#yes these are things that annoy me why do you ask

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 12: The One Where We Start Laying the Yellow Brick Road to Italy

I realized the other day that, even though I like to bounce around from place to place in the Lukola timeline, I probably needed to start tightening things up on the ship if I ever wanted to get to the end of the story. And, yes, dammit, this story better have a finale at some point because there’s nothing more annoying than an open-ended ending, particularly in the romance genre.

Today we’re going to take a quick jaunt over to Italy because –

NO! Not because Luke is allegedly filming there. If you’re into real-time stalking, you’re in the wrong blog. But, I’m sure there’s a Discord for that.

It’s because I’ve had several people ask for my opinion about the change in behavior between Luke and Nicola during their Day 1 interviews there. Wait – people are interested in my thoughts? Wow, that’s actually kind of nice. Thank you! Okay, back to what I was saying –

Was there a change in behavior when Luke and Nicola reached Italy? Yeah, actually, there kind of was.

By May 9, we had been gifted with a slew of material from Luke, Nicola, and the Bridgerton cast and, I must admit, those early interviews are some of the most entertaining of the tour. In the very beginning, Nicola appeared as the utmost professional – charming, intelligent, and witty at the right moments – and Luke played her likeable counterpart to “Book Colin” perfection – bouncing between being awkwardly boyish and wickedly roguish, all while looking at Nicola like she had just served him homemade peanut butter crumble.

The two of them together, playing off each other, in my opinion, was better than Bridgerton Season 3 (you cannot beat the World Tour being 99% Luke and Nicola, with only a few random side characters taking up screentime). There was some major “Electric Love” radiating from those two throughout the tour, but it seemed very much heightened in the beginning (probably because they hadn’t yet answered the same question 67 times). By the way, if you haven’t heard that song by Børns, go have a listen. It will, at the very least – hopefully – put you in an upbeat mood for the day.

Now, where was I? Oh, yes – was there a change in behavior between Luke and Nicola when they reached Italy?

Absolutely.

Do I know why?

Absolutely not.

Perhaps Luke was bent because someone spilled his coffee, or Nicola was upset because her stylist made her to wear that little silver bow in her hair. In my opinion, the most intriguing part of Day 1 of the Italy press junket was that Luke and Nicola struggled with answering the question, “What is love?” I swear they both babbled on like two kids in debate class who hadn’t bothered to read the material given to them before taking their respective podiums. They finally seemed to settle on Luke’s “Maybe it’s, like, connection.” Well, they seemed to be missing the “connection” that day.

Honestly, no one can explain their “don’t stand so close to me” vibe during those first day interviews except Luke and Nicola. But, we can at least have some fun and speculate about it with a bird’s eye view. At this point, you should know that I love spreading the puzzle pieces out and seeing how they might all connect. Most people – when putting a puzzle together – start with the side pieces, right? You’ll get my joke in a moment (I hope).

In March 2024 – I don’t know the specific date because my timeline is rather murky going back that far (I was unaware Lukola even existed!) – Luke traveled to Los Angeles for a photo spread with InStyle magazine. I’ve heard two versions of this story. The first being that Luke traveled to Los Angeles with Antonia alone; the second being that he traveled to Los Angeles with his friend group, which included Antonia. I couldn’t tell you which is true, and it really doesn’t matter because it doesn’t necessarily add or take away from today’s story.

Before I get started, I wanted to give a “hurrah” to The-One-Whose-Group-Chat-Fills-in-Lots-of-Missing-Bits-for-Me-Including-the-Part-Where-Video-Footage-of-Antonia-in-Los-Angeles-Seemed-to-Indicate-a-Celebrity-Was-Not-the-Videographer-and-There-Were-So-Many-British-Accents-in-the-Background-One-Would-Fancy-a-Guess-She-was-Traveling-with-a-Group.

Moving along…

On April 7, 2024, Antonia posted a series of photographs and clips to her Instagram grid indicating she had been in Los Angeles, including one where she was laying on a blanket in front of the Griffith Observatory and one where she was sitting at a table marked with the number “95.” On April 14, she posted a second set of photographs, tagging her location as Beverly Hills, California and using “End of Beginning” as her audio (yes, I side-eyed this choice of music so don’t feel bad if you did as well). The second photo dump included her lounging on a rooftop.

I’m not going to delve into posts made by Luke and Nicola during that timeframe. I mean, I’m sure Nicola’s comment, “’Friends’…sure Jan,” on Luke’s April 11 reshared post about Bridgerton Season 3 was only meant to be applicable to Polin. And, if Luke wanted to use yellow and black hearts to represent the colors Nicola and he were wearing in his April 12 post, that’s cool, too. And, I am definitely not going to speculate on Nicola’s April 15 post (for Big Mood) that Luke liked, and she captioned, “I will bite off anything that dangles.”

By April 21, Luke and Nicola were in Australia at the World Premiere of Bridgerton. I am only going to provide a quick overview of Australia instead of a full-fledged recital because, at some point, I will almost certainly dedicate an entry to this country. Let’s start with Luke pulling off the hottest walk-up in Netflix human history (I mean, have you watched it in slow motion?). Then, we had the hard launch of the handholding business (because why again?). And, we had Luke tripping over his words, “We’re very, like, giving…I’m not talking about those scenes…” Oh, and Nicola telling an interviewer that, “[y]ou can’t keep a good girl down,” and, in response, Luke’s lips curling into a wicked-ass Cheshire cat's. We had them in the garden, with Nicola bending down to hug Luke after she had scratched/hit/petted his head. Perhaps I should not mention the possibility of a man’s shirt being visible on a bed behind Nicola (I said possibility not that it was). And, Nicola telling Luke, “You’re the funnier one,” when he was concerned that perhaps Benedict was funnier than Colin. Then we had the “Nicola-in-the-green-dress” day where, as they were going down the steps, Luke seemed to instinctively reach for Nicola’s hand, but she played it cool and took his arm instead. Oh, and that entire “green dress” day in general (I mean, there was so much shit going on that day). And, best we do not forget Nicola saying, “the best foundation for love is friendship,” which mirrored the bracelet “someone…in Australia” gave Luke that read, “Do you believe the best foundation for love is friendship?” Because that’s not suspicious at all. Alright, let’s get the fuck out of Australia – but not before I mention Nicola commenting on Luke’s April 27 Instagram post with “Ready for the next?” and Luke replying, “Absolutely.” Yeah, yeah, yeah, their shenanigans in Australia expanded the USS Lukola tenfold.

Oh, also, let me throw this in here because, if you are a “ring truther,” this fact plays a significant role in the Lukola timeline. If you do not know what a “ring truther” is, that’s perfectly fine. You can catch up by reading Entry 6 (The One Where I Explained the Claddagh Ring to My Dad) of my blog. I mentioned in Entry 6 that some Lukola sleuths have stated the metadata they pulled from the sketches of the Claddagh ring uploaded by Chupi indicate they were done as early as April 26. In other words, it means the Claddagh was likely commissioned between Australia and Italy. In fact, if we are to believe Chupi when it said it took four weeks to make the ring, then it had to have been commissioned by May 9, 2024, at the latest. Oh, lookie there, that’s Day 1 of the Italy interviews.

But, before we get to May 9, let’s pause on April 29. That was the day Luke’s InStyle spread was published – yes, the one I mentioned earlier. Luke has pictures from this photoshoot still on his Instagram grid – in fact, Nicola commented, “Yess dude!!” on them – but those aren’t the pictures I want to talk about. No, I want to talk about the pictures InStyle posted on its Instagram grid that day. These photographs came directly from Luke, which was confirmed by the InStyle article when it said, “…the actor delighted the InStyle team by delivering the polaroid photos he’d taken for this story tucked oh-so-carefully in a little brown bag for safekeeping.” The pictures Luke provided, among others, included one where he was laying on a blanket in front of the Griffith Observatory in Los Angeles; one where he was sitting at a table marked with the number “95;” and one where he is sitting in a lounge chair on a rooftop. If you want to see the pictures, InStyle still has them available – you just need to go through hundreds of posts to find them. Luke did not like this InStyle post, which was kind of odd because he was tagged in it, and they were reportedly his pictures.

Why did these InStyle polaroids seem so familiar?

Oh, that’s right, because they were.

Remember that April 7 post of Antonia’s I mentioned a bit ago? Yeah, the one where Antonia posted a bunch of random pictures from Los Angeles and – only after InStyle posted Luke’s polaroids – fans realized Antonia had preemptively posted her version of some of Luke’s polaroids.

I am not going to speculate too much about these pictures or their implications in this blog post, but these pictures may resurface in future posts because I find myself side-eyeing the fact they even exist. And, we should probably accept that Luke was aware of them before his pictures came out on April 29 because he threw a like on Antonia’s April 7 post. Could it have been a “blind” like? Sure, I guess, but the logical side of my brain says he probably looked through them at the time she posted. Let’s not worry too much about it right now, though.

