#not even gonna put an effort to this i feel like nobody's gonna read it but i am happy

[beanghostprincess]

I just wrote a very self-indulgent Koby/Helmeppo/Hibari fic about Hibari and Helmeppo comforting each other because they miss Koby... Sometimes you just need to write about that one ship only you enjoy to be truly happy!

[teruthecreator]

blegh

[pippin-katz]

Getting emotional over the BTS of the cake scene now that we have the context of his dog passing away the night before 🥺

I bet Nicholas was on his silliest behavior that day to try and keep cheering Taylor up, and then this:

They would hug each other after the insult scenes to "dispel the negative energy" and I'm like, oh my fucking god, being mean to Nicholas on top of how awful he was feeling was probably so hard, and he really needed those hugs.

Then this from the bloopers:

And these pics:

Nicholas was probably doing his very best to make Taylor laugh and smile despite how awful he felt. Paying attention to someone's behavior/mood and making a deliberate effort to help them in whatever way you can is the mark of a really, really good friend. In this case, Taylor needed cheering up, and that's exactly what Nick did.

I can't even put my emotions into words. Nobody touch me; I'm gonna start crying lmfao

Thanks for reading!! If you enjoyed this essay & would like to support me, you can give me a tip on my Ko-Fi! ☺️

[kryannoy]

Hey, can we have a Yan!Andrew Graves with Reader?

genre: sfw, headcanons + fic

characters: yandere!andrew graves x reader

warnings: manipulation, gaslighting, obsession, possessive andrew

a/n: i don't normally write yandere characters so this was a bit of a challenge. hope this suits your request and enjoyed reading!

He's so obsessed with you but he's subtle with it—more like whatever stupid thing he does, he'll make sure you don't see it.

When he loves you, he'll make sure to keep you happy just so you will always come to him whenever something happens. He'll open a bottle cap for you without being told, he'll wipe your mouth with his fingers if it's messy—totally not putting them in his mouth afterwards. He'll open the door for you, let you cry on his shoulder, gives you hugs when you need it. Every subtle thing to manipulate you into coming back to him when you need support.

If someone talks to you, he'll be right behind you with arms wrapped around your waist while glaring daggers at the other person.

"No, no. Continue. Don't mind me, pretend that I don't exist."

To you, his tone sounds normal but to the poor guy, it's like a cleaver skinning them alive.

If someone even looks at you without you knowing, it's gonna be hell for them. He somehow won't be afraid to kidnap that person, tie them up and threaten them with Andrew's favorite cleaver until the person is diagnosed with PTSD.

He will shamelessly go back to you with a smile on his handsome face as if nothing happened.

Andrew would kill anyone for you but if you tell him not to, he won't.

Although, he knows you would be scared if you saw him murdering people, he won't do it anyways. The last thing he wants is you running away from him.

You have no idea why people start to turn their backs on you and you would think that you've done something wrong. So, you ask Andrew for advice or if he knows anything, exactly what he planned for.

And he would smile innocently from his success and spread out his arms. You would dive into his comfy sweater without knowing the hands that are holding you are the hands that have done so many questionable and criminal acts.

"C'mere you. Aw, you poor thing! I'm sure no one hates you. Who would? They're probably out of social energy from a rough day or something. Don't you worry!"

He'll kiss your forehead, then your nose, and lastly, your lips. You would smile and he would smile into the kiss while thinking how naive you are.

He admits sometimes that he feels guilty for deceiving you but what can he do? How could he come up to you and admit to all the crimes he's done? You wouldn't look at him the same anymore, would you? Would you still love him despite knowing what he did or what he ate? He wouldn't take any risks. If he has the person he loves the most in his arms, why would he easily throw you away?

If the truth hasn't been told, he'll keep you for himself. He'll keep you forever.

You knew he acted differently than normal people. He's a little different because of his upbringing, and that's normal for kids with neglected parents growing up with a weird habit of theirs and that was just his charm, right?

Because you think it was just a charm of his, you didn't run when you had the chance to. Besides, if he was so sweet to you, so kind to you, so good to you, he wouldn't hurt you, would he?

There's a reunion dinner later tonight with your old high school mates and of course you're coming. You haven't seen your friends in a long time. You've already informed Andrew of this and for the past week he was okay with it, but why is his tone now sounded . . . different?

"You're going?" He asked from the couch. One of his legs propped up on the other and an arm over the couch. His green eyes look up and down at your fit that he knows you chose the best from your closet. You're going to meet some nobodies with that outfit? You didn't even wear something so pretty when he's around! Not that you aren't pretty. It's just you put a tiny bit less effort when going out or being with Andrew.

"I've already told you, haven't I?" You're putting on your shoes at the front door and you hear some shuffling. Your hand is at the doorknob now. "I'll be back before ten. I prom—"

The door slams shut again before you could even open a crack. You can feel him behind you. His hands on the door, caging you between him and the solid wood.

"You are not going." His voice is low, almost threatening.

You turn around to face. You do not want to have this conversation right now. You're going to be late, that is if you find a way to stir this around to go your way.

"Andrew, this is unfair. Last week, you told me I can go so why are you backing out now? Tonight of all days!"

It wasn't his intention to upset you nor ruin your night but why are they taking you away from him?

"Why are you still excited about going? Don't you remember what they've done to you? They isolated you . . . remember?"

They isolated you. Yeah, right. He was the reason behind it anyways, but poor you who loves him too never suspected your own boyfriend was the culprit.

"They . . . didn't. You said they didn't have the energy to talk," your voice was almost a whisper. You weren't even confident of your own answer. You're starting to reminisce about the old days at school. Sure, they didn't talk to you anymore, but the reunion dinner is going to be different, right?

His hand moves down to lock the door but his actions made you take a step back, hitting the door. You forgot you're kind of trapped right now with no way out unless reasoning with him first.

"You don't really have to go . . ." The same hand moves up to your hair, tucking some strands behind your ear ever so gently it's almost . . . unnervingly creepy. "Do you?"

His eyebrow raised in question.

Your heart is starting to pick up its pace. Your fingertips are running cold. You don't understand yourself why you're so nervous in front of him. I mean, you had been nervous around him but this is a different kind of nervous. It's fear. Fear of him. However, he never hurt you yet. He never raised his voice to you. He's always been nice and sweet to you. But you really can't help this weird feeling.

So you slowly tell him how you feel.

"You're scaring me."

And there it is. It hit something in him. It's the last thing he wants, but the first thing to make you listen to him.

You can see his facial expression changes from demanding to guilt.

"Love, there's nothing to be afraid of. It's just me!" His caging arms now freeing you while backing away a bit, most likely a tactic to show you he's innocent. "I'm just saying, wouldn't you be left out at dinner? I don't want my pretty girl coming home sad and disappointed when the past week you've been so excited about this dinner."

