#it just feels like even the writers hate her...

[applecaviar]

Hiii, you've become one of my favorite Lads writers and I absolutely love when you come across my feed, even with your reblogged recs. So firstly, thank you for all you do and practically spoiling us 🥹💖🫶🏾🫶🏾.

I think one of my favorites was your Unholy Trinity story (I read it like 4 times and even shared it with my best friend), and I was wondering if it would be possible to do another story with them but they all plan a night for MC or reader without her knowing? Like MC falls into their trap almost as if they're hunting and cornering her (consensually), leading to a long night of fun? I hope this makes sense 😅

Ten out of ten 🍎❄️🐦‍⬛

The (un)holy Trinity Part #2

Sorry this took me such a long time. I've been really busy and requests are taking longer. 😮‍💨😮‍💨.

I hope this is what you were looking for, if it isn't send me a message and I'll see what I can do. 😀

"In the name of the doctor, the crow and the unholy step bro."

TW:Smut

Art: omi-resources

Ps. Pls don't send hate messages 🙏🏻.

Lost in thought, your mind drifts back to that night four months ago. The memory of being with Caleb, Sylus, and Zayne simultaneously, of feeling their hands on your body and their lips on your skin, sends a shiver down your spine. It was a night of raw passion and intimacy that you can't seem to forget.

So you sit there, contemplating the logistics of broaching the subject of a repeat performance, but you realize that it's not as simple as just coming out and saying it. How do you put into words the desire to feel that intoxicating mix of jealousy, possessiveness, and insatiable lust all over again? How do you express the craving to be the center of attention for three strong, dominant men, without sounding shameless?

You know all too well the personalities that come with each of them. Caleb's jealousy, a side of him that he rarely shows but becomes so evident in the bedroom. Zayne's possessiveness, his need to claim and own every inch of you. And Sylus, with his insatiable libido and ability to turn even the simplest of touches into a sensual experience. Putting them all together is like mixing fire, ice, and electricity, it's dangerous, but the thrill of it all is impossible to resist.

No, you can't just come out and say "Hey, God gave me three holes for a reason, let's fuck." That would be too crass. Besides, their individual personalities would likely complicate matters.

For the past month, you've been going on separate dates with them, all of which were pleasant enough, but left you wanting so much more. The sexual tension that once crackled between you was replaced by polite conversation and gentle hand holding. It was maddening.

Zayne, he'd take you out, treat you to delicious meals at posh restaurants, and engage you in witty banter, only to drop you off at home with a quick peck on the cheek. It was as if he was teasing you, dangling the carrot of his touch, only to snatch it away at the last second.

Caleb, you met him for a couple of lunch dates, his uniform crisp and sharp, that damn, sexy uniform always present. You'd tried to focus on his words, on the conversation, but your mind kept drifting to the strength of his hands, the power they held as they gripped the utensils, or as you imagined them gripping your hips, your thighs, your...damnit. He always seemed oblivious to your internal turmoil, chatting away about his duties.

Sylus, too, had been a fleeting presence, always rushing, always distracted by the chaos in the N109 zone. He'd catch you when he could, stealing a quick kiss in the hallways of his home, his hands gripping your waist with a desperation that spoke of his own frustration.

In the privacy of your own space, you found yourself turning to synthetic companionship, your vibrator becoming a familiar friend as you laid awake at night, your body crying out for their touch. The toy left you satisfied enough to sleep, but always craving more, always yearning for the real thing.

Right now, feeling the weight of four weeks worth of pent up desire, you make a decision as you stand up from your bed. Your body thrums with determination to put an end to your sexual misery. You stride over to your drawer, rummaging through the delicate fabrics until you find the most shameless set of lingerie you own, one that screams sin and indulgence.

You slip it on, the cool lace sending tingles across your heated skin. You take a moment to admire yourself in the mirror, noting how the black contrast against your skin makes you look like a dark fantasy come to life. You're not usually one for such bold displays, but today feels different, urgent. 

Your hands tremble slightly as you apply your makeup, going for a smoky eye that emphasizes the desire burning in your eyes. You paint your lips a deep red the color of seduction. By the time you're done, you hardly recognize yourself. Gone is the usually put together, reserved you. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the night ahead as you grab your coat and head for the door.

As you settle into the passenger seat of Zayne's car, you feel a thrill of anticipation. Tonight, he's taking you back to his place. Fucking finally! (No pun intended lol)

You're wearing a dress a shade shorter than usual, and as you sit, the fabric rides up, exposing a teasing glimpse of your thighs. Zayne's eyes flicker to your exposed skin before he starts the engine and the whole drive to his home you catch him stealing glances, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as if trying to maintain focus.

When you arrive at his house and the front door closes behind you, you waste no time, unable to contain yourself any longer, you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. Your lips move against his with a fervor that takes your breath away, a few seconds stretching into an eternity of blissful connection.

Just as you're losing yourself in the sensation, a voice cuts through the haze, Calebs voice, laced with a joking tone that can't quite mask the tension.

"If you guys needed some time alone, you could have just said so, Zayne"

There's a sharpness to his words, a possessive edge that makes it clear he's not amused by the sight of you kissing Zayne. 

You reluctantly break away from Zayne's embrace, the heat of his lips still tingling on yours as you turn to face Caleb. "What are you doing here?"

"Are you not happy to see me, Pips?"

"It's not that, I just didn't expect to see you here" you admit, a faint blush coloring your cheeks.

"Well then, I guess she won't be happy to see me either."

You recognize that voice instantly, the rich, velvety timbre unmistakable. Your eyes widen as you turn to see Sylus leaning casually against the wall.

You look from one man to the next, your brow furrowed in confusion as you try to make sense of this unexpected gathering.

"I must be missing something here, was there supposed to be a party going on tonight? Because no one mentioned anything about this to me."

You direct your question at all three of them, but your eyes linger on Caleb and Sylus. A part of you can't help but wonder if this was planned, if they conspired to catch you off guard. And if so, to what end?

Zayne steps forward, breaking the silence that followed your question. He places a comforting hand on the small of your back.

"They came over to spend some time with us"

"Unless you wanted to spend the night with just Zayne..." Caleb says, a hint of accusation coloring his words.

You quickly cut him off, not wanting to entertain that particular line of thought. You take a deep breath, looking at each of them in turn before settling your eyes on Caleb. "It's fine, we've all been pretty busy, so I guess we can all spend a few hours together... in peace."

You emphasize the last word, a silent plea for the tension to dissipate. Despite the unexpected turn of events, you're hopeful that these precious moments can still be enjoyed by all of you.

The evening proved to be enjoyable despite the rocky start. Caleb showcased his culinary skills, preparing a delicious meal that had everyone savoring each bite. To complement the food, Sylus contributed one of his finest wines, one of your personal favorites. As the night wore on, laughter and conversation flowed freely, the initial tension melting away into a warm, fuzzy atmosphere.

Hours slipped by unnoticed, and it was nearly midnight when you decided to call it a night. You stood up from the sofa in front of them, stretching slightly as you prepared to retire to the guest bedroom. The three handsome men in the living room with you, combined with the alcohol coursing through your system, made the temptation to linger almost irresistible.

But as you took a step towards the hallway, Sylus's voice stopped you in your tracks. "So you're really not going to tell us what you want?"

His words hung heavy in the air, the unspoken meaning crystal clear to everyone present.

You turned around slowly, your heart pounding as you found yourself the center of attention. All eyes were fixed on you, three pairs of intense gazes boring into your very soul.

"What do you mean?" you asked, your voice coming out softer than intended. Inside, you knew exactly what Sylus was implying, but a part of you couldn't believe he was being so blatant about it.

Zayne and Caleb exchanged glances, chuckles escaping their lips as they watched the exchange unfold.

"You have been eye fucking us all night, kitten. And if I were to slip my hand under that dress of yours and touch your pretty little pussy right now, I'd bet my life it's absolutely soaking wet. So the real question is, why are you leaving?"

His words were crude, vulgar even, but the way he said them, the desire dripping from every syllable, made your knees feel weak. You gripped the back of a nearby chair for support, suddenly feeling like you needed something solid to keep you upright. The room spun slightly, and you weren't sure if it was from the wine or Sylus's words.

"Why don't you sit back down and tell us what you want, Pips? We're here to give you what you want, all you need to do is ask"

Feeling like you were in a trance, you took a few steps towards the sofa "I don't know what you guys are talking about..." 

Zayne cut through your hesitation "Sit... down" he ordered, his voice leaving no room for disobedience. It was the same tone he used when he needed you to focus on something important, and it worked just as well now.

As if pulled by an invisible string, you sank back into the sofa, the plush cushions enveloping you. The sensation of sinking down felt like surrender, like giving in to the inevitable.

Sylus's voice drifted over to you, his praise making your heart flutter. "Good girl" he said, his words dripping with approval. You felt a rush of warmth spread through you at his words, your core clenching at the simple praise.

Zayne drained the last of the wine from his glass and set the empty tumbler down on the small table beside the sofa. He leaned back, his posture relaxed yet attentive as he fixed his eyes on you.

"Now," he began, "how long have you been craving the three of us again? And why didn't you say anything?"

You felt your cheeks burn as you processed Zayne's question. A wave of embarrassment crashed over you, realizing you had walked straight into their trap. It was so obvious now, the way they had been watching you, the loaded comments and the charged atmosphere. You cursed yourself for not seeing it sooner.

Trying to hide your flustered expression, you averted your eyes, turning your face away from their stares. A pretty blush colored your cheeks a deep pink, mirroring the wine you had enjoyed throughout the night.

"How did you...?" You asked, but you already knew the answer. The way you had been eyeing them all evening, the lingering glances, the flushed cheeks, it was all the evidence they needed to put the pieces together.

"Tsk, don't try to act so shy, sweety. Answer the question." There was no use pretending anymore, no more feigning innocence. You were well and truly caught.

Your voice came out as a breathy whisper " A while..."

"We've ruined you forever, haven't we?" Sylus asked, and there was a note of smugness in his tone. He knew the power they held over you, the effect their presence had on your senses and your desires.

Unable to deny it any longer, you nodded slowly, the movement almost imperceptible. 

Zayne, never one to miss an opportunity to take control, leaned in and voiced the unspoken desire that hung heavy in the room. "Take off your dress Y/N" he ordered. It was a demand for you to bare yourself to them, to offer yourself up willingly.

You stood again and reached for the zipper at the back of the dress, the metal tab cool against your fingertips. You could feel all three pairs of eyes watching your every move, their attention a physical weight that made your skin prickle. Slowly, you dragged the zipper down, the sound of the teeth parting echoing in the stillness of the room.

The dress loosened around you as the zipper reached the bottom, and with a gentle shrug of your shoulders, you let the garment slip off your body. The soft fabric whispered as it slid down your curves, the dress pooling at your feet.

As the dress hit the floor with a soft rustle, a united groan echoed through the room. It was as if they had been so in sync, so attuned to each other's thoughts and desires, that they reacted as one.

Suddenly self conscious, a surge of heat rushed to your face, painting your cheeks a deeper, more vivid shade of red. You remembered the lingerie you had chosen to wear beneath the dress, a lacy set of delicate fabric and provocative design. The matching bra and panties were made of a thin material, the lace so sheer that it left little to the imagination. They were a secret indulgence, a private fantasy that you had dared to wear, hoping that perhaps, just maybe, one of them might catch a glimpse and appreciate the effort.

The way their eyes moved over your nearly naked body, taking in every curve, made your heart race. You could see the effect your near nudity was having on them, the way their pupils dilated, the slight parting of their lips as they drank in the sight of you.

 You sank back down onto the plush sofa, the soft fabric cool against your newly exposed skin. The weight of their eyes made you acutely aware of every inch of your body and you hugged your arms around yourself, a instinctive gesture of modesty that only served to draw their attention to the swell of your breasts

Just as you settled into the cushions, you saw Zayne rise from his seat with fluid grace. He moved towards you, each step purposeful until he stood before you, close enough that you could feel the tension radiating off his body. Then he knelt down on one knee, bringing himself to your level, his eyes never leaving yours.

He posed his question softly, politely, ever the gentleman despite the charged atmosphere. "May I?"

In response, you nodded, a small movement, but one that held a world of unspoken permission.