After trying to write out my “general” opinion about the pictures several times, I finally decided that the best way I could articulate my thoughts was through the conversation I had with my father. Yes, Dear Dad returns again for another insightful Q&A.

I started by showing Luke and Antonia’s three “matchy” pictures to my dad and then asked him to compare them. To be clear, the pictures were their respective Griffith Observatory, Table 95, and Rooftop Lounging pictures.

Me: “So what do you think?”

Dad: “About what?”

Me: “Ugh! Why did Antonia take those pictures?”

Dad: “Well, to show she’s part of the ‘in’ crowd. The only reason I can see them being taken is if she was going to put them on the Internet.”

Me: “Uhh, as a matter of fact, she did put them on the Internet! Approximately three weeks before Luke’s were published.”

Dad: “See! I’m not as dumb as you think.”

Me: “Whatever. So, you really believe that? She took them to show people that she was, like, there?”

Dad: “Yeah. Why else would she take them? They’re not the kind of photos you’d take normally. What’s she going to do, put them in an album and show her friends in five years and say, ‘Look, I sat in Luke’s chair?’ Who does that? Nobody. Plus, Luke’s pictures look like they were taken with a polaroid camera and Antonia took hers with, I guess, a phone. Why use two different cameras? Again, it doesn’t make sense. Seems to me like she knew what pictures he was taking, and she was trying to copy them so she could put them on the Internet.”

Thanks, Dad.

You do not have to accept my father’s thoughts on the photographs. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. However, I think we can meet in the middle and opine that, at a minimum, Antonia’s pictures caused the weak Lukolas to jump overboard; at most, they gave some people stalker vibes; and somewhere in between, they introduced Antonia's negative influence over the fandom and what some may consider trolling behavior (even if it wasn’t recognized then).

Now, before we land in Italy on May 9, let’s summarize what has happened during the preceding two months.

First, we had Luke traveling to Los Angeles in March with Antonia, either alone or as part of a friend group. Luke had pictures of himself taken while there.

Second, we had Antonia posting pictures in early April that would be linked directly to Luke’s pictures by the end of the month.

Third, throughout the month of April, we had Luke and Nicola traveling together for the World Tour. We have all seen these interviews, and we have all formed independent opinions about them.

Fourth, based on Chupi’s own words, we know the Claddagh ring must have been commissioned no later than May 9.

Okay, now we’ve reached May 9, Day 1 of the Italy press junket.

Besides the press interviews, what happened on that day?

Well, Antonia reposted Luke singing Coldplay’s “Yellow” to her TikTok account.

Uhh… Huh. Interesting.

I mean, it’s possible that this was just a coincidence and she just liked Luke’s version of it. Or, it’s possible Antonia knew that “Yellow” was the Polin wedding song and she anticipated trolling Nicola and/or the fandom with it. But, if we believe she knew “Yellow” was the Polin wedding song, that means either Luke told her, or someone with that knowledge told her (i.e., someone from Luke’s team or family/friend group). We also know that Luke mentioned this song in the May 16, 2022 Netflix Tudum article when Nicola and he were asked about their song choices for Season 3. Luke stated his frontrunner was “Yellow” by Coldplay “because of Penelope’s dresses.” Regardless of why Antonia posted the song, I find it hard to imagine Netflix, Bridgerton, Shondaland, Nicola, or Luke were too impressed by Antonia resharing it on TikTok. I mean, at this point, Netflix & Co. would surely have been aware that Antonia’s “copycat post” went over with the fandom like a wet blanket in December in Canada. I imagine some questions were being asked and Luke may very well have received a hand slap from Corporate – and maybe even from Nicola.

But, that’s not the only thing that happened on May 9.

Luke posted his Homme magazine spread to his Instagram grid on that day, too. He captioned the post, “Chatting through all things S3 with @hommeplusmag [o]ut next week x.” Nicola commented, “Yessss,” and Luke tagged his post with the location of Hackney, London. That last part – about Luke tagging the location in Hackney – apparently sent the fandom into a deep-dive of…Nicola’s backyard. Why? Because Nicola lives in Hackney (Nicola herself confirmed she lived in Hackney in a March 18, 2024 interview with Derry Now), and rumors started to circulate that Luke’s pictures were taken at her home.

Hmm, I didn’t realize May 9 was such a busy day, did you?

So, which came first – the chicken or the egg? Did Antonia repost “Yellow” to her TikTok before Luke posted his Homme in Hackney images to Instagram, or vice versa? I’m sure someone out there has this information. The answer might help shine some light as to why Luke and Nicola seemed “off” in the early part of their Day 1 Italy interviews. But, then again, does the order really matter? Regardless of who posted first, it would seem to me that “Yellow” was a very possible culprit for the different energy on set that day.

That, or Luke really was peeved over someone spilling his coffee.

[heartlesscorpse]

AHH HII!!! saw the mr crawling fic u posted and it's adorable :(( can i please have a mr crawling x reader where they have a condition that makes them sleepy? andAND because of this, sometimes they do strange things like, for example, talking non coherently, sleeping in weird places and having tics while sleeping!! i really want some fluff with this man...... *holds my hands out like a poor victorian child*

As always, take your time!! your aesthetic and work is genuinely really good!! you are great at this <3 mwahmwah. 🐁

Mr Crawling and Narcoleptic!reader

A/N: *shakes you violently* OMG ANON YOU'RE A GENIUS you just made my day with this btw — ask and ye shall receive >:)) As for the condition I think you might be asking for a Narcoleptic reader or something of those lines but YEAH I can totally do that, here you go, mini oneshot for you 🫵🏻🫵🏻

Summary: Mr Crawling’s been noticing some weird behaviours from you lately for the past few days and it’s both funny and worrying, are you okay???

WARNING: This is set after the Blissful Love Life ending, if you don’t want spoilers then keep scrolling!

It’s been little over a few days now since you and Mr. Crawling escaped his world, and the two of you were perfectly settled together at your place. Mr. Crawling so far’s been pretty happy overall, getting to stay home with you in your world and has grown pretty attached to you. But, as of lately, he’s been noticing some…'strange' behaviours from you.

You seemed to be more sluggish when moving around the house and sleepy, he even found you crashed in the bathroom, at your desk, and other places in the house. He found the sight to be cute but at the same time it was also getting a little worrisome.

Were humans always this sleepy?? He’s never seen you this sleepy when the both of you were still in his world. Well, maybe he did a few times without realizing it, but he failed to pick up on it.

He even caught you mumbling incoherent things and twitching in your sleep while the two of you were cuddled up in bed. He thought you were hurting somewhere whenever he felt you quivering in his arms, which made him hug you tighter and run his fingers through your hair, trying to soothe you. It was another day done of hours of work when you came back home, had food, and shortly went to bed with Mr. Crawling following after you like a lost puppy. Considering how exhausted you were from work, you passed out in seconds the moment you flopped onto the bed.

Later in the night, Mr. Crawling was curled up under the covers, with you spooned in his arms, the bedroom completely pitch black with the curtains drawn closed and there was a comfortable silence that filled the room. His arms were wrapped securely around you in a comforting squeeze, he nuzzled his face into the back of your neck, inhaling your scent for a moment and he instinctively squeezed you a little tighter. Relishing in the warmth your body radiated...

The silence then was suddenly broken when he heard you mumbling things in a slurred tone, (unfortunately he picked up little words he could understand considering he still had a lot to learn with your language), and he could feel your muscles twitching once in awhile. Mr. Crawling however grew worried again, he lied there uncertain if he should try to wake you up or not. He didn’t want you getting cranky or annoyed for waking you up, but this was really starting to bug him and he wanted to help.

Mr. Crawling began to shake you gently to rouse you from your slumber, but you weren’t budging much, so he shook you a tad harder. “Human? Wake?” He murmured quietly. It took him another few tries until you started to stir from your sleep and you shifted in his arms to your discomfort.

“Mmn?… Mr. Crawling?….” You mumbled out quietly, your words sounding slurred in your half-asleep state.

Oh, good, you’re not mad. “Human hurt? Why twitching in sleep?” Mr. Crawling questioned, his fingers curled into the fabric of your night shirt. “Me worry, me want to help.”

You shifted under the covers again and you turned over to face Mr. Crawling, stretching your legs in a sluggish manner and your muscles relaxed. “I’m okay bud, I’m not hurt,…” Your words trailed off for a moment, straining back another yawn and your fingers found their way into Mr. Crawling’s hair, gently patting him. “It’s just my narcolepsy acting up, nothing to worry about…”

Narcolepsy?