Andrew takes your silence to continue. "Stay here. With me."

You really want to insist on going yet you don't want to risk starting a fight. But it's unfair! You always let him win you over, now he needs to listen and let you go. Maybe a small chance could probably lead to a huge success.

"But please!" You drag the word longer, hoping he'll give in. "I haven't seen my friends for I don't how many years. It's just this once."

You seem energetic again. He takes this chance to step closer, a hand on the side of your face. His thumb brushes along your glossed lips you put on earlier, smudging it. His gaze move up from your lips to your eyes.

"I'm sorry, darling, but no means no." He said it so softly before he kissed you longingly. You somehow melt into him despite your disagreement. He's really not losing—like always.

He broke off the kiss to continue persuading you to stay. "I'm doing this for your own good. Sometimes you're too naive to be staying around them. You're too nice. I've seen it. And it hurts to watch you being used and throw you away."

You exhale a deep breath from the stress. Maybe Andrew's right. Maybe you are too naive to realize. They asked you for homework and notes, but then one day, they stopped talking to you. Maybe they really did see no use in you they've fulfilled their satisfaction.

But Andrew . . . Andrew never stopped talking to you. Andrew never threw you away. Andrew was always there through it all. Andrew never left you by yourself.

Like right now.

"Okay," you spoke softly, like a whisper, before nodding your head. "I'll stay in with you."

Good thing you were looking at the ground because now, Andrew can't hide the big smile on his face. He successfully manages to keep you by his side. His heart beats rapidly from the excitement, his skin was buzzing. He can be with you tonight. He can stay with you. Just the two of you!

He pulls you in his arms and strokes your hair. "That's my good girl. Always so obedient." He kisses the crown of your head before leading you to your bedroom so you can change to a more comfortable clothes.

He dreams of having you by his side forever but he doesn't want to go to extreme measures such as locking you in or tying you up. Maybe not just yet. Since you're so good to him and love him too, you deserve to roam around freely until you start to disobey.

He wouldn't want to do it but tonight, he was close to doing so just from how persistent you were.

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Eight: We'll Dance in the Street like Nobody's Watching

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.8k

Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, unprotected p in v, flirting, dads being dads. Two idiots falling in love and finally fucking admitting it. Joel is his own warning. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad and Joel uses various terms of endearment (darlin', sweetheart, etc.).

This chapter includes the scene that sparked the entire story idea. I've been patiently waiting for it to see the light of day. hope you enjoy!

Thank you so much to everyone who reads this self-indulgent story and extra thanks to those who comment and/or reblog - you all make me feel like a rock star!

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Chapter Seven | Main Masterlist

“So, how was it?” Grilling you for the past twenty minutes, Emily was relentless in her pursuit to find out just how good Joel was in bed, after congratulating you on the new job, of course. “Come on! I need to know!”

“Alright, alright! I had no idea you were such a needy bitch. Is your hubby not dicking you down enough or what?” you laughed before regaling her with tales of Joel’s prowess.

“I fuckin’ knew he’d be big and know how to use it! He just gives off that BDE, ya know what I mean? Just how big are we talkin’, anyway?”

Rolling your eyes, you laughed again. “Well, I didn’t fucking measure it, but it’s a definite handful. Besides, you’ve never even met him, Em! How could you possibly get that vibe?”

“I’ve seen photos and heard stories, that’s more than enough to pick up on that sorta thing,” Emily replied with the confidence of someone who damn well knows what she’s talking about. “I need to know more. Gimme all the details!”

“Yeah, yeah. Speaking of BDE, I gotta finish getting ready. Joel said he had something special planned for tonight to celebrate me getting the teaching job.”

“I bet he does. You’re gonna get another deep dicking from that huge—”

“Bye Em!” you cut her off and hit end call before she could carry on anymore.

Tossing the phone on your bed, you finished putting a light layer of makeup on, putting in a little more effort to look good tonight. Ten minutes later, dressed in a pair of dark, fitted jeans and a dark blue, long-sleeve, vee neck shirt that showed just a touch of cleavage, you wandered out to the living room.

“Alright Dad, I’m off. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Leaning over the back of his recliner, you press a kiss to his balding head.

“Have fun on your date and be careful, Spud. Call me if you need a ride home or anything,” he replied, patting your hand. You turned to leave, grabbing a light jacket from the hook by the door just in case, when your dad’s voice carried from the living room. “It’s funny, Joel told me he has a date tonight, too.”

Freezing for a moment, you squeak, “Oh, yeah?”

“Uh huh. Quite a coincidence me thinks.” He paused again, but you were at a loss for words and grateful that he couldn’t see your expression. “Enjoy your night, kiddo.”

Knowing a dismissal when you heard one, you take off through the door. Your mind raced on the short drive to Joel’s. He knows. Your dad so knows. You start to panic for a moment wondering if he’s upset before the realization hits that he didn’t seem remotely mad about it. More like he got a kick out of the idea and enjoyed teasing you. You and Joel had to fess up very soon, but that was a tomorrow problem. Tonight was meant to be all about you and Joel.

Walking through the front door, you expected to find Joel in the living room or kitchen, but the downstairs was empty. Lugging your overnight bag up the stairs, you thought maybe he’d be in his room or the bathroom still getting ready, but again, no sign of him. Where the hell was he?

Making your way down the stairs, you peeked out the window to make sure you didn’t imagine his truck in the driveway when you parked – it was there, right next to your car. He had to be around here somewhere. The sound of soft music hit your ears suddenly. Following the sound, you slipped out the back door and gasped.

A soft glow spread across the yard from lights strung from tree to tree, a plaid tablecloth covered the patio table on which sat a vase of brightly colored tulips, an open bottle of pinot noir, two stemless wine glasses, and two covered plates. Just beyond the patio, a hammock hung between two large live oaks with another set of string lights dangling above it. As your eyes took it all in, Joel stood off to the side watching you with a warm smile.

“Joel,” you whispered, afraid to disturb the dream-like quality of the moment, his name a drawn-out breath in the air when you finally turned to him. His dark eyes glinted from the string lights as he stepped forward out of the shadows, one hand stretched out towards you. There was no hesitation in reaching for him and you clung to each other for a few minutes before he stepped back to pull out a chair for you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, settling into the seat. When Joel took his place across the table from you, you added, “This is so lovely, Joel.”

A bashful smile graced his lips as he removed the covers from the plates and filled the wine glasses. Your gaze soaked in every little movement he made, in awe of the gorgeous man before you and all he’d done to make this evening special. Holding his glass up, he toasted to you. “Here’s to your new job and the start of a very rewarding career. Congrats darlin’.”

Clinking your glass against his lightly, you beamed at him. He looked so handsome, thick curls pushed back away from his face, tanned skin glowing in the soft lighting. “Thank you, Joel.” Already buzzing from the way he made you feel, you sipped lightly at the wine before digging into the meal before you.

