yes, it was the truth. It was always Rio. The only thing you wanted was for her to be your reason for existence. And it only could be explained with memories that you couldn't fathom.

You were gravitating towards her. It was easier for you to believe in the ghost of ancient love than lose Rio. Your Rio.

"No, it's not."

For the first time Rio wasn't looking you in the eyes. You had to lift her chin. She was barely breathing, she was barely even functioning, waiting for your sentence. Regal entity reduced to a mortal.

"I'm in love with Rio, but Lady Death..." You pulled her into a kiss. This time your powers entwined with the glow being almost unbearable to be around. "...is a part of me."

"I will help you remember. I will help you return everything they've stolen from you."

"Oh yes." You smiled into her skin. "Right after I punish those who separated us."

[ultralightpoe]

Sticky - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Yeah the fandom is EATING with this song and that trailer so I figured I might as well feed into my own obsessions. -Ultralight

Song Inspo - Sticky from Tyler The Creator

Word Count: 1851

Warnings: Fighting, reference to smexy times

Requests: OPEN [working on the first round now]

MAIN MASTER LIST

[Thank you for the gif @unearthlydust ]

Enjoy!

It’s the bitter laugh that no one wants to hear, that’s the moment when the realization begins setting in. The chill down his spine, locking in the fear as the cold sweat begins to form, knuckles tightening around his glass of whiskey. 

The room wasn’t cold, with the fire crackling just a few feet away, so there wasn’t really a reason for him to be shivering. But that cold embrace of fear was wrapping Declan Morarie like a blanket. He was a man coming to the realization he was about to die. 

It was Valentina Allegra de Fontaine, sat at the end of the long table she hadn’t been invited to, in a home she hadn’t been welcome in but still sat in nevertheless. In the beginning of Declans career he always wondered how people remembered her full name, but watching the women now he understood. She was completely untouchable. 

“Oh come on now,” She teases, clapping her hands together in excitement as that same bitter laugh passes her lips. “I’m excited for the show.” 

“You think this is funny?” He bites out.

“Well from my seat I think it’s pretty great. I, however, would never want to be the one getting hunted down by Bucky Barnes and his fucking wife.” She chuckles, pulling a piece of lint off her dress. 

“And how….” He has to take a breath in to compose himself, slamming the glass on the table before him. “How did they get to me?”

“You tortured her for years, your very own project….. Well her and 20 others. Honestly it was only a matter of time before they tracked you down.” She explains, standing up and walking herself to the bartop. 

“And you didn’t happen to put my name in their ear?”

“Barnes will be my problem….. On another day.” She nods, pouring herself a shot and turning to him to cheers before downing it. “But today, he’s yours.” 

She slams the glass down until it splatters across the entire floor, her heels crunching into it as she waltzes to grab her coat. “I do apologize old friend, and I am….. Hopeful? Yes, that seems like a decent word, I’m hopeful you will succeed surviving.”

“I will.” He sneers, but even the words fall flat.

“Oh I’m sure you will.” She laughs, her words dripping with sarcasm. “Though I do hear things get a bit sticky when those two decide they want someone dead.”

- 

“Who would have thought that this… hunting down the bad guys of the world could be soooo… hmmm.” You tilt your chin up in a quiet contemplation as your husband frets over your suit. He busies himself with checking all the safety measures you both had designed for the suits when you decided they would be worn again. 

“Tiring.”

“Cathartic,” You hum back, sliding your hands down to snatch onto his own and bring them up so he can stop fretting. “You’re grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy.”

“You are.” You argue, kissing the knuckles of his metal hand before doing the same to his flesh hand. “You didn’t get much sleep and now you’re tired and grumpy. I don’t like when you do this grumpy.”

“No more with the word grumpy. You have overused it.” He huffs, leaning to kiss your forehead. 

“Fine, ill-tempered.”

“Hardly,”

“Testy.” 

“Not even close.”

“Crotchety.”

“Really? We’re going that far?”

“Hmmmm. Waspish. How about that?”

“I….. will allow it if it means we can just get this over with.” He kisses around your face, using his metal hand to tilt your face for easier access while you fight off a smile and push him back. 

“You know what to do.”

“Straight to business then.” And though he turns his back to you he keeps you close while using the tech pad to monitor the halls of the building you both were about to enter. 

“He doubled up on guards. Someone warned him.” He analyzes, shifting a bit to show you the footage. “Valentina.”

“Hmmm.” You choose not to actually respond, allowing your husband to work through his own anger and suspicion while you watch the guards to begin learning the patterns. 

“You don’t believe me.”

“I believe you.” You defend, passing the tech back. “But I don’t want you getting ahead of yourself. That is a hunt for another day.” 

“You ready?”

“Of course.” And it’s easy, the way you two fall to the plan so naturally, having worked together for years now. He lets you pass by him, his flesh hand catching a strand of your hair as you strut past, casting him one more glance before disappearing to find your entrance. 

Once you are at your mark you place the comm in, tapping it twice to make sure it works as you begin slicing the door with the silent laser. 

“Placed?” Bucky asks after a moment, meaning he had made it to his own mark. 

“You know it.” You mutter, pushing the door open in the small place you had cut before easily sliding in, your feet near silent on the ground as you watch the hall and begin trekking through. 

Moving like a shadow should never have been this easy, and yet it was, all thanks to the man you were here to kill. 

“будь в безопасности.” He mutters in your ear, his voice a soft caress in the first moment you hear steps approaching. ‘Be Safe’, his favorite thing to say since he knew you didn’t need luck. 

“être en sécurité,” You repeat his saying back to him, this time in french just to bother him since he could never speak it fluently. 

And then you finally meet the person walking closer, but before he can even prepare himself you are already sliding across the floor to kick out his legs before you swipe the overly large gun from his hip and knock him out with it, sliding on your knees to face forward with the stolen gun and raise yourself back to your feet. 

Each movement is a simple glide, one in front of the other as you trace the hall for movement. The plan was simple, meet in the middle and make your way up. You just had to shut down all the exits first. 

You started with the elevators, opening the first and shooting the controls until the light within it flickers and marking it useless and moving to the second one. When the doors slide open a guard moves to rush out, and you use his outstretched arm to heft him over your shoulder until you are throwing him to the floor and twisting until you hear a snap. 

“Sorry.” You whisper, kicking him away as you hear Bucky grunt within the comms as he finds his own issues. You mimic the movements you had used on the other elevator before rushing to the front entrance and using their own night time security gates against them. Locking anyone from leaving and keeping anyone from entering. 

And now that you were finished with that you began you started your way to meet your husband. 

It only took 15 minutes and by the time you do find him he’s leaning on the wall like nothing else mattered, tilting his metal hand under the light above him to admire the etching done for your wedding. 

“Fancy meeting you here.” You murmur, your tone seductive as you lean next to him. “What’s a place like this doing in a guy like you? …….Wait, don’t I have that backward?” 

“Keep looking at me like that and I’m sure we’ll find a lot of things backwards.”

“Oh,” You blink, staring at him. “I honestly can’t tell if that was sexual or a threat.”

“Then why can I practically hear your heart beating through your chest?”

“I never said I wouldn’t like it as either.” You huff, turning on your toes and signaling him to follow you. “You’re very beguiling.”

“Another big word. Should I be worried?”

“You got me the dictionary. Which I was slightly offended by.” You huff, twisting your body up the stairs as you see a figure in the corner of your vision, working with grace to pull him down and over the railing. “Stop flirting with me Barnes.”

“You stop flirting with me, Barnes.” He snaps back, making sure that guard stays down before using his gun and following you as back up. “Almost there.”

“Noted.” You murmur, shooting the tech pad to enter the door from the stairwell. The second the door swings open there are guards swarming you both, but it is lightwork when you both work together. 

The man that went to punch you met Bucky's metal fist before he could even make contact, the knife that almost hits Bucky’s mid section is easily lost the second you kick the wrist holding it. Like a bloody tango, every motion has a repercussion. 

“Любовь [love],” You huff, spinning to take out two men while facing Bucky. He reads your idea the second you make eye contact, allowing you to use his thigh as a stepping stool and throw one leg over his shoulder. 

He shoots the men in front of you both as he makes his way down the hall, you taking out the men coming up to flank you. 

By the time you reach the double doors holding the enemy within,  you swing off his shoulder with ease before an unknown figure rushes you both. 

You are thrown back, back meeting the floor as you slide while Bucky is thrown into the wall. 

“What the…..” He starts. 

“Fuck.” You finish, upon seeing who just hit you both. 

He was tall, with red eyes and a sneer on his face, yet another over drugged super soldier. 

Bucky is the first to regain himself, standing quickly and pushing himself into the soldier to knock the weight off and send him down. Only he pushes back, both men stuck in the hold, so you launch up. 

Your hands hit your husbands shoulders and you vault over him to lock your thighs around the neck of the soldier and twisting your body to send him flying back with you. 

Unlike you, however, he doesn’t manage to catch himself and falls on his back. Bucky is there, foot on his neck as you pull the gun and finish him off before moving to kick in the door and find Declan Morarie.

He doesn’t say anything, merely turning to the door with a bottle in hand as he staggers for balance. 

“Fuck.” 

“Fuck.” Bucky mocks, giving you a look before you both rush at him. 

-

“I think you need to go to bed.” You huff, watching your husband pull out the paperwork the second you both got home, after dropping your duffel bags by the doors. “No work.”

“I need to review her bills, she’s hiding something in plain sight-” His conspiracy theories about Valentina were interrupted by you slipping your shirt off and throwing it at him. 

“A hunt for another day then.” He amends, following you into the bedroom as quickly as he can.

[thatmexisaurusrex]

I think what really gets me is what the show is telling us through that breakup. That's what hurts the most.

It's that a queer person who's sad, who's alone, who's never had a stable family life; a queer person who's only gotten to a point where they're happy with who they are later in life; a queer person who yearns for a family, for love, for being someone's first choice but doesn't believe he can ever have those things; a queer person who has obviously been burned and believes that is the only outcome for him now; that no one would want him as family. That no one would love him enough to choose him first.

He walks out that door.

Alone. Scared. Spiraling. Reacting to trauma rather than Buck himself. It's seeing that and having the show tell us, yes, that's what he deserves. That's all he gets. He doesn't get a happy ending. He doesn't get good closure. He doesn't get to believe that someone wants him enough to fight for him.

Tommy was right all along.

All his fears were true and will be what he ends up with. Older queer people who want families and are scarred by their own past experiences don't get love or a family. They don't get a place to call home.

Then, you have Buck; Buck blindsided by the trauma; Buck seeing his entire six-month relationship fall apart and just letting it happen to himself again. Having yet another person in his life, in a moment of cowardice and pain, quietly and brokenly lash out that he couldn't believe Buck would actually take this seriously; that he couldn't believe that Buck would love him once the pedestal was gone and the shininess wore off. That, once again, Buck lets his relationship play out without any idea of how to be active in it. That someone Buck loves, that he thought about possibly marriage with one day, that he wants to live with, leaves him.

That Buck, once again, is abandoned.

That Buck can't know himself.

That the show wants to lean into lazy biphobic ideas and tell us, yes, that's what Buck deserves. The thriving relationship that he had crumbles within minutes because Buck doesn't get to be happy; how can he know what happiness is if he isn't playing the field? Because nothing he did before Tommy counted. Buck 1.0 didn't count. None of his previous relationships counted. Because they were all ladies, and how can you know if you've only been with one man?

Telling the audience that you can't be happy in a relationship if it's somehow a "first", despite everything pointing to the relationship being solid and good for Buck.

It is the worst possible scenario.

It is a nightmare for both Buck and Tommy.

Both messages are terrible for the audience.

There were so many ways they could have broken up and I would have been fine with it. I've talked about it before, but I was fine with Josh and Arnold breaking up in Please Like Me and I still love the show. I watched episodes with Josh and Arnold from Please Like Me as a comfort when I was reeling about this that first night! I was fine with Alexis and Ted breaking up on Schitt's Creek and I was still fine with the show. I was okay with Amelia and Kai breaking up and I'm still watching Grey's Anatomy. Because all of those breakups were understandable. They made sense. I can like couples and be okay with them not working out. And they're fictional. Fictional shit rarely hurts me, if ever. That's not my problem at all here.