Slowly, he gathered your long hair in one fist, his fingers sifting through the strands until he had a handful. He pulled it to the side, baring the column of your neck and shoulder, and granting himself access to the skin of your chest.

You felt his warm fingers reach for the delicate lace of your bra. With a gentle tug, he peeled the cups down, the material slipping away to reveal the soft, rounded curves of your breasts. A soft gasp escaped your lips at the sensation, your nipples pebbling in the cooler air.

His hands were warm and sure as he cupped the weight of your breasts, his long, elegant fingers easily enveloping the soft mounds. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, the fleeting touch making you arch into his hands instinctively. Then he began to tease your nipples, rolling the sensitive peaks between his fingers.

Each pinch, each tug, each gentle twist sent shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your body, making your back arch and your toes curl.

The sensation was glorious, it was as if every nerve ending in your breasts had come alive firing with electric pleasure as he played your body like an instrument.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of the sofa cushion, gripping the soft material as you struggled to anchor yourself against the overwhelming onslaught of sensation. Your chest heaved with each breath, your breasts pushing into Zayne's palms as if begging for more of his touch. The heat between your legs intensified, your core clenched and fluttered around nothing as the ache for fulfillment grew more urgent with each passing second.

"We have a little bit of time to do this the way we wanted to from the beginning," he murmured as his fingers found the clasp of your bra, and with a single flick, he unhooked it, allowing the delicate garment to fall away.

But just as suddenly, he paused, a flicker of sense amidst the haze of lust. His eyes met yours, and with a decisive movement, he scooped you up into his arms, your body molding against the hard planes of his chest. The sudden shift in position made you gasp, your arms instinctively looping around his neck for support.

He stood, holding you effortlessly against him. With a nod towards the others, a silent communication passing between the three men, he began to carry you towards his bedroom.

He shouldered open the door to his bedroom, the heavy wood swinging inward to reveal the spacious, dimly lit room. The bed loomed before you, the dark sheets inviting and enticing. He carried you to the edge of the mattress, his fingers tightening on your thighs as he slowly lowered you down. Your body sank into the soft comforter, the luxurious fabric a sensual caress against your bare skin.

"Wrap your legs around my shoulders"

You hesitated, a sudden wave of shyness washing over you. Your legs remained draped over the edge of the bed, your ankles crossed as you resisted his silent command.

"What's wrong, kitten? If I remember well, you really like it when he eats your pussy," Sylus remarked, a smirk on his lips as he leaned back against the doorframe, watching the scene unfold with keen interest.

But that wasn't the reason for your hesitation. Far from it. 

Rising to his feet, Zayne adjusted your position, gently maneuvering you until you were straddling his face. Your hips hovered just above his mouth, close enough to feel his warm breath ghosting over your folds.

"Oh...oh, I see," Zayne murmured, his fingers tightened on your hips, tugging you a little closer. "They're crotchless."

"Naughty kitten," Sylus purred and moved closer, drawn by the sight of you poised above Zayne. "You ready to let her fuck your face, Zayne?" 

You cried out as Zayne tugged you down, pressing your nearly bare pussy against his mouth. Throwing your head back, you instinctively raised your hips, overwhelmed by the sudden contact.

Caleb was quick to intervene, using his evol he pulled you down slightly "Don't pull away from him, princess. Smother him, sit on his face."

Zayne, his head now resting flat on the mattress, looked up at you "Sweet girl, I've got you, now stop hovering and sit on my damn face." His fingers moved impatiently as he urged you to take full advantage of your position.

The moment your hips settled against his mouth, he set to work, his tongue swiping hot and firm over your sensitive clit. You couldn't hold back the sharp gasp that escaped your lips. Your fingers instinctively reached out behind you, grasping at the firm muscles of Zayne's chest for support.

Your hips began to move on their own, undulating and grinding against Zayne's mouth as waves of pleasure crashed over you, making your core throb and ache with a desperate need for release.

Zayne's hands gripped your buttocks tightly, spreading your cheeks apart as he delved deeper, his tongue plunging into your dripping entrance.

You felt Sylus settle in behind you. Somehow, in your haze, you didn't notice he was undressing. Now, his naked body pressed against your back and his stiff cock nestled between your ass.

His hands came around to cup your breasts. His thumbs and forefingers rolling and tugging at your nipples until they stiffened into peaks. Pleasure sparked from your breasts, adding to the growing inferno building between your thighs.

You leaned back against Sylus, resting your head on his chest as he toyed with your breasts. Your body was a live wire of sensation, every nerve ending alight and singing with bliss. Sylus's lips brushed your ear as he spoke.

"Did you know, Colonel, that our girl here is a messy squirter? You just have to press the right buttons at the same time. Our sweet kitten is sensitive to our touch, in all the right places." 

As if to demonstrate his point, Sylus's hands left your breast, trailing down the valley of your spine until it reached the apex of your thighs. His fingers brushed against your folds, parting them gently to allow the thick head of his cock to nestle between them. The heat of him radiated against your sensitive flesh, making your walls clench and flutter in anticipation.

Zayne's mouth shifted its focus, his tongue working that aching, throbbing bud at the apex of your sex. He suckled it gently, drawing it into his mouth as he laved it with the flat of his tongue.

Sylus let out an appreciative groan as he began to slowly sink himself inside you "Biiiiig stretch, baby," he murmured, his voice strained with pleasure "Fuck sweety, how are you still this fucking tight?"

A moan spilled from your lips as you felt Sylus bottom out inside you, his hips flush against your ass. The stretch was intense, your body struggling to accommodate his size, even as your slick walls pulsed and rippled around him, trying to draw him deeper.

Lost in the feeling of being so utterly filled, your eyes had drifted shut. But as the pleasure crested, your lids fluttered open, and you found yourself staring into Caleb's intense, dark eyes. He stood before you, his own arousal evident in the tightness of his jaw and the prominent bulge straining against his pants.

He couldn't look away, he watched the way you moved your hips shamelessly, chasing your pleasure without restraint. He saw the way Zayne's flat tongue licked Sylus's heavy balls, before continuing its journey to lave over your puffy clit. The lewd display hinted at a familiarity, a practiced ease between the two men. It was clear they had done this before, had pleasured and been pleasured by each other in countless intimate ways.

Sylus let out a sharp, breathy curse, his hips jerking involuntarily as he felt the slick glide of Zayne's tongue over his sensitive sack again. "Fuck, Zayne!"

Caleb moved closer to your side, drawn by the bounce and sway of your breasts. Unable to resist the alluring sight, he leaned in, his warm breath ghosting over the sensitive peak of your nipple before he took it into his mouth.

His tongue swirled around the stiff bud, twisting and flicking in a way that sent electric sparks straight to your cunt. The added stimulation was too much, and with a sharp cry, your orgasm crashed over you.

You felt Sylus's fat cock head slam into that spot deep inside you, and your body responded with a gush of fluid. Your walls clamped down viciously around his length, rippling and squeezing as your arousal gushed out around his shaft.

"Shit, she squirts so hard," Caleb groaned, pulling back to watch with hooded, appreciative eyes.

"Told you, she is a messy squirter" said Sylus as he pulled out.

Blinking away the haze of pleasure, you found Caleb no longer beside you, but sitting back against the headboard of the large bed. To your surprise and delight, you saw that his cock had been freed from the confines of his pants. He was stroking it slowly, his fingers wrapped around it, the movement deliberate and enticing.

"Come here, princess" The timbre of his tone left no doubt that he wanted...no, needed you.

Still trembling slightly from your recent climax, you crawled towards Caleb without hesitation. Your body moved on instinct, already knowing what he craved, what he was silently begging for. You nestled yourself between his spread legs, your hands grasping his thighs as you leaned in, taking his thick, hard length into your mouth.

His head fell back against the headboard with a guttural moan. "Fuck, Y/N," his fingers moved through your hair, holding you close.

"Your mouth feels like a goddamn dream..."

You loved the way his hips twitched, his body responding instinctively to the feel of your tongue swirling around the sensitive crown of his cock.

Suddenly, a sharp slap rang out, the sound of skin connecting with skin echoing through the room. The stinging slap on your ass made you gasp around Caleb's shaft, the sound muffled and choppy.

"Ass up, love," Zayne ordered

Your body tensed for a moment when you felt Zayne's heavy cock press against your cunt, anticipating the impending intrusion, before you felt him thrust forward, sheathing himself inside you with one stroke.

"Fuck, you clench me like you were made for me" he rasped, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he began to move.

At first, his thrusts were fast and shallow, you felt yourself starting to adjust, your body falling into sync with his urgent pace, when suddenly, he changed tactics.

His thrusts slowed to a deep, sensual roll that had you seeing stars. The glide of his cock along your walls was exquisite torture, stoking the embers of your arousal into a raging inferno once more. Unable to help yourself, you let out a desperate, muffled plea around Caleb's cock.

"Pleaseeee..."

The sound was garbled, barely intelligible, but the meaning was clear. You needed more, craved the stimulation of his hard flesh splitting you open.

"That's it, Pips," Caleb fisted his hand in your hair, guiding your head as he began to use your mouth "Take it deeper. You love having your throat fucked, don't you?"

You could only nod, your jaw relaxing, allowing Caleb to sink even deeper into your mouth. Drool leaked from the corners of your stretched lips as you gagged and sputtered around him, tears springing to your eyes from the intensity of the deep throat fucking.

His dick pulsed and throbbed against your tongue, the thick vein on the underside catching your attention. You ran the flat of your tongue along the ridged flesh, feeling it jump and twitch in response

Caleb let out a strangled curse, his head thrown back against the headboard as your mouth worked wonders on his cock. "Goddamn it!" he growled "Who taught her this?

"Who do you think, Colonel?" Sylus asked, a note of pride evident in his tone. "Our feisty little kitten has had plenty of one on one lessons from yours truly."

You moved your head lower, taking Caleb's cock deeper into your throat until your nose pressed against his pelvis. The musky scent of his arousal filled your nostrils as you swallowed around his length, your throat constricting deliciously around him.

His reaction was immediate and intense. His arms shot up to the headboard above him, grasping the wood as if seeking an anchor amidst the storm of sensation.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" he groaned, his eyes squeezing shut.

You began to bob your head up and down in the same relentless rhythm that Zayne was pounding into your core from behind. 

"Is it too much for you, sweety? You look like you're drowning in cock, kitten."

You tried valiantly to continue sucking Caleb, to bring him the same pleasure Zayne was giving you. But your orgasm crested and your body seized. The scream that tore from your throat was muffled by the cock lodged deep in your throat, your voice vibrating around Caleb's flesh.

The way your pussy clenched and rippled around Zayne was too much for him to resist. He slammed into you one final time, his cock pulsing as he found his release. His hot cum flooded your core, painting your walls as he ground his pelvis against your ass, pushing his cock as deep as it would go.

Sylus watched as Zayne continued to move, his cum dripping out of your pussy. "Would you look at that, she takes you beautifully, doesn't she, doctor?"

Before either of you could say something, Sylus was moving. He wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you effortlessly as if you weighed nothing at all. He positioned you to straddle Caleb's hips, your back pressed against his chest, your ass hovering just above his cock.

And then he moved to kneel between your splayed thighs, his fingers gripping your pussy lips and spreading them wide. He watched as Zayne's release began to dribble out of your puffy hole.

Your head lolled back against Caleb's chest, your hair tickling his chin as you gasped for breath. Suddenly you felt something soft and silky being wrapped around your eyes, plunging you into darkness.

"Do you think she'll be able to take us both just as well, Colonel?"

Your other senses, already heightened from the intense pleasure, seemed to sharpen in response, your skin tingling with anticipation.

"This is my favorite part, when she gives me that little gasp and then she squeezes me sooo tight" Caleb was thrusting his hips upward, sinking slowly into your core.

Your body instinctively reacted, your walls clenching around the thick cock stretching you open. A gasp escaped your lips and your back arched slightly.

"That's it, baby. Just like that," Caleb praised you as he began to move beneath you.

Just as you were losing yourself in the friction of Caleb's thrusts, you felt Sylus's fingers tighten on your hips, holding you in place. Your breath hitched as you felt the head of his cock nudge against your entrance, still slick with Zayne's release.