Of course the term sounded unfamiliar to Mr. Crawling’s ears, “Narc-lep-see?…” He repeated, confused. As you could feel yourself slowly slipping in and out of unconsciousness, you did your best to try and explain your condition to Mr. Crawling. Mr. Crawling failed grasp much of it (in complicating terms-wise), but he seemed to understand it was something that made you very sleepy throughout the day. He also had the look of disappointment when you mentioned it was incurable, surely it could be fixable. If Mr. Silvair was here he might’ve found a way!

Before Mr. Crawling could even ask more questions about it, you were now unresponsive and had drifted off to sleep. He couldn’t be mad at you (not like he would anyways), he did abruptly wake you up after all. So he decided to keep quiet and save the rest of his questions for the morning, his arms fastened around you again and he rests his chin on the top of your head. Intently listening to your soft breathing and the dark noise of the bedroom that filled his ears. From this point on starting tomorrow, he’ll do the best he can to help you out…

[pomefioredove]

@hxney-lemcn said more cater fics and I am here 2 deliver ✌️✌️

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ friends kiss, too

type of post: short fic characters: cater additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, friends 2 lovers ON TOP! a little making out

Every time Cater drags you through one of these things, you ask yourself why you let him, and every time, the answer is the same: he's your best friend, and you love him.

It's the very same reason you let him spam you with texts and annoy you with surprise selfies. It's the reason you rarely hang out with anyone else, because you know it makes him jealous, though he'd never admit that.

It's the reason you're here, now, awake in your room well past curfew.

Despite the threat of a Housewarden who would flay you alive if he caught you and Cater sneaking around in the dead hours of the night, your bestie was absolutely insistent on this all-nighter.

It's a trend on Magicam, he said, and he had, of course, pouted and whined like a sad puppy until you agreed to "support him" by keeping him awake.

By two in the morning, you were more bored than tired.

"Pass. Pass," Cater says, swiping through dating profiles on his phone. "Hm... no, pass."

You sigh and slump against the headboard of your bed. "You've said that word so many times, it doesn't sound real anymore,"

"Ughhhh. Is Sage's Island where hotties go to die? I just want a cute holiday romance!" he exclaims. "Think of the pics!"

You roll your eyes. You'd heard that exact string of words probably ten times in the past few days.

"You can't date someone just for couple photo ops,"

Cater pouts. "Oh, yes I can. I specify "nothing serious" on my profile! It's not like I'm lying!"

Another eye-roll. He's technically right, as always, which just makes you even more annoyed.

But you don't want to get into an argument about the morality of flings right now.

"And it's cold out. Who am I gonna hold when it gets even colder? It's cuffing season, hon,"

Something about the way he says that bothers you. You try not to think about it so much.

"Well, you'll always have me," you tease.

Cater giggles, and sets his phone down on the bed, a subtle way of showing you that you have his full attention now. "Oh? What's this? Sounds like you're offering,"

"Not what I meant," you counter. "I'm your bestie, not your bae."

"Boooo. What are you, a nun? Friends cuddle all the time,"

Again, he's right. He likes being right, and you can see that on him now, too. He has that competitive glow on his face.

You smile. "Sure, sure, but we all know that cuddling isn't what you're looking for,"

Cater gasps, feigning offense with a hand placed delicately over his heart. "I am not that easy! I'm starting to think you really do want me all to yourself,"

If anything, it's the other way around. Since befriending him at the start of the school year, you'd always had the feeling that he took up all your time on purpose. But you don't say that.

"Besides," he goes on. "There are a lot of things that besties can do that are perfectly friend-like. The segregation of romantic and platonic is a totally oppressive amatonormative structure, anyway."

You roll your eyes. "You have got to stop reading those infographics. Do you even know what any of those words mean?"

"Not the point! I'm saying that there's lots of cute stuff we can do while remaining besties,"

He's very enthusiastic about this. You can't tell if it's his penchant for being right, or something more.

"Pfft. Okay. So, what, friends can kiss?"

"Obviously," Cater crosses his arms over his chest, giving you that smug look of his. "Friends kiss, too."

"Then prove it,"

The words that had you had been holding in the back of your mouth for the past few minutes escape before your brain can stop them.

Even Cater, who's never surprised, pales a little.

Your mouth opens, then closes, then opens, again without your thoughts offering any support.

"I didn't mean-"

"Okay,"

You blink. Something hot and cold at the same time runs through your body- adrenaline, anxiety, maybe it's just your own blood heating up at the way Cater leans closer, cupping your face in his hand, his fingers curled under your jaw and thumb gently brushing against your cheek.

His hands are kinda sweaty. You don't really mind, and even if you did, it wouldn't have mattered, because his lips are now sweetly pressing against yours.

You fit together quite nicely. As if he was just meant to kiss you.

It's hard not to think about everything all at once; his warm hand moving to cup your chin and hold you close to him, his hair brushing against your face, the way his lips still linger with spice from whatever he'd eaten earlier...

It's not perfect. But it's him, which is close enough.

Cater pulls away, his breath dancing across your lips, but he gives you no time to recover before he's closer, kissing you again with a sort of heat that matched the taste of his mouth.

He holds your face in both hands, shamelessly pinning you against the headboard and sitting in your lap as if he belonged there, always.

Minutes go by. Maybe hours. You wouldn't have noticed, or cared, either way. When you finally part from one another, it's felt like years.

You feel like an entirely different person. As if the world had ended and begun again in the six minutes you had been kissing him.

Cater sits atop your thighs, panting, his face redder than his Housewarden's hair, that of which would have flayed you both if he were to catch you like this.

Luckily, it's just the two of you.

"See?" Cater finally mumbles, dismounting you and scooting back to where he left his phone. "Platonic."

You're too breathless to argue.

You suppose you'll let him be right again.

[olderthannetfic]

Okay, genuine question: why so many people (not only in fandom but also in general literature/book circles) confuse magical realism with urban fantasy?

Like, of course, if you only go by definitions you may confuse 'em (it depends where do you go to check those definitions though) but that doesn't happen when you actually read a magical realism book and then an urban fantasy one. The two things are like comparing apples with coconuts. So not the same. Is only because people haven't read any magical realism book at all?

Ask brought to you all by a fanfic tagged as "magical realism" that's just a tattoo artist AU in a urban fantasy setting.

--

MY RAGE IS UNENDING

And yes, it's because they've never fucking read one.

It's fucking offensive to steal 'magical realism' for this, and it annoys me so much. I've even caught people I know doing this. AAAAAAAAAAAAH!

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

Enhypen and their 'oh' moment

Requested? Yes! Request: ‘so happy you’re willing to write for other groups 💞 my request is enhypen members falling in love / realizing they’re falling in love’

Jungwon Like most group leaders, he carries a lot on his shoulders. He probably feels that he can’t share that responsibility with anyone else from time to time. Still, he finds himself opening up about his stresses one night and he lets you comfort him. He likes to be strong for everyone else and wants to appear unaffected, but he feels safe appearing affected in front of you because you’re so gentle about it. It’s when he’s got his head in your lap after he unloads all his worries that he has his little ‘oh’ moment.

Heesung He might come off as reserved and even a little bit cold at first (someone please prove me wrong though!!). You might even think he doesn’t like you very much because he’s perhaps not as outwardly expressive as others. But trust that he has a soft spot for you. He might not let some of the younger members get away with something, but you can right in front of him and he’ll never say a word. If one of the younger members throws a fit about this preferential treatment, he’ll blink a few times and think, ‘huh. That’s weird.’ Largely unaffected by this revelation though.

Jay I think he’d be one of those that knows pretty early on that he’s falling. Within the first few times he meets you, he recognizes what’s happening in slow motion, so there’s no big ‘oh’ moment. Just a series of little confirmations along the way that his assumption was correct. You do the slightest, most monotonous thing and he thinks. ‘Yep, I think I’m in love.’ It’s not this big, scary feeling like some of the other members might experience, but rather a comforting feeling to fall.

Jake Now he might be shocked. Say you aren’t even dating but you share some mutual friends. He sees you playing with Layla in the other room and one of his group members calls him out for his staring, and maybe even calls him ‘lovesick’. Totally flabbergasted because what do you mean?? It’s not like that?? His group members’ faces tell him everything he needs to know - which is that he’s a blind idiot (affectionate).

Sunghoon Ok, he realizes because he’s jealous. Regardless of whether you are dating or not, he’ll see someone get way too close to you, or hear someone talk about how they’re going to ask you out, and he’s panicking!! Cannot determine right away why he’s panicking because he’d like to think he’s not a very possessive person. But here we are. The ‘oh’ moment is when he realizes he perked up as soon as your attention was back on him. Might just confess in a roundabout way right then, like, “don’t pay attention to anyone else, okay? Only me!” A big baby.