It's how this happened. It's the message it signals to the audience. It's devastating. I'm still devastated by the choice. I've never felt this way about a breakup for two characters ever. The core of my grief and genuine hurt is what the show proves it believes in through this breakup. And that's what's hurt me.

[nakylvr]

Hello, could you do a one shot of Sophia from Katseye with a female reader? They are in the same group and like each other, but they never admit it, until one day when something happens in which Sophia gets jealous of the reader with some boy, and then declares herself afraid of losing her.

this was so fun to write, thank you so much for requesting! 🫶

— I LIKE YOU (I DO)

sophia laforteza (katseye) x fem!reader

summary: dealing with a crush in the same group is hard. dealing with the jealousy that comes with it is also hard. which is why sophia confesses out of fear.

warnings/tags: language, fluff, jealous!sophia, mutual pining, 7th member!reader, confessions

wc: 3,0k

main masterlist | katseye masterlist

Debuting was a dream come true. After dealing with two years of training and a survival show, you felt as if everything had worked out just the way it was intended to. You were close with all the girls that had debuted with you into the group and believed there was nothing that could go wrong from there. That was, except for the crush you had. 

You thought it was silly in the beginning, that it wouldn’t become anything too serious. You were with the other trainees since the beginning of the program, and grew extremely close to all of them. However, you realized within a few months that your “silly crush” was no longer silly anymore. It’s not like it was your fault! How could anyone not develop a crush on Sophia Laforteza? Still, you thought you were partially insane for it. 

The only thing you didn’t notice was Sophia’s feelings towards you were the same. 

Sophia felt like she had been shot in the chest when she was bluntly told by Daniela that it was obvious she had feelings for you. The “duh, it’s obvious” made her start panicking at the thought of being obvious about liking someone while being oblivious about it herself.  There was no way, in her mind at least. But, when she was told it she did realize it made sense, even if she didn’t notice the things she did herself. 

While Sophia was one of the older sister-like figure for most of the girls, it was noticeable that she would spend more of her time with you. If you were having a rough time during practice she would be there reassuring you and helping you with each step, when you weren’t practicing she was essentially always by your side, even if it was just sitting on the couch, Sophia made sure every time that she was the one sitting next to you, and if any of the other girls did she would throw a fit until one of them moved. She cooked for all the girls, but if you two were up in the middle of the night in the dorm she would make you food that was from your culture depending on what was in the dorm at the time. You two weren’t roommates, but the girls have multiple pictures of her making her way into your room to lay down with you and fall asleep that neither of you know about nor have seen. 

And yet, neither of you said anything. Both of you were too scared to do anything. It made sense. There was the initial fear of liking another person, then the fear of dealing with being in the same group as said person, and the many different outcomes that could come from it. Additionally, neither of you would ever believe the other reciprocated those feelings. 

You learned fairly quickly after debuting that Sophia could become jealous of when others would be around you, but you thought it was merely platonic and the sisterly love she had for all the girls in the group. You wouldn’t call yourself oblivious, but apparently, you were if you couldn’t figure this out. But, then again. There were a few times that made you start wondering about certain things. 

The first instance was when you were in Korea for the survival show, and she wakes you up in the middle of the night to go to a convenience store. 

“Psst, Yn, are you awake?” 

The answer was yes. You had been awake for the past two hours trying to get to sleep, so when you heard Sophia’s hushed voice ask you that question in the dark, you immediately responded. “Yeah.” You open your eyes to see Sophia crouching in front of your bed, the hood of her hoodie over her head and a small smile on her face as she hears you reply. 

“Do you want to go to a convenience store with me?” Sophia asks you. 

You can tell by the look on her face that she wants you to say yes, her eyes wide and filled with anticipation of your answer, the small smile on her face, and it’s what wins you over in the end despite your tiredness and dreading schedules for the next few days. “Yeah, sure,” You answer with a nod. “What time is it?” You ask, sitting up and rubbing your eyes with your hands. 

“It is…” Sophia’s voice trails off as she pulls her phone out of her pocket and looks at the time. “1:42!” She answers, showing you the phone. 

“Why are you even awake at this hour?” You ask her while yawning, grabbing your phone off the charger and swinging your legs over the bed, scooting yourself closer to the edge. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” Sophia shrugs, standing up. “Plus, I’m really hungry and want ramen.” She finishes with a smile. 

You let out a quiet chuckle and nod your head. “Yeah, that makes sense,” You say, getting up off your bed. “Give me a minute to get ready, I look like a mess right now,” You add, running a hand through your hair to try and fix what you know is a mess. 

“You look perfect,” Sophia responds the second after you speak without a hint of hesitation. It's too dark for you to see the blush make its way onto her face when she realizes those words actually came out instead of just staying in her head, but you're also grateful for the darkness as it hid your own flushed face. “I-I’ll be in the living room. Just come out when you're ready,” She says after a moment of silence, trying not to sound panicked but her stammering is noticeable. Within another second, Sophia hurries out of the room quietly, shutting the door behind her and going to sit down on the couch. 

You have no time to respond before Sophia is out of the room leaving you back in the darkness. You can’t lie to yourself and say that hearing those words from her made you feel warm inside because it did. Even if it wasn’t meant to be taken that way, it was still nice to have it be said while looking like a zombie half-awake at one in the morning. All you do to get changed is fix your hair, put a beanie on to cover the top, and put on a pair of slip-on shoes before leaving the room quietly. When you enter the living room, Sophia is sitting on the couch with her phone in her hands, looking at it so intently that she doesn’t even notice you walking up to her until you are standing right in front of her and speaking. 

“Wow, for someone who woke me up at one in the morning, you sure aren’t paying attention to me, huh?” 

Sophia’s head shoots up from her phone and a smile immediately makes its way onto her face. “Sorry, I was looking at something,” She replies. 

“Something important enough for me to go back to sleep?” You say with a short chuckle. 

“Nope!” Sophia shakes her head and quickly stands up. “Come on, let’s go!” She grabs your hand and starts walking to the front door. 

You let her drag your tired body to the front door and leave the house. You had your hood over your head like Sophia as you two started walking down the streets of Seoul to find a convenience store. You don’t even realize her hand is still holding onto yours until you glance down to look at the time on your watch, and a blush forms on your face, but you don’t do anything as you let your other hand fall back down to your side. 

After around ten minutes of talking whilst walking the streets, Sophia eventually spotted a convenience store and dragged you inside along with her. You felt an odd sense of relief when she let go of your hand finally, but you also wished she held onto it longer. But, again, you didn’t say anything as you two walked inside the small store. 

You absentmindedly follow Sophia as she roams the store looking through each of the small aisles of snacks. You stop in a random aisle and let Sophia walk off in another direction, grabbing a chocolate bar before continuing on your way to where Sophia was. You turn the corner to see her ripping open a package of ramen and you silently walk up behind her, peering over her shoulder. 

“Which one did you choose?” 

“Jesus Christ!” Sophia jumps, turning to look at you. “You scared the shit out of me!” 

“Sorry,” You smile innocently at her. 

Seeing your smile has all the (petty) anger fading from Sophia’s body the second she sees it. She couldn’t lie, she did love your smile. It’s just she wished they were directed towards her more, even if there was already more to her than the other girls. She doesn’t even notice she’s staring until you point at the package in her hands. 

“You know that’s like, super spicy, right?” You ask her. 

“Huh?” She lets out, not hearing what you said due to being stuck in her thoughts and staring. “Oh! I think I’ll be fine,” She shakes her head, turning back to the machine that dispensed the hot water. 

“That’s what you say now,” You say, grabbing a package of ramen and one of the plastic bowls. You rip open the package with your teeth and pour the contents into the bowl, not noticing Sophia’s gaze on you out of the corner of her eye while you move. 

The two of you watch the water pour into both of the bowls and you yawn, covering your mouth with your hand and rubbing your eyes with your other hand. 

“You should get an energy drink,” Sophia says. 

“I’ll be alright,” You reply. “Plus, I’m used to Redbulls.” 

“Redbulls,” Sophia shakes her head mumbling to herself. “Those things are so bad.” 

“I just like the strawberry apricot flavor,” You shrug your shoulders, grabbing the bowl from the dispenser and covering it with its top. “All the other flavors are shitty.” 

“They’re all shitty, Yn,” Sophia retorts, grabbing her bowl and sitting down at the little 2-person table. 

“Not the strawberry apricot,” You respond, sitting down in front of her. 

“Sure, sure,” She replies sarcastically while nodding her head. 

There’s a moment of silence that fills the space between you two and the small table, and you’re not sure what to say. You’re so awkward with Sophia outside of practice and the dorms that going out in the middle of the night with her feels weird now that it’s just the two of you alone. It’s not an awkward silence, it’s calming given the chaos you were thrown into daily with the program. But, you don’t know what to say. Maybe there isn’t anything to be said in the first place, you’re not completely sure. All you know is that this isn’t so bad, spending time alone with her without the other girls nearby. Looking at it now, you two look like a couple going to a place this late into the night just for some ramen. The thought made your face flush, and you look down at the table trying to not show it. 

“Are you okay?” Sophia questions once you randomly look down. 

“Yeah,” You nod your head, looking back up and at her. “I was just thinking,” You reply. 

Your words have Sophia raising one of her eyebrows, looking at you with an expression you hadn’t seen on her before. “About what?” She asks another question. 

The new look she’s giving you has you not knowing what to say. You could lie and say you were thinking about something totally different or, you could tell the truth and lowkey admit your crush on her. You can tell she’s anticipating your answer, and you stumble out words before you can even think over them and determine if you should say them. “I was just thinking about how we kinda look like a couple going out alone like this.” 

Sophia’s eyes widen for a split second before they return to normal, which you fail to notice, and she isn’t sure how to respond. She’s always known what to say and how to respond to things, but for some reason, she’s struggling right now. But, she tries her best to not show it. “Yeah, we kinda do, don’t we?” She replies, tilting her head slightly and smiling. “You don’t feel weird about that?” 

Her response along with her smile has the prominent blush on your face growing bigger, and you shake your head at her question. “No,” You answer. “Do-” You clear your throat out of nervousness. “Do you?” 

“No,” Sophia immediately answers, shaking her head with the smile not leaving her face. 

You weren't really sure what that meant in the moment, but when you two returned to the house you found yourself unable to sleep due to the thoughts running through your mind of what it could possibly mean. But, you didn't voice these thoughts out loud ever. Except to Megan, who insisted that it was obvious, Sophia liked you as well. 

Once the realization dawned on you that surely, Sophia liked you back, you felt a whole assortment of feelings that you didn't know what to do about. You didn't want to confess, because of the possibility that you were wrong, accidentally mistaking the kindness for liking you. But, you were having a hard time keeping it inside at the same time. 

You ended up keeping it inside the whole time. Throughout the program, throughout debuting, you didn't say a word. You couldn't. You didn't want to ruin everything that was built just because you ended up developing a silly crush on her. You weren't stupid enough to do that. 

In the end, it was Sophia who confessed first. 

It was an off day after months of schedules after officially debuting, and you and Sophia were doing a Target run to get groceries for the dorm. She had left you with the cart while she went further down the aisle to get something, leaving you standing there tapping your hand on the cart to a random song. 

You heard your name from behind you, and you turned your head to see one of your old friends walking up to you. A smile instantly grows on your face seeing him walk up to you. 

“Jax! I haven't seen you in forever!” You say smiling, hugging him as he walks up to you. 

“How are you doing?” He asks you once he pulls out of the hug. “You’re like, famous now,” He laughs lightly.

“I’m good!” You answer, giggling softly at his second sentence. “I’m not famous yet, Jax. I just debuted.” You shake your head. “But uh, it's something.”

“Mm?” He hums, tilting his head to the side. “What do you mean?” He questions.

“Nothing,” You shake your head again. “Don't worry about-” You stop your words when you hear footsteps approaching from behind and stopping next to you. 

“Sorry, no pictures,” Sophia says while putting the items in the cart, putting her hand up.

“Oh, I’m not a-”

“Sorry, we have to get going now,” She cuts him off before he can finish. “Come on,” She grabs your hand and starts walking away.

“Sophia, what the hell?” You instantly say when she stops halfway across the store. “He was my friend.” You pry your hand out of her grip. 