Bursts of flavor hit your palette at the first bite, the chicken cooked to perfection and the sun-dried tomatoes adding just the right tang to the red pesto coating the rigatoni. A soft moan escaped before you caught it, cheeks heating up with the way Joel looked at you with hooded eyes.

“I reckon you like it?” he asked, a teasing lilt to his gravelly voice.

“This may be the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted, Joel. Did you make this?” You took another bite, savoring the flavors that exploded in your mouth.

“Mmhmm. It’s my mama’s recipe, she made it a lot when we were younger, and it’s always been my favorite. I’m glad you like it.” He watched you enjoy another forkful, obviously proud.

“I don’t just like it, Joel. This is fuckin’ delicious. I didn’t know you could cook like this!”

His cheeks turned pink as he cleared his throat. “I can’t, usually. I practiced a lot with this one.” That melted your heart further.

You ate your fill, making small conversation between bites, until your wine glass was empty, and your belly satisfied. Joel poured you another glass, which you sipped leisurely as he cleared the table and placed the dirty dishes in the dishwasher for later. He wouldn’t let you lift a finger.

“Dance with me?” he said upon his return outside, voice deep and gravelly as he plucked the glass from your hand and placed it on the table.

“I’d love to,” you replied softly, lips tilted upwards in a sweet smile. Holding his left hand out, Joel helped you to your feet and let you off the patio.

A new song began, volume a little louder now, and you stepped closer to him. A warm buzz spread through your veins when Joel pulled you against his broad chest, one arm wrapping around your waist and the other bent to hold your hand over his heart. You could feel the thump of his heartbeat beneath the green flannel he wore as he swayed you slowly around the grassy yard, careful to not stray too close to the pool.

Nothing ever felt as right as being there in Joel’s arms, dancing in the yard like the world beyond the fence didn’t exist. Your feelings for this man were overwhelming, growing deeper each and every day – hell, each and every second was more like it – and that four-letter word bubbled in your throat. You swallowed it down, settling your head against Joel’s shoulder, eyes closed and focused on the moment.

Joel’s chin tilted downward, nudging against the side of your face, his lips near your ear, and his breath sent delightful chills down your spine when he began to sing softly.

“Fall into me and I’ll catch you, darlin’. We’ll dance in the street like nobody’s watching. It’s just you and me and the song on repeat in my head, playing over and over…”

My god, how could you not fall in love with this incredible man?

The intimacy of it all brought tears to your eyes as your fingers threaded through the hair at the back of his head. Stomach alight with the flutter of too many butterflies, the urge to speak from your heart became too much, you could hold back no longer.

“I love you, Joel.”

You loved him.

What did he ever do to deserve something like that?

Heart clenching deep in his chest, Joel guided you to the hammock, music still carrying softly through the air. With amazing finesse, he settled you both on the hanging fabric, bodies snuggled together until you nearly became one.

He ached to say the words back to you, but they kept getting stuck in his throat. Instead, he settled for showing you how he felt, just like he did with dancing and singing in your ear – he could have written that song for how relatable it was to the feelings you brought out in him. Dark eyes stared into yours as his hands moved over your body, pulling you impossibly closer.

I love you, his lips said as they pressed heatedly against yours.

I love you, his tongue said as it licked softly into your mouth to tangle delicously with yours.

I love you, his hands said as they touched you with utter reverence.

I love you, his body said as he pressed it tightly against yours, trying in vain to crawl beneath your skin.

Joel kissed you with singular focus until you were both breathless and overwrought with need.

“Take me to bed, Joel,” you whispered when he finally tore his lips from yours. “I need to feel every bit of you.”

Your angelic voice music to his ears, he scrambled from the hammock, scooping you up in his muscled arms to carry you inside and up to his bedroom. His mind occupied by one thing and one thing only – making love to you until you knew every part of him and he knew every part of you – the string lights and last bit of wine were left forgotten in the yard.

Loving the way you clung to him, Joel swept through the house and up the stairs with an urgency he’d not felt before.

His lips moved to brush down your neck, nipping at the tender skin as he went. Once in his room, he closed the door even though you were the only two there. Joel kissed each new patch of skin bared as he removed your clothes until you were completely naked. Easing you back onto his unmade bed, a low growl rumbled from deep in his chest when your fingers slid along his scalp and tugged on his hair. Fucking lord did he love how you touched him.

“Fuck, I need to taste you, pretty girl.”

He’d never seen anyone or anything more beautiful in his life as your naked body writhed on his bed, eager and yearning for his touch, and Joel knelt to worship at the altar of you.

Starting at your delicate feet, Joel’s fingertips traced every inch of you until he reached the apex of your thighs. Leaning forward, he let the scruff of his facial hair tickle along the flesh of your inner thighs, pressing open-mouth kisses along the soft skin as he went. Grinning as you trembled, he met your wide gaze as he leant forward, tongue exploring your folds.

The first taste of you set his soul on fire. Sweet like honey yet more addicting and thrice as satisfying, Joel licked at your clit, tongue occasionally dipping down into you, slurping greedily at the very essence of you.

He couldn’t have thought of a more delicious dessert.

His movements elicited sensuous moans that shot straight to his cock, his jeans quickly becoming too tight and uncomfortable. Seeking a little relief, his hips began grinding against the mattress as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, fingers soon assisting his tongue in driving you mad. Just when he thought he might blow his load in his jeans, again, you came, crying his name out, the syllables drawing out in a beautiful, lyrical drawl. Working you through it, Joel drank down every bit of your release like a thirsty man in the desert.

“Fuck, darlin’. You taste fuckin’ delicious. I could live here, between your legs, for the rest of my life, surviving on just you.” Joel stood as he spoke, gazing down at your blissed out form on his bed as he tore off his clothes, one large hand palming his cock before he practically dove into bed with you.

“You’re too good at that, Joel Miller,” you said, the words falling lazily from your lips as you recovered from the singularly intense orgasm. Swooping down, Joel kissed you passionately, offering you a taste of yourself lingering on his tongue.

Letting his body continue to do the communicating for him, Joel shifted his hips, grinding gently against you while his mouth devoured yours. Groaning as your nails scratched down his back, he reached a hand down to guide his cock toward its home in your pussy. Dark eyes opened wide, Joel watched your face as he entered you, delighting in the scrunch of your nose and the way your eyes squeezed shut before popping open again at the sensation of him splitting you open.

With long, slow, oh so deep, strokes, Joel made love to you, telegraphing the depth of his feelings in the only way he knew how, until you were writhing in pleasure beneath him. Afterwards, he cleaned the mess between your thighs and held you close until you fell asleep with your head resting on his chest. Only then, did he finally whisper the words he longed to say all night. “I love you, too.”

