#Like I know nobody says it like this and they don’t mean it like this but that is the impact of what they are saying

[itneverendshere]

saw that jj is readers neighbor. and i see rafe absolutely hating him, until he realizes that you take care of him like he’s your baby brother, especially when things get a little rough at his house

omg yesssss! it's kinda funny that he's beefing with a teenager. thank you for the request! 🩵🫂 alsojj never met milo before bc he only showed up after the kid was already sleeping, cause luke had a tendency to get rowdier at night 😣.

you're on your own kid - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

There’s no way in hell JJ Maybank is sitting on your couch while you’re cooking away. 

Rafe swears he’s lost his mind. Maybe he hit his head harder than he thought when he was out on the boat earlier because what he’s seeing doesn’t make any sense.

There’s no way JJ is sitting there, his legs propped up on your coffee table like he owns the place. Like he belongs here. In your place. Your sister's place.

For a second, he thinks he’s gotta be dreaming. But nope, it’s real. The smell of whatever you’re cooking from the kitchen hits him in the face, and JJ’s laughter echoes through the living room.

This is your house, your space, and somehow JJ’s sitting there like he’s been here a thousand times before. He’s gotta say something.

Rafe clears his throat, trying to keep his voice normal but it comes out tight, strained. “What the hell’s Maybank doing here?”

You don’t even look up from the stove, just wave a hand in his direction, like it’s no big deal.

Like he’s no big deal. “Relax, baby. He’s just having dinner.”

“Dinner?” Rafe practically chokes on the word.

JJ catches the look on his face and smirks, leaning back further into the couch cushions.

“What, never seen a guy eat before, Cameron?”

Rafe scoffs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Dinner? At your place? Since when are you and Maybank this close?”

His eyes narrow on JJ, sprawled out on the couch like he’s got nowhere better to be. The guy’s even wearing his boots, dirt probably all over your cushions, and Rafe’s practically grinding his teeth at the sight.

JJ just smirks, because of course he does. “Jealous or somethin’, Cameron? Didn’t think you’d care.”

But then you walk over with a plate and set it down in front of JJ, and Rafe watches in shock as you ruffle his hair, so casually it’s like second nature to you.

Like you’ve done it a hundred times before.

JJ’s eating like it’s the first meal he’s had in days, and Rafe’s brain is still trying to catch up with what the hell is happening here.

You and JJ? Since when? Rafe’s stomach twists at the thought, because why would you even care about a guy like JJ? 

The guy’s got that scruffy look, bruises on his knuckles and faint ones on his arms. Rafe’s seen it before, the evidence of fights and bad nights. He knows what goes on at JJ’s house. He’s heard the stories. The arguments that spill out onto the streets late at night, the way JJ disappears for a while and comes back worse than before.

And then it hits him.

You’re not just letting him crash here.

You’re taking care of him. Looking out for him in ways that nobody else does, making sure he doesn’t completely spiral with a father like Luke Maybank.

JJ speaks up, grinning with his mouth full of food. “Her food’s so good, you gotta try it.”

“I’m her boyfriend, you think I haven’t tried her cooking?”

He’s being ridiculous, knows he’s not really jealous of a seventeen-year-old. It’s not that he’s threatened by JJ—hell no. It’s more that...he doesn’t like sharing you. Even if it’s just dinner.

He’s proud of you, though. Always has been. That big heart of yours, helping out some kid who clearly needs it.

Rafe crosses his arms, leaning against the doorway. “Since when did my girl become a goddamn soup kitchen?” The words come out harsher than he means them to, but you just glance over your shoulder and roll your eyes.

You know him too well by now.

“Baby, it’s just dinner. JJ’s had a rough day.”

“Yeah, well, so have I,” Rafe mutters under his breath, but he doesn’t push it. He can’t really. 

He knows the guys has been through it, and yeah, his dad’s a piece of work. But that doesn’t make it easier to see him sitting here, all cozy in the life Rafe’s tried to build with you. Yeah, maybe you fucking spoiled him because know the mere thought of another guy being in your space makes his blood boil. 

JJ wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, “Chill, Cameron. You’re acting like I’m movin’ in or something.”

He remembers being that kid—lost, angry, with no place to feel safe. JJ might be annoying as fuck, a walking nightmare to be around, but Rafe can’t hate him for that. Not really.

“Yeah, well, don’t get too comfortable,” Rafe mutters. He looks at you, softening. “You’ve got a heart too big for your own good, y'know that?”

“I thought you loved that about me?” You tease, turning back to the stove.

“’Course I do.” Rafe crosses the room, sitting on the arm of the couch, close enough to you but still keeping an eye on JJ. He watches as you stir something on the stove, a soft smile pulling at the corner of his mouth despite everything. Yeah, he gets annoyed, but fuck if he doesn’t love you for exactly this. You just have a way of making people feel safe, even the ones that don’t deserve it—or maybe need it most.

JJ leans back, letting out a satisfied groan. "God, that was good. She ever cook like this for you, Cameron?"

Rafe shoots him a look, eyebrows raised. "Yeah, maybe when you’re not eating all my food."

JJ just laughs, completely unfazed. “You’re lucky, man.”

Rafe doesn't answer, just stares at him, half of him wanting to tell him to get out and the other half knowing how good it must feel for the kid to have a moment where he doesn’t have to worry about anything. Rafe’s been there—different situation, same lost feeling. He looks at you again, knowing it’s you that pulled him out of that place. And now here you are, doing the same thing for JJ.

With a sigh, he slides off the couch and walks over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. “You know you’re too good for him, right?”

You laugh, leaning back into him. “For him? Or for you?”

Rafe presses a kiss to your shoulder, smiling despite himself. “Both. Definitely both.”

His lips linger there for another second before JJ’s speaking again, “Alright, y’all don’t have to be disgusting while I’m sitting here trying to digest. Seriously, have some respect. I’m a guest.”

Rafe’s jaw tightens, but he can’t help but laugh under his breath, his forehead dropping against your back. “You gotta be kidding me.” He sighs dramatically, loosening his grip on you and stepping back, but he’s still got that smirk. “You hear that, baby? We’re offending the guest. Can’t have that.”

JJ rolls his eyes so hard Rafe’s sure he’s gonna get stuck that way. “Yeah, you two keep it up, and I’m gonna lose this amazing meal you just made. Not trying to see all that lovey-dovey shit.”

Rafe leans against the counter, arms crossed, shaking his head. “You know, most people would be grateful for a free dinner.”

You toss a dish towel at JJ, which he dodges with a snicker. “You’re welcome to leave, you know.”

“Nah, nah,” JJ says quickly, stuffing the bread in his mouth. “I’m good right here.”  He stretches out again, clearly getting way too comfortable. “But if y’all could just tone down the romance while I’m around, that’d be great.”

Rafe’s still grinning, even though part of him wants to wipe that smirk right off JJ’s face. “You jealous, Maybank?”

JJ gives an exaggerated shrug. “Nah. I got my priorities straight.”

“Yeah? Like what? Getting on my last fucking nerve?” Rafe shoots back.

JJ lifts his hands in surrender, still grinning like a kid who knows exactly how make him lose his temper. “Hey, I’m just saying. Don’t go making me regret this free meal, alright?”

He glances over at you, and you’re shaking your head, smiling like this whole thing is the most entertaining show you’ve seen all week.

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” Rafe mutters, still eyeing JJ. “This is a one-time thing.”

JJ chuckles, unfazed. “Whatever helps you sleep at night. Just remember, I’m your girl’s favorite.” He flashes you a wink, and Rafe’s this close to tossing the bread basket at his head and tossing him out on the street.

JJ’s annoying, no doubt, but he understand, or at least he's trying to, that you’re doing it for a reason—helping the kid out, making sure he’s got a safe place for at least one night. And no matter how much he pisses him off, Rafe respects that. For your sake.

“You keep running your mouth and you’re both sleeping porch.”

Rafe turns to you, offended, “The fuck did I do?”

“You know exactly what you did,” you say, shaking your head. “Always making things competitive.”

Rafe scoffs, standing a little straighter.

“Competitive? Baby, I’m just protecting what’s mine.” He throws a glance at JJ, who’s still lounging on the couch like he owns the place.

“Man, protectin’ what?” JJ pipes up, laughing through his words. “I’m just here for the food and the show.” He gestures between the two of you. “Y’all could make a fortune if you charged admission. People love drama.”

Rafe rolls his eyes. “You’re lucky they’re not charging you rent at this point.”

He’s about to tell him to shove off the couch and leave, but the front door swings open. Monica walks in arms full of grocery bags. Little Milo is trailing behind her, clutching a stuffed dinosaur in one hand and a juice box in the other. The moment he sees Rafe, his face lights up.

“Uncle Rafey!” Milo yells, charging toward him with all the energy of a four-year-old hyped up on apple juice.

He bends down and scoops Milo up, setting him on his hip. “Hey kid. What’s up?”

Milo grins and holds up his juice box. “I got juice!”

Rafe chuckles, “Juice, huh? Sounds like a big day.”

Meanwhile, Monica’s busy setting the groceries on the counter, glancing at JJ sprawled out on the couch. She shoots Rafe a look, half-exasperated, half-amused. “Looks like we have an extra child in the house today.”

JJ, clearly not catching the jab, raises a hand. “Hey, Monica. I’m just keeping the couch warm.”

Milo tugs on Rafe’s shirt, completely oblivious to the grown-up talk. “Uncle Rafe, can I have a cookie?”

“Maybe after dinner, bud,” Rafe says, setting him down gently. “Go help your mom, okay?”

Milo pouts for a second but quickly gets distracted by the sight of JJ. He stares at him curiously, tilting his head. “Who’s that?”

JJ leans over the back of the couch, grinning. “I’m JJ. You can call me… your favorite new friend.”

Milo looks at him like he’s deciding if JJ is cool or just weird. After a second, he grins back. “Okay, JJ. Can I sit with you?”

“Sure, kid. Hop on up.”

Rafe watches as Milo clambers onto the couch next to JJ, giggling when JJ pretends to steal his dinosaur. It’s almost funny—if he wasn’t so good at making himself at home.

Monica, catching the scene, sighs and shakes her head. “Great, now he’s corrupted Milo.”

Rafe crosses his arms, unable to suppress a smirk. “He’s already got enough bad influences in his life.”

She raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Yeah, starting with you.”

Rafe raises his hands in surrender, laughing. “Fair enough.”

You’re leaning against the counter, watching the whole scene unfold, and suddenly, it just hits you.

Rafe with Milo, the way he softens when your nephew runs up to him, lifting him like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Milo’s giggles fill the room and then there’s Monica, half-smiling at Rafe’s attempts to wrangle Milo, even with JJ sprawled out on the couch, egging the kid on.

Your heart feels so full, you almost can’t stand it. It’s one of those moments where everything just… clicks. You try to keep it together, but there’s this warm feeling in your chest, and you blink back the unexpected tears. How could you feel anything but love for all of them in this moment? 

Rafe catches you staring, his eyes softening when he sees the look on your face. He raises an eyebrow, but he’s already smiling at you, “What’s that look for?”

You shake your head, grinning despite the lump in your throat. “Nothing. Just... you guys. It’s... a lot.”

JJ, ever the clown, groans from the couch, “Oh God, please don’t get all mushy now."

But you can’t help it. You step closer to Rafe, wrapping your arms around his waist, laying your head against his chest. “I just love you. All of you.”

Rafe chuckles softly, kissing the top of your head. “Love you too.”

Monica glances over with a knowing look, shaking her head. “Alright, enough of this sentimental stuff. You’re gonna make me cry, and I just got home.”