“I don't like him,” She responds, shaking her head. 

“What?” You question. “Okay, so? I haven't seen him for months! And you just dragged me off! You can't just do that!”

Sophia shakes her head again, not knowing what to do. She acted without thinking, she rarely does that. Now she got herself stuck in a situation not knowing how to handle it. You're clearly irritated judging by the look on your face, and she's contemplating just outright saying the reason she did it, the reason she did everything when it came to you. “I-” She starts, but you're quick to cut her off.

“You're what?” You cross your arms over your chest. “You’ve been acting weird ever since the debut, hell, since the lineup was announced! Part of me is starting to think you secretly hate me or something!”

“What?” Sophia lets out, looking at you like you just said something insane. “No, no, no, no, I don't hate you!” She says quickly, panicking truly for once in her life. “Yn, you have to understand I can't-”

“Understand what, Sophia? That-”

“I have feelings for you!” Sophia raises her voice to speak over you, her face immediately turning red when she realizes what she said. “I mean, I, uhm,” She stammers out as the look on your face changes and you take a step towards her.

“Are you serious?” You question seriously. “Please don't be lying to me right now.”

“I’m serious,” She answers quietly. “I know it's not-” She stops abruptly when you cup her face in your hands, staring at you with wide eyes. 

There's a moment of silence that lingers in the air as you two stare at each other, before you hesitantly start leaning closer to her. You stop, hesitating again with your lips merely inches away from hers, trying to see in her eyes if she really wanted this. Before you can do anything else, Sophia closes the gap and kisses you. It's quick as she pulls away, smiling at you with you smiling back.

“You don't have a clue how much I’ve wanted that to happen,” You admit shamelessly. 

“Mm, I had a feeling,” She says jokingly. 

“Oh really?” You reply in the same tone, tilting your head to the side.

“Yeah, Dani claimed it was ‘obvious’ to everyone else,” She nods.

“I’m so going to kill her when we get back,” You grumble out.

“Oh be quiet, it's cause of her this happened anyways,” Sophia pats your head gently. “You can kill her later.”

“Fine.”

[kizzer55555]

Ok so, both Dan and Ellie are in clone bodies. I headcannon that Ellie has to constantly take Ecto Dejecto to stay stable. Kinda like vitamins or insulin pins for those with diabetes. And let’s say Dan’s body was destabilizing because of the timeline so he put his soul in a new body. But just like Ellie, no clone of a Halfa (something both dead and alive) can survive without the ecto shots or it starts destabilizing too (at lest they could still do something about it unlike his previous body). They were fine in the tank but once they get taken out, that destabilization process starts happening again. So the bats assume the 14 year old is the only ‘stable’ clone. (Poor Tim. Also poor Kon because you know he’s going to get trauma from this and ask what if he had been destabilized or something? What if he is destabilizing and he doesn’t know it?)

I say all three halfas have their memories (but are assumed dead and had their records wiped by Vlad in preparation for him taking them as his kids) so they have nowhere to go BUT, they are also aware of their bodies condition. So the minute they are out of the pods, Dan and Ellie know that they just started a timer and have to somehow get the ecto dejecto. But how do they communicate that to the bats? The guys have no idea what they are talking about, just that they are claiming they are dnestablaising despite all records and data coming out as them being fine. (Maybe the bats even wonder if Ra’s programed them to feel like they had to take this ‘ecto dejecto’ in order to stay alive. That way, they would become reliant on him and could not leave.) So the bats may not believe them. Especially when all the clones are insistent that they are not clones. That they are in ‘denial’ that they are clones. Some of the other clones try to help with that (at least for Danny since Ellie and Dan know they are in clone bodies). (Yes, we are all named different forms of Danny. THIS IS COMPLETELY NORMAL!) So the bats don’t believe them….until they actively start destabilizing in front of them. (And Danny has been working overtime trying to remember the formula as the only person who ever actually saw it. Since he doesn’t have pure ecto, he might have to experiment with the closest thing he can find. His own blood in ghost form.

(Imagine they think Danny is self harming when they see ‘evidence’.)

Spleen Suprize

Completely random idea popped into my head that I thought I would share. Basically what if Ras had had Dan, Danny, and Dani pods in same room Tim’s spleen is stored in and the bats thought that he cloned Tim using the spleen.

Imagine if Vlad had a tiff with Ras Al Ghul over something and Ras goes to take Vlad out, only to find three kids being held captive in what looks like Lazarus water fill pods. This only make Ras further feel justified in dealing with the arrogant pest. But who is he to pass up taking some potential assets.

So the pod kids ,one boy who looks 16, another boy who looks 14, and a girl who looks 12, and all of Vlad’s data and equipment in the lab are packed up and brought back to Nanda Parbat. Unfortunately just after everything has been unloaded into a storage room to be sorted through later is when the Bat and his brood come charging in and making havoc.

As predicted the Bats hadn’t appreciated all the clones of Damian being sent to kill him. Since it was clear the bat brood were targeting all the labs.

—————

Mean while the bats have finished uploading viruses and burning the other labs when they come across one that was barely more then a storage room. Inside they find what looks like a shelved cloning project, including three teens, oh and the jar with Tim’s spleen. Fudge, now he has to tell them he is actually missing a spleen. Good thing he was already in compartmentalization mode to not Greek out over his clone kids, that he is going to be so much better to than Superman was to Kon, that argument will have to wait.

Now than I am thinking that Vlad had kidnapped Dan and forced him to fuse into a clone body, and then was keeping him asking the pod while his memory was being wiped and rewritten into the son Vlad wanted. Dani had witnessed part of that and went to Danny for help, but Vlad decided her accidentally getting away would actually be the perfect bait for a trap. And you can guess the rest from there.

But I encourage you to add on with reblogs. Likes are nice but reading what you add is better.

[ot8xbangchansgirlsblog]

𝕃𝕦𝕟𝕒 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕟𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕨𝕠 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣

Warning: Angst/mention of death/Blood/MPreg/MxM

A/B/O dynamics:

Omega (Han, Felix, Y/n)

Beta (Hyunjin, Seungmin, I.N)

Alpha (Chan, Changbin, Leeknow)

The series might traumatize you. I really hope you guys like it and enjoy it.

Summary - Request; I've just been reading your A/B/O series and it's so so so good. I was wondering if you would accept an ot8 request where their omega gets in trouble with another pack and Straykids are really worried?

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

"Is Y/N okay? Please tell me she’s okay?" Chan’s voice was laced with panic as they finally stepped into the house. His eyes were bloodshot, and so were Changbin’s—both of them were fully in alpha mode.

His body ached, but he could already feel his powers working, healing him rapidly. One thing about alphas: they always heal in hours, no matter the damage.

"Can we at least get you settled before you start panicking?" Leeknow scoffed, his tone exasperated. "You’re acting like you’re not bleeding right now."

"Oh, hyung!" Felix gasped, hands covering his mouth in shock. He looked terrified. "What happened to you guys?" His omega was whimpering anxiously, and Felix’s hands shook as he tried to move closer, but Seungmin held him back.

"We’re fine, Lix. Just a little damage control," Changbin teased, waving it off.

"You guys can't keep doing this to me. I’m too pregnant to be stressed out every time you walk through that door!" Felix huffed, pouting in frustration.

"Come here, sweetie," Chan said softly, holding out his uninjured hand. Seungmin released his hold on Felix’s waist, and Felix waddled towards his pack alpha, the tension in his shoulders slowly melting away.

"You must have been so worried, hm?" Chan kissed the younger boy gently and began to scent him, his fingers gently brushing through Felix’s hair as Felix clung to him tightly, unwilling to let go.

"Yes, I was... I can’t lose you guys too," Felix sniffled, his voice trembling.

"I'm fine," Chan assured him, his voice steady. "I’m right here, and so is Changbin. We’re not going anywhere anytime soon." He kissed Felix’s forehead. "Go ahead and finish your dinner with I.N and Seungmin. We’ll be there soon, okay?" Chan noticed the food still on the table, realizing they had been in the middle of dinner.

"Are you sure you’re okay?" Felix asked again, his concern still clear.

"Positive," Chan replied with a reassuring smile. "You know me. I’ll heal in a few hours, and then I’ll tell you about my little adventure. I’ll come cuddle you tonight."

"Really?" Felix’s eyes widened, and his voice held a spark of excitement. Chan hadn’t been able to sleep with him the past week because of all the stress, so this meant a lot to Felix.

"Yeah, I promise," Chan said, his smile softening. "Now, go eat. We’ll join you soon."

Felix nodded, giving Chan a quick kiss on the cheek before waddling back to the dining room, rejoining the rest of the pack.

Leeknow sighed as he shifted his weight to help Chan, once again supporting him. "Let’s get you both cleaned up," he muttered.

"Binnie-hyung?" I.N’s voice called from across the room, his tone shy and hesitant.

"Yeah, I.N?" Changbin, who had been lounging on the couch, looked up at the younger boy. I.N was standing awkwardly, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"Can you sleep with me tonight?" I.N asked quietly, his face turning even redder. He fidgeted, clearly embarrassed by his own request.

"Of course, love," Changbin replied with a warm smile. "You can always sleep with me."

I.N's face lit up with a huge grin, and he giggled, practically skipping off to the dining room, clearly thrilled.

"I swear, those boys love you more than they love us sometimes," Hyunjin grumbled, rolling his eyes as he helped Changbin off the couch.

"Pack alpha always wins," Chan said with a teasing smirk, his eyes glowing faintly red, clearly enjoying the banter. The other boys groaned in unison and rolled their eyes.

When Leeknow got Chan into his room, he couldn’t resist flicking the older alpha lightly on the forehead, earning a small grunt from him.

"Ow!"

"You idiot," Leeknow scolded as he carefully helped Chan sit down on the bed. "No way you went and killed them without the rest of us. I thought you guys were just going to hunt."

"Leeknow, they saw us coming. Mark and the others were already in position. They wanted to finish it quickly, and I didn’t have a chance to react," Chan sighed but winced as Leeknow gently removed his clothes.

"Are the others injured, or was it just you?" Leeknow asked, his voice a mix of concern and frustration. He was trying to stay calm, but it was clear he was upset about Chan's reckless decision.

"No, everyone else is fine," Chan reassured him. "They’re coming over tomorrow for dinner to celebrate."

Leeknow sighed, nodding. "Well, I’ll need to go hunting for some meat then," he said, focusing on wrapping Chan's wounds.

"H-how’s Y/N?" Chan asked, his face twisted in pain as he winced again. His thoughts were clearly on his luna, and Leeknow could see it in his eyes.

"She’s doing okay," Leeknow replied, his expression softening. "She let Han in today, but..." he hesitated. "She’s still not letting anyone into the bond. She’s rejecting even Hyunjin."

Chan’s expression dropped. "Yeah, I figured. My bite mark still feels like it’s burning," he said with a defeated sigh.

"She’ll come around, Hyung," Leeknow said gently, pausing to adjust the bandage on Chan's arm. "Time will heal things. You did what you needed to. Now we just need to give her space to heal, too."

"What am I supposed to do, Leeknow?" Chan asked, looking up at him, his eyes filled with frustration and self-doubt. "I handled the rogues, but I can’t fix what they did to her. I can’t make it right. It feels like she’s still hurting, and I don’t know how to help her. I thought I’d feel better, but it’s like I’m suffocating… and I can’t fix it..." His voice trailed off, heavy with the weight of his words.

Leeknow paused, seeing the pain in Chan's eyes. Without saying a word, he leaned in and placed a firm, comforting kiss to his forehead.

"Hyung, you really need to stop blaming yourself, actually...we all need to stop blaming ourselves," Leeknow said, his voice full of quiet conviction. "You’ve done what you needed to. Time will heal everything, but you can’t do it all. You took care of the rogues, but now we need to give her the space to heal. We can’t keep dwelling on the past. Felix needs you, and so does she."

Chan let out a long breath, feeling the tension slowly drain from his body, but his worry for Y/N was still there. "I’m trying to be there for them both," he murmured. "Everyone expects me to hold it together, and I just don’t know how."

"Chan," Leeknow sighed, rolling his eyes at the older alpha’s stubbornness. "You’ve got a thick head, don’t you?" He chuckled softly. "You can’t fix everything right now. Time will take care of things. Let’s focus on the positives. Y/N is back home, Felix is healthy. We have that."