"Not so fast, I have to get in there too" 

"Are you fucking crazy?" Caleb asked, his body going rigid beneath you at the thought of Sylus joining in.

Zayne's calm voice cut through the air, reassuring Caleb  "She can handle it, she has done it before."

Before anyone could argue further, you took matters into your own hands, literally. Sylus had barely begun to speak when you reached down, your fingers wrapping around his cock. With a determined grip, you guided him to your entrance, the swollen head pushing insistently against your stretched folds.

Caleb gasped, his body tensing again as he felt Sylus's cock nestle against his own. He bit back a curse, his fingers digging into the soft globes of your ass as he struggled to process the intense sensation. "I don't think we'll both fit," he said, his voice strained with concern.

But Sylus was already in motion, your eager guidance spurring him on. He began to push forward and your body yielded to the pressure, your walls stretching even wider.

Your arms moved back automatically, wrapping around Caleb's neck as you braced yourself for what was about to come.

It was pure bliss. As Sylus's cock sank deeper, you felt a rush of sensation that stole your breath away. The stimulation of having both men inside you, their cocks rubbing and throbbing against each other was indescribable.

"Oh fuck," you gasped, your head falling back against Caleb's shoulder as Sylus's hips met yours. In that moment, you knew you had found a new level of ecstasy, a feeling you would be chasing for the rest of your life. These men had ruined you for anyone else, had set a new standard for pleasure that you knew you could never do without.

"Yes," you hissed. "Use me. Fill me up. I want to feel you both."

Sylus flicked his gaze up to meet Caleb's hooded eyes. He found Caleb staring back at him, his chest heaving with labored breaths, his expression a mirror of the overwhelming pleasure etched on Sylus's own face.

Without a word spoken between them, the two men seemed to reach an unspoken agreement. They began to move in tandem, their hips rolling in a devastating rhythm that had your mind reeling. Sylus would pull back slowly, his cock dragging against Caleb's as he retreated, only to surge forward once more.

Caleb matched him, stroke for stroke, the two men working in perfect sync. The feeling of having not one, but two cocks pumping in and out of your was almost too much to bear. Your body was no longer your own, but a vessel for their shared desire, a playground for them to use for their mutual pleasure.

As they moved, their lengths rubbed and slid against each other. The drag of skin on skin, the press of their shafts pulsing in time with your racing heartbeat, pushed you closer and closer to the edge of a mind shattering climax.

Just as you thought you might shatter from the sheer intensity, Caleb surged forward particularly hard and fast, his cock driving into you with a force that stole your breath away.

"Ooooh my god..." you moaned, back arching as you clung desperately to Caleb's shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.

"Gods, kitten," he purred, his hips never faltering in their rhythm. "There are two of us fucking you right now."

Your arms remained wrapped tightly around Caleb's shoulders and neck, anchoring yourself to him as your body rocked and bounced with the force of their thrusts. 

"You were made for this, love. Made for us," Zayne murmured, his breath hot against your ear. His words confirmed what your body already knew, that you were destined to be the center of their shared desire.

Even as your world narrowed down to the exquisite sensations assaulting your senses, you somehow managed to turn your head towards Zayne's voice. Guided by instinct and the heat of his breath, you found his lips in the darkness, your mouth fusing with his in a desperate, hungry kiss. He drank your moans of pleasure like a man starved, his tongue delving deep.

The stimulation of Sylus's fingers finding your swollen clit, rubbing and circling the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts, and Caleb's fingers pinching and tugging your nipples, sent you hurtling towards a devastating climax.. But it was the feeling of Zayne's lips wrapped around the tip of your tongue, suckling gently, that finally pushed you over the edge.

The orgasm that crashed over you was so intense, that you swore you lost consciousness for a few seconds. Your vision went white, your mind blanking out as undiluted ecstasy flooded every nerve ending. Pleasure so intense that it temporarily stole your grip on reality.

Caleb was the first to succumb, his hips slamming forward one last time before he stilled, buried to the hilt inside your clutching heat. A guttural, almost feral growl tore from his throat as his cock jerked and pulsed, spilling thick ropes of his hot seed deep into you. The sensation of his release triggered Sylus's own, and he followed suit a few seconds later, his shaft throbbing and twitching as he emptied himself inside you, his release mixing with Caleb's.

The silk blindfold was removed from your eyes, and you blinked in the sudden light, your vision slowly adjusting as they pulled their softening cocks from your thoroughly used and dripping pussy.

Instinctively you tried to close your legs, feeling a sudden surge of sensitivity and vulnerability. The movement caused a gush of their releases to spill out, the pearly fluid trickling down the curve of your ass and on the sheets beneath you.

But before you could find any relief in the soothing warmth of your own thighs pressed together, you felt Zayne's firm grip on your knees. He held your legs spread wide, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he kept you exposed.

"Oh no, Y/N," Zayne said  "Keep those legs spread open. We aren't done with you yet."

[cherrys-muses]

i am just gonna do this here and add a ‘see more’ button since it will more than likely get too long 😔

FIRST OF ALL i wanna start with @geminiwritten — the absolute, most sweetest person with a beautiful soul i’ve ever spoken to on this site. one of the accounts i ALSO check to see if she’s posted anything new to divulge in. i’m someone who isn’t very good at reading super long stories, i won’t lie, but i can EASILY get lost in her writing and feel like i am IN the story with no problem or confusion — everything is so thoroughly thought out. 100%, no fail. she deserves MORE HYPE !!!!!!!!!!! it’s crazy how she’s posting these writings for FREE. i have also read fics of people that i don’t necessarily read for on here off of her page, and was blown away honestly. you can tell bee is excited about writing by the way she shares things, or even updates about anything new she’s working on — it’s admirable. bee is genuinely such a warm and kind person. i’m so happy i stayed up til six in the morning lost in her works and im so happy that i can say we are mutuals (not in a weird way 💔) i could sit and write more but 💔

@rebelfell !!!!!! someone who i’ve admired always, even from my last account, i would always be excited to look at anything new she would post! she absolutely deserves all the hype she gets, plus more. i was honestly so flabbergasted when she followed me back.

@28bohemianmoons is another mutual who blows me away with their talent! i haven’t ever personally spoken with her, or anything, but i can tell she’s very genuine and kind! ❤️

@glassbxttless !!! ugh, she’s so wonderful with her writing as well — of course — even doing us a favor by writing characters who barely get the love they deserve!!!! everyone say ‘thank you cece’.

@urmum-lovesme — when i tell you she is another writer that’s on here who easily sucks you into their writing with absolutely no problem, it’s insane. i need to catch up on her story, i haven’t yet! but i need to get on that.

@eiightysixbaby !!! another kind soul who is (obviously) very wonderful at writing!!!

@punk-in-docs — when i tell you …. i screamed the VERY first time she had followed me on my other account when i was very deep and in my joseph quinn phase (still am, that man is never going away). she’s a very, very talented writer as well.

@keeryhours — sage will 100% EAT at anything she posts, NO DOUBT!!! and she’s also so very kind ❤️ definitely deserves more love!

@pretty-little-mind33 one of the first aaron taylor johnson accounts i had become friends with — and will never ever regret it. sky is such a lovely person and genuinely so kind and talented!

@fear-is-truth. there is NOT enough things i can say about jackie. i remember following her about a year ago and i remember when she hadn’t branched out yet with different fandoms and how she would apologize for her english (which she never had too at all!!!!), but looking at her account now and seeing how far she’s come, i’m so so proud of her and how much she’s evolved. she’s always been someone who is crazy talented yet just couldn’t see it herself. again, so so proud of jackie and will lover her forever and have such a special place for her in my heart. ❤️

@thecreelhouse …. syl …. oh my word . there’s so much you could say about them, but two words; talented and genuine. you can also tell how much she puts into her writings and i hate that she can’t tell how talented she is. it’s insane that i can consider her as a friend ❤️.

@starkeyvhs — kez!!! such a lovely soul who is so so talented 🩷 i remember her review on a writing i had posted (and now deleted) and how much i had smiled during the whole thing and how it will forever stick with me. i still need to catch up on some stuff she’s posted me in, but she is such a talented, sweet girl!!!

@strangerstilinski ❤️❤️❤️❤️ another person who i screamed about following me a while back ago. she’s someone who can make you feel so comfortable and as if you’ve have spoken before. i absolutely love her forever.

@marchsfreakshow — duckie, i absolutely love you. such a kind hearted, genuine friend and a talented writer. there’s things i definitely still have to catch up on, BUT im going to soon!!! ❤️ everyone deserves a duckie.

@littlexdeaths!!! i haven’t really spoken to her in a while, but i will never forget the times i have an how she was always so kind and genuine towards me or others.

@taintandviolent ….. lizzie, lizzie. lizzie. when i had first started out and started slowly writing/reading for evan peters, she was the first account id found and would ALWAYS and never fail to come back too, to see if there was ANYTHING new that she had posted (and i still do). she is so so so kind and it’s INSANE i can call her a friend. love her so much.

@scarstarved — wey doesn’t write, BUT her gif sets are so genuinely beautiful, not to mention how beautiful and kind she is as well! i couldn’t leave her out at all. ❤️

hi. go say something nice to your favourite writer(s). let them know they’re loved and seen and appreciated, and that their place in this world is not dependent on whether or not they’ve written anything recently. write that comment on that fic you’ve re-read for the fifth time just now. invade that ask box and give them some flowers in thanks. imagine a world in which they don’t write anymore, and be aware of the power that lies in kindness and genuine, random appreciation.

[pinkpurplesunrises]

Letters to No One - Chapter 6: The Rift

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x Reader (wlw).

Theme: Ghostwriter x Athlete | Slow Burn | Angst | Emotional Intimacy | Happy Ending.

POV: 2nd person (you), emotion ally immersive.

Setting: Barcelona, Present Day.

Previous chapters: chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5

ACT: II

Writer's note: I am still enjoying writing for this series. I hope that you are still enjoying reading this series.

The next morning, you leave without saying goodbye.

Her door clicks softly behind you. Like a secret sealing shut.

You tell yourself it’s fine. That it was nothing. That you imagined the weight in the air. The way her breath caught. The way her fingers curled into fists when she pulled away.

But shame is a quiet animal, and it follows you home.

The distance starts like fog.

You don’t call. You don’t send the edits. You avoid the folder labeled Putellas Project, letting emails pile like untouched snow. When your editor asks for an update, you type half a sentence and delete it.

You’ve never been good at pretending, and the words taste like betrayal now.

You’re scared and you hate that about yourself.

She doesn’t reach out, either.

Days pass.

Then a week.

The next time you see her is in a press conference.

You’re not supposed to be watching it live, but you do. A bad habit. Maybe. Or just something that feels like penance.

Alexia sits in front of a sea of microphones. In Barça gear. Flanked by her coach and a teammate you don’t recognize. She looks like a statue. Polished. Remote.

The question comes halfway through:

“There’s been talk about a book... an authorized biography? Something more personal?”

She doesn't blink. “It’s not confirmed.”

“But you’ve been meeting with someone? A writer?”

Pause.

You know that pause.

Then:

“She’s just doing her job.”

The words land like a slap.

Curt.

Cold.

Past tense.

You close your laptop with more force than necessary.

Later that night, in a haze of anger and heartbreak, you open the manuscript draft. You stare at the cursor until your eyes blur. Then, without thinking, you paste in a line from Letters to No One.

Not on purpose.

Just muscle memory.

You don’t notice until you read it back:

She says ‘don’t’ like she’s trying to save us both from the same fire. But I would have burned for her. Gladly.

You freeze.

It’s raw.

It’s not meant for her.

It’s not meant for anyone.

You hover over the delete key.

But don’t press it.

The next morning, your editor replies to your file submission.

“The new section is breathtaking. Who is it addressed to?”

You stare at the screen.

You almost reply No one.

But you don’t send anything at all.

Meanwhile, Alexia reads the headlines from the press conference. She sees the way the media spins her words. Cold. Distant. Done.

She doesn’t correct them.

But when she’s alone in her car later that night. She replays the moment. The way you reached for her. So gently. The look on your face when she said “Don’t.”

She regrets it before she even pulls away.

She just doesn’t know how to fix something she never let herself name.

You both think the other has moved on.

You’re both wrong.