You stay wrapped in Rafe’s arms for a moment, just soaking in the warmth around you. Monica’s pulling plates from the cabinet, setting them on the table with her usual no-nonsense efficiency. JJ’s somehow got Milo giggling uncontrollably, making goofy faces and pretending to steal his dinosaur every few seconds. The kid’s losing it, practically bouncing off the couch in fits of laughter.

Rafe leans down, his lips close to your ear. “You’re okay?” he murmurs against your hair.

You smile, nodding against his chest. “Yeah. Better than good, actually.”

He pulls back slightly to look at you, his blue eyes scanning your face like he’s trying to read every thought behind it. “You sure? You looked like you were about to cry a second ago.”

You laugh a little, wiping under your eye, even though the tears never really fell. “It’s just... this. All of this. It’s perfect, you know? I don’t know. It feels like family.”

“You really think so?” Rafe asks quietly.

You nod, feeling that same warmth flood your chest again. “Yeah, I do. I love it. I love us.”

He smiles, a little crooked but real, the kind of smile you don’t see too often, but when you do, it hits you in the heart. “I love us too.”

For a second, the noise around you fades, and it’s just you and Rafe, holding onto each other like you’re the only two people in the room.

Then, predictably, JJ ruins it. “Hey, lovebirds! Save that for later. You’re killing Milo’s vibe.”

You both turn to see JJ standing with his hands on his hips, looking dramatic as ever. Milo’s grinning, clutching his dinosaur to his chest like it’s his new best friend. 

“Yeah, stop kissin'!” Milo chimes in, giggling.

You rolls your eyes but pull away from Rafe with a chuckle. “Alright, alright. No more kissing.”

Monica smirks as she finishes setting the last plate. “Don’t worry, Milo. They’ll be gross later when you’re in bed.”

Rafe gives your sister a mock glare. “You’re hilarious.”

She pats him on the back, grinning. “It’s what I’m here for.”

[moonstruckme]

omg mae bae happy bday and congrats on 7k wowie! would you do apple pie, ¹⁰⁾ a six pack of beer and an apology, with steve harrington? <3

Thank you lovely <3

cw: alcohol, spin the bottle

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Steve finds you in the kitchen. You’ve procured a pair of scissors from somewhere, and you’re snipping apart those plastic rings that hold together six-packs. You glance up as he comes in but look away quickly, picking another up off the counter. 

“Turtles strangle themselves on these things,” you say. You snip a corner, the sound short and crisp. “I don’t know why we still use them.” 

Steve honestly doesn’t think much about sea animals when he’s drinking a beer, but he wants to agree with you. “Me neither.” 

“It’s like, we’re supposed to be this advanced society. Can’t we come up with something that doesn’t kill turtles?” 

“Mhm. Probably.” 

“I just think it’s dumb.” You push out a breath. It sounds frustrated, but Steve knows you well. You’re more stressed than angry. He’s not patient enough to wait for you to get around to telling him that yourself. 

“What’re you doing in here?” he asks. 

You look up at him again. Shrug. “I was sick of being out there.”

“You wanna go home?” 

“Do you?” 

It’s a fair thing to ask. Steve’s your ride, so leaving these things is usually a joint decision. But he feels like the question is pointed. “Do you think I wanna go home?” 

“I don’t know.” Some of the stress is seeping into your voice now, your terseness taking on a new hue. “You seemed mad.” 

He was mad (is mad?). He just hasn’t figured out if it’s fair for him to be, yet, so he wasn’t planning on making it your business. He thought that would be the nice thing to do, but you don’t seem to appreciate being left out of the loop. 

“Do I seem mad now?” he asks. 

You cut through the last plastic ring with a harsh snap. “Christ, Steve, I don’t know. Why are you asking me all this?” 

“I’m sorry,” he says, and though it’s automatic he does mean it. “I’m not trying to be mad at you.” 

Your eyes meet his, crushed before you can hide it. “But you are.” 

“Not—” He sighs, jamming his thumb against his brow bone. It’s an anxious habit, a preventative measure against potential headaches. “Not really. Not in a way that’s important.” 

“I think it’s important anytime you’re mad at me,” you say. Your voice has softened and smalled. Steve feels like his guts are in knots. He wants to make an excuse, to explain—It’s not that I’m actually mad at you. I haven’t decided if I should be. So we’re all good, right? For now, I mean. At least until I decide.—but before he get the chance to further fuck things up you ask, “Can you tell me what you’re mad about?” 

Steve drops his hand to look at you. “You really don’t know?”

You wince, and he thinks you do know. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I’m sorry.” 

He feels his brows furrow. “For what to happen?” 

“For it to land on you.” 

“That’s not…it’s spin the bottle. You can’t control who it lands on. That’s the point.” 

You shake your head, almost to yourself. Your fingers are fiddling with the ends of your sleeves. “I shouldn’t have even played. I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have if I’d known that was gonna happen.” 

“What do you keep apologizing for?” Some accidental anger makes its way into Steve’s tone. “Who did you want to kiss?”

You blink. “No one.” 

“Nobody plays spin the bottle unless they want to kiss someone.” 

“Well, I guess I changed my mind.” 

“Why?” 

“Because!” Your voice rises, and you lower it just as quickly. You both glance to the kitchen entryway like the calvary is going to come force you back to that stupid party just because you almost yelled. “Because,” you say, quieter, “it was weird.”

Steve forgets to even try to keep his face in check. He feels it twist with hurt. “It was?” 

“Yes! Everyone was looking at us, and it was like a game—it was a game.” You pull your sleeves over your hands, shoulders winding up tight. “I guess I just feel like that sort of thing should be private.”

Awareness dawns upon him like a slow sunrise. Steve has never been known for his book smarts, but he’s not stupid. He knows what it feels like to be liked. He’s just never known what it felt like to be liked by you. 

A little laugh of disbelief stumbles out of him. “You said ‘ew.’” 

You’d been tipsier and fizzy with excitement when the game had started. Smiling and laughing at everything, your giddiness palpable. When your turn had come, Steve had watched you carefully to see if your eyes did that hopeful flit to someone in the circle, but all your concentration had been on the bottle, your smile slipping just a little as it spun. And landed on him. 

Ew, you laughed. No, c’mon, you can’t make us.

That’s the game, Marcy had reminded you gleefully. As a resister, you now had the attention of most of the circle. It wasn’t Steve’s first time playing. He knew how it went. 

Relax. He’d forced a smile, getting onto his hands and knees to meet you in the middle. It’ll be quick. Not too disgusting.

You’d made a face of humorous unwillingness, your eyes darting around the group as if seeking rescue. Fine, you relented. If it’s not a big deal to you, it’s not to me. 

Steve had done this more than once, but it felt especially awkward with you. Crawling into the middle of a circle of spectators, your hand knocking the bottle so that it clinked and rolled. True to his promise, he kept it brief, a short, painless press of his lips. Hardly enough to feel the impression of yours before you were both pulling away, Steve silent and you spewing a string of nervous giggles. 

You’d left before it was Steve’s turn to spin. 

Now you seem near to ripping the sleeves of your shirt, the material stretched over your curled fingers as you worry your lip. You’re back to not looking at him. “I didn’t mean ‘ew’ at you.” 

It had sure sounded like it. “Then what did you mean?”

“I meant it, like, I didn’t like how things were going.” You laugh at yourself, the sound stymied. “Like ew, we have to kiss in front of everyone, or ew, Chris is watching us way too intently.”

Steve makes a face. “He was?” 

“Is that what you’re mad about?” Something seems to dawn upon you now, too, your expression clearing. “That I said that?” 

He looks at you for a second. “Well, it sounds stupid when you say it out loud.” 

“No it doesn’t,” you say, but you look to be fighting a grin. “I’m sorry, it’s not stupid. I didn’t mean to be mean.” 

“It’s okay,” he says genuinely. 

You shake your head. “I wasn’t thinking. But that’s not what I meant.” 

Steve knows this now, but he teases you anyway. “Are you sure about that?” 

You hesitate only half a second before you catch onto what he’s doing. Your smile starts to win. “I’m sure.” 

“Kissing me doesn’t disgust you?” 

“No.” Your voice is bashful now, but your eyes are steady on his as you take a step toward him. 

The knots in Steve’s guts aren’t getting any looser, though there’s a different kind of commotion going on there now. “I don’t know if I believe you.” 

You reach for each other at the same time, his hands on your ribs and yours on either side of his face, and this time there’s no glass bottles to knock or rules to adhere to or spectators to appease. This kiss isn’t short.

[avcdgrdn]

── .✦ [ FIC ]: can i really stay here? [ part two ]

[ a continuation of part one ]

mullet stanley pines x innkeeper reader

tags: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, sfw

word count: 1875

˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚

in any other circumstances, you wouldn’t even dare to imagine holding a man you had just met the same day.

but stan … was different.

when your eyes first locked with his from across the counter, you could tell that he was hurting, and badly. he was trying so hard to cover it up, and it worked for the most part — after all, up until now, nobody had cared about him enough to see through his facade.

but you saw straight through him. and not only that, you actually did something about it. you offered to care for his needs, at your own expense.

his father only ever saw him as an expense.

so, there you were, sitting at the bar, holding onto the maroon fabric of his jacket as he trembled like a leaf.

the scent of cigarette smoke and pine needles was strong in your nose as he buried his face into your shoulder. you could feel his stubble scratching against your skin.

there was a part of you that wanted to speak up and comfort him, but ultimately you decided against it. you didn’t quite know enough about him to be able to speak to his situation.

after a few minutes, stan seemed to be calming down. his breathing became even, although he was still clinging onto you tightly.

“i …”

his voice was cracked and raspy.

“i … screwed up. i don’t … know how i’m gonna fix it.”

your brow furrowed as you listened to him.

“y’know, stan … i don’t know what you’re going through. but can you do me one favor?”

“... yeah?”

“look at me.”

slowly, the brunet lifted his head, pulling himself back just enough to be able to look at you. his eyes were red and puffy, but his gaze was sincere.

you looked back at him, determined. “i’m gonna help you out.”

stan didn’t know how to react. he swallowed a lump in his throat, scanning your face as if to check whether you were lying to him or not.

“... you don’t … hafta do that. i brought it on myself—”

“i don’t care.”

his eyes widened.

“if i can keep somebody from a worse fate, then i’ll do it. let me give you a place to stay, even if it’s just for a little while.” you smiled warmly, squeezing his arm for emphasis. “you shouldn’t have to feel like your life means nothing.”

“… you’re an angel.”

those words made you blush. “i–i wouldn’t say that—”

uh-oh, he’s smirking now. chuckling lowly, he let go of you so that he could cross his arms over his chest.

“what, are you tryna tell me you’re not sent from heaven? think about it. you’re saving my biscuits here, toots.” there was serious gratitude in his tone, despite his teasing. at least he seemed to be in a better mood. “i think i’ll hafta call you that more often, yeah? angel.”

you laughed nervously, trying desperately to distract yourself from your red hot face. “really? h–how interesting …”

stan snickered again, gazing at you for a moment longer with fondness dancing in his brown eyes. then, glancing at the wall clock, he realized the time. “damn, it’s midnight. i should probably stop bothering you ‘nd get to bed, huh?”

“huh, it is late … i should sleep, too.”

“then it’s decided. i’ll see ya tomorrow.” he hummed, standing from his seat and stretching out his arms before cracking a soft smile and turning around to walk towards his room.

you were left to watch him leave, your eyes following his footsteps as he made his way back up the staircase.

approximately eight hours later, you awoke to the sunlight gently filtering through your bedside window, causing your eyelids to flutter open.

the events of last night came flooding back into your mind.

i guess i’ll be seeing a whole lot more of him …

sitting up in bed, you yawned, rubbing your face sleepily.

