#LOL I just love Foggy's expressions in this

[sbd-laytall]

Matt Murdock, Everyone!

Bonus:

[healmyhrt]

⌗ out of it, c. sturniolo

chris x fem!reader

summary: chris gets really drunk and begins to say things you and him both know he doesn’t mean.

disclaimers!: alcohol use, cursing, short

a/n: this is based in like the future like, chris has his own place n everything lols | also, we all know chris wouldn’t say these things guys, don’t take this to heart <3.

“chris?” i call through the front door. he had been ignoring my texts and calls for hours so i thought i should come and check up on him.

i unlock the door with my spare key. “chris, im coming in. okay?” i push the door open, and see a trail of beer cans to the kitchen.

following them, i meet a very drunk chris. he removes a bottle from his lips, and stares at me. “well, shit.”

i step closer to him, taking a look at the mess around me. alcohol everywhere, cigarettes burnt out on window sills.

chris looked terrible. his eyes were red and foggy, his hair was a mess, and his shirt had stains on it, probably from the alcohol.

“chris,” i start. he interrupts me, “come sit.” he guides me over to the couch, swiping beer cans off of it so i can sit. i sit on the clean couch arm instead. “are you okay?”

he tilts his head at me. “dont say that. im fine.” i purse my lips together, and finally sit next to him. he leans in to kiss me, and i pull away.

“what? so now im not good enough to kiss you?”

“its not that, chris.” i look around at the mess that’s surrounding us, then back at him. “what’s going on?”

chris takes another sip to stall away from the question. i stare at him, with worry in my eyes. “dont fucking look at me like that.” i can hear the anger in his voice. chris gets up, walking around.

i stand, not taking my eyes off of him. “chris, you aren’t okay right now.” i walk over to him. “let me get you the help you need, baby.”

i attempt to place my hand to his shoulder, and he dodges it. “dont fucking call me ‘baby’, matter of fact, you should go.” his words slurring.

“im not going anywhere.” i reply. chris stares at me, an angry expression across his face. “get the fuck out.”

my eyes start to water at his words. but i try to remember its just the alcohol talking. “no, chris—”

“LEAVE!” he shouts at me. chris stomps toward me, his breath reeking of alcohol. “i love you, chris.” i whisper out.

“yeah? well i fucking hate you.”

i stay silent, and gently bite my bottom lip as tears trickle down my cheeks. “you don’t mean that.” my voice cracking as the words leave my mouth.

“yes the fuck i do.” he enunciates each word as much as he can. chris gets in my face, our noses basically touching. he looks down at me, anger in his eyes.

“i hate you.”

i shake my head as tears begin streaming down my face. chris scoffs. “i mean it with everything in me. i hate you. i don’t need or want your help, and im better off without you. so, go. leave.”

i lick the tears up, and look at him again. “say you don’t mean it, and i’ll go if that’s what you really want.”

chris slams the bottle onto the ground, glass flying everywhere. i hold my head in my hands, and start. crying uncontrollably.

i guess this reality checked him, because his face immediately turned soft. “baby?” i look up, my eyes now red from crying.

i fall into his arms, and his squeezes me tight. he moves us slowly over to the couch, and lets me cry into his shirt, (that smelled like alcohol).

“i am so so unbelievably sorry, baby.” his eyes begin to water. i sigh, and hug him again. “say you didn’t mean it.” i whisper into his shirt.

“i would never mean anything i said. i do not hate you. and i am 100% not better off without you.” he frowns.

i kiss him, and cry into his lips. chris tucks my head back under his chin, and cradles my head. letting me sob into his shirt, he begins to do the same.

“i was so out of it.”

[bangsinc]

This but it's abt the spot

💕Getting home tipsy and giving the Spot little drunk kisses (Mini Fic!)💕

You have no idea the little gasp I gasped when I saw this in the best way EVER. Like I ran around in a little circle I was so excited to write about this shut UPPP

No warnings, reader is just drunk lol

The clock struck midnight as you hazily stumbled the hallway of your apartment complex, your footsteps uneasy and half of your weight leaning against the walls. The city lights cast a warm glow as the night settled in, and the light warmly cast through the windows.

The Spot was doing what he usually did when you were out and about.. waiting for you to come back reading. His gaze was locked upon the pages, his eyes tracing the lines of text with an intensity that mirrored their deep immersion. With each turn of the page, his fingers danced delicately, flipping and caressing the paper as if they were coaxing secrets from the very fibers. The world he was in was quickly sucked away though, as the sound of a lighthearted and infectious giggle rang through his head. The hole on his face widens in both suprise and excitement as he sets the book down, closing it delicately and setting it on the opposing coffee table.

The door opens quickly, and you lightly stumble in, accidentally knocking into the doorframe and quickly apologizing to it.

As your eyes scan the room, they are immediately drawn to your adoring boyfriend, his lovesick expression evident as he rushes to support you. Spots gentle touch elicits a giggle from you, and you find yourself leaning into his embrace as he guides you towards a nearby couch. A rush of excitement surges through you, and you can barely contain your joy at the sight of him. So much so, that in a little moment which you don’t exactly regret, you place a small and rather firm kiss against the side of his face.

“O..oh! Y-y/n!” Was the most your brain chose to register in that moment as you kicked off your shoes and continued to pepper little kisses along what used to be his face. A giggle escapes his lips as he revels in the silliness of the moment. It's an act of affection, an unconventional declaration of your love for him, that just by looking at him you’re so stricken and can hardly contain yourself.

You head to bed not long after your display of affection, and the Spot takes a moment to look at himself in the mirror with what could only be described as nothing but pure adoration. His hands trace against where your lips had once been, and it only confirms the fact that you love him despite what he looks like. The night passes, and the spot decides to go to bed alongside you, refusing to wipe off or remove the marks your lipstick had meant, because to him it was a reminder that you didn’t mind showing that he was yours and you were his.

You awaken in a foggy daze, a sharp headache piercing your forehead, eliciting a small, uncomfortable groan. Your bleary gaze instinctively shifts towards your boyfriend, only to discover his face adorned with an array of lipstick marks. Initially, a blush of embarrassment tinges your cheeks, but soon, that feeling dissipates, replaced by a goofy amusement that lights up your once confused expression.

[sohnric]

LEGO HOUSE — j. changmin

pairing: ji changmin x fem! reader

genre: roommates au?, friends to lovers. hurt/comfort, angst, fluff. both hopelessly in love with each other. it's the readers birthday <3

wc: 1.5k

warnings: crying lol. nothing much ig 😭

a/n: thank u best friend @csenke for beta reading i love u the most 😚 this is inspired by that instagram post changmin posted yknow which one i mean..,,,. And also a pinterest post that I loosely quote in the first 2 paragraphs

spin-off (epilogue) to my fic partners in crime!

Ji Changmin was never looking for perfection. He likes wrinkles in his sheets, coffee stains at the side of his mugs. His hair a little wind-blown. The apartment a little messy when he comes home– socks on the floor of the shared bedroom, the dishes laying unwashed in the sink. The flowers in the vase wilted and all dried-out, petals falling to the wooden table. The cramped space of the kitchen, your hips bumping every time you try to cook something together for dinner. The dirty window staring back at him when he tries to look outside to the street. The mornings when he wakes up a little too early, alongside with your alarm, and watches you get up from the bed with a grumpy expression on your face– it’s always hard for him to fall back asleep on the days when you work the morning shifts and he does afternoons, but he doesn’t find it in him to be annoyed.