"Yeah," Chan agreed, finally giving in to Leeknow’s words. "You’re right."

"I know I am," Leeknow said with a grin. "Now, go take a shower, you’re a mess. And while you’re at it, tell me everything about your little killing hunt later."

Chan couldn’t help but smile at Leeknow’s playful tone, feeling a bit lighter. "Alright, alright," he chuckled. "I’ll go clean up, but you better not skip dinner, go eat."

"oh please! how can i eat with you rascals running around." chan stuck his tongue out as he slowly limped into the bathroom.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

When Hyunjin finally helped Changbin get dressed in pajamas after a shower (the alpha didn’t really need help, he just wanted Hyunjin’s attention), they both made their way downstairs into the dining hall, where everyone was already sitting, including Minho and Chan.

"What took you guys so long?" Seungmin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"SOMEONE," Hyunjin rolled his eyes and pointed at Changbin, "Wanted me to help him shower and get dressed," he huffed as he took his seat.

"Okay, first of all," Changbin gasped dramatically, holding his chest, "I just got back from a killing hunt. Can’t I ask for a little love and attention from my wife?" He playfully nuzzled his nose into Hyunjin’s neck, earning a surprised moan from him.

"Hyung!" Hyunjin smacked his chest lightly before rubbing his sensitive gland, his face flushed.

"Oh, you two definitely fucked," Seungmin snickered, and the room erupted into laughter.

"We did not!" Hyunjin screeched in embarrassment, his face turning bright red.

"We did too!" Changbin teased, poking Hyunjin’s stomach.

"Ugh, why are you always so...horny?" Hyunjin rolled his eyes, clearly exasperated, though a small smile tugged at his lips. The room was now thick with alpha scent, mixing with the betas' as the tension shifted.

"I'm the one who's horny?" Changbin shot back, but before they could continue, a small voice interrupted.

"Hyung? You’re back?" Han’s voice was soft, his nervousness clear as he stood in the doorway. Chan’s eyes flickered red as he recognized the familiar sweet scent of mangoes and peaches. His omega had arrived.

"Hey, baby," Chan stood immediately, his concern clear as he walked toward Han, who looked hesitant to enter the room.

"Yes, I’m back, my love. Are you okay?" Chan pulled Han into a gentle hug, sensing the exhaustion and sadness hanging around him. Han’s posture was tense, and Chan could feel the weight of the day on him.

"I’m... fine," Han whispered, though his voice trembled slightly. "Just tired."

"Hyunjin..." Han glanced over at him. "Can you—"

"Of course," Hyunjin said, standing up to make a plate of food for Y/N. "I’ll bring it up, don’t worry."

Han gave him a soft smile of gratitude as Hyunjin left the room, carefully carrying the food upstairs.

"She’s asleep, so she’ll be up in a bit for her medicine," Han sighed. He felt Chan's eyes studying him, the weight of his gaze making him uneasy. He couldn’t bring himself to meet Chan’s eyes.

"Do you want to talk, my love?" Chan’s voice was tender, but there was concern behind it.

"Not right now, hyung," Han answered softly. "I just need to eat. I’m tired, and I don’t want to talk."

"Did something happen?" Chan pressed, his voice thick with worry. He couldn’t ignore the way Han had been blocking everyone out, even from the bond.

"No, Chan, it’s just..." Han’s voice broke, his lip trembling. "It’s just... being in that room with her. She’s not getting any better."

"Don’t say that," Felix said, his voice tight as he stood up. "Maybe if I go see her, it’ll help. Maybe I can do something."

"No, Felix," Leeknow’s voice was firm, his tone shifting to something serious.

"Why can’t I go see her?" Felix’s voice was laced with confusion. "Why are you all keeping something from me? Does she not want me there?" His eyebrows furrowed in suspicion.

Leeknow sighed, his gaze shifting away as he answered through the bond talking to only chan so no one else could hear. She doesn’t want him there because of... his situation. Don’t tell him, Chan.

Chan’s expression hardened, but he nodded in understanding. I won’t.

Felix’s frustration was building. "I can see you guys talking through the bond! Why are you hiding something from me? Does she not want to see me?" His voice cracked with hurt.

"I already said no, Felix," Leeknow said, his tone sharper now.

Felix’s eyes watered as he stood there, looking between them. "What are you not telling me, hyung? I can feel you lying through the bond. Just tell me the truth!"

Leeknow exhaled sharply, frustration evident. He stormed out of the room without another word.

"Leeknow, wait!" Felix called, immediately getting up to follow. As he passed Chan and Han, Han reached out and grabbed his hand.

"Just... let him cool off," Han said quietly. "I’ll explain everything. But i need to eat first."

Felix’s eyes softened as he looked at Han. "She doesn’t want to see me, does she?" His voice was breaking now, tears welling up in his eyes. "I knew it."

Before Han could answer, Felix yanked his hand away and quickly turned toward the door.

"Felix, wait!" Chan cursed under his breath before running after the omega.

Seungmin, who had been watching the entire exchange, sighed dramatically. "Well, screw this," he muttered, getting up and heading to the fridge. "I need a drink to deal with all of this."

"Pour me one too," Changbin added, slumping down in his chair. "I can’t keep up with this pack anymore."

Han let out a long sigh, sitting down at the table and serving himself some food. "Tell me about it," he muttered before pouring himself a glass of soju.

"I heard she’s talking again," I.N asked, also helping himself to a drink. "At least that’s a good sign, right?"

"Yeah, we’ve had some conversations," Han replied, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "But mostly... she just cried. About... everything."

"The pup?" I.N asked softly, glancing at Han with concern.

"Yeah," Han said, looking away. "It’s so draining, I thought I could handle it, but being in that room... it’s like I’m sinking."

Seungmin nodded sympathetically. "I get it. When they brought her in, I could barely look at her. I thought I was going to break down too."

"At least she’ll talk to you guys," Changbin said with a groan, his shoulders slumping. "She won’t even let us near her. I can’t wait for all of this to be over."

"Same," I.N, Seungmin, and Han all agreed in unison.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A/N: can these guys actually stop stressing felix tf out

Taglist: @ihrtlix@bowsnbang@katsukis1wife@thegingerthatwaited@thicccurls

@xxeiraxx @paleangelsweets @klaydohart @eastleighsblog @ivrespace

@galaxy4489 @purplepursepaint @catlove83 @sillystormsstuff @iwuberic

@cocofia143 @royal-shinigami @virluna148 @galaxycatdrawz @memersanonymous

@skz-stay13 @seungminsbest @hogwartslife64 @sinfulfic @hyunnesblog

@maisyyyyyy @cluelessred3 @leezanetheofficial @cocofia143 @lemonn015

@kkamismom12 @mei0packet @igetcarriedawaywithyou @hyuneyeon @iris-iiridescent

@mbioooo0000 @newbbystay @hanniemylovelyquokka @jc003 @kokinu09

@aalexyuuuhm @kenaicantcommunicate @fiestaplum-skz @silentreadersthings

[tsw1234]

We Can't Be Friends (part 2)

Word Count: 1598

Pairings: Vampire Slayer!reader x Vampire!Dick Grayson

Synopsis: It's been months since the apocalypse. Discovering your newfound powers as a vampire slayer hasn't been easy, and with these newfound powers came new responsibilities like protecting the remaining civilians in Gotham from the creatures of the night, killing vampires alongside your courageous friends, etc...Yet there's just one thing blocking you from fulfilling your destiny, the very vampire you've been sworn to kill.

Notes: (Quickly) Proof read by me

Warnings: Smut, Angst

You knew this was wrong. You absolutely should not be doing this. Lord knows if you were to be caught, not only would it end badly for you but also your friends, your commune, and your little brother. Yet, it's as if something is compelling you to do this. You walk through the abandoned park en garde. Most sane people would show up with some sort of protection--like a stake or rosemary. But you're not sane, and the things that you've done as a result of armageddon wouldn't classify you as sane either. 

Despite Gotham's ongoing events, its park seemed to be the one of few places unaffected by the apocalypse. The grass and tree leaves were coated white, due to December's icy precipitation. Following down the park's path of lights illuminating the snow-covered vegetation you arrive at your destination--- a bridge that provides a beautiful view of the park's scenery and its pond directly below you. It was truly spectacular. Nostalgia of kids and parents and images of Haley dogs running around resurface.

"I know you’re here Grayson?". You felt his presence when you entered the park, perks of being a vampire hunter. You know when they’re nearby. As soon as those words escaped your lips, he appeared in front of you; almost as if you summoned him, like a genie to its master.

“Hello to you too [nickname],” he says, sliding next to you. While you don’t turn to face him you can feel his eyes on you.

"I feel you staring at me."

"I prefer to call it admiring, princess," he states with a smug smirk on his face. You rolled your eyes at his smart remark.

"You lost your right to admire the moment you sent your brainless minions to wipe out most of humanity.". 

"You broke up with me."

"So that gives you the right to kill people?"

"No, but it makes us even."

"Wrong again, you killed the man I loved. That ups the score 2-1, me." you challenge. The contrast between the two of you is vast--the deadpan on your face compared to the amused look on his. One could interpret the both of you to be having two separate conversations just based on facial expressions alone. "And who might that person be?" he asks cockily.

Silence fills the air. Your immediate reaction is to say him but, he's not the same man you loved--looks wise yes, but personality...? 

"Why'd you do it...kill Bruce?". Dick's demeanor changes instantly, his body more tense; The once smug look on his face is replaced with a stoic expression. 

"That's not your business."

"It is my business. They mattered to me--You matter-"

"You lost that right when you broke up with me.". Silence once again. 

"Jason..."

"Alfred..."

"Damian-"

"Damnit [Name] I told you to leave it alone. Stop poking your nose in places it doesn't belong." he stern. The cold air details the exasperation in your conversation. The quietness between you felt odd, you don't never liked fighting with Dick. It was unnatural between you too and it seldom happened. But, when it did, it would get ugly. You were both passionate people and when your thoughts would rarely clash, it would take time for the person in the wrong to step forward and apologize. 

"Do you know I'm supposed to kill you?". His eyebrows perk up at the shock of your abruptness.

"It's a part of my destiny or something..." you say as you cast a stone across the park's pond. Silence again. 

"Why are you here [nickname]?"

"..."

"I mean you hate me. You hate what I am, what I've done--yet every time you ask to see me. Why?"

"I don't know..." you mumble. "What?" 

"I don't know!" you shout letting out a voice crack. 

"I don't know why I called! Maybe it's because I miss you...". To say that out loud hurt your soul. Of course, you've known that you had but to say it helped you come to terms with your emotions. 

"Everywhere I go, I have memories of you--of us. You are a constant reminder of the life that I had because you were my life I know that I broke up with you and it haunts me every day but...you were one of the few constants in my life and I just feel like the day I stop agreeing to see you is one less piece of my old life.". You break down, all the many months of pent-up emotions gone just like that to the blue-eyed monster whom you loved.

"Come here..." he says, pulling you in an embrace. There you are, the very own vampire slayer destined to end the war on humanity allowing the wager of the war to console you. Here he is comforting your sniffles and cries, knowing that in the end, you have to kill him. How tragic. 

"[Nickname], everything I do is for you or because of you. Whether or not you believe it. Why did I do it--kill all those people? I wanted to find a way to be with you forever and in the process, I had to sacrifice people I loved. You are what's keeping me sane, what's holding me back from killing the rest of humanity. It's you, princess."

You look up at Dick with your tear-filled puffy eyes. He rests his palm against your face, wiping away any tears that had trickled down your face. "I miss you too, like hell and I hate that you're going through this because of--"

You cut him off with a kiss. A much overdue one to say. Although caught off guard, Dick accepts it swiftly. Immediately his hand hugged your waist and ran up and down your back. Your fingers find their way to his hair, intricately running through them. The kiss between the two of you felt like a fever dream. It felt as if it was the last day on Earth and the both of you needed to kiss to survive. It was passionate, warm, and embracing. 

He starts to move down your neck, peppering kisses as he goes and making sure to linger on your sweet spots causing you to release a soft moan. "Just as I remember huh?" he says in between each kiss. 

"May I?" he asks, toying with the waistband of your panties. You feverishly nod, allowing him to help discard your clothes. After unclasping your bra, the icy winter air hits your nipples causing them to harden. 