[captaincowabunga]

Arcane “fans” acting like the writers overlooked vi’s trauma like no THE FANS ARE!

There are plenty of scenes and moments where you can clearly see vi’s PTSD flashbacks. the fear and trauma in her eyes is so real every time not to mention the parallels. But for some reason some arcane fans are missing one of the biggest points of this show being actions speak much louder than words.

yall think her trauma is overlooked because its not loud, obvious and as open as jinx’s or other characters. The reason why vi’s trauma was never shown very openly the same way the others were was because she was never really allowed to be open about her fears or her feelings as a kid being the oldest and with all the weight vander had on her. Everything that happened she thought she was responsible for and she always felt like she always needed to be strong for everyone else.

No one else gave her a moment to be vulnerable the same way powder/jinx always had the privilege being vulnerable as she was the youngest and the weakest and she didnt have that same pressure as vi.

So obviously Vi’s trauma is not going to be as big and in your face as the others because if you actually watched the show she was never allowed to be open with her emotions. But even so you can see plenty of moments where that PTSD is shown through her expressions and actions and personally I think her trauma was written VERY realistically and words cant explain how much I appreciate the arcane writers for that.

not everyone with PTSD and trauma is gonna be a loud psycho crash out and just because they aren’t depicted that way in writing or irl does not mean their trauma is overlooked by the writers/doesnt have any trauma at all.

As far as I’m aware it’s the fans constantly overlooking her trauma, constantly mischaracterizing her, constantly hating on her writing and just basically hating her character in general. Y’all only like the version of Vi you have made up in your head and it pmo. atp just say you hate the show and leave the fcking fandom with your “arcane critique” bullshit. you aren’t a critique , you’re just a fucking hater and you will come up with ANYTHING to make your opinions seem like facts and like theyre reasonable when they arent.

and I just find it funny that you hoes think you can critique this show when you dont even have the brain power to understand the writing AT ALL or pay attention to the details AT ALL or even listen and take cannon evidence and the things the writers say as cannon AT ALL. Like what yall are “critiquing” is your own arcane fan fiction you have somehow made up in your head.

[sha-brytols]

i have a question feel free not to answer but i promise it's not in bad faith. i agree with u with just about everything in dragon age and respect your opinions, but ive been an aveline hater for sooo long. i see your points about the misogyny which i think is the number one #anti aveline thing people point out, but i was wondering your takes on some of the others, like her guard favoritism, rejecting carver from the guard despite his job insecurity and not throwing out the records of fenris squatting in hightown? do you think it's like, a control thing? i admit ive been in a bit of an echo chamber and never heard someone talk about that that wasnt coming from already hating aveline. i can appreciate a morally grey character for sure, but i think her "my hands are tied" centrism always irked me more than isabela and varric's more carefree and charismatic outlooks

i get it LOL fandom has a tendency of influencing personal bias to an extreme and it's hard to see past the echo chambers. i think this is what causes characters like sebastian or sera to get such extreme levels of hate despite people very rarely actually interacting with them in game or making an effort to understand their perspectives. i don't think disliking aveline is bad, but i do think the disproportionate hate she receives compared to the other companions is like. silly. They're All Bad People.

so bioware writes women, ESPECIALLY women who don't conform to stereotypically feminine traits and roles (read: female warriors) very poorly, and i think that's really important to keep in mind in meta discussions because it does absolutely play a key role in how "palatable" they are. a lot of aveline's personality is directly informed by this odd insistence on making her a big scary unattractive Mannish brute, because the writers have no concept of femininity outside of soft and gentle and sexy. and i say this because this plays a huge role in her characterization as a big authority figure who Does Not Take Your Shit. it's one of those things that makes meta analysis very difficult because i feel like there isn't a single part of her character design or writing that wasn't affected by it (for both good and bad) and people tend to take it for granted.

like, we Know anders' characterization as the creepy possessive borderline-stalker guy is directly informed by jennifer hepler's bias against bipolar disorder. it absolutely works as a character trait and it IS an important part of him, but it's still important to acknowledge just how Caricaturized the whole thing is and how much of that is narratively purposeful and how much of that is hepler's own lack of empathy for the disorder. that's the way i see aveline's writing. bioware thinks "masculine" women are abrasive and unattractive, therefore they give aveline the most severe personality in the whole game. because that's just what women like that Are Like, according to bioware.

i keep fucking writing harvard essays in response to these asks i'm so fuckgjfnd sorry. more under the cut.

but you know like. from a watsonian perspective i think that just speaks more to her insecurity than it does to her as a person in the story. i talked about it before, but a big aspect of aveline's character is how she's been constantly at the mercy of people who were meant to be her leaders, people she was expected to follow without question, only for those people to misuse or even outright abuse their power. loghain abandoning everyone at ostagar cost her her home, her husband, her friends, everything she ever had. she comes to kirkwall with this newfound sense of "i will never let that happen again," which makes her very protective and overbearing. we can tell by her attitude with hawke and the other guards that she considers all of her people her Family and she refuses to compromise their safety for anything. they trust her, they rely on her. she won't be another loghain or another jevan.

it's not by any means a positive trait. it's both her greatest strength and her greatest flaw. she cares too much about the people she's responsible for and happily sacrifices the good of everyone else in favor of her own comfort without even realizing. and who does that remind you of?

our own protagonist is among the most important and powerful people in the game, and the whole narrative is essentially built on hawke bending and breaking every law they possibly can to keep their own family as comfortable and safe as possible, even at the cost of others. she's hawke's parallel. she forces the player to reflect on how easy it is to say you're a good person and you want to help everyone when you have the means and the power to actually make a change, but how quickly that self-assurance goes out the window the second you actually have to make the tough calls. it takes hawke 9 literal years to even Feebly voice their public support between the mages and templars, and they spend the entire game flip flopping between working for one's interests and then the other's because of that refusal to actually take a stance and commit to their morals. you can headcanon your hawke as the Radical Revolutionary but that isn't the character we see in game. we see the person who's too afraid of confrontation and losing the fragile stability they've built for themselves to actually stand up for what's right until their hand is forced. that's the position aveline is in.

this is one of those things where i keep saying people should rival characters more. all those traits you hate in aveline are the ones that become challenged through hawke's constant rejection of her authority, and what makes the rivalry routes so fascinating is how they give you a unique insight as to Why your companions are the way that they are. all these things i've mentioned aren't just excuses for why she's like this. it's all in her rivalry route! she's terrified, insecure, she has no idea what she's doing, she feels completely alone in a city where she has to constantly prove herself, and this causes her to overcompensate in the only avenue where she actually has a modicum of control.

as for the stuff with carver and fenris. i think people tend to look at those with very narrow lenses and fail to see them within their context. like, the stuff with carver is pretty easy. that isn't even an issue of favoritism or corruption, it's a matter of "the guy who i know for a fact is a hotheaded kid with authority problems only wants to be a guard to feel important and i'm not putting someone like that in a position of power." you can disagree with that assessment, but she didn't just reject carver out of nowhere, she knows him well and is well aware of the fact that he has a massive inferiority complex. like, i think it's silly that carver is seen as this innocent victim in that situation for being turned down as guard, when most of the time these same people who condemn her for it also hate her specifically because she's a guard LOL. if you dislike how aveline handles her authority, how do you think CARVER would handle it? his templar path to me seems like proof enough that he only sees these positions as avenues for validation and isn't actually fully prepared for what these positions actually Entail

and for fenris. people misunderstood that banter i think LOL. first of all, people mix up her banter about fenris squatting with banter about formal complaints about him. it was the latter she didn't throw out, and this is only after you finish her quest where you help her expose the previous captain's corruption. she's the guard captain. the complaints go to no one else but her. all she's doing is proving that she isn't going to be the next jevan. plus, i think this gets overinflated a lot LOL her and fenris are like two of the most amicable party members. she changes patrols around his mansion to give him some peace of mind, she warns him when he's drawing too much attention to himself. i don't think it's a fair assessment at aaaall to say aveline is somehow neglecting or endangering fenris, because it's literally the exact opposite. she protects all of her friends, even the Fucking Abomination Who Does Nothing But Antagonize Her LOL

this got long. erm. teehee. it's not a big deal if you don't like aveline LOL i mean we all have our favorites and least favorites and it's not like i expect everyone to love her. i just feel like these opinions Are sometimes worthy of reflection. do you give the other companions the same scrutiny? are you really judging her on her own merit or are you judging her on the purity test we tend to subconsciously apply to female characters in general, even if it's a subconscious thing? like i could try to name the amount of male characters in dragon age that share the same flaws as her and it would end up an even bigger post than this LOL. do you like gorim? duncan? sten? what makes aveline so much less sympathetic than them? that's all. and if it does turn out to just be a taste thing then i obviously can't brainwash you into loving a character LOL

if you somehow read this whole thing you are braver than any us soldier. here's the funniest picture of ricky i have in my album.

[sappho-favorite-pupil-fandoms]

it's not fun the way people are so attached to this idea of representing these "oppressor × oppressed" dynamics in media. and then wonder why 1) most people find it insensitive and 2) the plot itself doesn't feel realistic.

in the case of arcane, c*aitlyn should have been to violet a living "synthesis" of everything she has ever hated, both as the richest person in piltover and as an enforcer. so yeah, even in season 1 it was pretty unrealistic for her to fall in love with c*itlyn, but you know what? at least c*itlyn was nice to her back then, and was open in admitting piltover's actions were wrong.

but in season 2? the writers HAD to bend the character of vi backwards in a thousand different ways, in order to make caitvi work. and it's just not realistic, setting any moral consideration aside for a moment, it's just not realistic. it feels like a very poor quality fanfiction of itself, cause real violet - season 1 violet - wouldn't fucking do all that.

not to mention they always have the "oppressed" part of the equation change for their partner. why couldn't c*itlyn be the one to change for vi, instead of having violet realize "not all cops are bad" (💀) ???

[visoceaneyes]

the whole "cait let jinx go for vi" sentiment really urks my nerves for a number of reasons...

one, the whole she "allowed" her to do something shit feels so goddamn gross...had vi wanted to and cait didnt want it she'd never see her sister again bruh

two, cait doesnt even mention vi...which is honestly more of a writing thing than anything else but ffs, all she can talk about is HERSELF. SHE doesn't have the energy to hate jinx or bring her to justice anymore...tf does that have to do with vi...

three, again more writing nonsense bc there's a lot to unpack

she's the commander of piltover but somehow couldnt stop her subordinates from hauling jinx off...and she knew vi wouldnt be okay with that shit..

she claims she was waiting for vi to recover to make any decisions but again...you are apparently not "daft enough" to know jinx was there because vi didnt trust you but also so dumb you think vi would have anything other to say than "fuck that" when she woke up??? but then even with THAT she says shes holding jinx until she herself decides wtf to do with her...dude...did these writers huff paint while writitng this shit?? HOWS ANY OF THIS SCREAM SHE DID IT FOR VI???

and the dialogue between her and jinx deadass tries so hard to create parallels between them that atp shes probably at least self aware of how much of a piece of shit she is (not to vi because notice she never apologizes or is held accountable for any of that, just for working with ambessa...)and knows she literally can't judge jinx for any of this shit (but still tries to get an apology out of her while not even being bothered to offer one herself)

and if anything this just seems like something to hold over vi's head like everything else. everyone acknowledges vi has nothing without caitlyn...and she frees jinx while never changing how she is toward vi. still violent as ever and using her to fight a war she should have nothing to do with...(you dont need all the guards at the gates but you need your still limping around the house from an injury gf to fight your battles for you??)

like bro fuck this

[thewisewill80sbyers]

not even counting just how much y'all are hating on him for being literally depressed and showing symptoms of that after his trauma which is so incredibly weird to me, you're punishing kids for reacting with normal emotional distress and not knowing immediately how to navigate life, punishing a child that doesn't even have that much support as the others have in his own house or outside, except his friends who are kinda taking him for granted most of the time btw (except Will who is in love with him) - like, for how much Karen cares about him he cannot talk to her about the supernatural, Nancy is emotionally constipated too usually and the writers haven't made them talk in a long time, he is growing up and learning while literally jumping to his death for his friends if he feels they're in danger and trying to correct his behaviour if he ever does anything wrong + ALWAYS apologizes to them, they often didn't do that to him, he's a kid that made mistakes like all of them and I'm tired of seeing all this vitriol when all of them have faults & good qualities that are pretty much equal and all of them are growing up and learning