“mm … what time is it …”

the alarm clock on your nightstand read 8:02 am.

shoot, i overslept—oh, wait. it’s my day off.

that little fact was enough to put you in a good mood for the morning. humming happily to yourself, you began to get ready for the day, picking out a comfortable outfit and a few accessories.

descending two flights of stairs, you wandered into the lobby of your inn, greeting a few different patrons and employees with a cheerful wave. it was breakfast rush hour for the kitchen, and you could catch glimpses of your executive chef running to and fro behind the bar.

he seems pretty busy today. maybe i’ll grab a bite to eat somewhere? hmm, but the question is where …

just then, your train of thought was interrupted by the sound of someone calling out your name.

you whipped around to locate the voice’s source, and there was stan, walking towards you at a leisurely pace. a radiant grin broke out on your face.

“stan! hey, good morning! how’d you sleep?”

raising a brow, he chuckled at your energy. “well, good morning, sunshine. i slept like a baby, thanks t’ you.”

“ah, don’t mention it.” you smiled, placing your hands on your hips. “i’m just glad you could sleep.”

the two of you looked at each other for a second.

why did his stare make you feel butterflies in your chest?

probably unimportant ………… right? yeah.

clearing your throat, you averted your gaze before you started to blush again. “so, um … have you had anything to eat yet?”

“nah. i was just about to, though.” to be frank, he had totally forgotten that he had access to breakfast until you just mentioned it.

“sounds goo–”

you paused mid-sentence, remembering something.

“actually … i was planning on eating out for breakfast today. would you wanna join me? since the kitchen is bustling and all …”

oh, wow. did you really just ask him out to breakfast? it didn’t hit you until after you had said it out loud that it could be considered that way. oops. was that weird? were you weird? augh.

stan had half a mind to tease you senseless for how cute that was, but after thinking about it, he decided against it. he wouldn’t wanna ruin his chances at having breakfast with you.

“you kiddin’? i’d love that.” he nodded his head, flattered and amused. “not many people can say they’ve had breakfast with an angel, ya know.”

your ears turned red.

i walked right into that one. darn you and your smooth talking …

“oh, let’s just go already.” embarrassed, you grabbed his wrist, pulling him along towards the front door. stan laughed heartily, allowing himself to be led.

it wasn’t long before you arrived at one of your favorite diners in town, known for their homey atmosphere and good breakfast. walking into the building, you were met with the smell of eggs, bacon, and coffee. the two of you breathed it in simultaneously, sighing.

“reminds me of breakfast as a kid.” stanley mused, thinking of the days when he and ford would poke at each other’s food and giggle. you smiled, watching his expression.

“c’mon, this way.” you beckoned him over towards the table you usually sat at, and a familiar waitress walked over to you as you settled in.

“good morning, loyal patron~ i see you’ve brought a plus one today, yes?”

“uh—yes. don’t go jumping to conclusions, though …”

the waitress grinned innocently. “of course. now, what can i get for you two?”

stan wound up ordering pancakes with bacon and eggs, while you settled on some waffles and a mug of coffee. you could have sworn you saw that waitress giggling to her coworker about something as she went on her way, but you shook your head to yourself in an attempt to ignore it. instead, you directed your attention towards the man sitting across from you.

“so, i’m guessin’ you’re a regular here?” he tilted his head, leaning back against his seat. there was a smirk plastered onto his face that you couldn’t quite decipher.

“you would guess correctly.” you hummed, picking up the salt shaker on the table and fidgeting with it absentmindedly. “have you ever been?”

a rumbling sigh escaped his lips.

“nah … i’m not exactly from around here.”

your gaze was trained on him. so far, he’s kept a laid-back demeanor, not to mention that little smirk that drives you insane—but you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was way more depth to his character than he let on.

“yeah? where’re you from?”

“...”

there was a brief silence. his chocolate brown eyes, warmly lit by the sun, stared into your soul.

“i’m from new jersey.”

your eyebrows shot up. “from jersey? wow … you’re far from home, then.”

“it’s not home anymore.”

you opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again. stan was staring out the window, a frown creasing his face.

“i … sorry. sensitive topic?”

he turned back to you, a faint blush appearing on his face. “uh … well, yeah, i guess … it’s okay.”

“come again?”

“... it’s, uh—i–i’m okay, if it’s you.”

he was a darker shade of red now, scratching awkwardly at his stubble. he felt so … vulnerable. but somehow, he was okay with it.

at that moment, the waitress came back with plates of food. “order up!”

you watched as you were served, salivating as you saw golden waffles covered in butter and syrup smiling up at you. it didn’t take long for the both of you to start digging in.

“... wow.” after the first few bites, stan had stars in his eyes. “it tastes just like ma’s.”

“was your mom a good cook?”

he snorted. “well, she wasn’t exactly a michelin star chef, but she could make some damn good flapjacks. at least, i sure thought so.” putting another forkful of pancake into his mouth, he chewed thoughtfully. you simply propped your head on one hand, watching.

“i always told her she could sell ‘em for a fortune.”

his tone was soft with nostalgia.

“she just laughed. prob’ly cause i was five when i told her that.”

“they must’ve been really something, huh?”

“they were. all my life, i dreamt of selling somethin’ as good as that. i haven’t stopped trying, either.”

he scoffed.

“most of ‘em have been a bust.”

you hummed softly in understanding.

“you’re still trying, though. that’s worth more than any failed effort.”

he looked up from his plate. “... you think so?”

“sure i do.” lifting your mug, you took a sip of coffee. “perseverance is worth a lot.”

stan could barely handle your uplifting words. his heart was squeezing in his chest. covering his flustered face with one hand, he leaned against the table, grumbling.

“... an angel … God sent an angel.”

“what?”

“what? nothing.”

a few hours later, you were walking side by side back to the inn. stan couldn’t help but admire the way the fall breeze tousled your hair, and the gentle smile on his face was speaking his thoughts out loud.

he’d never known that somebody this beautiful could even exist.

maybe ...

maybe he hasn’t hit rock bottom quite yet.

end

author's note:

thank you for all the love on this fic !!! :D

part three ....????? any part three hopefuls out there?

i gotta keep cooking.

if you have any fic or headcanon requests, hit up my askbox! <3

tag list: @icouldntthinkofanythingclever @seahorrorz @blustalker @hay-needle @phanmai1002

[sugarygetoo]

divine.

-> pairing: nanami x fem! reader

-> summary: the moment you walk down the aisle, nanami realizes just how deeply in love he is with you.

-> cw/ tw:  nothing (suprisingly lmao).

-> wc: 430 (dang, i fell off T-T)

-> song inspo: die with a smile - lady gaga, bruno mars.

-> an. suprise! it's yena! yes, i'm alive, yes i wrote this, yes, this sucks. i suck at writing fluff, but what are you expecting from someone who's 20 and still never even held hands with a boy romantically (please help me, i want to stop being single PLEASE)💀😭

starting a new masterlist for certain fics that were inspired by certain songs, so make sure to keep an eye out for what is basically my way of giving out song recs lmao

apologies about not writing more often, i'm just much more of reader then i am a writer so I've just been reading a crap ton, so I'm sorry!!!

forgive me, i'll write more angst i promise 🙏

main masterlist. | yena's playlist.

✎ xoxo, yena.

“i, i just woke up from a dream. where you and i had to say goodbye. and i don’t know what it all means. but since i survived, i realized wherever you go , that’s where i’ll follow.”

there were no words to describe the feelings that nanami feels in his body right now. 

you are so, so beautiful. 

as he watches you walk down the aisle towards him, he feels as if everything around him has disappeared, all he could see was you. from the way your hair was done to how you look divine in that pristine dress as if it were made solely for you. 

his heart is beating so fast that he’s sure he might not even make it through the rest of the event. his hands are shaking from nervousness and wet from sweat. every step you took felt like cupid’s arrow shooting him in the heart over and over again, and everytime time he made eye contact with you felt like lightning shooting through his entire body.

you were everything that he’s ever wanted and more.

“nobody’s promised tomorrow.”

by the time you arrive right in front of him, nanami is sure he’s no longer breathing. you looked like the epitome of an angel and he couldn’t believe he was gifted the opportunity to stand in front of you and declare his love for you. 

holding his hand out for you to take, he couldn’t help but tighten his hold on your hand. the heat radiating of from it reminds him that this was real.

that this was all, very, very real.

he was getting married. to you.

“so i’m gonna love you like it’s the last night, like it’s the last night.”

he felt like crying. 

being able to hold onto you like this and stare into those eyes of yours that he loves so much. he’s sure his heart is beating loud enough for everyone in the hall to hear, but he couldn’t care less. 

not when you stare at him as if he was the most precious person in the entire universe. not when you wrap your warm, comforting hands around his. not when the biggest, sweetest smile blossoms on your face as your eyes slowly turn red.

nothing else mattered. 

nothing, other then you.

“if the world was ending, i wanna be next to you. if the party was over, and our time on earth was through. i wanna hold you, just for a while.  and die with a smile. if the world was ending, i wanna be next, to you.”

@ sugarygetoo, all rights reserved.

[signanothername]

Do you think that your take on nightmare could become a better person without becoming at least fully uncorrupted?

I like your take on uncorrupted nm but I was curious to ask because there’s not really much of Nightmare becoming a better person *whilst* still being corrupted?

Asking the real questions here >:)

Before I start this ramble however, I think it’s important to keep in mind that even while uncorrupted, Nightmare’s still a bitch, cause as I mentioned before, Nightmare wouldn’t suddenly get back to becoming a kind angel with a big heart, and it’s also important to keep in mind that if uncorrupted Nightmare got back to being powerful (even without the corruption in the mix) he’s extremely prone to (and would probably) get back to his old ways

Cause while the corruption has a great impact on Nightmare’s behavior and how he deals with his emotions, the corruption is less of the root cause and more of a participant in Nightmare’s awful behavior

The root cause of Nightmare’s awful behavior is extreme fear born out of trauma

The corruption already did its job a long time ago and shaped Nightmare as a person, it’s still Nightmare himself that’s in full control of his actions, he could at any point in time, make the right or wrong decision

With that in mind, could Nightmare be a better person whilst corrupted?

I’d say it’s kinda complicated, it’s both yes and no at the same time

Could he become a better person whilst corrupted?

Yes

Would he overall become a better person with better behavior? And with everyone?

No, unless there’s an actual driving force to motivate Nightmare to be a better person somewhat (which is absolutely possible ;) ), Nightmare would continue to be a bitch

Could he still get better at treating specific people that he deems worth his time? And only deems worth his time after specific interactions that made him believe so?