Ji Changmin was never looking for perfection. He likes your face– even with the presence of dark circles that appear after you’ve worked a little too much and slept not enough. The hair you leave in the bedsheets and all around the apartment, leaving him sweeping it up once a week. He likes the freckles on your back and the chapped skin of your lips when he studies them late at night, taking you in. He likes it when you leave a message for him in the foggy mirror after taking a shower, never complaining about the smudges of the reflective surface. 

He likes things a little messy. He likes things a little well-loved.

He never wanted a perfect life– he said goodbye to that ideal when he was just a little boy. All he ever wanted was something better. Something more. His own place, away from all the prying eyes and expectations. Something beyond his reputation. He never wanted perfection– he knew life wasn’t that fair.

You were both so young when you behaved 25– now, he realized, you’ve grown into tall children. 

Ji Changmin unlocks the front door of your shared apartment at 7 in the morning after coming home from his night shift. In his hand is a cardboard box, and after discarding the pack of cigarettes onto the little table in the hallway and fishing for his lighter, he opens it and takes the little candle in between his fingertips. A click, spark, then a flame, the candle being stuck back into the white icing. Taking his shoes off, the box is back in his hands as he takes careful steps inside of the kitchen, knowing you’ll be there already, awaiting his arrival.

That’s the routine you two have. You only work morning shifts– Changmin, on the other hand, does both afternoons and mornings, and once a month, a week of night shifts. He comes home the moment you wake up for work and you silently say hello to each other in the quiet of your apartment. You got the place together after you ran away– one bedroom, one bathroom. Getting a lease was easier as a pretend couple, but somewhere deep inside of his soul, Changmin knew you were so much more.

Your back is turned to him, shoulders hunched over. The room is dark, the only light providing you two being the low light of the rising sun behind the window. He’s sure you heard his footsteps, but he still clears his throat and puts on a show for you, lowly singing the birthday song to you. When you turn around to look at him, the note he left at the kitchen table for you before he left for work in the evening is secured in your grasp and tears are dripping down your cheeks– a little by little, then all at once, like a waterfall, overwhelmed with emotion.

Changmin imagines today to not be easy for you. It’s your first birthday without family. You’re turning into an adult, with no supervision at all. There’s no one to reminisce over how tall you’ve grown and how much your face has changed over the years– only him. Only him and the lump in his throat as he watches you crumble in front of him, helpless. 

“Blow the candle out, it’s starting to drip on the icing–” he says, having you laugh and shake your head at him. It works, though– as you take a step towards him and do as he says, closing your eyes momentarily to wish for something. Changmin won’t ask what your wish was, but he could probably guess.

“Happy birthday, dear,” he mumbles, putting the cake and the box onto the kitchen table– just next to the mug stain in the corner. 

“Thank you,” he hears before your arms are thrown around his neck, chest on chest. You hold on to him for dear life, your nose burrowing into the crook of his shoulder. He gently cradles the back of your head, fingers slowly raking through your hair. His heart squeezes on itself when he feels your body tremble in his hold, making him try his hardest to calm you down. “For everything, that is. For sticking with me.”

Not every day will be easy– Changmin knew what he was getting himself into. It’s okay for you to walk on unsteady ground, though, it’s okay for you to look behind your shoulder after every step of the way. It’s okay for your world to break and crumble under your feet– Changmin will keep the pieces of you safe, like a building kit, and help you put them back up together again, the way they were before, like a lego house. Truth is, he doesn’t really have a tutorial or a guide, he doesn’t own a reference picture to how you were before everything– he met you at a very strange point in your lives– and so you might end up in a shape you didn’t have before. But that’s okay, because you’re back in one place– and although it may look and feel a little awkward at first, you will get used to it. You will grow to love it– just like he does. The new shape of you has character– it shows what you’ve been through. And that is fine. Beautiful, even. 

He’ll love the new shape of you just the same way he loved the previous one. Maybe even more– since now, he has his hand in it. He’ll love it more gently. More deeply, as well. He’ll love the new structure as it grows, and he’ll love it even with its missing pieces and imperfections. He never once gave up on you, and he would never dream of doing that now.

“Always,” he whispers.

You pull away from him, but still stay within reach. Your hands rest on his cheeks, thumbs glazing his cheekbones. The boy feels his breathing catch in his throat, wordlessly awaiting your next move. Looking at you almost always puts him into a trance, but today, he feels almost enchanted with your sheer presence. He feels grateful for your existence– he guesses this is the sentimentality parents feel on their children’s birthdays. He knows he’s not really the one you’d like to hear the words from, but he says them anyway. “I’m really proud of you.”

It happens without him even noticing– you standing on your tiptoes, answering the heart’s calling. The chapped lips he’s spent countless nights watching are pressed against him, a reply to the wandering question in his brain of how they would feel against his. He breathes you in: all of you. All of your worries and your troubles, all of your joys and your smiles– of which you press one against his lips, making his knees weak and heart beating raw in the palms of your hands.

You’re like everything he’s ever dreamt of and more. Somehow, he thinks this bond was there in the stars for him, written into his fate. He was bound to meet you, one way or another– and if he could turn back time, he’d do the same things, over and over again, just to end up in this moment with you. 

To an outsider’s eye, what you two have is not perfect, but he was never looking for perfection anyway.

Perhaps, he thinks, perfection is relative. Perhaps, this is what defines perfection for him: you two in your shared kitchen, holding each other, your birthday cake and the handwritten note he left for you watching you take another leap together– and truth be told, he doesn’t even know when it all happened. For him, falling in love with you went without him even noticing– a little by little, then all at once. One day, he was poking fun at you in the familiarity of the police office, and suddenly, he did all he could just to protect you.

(As long as I’m alive, you will always be loved.

Happy birthday to the best partner in crime life I could ever wish for.)

[kosije]

a/n: straight out of duolingo university lol. (plz lmk abt any mistakes) my official allegations of miguel being a switch.

sub!miguel who is completely at your mercy.

so needy. will actually tear up if you tease or edge him

never whimpers… usually

it takes a bit to wear down his stubbornness, but it’s soo worth it

needs to cum so bad he’ll beg :( poor baby

"ooh fuck-so good, baby" he groans out, riding out his orgasm in your mouth. when he feels you speed up, he looks almost worried.

"h-hey tómatelo con más calma, amour! 'ts too soon to g-ahh-go again, i'm sensitive!”

you mumble something unintelligible around him and all it does is send shock waves of pleasure up his spine. you must know what you do to him, right? he's biting his lip so hard he can taste blood and his eyes are getting foggy with tears. he has half of a mind to pull you off him, but it just feels-

"so good! r-right there~,"

your tongue savors his slit while your hands stimulate the rest of his cock and massage his balls, making him run his hands through your hair, desperate and whining to cum again. so when you pull your mouth off and wipe your face with your hand, he crumbles.

"qué pasa? w-why'd you stop?"

"did you really think it'd be that easy?"

he shivers when he heard your voice. why'd you have to choose now to be so mean? and why is it making his cock twitch?

shoving his pride to the side, he takes your hands into his shaking ones and kisses around your knuckles and wrist, reveling in the small smile tugging at your lips.

"m sorry.'m so so sorry. please don't leave me like this." he pouts, bringing your hands back to his aching tip, and your smile is toothy and borderline menacing.