[ranunculussy]

into the woods | 01. - aconite

ʚɞ pair: fem!mutant!oc × bucky barnes ʚɞ warnings/tags: canon-typical violence, swearing, mentions of torture (to everyone's surprise, by HYDRA), the X-Men are canon to the Avengers in this fanfic, i WILL abuse creative freedom as a writer lmao, age gap, flashbacks where Bucky is the Winter Soldier, OC isn't the MCU green witch but mine, enemies to lovers (kinda? there is definitely some hate in the air), slow burn, english isn't my first language, let me know if i forgot something ʚɞ word count: ~2.2k ʚɞ summary: Bucky, for quite obvious reasons, hated being reminded of his past as the Winter Soldier. He was perfectly aware of the fact that he will never be able to erase or undo more that 70 years of inflicting torture, being tortured and used as a killing machine. Still, he tried his best. So, imagine his annoyance when the first thing the new resident—a weird, horned woman with a tail almost as long as herself—of the Avengers Tower does is attack and call him on that godforsaken name. ʚɞ author's note: Hi everone! I'd like to clear up a few things real quick. I wrote this fanfic in 3rd person instead of 2nd mostly because i wanted to go deeper with flashing out the OC's backstory, traits and personality, however if you like her and can relate to her, feel free to self insert. Raina (the MC) is kinda like a tielfing druid, simply because I *love* D&D and when I was figuring out what kind of powers I should give to her, she became more and more like a druid and after a while I couldn't imagine her in any other way. However, I wanted her to make sense, even if only a tiny bit, so I made the X-Men canon to the Avengers, meaning Raina's horns, tail and powers can be explained as her, being a mutant. Hope you'll have fun reading and like it!! [this fanfic is also available on AO3 with the same title and username]

Humans are one of the most if not the most destructive, harmful parasites on this godforsaken Earth. They just take and take until nothing else remains, even if they have everything, they still want more. No matter how many species go extinct due to over-hunting and the consequences of global warming caused by humanity’s own greed, somehow it’s never enough. Raina’s overall opinion on humans was something like this. Of course, there were exceptions, but their numbers were all too small in contrast of the ignorant and the violent.

As soon as the sun sat and the light gradually dimmed then darkened, it was game on. As the horned woman gracefully swung her right arm forwards, thick vines emerged from behind her and lunged at the armed guards. They were coated with poisonous spikes that easily ripped both uniforms and skin.

“Ahh! What the fuck!?” screamed a man who was unfortunate enough to still be alive. He tried to ignore the excruciating pain and reach for his gun but wasn’t quick enough. The vines quickly slithered up on his arm and pressed it to his body, rendering him completely still.

Raina stepped out from the shadows of a nearby tree and walked up to the dying man. Her skin-covered tail was slowly wagging behind her. Even tho she had no particular control over her extra limb, right now it showed that she felt secure, confident. She knew, the person in front of her was in an indescribable pain, she made sure of it. She gently caressed his jawline and with a soft smile, she greeted him. “Good evening, mister.”

To this, the sweat covered man gathered whatever strength he had left and spit his attacker in the face. Raina let out a small chuckle and wiped her face. “Hmm, so uncivilized.”

“Go to Hell.”

“Oh don’t worry, I will. But definitely not in the near future. Now act like a reasonable being and tell me how to disable the security system, and as a reward, I’ll make your passing quick. Or you can be as stubborn as you want and I can prolong your suffering for as long as needed. I have all the time in the world.”

This was partially true. While she did have the upper hand in this situation, she also knew it was not for long. Raina was perfectly aware how quick HYDRA’s reaction time was. If she wanted to save as many captive animals as possible, she had to get into the building in the next two minutes.

She was so fixated on getting the answer out of the agent that the rustling noise from behind her didn’t catch her attention. It was another HYDRA agent, a woman this time. That night she was tasked with securing the perimeters of their base, and by the time she arrived back from scouting, all she found was the dead guards wrapped in venomous vines, controlled by an all too familiar person. The agent, as silently as possible, raised her sniper rifle and with steady hands she pointed the weapon at the intruder. When she made sure that the bullet will hit its target, she slowly started to move her finger towards the trigger. However, she had no chance of coming out of this alive, even if she was sure of her, having the upper hand. At the dead of night, silently like the merciless winds cut through the Himalayan alpines, a snow leopard captured her prey before she even noticed she was being preyed upon.

As the crimson blood slowly soaked the silky soft, ivory fur on the animal’s paws, she confidently walked up to Raina and sat down next to her. Even in that position, the majestic beast was at least a head taller than her companion.

“You’re welcome.” heard Raina the slightly raspy voice of the animal in her head.

“Thank you, Azi.”

“Fucking freaks…” the man groaned in front of them. Tears made of blood rolled down on his face as the poison slowly but surely spread through his body and took effect. To this, Raina’s right hand turned into a fist, causing the vines to tighten around the suffering HYDRA agent. The man coughed, spitting out some blood in the process and his breath became shallow. His time was running out. By then, it was like as if his insides were on fire and he could’ve swore that he felt like his skin started to melt off of him. The image of his own flesh peeking out from under his detaching skin made his stomach turn and this finally broke him, made him talk.

A quarter of an hour later, as if Hell broke loose, the scorching flames devoured anything in their paths. Most of HYDRA’s agents were dead, either by the Raina’s hands or Aziza’s paws, or by the fire. Their mission was a success, so even when the heavy smoke filled the woman’s lungs, suffocating her slowly, she couldn’t help but feel at ease. She saved so many poor, tortured animals. She avenged those who didn’t survive. With every rescue mission, she avenged a bit of herself too. In a couching fit, she collapsed. The familiar cement floor welcomed her like a cruel patriarch welcomes his straying child, forced back into his strict, punishing embrace. A HYDRA lab was a damn disgusting place to die at, but at least she died not as a victim, but as a savior.

The gradually sharpening beeping noise is what woke Raina after gods know how long. She let out a small groan as she became aware of the pain in her whole body. Opening her eyes felt like a fight against her own self, but when she finally did it, she was met with a pristine white ceiling and cold white lights that hurt her sensitive eyes.

“Where the fuck…” her mumbling came out groggy while she slowly pulled herself up to a half sitting, half laying position. After how much smoke she breathed in through her mouth in the burning lab, this was anything but surprising. As she moved around in the soft bed, a soft clinking sound caught her attention, making her eyes snap to her right side, where her wrist was handcuffed to the edge of the bed. She had to be cautious. Up until this, her tail was resting next to her, but now its spiky end was thumping quite rapidly, expressing how quickly she became agitated.

Her gaze lifted from her hand to the corner of the room, where a man was standing, monitoring her every movement with his cold eyes. What Raina first noticed was the silver limb. A metal arm. No. No.

“Get the fuck away from me!” she raised her voice as panic filled her whole being. She knew she lost consciousness on HYDRA grounds but she was sure she will be dead in minutes anyway. However, the fact that she was alive, chained and the first person she saw was the Winter Soldier could only meant one thing.

The man’s brows furrowed. He pushed himself away from the wall that he was leaning on up until now and took a step towards the woman, who saw this as a direct threat, and without thinking, she raised her left arm, creating vines that broke out from the pots of the indoor plants and quickly pinned the soldier back to his original place.

“I said get the fuck away from me, motherf-” the adrenaline filled woman couldn’t finish her sentence as the modern sliding door opened and three people walked in.

“Ah-ah, let’s not do anything funny. I’d heavily advise you, miss, to retract whatever these plant-thingies are and act like civilized people.” the man in the middle, wearing an all too fancy tailored suit said with a small, awkward smile on his bristled face. The blonde man on his right ran up to the Winter Soldier but was quickly stopped by a few more vines that, with the force and speed of a falling airplane, threw and locked him to the other side of the room. To this, the ginger woman on the suited man’s left sighed and raised her gun at Raina.

“Not until you tell me where the hell I am. Where is Azi?” she asked while the two men were struggling to break free.

“Manhattan, New York City, Avengers Towers, You’re very welcome. And who exactly is this Azi?” The Avengers Towers? So I’m safe? Or is this a sick joke?

“The snow leopard. Where is she?” Raina’s breathing became a bit more controlled but she was still on edge. She heard her own heartbeat in her ears, beating like a war drum and she started to feel a bit dizzy. With her tail wrapped defensively around herself, it was pointless to deny how scared she was.

“Oh, that. We saw it-” started to explain the fancy man but was cut short.

“Her. You saw her, not it. Last time I checked she wasn’t an object.”

“Right, my bad. As I was saying, we found her running out from the collapsing HYDRA base with you, hanging from her mouth. She didn’t let anyone close to you at first, but I guess the carbon monoxide caught up to her too so she passed out, we brought both of you back to the base, she is being taken care of by Bruce, end of story. Now be so kind and let go of my precious teammates. I cannot afford Fury’s fury if I were to lose two of his finest agents.”

For a few moments she weighted her options. If she really was at HYDRA she would’ve been beaten and sedated by now. Instead, the unknown man spoke like a normal person. She was still very much conscious and the only person she felt threatened by was the metal armed man.

“You, Soldier. As soon as I let you go, you leave the room. Understood?” when there was no reaction, she tightened the restrictive vines around him. “I said, understood?”

“Perfectly, doll.” he nodded, a small smirk spreading on his face. As soon as Raina heard what she wanted, she pulled back the “guard dogs” and let the men free. The brunette was true to his word and after moving his shoulders around a bit, he left the sterile room.

“Huh, now that we got that sorted out, I think an introduction is due. Tony Stark, I’m sure you’ve hears about me already.”

“I did not.”

“Everybody has their shortcomings.”

The blonde man walked up to the woman’s bed so he could introduce himself with a handshake. “Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you.”

“I just threw you to a wall.” she looked down at the man’s opened palm, hesitant to accept his offer at first.

“Occupational hazard.” the man joked with a genuine smile on his freshly shaved face as he playfully shrugged. By this time, the other two also walked up to Raina’s bed and the last unknown person introduced herself.

“Natasha Romanov. Impressive skills.”

Raina felt like there was no use to act secretive or lie about her identity. If she really was at the company of the Avengers, they’ll find out everything about her one way or another. It’d be better to get on their good sides. “Raina. Just Raina. And is there a chance that I could maybe lose the cuffs?”

“Depends on how well you explain yourself.” Steve nodded, his expectant eyes not leaving her, not even for a minute.

Bucky was… surprised? Annoyed? After leaving the medical room he got swallowed by his own rushing thoughts. With his metal fingers, he brushed through his shoulder-length hair while a long sigh left his mouth. He had no idea who the unique woman was, but she recognized him. Or, not him. His old self, at least. Was she one of HYDRA’s victims? Did she simply knew about him or was she one of his victims? No matter how hard he tried to remember anything about her during the short amout of time while he was alone with himself as he walked towards Bruce’s lair, he was unsuccessful. Well, no matter what, she was definitely interesting.

“James.” greeted him the doctor. His hands were carefully raised in front of him, trying to keep the awakened animal back. When the robust beast smelled Bucky, she let out a low, warning growl. The icy blue eyes were filled with resentment. Her tail, which was characteristically almost as long as her body, was low, trashing side to side.

“My God, not again.”

“What do you mean by not again?”

“Same shit happened with the woman in the other room moments ago.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on going Hulk today, so I’d advise you to leave before things escalate.”

hii! thank you so much again for reading my work, hope you enjoyed it! if you'd like to be notified when an update drops for this fanfic, feel free to ask for tagging ^-^ dividers by: @saradika-graphics

[bangtcns]

Spoilers for Squid Game 3.

I’ve defended the second season quite a lot on twitter. I loved it even though I knew my feelings might change if the final installment doesn’t deliver a satisfying conclusion to the story. So here we are, the show is done, and I’m not gonna lie, Gi-hun’s death kinda ruined everything for me. Well, not everything. Season one is still pure perfection. 