Yes

Corrupted or not, Nightmare isn’t incapable of becoming a better person, however there needs to be a reason for Nightmare to be so

Nightmare is a very “treat people how they treat you” kinda person, and while Nightmare is extremely toxic, abusive, and cruel, he’s also someone who stays true to his word and would treat who treats him with kindness the same, and Nightmare doesn’t easily believe in genuine kindness without a goal behind it, and so he’d insist on giving something back instead of accepting kindness for what it is

So if someone shows him genuine kindness, he’d also show genuine kindness (in his own twisted way) in “this is me paying my debt back” way, like, he’d “pay it back” by keeping the AU of the person who showed him kindness under his protection for a period of time, or let go of a debt they owe him, etc

I’ve mentioned before that Nightmare is capable of kindness, and I don’t mean in “paying someone’s kindness back” kinda way, but he can actually be kind in an active way where he thinks of doing something kind to someone else without it being a payback of sorts, and so Nightmare can still make a good decision and actually show it without any strings attached, and the truth is he does show it, very rarely, but he does (in the “a little life update” comic, Killer mentions how Nightmare managed to do one “good thing” at least ;) )

Nightmare just has a mindset that’s like “nobody was ever kind to me when i was the one who’s helpless/ defenseless, so why should I ever show anyone kindness now that I’m in power?” It’s an irrational mindset, but the thing is, no one can debate him on it considering it’s something he keeps to himself

For the outside world, Nightmare does what he does cause he’s a bitch and that’s it, not taking into consideration the fact he acts the way he does as a result of a harmful mindset he developed due to a life changing traumatic experience (obviously cause they don’t know)

And while his kindness is still pretty much apart of him, whenever he has certain thoughts of doing something good/ kind for someone, he just immediately stomps on it and tells himself that he’s being “irrational”, and yes, Nightmare thinks that being kind in a cruel world is “irrational”, he’s the opposite to Dream, who thinks that being kind in a cruel world is what true strength is

And y’know I kinda always talk about how much of a bitch Nightmare can be, but I never talk about the fact that, despite how bitchy he is, Nightmare can actually be sensible

In the right circumstances at the right times, Nightmare can actually be talked to without him being an absolute bitch

And that goes for almost everyone, MTT included

like Killer, Murder and Horror can actually talk to him without Nightmare immediately taking it as a chance to abuse them

But Nightmare is the kinda person that you need to tiptoe around sometimes, cause he has insane mood swings, so MTT have to check whether he’s in a good mood or a bad mood and based on that decide whether it’s a good idea to approach and talk to him or leave him alone and sometimes even go as far as make themselves as small and as unseen as possible as to not catch his attention

Building a good rapport with Nightmare is.. complicated, but possible

But the thing is, even if Nightmare became a better person, it’s better to keep your expectations a bit low, cause even if Nightmare took genuine steps towards becoming a better person i think his capacity for that is limited, like don’t expect him to become like Dream where he’d jump to saving someone in need, but he’d cut back on his abusive and toxic behavior

Basically, Nightmare would become a better person but in a passive rather than an active way where he’d stop hurting people himself, but would let other people do the hurting for him (and i mean in a natural way with how positivity and negativity works and not send someone to hurt another)

For example, let’s say the twins see an innocent someone get beaten in front of them, Dream would immediately jump in to save them, Nightmare wouldn’t, he’d watch with sadistic glee and it would even get a chuckle or two outta him as the poor soul is getting beaten all while he feeds on their misery and once he’d fed himself he’ll just leave (and that’s regardless whether he’s corrupted or not)

It’s cause Nightmare also has the mindset of “the strong devours the weak”, it’s the natural order of things to him, it’s not his fault that the world around him settles for the minimum is it? That’s why he’s obsessed with power and would do anything to obtain it, if Nightmare can ensure that he keeps that power by torturing innocent people then he’ll do it, all cause he’s paralyzed by the terror of the mere thought of becoming weak again

To Nightmare, weakness means a death sentence, and we all know how irrationally afraid Nightmare is of death

Despite his power, knowledge, and 500 year long experiences, Nightmare was and will always be a fearful child who claws at the world around him first so it wouldn’t have the courage to claw back at him (completely dismissing the fact that the world would claw back regardless >:) )

For Nightmare to become a better person he needs to face his greatest enemy, and that enemy was always his own self

[strawberrychampayne]

you can't be this oblivious

bradley bradshaw x fem!reader

warnings: none except like one swear word lol.

word count: 1026

summary: oblivious!bradley x affectionate!reader!! reader is super affectionate to everyone but it is different with bradley. She’s sweet to everyone but she isn’t sitting at a table for 30 mins and letting just anyone rant about their day, unless they are rooster.

Y/N Y/L/N, aka Magnet was just that. A Magnet. 

“And then they had me doing pushups because I made a snarky comment according to them.”

Bradley Bradshaw better known as Rooster was someone you would consider a best friend. Though Phoenix would argue he’d be more than that if he wasn’t so oblivious. 

“I mean what did you expect Roo? I would’ve had you doing the same thing.” she giggled into her glass. 

They had been at the Hard Deck for around two hours now, coming right after they got off. It felt like a ritual at this point. Work, Hard Deck, go home and then repeat. There were a million other things they could all do and yet they always came here. Maybe it was the atmosphere that cheered them up after a long day. Or the beer.

What she hadn’t expected was sitting at a table for the last 30 minutes with Rooster ranting about the trouble he’d gotten in earlier, she didn’t mind that though. She could listen to him talk forever. There were very few times that Rooster felt comfortable enough to share things so anytime he did, she took it seriously. 

“You wouldn’t even think to punish me Mag, we both know that.” Rooster replied with a smirk playing on his lips. 

She often thought of what it would be like to kiss him. Would his lips be soft and plushy or more rough like he pretended to be. She liked to believe it would be the first option. She’d never get to really know though as it seemed he never reciprocated the feelings she was putting out. 

“You don’t know what I would do, Rooster. I could make you do 20 pushups right now.” she said

“And I would do them.” he said, a twinkle in his eye or maybe it was the lighting. 

She gasped quietly hoping he didn’t hear. Flirty Rooster only came out after a couple of drinks. She had heard the phrase that drunk words are sober thoughts. Never really believing it though, he never had so much to drink he couldn’t remember saying something so eye raising to his supposed best friend. 

“The worst thing about all this extra work is I feel like I have no time to eat something good. It’s always some fries from here and a couple beers” he continued, brushing past his previous statement. 

Coming back to her senses she spoke quickly, “We could go out together. I mean all I do is drink a couple of beers here.”

She felt him tense up. Preparing for the worst she thought of a way to recover.

“You are truly my best friend. I mean nobody else would’ve offered to do something like that.” Rooster spoke up before she could backtrack. 

Her heart cracked slightly. Best Friend. Who knew two words could hurt so much. Glancing to her right she could see Hangman and Phoenix cringing at the sight. Warmth flooded her body as she began to stand up. 

“Hey where are you going?” he questioned following her up. 

“Yeah um, my head is starting to hurt so I think I’m just going to head home. I’ll see you tomorrow Bradley.” she said as she turned to walk away.

Bradley? She only called him by his first name when she was upset or poking fun at him. 

“Well at least let me take you home? I mean I brought you here.” he rushed out.

“No. It’s fine I’ll call an uber.” she pushed past a few people and walked out the door. 

Shoulders slumping Rooster glanced out the window at the woman. Phone in hand she was true to her word in calling an uber. He felt a pang in his heart watching her. Had he done something wrong? 

A hand clapped against his shoulder. He could smell the cologne and know who it was before even turning his head. 

“Well that was a shit show. I mean come on, Rooster, you can’t be this oblivious.” Hangman said with a cocky smile. 

Shrugging his hand off Rooster turned his head; the muscles in his jaw contracting, “What do you mean, Hangman? Oblivious to what?”

Hangman laughed at him, “You’re meaning to tell me that you haven’t realized that Magnet has been flirting with you ever since she met you? I mean she practically asked you on a date a few minutes ago.” 

Was that a ringing in his ears? Y/N flirting with him? Bradley felt like his head was going to combust where he stood. 

“And there's the look of realization. You really must’ve been oblivious.” Hangman added. 

“I think you’ve gotten this all mixed up. I mean Y/N is close and affectionate with everyone. She leans her head on your shoulder, gossips with Phoenix, and is constantly fixing Bob's glasses. And with me she just leans up against me, compliments me and listens to me rant and she-” Rooster took a pause. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. I mean Rooster, Y/N is an affectionate person for sure. But she has never once listened to one of my rants and she’s the only one who'll listen to yours.” Hangman said, an almost serious look on his face. 

“I just watched my future wife walk out that door after asking me on a date.” Bradley said.

“Well hold on nobody said she was-” Hangman started before Rooster talked over him.

“No Hangman, trust me I know. That is going to be my wife. As long as I haven’t ruined everything.” Rooster said, confidence in his voice. 

“Well then I guess you should go get your wife to be.” Hangman said, a small smile on his lips. 

“Yeah I’ve got to go.” Rooster took off out of the bar and to his car. 

“I cannot believe it took him that long to realize that.” Phoenix said, walking up besides Hangman. 

“He’s a little oblivious but we got there. Hope he has a gorgeous ring to propose with. Claims that’s his wife to be” Hangman replied. 

“I don’t doubt that.” Phoenix remarked quietly, watching Rooster peel out of the parking lot.

let me know if anyone wants a part 2!

part 2:

!!!please don't repost my work anywhere, translate, or bind my works anywhere without permission!!!

[banjopolishh]

Tear you apart

cw: NSFW!!!! LIKE ALL NSFW. was originally called athoth a go!! go!! but this seemed better :-)

———-

Ford had been wanting to talk to his lover about the topic of sex, as they’d been dating for quite some time. He was terrified to bring it up, but he wanted to know how the Tennessean felt about it.

Today was the day Stanford was going to ask; he had candles lit all around the dorm, little flowers decorated the floor, the latest Beatles album, Abbey Road, playing softly in the background.

He purchased it a few days ago after it came out, as a little gift.

All of a sudden; Fiddleford came into the dorm room, quickly closing the door behind him.

“Hey, hun! I’m ba-“ Fiddleford fell silent as he stared at their transformed space, eyes widening.It was like walking into an enchanted forest.

“Stanford! Did you do all this!?” Fidds eyes darted around the room; taking notice of everything Ford had put together. This was all for him? He was stunned.

“Welcome back, darling.” Ford smiled, making his way over to the other man. He grabbed him gently by the waist and planted a kiss on his lips. Showing Fidds how much he loved him, was a top priority for the young scientist.

"What's the occasion, my love?" Fidds beamed, returning the kiss with a sigh of contentment. Their dorm had never looked so beautiful; typically, it reeked of weed and was littered with papers on the floor. But today, it smelled of incense and was beautifully organized.

“Come with me,” Ford spoke softly, grabbing Fidds hand, he led him over to their shared bed, both sitting down on the edge of it. Ford took a deep breath, tightening his grip around Fiddleford’s hand.

“I want to ask you something, okay? If you’re uncomfortable with any of it, let me know. We’ve been going out for some time, and, I’ve been.. thinking about things. I want to have intercourse with you.” Ford sighed, his face redder than a tomato. Was he saying this right?

“You want to have sex with me? Really?” Fiddleford gasped, he had fantasized about it for a lonnnng time, and now, Ford was finally asking.

"I have for a long time," Ford replied, his heart racing. He couldn't predict Fidds' response, but he knew one thing for sure - he loved him and would be happy no matter what."

“Of course, I do. I’ve been wantin’ the same! Just.. haven’t been able to find the words.” They laughed, obviously nervous. Ford let out a huge sigh of relief, he wasn’t the only one who was thinking about intimacy.

“Really?!I was actually afraid you would refuse. But of course, that would have been alright too! Oh no, I feel like such an idiot now.” The brunette with dark hair instinctively covered his face with his hands, feeling mortified by his own words.

“I know what ya mean, sugar! Don’t be embarrassed, I don’t know how to go about this, either. It’ll be my first time.” Fidds put his hand on Ford's shoulder, reassuring him with small gentle rubs.

“I have another question, this one slightly more embarrassing.” Ford mentally prepared himself for this one, expecting Fiddleford to be uncomfortable.

“Go on, hun.”

“Would you be alright with me filming? For learning purposes? I want to be able to keep track of everything that feels good for you.” Wow. Fiddleford was blown away, Stanford cared so much about his pleasure and comfort. Nobody else had ever treated him with such love and kindness.

“That would be swell, my love. I will admit, I’m nervous. Will ya promise to be gentle?” Fidds cupped his dearest’s face, looking deep into his eyes, he trusted Ford more than he even trusted himself.

“I promise to be gentle, Fiddlesticks. Wouldn’t want to break you in two, hm?” Ford smirked, kissing his boyfriend with passion. He had begun moving his hands up Fiddleford’s shirt, playfully caressing his sensitive sides.