"You're just as perfect as ever, my pretty girl," he says as he dips two fingers inside of you. You try to suppress your moans but he's quick to break your resolve as his fingers hit a spot that hasn't been touched since the last time you've seen him. He speeds up his pace, being aware not to go too fast, yet too slow. "Fuck, Dick" you whine. The combination of the weather plus his touch helps you reach your orgasm fast. 

"That's right princess, come on my fingers," he says as you let go. He sucks off the remnants of your release and proceeds to take off his pants. He lifts you and you wrap your legs around him. He rubs his tip up and down your entrance before putting it in slowly. You release a loud moan holding on to him--nails digging into his back. He starts steady and then goes faster resulting in you letting out several curses and shrewd moans. You both reach your climax in sync, letting go together. Too disoriented to move, he cleans you up and helps you put your clothes back on. Once you're both clothed, he pulls you into his arms--once more-- kissing your head and whispering sweet nothings. You both stay like that for a while, basking in the moment of bliss.

"[Name]" you hear a voice say bringing you back to reality. Dick is still holding onto your waist. But, instead of pushing him away, you secure his hold on you whilst looking into his blue eyes. You turn around to see your best friend, out of breath, bruised, and upset. You momentarily pushed whatever feelings for Dick you had aside and rushed to their aid.

"What happened?" you asked, helping them catch their breath. They said nothing but your sense kicked in, telling you something was wrong and for some reason, it gave you an inkling that Dick had something to do with it. 

"They found us...and they have T.J.". they say, eyes focused on Dick. Your eyes shoot to your ex (lover?) in disbelief. He knows where your brother is, he has to! They're his men. 

"How could you!" you yell, voice full of pain. You march over to where he stood, his face filled with confusion and guilt. "How could you let them take him? After everything that just happened!" you shout as you shove him. 

"Where is he?"

No response. Another shove. 

"Answer me! Where is he!". Silence once again. "I don't know," he replies full of melancholy. "You're lying. Tell me!" you urge. 

"I don't know [nickname]," he whispers. Dick is feeling a whirlwind of emotions. The biggest one is hurt. He can't believe that you would believe that he would do this to you. After everything he had just said and done? He's going to find which one of his men did this and they're going to face the consequences. You shove him one final time before running over to your friend. 

"Come on, we're going to find them and my brother," you say, shooting him a wicked glare, leaving Dick in a state of sadness, guilt, and anger. 

[akirathedramaqueen]

CBT and Exposure Therapy: Blitzø Showcase

An important (really, don't skip) disclaimer

If you are contemplating whether or not you would benefit from any kind of therapy, consider consulting with your medical provider first. While I did my best to validate all the points made using publicly available resources, I am not a medical professional. At the very least, I strongly advise that you do your own research and not take some amateur's opinion about a character from a silly demon show for granted.

"Everyone in this show needs fucking therapy STAT!"

We hear fans screaming into the void every now and then. Me too. I plead guilty and I willingly put myself in custody. But I am not taking these words back.

Especially often it is being said with Blitzø in mind, who, as hinted earlier and clearly shown in the latest episode, Ghostfuckers, is not doing okay. Not in the slightest.

Which is . . . yes. Indeed, trauma-ridden Blitzø is a major problem for both him and those around him. Yes, we see him reaching his lowest point now exactly because he left these gaping wounds untreated for so long.

But the tricky question is—how, though? What to do? Will a good talking to a confidante help? Or, maybe, some kind of shock would snap him out of the spiral?

I've been pondering on this topic for more than 4 months, and, as the Ghostfuckers came out, I finally got all the data I need to prove a point. The show did all the job for me and effectively made Blitzø go through improvised versions of two popular therapy techniques. And, before I even start, I want to say—I am so glad with what we ended up with. What they did, and, more importantly, didn't do, aligns well with how it would likely happen in real life.

So buckle up, and let's see where it gets us!

Therapy # 1. Cognitive-behavioral therapy, or CBT

This is, in essence and with some corrections, your good old talking. Here you can find more information about it, so, if you're not familiar with the topic, I recommend following the link first.

But, very shortly: CBT is an extremely common approach to be tried while you're dealing with anxiety, depression, and a number of other mental disorders. What it aims to do is to help you get past unhelpful thinking (distortions) and learn not to act on it.

Looks like it fits the bill, right? Blitzø has a lot of issues with self-fulfilling prophecies, infuriatingly stupid assumptions, poorly thought-out actions . . .

But he's not like, you know . . . w-we're not, like . . . we're not doing a . . . w-we . . . what's betw— It's a transactional fucking, you see.

If you don't feel like coming, that's OK! I'm sure I can do without it for one month. :)

Stolas only cares about having a rugged peasant raw-dog him into his matress! It's nothing, ya know . . . it's nothing else.

You . . . no longer have any obligation to see me, to touch me, to bed me . . . You are— you are free of me.

He sees things which aren't truly there.

It's not Stolas giving him space after the disaster in the 'Ozzie's.' It must be Stolas not needing him anymore, getting tired of him.

It's not Stolas caring about Blitzø. He is a royal, why would he care how an imp's day he happened to be fucking was?

It's not Stolas setting Blitzø free and putting an end to a problematic transaction they had with the hope for it to grow into something more. It's him getting rid of Blitzø.

As a result, he ends up hurting himself and the relationship he had with that one sad gay bird he happened to fall deeply for but literally trashed in his own house twice, acting on nothing more than frenetic fear of losing Stolas, but in reality, driving him away even more . . . for good.

I mean, you royal fucks think you can do this every time, like you can just play with our feelings because we're smaller and not as important!

Ha! I'm right, aren't I? You get off getting plowed by people you look down on!

And I can sorry more people, everyone but you! 'Cause I don't owe you dick! Everyone, but you . . .

So, the case's closed? Let someone—say, Millie—talk to him and tell him how wrong he was about himself and the others?

Well, here's the thing. Despite him being infinitely wrong about Stolas's intentions, we can't deny the fact that every one of his beliefs was not, in fact, a distortion. It'd led him to wrong conclusions, yes, but it was built on the information he received and legitimate experiences he had in his life. Here are only some of the facts connected to only this situation with Stolas, but there are other problematic behaviors and other reasons for him acting the way he does.

Fact # 1. The circus fire did happen, and Blitzø was the reason for it. Unintentional, and of course it wasn't his fault, but it still ruined the lives of many people—him included. Blitzø cannot act like it never occurred.

Fact # 2. Hell is divided by class and race. Their situationship with the grimoire was an embodiment of that inequality. A lot of Blitzø's outburst during the Full Moon and later in the Apology Tour was connected to it, to his beliefs that Stolas is the same as the rest of the privileged circle. Beliefs, I stress, justified by the real world. Stolas is more of an exception, and even then, his behavior is only different when it comes to Blitzø. He still acts the same toward other imps.

Fact # 3. We knew about Stolas's intentions all along, but before that fateful Full Moon, what Blitzø saw was Stolas avoiding him and not communicating the issue the Ozzie's date had raised. And before Ozzie's? Stolas did act entitled and inappropriate. He was baby-talking to Blitzø and used derogatory terms while addressing him. The dude literally called him an impish plaything in the Truth Seekers.

Fact # 4. Blitzø's heavily implied (though not officially confirmed by the show) existing conditions—ADHD*, BPD**, PTSD, and dyslexia/dyscalculia***—do affect his life, and while Hell seems to be somewhat receptive of neurodivergence, he still has to deal with it every single fucking day. He is going to be avoidant and afraid to be abandoned at the same time. He is going to hate himself. His learning disabilities are going to make his life harder. No way around it.

Note: *, **, and *** contain links to separate meta-analyses from @timkontheunsure and @tealvenetianmask about the respective conditions and how they show themselves in Blitzø's case.

And my beef with CBT here is exactly that. CBT's goal is to gaslight you into believing your distortions hold no water and suggests you just ignore them. And, as I've shown with Blitzø, these reactions and assumptions aren't baseless. They are legitimate, and, in fact, sometimes help to get by. Even though it's a crooked crutch, you can't learn to walk properly by just throwing that crutch away. You're still going to limp, and oh, will it be painful.

This is oversimplistic and dismissive. Anxiety and depression don't come out of the blue, and with mental disabilities, it's even deeper. The class/disability stigma is alive and strong, and just slapping a "you're fine" bandaid on your traumatized self isn't going to help.

Therapy # 2. Exposure therapy.

Exposure therapy is another approach commonly used while dealing with traumatic past and its aftermath—PTSD, anxiety, phobias, and such. Again, if you're not familiar, there's the link for you, but very shortly—the therapist puts the patient in a safe environment and 'exposes' them to the feared object in question for limited periods of time. The goal is to eventually get rid of the targeted fear and decrease avoidance.

And Blitzø has got some phobias for sure.

The fear of letting everyone down. Again.

And the fear of abandonment. Again.

All of it is a result of self-hatred, sitting so deeply it rules his life and his vision of how others perceive him. Said it himself. Almost.

So, where and how does the show expose Blitzø to his traumatic past?

First, the most recent, and the most obvious one—Rolando and his slideshow of all traumatic events Blitzø ever had in his life.

Second—Blitzø's drug trip in the Truth Seekers. While it does not contain the events of the past as they were, it does force him to face his fears.

Are you worried I might have enough of it one day as well? . . . You're going to die alone! . . . You're going to die alone, Blitzo!

With some stretch, the third one is Verosika's 'Blitzo sucks' party. Where Blitzø was forced to see the consequences of his avoidance and rejection.

Note: to be clear, I do think the party does not show the true extent of Blitzø's actions and how much he'd hurt people. It was exaggerated by Verosika, and here I explain why this is the case.

So, what gives? Or, rather, what gives it not?

It might sound funny now, considering I brought it up myself, but I, once again, say this is not therapeutic, just as CBT kind of 'talking.' If anything, all these three events did more harm than good.

The D.H.O.R.K.S.'s goal in the Truth Seekers was to torture the information out of Blitzø. He was not supposed to overcome it. He was supposed to crack.

The Verosika's goal was to ruin Blitzø's reputation. She was working her ass off to prove he's just a heartless freak.

The Rolando's goal was to fucking kill Blitzø.

And okay, their motivations had nothing to do with helping him, but maybe it did, in its own twisted way?

No. The writers added this to push Blitzø past the breaking point, not to heal him, and to show us more of his lore. Each time he was forced to face his past or fears or consequences, he was only spiraling more.

The only thing which did him some good was . . . well, Millie finally seeing his bravado mask falling off. But the cost of it was way too high. Not worth it.

To the therapy's defense, some points why it would never work in the way it was done in the show:

Blitzø had never given his consent and was not ready to face it. I might be very rude right now, but go and try producing some explosion-like sounds in front of war veterans without letting them know first and see what happens.

The amount of fearful experience exposed was way too overboard. He couldn't possibly digest it in a healthy way.

The environment was not safe. It was straight-up retraumatizing, an intentional one.

So there's that.

But what helped then?

We've briefly brushed over the fact Millie did talk to Blitzø. While I did imply this might be an example of CBT, here are some key deviations from the classic therapy which made all the difference.

Millie didn't sugarcoat all the shit Blitzø did. He was hurting their business. He didn't pay her. He was reduced to Bethanie. It showed her opinion can be trusted.

Millie apologized for not being there for him sooner. She admitted she relied too much on Blitzø being bulletproof, unbothered by everything. She admitted she didn't support him in a way he always did.

While proving she could never hate Blitzø, she used their common story, one he knows and can recall. She used evidence to prove him wrong, not a "it's all in your head" bandaid. And more than that, later she proved it with action—not for one second did she believe Rolando and his shittalk about what Blitzø supposedly was thinking about her. Her unwavering faith spoke more than any words ever could.

Getting back to exposure therapy . . . Metaphorically, she reminded Blitzø he can handle a beating or two. And physically beat the infestor demon out of him, which, as we can see later, didn't really affect Blitzø that much. He wasn't even battered. So, apparently, when the said exposure is done by someone who genuinely tries to make you feel better and knows your limits well, it might just work?

And finally, Millie acknowledged Blitzø's pain. She didn't brush it away. She validated him.

What all of this is about?