The reason I really appreciated season two is a clever change in the narrative. While the game itself was the villain of the first season, the continuation of the story asked a new question: can it be stopped, and if not, why? Gi-hun was eventually forced to admit that people keep choosing to play the game and he’s not responsible for its continuous existence. When he told the no-longer-pregnant girl that people decide their own fate and it’s not her fault that the trans girl and the old lady died, I thought to myself, There it is! His way out. He will accept that people make their own decisions and it’s not his responsibility to try to save everyone, especially when they choose not to be saved; when they choose to be straight up evil. He will let go of his anguish over lost friends and learn to live again. But no! He died, forever fighting the game, but achieving close to nothing. Like, in his final moments he rebels against the system once more, but his very last words? It’s an admission that humans just are, and the game is a part of them. Do you still have faith in people? I’m not sure he did in the end. 

There is some thematic resonance in the chosen conclusion to Gi-hun’s storyline. I’d just prefer a completely different ending, a happier one, because that’s what he deserved. It was a struggle to keep watching after he was killed off, and I had little to no emotional response to his final moments. I was soooo pissed off, not only because of his death, but *how* it was written. They had to come up with so many plot conveniences to make sure he died; the most frustrating one was not pushing the start button before 333 fell off the pillar. Oh, and the cop being five minutes late to the party. WHAT.

Other things I disliked:

- Hated the northern deserter's subplot; didn’t find the character sympathetic or interesting at all.

- The cop was unbelievably useless. He started this season by choosing to ignore how suspicious the boat captain was and, consequently, he got his team killed; then he failed to save Gi-hun. Damn, he was even too late to have a meaningful confrontation with his brother.

- The heroes managed to locate and neutralize only one facility; they didn’t catch any of the people responsible for the game’s existence.

- Gi-hun died believing he achieved absolutely nothing and he wasn’t far off.

- They could have easily delved deeper into In-ho’s backstory to let us fully understand how he rebuilt himself into the Frontman. Still, I like the parallel of both the protagonist and the antagonist being broken by the game, and how differently they reacted to this trauma; one of them became the face of the game, accepting its inevitability; the other died opposing it.

- Gi-hun and In-ho’s thematic discussion was the backbone of the second season, and I didn’t like how quick and superficial the resolution to this relationship felt; I appreciated In-ho tring to convert Gi-hun to his side, but that’s about it? He looked disappointed and hurt when this attempt failed, and we quickly moved on to blabbering NPCs hoping to murder an infant in a democratic manner.

- CGI BABY.

- The sympathetic side characters died way too early and the finale was so lackluster with a bunch of thugs as the main opponents.

Things I liked: 

- The main cast of players was well-written and compelling; the performances were top-notch too.

- 333 was the biggest piece of shit this show has ever seen, kudos to the writers and the actor portraying the character, they did a great job. He was an expert gaslighter, pretending to be decent until the very end. In comparison, Sang-woo was honest about his true nature, and he sacrificed himself to save his mother’s livelihood. This guy, 333, he wanted to kill his infant daughter for some extra money.

- “I’m sorry about Jung-bae”. I can’t believe he said that. 

Things I’m torn about? It’s only the ending. At first I rolled my eyes at a clear set up for the American version of the show (and Cate Blanchett), but after giving it some thought, I appreciated how it parallels the ending of season one. Gi-hun emotionally interrupting the recruitment is juxtaposed with In-ho letting it happen with a cold demeanor, knowing he was right; the game will always exist unless enough people oppose it, and most people choose to play it instead. Thematically, the narrative sided with him. It doesn’t make Gi-hun’s struggle any less admirable, though. Just sad and futile. 

HMMMMMM. I still think that he could have lived and it would have made for a better ending, or at least an ending I would like a lot more than what we got. The conclusion they chose is very dark; the game can’t be stopped and its main opponent indirectly admits that right before he commits suicide. Humans are�� Well, he doesn’t say they’re good. The system never corrupts Gi-hun, but it does manage to kill him. The baby is set for life with a lot of blood money. The game continues, always.

[camficdiner]

Hi love! I have a request for 1.5 (w older reader bc I’m a sucker for it), 2.1, 3.1, 4.3, reader and Will aren’t enemies but are definitely not friends, but there is obvious tension and reader confides in Cat and Tyler because she does like him, but she feels like Will doesn't like her back, but she catches him in the tunnel after the game and he tells her it's because she's intimidating and he does like her too but she always looked like she hated him (bonus if he makes a point to say it looks like she hates everyone). Thank you! You are an amazing writer!

☕️ Cams Fic Diner – Order 074

🍒: thank you so much for your love and trust — I loved writing this soft hallway moment with all that age gap tension you adore 💌

💬: “You Always Look Like You Hate Everyone”

✨ description and prompts:

• character: Will Smith (hockey)

• prompt: hallway kiss · emotional confession · age gap

• type: fluff · slow burn · not-enemies-not-friends

• wc: ~1.5k

✨🍒🛼🧁

You’d never admit it out loud, but Will Smith gets under your skin in the most annoying way possible.

He’s loud, cocky, young. Always grinning at the boys, tossing gloves around the locker room, making jokes that land a little too well. And when he walks by, brushing past you with a “hey,” it always feels a little too casual, like he’s trying not to look.

You were older than him. Everyone knew it — not by a decade or anything dramatic, but enough to matter. Enough that you carried yourself differently: more composed, less reactive, the kind of woman who spoke with her eyes and always left the room a little quieter than she found it.

Will noticed. From the start.

You, in tailored jackets and heels that clicked too sharply against the concrete. You, always watching the game from behind the bench, always tight-lipped during post-practice chaos, always unbothered.

You intimidated the hell out of him.

So yeah, maybe he never talked to you. Maybe he made jokes with everyone else and gave you nothing but a nod in passing. Maybe he told himself it was better that way — because someone like you? You wouldn’t be interested in a kid like him.

Except you noticed him too.

You just refused to admit it — even to yourself. At least until you sat on Cat’s couch after a long road stretch, nursing a glass of wine, and muttered, “I think I might have a crush on Will Smith.”

Cat blinked. Tyler spat out his beer.

“You have a crush on Will?”

You sighed. “Don’t make it weird. He’s cute.”

“He’s obsessed with you,” Tyler said flatly.

You laughed. “He doesn’t even talk to me.”

“Yeah, because you look like you’d murder him with one glance.”

You shrugged. “He’s younger. It doesn’t matter.”

But it did. You thought about him after games. Wondered what it would feel like if he ever actually looked at you the way he looked at the ice.

—

That night, the team won in overtime. The tunnel was buzzing with noise and energy and sweat, and you stayed behind for just a second too long.

That’s when he found you.

Still in his gear, hair damp, cheeks flushed.

He hesitated — then kept walking, slower this time.

“You always look like you hate me,” he said suddenly.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

He scratched the back of his neck, eyes darting to the wall beside you. “You do. I swear, every time I look at you, you’re scowling.”

You crossed your arms, amused. “Maybe that’s just my face.”

He smirked. “Maybe. Or maybe I’ve been too scared to find out.”

You tilted your head, curious. “Scared?”

“You’re older,” he said. “Smarter. Way more composed. You walk around like nothing gets to you. And me? I’m the guy who still trips over his own skates in warmup.”

You smiled, despite yourself.

He kept going. “I didn’t talk to you because I figured you weren’t into kids.”

“Who said I was?”

He flushed, eyes dropping to the ground. “Nobody. Just… hoped.”

You let the pause hang.

Then — slowly — you stepped forward, close enough that your fingers brushed.

“So, what now?” you asked.

He looked up, surprised.

You raised an eyebrow. “Still scared?”

And maybe he was. But he leaned in anyway.

The kiss was warm, careful, a little unsure. His hands stayed at your hips like he didn’t know where to go. You kissed him back with steady, certain pressure — and when you pulled away, he looked at you like he’d just won the Cup.

“Still think I hate you?” you whispered.

He shook his head, flushed and dazed.

“No. I think I might be in love with you.”

You didn’t answer. Not with words.

You just kissed him again.

[reyhospacebitch]

I may have seen it first on your page. I don't remember srry! I really only wrote this out to wrestle with my personal feelings of what the flip side of this narrative choice that they're saying is the only Accurate reading of andor's ending would mean for Jyn as a character whose arc is mainly about abandonment in r1 and about finding a home, finding belonging with a group of people: Mainly, Cassian. And how this one simple headcanon really fucks with the main message of the film imo. I really just have issue with taking away the only good thing, the only connection she truly made, that canon Jyn had going for her right before she died. Like that girl suffered and then died by like twenty. At least she didn't die alone, at least she finally found someone who saw her and stayed, was how I always looked at the ending.

The good news is actors and even the showrunner's opinions on r1 or what-ifs of futures that will never happen mean nothing. Its personal headcanons because none of them will actually tell that story. The characters are dead lol. fandoms place too much meaning on actor headcanons nowadays as if whatever they Think must be canon, despite it not being in actual canon materials imo.

If we're painting broad strokes on canon subtext to mean cassian wants to get back together with bix (which would mean ignoring accidental? context clues bc it's not shown in Andor that Cassian has interest in getting back with Bix or even that he misses her on Yavin) then great. You can assume he does if you want. You could headcanon that he's hiding it because he's emotionally repressed, that he has a bunch of revnog bottles under his bed on Yavin that we cant see etc etc etc. You can just as easily headcanon that he's moved on because the text doesn't spend the time or visual space to disprove either.

People can interpret events that are explicitly vague however they want, that's the beauty of it, but neither is explicitly stated as the Right character reading. And even if it was, then you can ignore it too idrc either way. I've shipped characters who have never met or are from completely different fictional universes. Idc about canon that much. Hell, in my head DJATS daisy jones and billy dunne had a two decades long affair and then lived happily ever after despite the fact both book and show canons are very much Not That. Lolz

What ifs of dead characters are for fandom and fanfic writers who can do whatever they wish. So unless they write a what-if animated episode (pls no) or books covering Andor's tl that contradicts this we're all free from this discourse and should take it with a grain of sand. Even then, you should take it with a grain of sand because Andor contradicts a bunch of books and comics lol.

That is as long as shippers all stay in our own lanes and not start fights with each other over what is "accurate" or "right" or some shit because there are always different ways to read and interpret characters, subtext and stories in general.

I don't fuck with hating on women, fictional or real, because of their association with men tho. That should be made clear by now, but just incase im stating it now.

read somewhere about how Jyn should have been alone on that beach in r1 since if they survived she would have stayed alone with the context of andor's ending and I just.... yeah.... that's essentially the root of one of my biggest issues with the show now.

the actors and creator etc have made it clear that andor would dump jyn for bix in two seconds and I genuinely hate it. Not because it's a ship of mine, but because Jyn's entireeeeee arc in her own movie was about her isolation and routine continual abandonment of those closest to her. Because of the cause or love. Lyra abandoned her because she essentially chose her husband's love over her daughter. Gererra chose the Partisans over her. Galen chose his work, the Empire. That's how she saw those losses.

So, yes. If you strip away the one character who finally beat that pattern, who routinely FOLLOWED her instead of leaving, then essentially Jyn is alone again. Narratively, it was clear her allegiance is to people, not organizations, even if she also believed in the cause. So Cassian's "welcome home" and everything else loses its meaning for Jyn in this new context. Not because of a ship, but because of Jyn's arc and what we know of her. But what makes it worse is we also know Cassian was *never* actually alone. He has a horde of people who will remember him and tell his story. He has always had people and he also simply has a complex for saving, going back for women in general. Kerri, Maarva, Bix, Kleya etc. So essentially his relationship with Jyn wasn't important in the grand scheme of things? That's just ~how~ he is.

Perhaps this should all give us comfort. Hope. And it would, maybe, if it didn't also further shine a light on the fact that Jyn died with no one who really knew her to tell her story. That Jyn - the second of only three women to be a main character in star wars from almost 50 years of star wars storytelling, and thus the misogynistic af fandom hates her - didn't actually find her home besides a military organization at all. (Which is strikingly familiar with Rey's story actually but I digress lol) And that if they survived, Cassian would leave her like everyone else has left her.

And that's supposedly good.

It undercuts the story in a way I can't reconcile.... So I guess I just... Won't.

[crazysandwich]

Tony Stark’s Legacy Isn’t Up for Debate

Okay, I need to talk about Tony Stark because I need to get this off my chest. Fair warning, this might be a bit controversial.