Sunoo lol he says he hates annoying things. Then lets you annoy him continuously. Doesn’t say a word when you poke his cheek or boop his nose. Doesn’t complain when you keep him up with your yapping in the middle of the night. Doesn’t think the first thing of bailing on any other plans because you’re bored. This will be a super slow realization, but when it finally does hit him, it’s because HE said he missed you and you laugh and say, “but we’re constantly together!” ‘Oh’ indeed.

Niki To no one’s surprise, Niki has maknae privileges and totally milks it for all it’s worth. He’s totally fine with being babied by his members. He’s used to being protected, but feels rather protective of you. Might even speak up to his hyungs if they mess with you too much, to which they’ll tease him about. Thing is, he might start swinging on them if they don’t stop!! The thought that it’s anymore than friends doesn’t compute for him until it’s spelled out for him by one of his group members, probably in a sarcastic way - like, “Fine, fine, we’ll stop messing with your girl.” Never occurred to him that you could be his until that moment.

[trashywormeateroffics]

waited my whole life (steve rogers x reader)

the gif is not mine!

no summary it’s just a little thing, fluffy and reader struggling to be open with their emotions yay:)

a/n: well, long time no see….. i hope u enjoy!

masterlist

\\\\

“they really appreciate you, you know?” he says, still facing forward. he’s being going at this for months. trying to convince you that the team sees you as part of their family. the woods seem endless, stretched out by your tiredness from the mission and aching limbs still wrapped in a tact suit, and yet, though you cannot admit it to yourself, a whisper of a wish echoes through your mind. a wish for it to continue, on and on, perhaps on a loop. a wish for his company.

“i do too.”

he looks at you.

“you might be worse than me at taking a compliment.” you raise your eyebrows and huff out a laugh.

“one would think you out of everyone would know how to take praise.” you purse your lips, trying to hide an amused smile. “i mean, since you get it all the time.”

“right.” he scoffs, though his eyes twinkle with beguilement.

“i mean, the great captain america. everything that is wonderful and magical about this country.”

“that’s how you think of me?”

“i said captain america, not steve rogers.” he tilts his head.

“are they not the same?” you shrug your shoulders.

“what do you think?”

“once in a while you could answer a question without deflecting. won’t kill you.”

“it might.” your smile is mischievous. he shakes his head with fake exasperation. he never seems truly upset at you, never acts like having you around is an effort (even though you are pretty certain that it is), so, maybe, you could return the favor and be earnest for once.

you roll your eyes and huff. you’re not annoyed at him. you’re not annoyed at how he makes you feel. you’re just annoyed that it’s so hard to say, to show.

“you alright?” the space between his brows creases with soft concern. you open your mouth, ready to tell him that yes, you are fine. just tired from walking. you feel the deflection making its way up your throat, tensing your vocal chords, but he tilts his head and your mouth closes shut.

“you are steve.” he frowns, confused, and probably worried that you are experiencing a case of sudden amnesia, but before he can ask and deviate you from your mission, you continue. “there would be no captain america without steve rogers, but there would be a steve rogers without captain america.”

his eyes soften, and for a split millisecond you wonder if something just crossed his mind, or if he saw something behind you, because there is no way he could be looking at you like that. but then he says your name, it comes out breathy, almost with wonder, and so warm. you’ve never heard your name said like that. like a prayer, a prize, a solution. something good.

“don’t get all soft on me now, you’re still wearing the suit.”

he laughs an incredulous laugh. the corners of his eyes crinkle with mirth. it’s blinding, it’s light, it’s him.

“i’m always soft on you.” he says after he sobers up, though he is still smiling softly. “just waiting for you to realize it, sweetheart.”

that pet name. god. you might love it even more than when he says your name. he never calls anyone else by anything other than their name, or perhaps a common nickname. but never that. that is only for you. nat says it’s because you are the sweet part of his heart. you think his entire heart is sweet. you don’t understand how you could have a place there; he seems to know that, and that is why he reminds you over and over again in a million different ways that while you might not believe yourself deserving of it, that does not change the fact that to him you are rooted there. you want to be. there is nowhere else you’d like to rest.

you want to tell him everything. that he not only has put down roots in your heart, but that he has merged with the veins and the vessels that pump blood to it. that without him there wouldn’t be an empty space in your heart, there would simply be no heart. you want to be the person who loves loudly, he deserves that, but some wounds are still too deep, too fresh, and they seem to clog your lungs. the declaration gets stuck somewhere in between there and your throat (and your brain). it makes you panic, the fear that he cannot read your mind, your eyes, that he does not and will never know what he means to you, and that, at some point, he will leave to find someone who can and will tell him all of it. reassure him.

“steve…” it’s pleading. you’re sure you look like a scared animal, wild eyes and frantic breathing. without pausing his walk, he side steps a bit, getting closer to you. in a second your hand is enwrapped in his. he squeezes one, two, three times. then he caresses it with his thumb. your steps falter a bit, but you gather yourself quickly. it would’ve been unnoticeable to anyone, but not to him. you never go unnoticed by him.

he leans a bit, his mouth close to your ear and whispers, almost as a secret, as if not even the trees around you should be privy of it. only you.

“i’ll wait. whenever you’re ready. you’re worth all of it.” you shut your eyes tightly, trying to stop the onslaught of tears that are forming too quickly, trusting he will not let you fall as your feet keep moving forward. you hear him chuckle softly, barely, almost just to himself. you look at him. he’s already looking at you. he gives you a lopsided smile that makes you feel like he knows something you don’t, that maybe no one else does, before speaking again. “waited my whole life for ya, what’s a bit more time?”

and for the first time in your life, you believe someone. you believe him.

[signanothername]

Do you ever get annoyed by askers getting the more simple parts of your characterizations wrong? Does it ever feel like people just aren't listening to you because of how they keep asking about the fundamentals of your characters?

(No hate to any askers, this is just a genuine question) (I just wanna know more about how Ano feels about answering things all the time)

See Anon, my motto in life is “give the benefit of the doubt” and if there’s one skill I learned from life, it’s patience

When I see an ask that gets my characterization wrong, I do not assume that the person asking is ignoring my posts or is trying to push their own characterization onto me, I assume that maybe the person is a new follower and has not read through my older posts, or someone who hasn’t been online in a while and only returned recently, so i simply gently nudge them in the right direction to how I characterize them

Were there asks that made me feel a lil frustrated? Yes, I won’t lie to you about that, and tbh I’m ok with asks that get the finer more deeper details wrong, as these kinda things can be a bit tricky to understand and deal with

But when it comes to the fundamentals of the character, the simpler aspects of the character, for example, Nightmare holding no true attachment to anyone but his twin, something that I pretty much show all the time and I get an ask that gets it wrong, I do release a lil sigh (that’s something I haven’t actually gotten an ask that got it wrong which is why I’m using it as an example)

But again, I give the benefit of the doubt, and assume that the person is genuinely asking and is not purposely ignoring my posts or pushing their own ideas onto me, so I still answer it the same way I answer any other ask, gently nudging the person asking to the right direction of my characterization

Of course, this is when it comes to my own characterization, there are asks I receive that is asking generally or are exploring what ifs, these are fun and do no harm, and I do find them fun to explore

That being said, most of the asks I get are genuinely fun and leave a big smile on my face, and even when I get an ask that frustrates me a bit, I’m still grateful for it, I’m grateful that people genuinely love my characterizations enough to want to know more about them

So generally, I’m happy with the asks I get still, whether they get my characterization right or wrong

Thank you for showing interest and curiosity about my characterizations of my lil blorbos :)

[faeries-child]

No place for love part 2

OTHER PARTS: Part 1

Pairing: Azriel x oc/reader

Summary: She was the only way to get the information the spymaster needed, but he would have truly given anything not to see her again. Not to be at her mercy, completely under her control, for she awakened things in Azriel that he would rather had kept in slumber.

Warnings: Mature content, nudity, prostitution, eventual smut, mention's of SA, fighting and a lot of other triggering things :,)

NOTICE: I AM A DYSLEXIC, NOT A NATIVE ENGLISH SPEAKER, I WRITE THESE AT 2 AM, HAVE MERCY :)

(Also, I got some inspiration to this chapter from one of the episodes from BBC Sherlock, where there is the legendary Irene Adler)

The man under Brianna had started to annoy her. She had kept him company for hours now. Fucking him, making love to him, pleasing him however he wanted. She was tired, tired of him. His smell was all over her by now and she wanted nothing more than to wash it off in a long warm bath, that she could maybe get to enjoy later, if she succeeded in her mission. 

She was straddling him, running her hands on his chest and smiling down at him. The man was panting heavily under her, eyes closed and his hands still keeping her hips securely in place on him.

 “I do not believe I can go for another round anymore love” he said looking up at her. He seemed to be intoxicated with everything around them and especially with her. 