Like every treatment, too much of a medicine can become poisonous. So are CBT and exposure therapy.

They might help, and lots of research shows they do in certain cases. But there are limitations to what they can and cannot achieve, and they have to be adjusted to each individual story, to each trauma, and they should not be applied as a way to mend the outcome of the trauma without taking into account the story it comes with. Again, legitimate concerns and experiences cannot be brushed away or ignored.

Actualy . . . we've seen where it leads in the show too. In the beginning, Millie was quite dismissive of Blitzø's worries—all of this over a . . . breakup?

And here it comes full circle.

Only when Millie started taking Blitzø seriously, did it help them progress. And look how quickly we've switched from a complete despair to a glimmer of hope! Isn't that a beautiful closing scene?

As a closing note—we do not need to 'fix' Blitzø. After all this shit he went through, there won't be a day where he wakes up and be like, "Hey, I don't hate myself anymore! And look, I'm not afraid to be abandoned or misunderstood!"

I'm sorry to break it to you, but this is a lifelong battle. Being mentally whole, healthy, and constantly happy is no more than a myth, and everyone has their own demons and skeletons to deal with.

What Blitzø needs is some good support system to pull him back when he's down.

And boy, do I hope that one particular owl will fill in that role of unyielding pillar for Blitzø each time our lizard will fall into that pit again. Look, I love Millie, but there's only so much she can do. She can't be always present, she has her own life . . . and her own disaster of a husband to look after (affectionate <3). Here and here @lost-romantique talks about Stolas's capacity of loving, with me occasionally nodding, ha-ha. But to be short—it's fucking immense. And since he loves words, I do believe he has all the energy to tell again and again and again how awesome Blitzø is. Even if Blitzø wouldn't believe it himself.

[austenpoppy]

Guys, I love both Dickory and Dickbabs. Everybody hates Annual 2 because, 1) it spits on Dick's character, 2) it spits at us in the face, 3) it makes a mockery of all ships, 4) the timing doesn't make any freaking sense. If you read New Titans, there is just no way Dick would or could have cheated in that moment in time, not after what happened with Mirage, when he was blaming himself for being raped and not recognizing Mirage was posing as Kory, when he was holding on to his relationship with Kory so tightly as his last source of happiness after losing Joey, Raven, Danny, Arabella, Vic in many ways, and there was also something going on with Clark (was he believed dead ?).

But let's not stump on poor Dick during that time in New Titans. Please. Let's not make up things that weren't there. And let me convince you there was no domestic abuse involved.

The images I put below are, at least the way I interpreted them, a dream sequence imagined by Kory in her sleep, which we know because right after, before the scene itself ends, there's an image of Kory waking up in her bed in the middle of the night due to Dick's incessant ringing. Plus, the very tone of that sequence seems off, exaggerated - like a dream would be.

New Titans #99

And if you're wondering about Dick's tattered costume when he comes in Kory's flat, let's just say the art is inconsistent - Dick had, as you can see, no visible hole in his costume after Kory blasted him if that sequence were real, so I don't see why we should consider this a real scene on that basis alone.

As for the random strangers, they're...not random strangers ? The guy Dick punches in the face is a paparazzi who was photographing him along with other paparazzi right after Kory broke up with him, and were harassing him and taunting him/making fun of him - they heard Dick shouting after Kory.

New Titans #97

Yeah, if you look at it I guess it's still assault under US law, but frankly you'd have to be a saint not to punch one of those slimy buggers in the face after everything that went down. Also, Dick doesn't seem to like paparazzi much - years later, he was less than pleasant to the people harassing Alfred in the Vesper Fairchild murder.

Part of the Bruce Wayne: murderer ? story arc

Do I hate that Kory broke up with Dick that way and blamed him for what went on with Mirage ? Heck yeah. Do I hate that Dick proposed to Kory as a last resort not to lose her ? Also yes. But I wouldn't say those issues were worse than Annual 2. It goes downhill after (you can guess I'm still fuming about many things that went on after that wedding, including but not limited to Kory's character progression being erased, and Dick shouldering the entire blame of their relationship's end and thinking he was too "self-absorbed" in the whole Mirage episode).

Thinking about shipping problematic pairs from last night…

Something that really annoys me is how everyone goes off on Nightwing Annual 2, but mention Dick and Kory’s wedding as a shitstorm of epic proportions, and you get crickets.

I own Nightwing Annual 2. In print. I paid above the cover price for it. (And I read comics digitally. I don’t own single issues in print much at all - couldn’t even fill a short box with my collection. Trades, yes, issues no.) Yes, it is heinously out of character for Dick to have cheated on Kory with Babs, no question. And the scene when Babs comes to the door to see Dick and is lied to by Kory, and leaves in tears and then Kory lies to Dick about it? Also very out of character for both of those women. Both of those moments are really serious missteps of writing, that is for sure.

Aside from those two parts, which I pretty much skip over when I read it anyway, I really like the book. Joe Bennett and Jack Jadson’s art is beautiful. It always is, but Bennett’s Babs is extra stunning and an A+ to them for remembering how tall Kory is. (Their run on Birds of Prey is also my favorite art on that book.) In terms of story, I love the rest of the memories Dick and Babs recount - getting locked in the safe together, Babs POV of when Dick tried to tell her how he felt about her, and the ending is heartbreaking and beautiful.

But, I mean, really. To like this book publicly is to rain down a storm of fandom haterade on yourself. Which, to be honest, fine. That kind of thing doesn’t really bother me in and of itself. It’s just the hypocrisy of it all. New Teen Titans 97-101 is at least as bad - worse, IMO - in terms of characterization for Dick and Kory and no one ever says boo about it. Dick hits total random strangers because fighting with Kory makes him angry. He gets physical with her, and she blasts him with starbolts. Straight up domestic violence. And still, crickets! I have a 13-page NOVEL about how many problems I have with the way DickKory has been written, at least half of which revolves around that engagement/wedding… (a lot of which is really angry and I hesitate to publish but had to write out for myself.)

But why? Is it because - other than TT!RobStar - there aren’t many real DickKory shippers left to either excuse or renounce it? Is it that DickBabs is an “actively sailing ship” and all of us shippers feel like we have to trip all over ourselves to make an exception of Nightwing Annual 2 so that people won’t hate our ship?

Like, what’s the deal here?

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

Thinking About Expanding...

One thing I learn from CF convention is the fact that people create their circle of friends mainly from Twitter, because they said in Twt it's very easy to get mutuals and friends, easy to connect, and basically every person use it to an extent - it's pretty much equal in Instagram in usage.

I've been thinking about expanding my connection beyond Tumblr and Instagram, because... why limit myself ? ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ

But there's this big gate of thinking that in Twt experience it could either be a good place or a hell hole and no in between. In Tumblr I feel safe because it's the home for fandom creations, and I rarely gets judged for what I create in here. But in Twt (and including TikTok in this case), those apps are very judgemental, and it's more open to expressing opinions, both positively and negatively.

Of course, the appropriate reaction to it is either "Don't care about the bad opinions too much!" or "Don't be afraid to post your stuff there!" or "Just block em!"

And yes of course, I've had my fair share of hate messages and death threats (which means nothing to me), and I think I've already heard every insult that has possibly ever created. But again, It makes me feel uneasy (๑﹏๑//). I mean, it already happens, and again, I've had my fair share of those things, but in Twt I think it'll be like opening an even bigger Pandora's Box as it is a very big audience.

Maybe I'm thinking too much of it, maybe it'll happen, maybe it won't. Maybe I'll gain more exposure and more friends, maybe I'll get more negative comments.

Maybe I should just take a leap of faith and get straight on with it.

Anyway, I'm just expressing my thoughts ever since the CF convention! I just feel like it's such a big, BIG gate for me to cross.

Thank you for reading though! Have a nice day *(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭*ଘ

[fanficsbysteve]

The Best for the Both of Them

This will be my first foray into writing fanfiction in a long long time so please be kind. Constructive Criticism is always welcome. Hate Mail is not. I also haven't used Tumblr in awhile so if anyone has any suggestions on how I can make my posts better or easier for you all to read, please let me know.

Rated: PG? WC: 4863

___________________________________________________________

 “I’ll see you around Buck”, Tommy stood for a second before he walked to the door and out of Evan’s loft. His mind was reeling from what he just did. Evan had been the best thing to ever happen to him, and he had just ended it. Did he do the right thing? He kept walking eventually coming to his truck. He got in and looked up at the windows to Evan’s loft. He saw his now ex-boyfriend standing there looking out at him.

                “This is the best thing for both of us,” he told himself as he started the truck up and drove off towards his house, “It was never meant to last anyways. I’m his first not his last” he just kept telling himself that as a means of justifying it to himself. He felt tears start to well up in his eyes as he drove towards his house. He didn’t want to do that. Evan was the sweetest and most caring person he had ever known. But he couldn’t handle the heartbreak if he decided that Tommy wasn’t enough for him. Yes that was an incredibly Biphobic mentality to have, and he knew it, but your brain is never logical when it comes to your emotions and your potential for heartbreak.

                He pulled into his driveway and turned off his truck. Sitting in his truck he let the tears start to roll down his cheeks. Sobs racked his body as he just let out all the sadness that he was feeling over what he had done. He desperately wanted to take out his phone and call Evan and say he was sorry. Say he didn’t mean it. Beg him for forgiveness. But he knew he couldn’t do that. No this was how it had to be.

                After about 10 minutes of the ugliest crying, he had ever done in his life, he composed himself, got out of his truck and head inside his house. It was going to be a long night, and he knew it. This was the best for the both of them.

***

                Tommy took a couple days off work so he could just get all his crying out. His work best friend, Jessica, had come by a couple times during that time to check in on him and see how he was doing. She reported to him that he always looked like shit and that he needed to pull himself together. She really didn’t get it though did she. She had been with her husband for as long as he knew her.

                After the third day, Tommy again pulled himself together and compartmentalize all his emotions like he had grown accustomed to all those many years ago. Looking around his house he found so many things that reminded him of Evan. Some of his clothes that he had left behind after a night over, a toothbrush, some different knickknacks that he bought for Tommy to keep in his apartment to remind him. Sighing, Tommy picked up a box and started to place all of Evan’s items into it. He kept the pictures. And a hoodie. He may have broken up with Evan, but he didn’t want to forget about him completely. He was a big part of his life for the past 6 months. Everything else went into this box.

                He spent the better part of a day trying to decide the best way to get these items back to Evan. He didn’t feel ready to see Evan again so going to the loft to drop them off was probably not in the cards. Maybe Eddie or Chim could get them to him. Though not sure if that was going to be easy either. They were both closer to Evan than they were to him. Wouldn’t hurt to try anyways.

                Tommy took out his phone and shot a quick text message off to Eddie. He didn’t expect anything back right away, but little did he know, “You fucked up bud” was all he got back at first.

“Don’t you think I thought this through,” he responded back.

“Doesn’t mean you didn’t fuck up” Eddie wrote back.

“I have a bunch of Evan’s stuff that he left at my place that needs to get back to him,” Tommy wrote quickly, “And I don’t think either of us wants to see each other right now.”

“I spent the past 3 days with a very drunk Evan pining over you hard,” Eddie replied, “You have no idea how badly this is affecting him.”

“He doesn’t know how this is affecting me either,” Tommy sent back, “Can I leave his stuff with you, and you give it to him?”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Eddie wrote back, “But I think the two of you need to talk this out. Sometime before my liver gives out.”

                Tommy sighed and took the box to his Truck, meaning to head towards Eddie’s house. At least Eddie was still talking to him, which was a good sign. He hadn’t fucked things up with the entire 118 at least. He drove about an hour to get to Eddie’s house. Seeing Evan’s Jeep parked out front, Tommy drove right past the front of Eddie’s house and parked a ways up the street so that he wouldn’t be noticed. God, he needed to mature up, but he really didn’t want to see Evan right now. He had just gotten himself to stop crying and he knew that if he saw him it would start the tears up again.

                Tommy slowly walked up towards Eddie’s house, navigating like some weird stalker up the sidewalk and deposited the box outside the door to Eddie’s house. He snapped a quick picture of the box and Eddie’s door and hurried down the walkway, sending a picture of the box to Eddie with a quick message of “I can’t see him yet. The box is outside your door.”