Disclaimer: I haven’t watched Ironheart yet, and I know I’m reacting to a single line taken out of context. Also, no spoilers in this post aside from that one line I’ll be talking about. So if you haven’t seen Ironheart yet either, don’t worry. I’m not going into anything else from the show. But these are just the thoughts that came to me after hearing it. I’ve seen a lot of clips on TikTok around the line, “Do you think Tony Stark would be Tony Stark if he wasn’t a billionaire?” and honestly, my issue here is mostly with the writing. Not with Ironheart as a character. Again, I haven’t seen the full series so I’m not judging her. But this isn’t the first time I’ve noticed this pattern.

There are a lot of great characters in the MCU with so much potential for good storytelling. But can we stop diminishing the impact that the original characters had? Specifically, Tony Stark, in this case. Let’s be real. He was a big deal. Huge. And we shouldn’t forget that. Move forward, yes. Create new stories, yes. But don’t erase what came before.

Lately, it feels like some writers are trying to push Tony into the background or treat him like a secondary figure. That just doesn’t sit right with me. You can’t rewrite the fact that he had one of the most significant character arcs in the MCU. Fans remember his story, his growth, his sacrifices, every iconic line.

And let’s not forget, Tony Stark’s entire arc was about proving he was more than just a billionaire. Yes, that was part of his identity, but it wasn’t the full story. Over ten years and multiple films, he showed again and again that he was willing to put others before himself, that he could grow, take responsibility, and make real sacrifices. That was the core of his character growth. From a self-centered weapons manufacturer to someone who snapped his fingers to save the universe. He didn’t just coast on his wealth. He evolved. That’s why people connected with him. That’s why it hurts to see that reduced to just "billionaire" as if that was all he ever was.

We literally turned “Tony Stark was able to build this in a cave! With a box of scraps!” into a cult quote. It was so iconic that it even got referenced again in a Spider-Man movie. Did the writers, producers, or anyone at Marvel forget how big of an impact that had? Why are they trying to downplay him now? It comes off as disrespectful.

Again, no hate to Ironheart. I’m excited to watch the series, and I’ll go in with an open mind. But this weird energy around dismissing Tony Stark needs to stop.

It’s not even just this show. I remember The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (which I loved, by the way, one of my favorites), and there was that part early on where it’s revealed the Avengers weren’t on a traditional salary, despite Tony’s financial support. And I get it, it’s part of the plot, but come on. He literally funded their headquarters, tech, suits, operations, and probably their living expenses too. The man gave them two whole buildings. What more was he supposed to do, run payroll on top of all that?

Yes, a formal salary would have been nice, but let’s not act like he left everyone high and dry. It feels like the writers are using him as an easy target lately, and I don’t get it.

Anyway, this turned into a full-on rant, haha. I just had to share these thoughts. Not sure if anyone else feels the same. Once again, no hate to Ironheart, I believe she has a lot of potential, and I have high hopes for the series. Just please stop disrespecting the OGs. If you want to create better and newer characters, do it. But don’t erase the ones who built the foundation.

[nyaskitten]

I'll never get why Lego felt the need to make Wildbrain change the Mechanic's and Ronin's appearences in accordance to the Ninjago City Gardens set, but couldn't spare that same courtesy for Misako??? Misako has worn the exact same outfit since season 2, and in-universe since the fucking Serpentine War... that reddish-orange jacket would've at LEAST spiced her look up a bit.

[keefscafe]

being tagged by someone i have never interacted with in a “here’s why you’re wrong for not liking the andor baby surprise” post has done nothing but motivate me to be an even more vocal hater of the baby surprise

[mylovesstuffs]

Okay, so let’s be clear: this fic hurt. Not in the cheap-angst way. No, no, girly. It’s the emotionally literate iykwim. I literally read a single line, pause, and whispered, “oh.” Ro’s writing never scream, or feels the needs to. It breathes, and then it lets you suffocate and DIE [or at least that's how I feel like—]. Trust me. I have first hand experience. I might as well have a degree on how much I love to torture myself to have this unique first hand experience.

The power of this fic lies in how much is not said. I think I can count it. Wait. The passive injustice, the knowing, the emotional erasure. Yeah. Jihoon is written in a way that’s not easy to hate; but even harder to forgive. Because he knows. He sees, and he doesn’t act, and that’s what makes it so brutal. It’s not evil, but just cowardice. It's a man watching the woman he loves be dismissed, uncredited, and invisible—and deciding that keeping quiet is easier than being brave.

And then when she’s gone? He mourns. Though, he doesn't mour her or not even the relationship but the version of himself she might have helped him become.

To me, it felt like it talked about gender dynamics. So I love tere’s also a sharpness to how this handles gendered dynamics in creative spaces. The contrast between how he is celebrated for the very things she was dismissed for. It’s not even spelled out, but just there, and if you know, you know. That’s what makes it smart writing.

Also. The tonal balance??? One second I’m dissecting emotional betrayal, next second Jihoon is threatening to kill Seokmin and I’m wiping tears from laughter. Then crying again. Ro is evil and I love them for it.

Tbh, I always need a mental health check-in with myself after I read anything by user shinysobi

Alsoooo... Just realised I was trying to be understanding of him at first and slowly just accepted I don't like him 🤡 that's that.

Just me yapping under the cut. Major spoilers!!

at the end of the day, he was there, and they were not.— Oh, I'm feeling this already. Ro, this is NOT okay for my heart. [Yes, I'll blame you and still read at my own will, and again blame you and again read at my own will.]

She was a phenomenal writer, no doubt, but no one took her seriously, not in PLEDIS and HYBE, at least. When he stood up to present his work, with similar themes to hers, they all murmured compliments and nodded with positive affirmations. Out of the corner of his eye, Jihoon could see her shrink into her seat. She was never really someone who would speak up for herself, and Jihoon knew that. — okay. I have a lot to say. 1) I love how quietly (?) devastating it is. 2) It doesn’t shout its injustice; it lets you feel it. The way others praise him for something she was never recognized for. You do know that it’s layered, restrained, but VERY emotionally loaded. Ro, once again, wrote so many things, e.g., resentment, guilt, and an ache into just a few lines. 3) That erasure where brilliance is overlooked until it’s repackaged by someone more ‘acceptable.’ It's shown without without ever having to say it directly. That’s good writing, ro. 4) I'd only say: this could be a turning point for Jihoon. If he really sees it and feels it, what he does next could carry a lot.

Jihoon knows what that is, he just does nothing to change that look in them.— God. His inaction is almost worse than active harm. It’s cowardice in passive acceptance. That he knows and still does nothing makes it all the more heartbreaking. And like, her watching him... hmmmm... I’m assuming it’s not confrontation or anger, but it’s the knowing. And he knows she knows. That exchange 😮‍💨😮‍💨 Some people let you down not because they hate you, but because they’re afraid of standing up for you.

Just the name of the song she’s sending it in for, and the date and version of the file.— Her files being so sterile 🥹✋🏼

"Vernon is being a bitch" / "how do I kill Seokmin..."— LMFAOOOOO I CRIED!! 😭😂 I think that's something he might do lolll. THE WHIPLASH. This is genius-level tonal contrast

the insufferable genius of Pledis.— though I'm not sure if it's the point or intention in here, but this screams in gendered double standards. Because if she pulled a studio lockdown and made an album in a week, she'd either be called obsessive, difficult, unstable, or worse, irrelevant.

Which makes entire sense as to why she left him, of course.— noooooo 😭😭😭

“Uh, sure.” She had turned back to her work, and Jihoon had nodded, murmuring, it’s a date, then.— Jihoon pls 😭 PLEASE 🤡 PLEASE 🙂

Why did he do that?— self-aware cowardice. guilt caught up with comfort, yk? I think this is one of those part of himself he can’t justify even if he could explain it 🫠

At first, it was to maintain distance, to maintain the farce— The use of “farce” is so sharp here. Like this whole split between “professional” and “personal” is a performance, and it’s not even a good one. It’s self-soothing at best and elf-serving at worst, imo.

Lee Jihoon of Seventeen was a different person to producer Lee Jihoon, who was a different person to just Lee Jihoon— brooooo I love how the disassociation is so visceral here. He’s not evil, but he’s not innocent either, and he’s aware of that, which makes it all the more damning gybybgvydcrsrdcvfgb 😩

the man who was using a woman for his benefit.— ohhh ro, you could've tiptoed here, but you didn't and I love you for it! I also love that he’s not trying to spin it or giving himself excuses because he knows and he keeps doing it

Well, he was the one who was caught— oh?

and it was Seungkwan of all people, who had run into him one late night.— I love you, Seungkwan. Please save the day. The fate is already written and posted [hence me reading rn], but a girl can wish.

“She’s not someone you can hurt and leave when you want to. No one is.”— This is something every human being should know! Unfortunately, not everyone goes by it...

Seungkwan and his fucking stupid moral policing— Oof. Here comes the anger-as-defense mechanism.

There was nothing that Jihoon had not told her, so this line of thinking was irrelevant. — Nope. Jihoon, my guy 😭 please, the line of thinking isn’t irrelevant, it’s EXACTLY why you’re stuck in the elevator thinking. If it were truly irrelevant, would he still be stuck on it?

He found himself waiting for hours for a reply— heheh [I should NOT be heheh-ing], the fall from grace.

Now, he found himself waiting for hours for a reply, and even then, it was all noncommittal, nothing more than yes, maybe, or sorry, no, I’m busy. — This is the emotional equivalent of watching your own importance evaporate and you don’t even need to say much. The contrast alone tells the story. From dropping everything for him → to “sorry, no, I’m busy.” love it for her.

He can’t even hide how much it rankles— Ooh, yeah, rankles is the perfect word since isn’t rage or jealousy. It’s irritation at being replaceable and a simmering bitterness (?) imo.

He’s never seen her laugh that way.— ofc you did. You didn't make her laugh!!! Or even happy!!

Unfortunately, somewhere between using her for his emotional benefit and discovering she had moved on— Yeah. Unfortunately, Jihoon. Unfortunately, you accidentally developed a heart, huh?

her absence rankled in a place that was not quite familiar to him before.— Babe. It’s called missing someone.

Even when she was actively ignoring his texts— Queenshit!

He’s still the terrible toddler, she’s the one whose reputation is pristine.— ykw? It’s probably true. He is a terrible toddler. He did fuck it up.

He wants everyone to suffer along with him.— OH FUCK YOU 💀😭 bro you aren't okay, and instead of healing, you want to implode. You want the whole world to feel the same mess you're drowning in :(((

and threatened to kill Seokmin on three separate occasions, — 💀💀💀💀😭😭😭😭😂😂😂😂

“The girl you were actively trying to fuck over, hyung, she left.”— OH I LOVE how Seungkwan doesn’t sugarcoat a damn thing. Love him. Also love how it's not “the girl you dated,” not “your ex,” not even her name, just: “the girl you tried to fuck over.” I LOVE that the accusation is blunt, brutal, and so earned.

The subtext is clear.— crystal!

If he knew, he wouldn’t have let Jihoon go.— Oof. Yes! Would've loved a fight or an argument Bro doesn’t even deserve a glimpse of her shadow rn.

“I knew you’d be a phenomenal film composer.”— my sweet Vernon 🥺

She doesn’t even look at him.— ykw? I'll say it! This is the closing curtain. She’s above it now and not out of spite, but because he doesn’t exist in her narrative anymore. She’s the protagonist now.

Seungkwan claps like he’s the person behind her success (with all his subterfuge, he might as well be)— nah, fr, give Seungkwan his flowers.

Jihoon... doesn’t clap, doesn’t smile. He can’t even think properly.— Do you know why? Because he’s mourning the version of himself that she could have made better, had he not ruined it first.

To be associated with me is the equivalent of throwing mud on yourself.— lmao, do you see how full circle this is? In the beginning, he wouldn’t speak up to protect her name. Now he won’t clap for her to protect her name. It’s the same silence—but now it’s out of shame, not apathy.

In the end, the guy does not get the girl.— he doesn't deserve to.

All his love has amounted to, is this.— :((( love how all my love can give so much inspiration. Such as: my version of this song in my head, this version, and many other interpretations that I read. Beautiful.

love's labour lost (lee jihoon)

in the end, all he does is run away.