Brianna thanked the mother that it was over now. Now she could start the real game. “My lord, did I wear you out? but there were so many things that I still wanted to do.” She let out a fake giggle at the end to convince him of the act she was putting on before him. 

She rolled off him, leaving him on the bed. Brianna walked to the other side of the room, where her robe was abandoned on one of the many cushions that covered the floor and made up the makeshift lounging area of the room. She pulled the robe on to cover her naked body. Turning to face the man again, she smiled that vicious smile she knew to make in situations like this. 

“Tell me my lord, now that you are back from your travels, what's next?”

“Oh Brianna. Why must you remind me of that boring thing people call reality?” 

He turned on the bed so he was facing her. In his eyes Brianna could sense a bite of annoyance. But to Brianna he was a simple man, nothing more than plaything in a bigger game she got to play. Getting the right information meant that she would get to meet the high lord’s spymaster again. 

To Brianna it was fun, refreshing almost. Talking to someone who at least tried to be a gentleman. Someone who tried not to look at her only as an object to be toyed and fiddled with. 

“I was only meaning to ask so I would know if you would continue to grace us with your presence in the future. Many of my girls miss you, they would be delighted to offer their services to you.” You lied through your teeth, like hell would you let any of the girls near this man. He wasn’t the worst that there was, but if you would have been given the choice, you would have burned him to ashes before he ever laid a finger on you the first time. But at least he was simple at mind. Easy to control, easy to impress. 

“My Brianna, always so sweet tongued.” He got up from the bed, starting to collect his clothes from the floor and putting them on. “But yes, I will be staying for a while. Business in the east went well, so now me and my men are preparing for the next stage.” He spoke not realizing how much he was giving away.

Brianna could truly now tell that he wasn’t the brightest of the punch. But she had gotten enough information, it was not yet enough proof to prove anything, but at least she had something interesting to report back to the shadowsinger and the high lord. 

Brianna smiled and walked towards the man, straightening his collar while looking into his eyes. “I am sorry to inform you that our time together has now come to an end, my next client is waiting already.” 

At the right moment the doors to her champers were opened, revealing Daphne at the entrance.  “I am sorry my lord, but I must ask you to leave my lady's room now, but if you are in the mood, you can enjoy a drink downstairs at the lounge bar.” 

“Of course, and oh!” The man turned to look at Brianna before saying “I am sorry to disappoint the other girls you were speaking of, but you, my Brianna, are the only one that can satisfy my hunger.” 

He bent down at her level and kissed her as a goodbye, then smelling her neck when straightening his back. After that he left, and deep inside Brianna could feel a shiver of disgust, making her want to burn all that he had touched, including herself. 

It was wrong to say that she had gotten used to it, no one could get used to it. No matter how many times she laid with these men, every single time she imagined herself somewhere else. She wished she could put a dagger through all of their hearts. If only she had the freedom to do so. 

Daphne looked at her lady, her friend. Starting to close the door so she could have a moment to dress and gather herself. Maybe bathe as well. Daphne knew the expression on Brianna’s face, she knew that her friend needed to wash off his touch. 

“Daphne, wait.” She said looking at her friend's eyes. “I have message for you to deliver” 

“What is it Anna?” 

Brianna fully turned to her friend and smiled at her, knowing that soon she really could meet the shadowsinger again soon. 

“Send a message to the high lord and his spymaster. Tell them that I have information that they will want to hear. “

Azriel’s pov:

Azriel, Cassian and Rhysand had been enjoying a quiet evening in the townhouse when the fire message came. Cassian had Nyx sitting on his knee, the little boy was chewing a wing of black bat toy that Nesta had gotten him for a present on his 1st birthday. 

Message appeared in front of Azriel's nose, making Rhys and Cassian turn their heads towards him. “What’s that?” asked Cassian, while trying to keep the little boy still on his leg. 

“The brothel already answered you?” Rhys concluded, making the assumption based on the frown on Azriel’s face. After the visit Azriel had been quiet, at least quieter than usual, which worried Rhysand. His friend hadn’t said anything about who he had met or what had happened at the brothel. 

“Yes” was the only thing Azriel answered. Not wanting to let his brothers know how helpless he had been before the woman. 

“So this means…?” Cassian asked, trying to pry more information from his brother. 

“Me and Rhys are taking a trip to the court of nightmares” Said the shadowsinger, thinking that bringing the high lord with him, he could maybe get more serious information from the woman. 

Azriel still didn’t know her name. In his mind he had started to call her “the woman”, not knowing anything else that fit better. She was certainly no girl. Even though she was young, no one inexperienced could act that way. Her eyes had been so dark and Azriel knew that based on the little bits and pieces he had seen of her living space and life, she had seen more than most of others. 

After Gathering their weapons, they put on Hewn city-appropriate clothes so they wouldn’t stick out like sore thumb in the dark catacombs of the city that resided under their beloved house of wind.

 This time Azriel took extra care in securing daggers and truthteller on his belt, not wanting to be caught off guard. Memories of the woman haunting his mind. He had not been able to shake her from his mind. That devilish smirk entering his dreams, his shadows whispering about her every second he got. He wanted her, but at the same time he wanted to stay as far away from her as he could. Lock her up and keep her to himself, leave prythian and never see her again. 

She was going to be the end of him.

Hewn city:

Rhysand gave him suspecting look, when arriving at the front of the brothel. Azriel however ignored the look and closed his eyes. Breathing deeply once, before stepping inside the place. He gestured to Rhys to follow him. 

Azriel saw the girl from earlier. She was beautiful as well, he assumed that all of the girls here were. Daphne his shadows whispered to him. 

Daphne approached them. Seemingly taken aback by the high lord’s presence. So the woman had not told anyone that the high lord would be joining them tonight. She curtsied to the high lord, as well to him. Azriel only nodded to her. 

Rhys had raised his glamor. Trying to blend in, not to cause unnecessary attention and rumors that the high lord of the night court had been seen in a place such as this. 

“We received an invitation. According to you, you have what we asked” Rhysand said, keeping his voice calm,  but still demanding power. 

“Right this way my lord’s” was the only thing she said, turning and starting to walk towards the stairs. 

Azriel and Rhysand followed. Not questioning where she was taking them.

Why are you so tense? It was Rhys, speaking directly into Az’s mind from the open crack that had left for him. 

Be on your guard brother, please. 

It was the only thing the shadowsinger had time to say before reaching the familiar door. Daphne opened it for them, revealing the already familiar room to Azriel. 

They took a step to the room. Both him and his brother assessing the space. 

After making sure there wasn’t anyone else in the room and that the door was shut, he gazed upon her. 

She was at least dressed this time. In a blood red dress, revealing her neck and chest so that it would leave any man drooling. Dress was simple, but clearly expensive, seeing that it was perfectly tailored to her, hugging in all the right places, before widening to airy hem pooling down at the woman's feet. 

Last time he had been so focused at not staring at her, that now that when he looked at her face. Truly looked at her in a beautiful dress and hair that fell freely past the woman’s waist in curls. She was the most beautiful creature that he had ever come across. Right in that momen, Azriel knew he was doomed. Because for him she truly was THE woman, the only woman.

“Good evening, lord of shadows”

continued... (part 3 hopefully coming soon :,) )

[sammysbrokenheart]

Meet Cute

This is part 3 of the Hey Angel stories.

Part 1

Part 2

Summary: The day you and Billie met and instantly fell into like.

Warning: no warning just fluff ♡♡♡

"Y/N why don't we go to that cute coffee shop on campus? Your usual spot is so out of your way," Maya said while you were picking up your car keys.

You internally rolled your eyes.

"Maya... I moved all this way because of you. Let me have this last piece of normalcy why do you want me to just change everything," you argued with your angel. You've spoken to your friends and none of their angels were this overbearing and annoying.

"Why are you so annoying?" you said walking out of your apartment door.

"You know I'm right," Maya said, " you are late to class every single day because of this little detour. You can go on the weekend rather."

You got into your car without saying a word and drove to campus. You hated when Maya was right.

The day was beautiful. Living on your owm gave you the opportunity to stop every once in a while and smell the roses. Yes, you call Maya annoying for pushing you to move out, but ever since the move you've been able to breathe. You never thought that living an hour away from you parents would bring you so much joy and freedom. You also never thought that living so far away from your boyfriend would bring you so much joy too.

You met Eric in your sophomore year of high school. His mother was best friends with your mother so they just set you guys up. You didn't like him at first, but he fell in love immediately. You constantly try to match his energy, but after a year of dating you grew tired and annoyed of him. So when Maya suggested to closest furthest option to go to you took it. He was bawling into your shoulder when you told him, it was gross.

You were so lost in thought that you were shocked when you were hit with the delicious smell of coffee.