Joel stayed awake for a while, listening to your gentle snores and the soft sighs you made in your sleep. He loved that you let your guard down with him, that he was the man who got to hold you while you slept. In the darkness of night, Joel made himself a promise that he would not fuck this up before falling into a deep sleep of his own.

His dreams were particularly vivid, the sensation of your mouth around his cock so strong he’d swear it was real. He’d never experienced your mouth around him like that before, though, so it couldn’t be real. Joel let his dream-self enjoy every moment, your lips around his shaft and tongue teasing the throbbing vein along the underside of his cock a divinity he’d never known before. At one point you took him so deep that a loud, guttural moan escaped his lips, hands clenching in your hair.

Eyes popping open, the moan carried on, rumbling from deep within Joel’s chest as he glanced down to find you feasting on his hardened length. It wasn’t a dream after all.

“Fuuuccckkk,” his voice, still rough with sleep, drew out the word as he watched you go down on him. Your mouth a form of heaven he suffered too long without, the cheeky, mischievous look in your eye making the pleasure more intense. You clearly enjoyed the act nearly as much as he did.

It didn’t take long before your wanton rhythm and sinful mouth had him coming down your throat, your name a prayer recited over and over in that gravelly voice. “Jesus fucking Christ, darlin’. Where’d you learn to suck cock like that, hmm? Your mouth is like God damn heaven.”

Joel’s chest heaved as you gulped down every drop of his spend, tongue darting out to lick the last bit from the little slit on his cockhead before sliding over your lips. You visibly swallowed, savoring the taste of him; his eyes glued to your mouth the whole time. His hand came up, caressing your face with the love he couldn’t yet voice shining brightly in his eyes, and his thumb traced along your plump bottom lip.

“My little gummy worm,” he murmured, delirious from coming so hard. “Felt so good wrapped around my fat cock.”

Crawling up his body, you settled your weight atop him and pressed your lips to his, letting him taste a hint of himself on your tongue as licked into his mouth, returning the favor from the night before. The kiss was languid and sloppy, perfect for a lazy morning waking up together.

“You tasted good, all salty and musky,” you said once you broke away, voice raspy from having his dick halfway down your throat.

“You can wake me up like that any time you’d like, darlin’.”

The two of you cuddled for a while, neither of you too eager to start the day knowing you didn’t have anything pressing to do. Those unspoken words bubbled in Joel’s chest the whole time, begging to come to the surface, to be spoken aloud and given credence. Still, he hesitated without quite knowing why. Finally rolling out of bed around 10, you jumped into the shower while Joel threw on some clothes and ran out to grab some breakfast.

He just pulled back into his driveway, a bag with a few bagel breakfast sandwiches in one hand – he got an extra in case you wanted pork roll instead of bacon – a coffee and orange juice clutched in the other, when JB’s truck pulled up in front of his house.

Settled on the couch after your refreshing shower, legs tucked under you while scrolling through your phone, you heard Joel’s truck pull up. Waiting for him to come in with breakfast for you both, you were caught off guard by the deep voices rumbling in the front yard. You sat up, peeking through the blinds to find your dad out front, hands on his hips as he spoke to Joel.

Oh shit.

You couldn’t discern their facial expressions from that angle and moved to the front door, quietly easing the heavy wood open to peek out and eavesdrop. They had to be talking about you, right? There was no hiding or pretending you weren’t here, especially with your car parked in the driveway right next to Joel’s. After your dad’s comments last night, you wondered if he planned this ambush then.

“I knew she’d be here,” you heard your dad say, but you couldn’t read his body language clearly. His hands were on his hips still, but there was a smile on his face. “You sweet on my baby girl, Joel?”

You couldn’t hear Joel’s response, his gravelly voice pitched too low for your ears to catch across the distance, but you could see him smile hesitantly even as his broad shoulders hunched slightly. Whatever it was caused your dad to chuckle and punch Joel playfully.

“I knew it!” your dad exclaimed, the sudden loudness startling you. “I knew you two would hit it off, I just wasn’t sure how long it’d take.”

You caught Joel’s response this time, his surprised voice pitching upwards. “You’re not upset?”

Walking toward the house without invitation, your dad paused. “Why the hell would I be upset? You’re a good man, Joel, and I know you’ll treat her well. And she’ll be good for you, too, I have no doubt. Now, you got enough in that there bag for breakfast for three?”

Your shoulders sagged with relief as you eased the door open. “I thought I heard voices! Hi Dad,” you greeted. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey Spud. I could ask you the same thing, but I knew I’d find you here.” Pulling you in for a hug, he ushered you inside. “I got tired of waiting for you two to come clean and thought I’d put you both on the spot.”

Eyebrows shooting up, you glanced at Joel before meeting your dad’s gaze again. “How did you know?”

Giving you a shrug, he said, “You two weren’t exactly subtle and a father always knows.” Nudging your shoulder, JB turned to Joel. “You’ll find that out soon enough, my friend. I can’t wait for the trouble that Sarah will give you.”

The three of you sat at the small dining table, digging into the breakfast sandwiches, your dad insisting you tell him how long you and Joel had been seeing each other and how it all started. Relieved to finally have the truth out there, you told him the story and JB chuckled.

“That about tracks. That’s right around when I started to notice something different between the two of you. And it sure explains why you hardly gave Annica the time of day on your date.” JB gave Joel grief about that failed date for weeks knowing that there was something – or someone – else drawing the man’s attention. JB had the feeling back then that it was you, his baby girl, his grown-up Spud, who captured the single father’s attention.

“You sure you’re okay with this, Dad? I mean…” your words fell off, not really knowing what to say. You’d be heartbroken if your dad wasn’t okay with a relationship between you and Joel, especially now that you verbally admitted to being in love with him.

“Are you kidding? I’m happy as a pig in shit that the two people I care about most like each other.” Your dad was all smiles, beady eyes sparkling with mischief. “In fact, I was planning on setting the two of you up if you didn’t figure things out for yourselves first. Tommy was in on the plan, too, and was the one who suggested we give it a little time. Little shit never told me it became official, though.”

Sitting back in your seat, you giggled with relief. All that time spent fretting over what your dad might think, feeling guilty for dating his best friend and hiding it from him for so long. It was all for naught. You should have known he’d love the idea of you two together.

“So, when’s the wedding?” JB asked, a shit-eating grin spread across his lips as you and Joel froze, eyes darting to each other in wide-eyed panic. Your dad practically guffawed at his own humor while you two were practically having a panic attack. “I’m just kidding – there’s no rush. Just make sure you treat her right, Joel.”