☆ lovers to strangers: lee jihoon x composer! reader ☆ w.c: 2.5k (shortest yet!) ☆ genres: idol au, angst, dissolution of a relationship, jihoon is an asshole here i'm sorry (or am i) based entirely on all my love ☆ written for bella's event !! thank you so much for letting me write this haha i had a lot of fun! ☆tagging: @bella-feed (bc it was her event) @mylovesstuffs (because she's the one who listens to me yap) @gyubakeries (my comrade in this mess) and @hannieoftheyear bc she loves a toxic romance

All my love has amounted to, is this. 

Jihoon doesn’t know where exactly he went wrong. He did the things that were expected of him, he said the right things, he went to the right places, met and schmoozed with the right people, and yet, at the end of the day, he was there, and they were not. 

Jihoon knows who he is, really. He knows he’s not the most expressive guy; knows he is a bit slow on the uptake, knows he comes off as intimidating and standoffish most of the time. He’s not the easiest guy to get close to, unfortunately. 

Which leaves him here, looking at the phone screen in dismay, rereading the final two texts he’s sent them. Even now, looking back at the relationship, he wants to ask, what happened? Where did he go wrong, where did they go wrong? There is nothing apparent within the texts; they’re meaningless, accounts of a bad day that Jihoon had been having, updates on his meals, everything that was mundane and bleak and yet, they contained so much of his heart. 

In the end, the conversation had petered out easily, like the final burst of a firework, there were no explosive arguments, no throwing things, no tears, nothing at all. No spark in his life, nothing that told him about the steady dissolution of something that went on for perhaps too long. Jihoon doesn’t know how to live life without them, and yet, somehow he does, muscle memory pulling him through the motions of the day with an accuracy that scares him at first. He wakes up, brushes his teeth, goes to the studio to write, and ends up staring at the blank pages of his diary for far longer than necessary. He goes to practise, goes through the motions of being a dancer with a degree of precision that scares him at first, but now, now he’s used to it. 

The rest of Seventeen leave him alone, whispering amongst themselves about how Jihoon has been pulling away from the world even more. Have you talked to him? They ask, and Jihoon has to use force to get Seungcheol out of his studio, an action that Cheol protests by sitting in front of his studio doors for an hour until they have schedules together. He’s supposed to be working on song lyrics for their upcoming album, but all he can think of is the last time he met her. It had been a hasty meeting, held in one of the many boardrooms at HYBE, and he kept avoiding her gaze as she tried to explain the new concepts that management wanted them to try out for the album. She had kept trying to meet his gaze, and he had kept avoiding her, feeling the weight of at least thirty pairs of eyes on his every reaction as she stumbled through her words and her scratch tracks. He had shook his head, trying to control his reactions as much as he could. She was a phenomenal writer, no doubt, but no one took her seriously, not in PLEDIS and HYBE, at least. When he stood up to present his work, with similar themes to hers, they all murmured compliments and nodded with positive affirmations. Out of the corner of his eye, Jihoon could see her shrink into her seat. She was never really someone who would speak up for herself, and Jihoon knew that. 

He doesn’t say anything, even when he knows he should. Instead, he sits back, and allows himself to take credit for her work, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach. Her eyes follow him for the whole day, a mix of sadness and something else entirely. Jihoon knows what that is, he just does nothing to change that look in them. 

She looks like a wounded animal, he realises that night at three a.m, sipping on coffee as he works on tracks sent by her on a single USB. the files always have the same names, nothing of note, nothing of importance. Just the name of the song she’s sending it in for, and the date and version of the file. There have been times where she’s sent in files with nothing but the name, Song Draft#1, or something like All My love, draft #2. He likes the way she writes these, likes the way her filenames leave nothing for him to question. On the other hand, Jihoon sends the producers and songwriters drafts named (very creatively) Vernon is being a bitch, or as on one single, memorable occasion, how do I kill Seokmin and bury his body without anyone knowing? They had looked at him like he was crazy, but really, Jihoon doesn’t mind. He likes being known as the crazy one, the problem child of the company. Jihoon remembers the one time he went on lockdown in the studio to make a whole album from scratch in a week, and the rest of the company gave him a wide berth, because really, no one wants to fuck with Lee Jihoon, the insufferable genius of Pledis. 

Which makes entire sense as to why she left him, of course. 

Jihoon is not a stranger to how awfully their relationship began. Even by his standards, the way he asked her out was shitty. They had been sitting in his studio, drinking coffee and working yet another late night, when he had turned to look at her, and said a single word, “chicken?”

“Huh?” she had asked, looking up from her laptop, “right now?”

“No, I mean later,” Jihoon had clarified, looking slightly exasperated at how slowly this was moving along, “chicken. Fried chicken. Do you want to get some with me?”

“Uh, sure.” She had turned back to her work, and Jihoon had nodded, murmuring, it’s a date, then. 

That was how it had begun. Jihoon knew he should not have begun a relationship, or even dated anyone like that, attaching himself to the first person who caught his eye after recovering from a breakup. He knows he should not do it, but he does it anyway. Watches as she gets grilled by higher-ups during meetings, watches as he opens his mouth to say something, but keeps quiet instead. Even his bandmates, people who barely knew her, tried to speak up when they could, but he kept his mouth shut. 

Why did he do that?

At first, it was to maintain distance, to maintain the farce that while they were professional colleagues during work hours, he was not pressing her up against the couch in his studio afterwards. A way to let himself know that the Lee Jihoon of Seventeen was a different person to producer Lee Jihoon, who was a different person to just Lee Jihoon, the man who was using a woman for his benefit. 

It all grew hot and cold, after a while. She stopped expecting things from him, he hadn’t been doing anything for her in the first place. Even with his growing guilt, Jihoon couldn’t stop going back to her day after day, taking whatever she gave, and leaving without giving anything in return. He had it down to a science, almost. 

They were caught once. Well, he was the one who was caught, and it was Seungkwan of all people, who had run into him one late night. Seungkwan was there for practice, and Jihoon was there because he wanted to unwind fuck in peace. They ran into each other in the company elevator, and Seungkwan just stared at him for three seconds, before opening his mouth, “don’t do this, hyung.”

Jihoon stared at him, too. What the hell? “What do you mean,” He’d asked, but from the look on Seungkwan’s face, any explanation was unnecessary. 

“Don’t hurt someone just because you’re hurting too, hyung,” Seungkwan muttered, before getting out of the elevator, “She’s not someone you can hurt and leave when you want to. No one is.”

With that, he was gone, leaving behind Jihoon, still in the elevator, thinking. Hewas free to do whatever he wanted, Seungkwan and his fucking stupid moral policing be damned. And she was an adult. She knew what he wanted, she knew what they were getting into. There was nothing that Jihoon had not told her, so this line of thinking was irrelevant. 

—

Slowly, things start to change. Jihoon suspects Seungkwan’s involvement, but without any proper proof, he can’t even charge the man with anything. She becomes slightly more confident, slightly more outgoing. Earlier, when he called her after work, she came running, no matter how busy she was. Now, he found himself waiting for hours for a reply, and even then, it was all noncommittal, nothing more than yes, maybe, or sorry, no, I’m busy. He got the second text far more often than the first one. 

And then one day, Vernon came into the studio, visibly excited, and started talking about her, “did you know?” He said, “she’s composing the music for this new film.”

“She is?” Jihoon can’t even hide how much it rankles, the news that she’s moved on beyond him, that now she’s begun work as a film composer, “which movie?”

Vernon, who apparently got the news from her, says the name, “it’s going to be shown at Jeonju International Festival, and the lead actor came here today! They finished production on the film, and he came to congratulate her and take a look at her workspace and all.”

Ah, so that was why. Jihoon doesn’t say anything, gives a grunt and goes back to his work, a sign that Vernon interprets as get out. He leaves his studio an hour later to go to the cafeteria, and he sees her eating with another person. The actor; he thinks, and then turns around to leave before she catches his eye. If he saw her, she would come over to greet him, he knew her well enough for that. 

And, he’s never seen her laugh that way 

—

Unfortunately, somewhere between using her for his emotional benefit and discovering she had moved on without him knowing, Jihoon’s feelings had changed. He now looked for her in every meeting; her absence rankled in a place that was not quite familiar to him before. Hell, he even missed the way she ate her food, it was a trivial detail, but now he remembers the way she would carefully arrange everything on her plate and obsess over calories, insisting that she needed to have a certain amount to not keel over and faint. 

Then the conversation peters out entirely. Even when she was actively ignoring his texts outside of work, she would respond to his emails, send over USBs with the song files she was working on, sit in on meetings to workshop lyrics. Those stop too, and now he gets USBs through harried interns who don’t know who they are from, or gets his emails rerouted to another (usually higher) person in charge. Nothing non-professional, nothing he can fault her for. It’s annoying. It’s fucking annoying, how in the end of this twisted fucking mess, Jihoon is only one with mud on his skin. He’s still the terrible toddler, she’s the one whose reputation is pristine. Jihoon didn’t much care for his reputation either way, but if he was getting called an asshole, with rumors of him pursuing and abandoning an employee, he wishes she were affected too. It's selfish to be thinking about another person like this, but Jihoon does not care. He wants everyone to suffer along with him. 

It’s been about a month now. Within this time, he’s been the worst version of himself, locked Cheol out of the studio, ignored everyone’s calls and threatened to kill Seokmin on three separate occasions, but it’s been a month. A month since she stopped responding, a month since he’s had any sort of news from her. He knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he craves it anyway. 

He runs into Seungkwan on the way to the studio one morning, and the younger man takes one look at him and shakes his head. Jihoon doesn’t say anything. He walks into the studio and closes the door behind him. 

“She’s left.”

Jihoon turns. Seungkwan had walked into the studio, and was looking at him with a mix of pain and contempt, “she’s left PLEDIS. Left HYBE.”

“Wait, what?” It’s his turn to not believe his ears, “who did?”

“The girl you were actively trying to fuck over, hyung, she left,” Seungkwan sighs, “and one more thing, I think it’s a good thing she did.”

“What?”

“She’s now a fully-fledged film composer, hyung,” Seungkwan replies, not a hint of sarcasm in his voice, “she’s composing scores for two more upcoming films and one television drama. She no longer needs PLEDIS.”

The subtext is clear. 

Jihoon says nothing, just allows Seungkwan to leave. 

—

Three months later, her film premiered at Jeonju International Film Festival. Four of them go; make a show of it, as per Cheol’s orders. He wasn’t aware of what Jihoon did. If he knew, he wouldn’t have let Jihoon go. Anyway, the four of them go, in show of support for an ex-coworker. It’s too much, even for them, he thinks, who the hell organised this? 

He gets his answer before the show, when Vernon shakes her hand enthusiastically, grinning, “I knew you’d be a phenomenal film composer.”

She doesn’t even look at him. 

They take their seats, it’s refreshing to be in a crowd of cinephiles where no one cares about who the hell SEVENTEEN are. Jihoon settles down into his seat, and the starting credits roll. 

The score remains with him even after the film ends. Jihoon doesn’t care for movies, not like Vernon does anyway, so he focuses on the score; which is haunting, stretching like a yawning cat over the expanse of the film, occasionally baring its claws to let people know the genius of its composer. She had done well, and now he thinks the reason why everyone was so critical of her was because they were scared. Cheol claps enthusiastically, Seungkwan claps like he’s the person behind her success (with all his subterfuge, he might as well be) and Vernon even lets out a whoop to show her how much he’s enjoyed her work. Jihoon, out of all the four of them, doesn’t do anything, doesn’t clap, doesn’t smile. He can’t even think properly. So she left the company to do this. To be a film composer. Why did it matter? Why did it matter to him how she lived her life? He used her, she left him, in the end, it was his own actions that led him to be this way. She has always remained the pristine one, unbothered and unaffected of anything that happened in any space. In the end, Jihoon doesn’t even clap, because he’s afraid of tainting her. To be associated with me is the equivalent of throwing mud on yourself, he reasons, as they walk out of the theatre and into a waiting car, this is better. This way, she doesn’t have to remember me anymore. 

Now he knows what he feels, but it’s far too little, far too late. As always. In the end, the guy does not get the girl. In the end, Lee Jihoon remains where he has always been, waiting, a spectator in someone else’s curtain call. All his love has amounted to, is this.