You stepped into the cute little coffee shop, it was a little busy, but not crowded. Your classmates would rave about this place and how delicious the breakfast bagels are, so that was the first thing you wanted to try.

You patiently stood in line playing with your phone until you heard someone call for the next customer. You quickly moved to the front and ordered your coffee and bagel.

"Name?" the cashier asked and you told him your name. After you paid you moved to the side and sat at the table next to the big window.

The garden outside was beautiful, you took out your phone and took a picture.

"Y/N!" you heard your name and quickly moved to the retrieval area.

You froze in place. This was not the same person who took your order. You were immediately enamored with her piercing blue eyes. Her black hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail. She was probably the most beautiful girl you have ever seen. Billie her nametag read.

You reached out to grab your drink and noticed your bagel wasn't there.

"Uh... Billie," you started. You noticed her blink as if she was snapped out of a trance, weird, you wondered what had her so lost in thought.

"Yeah Y/N?" she said and you felt goosebumps appear on your arms, you don't recall your name ever sounding so good, weird.

"I ordered a bagel too..." you said.

"Oh yeah fuck sorry," she went to the back and came back with a box that read breakfast bagel for Y/N. You reached out to take it and your hands touched hers. Neither of you made an attempt to move.

"Billie! Come get the next order!" a voice broke up free from whatever took over us.

"Sorry," she said.

"It's fine... See you around?" you said taking your drink and bagel, bolting out of the shop.

Your took a deep breath when you got outside. You felt out of break and energetic at the same time.

"What was that?" you heard Maya's voice in your ear, but you brushed it off.

It was nothing. It was.

[dietcokegirly12]

Hello! I saw your requests are open, so I would like to make a quick request :))

Could you do NSFW for Bram Stoker with a fem reader if u haven't already. His pretty underrated and I don't see content for him too often. 🥲

“𝔅𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔐𝔢”

featuring bram stoker ⎛⎝(˶` ˑˑ ´˶)⎠⎞

⁺‧₊˚ ─ ⋅ ⚰️ ⋅ ⁺‧₊˚ ─ ⋅ ⚰️ ⋅ ⁺‧₊˚ ─ ⋅ ⚰️ ⁺‧₊˚ ─ ⋅ ⚰️⁺‧₊˚

art credits: @ikiotemeru and @elfkrii

⁺‧₊˚ ─ ⋅ ⚰️ ⋅ ⁺‧₊˚ ─ ⋅ ⚰️ ⋅ ⁺‧₊˚ ─ ⋅ ⚰️ ⁺‧₊˚ ─ ⋅ ⚰️⁺‧₊˚

synopsis: after a thousand or more years of being asleep in his coffin, and then a couple more being impaled on the holy sword, safe to say, bram stoker was pent-up. a countless amount of decades without sex, or the touch of another being could do that to a vampire, after all. which is why, when you showed up, things began to spiral out of his control quickly...

a/n: hihi!! i agree, bram is so underrated and so hot, so of course i had to make a fic about him (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵) this takes place in the last couple eps of bsd season 5 btw, when they're in the airport, and he's impaled on the holy sword for ref!!

word count: 2.3k

tags: unprotected sex, creampie, LOTS of cum, blood kink, slight fingering, brief mention of masturbation, biting, size difference, etc etc

∘₊───☠︎︎༒︎✞︎───₊∘ ☠︎︎༒︎✞︎───₊∘ ☠︎︎༒︎✞︎───₊∘

you screamed. you couldn't help it.

there, in front of you, a very pale head, with flowing tresses of grayish white hair lay impaled on a sword. dead.

or so you thought, until a few moments later when his red irises slit open in irritation, a grumpy look crossing his face at being awoken from his slumber.

"i beg your pardon, small mortal girl, but if you couldn't tell, i'm resting here."

you stare, jaw slack and eyes bulging as you take in the man visibly unconcerned by his current state. in fact, he almost looked annoyed by your intrusion, like you were interrupting him rather than stumbling in on a corpse.

"resting? but y-you're..."

he sighs, exasperated. "yes. i am a being of eternity, and for this i must suffer, impaled on this very holy sword until the world rots away. now, let me slumber in peace."

you watch, with crude fascination as he closes his eyes again, preparing to drift off once more.

"why are you stuck on that sword may i ask?" you speak, breaking the silence that had just begun to settle over the room once more, causing his eyes to reopen in frustration.

"a man called fukuchi wields this sword, and he used it to conquer me. it's impossible to pull it out, and only he controls it. i'm burdened with this forever."

you stare at him, intrigued. "impossible? but what if i..." and with that, you reach for the sword hilt, tugging firmly to test it.

"ahh! fuck! you.. ah.. stop that!" his head drops back, hair fanning out behind him to reveal his slender neck and adam's apple bobbing rapidly, as he practically whines in pain.

you instantly drop the sword, cheeks flushing pink as you try to ignore the throbbing in your core from the sounds he just made. "sorry! i'm so sorry! i didn't mean to hurt you!"

he groans softly, head slumping forward in defeat. "it's not your fault. it's my curse, for my very existence is a burden to humankind. i must shoulder it now, for there is nothing else that can be done."

your eyebrows furrow at this, a small frown forming on your face. you couldn't imagine enduring like this for years on end, and you couldn't just walk away and leave him here now.

making up your mind, you straighten up with a huff. "what's your name?"

he eyes you warily. "bram. bram stoker."

you smile, looking at him confidently. "well, bram, you're in luck because i'm going to get you out of this!"

‧˚₊꒷꒦། ꒰ ‧₊˚ 𓉸⁺‧₊˚⊹ ꒱ ‧˚₊꒷꒦།⊹꒰ ‧₊˚ 𓉸⁺‧₊˚⊹ ꒱ ‧˚₊꒷꒦།⊹꒰ ‧₊˚ 𓉸⁺‧

two hours later, you had absolutely no luck of the sword showing any sign of release.

you had tried everything, from using a magnetic force, jostling the sword around to loosen it, using a wedge as leverage, and heating it up to create thermal shock, but nothing had worked.

meanwhile, bram was in immense pain, his groans growing increasingly more and more hoarse, eyes half-lidded and breathing ragged and heavy.

and though you were ashamed to admit it, it was turning you on more and more to hear his whines of pain, wetness having drenched your panties long ago.

but you couldn't focus on your pervasions now. not when bram needed your help.

"w-why don't y-you.. ah m'sensitive... use a m-mechanical pulley system?"

you pause, eyes shifting from frustration to sudden inspiration. "that's it!"

but now standing at the ledge of a ten story building, with a rope tied securely at the grip of the sword and the other end knotted tightly around the leg of the heaviest table you could find, the idea didn't seem as promising.

"are you sure? if this doesn't work..."

he sighs, eyes as empty and detached as always. "it's worth a try. it can't be worse than what i've endured on this sword."

with one last look at him to affirm that this is what he wanted, you slowly begin to push the table closer to the edge, the strain of it making you huff with effort.

"okay. here goes."

and in a final heave, the table falls, rope quickly untangling behind it.

and at about halfway, it stops.

the table groans from the strain, stuck in midair, the sight almost comical before beginning to give in, sword sliding slowly out.

bram begins to moan, thrashing around, loudly and more emphasized than before.

the sword continues to slowly slide outward, the table falling slightly more.

you're holding your breath at this point, hoping against hope that it works.

but after giving in a few more inches, sword almost halfway out, it stops for good, leaving bram panting, pale skin shining with a thin sheen of sweat.

you wait a few more moments, anticipating it to continue slowly slipping out, but it doesn't.

bram sighs deeply, wincing. "it's okay, human. i should've known this wouldn't.."

but before he can finish, he's cut off by the loud creaking of the table dangling below, before it suddenly drops away, hitting the ground with a loud crash!, wood splintering in every which way.

in turn, the sword is immediately yanked roughly out of bram, falling with the table in a loud clatter. and bram's final low, guttural wail of pain is the last sound you hear before you're blinded by a white light emitting from him, white particles dancing around.

you shield your eyes, squinting, and when the light slowly fades away, it reveals bram, full-bodied and standing tall in front of you. his newly restored body seems to practically glow, as he looms before you, sharp fangs glinting with a smile.

"bram!" all you can do is gawk at him, taking in his new body, vastly different from the head on a sword he was mere moments ago. "how did you...?"

"vampires have regenerative abilities." he says, smirking down upon you. "we can reinstate any and every body part that we have lost. that includes the body and.."

as he goes on, you can't help but feel that he's drawing closer and closer toward you as he talks, his hair just barely brushing your shoulders.

"any other part we've lost. and now that i'm finally free of that sword..."

and suddenly, his body is pressed up against yours, beginning to twine around you like a purring cat.

"how can I ever repay you?"

you gasp softly, bram pushing you back into the wall behind you, pinning you, red eyes aglow.