                Tommy drove back to his place, hyperventilating a little bit over what could have happened. He needed to stay strong. This was the best for the both of them.

***

                It had been a month since he ended things with Evan. Work kept him busy so that was beneficial for him. He could throw himself into work and forget everything. He did tend to avoid using the mouth static because it reminded him of Evan. His captain was probably very appreciative of that.

                Tommy had taken to using Tinder to see if he could get someone to date again. He did miss the companionship that Evan gave. Someone to hold at night. Problem was that he was trying to pick a fish from the sea that was Gay LA. The amount of people that just wanted to have sex with him far outweighed the people looking for a nice date.

                He did find the rare gentlemen not looking for a quick fuck which was nice. Tommy wasn’t ready to dip his toes back into THAT market just yet. Besides if he wanted that he would have been on Grindr, not Tinder. Men were just horndogs no matter where they were.

                Tommy swiped right on a handsome man that he saw and got the “Match” signal, so he started messaging this person. He was 5’6, fit, brown hair, blue eyes, worked as a nurse at one of the local hospitals. Tommy decided to go on a date with this guy. Have a nice dinner and a movie. That was his typical first date. Had it been that before Evan and will continue to be that after. He just needed to figure out a restaurant.

                The night of the date came, and Tommy met this new guy at the restaurant. His name was Bryant, and he was closer to Tommy’s age than Evan had been. He wouldn’t admit it in person, but he felt a little bad when he and Evan were together since there was such a large age gap.

                Bryant had chosen a nice Vietnamese restaurant to meet up at, and Tommy would be picking the movie. They ordered their dishes after sitting and waited. Tommy looked around the room a bit, taking in his surroundings. It was a nice place, he thought, and then a thought he didn’t want to have came up ‘Evan would really like this. He likes to try all kinds of new food.’

                He had to stop himself. He was drifting off into thinking of Evan and that wouldn’t have ended well. Bryant was talking and Tommy hadn’t heard a thing he said in his revelry. God he was the worst person to go on a date with right now. His thoughts constantly running back to Evan like some kind of sick masochist. No, he wouldn’t let that man keep such a vice grip on his heart. This was the best of the both of them.

***

                It had been 6 months since he had broken up with Evan. He had managed to match with about 10 very nice gentlemen in that time, and failed to go on a second date with about 6 of them. Why was he so bad at this? It was never this bad with Evan. Not even remotely. They always got along and always had things to talk about.

                Sitting down at the coffee shop, a handsome Latin man sitting across from him, Tommy sipped at his drink while half listening to the man talking about his life. He was interested, really he was. He just couldn’t make his mind focus. It kept going back to thoughts of Evan.

                The bell above the door rang as someone came in again. They were sitting near to the door, so Tommy had a bird’s eye view of the people walking in. And what he saw made his heart clench in his chest. Walking in through that doorway was Evan. He was there with a very beautiful blonde woman. God, he looked amazing still. Hopefully he didn’t see Tommy.

                Quickly looking away, Tommy hoped against all hope that Evan didn’t notice him. He didn’t want to create a scene or end things badly on this date. His date seemed to notice as he asked what was going on?

                “Ex-boyfriend just walked in,” Tommy replied. His breathing had slightly deepened after Evan walked into the shop, so he suggested that they take their drinks and go for a walk.

                He couldn’t be in the same room with Evan. It was too hard to see him. He did look happy though. Walking out of the coffee shop, his date heading out before him, he glanced back hoping, while also not hoping, to catch a glimpse of Evan again. Looking right at him, his blue eyes trying to hide a sadness that he could match was Evan. God how he missed that man. He turned back around and left the coffee shop, not wanting to feel the pain that his heart was currently feeling. This was the best for the both of them.

***

                It had been three days since Tommy saw Evan at the coffee shop. Things had fizzled out again with the latest in a long line of dates he had gone on. Honestly, it was getting a little depressing for him. But he kept on trying. Maybe one day someone will click with him.

                His phone buzzed and he absently picked it up without looking to see who the message was from and opened it. His heart skipped a beat when he looked at it. It was from Evan and just said one word “Hey”.

                Tommy was freaking out a bit. He hadn’t expected this to happen. He had taken a break and wanted Evan to experience his life now. He would have done the same had he been the first for a gay man. It wasn’t fair to tie someone down into a relationship if they hadn’t fully experienced life to its fullest.

                “Hey,” Tommy replied back, “Saw you at the coffee shop a few days ago. You look good”

                Tommy stared at the screen at the Typing bubble showed up on his phone. It was agonizing waiting to hear back. One minute. Two minutes. Was he writing the next great American novel over there?

                “It was nice to see you as well,” was the reply. Eight words? It took him that long to write eight words? The typing bubble showed up again, “Can we meet up? I have some things I need to talk to you about.”

                Tommy stared at his phone. Could he do this? It had been 6 months. Surely things had settled between them enough that they could have a cordial meet up right? “I could do that. Do you know a place?”

                “Let’s get pizza for old times sake,” Evan replied. Tommy felt his heart beat a little harder in his chest, “You know the place. Did you want me to pick you up or meet you there?”

                Tommy stared at the phone. While he would have loved to go there together, he knew that he couldn’t. Not easily anyways. 6 months they had been apart but every thought in his mind was about Evan. He had never had a relationship with anyone, quite like the one he had with Evan. There was something about it, “I can meet you there. 8 pm? Know a day?”

                “Can we meet tonight?” Tommy’s heart fluttered in his chest. Did he dare accept?

                While his brain was overthinking every situation that could come of this, his heart took control of his hands and he typed back, “That can work. I’ll see you there.”

                “See you there,” was the reply. Tommy put his phone down and let out a breath that he didn’t realize he had been holding. This could go so many ways. Picking up his phone again and looking at the time, Tommy had about 3 hours to get ready. The Pizza place that Buck wanted to go to wasn’t too far from where Tommy lived. Maybe a 30 minute drive. It gave him time to look his best. They may be broken up, but Tommy definitely didn’t want Evan to see him look a mess.

                He went about getting ready and he felt his heart fill with joy a little bit. He also started to have second thoughts on the breakup. Was this the best for the both of them?

***

                Tommy walked up to the entrance to the restaurant at just before 8 pm. He was trying not to hyperventilate about what was about to happen. He stopped at the door and stood for a second, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down before he walked in.

                He could see Evan sitting at a table off to the right of the entrance. Tommy had a little bit of a chuckle. His brain was not thinking in perfect thoughts right now, but he just loved the idea of him picking a table slightly to the right of centre when the last happy conversation they had was about the Kinsey Scale and how Tommy was a solid 6.

                He walked over and sat in the chair across from Evan, “Hey” he said. It was his general greeting for everyone.

                “Hey,” Evan looked up to him, a light of what looked like happiness hiding in his eyes, “Thank you for coming”

                “I didn’t have anything planned for tonight,” Tommy smiled but his eyes just kept taking in this man sitting in front of him. God he was beautiful, “Your text caught me by surprise though. Can’t say I was expecting it, but it was a nice surprise.”

                “Yeah, well when I saw you at the coffee shop, I knew I had to reach out,” Evan smiled and looked down at his hands, “It just took me 3 days to send that first message. I kept psyching myself out and telling myself not to and that you hated me and that you didn’t want to hear from me”

                “I could never hate you Ev…Buck,” Tommy quickly changed the name he called him. He had been thinking of his as Evan for so long that he had forgotten that friends call him Buck, “I was the one who broke it off with you. If anything, you should be hating me.”

                Tommy saw Evan deflate a bit when he changed the name he called him. But what was he supposed to do? They were broken up. And as much as Tommy wished it, they weren’t going to get back together. Tommy had messed that up already with what he said when they broke up. The best he could hope for is salvage and become friends and just watch from the outside and be supportive while Evan found someone new.

                “I could never hate you either Tommy,” He whispered. He was still looking down. Tommy reached across the table and gently put a couple fingers underneath Evans chin and lifted his head so they could look each other in the eye. Tommy was a little shocked to see the barest hint of what could only be tears in Evans eyes.

                Tommy coughed quickly, “Anyways should we order something? I want to hear all about your life since the last time we saw each other.”

                Tommy picked up his menu and used it to hide his face a bit. The tears and look of sadness on Evan’s face was going to get to him if he didn’t compose himself. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

                They eventually ordered a pizza to share and some drinks, “So the woman I saw you at the coffee shop was very pretty. Did things go well?”

                Evan was a little taken aback by that statement, “You think she’s pretty? I thought you were a 6 on the Kinsey Scale?”

                “Just because I can notice when someone is attractive doesn’t mean that I want to immediately have sex with them,” Tommy chuckled. That broke the downer mood that had been soaking the two of them since the moment he sat down. Evan chuckled as well, “Society has its standards of beauty in men, women, and anyone in between. These are drilled into us from an early age. You ask a straight man who the most attractive man to them is, and I can almost guarantee you that they will give you one of the Chrises or one of the Ryan’s”

                Evan smiled at that, “Chrises and Ryan’s?” This man was clueless sometimes. Tommy smiled at him. This man could find a substack about some 200 year old cowboy but he knew nothing about the Kinsey Scale or the Chrises and Ryans.

                “Well first you have the easy ones, Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth, and Chris Pratt. They have all been in Marvel movies, so everyone knows about them. Then you toss in Chris Pine, and you have the Chrises. Chris Pine is the odd one out as he hasn’t been in Marvel, and he has what some people call an Odd Attractiveness. The other Chrises are conventionally attractive,” Tommy took a sip of his drink before he continued, “Then you have the Ryan’s. Ryan Reynolds and Ryan Gosling. Both very attractive men in their own rights and both very famous for various different reasons.”

                “I never thought of it that way,” Evan replied, “I always thought that just because you were straight or gay you didn’t really notice the other gender.”

                “Well, you have much to learn my Baby Bi,” Tommy chuckled, “You didn’t answer my question though. How did things go with the blonde at the coffee shop? Don’t think you can change the subject by claiming your naivety in things around the LGBT+ world.”

                Evan smiled and it melted Tommy’s heart, it was good to see him like this, “It went OK. We aren’t planning anything else though. Seeing you at the shop put me in a bit of a mood.”

                “I’m sorry about that,” Tommy replied, “She looked like she was your type. Well, I think. I don’t really know your type when it comes to women.”

                “I don’t really have a type when it comes to anyone really,” Evan explained, “I just find certain people attractive and decide then and there if I want to date them. She was pretty but not what I was looking for I guess.”

                “Well, that sucks,” Tommy replied, “I haven’t had much luck either. Nothing clicks I guess.”

                “Its hard to find something like what we had,” Evan replied. He sounded sad again. Tommy didn’t know how to make him happy again right now, so he just took a bite of his pizza on his plate.

                They ate in silence, Tommy sneaking glances at Evan, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He thinks he got caught at least once and quickly started looking off into the restaurant, trying to hide what he was doing. This was truly one of the most beautiful men he had ever seen. He was a fool for letting this go.

                After they finished their pizza, it was time for dessert. Evan ordered a tiramisu, and Tommy ordered his usual Spumoni. What could he say, it was his favorite. And when you know you like something, you always go back to it.

                While Tommy was thinking to himself, he caught sight of a spoon reaching across the table and taking a piece out of his dessert, “Hey!”

                Evan smiled as he placed the frozen dessert into his mouth. Tommy smiled a little. Picking up his spoon, Tommy reached across and took a scoop of Evans dessert. He got an indignant little squeak from Evan over that as he raised it to his mouth, “All’s fair in love and war Evan.”

                Tommy watched as Evan’s smile grew wider as he heard his name spoken out loud. Tommy didn’t realize that it was going to happen. He smiled a bit before taking the bite of Buck’s dessert.

                They back and forth stole each other’s desserts until there was nothing left on the plate, and they were giggling like two school boys who had seen something naughty, “I miss this,” Evan said with a sigh, “I miss you.”

                Tommy stopped giggling and looked directly at Evan. Had he heard what he thought he heard?

                “I miss seeing you come home after work, covered in soot. I miss standing in the kitchen cooking us dinner, you coming up behind me just to hold me. I miss waking up in your arms,” Evan continued, “I miss us.”

                “Evan,” Tommy tried to get him to stop. This was hurting him too much, but Evan lifted up a hand.