“Would you mind if I grabbed the camera, darling? I’d like to get it set up before we get too excited.” Ford smiled and got up off the bed, rushing over to the closet, and grabbing a Sony Camcorder. He set the tripod up next to their bed, aiming it so each part of their bodies could be seen. Stanford turned it on, checking it closely to make sure the quality was good. Once it began filming, he made his way over to the bed once more.

“You’re for certain you’re okay with this, my star?” He climbed onto the mattress and nibbled at Fidds neck.

“You’re the only person I’ll ever be certain with, Stanford. Please don’t ever forget that.” The southerner moaned softly at the feeling of Ford’s teeth grazing against his neck.

Ford groaned at the sight of his lover, he needed him. He was going to take him, right there. He nestled his face into Fidds neck.

“May I remove your clothes, sweetheart?” The scientist whispered into the mechanic's ear, moving his hand slowly down Fidds small frame.

“Yes, please. I’m starting to get.. well,” The men looked down at Fiddleford’s lower half, he was fully erect.

“Jesus Christ, darling. You’re very excited, aren’t you?” Ford teased, hovering over Fidds and beginning to unbutton his shirt. Ford was doing his best to play cool, but internally he was freaking out.

“Always for you, sir,” Fidds flirted back, mustering up a small ounce of courage. Stanford's response only made him bolder as he yanked at Fiddleford's shirt, leaving a trail of purple and red marks on his bare chest.

“Oh, fuck, Stanford..” Fidds reached down to take off his pants but Ford pinned his hand back down onto the bed.

“Don’t,” Stanford breathed, trailing kisses along his lover's body until he reached Fiddleford's throbbing cock. He looked up at Fidds with a smirk as he unzipped his pants, ready to be enveloped in his boyfriend’s scent.

“Wowwww, look how big you’ve gotten for me, sweetheart. You’re so handsome.” Fiddleford hid his face with his hands, embarrassed by Ford’s praise. Stanford pulled down Fidds pants, then his boxers. Fiddleford moaned at the feeling of the cold dorm air blowing against his tip.

“Fuck, Ford, please touch me...oh, please touch me" Fiddleford moaned, thrusting his hips upwards, feeling his partner's hot breath against his skin. Fiddleford's constant moaning was driving Stanford insane. With a firm grip, Ford slowly moved his hand up and down the disheveled man's shaft, maintaining a steady pace.

“How’s this, baby? Look at the camera, show it how good I make you feel.” Stanford chuckled, watching as Fidds reluctantly turned his head, his eyes making contact with the machine. The idea of Ford watching the recording of their intimacy sent a shiver down his back.

“You’re so beautiful, Fiddleford. I cant wait to ruin you.” Suddenly, Ford took Fidds’ cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip.

“OH! Shhhhhiiit.. Oh, lord.” Fiddleford began bucking his hips into the six fingered man’s mouth, waves of pleasure hitting him. Ford watched as his lover’s eyes began to roll back. He laughed as his darling man, turned into a brainless doll before his eyes.

“Doing so good for me, Fidds. God..your dick is so cute. I’m shocked nobody’s tried to claim you in the past.” All Fiddleford could do is thrust into Ford’s hands. He couldn’t form a single word.

“Fuck, Fidds, I can’t take it anymore.” Stanford moved his hand away from Fiddleford’s cock, earning a whine of disapproval from him.

“Wha-What’re ya doin’?” Fiddleford watched with lustful eyes as Ford removed his own clothes. Ford, seemingly experienced, had NEVER had sex before. He was simply winging it.

“I’m sorry, Fidds. I just, I really need you.” Stanford crawled onto the desperate man’s body, grabbing Fidds’ face, forcing him to look into his eyes. Fiddleford shivered before Stanford pulled him roughly into a kiss.

“Ah.." The kiss soon became messy, their tongues finding their way into the others mouth. Soft grunts and moans filling the room.

Fiddleford's hands roamed over Stanford's broad shoulders and down his muscular back, reveling in the feeling of skin on skin. Their kisses grew more passionate and urgent as Stanford ground his hips against Fiddleford's, their erections rubbing together.

"Oh Lord, Stanford," Fiddleford gasped, breaking away from the kiss. "I need you so bad, darlin'. Please..."

Stanford nodded, his eyes half lidded with desire. "I've got you, sweetheart. Just relax for me."

He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a small bottle of lube, coating his fingers generously. With gentle touches, he began to open Fiddleford up, watching his lover's face carefully for any signs of discomfort.

Fiddleford tensed at first at the unfamiliar sensation, but soon he was grinding gently against Ford’s fingers with pleasure. He had never felt something so strange - and so good - in his life.

“Look at how good you’re doing.” Stanford murmured softly. “So, So good..”

Ford carefully added another finger scissoring them gently, stretching Fidds further. The southerner softly moaned, his hands gripping the sheets.

“Ford, please,” Fiddleford whimpered, his accent becoming thicker with arousal. “Please, fuck me.”

Ford’s breath hitched at the desperation in his companions voice. He took his fingers out slowly, causing Fidds to whine at the loss. Stanford gave him a peck on the lips before grabbing some lube from the nightstand, slicking himself up.

“Are you sure, honey? You can always tell me if-”

Fiddleford quickly interrupted; “Stanford, I’m beggin’ ya, PLEASE fuck m-”

Slowly, carefully, Ford began to push in. His eyes darted all over Fidds’face, looking for any sign of discomfort. But Fiddleford just moaned, eyes fluttering shut as Ford filled him.

"Oh, darlin'..." Fiddleford gasped, his fingers digging into Ford's shoulders. The feeling of Ford inside him was overwhelming, a deep stretch that made his toes curl.

Ford groaned, the tightness around his dick was almost too much to bear. He stopped, giving Fiddleford time to adjust to his length. "You okay, sweetheart?" he whispered, pressing soft kisses to Fidds' face.

Fiddleford nodded, his breathing heavy. "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Please move, Stanford. I need you."

With a low growl, Ford began to thrust, slowly at first. He watched Fiddleford's face intently, drinking in every gasp and moan. The southerner's eyes were half-lidded, mouth hanging open in pleasure.

"You're so beautiful like this," Ford murmured, picking up the pace, groaning as he felt Fidds’ walls tighten around him. Jacking off never felt as good as his lovers’ insides.

Stanford's thrusts became more forceful, going deeper into Fiddleford with each motion. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, followed by their shared moans and gasps.

"Oh god, Ford!" Fiddleford cried out, his back arching off the bed. "Right there, please don't stop!"

Ford angled his hips, hitting that spot inside Fiddleford over and over. He could feel himself getting close, the tight heat of Fidds' body overwhelming his senses.

"Fidds, I'm not gonna last much longer," Ford panted, his rhythm becoming erratic. He reached between their bodies to stroke Fiddleford's neglected cock.

The dual stimulation was too much for Fiddleford. With a strangled cry, he came, spilling over Ford's hand and onto his tummy."OH! Ohmystarsohmystarsohmy-” The sight of Fiddleford’s release caused Stanford to reach his own climax.

“Fidds! I’m coming, i’m coming inside..FUCK!” Ford wrapped Fidds’ legs around himself, making sure his seed reached deep.

Fidds’ legs shook as Ford came inside, he felt every single drop reach his center. He felt full.

Deep breaths replaced the moans; Ford pulled out slowly, watching closely as the cum slowly poured out of Fiddleford’s hole.

“W-Wow..That was..Wow.” He sighed, not even the most beautiful meteor shower could top this.

Ford cupped Fidds’ face, looking at his pink dusted cheeks. He looked so cute, so soft and tired.

“How’re you doing, sweetie? Feeling okay? Youre not in any pain are you?” A small bit of worry plagued his mind briefly, until Fiddleford silently wrapped himself around Ford.

“That was so amazing, that was so fuckin’ amazing..God, I’m so exhausted now..thank you for being gentle with me, hun.. you made me feel safe.” Fidds curled up on Stanford’s chest, reveling in the afterglow of intimacy.

“You did so good, honey! I’m very impressed with you. You felt absolutely incredible around me, I couldn’t help but give you my cum.” Ford smiled and planted a kiss onto his head.

“You.. are ya sure that was your first time? I felt like you were way more experienced than I am..” Fidds inquired looking at his boyfriend intently.

“I have never. I did.. quite a bit of research though. I’ve been looking at different techniques for gay couples, there’s.. a lot I had to learn.. but, it was worth it for you.”

“You made my first time so special, honey.. Did you have fun, too?” Stanford nodded and ran his hands through Fiddleford’s hair.

“I had so much fun watching you squirm beneath me, you were a sight to behold.” Fiddleford chuckled and pulled the blankets up over them, covering their naked bodies.

“I love you, Stanford.”

“I love you, Fidds.”

…..

“Is the camera still on?”

“Oh, shit!”

————

AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHB BLOWS UP

this took me for fucking ever oh my fod oh mygod

enjoy you FREAKS!!!

[hugejk]

2 years.

due to high demand part 2 !!!! feedback is also very much appreciated <3

cw: addiction mentioned, rehab

||_________________||

After getting settled into your temporary home, you fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. Being woken up to the bright orange sun. You get up. You still didn’t know what to do with yourself. I guess the comments were right. You really do need some professional help.

you just didn’t know where to start, rehab? therapy? checking yourself into a psych ward? You sit at the small work desk at the hotel, clicking the pen and scooting the small writing pad they provided. You assume the best place to start was the addiction problems. You go on your phone and look for places. You find the highest rated one, and call it.

“hi.uhm. i was just uhm… wondering if i can check in? like check myself into rehab.”

the man on the other line told you the process of checking yourself in. You had to go in person and stay there until they think you were better than you had started. This process might take a while. But you’re willing to do it.

You gather your things, planning what you were going to tell the lady downstairs,

“my flight got rescheduled for today.”

“my friend is back at their house i don’t need the room anymore.”

“my parents have a room for me at their place.”

heading out the room and towards the elevator. Spamming the down button to hurry and get to the place. You didn’t care to wear the disguise you had packed. Nobody would see you for a couple more months anyways. At least that’s what you thought.

as the doors opened up, you look up from your shoes and see two young men. One of them wearing a dark beard and the other…well he looks like a kid. Clean shaven face, big brown eyes, short brunette hair.

“that’s exactly what i- wait aren’t you y/n?”

the one with the dark beard said as he pointed at you.

fuck.

“…do you want a picture?…”

you couldn’t even deny it, people recognized you so much now that you can’t say no to pictures, or else people would think your a rude arrogant celeb. And them boom there goes the grammy nomination, the awards, the money. everything you had worked so hard for.

you were so stuck in your head that you didn’t realize he was as talking to the younger one.

“this is the singer i was telling you about just the other day! you know…the one you said was-“

he was cut off by the brunette slapping his arm, giving him the “don’t you dare” look.

“look, i don’t have the time for this, do you want something? i have to be somewhere.”

you didn’t mean to be rude, but you just wanted to be fixed already. You didn’t have time to stop and talk with these guys. You notice the small badge on their nike sweaters.

“oh sorry——you know our football club is sponsored by spotify? you could totally be this years sponsor.”

the beard said to you, side eyeing the brunette and wiggling his eyebrows. Something was up. You just didn’t care enough to ask.

“uhm.yeah. sure whatever.”

you weren’t even planning on making new music anytime soon. you brush it off and push the down button for the other elevator. You didn’t want to be anywhere near a person right now.

now that you were alone in the elevator, you started to wonder and replay how the beard and the brunette were acting. As you got downstairs to the lobby, your worst fear. A packed lobby with screaming people and more guys all wearing the same nike hoodie, that logo.

you make a pit stop at the bathrooms to put on your glasses and mask, there was no way you couldn’t get away from this one. You blend back into the crowd, asking the nearest person,

“what’s this all about?”

“do you live under a rock? this is the best football club of all time right in front of us! FC barcelona!”

that’s when it finally hit you, the logo seemed so familiar. You remember watching a few el classicos with your dad when you were little. How could you forget?