"maybe with this..?" and then his mouth is on yours, kissing you with a kind of urgent passion that only a man starved for a thousand years could give.

his lips are chilled, and soft on yours, and his entire body carries the coolness of a corpse as it covers yours. he tastes of a slight earthy musk, one not entirely unpleasant, and aged with the passage of time.

ancient as he was however, his hands were skilled, like a man who had done this for lifetimes, cool fingers skimming over your arms and brushing lightly over your stomach, eliciting a shiver and a small whine from you.

he presses himself harder against you, and it's then that you feel his massive erection grinding slightly across your stomach,

"what about... this?" his mouth comes to place light kisses across your jaw and down your neck, the unnatural coolness of his saliva making you shudder, as his tongue darts out to sweep across you, tasting you for himself.

his mouth drops lower, as his face nuzzles in between your heaving breasts, tongue gliding across the fabric of your shirt, leaving a prominent wet patch across your chest.

you moan softly, automatically arching further into him for more, eyes closed in bliss.

he draws his face away, eyes glinting. "oh, i know. i'll reward you with the body that you have restored. all nine inches of it."

you stiffen. nine inches?!

but before you can say anything, his mouth is on yours again, parting your lips with his tongue, while simultaneously tugging down your pants, almost desperate at this point to feel you.

he groans lowly into your mouth as his long, slim fingers dip into your panties, feeling the wet heat pooling in them.

his fingers slowly prod into you, eyes darting to yours for permission. when you give an affirming nod, your breathing rapid and eyes squeezing shut with the waves of pleasure washing over you, he begins circling your clit leisurely before sliding a finger in to stretch you.

you let out a small cry, body bowing into his touch as more of your slick gushes out of you, your hands shakily coming down to fumble with his pants, weakly pushing them down past his slender hips.

he lets out a small chuckle of amusement at your eagerness, helping you as he quickly pulls out his pale, leaking cock, beginning to pump it slowly as his eyes focus on you.

and then all thoughts of your pleasure are forgotten as you can do nothing but gape.

he was long. freakishly so, with veins decorating all along his shaft, and tip beading with white, pearly precum as it practically throbs in his hand.

he smirks, pumping faster. "like what you see, sweetheart?"

you swallow, knowing that there was no way that was all going to fit inside you.

he grins knowingly, leaning closer to you, and lowering his voice into a whine, mockingly pouting. "come onnn, you can take it. jus' look how wet she already is f'me."

and with that, he taps his tip gently against your throbbing cunt, making you instantly whine, pushing your hips forward for more.

"see?" he smiles in triumph, before beginning to push in slowly, hands coming to your hips to steady you.

you exhale shakily as he fills you slowly, inch by fucking inch, until you feel like he's all the way in your lungs.

as he sheathes the last of him deep inside you, gently pressing against the bulge in your stomach where he is, the only sound you can muster up in your fucked-out state are half-hearted whines.

"awww.." he coos, gently tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear. "cock drunk already?"

as you weakly shake your head no, the discomfort you earlier felt quickly fades into a needy throbbing, causing you to grab onto his hips, faintly trying to pull them back and forth in a shallow thrust.

taking mercy on you, he gets the hint and starts to make small thrusts, gradually building up the pace and pulling back more and more, until with every motion of his hips, only his tip remains before he slams it all into your greedy pussy, eagerly swallowing every inch.

"fuck!" his head falls back with a groan, soft hair tickling the nape of your neck as he pulls his hips back again and again, roughly plowing into you. "forgot how fuckin' good this feels."

your eyes roll back in your head, slutty moans leaving your parted lips as you clutch onto his shoulders desperately, the force of him practically shaking your entire body.

his slim hips ruthlessly piston in and out, showing no signs of relenting as he groans filthy words in your ear of "s'good," and "hah yes, keep squeezing me,"

you can feel the coil in your stomach rapidly tightening with every breath as your abdomen squeezes painfully, drool leaking from the corners of your lips as you whine soft cries of, "bram!"

his eyes turn feral when your nails lightly claw down the expense of his back almost unconsciously, only realizing when bram growls softly in your ear as a warning before the sting of him lightly sinking his fangs into your neck jolts you back to him.

your cry of pain quickly morphs into a moan however as the feeling of him sucking your blood thirstily causes pleasure to spread across your entire body, the feeling almost euphoric.

"fuck! suck h-harder!" you moan out, mind foggy with the sensations spreading across your entire body.

he complies, fangs plunging deeper into your neck, sure to leave two bruised bite marks, but you're too far gone to care, only urging him closer.

the feel of his mouth drawing you in is an electric pulse that thrums through you, until it consumes your entire body, the gentle slurping of your blood into his mouth in long, steady pulls causing your nerves to alight with sensitivity.

you feel every part of you become tender, your breasts full and heavy, and just begging to be touched, your cunt squeezing tighter around him, and clit pulsing steadily, until even the very tips of your hair feeling the barest brush of air is enough to make you moan.

and then you're cumming. you can't even warn bram, nothing but broken sobs spilling out of you as you spasm around him so violently it almost pushes his cock out of you, warmth drenching inbetween your thighs messily.

he groans, and then he's cumming too, spurting thick loads of creamy white ropes into your walls, so much of it that it begins to seep out of you in small rivulets.

you whimper, trying to squirm away from the warm pulses filling you up so steadily, feeling so full you can barely breathe, but he's not done, seemingly endless hot gushes of white continuously painting your insides.

"f-fuck bram.. i can't..." you manage to sputter out, but your pussy betrays you, sucking him deeper to milk every last drop he has to offer, which is a lot.

his head tilts back, baring his fangs, red pupils dilating until nothing but his irises are showing, shooting ribbon after ribbon of cum until he's shooting nothing but pure blanks.

and it's only then that he finally pulls out, panting, fangs glistening with the sheen of your scarlett blood painting them.

you gasp as his large, cold palm comes down to your lower abdomen before pushing, gushes of thick, white cum instantly dripping down between your legs.

he smirks at that. "that's centuries' worth of cum, my dearest. and as the one who freed me from my confines, you are the one who has to take it all. now turn around, 'm not done."

[obsesssedblerd]

ok hear me out: Given what I've already said, I feel like I have to at least submit a defense for why I still think Satoru is redeemable lol. First, I imagine reader already knew he was arrogant before they got together. And I can see a justification for his frustration and why he would lash out, he is under a lot of pressure, people do ask him to do a lot (gojo's daily schedule that gege shared?? crazy), and I'm sure he does feel like he can't take a break w/o someone needing him for something, which is annoying!! And yes he is the strongest and is capable, but that's a mindset thing and everyone has lashed out at someone that felt safe, because you assume they are not going to leave -- it's just unfortunate for him that his consequences ended up being so dire. I just also think those are the only kind of consequences that he would learn from. He doesn't ever really think anything is his fault, and if reader and students hadn't almost died, I don't think he would have really ever change his behavior, just continued on an "apologize for the behaviour instead of work on improvement" path. So obviously the consequences needed to be serious, however their jobs are dangerous and they could technically always die on a mission, so I would also argue that its sort of not.. that serious...? (DONT COME FOR ME PLS) I'm not eloquent enough to explain what I mean by that properly, so that's just gonna have to be enough.

I think that reader would absolutely need space bc who wouldn't?? I certainly wouldn't be able o look at him without resenting him for a while. But without other longstanding relationship issues, I can see a world where I would personally come to accept it? If Satoru expressed genuine remorse (and ideally took some time to think about what his issues are stemming from instead of taking it out on reader...), accepted that space was required, and showed he was more present/attentive with the people who actually rely on him, I would miss him!!! and probably would rationalize "well, technically I could always die". Now, those are a lot of hypotheticals and assumptions that we don't know, I just wanted to provide an example of how/why I think it could still work.