"didn't think you'd cave so easily. maybe i should give you something a little more than a reward."

by the end of the night, he's thanking you with his head thrown back, adam's apple bobbing, and face covered in tears and sweat, trying to hold off his orgasm as you ride him into oblivion.

softdom!miguel who is sickening-ly loving.

will live in between your thighs

ride his face and he’ll cum around nothing

pleasure dom!!! and will praise u soooo sweetly <333

he's usually like this with you, doting and caring. whether his firm hands hold your thighs over his shoulders as he eats you out like he's in a trance, or lets you ride his tongue till you pass out from pleasure (like tonight), mans will give you what you need. spit and slick running down his chin as he dives impossibly deeper into your cunt, making your back arch dramatically and thighs threaten to close.

"taste so good. siempre tan bueno para mí. déiame hacerte sentir bien."

as lewd and dirty as he looks with you on top of him, he finds it extremely intimate. you riding out your orgasm on him, your smell and taste intoxicating him, his eyes are rolling back and hips thrusting into the hollow air, desperate for any stimulation.

but you’re his angel, so when you see how needy his cock is, you wrap a sweaty hand around him and give him what just what he needed to cum immediately into your palm.

when he’s done, he’s kissing all over your thighs, praises falling from his lips as he looks up at you with a love struck expression wondering if you’re ready for him to fuck you silly ;)

meandom!miguel who is RUTHLESS!!

terribly mean because he’s in a bad mood

slapping, biting, choking, the whole 9 miles.

even his compliments are degrading

(me next, please)

harshly slapping your ass as he rails you, other hand pressing your face deeper into the mattress as you sob that it’s “too much.” when he’s tired of your sobbing, hell roughly grabs your neck to lift you upright while still drilling his long cock into the spot that has your eyes rolling back.

“huh? it’s too much? was such a little slut before and now you can’t take it? such an ungrateful whore. you’ll take it tho. want me to fuck you so deep that you’ll be round with mis niños, huh?”

“i asked you a question. use your voice or i’ll stop.”

“y–yes! yes! wanna be pregnant with your kid! wanna–right there–make you a daddy!”

with the coil in his gut threatening to snap, he runs his hands down your body to rub circles on your clit as he bites down on your shoulder.

“i can’t hold it! need to cum–oh please keep fucking me right t-there!”

“such a needy slut.” his laugh sends heat straight to your core when his lips move to the shell of your ear. “anda, cum for me.”

you’re not naïve enough to think he’s done with you. his thick fingers scoop up his cum and shove it back into your cunt, making you jump and whine. he can’t hear anything over the thoughts of how pretty you’d look also as a mommy (>_>)

[nih-nih]

How I get so deeply tangled with Bancoran and Maraich

Well this is gonna be a long post about my personal feelings toward Bancoran and Maraich's relationship. English is not my native language so pardon me for the mistake I make.

I first knew of them thank to a tweet that mentioned them as the founding fathers of Yaoi and Mpreg lol. I got interested so I looked for their information on gg and this was what I was introduced to:

Back then I thought their relationship was some kind of quirky and it was there for comedic purpose only. I honestly had no hope for the relationship to actually be fun and serious. Like, a cheater seme and jealousy uke, totally not my cup of tea. Yet I went in anyways, just to see how it goes.

I started reading the first few chapters and actively looked out for Maraich, I though Jada was Maraich, Bjorn was Maraich, every bishounen with curly, light color hair was Maraich lol, the manga's style didn't help much either. I continued read the Eng scan and thought the manga was fun, but still, I was only there for Bancoran and Maraich's relationship, I didn't really care about Patalliro and other characters lol. My mistake.

Then gradually, the relationship that I thought was just for comedic purpose turns out to have a whole subplot that developed their complex characters and relationship! They did not just meet and fell in love for the sake of it, even though their meeting was a fated one and not a very good first impression but still! They properly went through enemies to friends, then through dating stage before living together, then the whole Foggy London Airport arc, vs Keen, Figaro arc! Throughout the stories, their relationship develops so much. And the tiny, little details here and there from the mangaka can actually help us readers imagine how they live together offscreen. Man, I didn't even know since when I got emotionally attached to them. They are not just there; I actually feel like they are living out their life!

Maraich went from someone who became an assassin just so he can survive to someone who is readily to die for Ban, follow him to even hell and afterlife. He started off kinda insecure in his relationship with ban, afraid that he might become a burden to Ban or being thrown away. When he got jealous in the first few volumes, you can see that the most he did was crying and throwing small things at Ban. After he knew that Ban would not abandon him, he became more confident in his beating lol. Now he won't even be afraid to throw Ban out of their home or beat him severely for cheating. I see that as a development lol.

And Bancoran? He remains a playboy but up to vol 17 he actually did try to stay faithful, though it ends up not as we hope. He sees playing with beautiful boys as entertainment just like cigar or drinking wine. If you look at the details, you would think his character is going nowhere. But look at the big picture, you can see how more and more he became homely (?), especially after Figaro was born. I cannot describe how I feel about his development, it is something you recognize when reading the manga. I just really love how possessive he is with his poker face, how he instantly recognizes a fake Maraich by smell (Maraich is always smelled flowery and fresh according to him lol), how despite the tattoo on Maraich's neck, he loves everything about him. You would think Maraich is the more jealousy in this relationship, but Ban is even more possessive and jealousy, he mostly expresses it though actions.

After the Eng scan, I read the RAW with my broken Japanese knowledge and boy, I was so invested and hungry for more that I went to pixiv to read the fanfics written by Japanese fans there (they are really good btw, Godly level even).

True that their relationship is toxic and problematic but that is for another post, another day. I just wanna guss about them now. I just love how they complete each other, how devoted Maraich to Bancoran and how despite being a playboy, to Bancoran, Maraich is special and his only companion.

I only hate how in the later stage of the manga, the mangaka uses the cheating-jealousy gag too much, it is honestly unnecessary.

I have a lot of things to say about them but I guess I should divide them into parts so it could be easier for me to write lol.

[morganbritton132]

oh boi I love your fun silly Eddie Munson Tik Toks but I have to say I am obsessed with your headcanon of Steve getting disowned and going to live with Eddie and Wayne. Do you have any thoughts on how Steve and Wayne would get along? I feel like they would have gotten grumpy over the same things (i.e Eddie's bullshit lol) and really would have bonded over it.

Anyways, getting to read the tik tok saga has been one of the highlights of my year, thanks so much for all of your posts! Hope you have a wonderful 2023!

Boy do I have thoughts but they are disjointed.

Eddie showed up at the trailer one day with a Hawkins High varsity basketball duffel bag thrown over his shoulder and the Harrington boy in tow and said, “Steve’s staying with us now.”

Wayne – no questions asked, no questions needed – said, “Yep.” And that was that.

Steve had been over a lot prior to being kicked out but moving in brought about a tense amount of awkwardness until Eddie declared at dinner one night that Steve was his boyfriend. Wayne, who has had eyes this entire time and kind of figured that, just nods along and says, “Ain’t nothing wrong with that.” The awkwardness faded after that.

Steve and Wayne are opposite ends of the same person. They have a lot in common. They just have to get through the generation gap and class differences, and the easiest way to do that is through their love of Eddie. They both love Eddie so much and see the best in him, and they both are fiercely protective of him. They are a united front when Eddie is doing something stupid. He kind of hates it, kinda loves it.

Early on, Steve tries to pay rent, but Wayne just tells him to save the money and work on getting himself a new car since his parents kept the beemer. Eddie gives Wayne a look like he just said the worst possible thing, but Steve is just like, “Nah, it’s alright. I want to contribute.”