But you had more important things to do that day. You thanked the person who reminded you of the club and went on with your day. Walking with your head down and airpods in, you arrived to your new home for a few months.

you open the door and walk up to the front desk,

“uhm..hi. id like to check myself in..”

you say with your head down, feeing ashamed that you were asking for help. You could’ve done this on your own but here you are.

“okay! before we check you in we’re gonna have to have you fill these papers out, and i hope you know what your doing right now is brave and your in good hands.”

crazy. It’s like the lady behind the desk could read your unsure mind. Her words repeat and bounce around in your head. Taking the papers and taking a seat in the lobby. It was small, and empty.

You have no idea what’s to come but surely it’ll be the best for you.

||_____________________||

tags: @pabl0andm3 @spidybaby @htpssgavi @alexis1taylorr

[sepublic]

What’s further absurd about Camila being more of a mom to Hunter than Luz in fanon is that. Camila and Hunter have one(1) solo interaction across the entire show and it’s her pulling him out of the water. They never say anything to each other, the scene transitions to the group worrying about Hunter. But then we see Camila interact with Luz at the end of the episode, in fact she has MULTIPLE interactions with Luz that episode and in general!!!

Meanwhile Darius is right there, he was mean to Hunter once, but he made up for it in the same episode by validating Hunter, looking out for him, giving him a way to talk to his new friends! He worries about Hunter in Hollow Mind. When the kids reunite with their parents, Hunter has nobody until Darius shows up.

And if y’all can forgive Eda for being immature with King a few times in S1, you can do the same for Darius. If you can forgive Alador’s abuse and neglect towards his kids by embracing their forgiveness, Darius is nothing. Darius is basically the only adult to actually talk to Hunter directly besides you know who and Eda, but that was twice and she was making fun of him the first time. Raine also showed concern but I barely see that dynamic.

It’s insane because it’s not enough that Hunter needs love from an adult for these people, they need it to be Camila’s love specifically!!! Despite Luz’s entire arc and the show in general being kicked off from Luz feeling like her mother didn’t love her enough by sending her to that reality check camp. Oh, Hunter needs someone kind for him because of trauma? Luz also has trauma, S3 has her go on a thinly-veiled suicidal rant.

Istfg I see Camila and Hunter more than I see Camila and Amity, and at least Amity is basically her daughter in law, plus it’s Amity getting away from her two abusive white parents. Meanwhile people denying Darius are demonizing him for being a black man who was mean once.

He’s not even Luz’s brother, and I’m sure part of the insistence of Camila as Hunter’s mom is an extension of that; Except the ‘Siblings’ dynamic between Luz and Hunter is inaccurate and exaggerated, esp in favor of Luz and King or Vee! We see so much fanart and fanfic of Camila just hanging out with Hunter even casually without angst, but not her own blood daughter.

Like yeah maybe it’s fun to explore the two-month period in the human realm and how Camila was the only adult these kids had; But people continue to hype her up as Hunter’s mom in settings outside of that timeframe!!! We see Luz come out to her mom and everything, we have her being raised by her mother! And Camila taking care of Hunter would not suck so hard if Luz wasn’t completely overshadowed, if Hunter wasn’t everywhere and inserted into everything! With fans insisting Hunter’s a Noceda and NEEDS to be in group photos like that, insisting on joint custody as if Luz and Camila don’t have that much of a relationship with Hunter to begin with and Darius is sufficient, crying about how he deserved more in the finale! Boohoo.

I’m gonna be real here, Hunter fans are the weakest link in this fandom despite being the most prevalent at this rate. They’ll rather make up stuff for him to talk about than acknowledge other characters, or even take other characters’ moments to give to him; Like remember when Luz had a nightmare sequence where she was dressed in Belos’ clothes and felt the weight of everyone’s accusations, and then some fanartist made a piece of that happening to Hunter instead??? I have to see Camila hugging Hunter while he wields String Bean, who is Luz’s Palisman when Waffles is right there without a confirmed creation date, so they could’ve easily been shortly after the finale!!!

It is SUCH an admission of envy and unconscious racism that y’all need to take traits and moments that belong to other characters and give it to your white boy to enjoy them, instead of enjoying these characteristics with the characters they actually belong to! And don’t make this about you and how you personally aren’t consciously racist or whatever, because this is about a group trend and PoC should not have to bear the burden of screening every individual of guilt. And yeah it is racist, hell it’s basically the Mammy archetype where a WoC is expected to prioritize her white charge over her own child.

And don’t even try to argue you’re innocent because you’re a PoC, PoC are just as capable of white favoritism and I speak from experience! For chrissakes everyone we’re snappy about this because being gentle about it has never worked for PoC. If you feel upset by this than actually do something about it and learn instead of wallowing in self pity or even denying it.

[sunflowerhae]

Ch. 17 FTCU by Nicki Minaj

Haechan stands beside you, feeling like he’s on cloud 9 as he sways to the beat of the drums. Here he was with all his best friends, watching a free show for a famous artist with a model, two youtubers, and you - his idol and crush..and friend. If you had told Haechan he would be in this position 6 months ago, he probably would have laughed in your face and told you to get fucked. But regardless of that, here he stands, right by you. Typically, when you’re in a room with him, haechan can’t help his eyes from casting their long gaze towards your face. It’s almost instinct on his part; a primal part of him that can’t keep his attention away from you for more than a minute. Even now, as Mark pulls him away to ask him something along with Jaemin (the two seem to be getting on just peachy) he still is acutely aware of every movement you make.

You couldn’t stop yourself from crying.

Watching your best friend of 5 years complete a life dream of hers by finishing a world tour is not a sentence one says everyday, so when you watch Giselle finish her final monologue to the crowd and transition into her second to last song from your spot in the balcony room, you can’t stop the tears that threaten to spill. You look around briefly, noticing that haechan left his place beside you in favor of Mark and Jaemin. You try your hardest to hide the pout that makes its way to your face, shaking off the sick feeling that grows in your stomach from haechan stepping away.

It’s just a stupid crush, y/n.

Can you be blamed, though? In the 6 odd months that you’ve lived in your apartment building - sharing a wall with the boy your eyes can’t leave - Haechan has somehow found a way to nuzzle himself into your heart, setting up camp and using pieces of your sanity to make a tent. Whenever your expectations dip and you try to rationalize your friendship with him, Haechan turns around and exceeds your needs tenfold. It’s almost like the boy knows everything about you, with how much he gets right. He always seems so…aware of what you want and how to get it.

You don’t realize you’re staring until your line of sight is cut off. Looking at the face of the person who stepped next to you, Karina is smiling back while holding out a beer for you to take. “Well, they seem pretty happy right now,” she gestures behind you as you take the beer from her hands. Turning around, you see Winter trapped in Jeno’s arms, swaying to the music as he whispers something in her ear that has her throwing her head back in laughter. You sigh, jealously creeping into your heart at your best friend’s love.

“Yeah, they’re usually like that. Although it’s gotten worse recently, I will say,” you say while laughing, turning back around to see Karina doing the same, “I can’t be mad when I see them, though - just jealous.”

Karina quips her brow up at you, “no one special in your life, y/n?” You look back at her in surpise, which she seems to take as anger, “not like you don’t have anyone special or anything! Just, are you single is all I mean..” she trails off, obviously experiencing a severe case of foot in mouth syndrome. Karina internally hits herself on the head - she really liked you and your friends, and although she would never admit it she can’t help but feel intimidated by all of you. She would hate to ruin the chance of friendship with her bluntness that people typically aren’t fans of. Before she can apologize, she is surprised when you start laughing.

“No, no! You’re okay don’t worry I got what you meant. No, nobody special right now. But with my schedule it probably wouldn’t work out. Any free time I have is usually spent being lazy, or satisfying haechan and his need for attention.” You laugh while rolling your eyes playfully. Just then, the spot to your right is taken by Ningning. You liked her, she was so sweet and you couldn’t help but find her love for coffee endearing. When she told you about her desire to open her own coffee shop, you saw a lot of yourself in her; a girl with dreams who wants to be her own boss. As if feeling a kinship between the two of you, her presence eases away some awkwardness you felt almost immediately.

“Ahh yes, we know a lot about Haechan’s neediness. It’s nice having you around because you take a lot of heat off of our shoulders!” She exclaims, which causes the three of you to go into a fit of giggles, your heart growing warmer thinking about the boy so easily replacing them with you - it’s nice to feel so wanted.

“Oh yeah, I get it. I told him the other day he uses me like a girlfriend or something,” you recount the day, trailing off somewhat awkwardly as you remembered the embarrassment that followed from that sentence leaving your mouth. While you and Haechan played with each other freely, not really having filters in what you’ll say, that one took the cake and you couldn’t help but feel a little proud, as it was the first thing you’ve ever said that left the tanned boy completely silent. The two don’t seem to notice your sudden uncomfortable nature, or if they do they don’t acknowledge it. You watch Karina’s eyes go wide as she smiles,

“Oh my god remember when we met and you thought I was Haechan’s girlfriend!” The two of you laugh while Ningning seems surprised.

“Wait, what? Did I miss something? I didn’t know you guys have met before…” Ningning seemed somewhat betrayed as she stared at the both of you with wide eyes.

“Ning I’ve told you about this, girl! Y/n thought me and Haechan were together when I was there one day to study with him,”

“-yeah it was just a misunderstanding. Haechan cleared it up though!” You finished, nodding a bit as you watched Ningning’s gears turning in her head. Her eyes go light as she bursts out in laughter, picturing something funny in her head.

“God - imagine Karina and Haechan! I know for a fact Karina would never go for him, right? And vice versa too, you’re just not his type - no offense though,” she pouts at Karina, the former rolling her eyes as she tunes out the conversation and focuses on Giselles music. You find yourself hyper aware of this conversation, oddly invested. You also note that Ningning is on her third beer, and is slightly more intoxicated than you. “But it wouldn’t matter regardless!”

“Why not?” You press, instinctively leaning closer into the brown haired girl as she takes another swig of her beer before continuing her thought.

“Well, haechan has a really big crush on this girl he knows, so he would never go for Karina!” You can see the realization sink into Ningning’s eyes as she processes her own word vomit. Karina, having heard just the tail end of your conversation, snaps her head over to the two of you - suddenly becoming an active listener in this doomed interaction.

You’re not sure if your face showed it, the devastation. Maybe you liked Haechan a lot more than even you realized, because at the mention of some random girl he seemingly liked, your stomach felt as if it had been sucker punched by a WWA fighter. You tried your hardest not to wear your heart on your sleeve, just giving a slight nod and a deflated, “oh, that’s cool…”

Yeah, good job with that y/n.

Ningning can see your disappointment, even if she doesn’t understand it. Maybe you’re upset that Haechan didn’t tell you? Of course, why would he tell you - it’s you that he likes. But, you don’t know that, so of course it would upset you. She realizes that she needs to cover her tracks, at the very least so you don’t go moping to Haechan and get her in trouble.

Giselle ends her second to last song and fades into her final and most popular, the crowd screaming while Ningning actively leans in closer to you to make a point to say, “well he likes her but she doesn’t really know so there’s probably not a great chance for them! But you should ask Haechan about it - I mean he’ll definitely tell you because he’s like obsessed with you. NOT IN A WEIRD WAY or anything! Just like..normal obsessed like how people are obsessed with their friends! But like yeah that girl he’s OBSESSED with in a romantic way and he really wants her he talks about her like alll the time..BUT yeah you should ask him if you don’t know because he’ll definitely tell you about it yknow..haha yeah..anyway I’m gonna go get some water BYE Y/N!” And with that, she quickly retreats to the snack table, hitting herself on the head as she realizes she just made things much much worse. With a sigh, you turn back to the concert. Karina gives you a look of confusion, not having heard the last thing Ningning said over the crowd screaming. You shake your head with a small smile, trying to act like it’s all cool, trying to act like your heart isn’t breaking.