Recovering from the initial panic – not that he didn’t want to marry you, eventually, just not quite this soon – Joel laughed a little nervously. “Of course, JB. I’ll always treat her right. I, uh… I love her.” His gaze shifted to you, heart showing firmly in those dark chocolate orbs. “I love you, darlin'.”

tbc

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx

@pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr

@lulawantmula @islacharlotte @allyourfavesinoneblog @lover-of-books-and-tea @pedropascalsbbg

@ashleyfilm @brittmb115 @lilmizmoz @loveisacowboyyy @shotgun-shelby

@deninoe @casssiopeia @caitlynsixxx @skysmiller @missladym1981

@marirxse @lizzie-cakes @tynakub

[theycalledhimastar]

You guys seemed to like the last one, so here, more weird shit except with my darling dearest husband, Captain Price.

☄. *.

We all kinda knew this already, but this man snores something horrendous. Like he sounds like the tiktok audio of someone's dad snoring. You thought it wasn't possible to be kept up by snoring this loud until you slept in the same room as John.

LIKE BABY BOY YOU NEED TO GET THAT CHECKED OUT THAT IS NOT NATURAL

Sneezes equally loud too, although I'm not really saying anything the rest of the fandom hasn't already, so let's get specific, shall we?

Watches the news and reads the newspaper unironically. And the newspaper isn't even digital, mans wants to read it on paper. He seriously pays for a subscription to that stuff and reads it every morning during breakfast. Says it ain't the same with a tablet or phone despite him being fully capable of using both.

Is the type to halfway pay attention during a movie because he's distracted or doing something else and then ask questions about everything. But if you ever try to do the same, he gets irritated and tells you (lovingly) to pay attention if you want to know.

Like exsqueeze me? Rich coming from you bro. Real Rich.

The type to stock up on something if it's on sale whether or not you actually want it or need it.

"John, we have plenty of paper towels at home."

"Yeah babe, but 40 percent off, that's a damn good deal."

like boo bear it's not the pandemic, we don't need to do that.

Maybe invest in a large pantry because you will need it. For the fifty million on sale items you'll have.

good at remembering the melodies to songs, terrible about remembering the words. So he hums everything or makes up his own words to make you laugh.

Mixes all his food together when he gets it so it's all one unanimous texture. (Idk man, this one, I just feel in my soul.) Like bro mixed his vegetables with his potatoes before he ate it, and he did it meticulously to ensure it was done right. Not that he doesn't love your cooking, he just has to eat it this way or it doesn't feel right.

Smells like Febreze. Like, if he's going somewhere nice, he will wear a nice cologne and stuff, but if he's having a relaxing day off, he smells like Febreze to cover up the smell of cigar smoke. Insists it smells less intrusive. You beg to differ, but whatever, he's trying.

Hot take, he puts all his effort into his facial hair that he doesn't bother with his straight up hair. He slaps a hat on it and calls it good because like, nobody's gonna see it anyways. He has it short so he doesn't have to comb it constantly. (Unless of course, he has somewhere nice to be.)

[daysofyellowroses]

cherry

carmen berzatto x reader | 2.2k | 18+ minors dni | tw: smut, more smut & tooth-rotting cuteness

prompt was: Carmy doing something mad cheesy and cute for his girl on v-day like he tells her that he has to work on valentines just to surprise her with a super romantic evening like you get home and there’s nice music playing there’s heart confetti in the entry way leading to the dining room and a huge bouquet of roses and a cute teddy bear is on the table and he’s in the kitchen finishing up something looking straight out of a Michelin star menu and he’s like “ oh I bought you new comfy clothes and I got your favorite movie ready for us “ and there’s candles and champagne and you’re just over the moon happy bc he would just do it for his girl bc he wants her to be happy and feel loved and not just bc he wants his dick wet (even though I mean after all the effort he’s ofc getting a big reward) but I could see him totally not even caring about the sexual part and just wanting to worship his girl that day and appreciate how much love they share - as requested by the very lovely and extremely talented @thecapricunt1616 if you don't go check out their work then..you are missing out, go read the bear & his honey it is phenomenal 🌼

this is a valentine's themed story, and i may not be posting it on actual valentine's day but i am posting it on galentine's day which is, frankly, the superior day anyway 🌼

🐻

As much as you didn't really care about Valentine's Day, part of you was still a little disappointed when Carmy told you that he'd put himself down to work a late shift, having forgotten what day it would be. Nobody could swap with him and you accepted that it would just be a regular day.

It wasn't like you and Carm never had dates or didn't do romantic things for each other but..it would have been nice to spend the evening together, even just relaxing on the couch.

From the moment you woke up on the 14th, there was seemingly no escape from the fact that it was Valentine's Day. Every song on the radio was a love song, social media was already flooded with endless posts of love heart pancakes, it was a little much.

Then there was work. At first it was a little cute, the management had arranged for everyone to get a little rose, and there were a couple of boxes of fancy chocolates in the break room. But then there was a seemingly unending stream of couriers dropping off huge bouquets of flowers, giant teddies, endless cards. You were sure some of them had been sent by the recipients anyway, rolling your eyes as yet another excited shriek sounded.

It wasn't that you were jealous, it would actually be pretty mortifying to have to stand there while some random guy belted out a song or recited a horribly cheesy poem at you. It was more of a reminder that you were just having a normal day, you wouldn't get to go home and spend the evening with your boyfriend, feel immense love and happiness.

At the end of the day, you could barely breathe in the elevator, cramped in at the back, surrounded by teddies and flowers, the scent overwhelming. You looked up to the ceiling, taking a deep breath and trying to tune out the chatter happening around you.

‘We actually got reservations at Ever’

‘We're spending the night at the Peninsula’

‘I definitely think he's gonna propose, I found a Tiffany brochure in the nightstand’

When you got to your car, you took a moment to enjoy the silence once you sat in before hooking your phone up to the speaker and blasting your least romantic playlist.

You stopped off at the nearest supermarket on the way home, picking up a bottle of wine, a frozen pizza and some already half-off heart shaped candies by the cash register. There were at least three men ahead of you in the line, all frantically checking their watches as they clutched slightly wilted bouquets and expensive cards.

By the time you got home all you wanted to do was sink into the bath with your bottle of wine, and forget about the day. You took your phone out as you left the car, sending a quick message to Carmy as you made your way into the building.

‘Hey babe, hope work is going okay. Love you ❤️’

You tucked your phone into your pocket before reaching into your bag for your keys, jostling the grocery bag in your other arm.

As soon as you opened the door you could sense something was happening, raising a brow as you heard music playing. The lights were on, dimmed low. You closed the door, looking down at the ground and turning slowly.

There were rose petals strewn across the floor in the shape of a heart, with more loose petals leading down to the living room. You smiled to yourself, biting your lip as you shook your head. Either you had a boyfriend who'd told you a white lie or a very romantic burglar had broken in.