Wayne gives back most of the rent money when Steve starts college.

Steve is an early riser so he’s often awake when Wayne gets off work with breakfast already made. Eddie’s a chronic insomniac so sometimes he’s awake. When he’s not, Wayne and Steve typically eat in silence or sometimes Wayne will ask about a game that was on the night before.

Wayne gets the rundown of Steve’s head trauma through experience and then copes. He witnesses Steve have a seizure, realizes that’s why he’s been in no hurry to replace his car, and starts driving the kid to work in the morning. He witnesses a migraine, buys blackout curtains. Learns that Steve will someone leave the house in a foggy state, buys bells for the door to alert someone. Eddie was already talking about getting a service animal at this time and Wayne was mentally trying to work their finances in order to afford it when Steve says no.

Corroded Coffins’ popularity starts to take off while Eddie and Steve are still living with Wayne. Eddie is away more often touring or recording music, so it’s just Wayne and Steve in the trailer. They know how to live with each other by this point, but the time together brings them closer. Wayne is a major player in getting Steve to go to college.

I love that headcanon that Wayne and Eddie are from the south. Sometimes they’ll use some explicitly southern phrases and Steve picks up some of those expressions while Eddie is away on tour. Eddie thinks it’s hilarious.

Not related to Wayne but when Steve’s mom tries to pay Eddie off, she shows up at his little table in the woods like she’s going to make a drug deal. He uses half the money to take Steve on a trip and gives the rest to Wayne because Eddie, at this point in his life, does not have a bank account.

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[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

I heard filthy asks and so I am here 🌚 (this is partly for me because I have been DOWN BAD for this man this comeback)

I just know Jongho is a sadist and fucking loves to overstimulate you. Overstimulation and dumbification is his thing for sure. And especially if you’ve been a brat then he’s definitely just gonna leave you tied up with vibrator so you come as many times as he wants you to. He focuses on your expressions through the pain and pleasure, carefully watching the tears stream down your face from the overstimulation. He gets a kick out of watching you writhe and whine, crying from the countless orgasms he’s put you through, yet still begging to be able to touch him. Or, at least trying to beg. It’s a bit hard with your mind too foggy to form full sentences. “Oh doll, you were just begging me to stop, no? I don’t think you can handle my cock, pretty girl is too fucked dumb already, huh?”

ah sorry for the rant love, but Jongho has just been hitting different lately

jeez I should just start writing fics at this point lol

thanks babe 🤠 dunno how i’m supposed to cope with THAT but thanks 👍🏻

i agree though. like if he gets you like that, you’re fucking done for. my masochistic ass is t h r i v i n g at the thought brrrr

[ceterisparibus116]

Hey. Why do you think Karen Page is a character people seem to hate so much? I’m fairly new to the fandom and I’ve seen people even badmouthing the actress as well, which is awful. I am curious to know what you think about it.

Welcome to the fandom! 💖 I'm so excited for you and I'm super happy that, despite being newish, you're interacting like this. (It took me an embarrassing amount of time to be brave enough to send asks to people lol.)

Also, this is such an interesting question.

I want to address the attacks against Deborah Ann Woll first. No matter how anyone feels about a character, it's absolutely despicable to attack the actor over it. Most of the attacks I've seen have been about her looks, or about her acting abilities. It's fine to critique acting abilities, but looks should be off the table. But even the critiques of her acting abilities aren't actually critiques - they're just, like you said, badmouthing, with little to no analysis. To me, that indicates that they're hating on the actress just because they're emotional (angry or annoyed) over the character.

So why do people get so emotional over Karen?

I think the easiest explanation is: ship wars. Some people struggle to enjoy their favorite ship without tearing down competitor ships. And since Karedevil is one of the few ships that was actually canon (albeit temporarily, but S3 ended with them being pretty flirty again), Karen becomes a huge target.

Another explanation is that Karen appears to be written inconsistently. Personally, I don't think she actually is (except perhaps in The Punisher; I'm not sure because I've only seen S1 of The Punisher). The argument goes: "She loves Daredevil until she finds out Daredevil is Matt, and then she treats it like an addiction, despite being supportive of Frank."

The counter-argument, to me, is clear: she still loves Daredevil, but she hates being lied to and put on a pedestal. Matt did both of those things. Frank (for the most part) did neither of those things. Her issue is with Matt, not Daredevil (which she makes explicitly clear in S3E1, but people still apparently confused on this point). With that in mind, I think she's written consistently in an incredibly nuanced way.

Another explanation is that Karen is a character who doesn't learn from her mistakes. She's rash and reckless and she lies just as much as Matt, and more often than not, people end up dead because of it. Ben is the most obvious and chilling example. Yet even after her actions get Ben killed, and she expresses serious guilt and remorse, she continues to do the same thing. That makes people wonder: is she stupid? Or, worse: was her guilt and remorse only an expression of her personal grief, and not actually the result of evaluating her actions affected Ben?

This, to me, is the most fair critique of Karen, and I sympathize with people who dislike her because of it. I will point out, however, that Matt and Foggy also repeat the same mistakes. It's obvious with Matt; it's talked about less often with Foggy, but I roll my eyes every time he acts like Matt and Karen are being reckless for wanting to operate outside the law - despite the fact that every time they limit their plans to operating inside the law, people end up dead. This makes me wonder: is Foggy stupid? Or does he simply care more about keeping Matt and Karen alive (and out of jail) than he cares about other people dying?

The actual explanation, I think, is that Daredevil is a show about very flawed and surprisingly realistic characters. People rarely shake off old habits and bad ways of thinking quickly. No matter how many times you tell a person that their friends are there for them, they (like Matt) may continue to push people away if that's their coping mechanism. No matter how many times you tell a person to ask for help before doing something alone, they (like Karen) may continue to go rogue if that gives them some feeling of control over their lives. No matter how many times you tell a person that the systems they want to trust are broken, they (like Foggy) may continue insisting that everyone should trust the system if they continue seeing the world through a lens of privilege.

Can it be frustrating to watch? Absolutely. Is it a good reason to hate a character? I'd say no, but I guess that's more subjective. Is it a reminder to all of us to be gentle and patient both with ourselves and with other people when we find ourselves making the same mistakes over and over? I hope so!

I've said before that I sometimes feel self-conscious over the fact that, in my longer stories, a character's growth is rarely linear. It's usually what I think of as a spiral. They make a mistake, they learn from it...and then the stakes rise, and so they fall back on that old mistake again, since it's comfortable and familiar, rather than trying a new approach. Or the character tries to blend the old mistake with the new approach, to varying degrees of success. Sometimes I worry that this feels repetitive, or like the character isn't learning.

But from the comments I've received, people seem to appreciate it more often than not. They resonate with it and relate to it.

So now that I think of it...maybe the root problem is simply that Daredevil doesn't have author's notes telling us why Karen (and Foggy and Matt) are making the same mistake again. 😅

Or maybe people are more compassionate towards characters in fanfiction than on TV? Or maybe people are more compassionate towards the main character than the side character? Or maybe it's misogyny? Or maybe people are just less compassionate towards Karen in particular because she threatens their favorite ship.

Aaaaand this post has come full circle.