                “Let me finish,” Evan continued to talk, “We came here to talk about life so let me finish and then you can have your say,” He put his hand down and took a breath, “Over the past 6 months I admit that I did try dating new people. Men, women, I think I went out with a non-binary person once as well. And each and every one of those ended the same. Me alone in my loft. They always ended up the same because of one thing. They weren’t you. None of them were you. It took me a while to fully understand what happened between us.

                Tommy stared at Evan as he spoke. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes and he tried to stop them, but they just started to fall down his cheeks. He hadn’t wanted this. He just wanted to talk to Evan again. To be a part of his life again.

                “I realize now that I wanted the future with the idea I had of you. I wanted the idea I had of you move in with me in my Loft, which lets face it, was a ridiculous thing to say at the time,” Tommy noticed that Evan was essentially talking to his hands as they wrung a napkin in his hands, “And it took me talking to Maddie, Eddie, Josh, and basically everyone in the 118 to realize what I did to you. And to understand why you did what you did. You were scared. You were scared of being hurt and I understand that now. You didn’t want to be hurt so you hurt yourself and me in the process.”

                The tears were steadily going down Tommy’s cheeks at this point. He wasn’t a super emotional person. He worked in a life or death job. He saw people die all the time. He could compartmentalize everything. But right now, he was failing at that.

                “I tried to hate you at the start of it,” Evan still hadn’t looked up. Why wouldn’t he look at Tommy, “I tried really hard. But I couldn’t. You had just broken my heart, and I couldn’t hate you. It wasn’t until a month in when I was visiting Maddie at work, and the wise gay sage that is Josh was there and he gave me some words of wisdom, ‘You jumped ahead too far. You are currently seeing a future with who you think Tommy is. Not who Tommy actually is. And until you figure out which one you want to have a future with, you need to sit back and think about what it is you truly want. Do you want the idea of Tommy that you have? This unattainable statuesque Greek God of a man. Or do you want Tommy, the man who was engaged to a woman for 2 years, who had to survive the military at the height of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. Tommy who is scarred beyond what you can see. And when you decide which, it is that you want, well the universe will bring you what you need.’ And then he just made a dramatic exit from the room.”

                Tommy chuckled a little while the tears kept flowing. He kept looking towards Evan, “Now I know that it was you who broke things off with me, in a not very classy fashion by the way,” Evan finally looked up from the napkin he had basically shredded into tiny pieces during his speech, “But I wanted to see if maybe, you wanted to try again? Try being together? It took me awhile to realize that I wanted the Tommy with all the scars that I never got a chance to learn about. The visible and invisible ones. You don’t need to answer right away. I can give you time to think about it. But I know that it is you that I want. You that I need in my life. You that I see a future with.”

                Tommy stood up, his eyes blurry at this point, walked around the table towards Evan, leaned down, placed his hand gently on Evan’s chin, and kissed him with as much love and passion as he could muster. He didn’t want this to stop. He couldn’t let this stop. Of course he wanted Evan back.

                The kiss ended and they were both breathless. The noise of the restaurant hadn’t died down so hopefully nobody was staring at their very obvious display, “Should I take that as a yes?” Evan was breathless and Tommy was as well. He nodded his head vigorously.

                Evan’s smile became the widest that Tommy had ever seen. He didn’t know how to take that. Evan grabbed him and pulled him in close, nuzzling his head into the crook of Tommy’s neck, “We should probably pay the bill and go I guess,” Tommy said eventually, enjoying holding Evan again. It had been too long, and he missed the gentle breathing.

                Tommy reluctantly let Evan go so they could pay their bill and head out, “House or Loft?” Evan asked as they walked out the door.

                “Huh?” Tommy was confused.

                “House or loft? If you think I’m going to spend tonight alone, you have another thing coming. So will we spend the night at the house or loft?” Evan explained.

                Tommy smiled, realizing that this was all his again. This perfect man, with his substacks, his belief in curses and his random spirals into insanity. This was all his again. Walking towards his truck, Tommy smiled and said, “House,” before getting in, “Though we’ll need to stop by your loft to grab some items for you for the morning after.”

                Tommy watched as Evan smiled. That smile always made him melt. Before he had met Evan, he was reserved. He had slowly started to come out of his shell a bit. To be more of the man that Evan had seen he could be. He still had worked to do before he was that person. But with Evan by his side, maybe he could be that person. Maybe the idea of Tommy that Evan had in the past could be the Tommy he gets in the future. Only time would tell at least.

Sitting on the drivers side of his truck, Evan on the passengers side, Tommy shifted his truck into gear and backed out of his parking stall. He felt a hand over top of his on the gear shift and smiled. This. This was what was best for the both of them.

***

And that's the end of that. Thank you all for reading. I wrote this because S8xE06 really irked me so I wanted to fix it somehow. Let me know what you think.

[lemotmo]

Sounds like she got lots of asks complaining about this. She removed one post I sent you earlier for what she called an 'error' on her part, but responded to one of the other complaints. As I said they're so close but still so far 😂😂😂

Q. The show did us so dirty on the Tommy and Buck relationship front. I have spent the days following Thursday's episode rewatching their storyline and they actually had very few scenes that were just for and about them. Eddie was way too involved and it allowed their relationship to be overshadowed by his presence. They only had a handful of scenes that didn't directly involve Eddie and that's just dreadfully bad storytelling. Their entire relationship happened off screen. I appreciate Tim making a point of having Eddie outright state that he is straight and I appreciate both Oliver and Ryan shutting down the nonsense as well but the way Eddie was shoehorned into that relationship for no apparent reason is laughable.

A. So heads up people. I answered one of these earlier but I included something that I couldn't find definitive proof of so if you saw that reply no you didn't, lol. The good news is I have lots of complaints about this so it wasn't difficult to find another one to reply too.

Now, anon, you know what's really crazy about the Buck/Tommy/Eddie thing? That absolutely no one tried to point out the giant Eddie shaped thread that existed throughout that entire relationship. It's crazy how not a single person caught how much Eddie was present in that relationship. Weird, huh? Now I'm going to blow your mind even more. They didn't even have a handful of scenes that were just for or about them. Yes, they had a handful of scenes that didn't directly include Eddie, but he was still a factor in each of those scenes. Eddie was not present for their first kiss, but he was the topic of conversation leading up to the kiss. Eddie wasn't in the room when they had their second kiss, but he was there, and the show made a point of showing his reaction to the kiss. Eddie wasn't present for the night at the loft following Buck's shoulder injury, but he was the one who was actually with Buck at the hospital, and he was the one Tommy called to come treat Buck the following morning. Eddie wasn't present for the anniversary dinner, but he was mentioned in the scene when Tommy tells Buck he can take Eddie to the Lakers game 'and die', in what I still think was foreshadowing dialogue. Eddie wasn't present for the breakup, but he's who Buck went to following the breakup. Tommy told Buck he was his first, not his last. The last shot of that episode was of Buck and Eddie. Eddie was physically present in the scene where they met. Eddie was physically present at the basketball game. Eddie was physically present at the bachelor party. Eddie was physically present at the medal ceremony. Eddie was physically present at the virtual bday party for Chris. Eddie was physically present at the hospital following Buck's injury. Eddie was physically present the morning after in the loft. Over the course of their entire relationship Buck and Tommy had ONE scene that did not directly or indirectly involve Eddie in some capacity, and that was the dinner date during the season 7 finale. But even then Buck had spent the entire episode prior to the date, with Eddie. Yes, the point of the relationship was for Buck to discover his bisexuality, but the subtext of the relationship was Eddie. Eddie was everywhere, and that was not accidental. He was purposely written into the narrative. And many, many people tried to point that out to you all. The show didn't play you or lie to you. Lou did and you all did. You played yourselves and then you paid him to lie to you as well.

The show has never had Bobby, Athena, Maddie or Chimney directly state their heterosexuality. That's not something television shows do. Being heterosexual is the assumption. When a television show has a character state it outright it's usually an indication that they won't end up being heterosexual. Actors lie all the time in interviews. It's deliberate. Their job is to make you want to watch the episodes. Not tell you directly what will happen in the episodes. Do we know for sure? No, you're correct about that. But everything the show has done so far has been very loud and not very subtle. And I'm sorry, anon, but usually a character stating their straightness is the beginning of a sexuality arc. That's kind of starting a sexuality arc 101.

Thanks Nonny! Much appreciated!

I agree with all of this. Nothing to add. Ali has slain again, as per usual. 😂

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[anim-ttrpgs]

More rambling On the subject of TTRPGs as a disrespected artform.

There’s a bunch of reasons for this disrespect being present that I could get into but I’m going to focus on the most relevant one to this topic: TTRPGs are helpless.

To explain what I mean I’m going to make a comparison to video games, or at least action-adventure type video games. Those have a lot of similarity to “trad” and “neo-trad” TTRPGs, which are nominally the most popular style of TTRPG (even though it seems like half the player base would rather be playing something else but again another tangent). Both of these are usually about protagonists using abilities to avoid or defeat adversaries and avoid traps and progress through a series of hazardous areas.

Video games are not helpless. They can assert themselves on the player. When you lose in a video game and you’re like “Aw no way, I didn’t want that to happen!” The video game can say “No, Mario fell in the pit, Master Chief got blown up by a grenade, Pac-man got caught by a ghost, you lose. According to the rules of the game, you have to try again from a checkpoint.” And you have to do it. The game forces you to start over.

In a TTRPG, if your guy gets killed and you object to that, the TTRPG can at most offer a weak textual protest as you or the game master flips the die over to a more favorable number.

Of course plenty of video games have cheat codes, hacks, mods, etc. that can remove that power from the video game to force you to follow the rules of the game, but not everyone has the knowledge or skills to use those, whereas everyone can flip a die over or just lie about the number. Plus, doing this is looked upon less favorably in the culture of video games than in the culture of ttrpgs. I mean, it’s in the name. “Cheat” codes. You’re cheating.

If somebody brags about how they beat Elden Ring with no deaths but then you mention that you hacked the game to give your character infinite HP, people will go “hey wait a minute,” but if you brag about how your character was so badass when they defeated a hundred cultists at once in D&D5e, because the DM kept saying the cultists missed every time the rules say they should’ve hit and you kept saying your character hits every time the rules say their attack should miss, nobody bats an eye. It’s even more accepted and expected that a DMPC will materialize out of thin air to kill everything every time the party picks a fight they can’t win.

Ultimately, a lot of the urge to cheat like this I think comes from the fact that people are introduced to neo-trad TTRPGs like D&D5e through critical role and also its playerbase’s general fixation on pre-planned plots and heavily scripted scenes that rely on characters never dying(which was not invented by critical role but was heavily bolstered by them). The only way that these goals can be achieved is by cheating, since D&D5e really doesn’t support that kind of thing, so they get into a habit of cheating. They get into the mindset that the rules don’t matter and can only get in the way of their intended gameplay. Which is of course because their intended gameplay is not something D&D5e was made for.

Then gradually they trickle into other games besides D&D5e, and assume that those games’ rules don’t matter either, completely deflecting and disregarding the experience that the designer intended players to have with their art. Or worse, they become TTRPG designers themselves, and write their own rules based on the assumption that the rules don’t matter which not only results in shitty gameplay experiences for people who are trying to follow these thoughtlessly-written rules, but also further reinforces the infectious idea that TTRPG rules don’t matter. But dude. TTRPGs aren’t anything *but* rules. The rules text is the whole game. Saying the rules don’t matter is like saying the paint on the canvas doesn’t matter! Yes! It matters because those colors of paint in those places placed there intentionally by the artists are what makes it a painting and make up the whole experience of experiencing the painting!

So we have a huge demographic in the TTRPG fanbase that thinks that the very artform itself is, at best, valueless and at worst actively bad!

Reading comprehension check!

Things I did not say in this post:

“We need to expel any particular demographic and never let them play.” (But maybe if they don’t like our artform, they should try to find one more suited to their needs instead of twisting another artform into something else.)

“You’re never allowed to adjust or homebrew a rule to fit the intentional gameplay experience you’re going for.” (But if you find yourself doing this all the time, either before you have even played the game normally, or constantly on the fly in most or all sessions, maybe you need to find a different game altogether.)

Exerpt from Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy. (with art by @theblackwarden )