You set the grocery bag down in the hall, taking off your coat and hanging it up before walking into the living room. You couldn't help but laugh with joy, placing your hand over your mouth as you found the biggest bouquet of roses you'd ever seen sitting on the middle of the coffee table.

Sitting on the couch was a stupidly large teddy bear, wearing Carm's beef t-shirt that was more often worn by you anyway. You walked over to the couch, smiling as you touched the teddy's soft head. You looked over your shoulder as you heard a familiar voice, finding your boyfriend leaning against the doorway, his sleeves rolled up and a dish towel over his shoulder.

“Hey,” You grinned. “could've sworn you said you had to work tonight.”

“Well..about that,” Carm grinned, holding out his hand. “there's a chance I was lying.”

“Just a slim chance, is it?” You raised a brow with a smile, stepping closer and taking Carm's hand before he gently dragged you into the kitchen.

“So slim,” Carmy nodded, pulling you in for a kiss before you pulled back and took in the sight of the kitchen. The lights were dimmed low, candles dotted about on the counter and the table, a bottle of wine you knew was super expensive and two glasses waiting.

“Hope you don't mind.”

“I suppose I can forgive you,” You murmured softly, unable to stop smiling as you looked back at your boyfriend. “just this once. This is all..incredible, I can't believe you've done this.”

“I can be romantic when I want to be.” Carm winked at you, walking to the oven and slowly opening it.

You took a deep breath as you took everything in, your hand over your heart.

You wanted to tell Carm that he was always romantic, even when he didn't think he was. Like when he would bring home a dessert for you, when he would let you steal his clothes, dance with you in the kitchen after a long day, spend whole days wrapped around you when you just needed him to be there and couldn't go anywhere.

You wanted to tell him he didn't need to do so much, but..you loved that he did. Yes, it was a slightly ridiculous made up day that had driven you crazy but when it was Carm making such an effort to treat you..it felt important and real.

“Oh, before I forget,”

You snapped out of your thoughts as you heard Carm's voice, looking over to him.

“I know you said you didn't need it but..I got you that hoodie you wanted,” He smiled. “with the..letters and all that. It's in the bedroom.”

“I don't know what to say,” You smiled, tears starting to well in your eyes. “I..”

“Then don't say anything,” Carm shrugged with a grin. “Just enjoy.”

“That I can do.” You nodded, stepping closer to give him a kiss before heading to the bedroom, your heart achingly full.

Sitting on the floor by your bed was a pink gift bag, red tissue paper with white hearts placed on the top of it. You pictured Carm carefully arranging the paper, wanting it to be perfect.

You went to the bag, carefully moving the tissue paper and reaching inside it to pull out a ridiculously soft hoodie, tears starting to spill from your eyes. You had mentioned, weeks back, when you were laying on the couch with Carm one evening that you had seen a hoodie you liked, lifting your phone to show him. He'd asked if you were going to buy it and you said you'd think about, but it was a little too expensive.

And suddenly there it was, in your hands. You carefully laid it on the bed before going for a shower, laughing to yourself when you thought about how lucky you were, barely able to believe it. After your shower you put on your new hoodie, letting out a relaxed sigh at how soft it felt.

Once you were ready you went to the kitchen, just in time for Carm to hand you a plate and a glass of wine.

“It's just pasta,” He smiled, kissing your cheek. “Come on, I got the movie ready to go.”

You looked down to your plate, raising a brow. In theory it was just pasta, in reality it was a work of art.

“This is too beautiful to eat,” You grinned, looking over to Carm as he got his own plate. “But I'm willing to ignore that.”

As you walked into the living room, you laughed softly as you saw what was waiting on the screen, looking over to Carm.

“We don't have to watch it again.”

“I know, but we will,” He grinned. “It's your favorite.”

“You're my favorite, you softy.” You smiled, sitting down on the couch beside the teddy and resting your plate on your lap. Carm went to sit beside you, picking up the teddy and carefully setting it aside.

“Sorry buddy, she's all mine.”

After the most perfect dinner, you laid down on the couch, your head in Carm's lap as he trailed his fingers along your arm.

“I love you,” You murmured softly, turning to look up at your boyfriend. “kinda feels like I should tell you, getting that vibe today.”

“That's so funny, I got the same vibe,” Carm grinned, moving his hand to touch your cheek gently. “I love you too. So much.”

You sat up, gently touching Carm's cheek as you leaned in for a kiss, your heart swelling as you felt him smile against your lips.

After a while you found yourself sitting in Carm's lap, your hands gently moving through his hair, his hands under your hoodie and gently stroking your waist.

It was slow and intimate and perfect, but you could feel a growing need for more.

As if he could sense your rising desire, Carm pulled back and smiled as he touched your cheek, his eyes focused on you.

“We don't..we don't have to do anything, if you're not in the mood,” He murmured softly. “I'm having the time of my life just being in the same room as you.”

You could have cried. Cried because you knew he truly meant it. He never did anything for you because he expected something in return, never made you feel like you owed him something. Even on a day that basically forced couples into bed, you knew he wouldn't be upset or push you if you said no.

“Look at you,” You murmured with a grin, touching Carm's cheek. “you are so perfect it makes me worry that you're actually a psychopath. Luckily you're a chef so I don't have to worry too much about that.”

He laughed and kissed you deeply, your arms winding around his neck.

“I'm serious,” He smiled as he rested his forehead against yours. “just because it's a certain day it doesn't mean we need to do anything.”

“I know,” You grinned, pulling back and moving your hand to gently stroke Carm's hair. “but I would want to be with you no matter what day. And I haven't given you your gift yet.”

“Oh yeah?” Carm raised a brow, unable to hide the grin on his face. “What is it?”

“A surprise of course,” You teased, getting up from the couch, holding your hand out. “come with me and find out.”

He does.

You take him to the bedroom, after a couple of stops for one of you to pull the other in for a kiss.

You tell him to get on the bed, you stand at the end of it.

Despite the slight nerves, you relax when he smiles at you. Your leggings are slowly peeled off, your hoodie pulled away to leave you in a lingerie set that, judging by the way Carm's jaw fell open, was absolutely worth the money.

You give him a full view, turning around in a slow circle before crawling onto the bed and into his lap.

It's quite impressive how speechless he is, taking a moment before he surges forward and kisses you deeply.

His hands are everywhere, fingers digging into you in the most wonderful way. It doesn't take long for marks to bloom on your neck and chest, for you go be laid out on your back, panties tugged aside. He stops you when you go to peel them off, tells you how pretty they make you look .

He takes his time, tongue working you over slowly. You beg for more, he gives you more. His fingers stretch you so perfectly it's almost enough but not quite.

You see stars, breath catching in your throat as you cry out. He moves on top of you, you pull him in to taste yourself.

He's pushed onto his back, you graze your nails over his jeans, tell him to take it all off, slowly. He obliges, a deeper hunger growing in you as he reveals himself to you. Every time feels like the first time, fills you with desire.