[glystenangel]

hii can i request an eren x reader oneshot of "unrequited" requited love trope pls🥹? just both of them heavily pining e.o but not making any move on it. fluff & slight angst?

have a good day & welcome back xxx

"Unrequited"

Eren x GN!Reader (Modern AU)

tags/warnings: fluff, slight angst, friends to lovers but before the lovers part LOL, pining, quote unquote unrequited love that's actually v requited, T EN SI ON, heavy pining, coffee date, wild af assumptions and a strong case of the misunderstands, & excessive use of italics bc i'm only human

~1.7k words

thanks for requesting, i hope you like<3

_________________

The thing is, Eren likes you.

A lot.

A lot, a lot, a lot, a lot.

But, it’s one-sided.

Whenever you two hang out and in spite of your insistence that you were having a good time, you occasionally get this pained look on your face as if you would rather avoid being seen with him. Let alone just be with him.

It’s not only that, but any time he tried to make any semblance of a move on you, you would give him this pleading look. Shiny eyes and your throat all tense with the breath he could tell you were holding.

Like you were begging him not to tell you.

Because, Eren supposed, you both knew the answer.

He chokes down that heartbreaking assumption every time, bowing his head and changing the subject because the absolute last thing he wants to do is fuck up your already precarious friendship with each other. Sure, you’re perfectly lovely to him half of the time. Affectionate, even. Any other half of the time, you seem…uncomfortable. Unreadable. It reminds him of days that are cold and foggy. He can squint at the shapes outside of his windows, tinted gray from the weather, and guess each vague form to be houses or people against the dim horizon. Though there was no guarantee that even one of those blurry predictions would ever be accurate. He agonized regularly about the fact that the cause of your discomfort is most likely him. Maybe he got a little too close to you sometimes. A bit too flirty.

To be honest, Eren knows that the only way to preserve your friendship is to remind himself constantly that you don’t like him back. That the fog doesn’t have anything in it, just illusions of how he wishes you could be together.

Today, he’s indulging himself freely in the delusion that you’re both on a date.

You had agreed to meet him for coffee. Innocent enough, but when he sees you he can’t help but become overwhelmed by the mere sight of you.

He almost feels guilty, because this is just a totally selfish effort to gaze at the undeniable light that floods into your eyes when he asks about something you like, spot the corner of your mouth lifting before he makes you laugh for the umpteenth time, and to hear the soothe of your voice saying mhm as you listen to him tell a story. You’re beautiful to him, in everything you do.

You smile back once your searching eyes land on his, shimmering emerald and thickly veiled reverence.

Right then and there, Eren decides he doesn't give a shit that he’s being selfish.

That excited, happy expression on your face is more than enough for him.

_________________

You like Eren.

It’s one the easiest things you’ve ever admitted to yourself.

You like him a lot, in fact.

So much so, that you have been secretly cultivating a deep fear that you will ruin your friendship with him. To accommodate that fear and keep your daydreams in line, you do your best to keep hanging out with him and acting like you enjoy just being friends. Even if it means swallowing your feelings at every brush of his hand on your arm or not allowing yourself to look too long at the handsome planes of his finely structured face. It doesn’t help that he’ll suddenly lay the charm on you at random times, trapping you in his seagreen eyes and making you freeze at the most undoubtedly meaningless, offhand compliments that he slips into conversations.

It really didn’t help that he was so nice to you either. Any problem you had, he was there, helping you calm down and talk through the emotions that kept you from feeling your best. Any errand you needed done, any door that needed opening, any walk you wanted company on, Eren was there and offering whatever he could to make your life easier. But that was just Eren, he did that for all of his friends. You don’t think you had ever seen him allow Armin to make any bookshelves by himself or miss any special event that involved his sister Mikasa. With you, it was definitely no different.

Despite your best efforts, he was so attentive that he seemed to notice you trying to keep him at arm’s length, and he often asked if he was making you uncomfortable.

Yes, You always thought to yourself, Yes, you are. I’m in love with you and it’s driving me crazy.

And then you would provide him with a wordless shake of your head.

Truthfully, the careful check-ins he did with you only made you like him even more. It consistently showed you that he respected you, and left your heart beating fast. Caring for others always seemed to be hardwired into Eren’s nature, and you adore that about him.

The reason you had agreed to meet with him for coffee today was purely self-serving. You had seen him a few days ago, but you missed him so much that you had cleared your entire schedule for the day to have coffee with him for as long as possible.

The cafe is busy and the scent of grinded coffee beans is heavy in the air, but you pay no mind to any of it as soon as you catch sight of Eren and begin walking towards him.

You wonder if he missed you too, or if he had invited you just because you said you were available. What if you weren’t even the first person he had thought of? The thoughts make you briefly frown, your feet stopping right before the table.

Eren quirks up a brow in concern, and you note the crinkle in the olive toned skin set in the middle of his dark eyebrows.

“Everything okay?”

The prompt instantly makes you ashamed, how could you have thought of him so poorly? Of course he missed you and thought of you first, it just probably wasn’t in the way you wanted him to think of you. You two are good friends after all. 

Having someone like him in your life is plenty of happiness for you, even without your feelings being reciprocated.

A smile finds its way back to your face and you slide into the seat across from him, “Everything’s great.”

_________________

When you both have your fill of coffee and pastries crusted in sugar crystals, Eren offers to drive you home.

As he steals glances at you from behind the wheel, and you do the same from shotgun, a comfortable silence descends between the broad curve of his shoulder and the elbow you have casually laid across the glovebox.

“I’m glad we’re friends.” He suddenly says, the radiant red of the traffic light lining his face with maroon shadows.

“Me too.” You beam at the sentiment, “But, what makes you say that?”

The light turns green, and you can’t tell if you hear him or the tires sighing as the car regains motion.

“I just…love being around you.” He begins, more gently than you expected, “Even though we’ve been friends for so long, I’m still learning things about you that surprise me.”

You don’t respond, too stunned to, and Eren tilts his head to peer at you over the curve of his cheek.

“In a good way.” He adds quickly, “I admire how you open up and the way we can have fun doing nothing together. Getting coffee’s not as entertaining with other people.”

“Thank you, Eren. I have fun with you too. You’re a very passionate person and it motivates me to live life as freely as you do.”

An embarrassed chuckle escapes him, and he shrugs while keeping his hands on the wheel, “I try.”

The proximity of your elbow to his side feels too narrow to be friendly, but you chance inching a bit closer anyway, “You do.”

Another red light has him slowly braking to a pause, and he turns his chin to face you.

All you can hear is the soft rumble of the engine as Eren stares at you.

His eyes were his most complimented feature, but you don’t think anyone searched as hard for his thoughts in them as you did.

Stray umber strands of hair fall next to his eyes, and the angled grit of his jaw intensifies with every passing second. You wish he would do something, anything besides letting your mind wander and your stomach flutter. 

The movement of his cupid’s bow as he finally talks forces your attention back onto Eren, “I wish you knew..how hard I really do try.”

You puzzle over his words for a moment. The rough echo of them is only interrupted by the next breath he takes, which is deep and expands the muscles of his chest until fluorescent light pools across the material of his shirt. 

“Eren, the light.” You whisper, your voice sounding foreign even to you as you register the hushed words.

Eren blinks, and then you both startle at the car behind you honking their horn.

“Fuck, sorry.” He mumbles, averting his eyes and pressing forward.

The rest of the car ride is quiet, but you’re too busy calming the race of your thoughts and heart to notice if it’s awkward or not.

Once you recognize the road in front of your home, Eren drops you off and walks you to your door, where you wrap him in a hug that he returns just as tightly.

You set your mouth by his ear, “I know you’re trying.”

Although you remain unsure of what exactly he is trying to do, you know that if anyone is trying at all, it’s Eren. 