Haechan likes someone. He likes a girl and he didn’t even tell you. You’ve gotten to know him so much over the last 6 months, you hang out almost every day and tell each other everything. He’s been in multiple videos now and the fans love him. You eat dinner together all the time and have a tv show that you watch together and get mad at each other if someone watches ahead. Haechan is your everything, and he didn’t even tell you he had a crush on another girl.

Giselle and winter were right, you should have never gotten this involved with him. You should have protected your heart and realized you cannot date your neighbor. There’s so much you should have done, but as you turn your head and lock eyes with his brown gaze - he grins at you in a boyish manner like the both of you have a secret that only you two know - you don’t think it was ever possible to not get this far with him. Haechan has possessed your mind and heart completely, and you let him.

What a stupid crush, y/n.

GG! (Good Game!) 👾

Notes: yay everyone met‼️ guys it’s getting spicccyyyy

☆ Masterlist ☆

Prev ─〇───── Next

⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

Taglist: @n0hyuck @dudekiss3r @injunnie-lemon @yewshi @222brainrot @dokgrayson @lttlekomori @multifandomania @sunflowerbebe07 @beommii @markeroolee @lionzyon @starfilledgaze @lostinneocity @insaneanddrained @chenlesfavorite @hyucktion @lampcults @nctjunie @oreosareara @stqrgr7 @catpjimin @chan-yeoldelling

<message or comment to be added to taglist; status: open>

[merwgue]

Why Feyre Shouldn't Have Been High Lady of the Night Court (and Why Lucien & Elain Shouldn’t Lead the Day Court Without Putting in the Work)

Alright, let’s get one thing straight: being the High Lady or High Lord of a court isn’t about looking pretty, having magical powers, or being able to swing a sword. It’s not some fantasy crown you can just plop on your head and suddenly you’re ruling a kingdom. No, being a leader is about more than just political power—it’s about knowing the people, their culture, their traditions. It’s about being part of the community, not just ruling it from a fancy chair.

And that’s where we run into a problem with Feyre. I mean, bless her heart, but let’s be real: three months in the Night Court, and boom, she’s High Lady? It’s like showing up to a new job, sitting in a few meetings, and then declaring yourself CEO. Girl, you haven’t even figured out where the coffee machine is yet!

The Night Court has centuries of history, deep-rooted traditions, festivals, and customs that Feyre couldn’t possibly know in just a few months. She was still figuring out the whole “Inner Circle” dynamic and hadn’t really gotten to know the people or the intricacies of the court’s culture. And yet, she’s handed the title of High Lady like it’s a participation trophy. Sure, she may have bonded with Rhys and the gang, but knowing a few people in power isn’t the same as understanding the heart and soul of an entire court.

Leading isn’t just about power and politics—it’s about making people feel seen and heard. It’s about knowing what makes them tick, what they value, and how they celebrate. How can you guide people if you don’t even understand what they’re all about? How do you unite a court when you don’t know what unites them? Leadership isn’t just about making decisions; it’s about connecting with the people you’re leading. And let’s be real, if you don’t know the culture, you’re going to end up making some pretty awkward blunders along the way.

Now, let’s talk about Lucien and Elain, because if they become High Lord and High Lady of the Day Court without putting in some serious time there, I’m holding them to the same standard. I love Lucien, don’t get me wrong—he’s my cutey patootie—but leading a court isn’t just about showing up and throwing your weight around. Lucien hasn’t been a part of the Day Court as an adult, and Elain… well, let’s just say her resume in court politics is a little thin.

If Lucien and Elain waltz into the Day Court and start calling the shots without first understanding the history, the culture, and the people, it’s going to be a disaster. They need to spend some serious time under Helion’s wing, learning about the traditions and festivals, understanding what makes the Day Court tick. Otherwise, they’re just going to look like tourists trying to lead a country they don’t understand. It’s like trying to host a party in a house you’ve never been in before—you’re bound to knock over a few vases and spill some drinks.

And don’t even get me started on the whole "High Lady of the Night Court" situation again. Leading isn’t just about making political decisions or winning battles. It’s about fostering a sense of community. It’s about celebrating the court’s culture and traditions, making sure people feel united. If you don’t even know what those traditions are, how can you possibly lead? Feyre got the title before she had the chance to immerse herself in the Night Court’s customs, and that’s a problem. Imagine if she accidentally trampled over centuries-old traditions because she didn’t know any better? Awkward.

At the end of the day, leadership is earned, not handed out like candy at a parade. Feyre, Lucien, Elain—they all need to put in the time to really know the courts they’re leading. It’s not enough to just have power. You have to understand the people, the culture, the history. Otherwise, you’re just a figurehead with no real connection to the court. And let’s be real, nobody wants that.

So, no shade to my guy Lucien, but if he and Elain take the reins of the Day Court, they better put in some work. And Feyre? Well, maybe next time she could spend a few years learning the ropes before jumping straight to the top. It’s not like we’re in a rush or anything, right?

Ty @ae-neon for letting me take inspo of your idea💞❤️

[decentishoutsidersthoughts]

A Hunger games AU?!?!

You are so evil and devious and cruel…

Give me more

I was gonna talk about all of book 1 but the reaping kinda got long so here’s my thoughts on the reaping day

So the Curtis gang all grow up in district 12 and if you thought they were poor before, they’re like barely surviving now. They died when Darry was 16 in this tho. Darry does a LOT of illegal hunting to keep them alive. He makes Soda come with him a lot because if something happens to him he wants them to like- not die-

The rules of these games are that they pull a guy and a girl but anybody can volunteer for anybody

Darry did everything he could to keep his brothers safe while he was a teenager. Soda wasn’t allowed to take out tessera, but when Darry turned 18, there was nothing else to do. They’ve both determined Ponyboy will NEVER take one out. So if I did the math right Soda should have 8 entries and Ponyboy has 2.

Ofc it doesn’t end up meaning much anyways because the time comes and Ponyboy gets reaped. Darry legit almost passes out and Soda is frozen for a couple seconds. But after a couple seconds he comes back to himself and without thinking he volunteers

Ponyboy freaks out, and Steve is like ‘what the fuck are you doing-‘. Darry doesn’t know how to feel ngl but he isn’t surprised. Honestly though nobody in the gang has any hope in Soda, they’re trying to pretend they do though

That would be the end of it, but when they ask for volunteers, who else steps up by Steve Randle. Soda immediately panics and begs him to take it back but Steve already had his heart set on this and there was nothing anyone else could do.

Goodbyes are…a lot. Soda was crying even before he made it into the building, and it got worse the second he saw his brothers. Ponyboy shouted at him for a little bit before curling up in his arms and sobbing. 

Darry was straight to business. He told Soda to stay away from people and hide for as long as possible. He told him not to worry about him and Ponyboy, that they would be fine and waiting for him if he came home. If.

Finally Darry pulls him into a hug, telling Soda how much he loves him. Then, the three minutes are up and Ponyboy are dragged out of the room. Ponyboy fights, and manages to crash into Soda’s arms one more time before he’s dragged out. Soda cracks open the door and peeks out, immediately shutting it when the last glimpse he gets of Darry is his holder brother crying.

Dally, Two, and Johnny all come in at the same time. Two and Johnny don’t say much, just wrapping him into a hug. Two starts to promise that he’ll be okay,  but Dally yells not to say that

Dally proceeds to tell him he’s fucked once he’s in that arena. Once the games start there is absolutely nothing he can do for himself. So, he needs to make every second before that count if he wants to stand a chance. He’s handsome, he’s charismatic, he can get the audience to fall in love with him and that’s what he needs to do. He’s about to tell Soda something else, but time runs out and they’re dragged out of the room before he can.

His next visitor is a shock to him. Paul Holden, who’s the mayors son, comes in and calmly sits across from him, they make pointless conversation until Soda asks why he’s there. Paul says he doesn’t know. They sit in silence for the rest of the time, and Paul leaves willingly when the time comes. As he’s leaving he tells Soda his brothers will be fine, and that they’ll eat as long as he has something to say about it

After that Soda just spends some time alone trying to compose himself. At least for the moment, he makes peace with the fact that he’s probably going to die next week. His sadness turns into anger at Steve

Eventually he gets taken to the train, on the way him and Steve walk by eachother. They don’t talk but the tension is already there. Steve hadn’t cried at all yet, his dad didn’t even come to see him and the gang already knew what he was doing and didn’t try to talk him out of it. (Darry had come in crying, and thanked Steve once he learned of the plan. Steve promised to bring his brother home)

These boys tear up the food table in the train. They both feel super sick after. They meet their mentor and escort though. Their mentor is a drunk like Haymitch is, and Soda takes it as the first of many signs showing how absolutely fucked he is.

Neither of them like the escort much. Steve hates her and Soda thinks she’s well meaning but she also keeps talking about how lucky they are to be here. Eventually they both just leave and are left alone in the hallway.

They have the first genuine argument they’ve ever had. Soda yells at Steve for putting himself at stake like that, and for putting them into a situation where they have to compete for their lives. And then Steve says that they’re not competing because they’re getting Soda home, and that just makes him more upset

The fight ‘ends’ when Steve says it was Soda’s fault they’re here anyways cause he’s the one who volunteered first. Soda asks if he should’ve just let his little brother die and Steve doesn’t respond. Soda storms off to his room, Steve goes to his, and this time they both cry into their pillows. 

[erendur]

Beren and Lúthien and the role of magic in Tolkien

This is another post along the lines of “Why I don’t like Beren and Lúthien”. If you like Beren and Lúthien, good for you, enjoy, and Tolkien loves you. If you don’t like reading criticisms of Beren and Lúthien, don’t read this. Fellow non-enjoyers of Beren and Lúthien, welcome.

I’ve already talked in another post about the fact that I find the tone of Beren and Lúthein jarring. I personally do not want to read a fairy tale on the middle of my tragic tale of loss and destruction. Another thing that annoys me about B&L, and the subject of this post, is that I feel it breaks low-magicness of Tolkien’s universe, and it makes the story stand out in an annoying way.

So, bear with me. I think that, overall, The Hobbit, LOTR and the Silm have a rather sparse use of magic. Sure, there are characters who have magical powers, and magical objects, but the brunt of the action happens with non-magical means. The Hobbit is not solved by Gandalf making use of his magical powers ; actually he is sent away by Tolkien at a crucial point, so that the story can happen. LOTR is not solved by Gandalf or Elrond either, but by plain little hobbits. Magic takes a back seat.

In the Silm, I’d say that magic has a mostly infrastructury-role. The Valar shape Middle-Earth, then Valinor, and Ulmo (Ulmo ?) moves an island to get the Elves across the Ocean. The rest of the time, we don’t see them do magic. They don’t magically carry the Elves to Valinor : they have to take a long, dangerous trip. The Noldor go back to Middle Earth by boat, or on foot. 

Melian is a magical being, but the only magical things she does are a) the Girdle (a magical barrier to protect a kingdom - infrastructure) and b) use her gift of prescience to try and give advice that nobody listens to.

Magic also provides Gondolin with a protection (another magicy-infrastructure), and of course we have a couple (a couple ?) magical hidden bodies of water, plus the magic of the Silmarils. Ulmo turns Elwing into a bird. There are a couple of magical rescues by eagles. But that’s it.

The rest of the book, and the action, is pretty magic-free. The Noldor do not fight Morgoth with magic, they fight him with swords, cavalry and their superior physical strength. Morgoth himself, apart from the curse on Húrin and the spell on Maeglin, does not really use magic, or only to create creatures that he uses as soldiers against the Noldor. The Valar eventually defeat him not in a magical duel, Harry Potter style, but by sending a host of soldiers. Eärendil kills Glaurung, sure, but that’s not really the main action.