Your hand grips his wrist as he goes to take off his shorts, you tell him you got it. His hand moves into your hair as you taste him, endless praise spills from his lips.

Your hands grip the sheets, your back arched as you moan louder than you ever thought possible. His hand moves along your back, his touch firm but full of love.

You lay side by side, hands reaching out to touch each other as your heads turn and eyes meet.

There are no words, but you both know what they are.

After a while you slip your hoodie back on, give Carm a wink as you leave the room.

As you sit between Carm's legs, his arms wrapped firmly around you as you look back and feed him a half-off chocolate, you think maybe this Valentine's Day thing isn't so bad after all.

[lotus-pear]

Can we stop acting like dazai was the devil. Like yes he did bad things but he was a child. He was 15 alone and in the mafia where althe was told to do was bad things. ALL dazai knew how to do is lie and deceive because it what he's always had to do.it's self preservation. Like??? When will people realize dazai wasn't a monster and was justa child brought up in an Unsafe and abusive environment. Behaviors are learned your aren't born with them. Dazai was a suicidal child just trying to survive all'he knew was manipulation and Iying because that's all he was taught. He abused akutagawa because that's all he was taught. And as he got older it's all he knows how to do. Obviously he's gotten better but he's still morally grey. And that's ok but it's not enough to call him a monster. hes trying so so hard to change, and even if he may not realise it or cling guiltily to his past, the entire prison arc shows how much effort hes put in to become a better person it isnt easy, growing up exposed to death/violence resulting in empathy and apathy issues, all while battling an emptiness inside thats slowly eating up ones will to live. hes genuinely trying to recover from that period of his life, and i cannot express how proud i am solely because of that. hes finally found a healthy environment, a family, and he deserves it along with so much more. he may be deemed as a “monster“ in the past, that cannot be erased, but he hates that part about himself too. being in the good or bad used to make no difference to him, but i strongly believe it does hate that part of him.  Dazai slander are fún and everything - BUT people seem to not get his character right. No, he's not an edgy boy. He genuinely wants to change for the best to make Oda proud, 'BUT HE ABUSED AKUTAGAWA’ , yeah, Akutagawa abused Kyoka and nobody is talking about how its litterally GENERATIONAL TRAUMA. Dazal was never raised correctly, he got raised by Mori and used by him to make him his right hand, maybe because of his ability, or he saw potential in him. He never fell parental Love nor being special to Someone except for Oda. "He LEFT Chuuya!!!“ ok and? Chuuya doesn't need him to live: Dazai LITTERALLY SAW PEOPLE GETTING KILLED/KILLING THEM ON THE DAILEY (AND HE WITNISSED ODAS DEATH - THE ONLY PERSON THAT MADE HIM WANT TO CHANGE.) his eyes at the age of 14, and Mori made him live in a shipping container. Obviously he is not gonna feel human after all this.

And about him and chuuya - the thing is they DO CARE ABOUT EACHOTHER. but nobody seems to care about chuuya other than the fact hes hot asf anf the fact that he is ’super mega gay for dazai 🥺🥺🥺’ because are we reading/watching the same series???? There’s SO MUCH to his character too!!!! But all everyone talks about with him is with dazai, chuuyas character is CRAZY WELL WRITTEN and everyone dumbs it down to ‘he’s an angry short boy with a god inside him and he’s mega gay for dazai and he’s also really hot’ like no - stfu he’s not actually super hot headed and it’s CANNON he’s usually pretty calm and collected. On the other side of the coin is that dazai DOES care about him - in Stormbringer ; Dazai literally willing gave Chuuya an option to either use corruption on Verlaine when he used his true form or to retreat and not do it, which gave a sense of Dazai giving Chuuya the choice to do what he wants without forcing him to, and the fact that when Chuuya used corruption, he was being injured badly to the point where Abahabaki was going to destroy Chuuya which FREAKED DAZAI OUT , and the fact that Dazai certainly believes that Chuuya is human shows that Dazai does care about Chuuya in certain ways without showing due to afraid of losing someone he cares about. and In age 15 Dazai, was willing to help Chuuya to find Abahabaki and defeat Rimbaud, along with stormbringer with him helping Chuuya to find out if he's human or not and to defeat Verlaine.

Ty for reading my rant 💞💞💞💞

i can't tell if this is attacking me or just a rant in general but anyway YESSSSS I 100% AGREE YOU ATE W THAT ANALYSIS BRIAR‼️‼️

[musicalmoritz]

Good Femslash Fics Already Exist

With the whole push for more femslash in fandoms, I’ve never understood the amount of hate I see femslash “fans” direct towards existing creations. There’s nothing wrong with wanting more variety, I do too, but every time someone brings up the fact that femslash fan fictions are already being written someone opens their mouth to say “yeah but those suck.” And then they proceed to read 300+ atrociously mischaracterized mlm fics. They complain abt plotless fluff and then read the exact same pwp scenarios over and over again

And hey, if you don’t want to read femslash that’s totally fine. You don’t have to pretend it interests you. I’m someone who actively looks for femslash and my only problem has been a lack of content in smaller/male-dominated fandoms, the fics themselves are cute af. Ya’ll are missing out on some real masterpieces by labeling all existing femslash fics as “boring,” some of my favorite fics ever are femslash. If an mlm ship invades the tags just filter it out, filter out every mlm pairing in the fandom if you have to. AO3 gives us that option for a reason

I’m not saying we don’t need more variety, but we’re not going to get that by shitting on writers who actively put in the work to make more femslash. When I started writing femslash consistently it was very discouraging because I’d seen soooooo many people online saying they want more femslash fics, yet nobody was reading mine. Then I looked at the stats on other femslash fics and they were the same, really great fics were barely getting any hits or kudos. It kinda sucks knowing that an mlm fic I wrote in 3 hours got more kudos than a wlw fic I spent months on (for pairings of relatively equal popularity). This seems to be the biggest roadblock for people wanting to write femslash, no one supports it. Even tho fandoms claim they would support it, they never do. It’s something I’ve learned to stop caring about but not every writer is gonna push through

This brings me back to a comment I saw about “boring, hair-braidy wlw fics.” That description really stood out to me, and to this day it makes me feel a little self-conscious about my old femslash fics that were “boring” and “hair-braidy.” But then I came across a fic for this one pairing that had actual hair-braiding. It was incredibly well-written and meaningful, exploring how both characters struggled to ask for help but they were able to recognize each other’s dilemmas and help in subtle ways. They did this, of course, by fixing each other’s hair when they both felt helpless to do anything with it. Such a simple way to express a very deep bond. This made me reassess the way people talk about femslash fics, and the way I’d been thinking of them myself. Is fluff really that much of a crime?? Do all cottagecore-type fics really have no substance?? Do femslash fics have to copy exactly what slash fics are doing, or are they allowed to have their own tropes??