At that, he relaxes completely in your arms, “I hope so.”

Darkness fades your vision as you close your eyes for as briefly as you can convince yourself to, appreciating his warmth and preparing yourself to be released from his embrace. 

After a few more moments, you let go of Eren and offer him a shy wave.

“We’ll see each other again soon.” 

Eren’s hands find their way into his pockets, and the boyish grin that’s driven you mad since you met him crosses his features, “See you soon, beautiful.”

_________________

Maybe liking each other was a lot for the both of you, but neither you or Eren had any plans of stopping.

_________________

End Notes:

thanks for requesting this!! it really inspired me and i wrote this faster than i normally write🥰 might be a bittt more emo than you wanted, but i couldn't help myself😭😭 appreciate you and hope you enjoyed <333

[pandoa]

Hi Pandoa! Congrats on your follower count :DD Could I request for the event, Tulips with Leona and the setting be In The Rain. Those two on the prompt list really remind me of that one scene in 2005 Pride and Prejudice.

Tulips ~ “so what if i’m in love with you?! is that so wrong?”

Plumerias ~ “run away with me”

~leona kingscholar x gender neutral reader~

warnings: some cursing, very minor angst if you'd qualify it as angst? it turns around very quickly tho so no worries lol

hello hello anon!! tysm for your lovely request! i do hope it was alright that i combined your rq with another darling anon <3 you two had very similar requests for leona, so i hope that's okay! i still kept that pride and prejudice vibe tho, i loved it sm!! have fun reading hehe~

♡the heart rains with its lover♡

You couldn’t believe the audacity of the beastman in front of you. 

Even after every outburst, argument, cold glare, and obstacle thrown at the two of you, he was still there, ignorantly doing all that he wished like the choices he made did not carry any sort of grave consequence whatsoever. He was a selfish prick. A bratty little prince you had hoped to stay away from. 

You loathed the thought of just speaking to the pompous man. 

Hurriedly running past the forming puddles on Night Raven’s flooded campus, strenuous drops of rain trickled down your skin as you escaped to an open field with Leona trailing close behind you. Thunder clapped within your surroundings with a resounding clamor that echoed through your ears. The clouds in the sky gathered together in a spiteful manner, with you and Leona trapped underneath the overflow of raindrops soaking your drenched form. The chaos befalling just over the horizon accentuated your livid mood, and you bitterly welcomed it with every raving fiber of your body as you and Leona came to a stop in the middle of the storming field—the frustration in your tones being so sonorous it could be heard thousands of miles away across the hazel waters of the Isle of Sages. 

He did it. Leona had confessed. Albeit quite casually for an admittance of one’s sincere affections, but a confession nonetheless. Earlier, the two of you were gathered in your own circle of friends chatting amongst yourselves in Night Raven’s lively cafeteria until the low, unexpected voice of the Savanaclaw housewarden played throughout the room—mistakenly catching the attention of many other students in the process. 

“Okay, so I like (Y/n), Ruggie, what of it? That doesn't mean that I’ll go down on my hands and knees for ‘em, geez!”

The room went silent at the man’s outburst. A few had stared. You felt their creeping gazes irritate the spine of your back as you stood there, appalled and distraught, looking up to the unfazed lion standing a couple feet in front of you. Whispers were heard vexing the dissonant room as students murmured about the lion prince’s sudden declaration. All of their piercing looks were pointed towards you as you were faced with seas of judgmental glares. You were exasperated at what you had just overheard. You assumed he had hated and thought of you as a nuisance with the way he had always scoffed at you during your visits to the school’s botanical garden. But it was no matter. You claimed to hate him as well, anyway. There was no way that what he had said was true. It had to be a cruel joke.

You did not trust him.  

“Why would you say that?!” you shouted as you returned from your recollection of the events that occurred just a few minutes ago, arguing with the loud pittering of the rain as you raised your voice even more. “Right there, in front of everyone! That was quite uncalled for, and you know it!”

Leona bitterly turned to you, retorting your exclaims with a sarcastic vein. “Oh, well, I’m sorry for being honest for once in my life! I’ll never say it again if it bothers you that much!” The young man said as his face twisted into an expression of aggravation.

“‘Honest?’’ you doubted his foggy sincerity. “In what world have you ever been honest, Leona? For all I know, what you said earlier could have been some sick lie you created to make me act a fool of myself!” The thunder above then crashed and roared, while strong winds caused even the trees to sway in an uncontrollable rhythm. Your flowing locks of hair were now absolutely doused by water as rain continued to pour down the ground like Mother Nature herself had controlled the weather based on your raging emotions. You and Leona did not seem to care for the shaping storm, however, as you were much too focused on each other to mind what had gone on around you.

“So what if I’m in love with you?!” Leona shortly gave out, “Is that so wrong? Do we have a problem here, Prefect?!”

“Yes, we have a problem because I love you too, you asshole!” Freezing in your place on the empty field, you paused at your own impulsive words. No, wait! (Y/n), what are you saying?! You weren’t supposed to confess too, damn it! You mentally scolded yourself. “I…I mean—What I meant to say was—”

“Then run away with me,” the lion prince interrupted. “I swear this is the craziest thing I’ve ever said. Just escape with me for today and I’ll prove how honest I am.” Leona earnestly looked into your hesitant eyes and for the first time ever, seemed as if he was entirely true to his word. It moved your heart in ways you did not think were possible.

Had this really been the Leona you knew…?

“Sevens, I can’t believe I’m saying this—” he said as he uncharacteristically dragged a hand across his face—covering a small rosy hue tinting his cheeks. “Come with me before I change my mind, herbivore. I’m not saying it twice.” 

“Please just… give me a chance, okay?”

a/n: anon i'd also just like to add that i am blaming you for my new fixation bc i had never watched or read Pride and Prejudice before, but for this specific request i watched the 2005 movie and it was the most amazing thing i have ever stumbled upon like i think the story bewitched me body and soul- i am forever in your debt anon cuz once i have the time to actually read jane austen's books i can guarantee that i will make it my whole personality omg i am in love idk why i haven't read her work sooner THANK U SM ANON

[babyarmybabbles]

Barista Soulmate (Dream Part) a1 d1

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Reader owns a café in Seoul, known for being private, discreet, and delicious among those in the entertainment industry. The owner happens to be the final piece of the well-known 7-member soulmate cluster and global superstars BTS. Not that anyone knows that.

Word Count: 1,034

Notes: This is really just one really long stream of consciousness as I tried to flesh out some ideas. Way too much exposition, not enough BTS lol. It doesn't capture the vibe I want at all, a bit to factual. I'll have to tap into my education in poetry for this when I come back to it lol. I think a lot of the exposition here will be saved for when BTS and Reader actually start talking lol

Warnings: None that I know of?

Masterlist Link <3 | Prev Part Link c: | Next Part Link [not written </3]

You open your eyes to a meadow. Today, the weather is beatific, the soft rustling of the breeze caressing the grass peaceful and calming. The shade of the single massive oak tree shields you from the sun overhead and keeps you comfortable. Warm, but not hot. Cool, but not cold. You look out and can see for forever, if not for the fuzzy edges of your vision and the gentle fog obscuring the ground.

A soft snore comes from your lap and you look down, already smiling indulgently. You’re met with the head of a man, fast asleep and not to wake any time soon. Around you are six other, similarly slumbering, men in various stages of sprawled out and cuddled up on the large picnic blanket.