And I like that, because the story and the actions then happen because of the qualities, or the flaws of the characters. 

In Beren and Lúthien though, we have : Finrod somehow using magic to make himself, Beren and his companions look like orcs ; a magical song competition ; Lúthien escaping from her prison thanks to magical hair and a magical cloak ; Huan the magical dog suddenly choosing sides and speaking ; Lúthien defeating Sauron in another magical song competition, and Sauron shape-shifting and becoming a vampire ; Beren and Lúthien donning a magical disguise to sneak into Angband ; Lúthien putting the whole of Angband into a magical sleep ; a magical rescue by eagles (another one) ; a magical resurrection. 

It’s much more magic-heavy than anything else in the Silm or even The Hobbit, and for me it just lowers the stakes, and makes me care about the character less, because there is no real sense of danger, no real sense that these people are defying odds. I care about Gandalf because he is scared, and looks like a frail old man, and knows he can’t really take on a Balrog, but does it anyway. I care about Fingolfin defying Morgoth because I know he can’t possibly win, but he still manages to wound him. I care about Fingon on his magical rescue missions because, boy oh boy, without magical eagle interventions would things have gone wrong (or even before that). 

I don’t have the feeling that, at any point, Lúthien is in any danger, or not going to get her way (Beren is a bit different : he’s a strong warrior, sure, but a regular guy, and I do feel for him as he’s trying to get to Finrod, holding up the ring of Baradur, without getting shot by his sentries, or when he is in that dungeon with the werewolves - the minute he’s with Lúthien though, I feel like “Eh, he’ll be fine”). That’s also part of the reason why the Celegorm and Curfufin part of that story doesn’t stick with me. Not only do I find it nonsensical (they suddenly have two brains cells and are trying to invent diplomatic marriage, apparently, which would be a first ever since we do not hear of any such marriage in the whole of the Silm, and while most of the Noldor leaders (and Cirdan) seem in no hurry to marry themselves, diplomatically or not), but also, again, there is no real sense of danger. She already escaped once, from a far more secure prison, I don’t buy for one moment that C&C, exiled princes with their dog, of all people, are the ones who are going to best Lúthien. At this stage the only reason she doesn’t escape earlier than she does is because she either likes the food or want to not hurt their pride too much (I am, obviously, exaggerating here for effect…)

And because Lúthien is so powerful, her actions and its effects have to be limited, otherwise she could easily put an end to the story. So, of course, some people feel disappointed, and frankly, annoyed with her. That one so powerful achieves so little, when countless others try as hard as they can with much more limited means. Sons of Fëanor aside, what would Fingolfin have done, had he had a tenth of her powers ? She uses all this power for - what ? Marrying her guy (which she could easily have done post the Sauron episode, by the way - there were only the two of them, and she tells Beren that he could just forsake his oath and roam the face of the earth with her) and giving a Silmaril to her dad, who (checks notes) wanted Beren dead, and imprisoned her (and if we want to go all XXIst century on B&L and call Celegorm a rapist, can we go wtf on this one for a moment ?)

I also feel, and I don’t even know if that’s an aside or not at this point, that the story feels at odds thematically because of that. I see people saying that it fits with the overall theme of hope, but I don’t think the Silm is about hope. That’s LOTR. I think it’s about faith, rebellion, pride and destruction. The characters who drive the action (Morgoth, the Noldor) are the ones who rebel against a legitimate, sacred authority (Eru, the Valar), out of pride (and because of Morgoth’s lies, in the case of the Noldor), and who then reap the consequences of it (death, the progressive destruction of Beleriand).  We are told, several times, that Manwë would have listened to the pleas of the Noldor, had they sent him prayers. They don’t, and they keep suffering because of it.

The positive figures in the story are the ones who keep their faith in the Valar : Fingon pulls off the magical rescue because he cries out to Manwë ; Turgon gets his hidden magical city because he listens to Ulmo (and would have potentially saved all of his people if he’d evacuated his city when told to do so by Ulmo) ; Eärendil manages to save Middle Earth because he puts his faith in the Valar, and not a small amount of effort in trying to reach them. Cirdan, although a very peripheral figure, is also one that is deeply linked to the Valar, and I think that’s why eventually his realm and people survive (even if they take several severe beatings), and he raises/protects the non-arguably best High King of the Noldor ever (Gil-Galad).

The overall message of the story is also that these people are not going to beat Evil, not with their own strength only, not without faith. It’s the host of the Valar that eventually beats Morgoth ; in the Second Age, its a great alliance of Men and Elves that beats Sauron, but the one individual to deal the decisive blow, Isildur, is a mere, non-magical man, characterised by his faith. In LOTR obviously, we have repeated, again, the message that these grand kings, princes and sorcerers, are not the ones who defeat evil once and for all, because, as we’ve seen aplenty in both the Silm and LOTR, these people, the best of the best, get easily corrupted, unless they have faith.

Unless the overall message of the story is that you can’t expect salvation from the pampered daughter of a goddess and a mighty king, because she’s only interested in her own person. In that case, my little Republican heart agrees. Yeah, Beren and Lúthien, the secretly anti-monarchist story of the Silm.

[kangshxrtie]

23 . photos . written

prev . main

you opened the door to see xinyu standing there with a faint smile, “took you long enough.”

raising an eyebrow, you leaned against the doorframe. “i can close the door and make you go back home.”

xinyu, always quick, slipped inside before you could even finish. “i was just selling the whole ‘crazy in love’ thing. gotta be convincing, right?”

you scoffed, but a smile was already tugging at your lips. “yeah, sure. well, you definitely convinced my neighbors i’m dating a psycho.”

xinyu put her bag down and threw herself onto your couch like she owned the place, stretching out. “still better than your last ex-girlfriend.”

rolling your eyes, you sat down next to her, shaking your head. “you’re way too comfortable here for a fake girlfriend.”

xinyu leaned closer, smirking as she dropped her voice. “who says it’s all fake?”

her words hung in the air for a second too long, making your heart skip a beat. you blinked, quickly brushing it off with a roll of your eyes. “don’t joke like that.”

xinyu chuckled, leaning back casually. “i’m just playing, practicing for later.”

“right...” you muttered, glancing away to avoid her gaze. “so, should we take photos while you’re here? for the plan?”

xinyu’s eyes lit up. “yes! nakyoung’s gonna lose her mind, and sohyun’s definitely watching too.”

you shot her a sideways glance. “and what about you? all this for sohyun, huh?”

for the briefest moment, xinyu hesitated, a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place passing through her eyes. “i mean, that’s the point, right? to get our exes back?”

you nodded slowly, though something in her voice made you feel... off. “yeah... right.”

an awkward silence settled between you for a few seconds before xinyu, never one to let things stay quiet for too long, grinned playfully. “so, since i’m already here… what’s for dinner, girlfriend?”

without missing a beat, you grabbed a pillow from the couch and tossed it at her. “you can order takeout yourself. i’m not your servant.”

xinyu caught the pillow mid-air, laughing. “that’s not what you were saying in that post you ‘totally’ didn’t mean.”

you groaned, half-laughing despite yourself. “shut up!”

you watched as xinyu toyed with the pillow she’d caught. her laugh still lingered in the air, a sound you’d gotten used to but one that never failed to catch you off guard. it was almost too natural, the way she was here, sprawled out like she belonged.

“stop staring at me,” xinyu teased without looking up, tossing the pillow back onto the couch. “i know i’m hot, but you don’t need to make it obvious.”

you rolled your eyes, the sarcasm in her voice dragging you out of your thoughts. “literally nobody was staring at you.”

“mhm, sure,” she hummed, grabbing her phone and scrolling through her feed. “but seriously, we should take some photos.”

you leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees. “what do you have in mind? like, the usual cute couple stuff?”

xinyu grinned, her eyes darting up to meet yours with a mischievous gleam. “obviously. we gotta go all out this time.”

you could feel your heart skip at her suggestions, but you did your best to play it off. “yeah, yeah, i get it. but let’s keep it... reasonable, okay?”

xinyu raised an eyebrow. “reasonable? where’s the fun in that?”

you shot her a look. “xinyu i can still kick you out.”

xinyu chuckled, “don’t be mean”

you groaned, picking up your phone to avoid her gaze. “just take the pictures already.”

xinyu sat up, moving closer until her leg was touching yours. “okay, okay, i’ll keep them family friendly.”

you wanted to respond, but the way xinyu was looking at you made you want to fold. she was too close, and the teasing tone in her voice was getting harder to ignore.

she positioned herself beside you, adjusting so that her head was closer to yours. “ready?”

you nodded, holding up your phone to snap a selfie. xinyu leaned in, resting her chin on your shoulder, her eyes soft as she smiled for the camera. you took a few more, each one more convincing than the last as xinyu snuck in close, her hand brushing against your arm, her presence filling up every inch of space next to you.

as you sat side by side on the couch, xinyu suddenly leaned in with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “let’s take one where i kiss your cheek,” she suggested, her grin widening.

“wait, what?!” you blurted out.

xinyu grabbed her bag took some bright red lipstick from her bag and put some on her lips before grabbing your chin, “can i?”

you nodded still in confusion about what was happening. she lightly put some lipstick on your lipstick before wiping it a little bit. she recapped the lipstick and then grabbed your chin again and her lips brushed against your cheek lightly as she held the pose for the camera.

the phone clicked multiple times, capturing the moments just as her lipstick smeared onto your skin, leaving a bold red mark. you could feel the warmth of her lips still lingering as you pulled back, blinking in surprise.

xinyu pulled away and laughed, glancing at the photo with satisfaction. “this is the one.”

you wiped at your cheek, noticing the bright smear of her lipstick now smudged across your face. glancing over at her, you saw xinyu’s lips were equally a mess, with the deep red smudging slightly from where she’d leaned in.

as you clicked through the photos, you couldn’t help but notice how natural they looked.

“look good?” xinyu asked, peeking over your shoulder.

“yeah, they’re fine,” you muttered, scrolling through them again.

xinyu smiled, her eyes lingering on yours for just a second longer than necessary before she pulled back, grabbing the tv remote. “now that we’re done with that, what are we watching?”

“you pick.”

as the tv turned on, you leaned back into the couch, trying to focus on anything but the strange feelings creeping up inside you. because if this was all fake... then why did it feel so real?

main . next

taglist ༒ @gtfoiydlyj . @inybits . @baewonlove . @yeetaberry127 . @sananapotter . @happyjuhyun . @nicstumblur . @istphanie . @urmom2314 . @yunalvrrr . @jeindall777 . @saysirhc . @idleyuri . @yerimbrit . @sixflame438 . @artrizzler19 . @lkimyoohyeon .

[electrozeistyking]

individual who has emotionally destroyed people through their fan comics decides to make one involving an in stars and time au

[kacievvbbbb]

Honestly despite my feelings about how the last arc of MHA went down I really love Deku and his story.

I just feel like a lot of the time we get these protagonists whose whole philosophy is it doesn’t matter what you were born as everyone can achieve greatness. But then the series goes on and it turns out that actually it DOES matter because the protagonist has this really great lineage and these really great powers you can only have through birth they were actually born born, predestined if you will, to do this.

But MHA actually sticks to its guns. Midoriya wasn’t revealed to have some great connection to all might that the universe had put in place. He wasn’t defended from some great lineage that makes him uniquely suited to this. Hell All for one didn’t even turn out to be his father, there was no hidden powerful quirk he was always meant to have. He was just Midoriya Izuku a boy who was in the right place at the right time and simply decided to act while the world did nothing. And that’s what really made him a hero.

I don’t know, maybe it’s just me, but I believe him a bit more when he goes anybody can be a hero if you just decide to act