I truly think that depending on a persons priorities, a lot of things can be worked through/forgiven, but of course that is person to person and not everyone is going to feel or think the same way, no matter what the outcome may not be what everyone wants and that's just how it is no one's wrong for wanting one or the other.

omg I'm so sorry for the essay, this could all be completely irrelevant anyone, since you're gonna make what you're gonna make, I just felt like I needed to express its not completely delulu to forgive any of them. I'm just a happy ending kind of person at heart I fully and openly admit I am a sympathizer tho, so there are plenty who would read this and think that's not good enough to forgive lol

some parts of this post were a part of my thought process when writing pt four (and five tbh) 🩷

[suffarustuffaru]

Fate is on your side today! Meet Otto Suwen, a simple man with the simple dream of opening his own store, while the only obstacle in his path is fate hating him so bad that his luck needs to take a shit on him constantly. But the real question is: is his misfortune really just bad luck, or is it his own actions getting in his way too? The answer is yes. Oops Swein, a “simple” man, only has two modes: so sweet you forget how annoying he is, and so annoying you remember why fate hates him. Wielding green hand-me-downs from his Astrea-loving grandpa and a punchable smile, Otter ping pongs between everything because he is only straightforward once in a blue moon. Need help running from danger? Ottoto is here to save the day, but not because he likes you or anything! He was just there too, so he saved you as a supplement to saving himself! Need some money? Sure, this money totally isn’t even his anyway! Need some nudging to get out of your shell? Certainly! Being in a near death experience in front of you should do the trick to help you open up, because he already knows you’re wrapped around his finger! Need help you didn’t even ask for? Of course! He’s going to end all your enemies now. What, you want him to tell you his backstory? It’s easy, he’ll just cut out the part where he was exiled, there’s an assassination hit on him, and that time he accidentally burnt down a bar, and that other time some people accidentally fell off a cliff he was conveniently on! Is it walking in darkness, or purposefully turning away from the light? To Otter, it’s basically the same thing, he’ll just deny that the latter exists to clear his hands yet simultaneously wallow in guilt-not-guilt. His dream is only simple because everyone who loves him expects him to fail—not only because his luck shits on him, but also because he has every addiction in the book except for weed because his little bro already got that one. So don’t even worry about it! Ottobro is a simple, normal guy who is definitely fully honest in his evaluations of himself, has self-worth that isn’t defined by his laundry list of vices, and consistently Does Not require mental gymnastics to keep himself deceptively functional. Just remember: when he says he’s bad, he’s good, and when he says he’s good, he’s bad. When you write him being good, always remember he can and will be worse. When you write him being bad, always remember that he usually has good intent that will then be warped by his laundry list of justifications. Tis the Swain way—love is business, business is life, and being warm and calculated is how one shows affection. Anyway, his theme song is Akumo no ko. I will now be hunted down shortly after writing this due to exposing the rot underneath Audrey’s cardboard cutout soft boy image. The moral of the story? Do not put superpowers that have killed all previous holders of it + merchant ideals into one person or you will make a being of mass destruction—I mean. Uh. Sugar, spice, and everything nice.

hello re:zero fan. in front of you is a re:zero character. describe them and who they are as a person without mentioning or angling your analysis around subaru natsuki.

[langernameohnebedeutung]

.

[fragmentedblade]

The "Dan Heng is Dan Feng" dogmatics annoy me a lot. It entirely brushes off one of the most interesting and prevalent questions posed by the game, incarnated by several characters and stories that give the question different hues with different potential answers, and a constant also in HI3, like a thread waving the two games together

[wellthatschaotic]

neurotypicals are so frustrating,, i keep forgetting that "can you do x" means "go do x"

[ratatatastic]

okay FIRST of all you cannot just TEASE that bobby was speaking from experience u menace!! luosty being a nightmare is so endearing but then i had to do a full brain reset at maffhew using lundy as a knot toy, that’s diabolical and true god bless! now i’m here begging sasha to reach the end of his metaphorical rope (pour one out for benny, maffhew is gonna be more insufferable not less when it happens) okay cool luv how we’re throwing the Yap back and forth

i can and i will we like to have twists and turns around here it adds a certain pizzazz if you will

i like to think when bobby doesnt want to spend his heats alone (which he usually does not for any lack of partners but sometimes he just does want to spend it alone as a goalie who missed scf practise to haunt the local beach for a bit is wont to do) he treats it like a lottery because its bobby ofc he does he doesnt have any particular preferences and anyone is honoured to be a part of it that theyre clamouring over each other to be first in line for heat privileges and like ofc sasha has been involved he knows how to treat his goalies well

and bobby would have more of his heats with sasha but sashas pretty adamant about not taking up his time

"No, you should spend more time with others," Sasha urges, already shaking his head to dissuade further dialogue. It's been how many times he's said that ever since Sergei brought it up. The tea has gotten cold by now, both of their mugs forgotten in front of them.

"Who will take care of Captain?" is all Sergei says back. The resounding silence is answer enough, the way Sasha diverts his gaze in shame is a treat though. "As I thought. Then I spend heats with others if you spend rut with me."

"Seryozha..."

"Sasha," Sergei answers back evenly.

"You make this difficult," Sasha sighs out.

"Not supposed to be easy." And concerning their Captain nothing ever is. "You spend ruts with me if and when you can. I'm not going to force you."

Because Sasha doesn't spend his ruts with anyone—at least not regularly. He doesn't mind helping out with heats, quite honestly if his Omegas don't have anyone else he's happy to step in. But his own ruts are spent mostly in solitude sans a stray packmate here and there but even that's rare. Sasha is private and that privacy extends to his own biology. If he barely invites the team over to his house, who's to say he invites someone over for his ruts? Sergei can relate though, to that isolation, it's why he offers.

Being alone together is better than being alone apart.

"I—..." Sasha's starting to run his fingers through his hair, obviously frustrated with how this conversation is going but his face doesn't give much away. It's only his fingers tightening as he combs his hair back that really signals anythings amiss—his scent is as even as ever at least to an untrained nose. Sergei can start to smell the hints of bitterness permeating the air—like the tea that's boiled over in front of them because they forgot their tea in the midst of this, leaving the strainer in for far longer than they should've. It's over-steeped, but Sergei has always left his tea in for far longer that he should've. Jam usually sweetens it enough, he finds.

"Just know I'm option like Aaron and Luosty. Sasha, you treat us so well. Let us treat you."

It could be hours that crawl by or it could be mere minutes, the only accompanying sound to the silence is Sergei's stirring, his spoon hitting the side of his mug in a rhythmic lull until eventually, eventually Sasha looks up again.

Defeated, he slumps his shoulders and nods. "Okay."

Sergei blinks, not quite expecting how easily Sasha gave in, he was expecting more convincing, more back and forth, more... well, just more. "Okay to spend rut?"

"...okay to spend rut..."

And if anything there's a particular reason why Sasha's last resort is a warm body during his rut. For someone who's so controlled, who's emotional highs at most reach mild in front of the cameras when he can help it—he's quietly intense.

Emphasis on quiet. Stress on intense. Which is the per usual for him, he's always quietly intense. But the focus is on something completely different, not hockey, not being a good captain or a good pack leader—it's on finding the nearest wet hole he can sink into.

Sergei can't say he's too shocked when Sasha pushes him onto his back, catching his ankles with a heavy hand to bully his legs up by his ear—he's a goalie, he's flexible after all, it doesn't faze him—he even lets out a hushed trill that his Alpha is using him as he likes, as he told him to. Not that Sasha needed any encouraging in the first place, he practically herded Sergei onto his bed, pushing him along, the second his rut started to first hit him.

In place of laying bites at his neck—a neck covered with a neck guard that Sasha urged him to put on—he litters marks elsewhere, and he's liberal in them. His canines dropping down means he's itching to place them somewhere, anywhere; Sergei's soft skin is a good a place as any.

The first knot is not so bad, Sasha for the most part is pushy but not overbearing. By the third, Sergei can't even shift to get more comfortable because he's met with a low growl rumbling from behind. A stern warning, despite the fact Sasha's knot has gone down considerably enough for Sergei move without tugging on it. So Sergei waits, waits until his member softens enough it can slip out before he attempts to shift again—he's met with the same growl, this time a lot more pointed, a nip leveled at his shoulder to stay still. Really the first thing Sasha has said the whole time.

Sometimes he wakes up with Sasha licking at the back of his neck, tongue wetting the polyester cover of his neck guard, making it stick even more to Sergei's already sweating skin, breath coming out in puffs that further dampen it. His hips nudging against the back of his thighs insistently as he waits for Sergei to come to enough. Sometimes he doesn't wait at all, arms encircling his hips as he pants into his ear, setting a punishing pace from the start and there's not much more he can do but take it. Despite the whines that get forced out of him from how tender he feels—Sasha merely shushes him, hips quickening their pace.

There's not much rest to be had when Sasha is adamant that he warms his cock even if Sergei is limp from exhaustion, crying out as he pulls him back.

In the moments of reprieve even that doesn't last long when Sasha finds that his seed is leaking out and the only solution is to stuff a few fingers inside when Sergei is already sensitive enough.

It's a lot, Sasha is big, his knot is big, everything about him is big and unapologetic and and

"...sorry..." Sasha breathes into his shoulder blade when he's finally conscious enough to not rut in between Sergei's thigh for the fifth time that night. In fact his hips are unmoving, his grip has gone terribly lax they feel soft instead of punishing.

Sergei reaches back to pat at his head, a soothing gesture, "Welcome back, Captain."

-

"Be prepared. Captain will work you hard."

Matthew laughs, "Yeah? I hope so."

Sergei just smiles serenely, pats him on the shoulder and doesn't elaborate whatsoever. Matthew will know soon enough—like they all have.