You don’t remember when you started having this dream. It must of been somewhen during high school, but you never could remember the timing. The meadow hadn’t been a meadow back then, just an endless expanse of foggy white and a ground made of clouds.

The grass still felt like clouds when you laid on it, you knew. It always would, you hoped.

The development of this place had been as gradual as your own growth. The grass had been first, the first time the fog had receded enough to see more than your own hands in front of your face. It must have been around the time you’d discovered your love of baking.

You’d felt so alone and lost back then. Scared of the future, of change and of time. It’d been your grandfather who’d pulled out the dusty cookbook of the grandmother you’d never known and taught you how to create magic with just her ghost by his side. You could never truly express how much you loved him for that.

Baking had saved you, given you love and direction and purpose. The day you’d realized you’d bake for eternity if given the chance, you’d gained ground, literally, in your dream.

It probably meant something you should speak to a therapist about, but this place was yours, and you would never share it. Another snore sounds out, this time from somewhere at your hip.

Well, you correct, you’d share it with your boys. No one else though.

To this day you had no idea who or what these seven men were meant to be, but they were yours. That’s all that really mattered to you here, in this simple space.

You’d found them not terribly long after you’d gained your ground. You’d been walking around, examining the tiny wildflowers that had begun popping up, on a day that the fog had cleared much more than it usually would.

They’d been sprawled all around, none closer than a few feet from the others. You’d found yourself unable to move them, and unwilling to leave them, alone and vulnerable. You’d sat yourself right there in the middle of them all, determined to keep watch over them.

You weren’t sure what you were protecting them from, but you’d been unmovable in your conviction that you would. That was the day your oak tree had begun to grow, long before you had ever dreamed of any sort of sky.

The first time it had rained in your dream had been a terrible affair. Your oak tree had still been just a sapling, offering you no shade from the harsh, ripping wind or the freezing rain. You’d started that dream sobbing into your knees. About what, you couldn’t remember now, but it had felt like the world was ending at the time.

After a moment you’d remembered about the seven men around you and realized that if you felt so horrible in the rain, then they must have too.

You weren’t always able to see the boys. Often they were obscured by the fog that obscured everything else in your dream. That day, in particular, you could barely see your own hands, let alone the boys scattered around.

Still, you’d stumbled around blindly, finding each one and covering them with soft blankets you didn’t remember having that somehow never got wet from the rain. You set up umbrellas to cover their faces and as much of their bodies as you could, and prayed that they’d be able to weather the storm with you this way.

Then you’d gone back to your post in the center of them all, curled up on the ground, and wept.

Ever since then you’d realized you could care for them, even if they only ever moved by some force you didn’t understand. You’d made sure to visit each one where they lay, soothing worry lines and talking about everything and nothing. Every time it stormed you were there to shelter them as best you could, and every sunny day you made sure nothing disturbed their peace.

Over time your oak tree grew, offering you shelter of your own, and the boys migrated closer and closer together by the day, centering on your long-held post between them. There were thousands of millions of tiny caring gestures between you now, though you doubt these men would ever know.

When they’d gotten close enough for you to touch all of them at once without leaving your spot you’d gained your little picnic blanket, an extra layer of comfort to the soft fuzziness calm days in this place bring.

These days your oak tree was so large that you couldn’t wrap around it even if there were three of you. You’d often end up with one man or another in your lap, snuggled into your hip, or otherwise draped over you. The others were often in different arrangements of snuggling amongst themselves or sprawled out in the sunlight. They remained deep in slumber, not one of them stirring for anything.

You absently pet the hair of the man in your lap and earn yourself a contented sigh. You can’t stop yourself from humming the tune of a lullaby as you rest your head against the trunk of the tree at your back.

You feel yourself being lulled to sleep yourself and smile at the prospect of a new day. Your days always started wonderfully when you had this dream.

[onemagpie]

Aaaaah your art is crazy amazing! I love it all- the MattFoggy, the studies, even the characters don't know. Do you have any tips for drawing Matt and Foggy btw? I'm impressed by how you draw the tv versions so they still resemble the actors without having to be totally realistic.

Hi!! Thank you so much for stopping by and leaving such a sweet message <3

My tip would be doing some quick studies of the characters, analyze their facial features from different angles, with different expressions, observe shapes and little individual quirks every person have. Maybe try exaggerating some of these features or simplify them :D And please, don’t be too... strict about these things, it’s more about getting the vibe of the character, an impression of them, than being super faithful.

Imo both Charlie and Elden have distinctive appearances, Charlie has big forehead, expressive eyebrows and crinkly eyes, just slap red tinted eyeglasses on his face and ta-dah it’s Matt!! Elden’s face is oval, he’s blond so his eyebrows are barely visible, he has a button nose, and I prefer him with his antiestablishment hairdo lol add a frown on his face and that’s a Foggy for me!

These are the things I noticed, but maybe you’d see something more, something else and be able to illustrate them better! Good luck and happy drawing! :)

PS Here are my first sketches of them! :D

[ly-art]

My newest Solavellan chapter (no smut, lol)

I present to you chapter 21 of my solavellan fanfic! A little sneak peak will be under the link of it!

One look into her eyes made him shudder. They were golden, emanating power—and death. She looked like an ancient goddess, ready to reap the souls of those she had killed, who had incurred her divine wrath. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Amatisha seemed like an entirely different being and yet... something familiar tugged at his memory. As if he knew this feeling, but... it had been so long ago. But his thought of a goddess remained. A goddess. Yes, there. It was so faint, no normal person would have noticed, but Solas did. A thread of... Mythal. If Mythal had her hands in this... *What have you done to that child?* He took a step towards her, the urge to heal her, to relieve some of her pain and suffering, but he hissed when the sensation of death gleamed in her eyes again, turning the gold dark, foggy. Her lips curled into a cruel smile, forming words without voicing them. She seemed to say that he was next. It was the same expression she had when they had saved her in Val Royeaux. The same darkness lingered in her eyes now, the same hate directed at *him*. But Solas didn’t recoil. This wasn’t her. Something was controlling her, something that deemed him a threat. Time was of the essence. He wouldn’t disappoint her. Not again. Solas had to do something, *now*. This *thing* was trying to overtake her, ready to unleash even more havoc if no one intervened. Solas couldn’t let that happen. Knowing what he was about to do was dangerous, risking everything to reveal his true identity, every instinct screamed that he couldn’t just *leave* her like this. He locked eyes with the mad creature behind those cruel, twisted eyes and summoned all the power he had managed to replenish. He felt it roar beneath his skin, and he focused it all on her. He recoiled at the wildness of it. It felt like a cornered animal, lashing out at everything that came too close. No control. Nothing but chaos. Amatisha was losing. Solas zeroed in on that wildness, baring his own teeth at it until it retreated, slowly. He calmed it, steadying her magic, step by painstaking step, giving her back some of that much-needed control. The shadow fought, clawing and kicking to stay, but then it finally vanished, and the golden color drained from her eyes. Her usual fade-like eyes returned—unfocused, empty, exhausted.

And just because I love this part I will put it in here!!

But seeing her sitting there—broken, hurt, and trembling—his heart had stopped beating. She couldn’t die. He wouldn’t let that happen. His arms and legs wobbled visibly as he had used up almost every bit of ancient magic left in him to help her. And still, he willed every bit of stubbornness into his body to keep his voice steady so he could scold her, ask her what the hell she was doing. And in his rage, in his terror, he called her vhenan. His heart. *I must be going mad.* Shock froze him in place as Amatisha’s eyes widened before fluttering closed. Exhaustion had taken its toll, and she sank toward his chest. Solas’s arms hung limply at his sides, realizing what he didn’t want to acknowledge for quite some time. It seemed his exhaustion had loosened the lock he kept around his heart and his tongue, releasing feelings and words he shouldn’t, couldn’t utter. This wasn’t just fondness. He... loved her. *Loved her.* *Him.* The person who had been called ruthless, cruel, *heartless*. A monster. The Dreadwolf, the frightening commander you didn’t want to meet on the battlefield. He had never fallen in love, with no one. What he had with Viera had been special, yes, but not like this. Never like this. His ears were ringing, the realization too much to bear, his heart too much to bear. Slowly, he looked down at the amazing and foolish woman who had been sobbing, telling him she was broken. The hollowness, the trauma simmering in her eyes. Yet, all he had seen was someone who desperately sought healing and was trying to hold herself together. Trying to do something worthy. And in the process, she had captivated his heart. A smile bloomed on his face, warm and loving. He couldn’t stop it. How could he not love her?

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

(I apologize in advance this is a bit lengthy, and will contain spoilers for those who haven’t read part 5 of The Princesses & The Playboy)

So I just read part 5, and I have to say, how you manage to leave me speechless after every chapter is one of the things I love about you and your work (I literally had to sit down and gather my thoughts before sending this lol). I’m always on the edge of my seat wanting to know more! I loved Dean’s talk with Eric and him being able to confide in Dean about his childhood a bit, genuinely Eric is such a good guy and he deserves so much happiness. I’m also very happy to see Y/N’s writing music again, even though what brought on her songwriting was less happy. I really liked Dean and Eric standing up for Y/N against her parents, even when Eric wasn’t supposed to interfere, her parents needed to hear that, hopefully it’s a wake up call for them. I’m glad that Y/N has Dean and Eric though, they are two people in her life who notice her strength but are able to protect her in times where she feels she can’t be that strong, and I’m relieved she wasn’t mad at them for defending her. Also the small mention of Eric going to therapy makes me extremely happy, I hope that he’s able to work everything out in time, not even just everything with Sloane, as much as Sleric is a big ship in my heart, I hope that Eric is also able to work things out outside of everything that went down between them and that he’s able to start moving forward in more aspects than just the relationship between him and Sloane, if that makes sense. Lastly, I cannot begin to express how excited I am to see where everything goes with Sam and Max’s plan, it’s starting to work and now they just have to wait. I’m so nervous for them, and actually on the edge of my seat, despite having a feeling they’ll both make it out okay (or hoping at least). Thank you for another amazing chapter!! 🥰

(Also one small side note, I feel like Eric’s physical appearance has been mentioned once or twice but I’m a little foggy with remembering it. So I was wondering when you write for him what do you imagine him to look like? I feel like I have a bit of an image of what he looks like in my head but I’d love to know what you envision as the creator!)

Hey! I LOVE long asks so please don't apologize!

I love when I get to the part of the story where I can starting weaving the threads tighter and other things start becoming apparent. Dean and Eric's growing bromance is a favorite of mine, as is trying to get Eric and Sloane to actually talk to each other honestly but that's easier said than done! At least they're both taking baby steps in the right direction!

The reader needs someone to be her bad guy for her and it was so needed with her parents! Dean's really in tune with how things for him could have been much different if his family treated him the way they do reader. And yes she is writing again! Hopefully something happier too with some inspiration from a certain green eyed guy?

Oh man I can't wait to show you what happens with the plan! Everything's been building up to that party and it's going to explosive when we get there!

I didn't really give a lot of detail on the big guy huh apart from he's tall I think lol. Well if you've ever seen Friday Night Lights, the main actor that plays Coach Eric Taylor (cough cough) is probably a pretty good match for him!

[cheolhub]

for science what are your favorite scoupsie hcs 🤓 i don’t think i’ve seen anything like this yet but i’m kinda lowkey obsessed with the idea of loser cheol 🌵

OKAY I DID TWO PARTS TO THIS ASK LOL —

MY FAVES HCS? HMMM

MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE HC is that cheol loves fucking in front of mirrors. especially if you had said something mean abt yourself, he literally won’t let it slide. he’s sitting you in front of a mirror, split open on his cock n he’s like, “no, baby, open your eyes ‘n look. look at me fuckin’ my pretty baby—“ AND IF YOU CLOSE YOUR EYES, HE THREATENS TO STOP.

he also makes you repeat after him n everything T-T “who’s my pretty baby?” “i-i am.” “good, say it to me now.” “i-i’m your p-pretty baby.”

i think hes a really good boyfriend in general. never fails to tell you how much he loves you or tell you how beautiful you are. wants to eat all of your insecurities bc to him, you’re literally a perfect doll and you deserve nothing but the world

i also like that he gives off sugar daddy in a sense where he just spoils the fuck out of his partner. if you want or express even the slightest interest in something, it’s yours before you can blink— price doesn’t matter bc you are priceless to him

he’s a soft dom through an through. like he loves praising you for taking him :( loves the way you babble for more of his cock even though youve cum countless times :( loves making you go stupid all for him while he just coos and tells you how much a “good baby” you are

EVEN THO HES A SOFT DOM, i think he’s also #1 brat tamer. he will not put up with an attitude and is so quick to put you back in your place. he’ll entertain you for a lil, but the second you start getting testy, he’s bending you over and making you apologize and beg if you wanna cum

PUSSY EATING KING !!!$$!!!!!! HE JUST KNOWS WHAT HE’S DOING

hmm, i also think he’d be really possessive [which is so fucking hot to me] and he’d say my in front of any pet name. [i.e. my baby, my angel, my princess, etc.]

personal preference, but i would enjoy calling him sir and i think he’d fuck with it

———

AS FOR LOSER CHEOL?! i’ve literally never thought of him as a loser, just someone that can ruin me but maybe i can think of something…..

maybe ? english lit major loser!cheol who nearly cums in his pants every time he sees you. he always thinks you don’t notice him staring at you from across the lecture, but you do, and you think it’s really cute that he has a crush on you. you give him a chance because, yeah he’s kinda dorky and really good at english, but he’s… definitely not ugly. quite the opposite, actually. and the more you think about him, the more you think about him with his head between your thighs, foggy glasses framing his face??

so you stop him after class one day and he looks so shocked, about to stutter out an apology for no reason. before he embarrasses himself, you ask him if he can peer review one of your essays for the class and he … generously (and nervously) agrees.

so now you’re in your dorm and cheol’s trying to read your words on the page, but they’re starting to blur together because he can smell you. he can smell your sweet perfume on you and on your bed sheets and now he’s hyperaware of the fact that … he’s in your room where you sleep and where you shower…. naked… in the bathroom over…. how you probably have spent nights with your fingers in your cunt on the very bed he sits on.

and it’s almost too much, but he literally loses it when your hand touches his arm. “cheol? is it bad, you look like you’re in pain?”

“fuck-“ he curses under his breath, the quietest whimper coming out and you piece it together. he’s turned on. “i-i need to—“

you smile, feeling flattered. “i can take care of you, cheol… if you proof my paper… i can offer my mouth?” you suggest and when he gives you wide eyes, you panic over the fact that you may have misread the situation. “i-i, nevermind- sorry, that was w—“

“please?” he breaths out, moving the paper fro out of his lap to reveal the large tent in his pants. “please, i’ll do anything…”