My attitude towards the overload of plotless fluff wlw fics is “this is a good starting point.” We need more people writing femslash, more variety in what is written, but that doesn’t mean what we have is bad. I critique wlw fic tropes a lot but I always give the disclaimer that I actually love the fics themselves, I just want to see more of a different thing. And I comment on every femslash fic I read (every fic I read in general but especially femslash), I try to leave something thoughtful to let the writer know I appreciate the effort they put into their work. You’d be surprised how many writers said they were encouraged to update a fic or write more femslash because of a positive comment I left them. Engaging with fics will give you more of a good thing. It has so much more influence than that video you’re about to make talking about how there’s no good femslash fics. When you say things like that it actually discourages people from writing, and makes them feel bad about things they’ve already written. Support femslash writers guys, it’s sexy

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #76

You know. After a day or so to process this version of events, I think I can finally put into words why so many people cry out for your blood, but not Rufus's or his father's, even though they've done things that are arguably far worse than anything you've ever done. Goodness, but isn't it the same age-old story of people villainizing abuse victims for striking back while excusing the abuser that broke the survivor to that point? And we see it all the time in my world; nobody does anything about bullying at school until the bullied person finally punches their bully in the face, and then the bully gets off scot-free while the victim gets suspended. I think of spouses who, backed into a corner and trying to defend themselves, strike back at the spouse who has been abusing them, and the spouse defending themselves gets charges pressed while the other one who had been abusing them gets pitied. I think about trafficked humans (many of them are snatched up as CHILDREN) who, in an effort to get free or to defend themselves, strike back at the person trafficking them and escape, only to then face a world who hates them for having been trafficked. And all of these things have one thing in common: the price for escaping from being "owned" is often another form of punishment or imprisonment.

Of course, I am not saying that people should call for Rufus's or his father's blood, either. Or even for Hojo's. They are not different from you - either they have congenital defects in the parts of their brain that are responsible for empathy (and pretending like this is a moral issue instead of a brain wiring issue is ableism), or they've lived lives that have beaten their psyches into a shape that makes them think that hurting other people and treating them like objects is the only way to survive. This is ALSO a brain wiring issue - though this kind of brain wiring issue is better classified as a psychological injury (due to attachment disruption or childhood trauma) than as an illness or congenital defect.

Yeah, you read all of that right. I said what I said and I meant it, and I know that people aren't gonna like it, but today I am tired and bitter from all the shit I'm seeing, and out of fucks to give as a result. I don't demonize Rufus or his father. I don't demonize Hojo, either. They have done horrific and inexcusable things and I feel very angry in response to that, but they need HELP. They, too, are capable of making a different choice and turning around. Imagine that. It's almost as though calling for mercy for you (or in other words, "being a Sephiroth fan" or a "Sephiroth apologist", as people like to call folks like me for the purpose of degrading us) has absolutely nothing to do with your looks or with trying to "fix" you so I can date you (I'm sorry, but the idea of "fixing" a person to get with them is absolutely fucking barftastic🤢🤮), or whatever other bullshit nonsense that people who have never been through severe and ongoing grooming or abuse without any kind of support (support can be from a teacher, friend, other family member, etc.) like to accuse us of. Hoodathunkit?

I think, too, that lots of people see that potentially destructive side of you in themselves, and I think they would rather see people who lapse in reining it in die than acknowledge that it's within them, too. Or perhaps living a life that is painful enough to break them into such a horrific shape is unfathomable to them. Either way, one fact remains: people don't want to own up to the fact that literally every single one of us has the capacity to do something similar to what you did, if their life circumstances break them in the way that leads to that kind of terrible, tragic, infuriating, and wholly inexcusable outcome. You're not some especially monstrous thing. You're not a lone goddamn wolf or a rare exception to some general rule or an isolated fucking edge case. And I know it because people in my world make choices similar to yours EVERY SINGLE DAY, even if their means of enacting those choices differ from yours.

The capacity to inflict horror upon other living things is part of the human condition. It is in ALL OF US, whether we want to fucking acknowledge it or not. And all it takes to bring it out is a long enough string of psychologically damaging events in the absence of appropriate support. Cases like yours are NOT random events caused by "inherently bad people"; there's no such fucking thing as "inherently bad people". There are conditions and events that lead to people doing horrific things, and these conditions and events can be found and prevented before they get to that point, if only everyone keeps their eyes open and pays attention! I spend as much time as I can trying to reach those that conventional wisdom says are "unreachable" PRECISELY in service to trying to keep my eyes open and pay attention!

Because horrific events and bad choices are like bacteria - they DO NOT spontaneously generate ("spontaneous generation theory" used to be a thing that people believed about microorganisms a long time ago)! Conditions LEAD TO THEIR GROWTH. And the solution to a person afflicted with bacteria is NOT to kill or demonize them (though this is how they used to be treated; check out most of human history!)! You're supposed to give them antibiotics to REMOVE THE CONDITIONS THAT ALLOW FOR BACTERIAL GROWTH. And the same rules apply to people who make violent choices - you remove the conditions that produce the choices, NOT the person who made them. But goddammit, I am only one person, and… fuck, there are just SO. MANY. STARFISH… stranded on the beach sand…

Also, you know… even as far back as the original game, anyone with half a brain understood that you must have been crying, weeping, sobbing openly during your time at the library. In this version of events, we saw you do that for just a moment before it was choked back and replaced with… something else (I know what this is like; I still have the capacity to cease crying immediately via dissociation; this skill was literally beaten into me, and I imagine it's the same for you). And in my world, it's popular to believe that men should never cry or be vulnerable in any way, shape, or form (this bit of socio-cultural bullshit is actually generational trauma, and it's literally fucking killing people, in the form of internalized or externalized violence), so lots of people here are going to have less empathy for you at least in part because you defied the "cultural norms" of what it means to be a man and a leader (again, this is generational trauma mistaken for culture, and it needs to fucking stop because people are dying over it). And it's so… it's so…

Ugh… Sephiroth, all of the things I know, all the suffering in the world, all the causes of it… it's all swirling around in my head today, and it's heavy. It's so fucking heavy. Watching all the people, every single one of them beautiful and good, doing what they do to themselves and each another, hurting themselves and each other, psychologically or physically maiming themselves and each other, even torturing and killing themselves or each other, all because somehow doing these things feels easier than trying to repair and restore everything… they don't know what they're doing. And there's not… there's not a damn thing I can do about it. I look at the state of things on a large scale. Our dying planet. The endless wars. The marginalized groups of people. The violence and the hate crimes. The genocides. I want to cry and to scream and to throw up all at once.

…But I suppose much of that is neither here nor there. Suppose anyone with "conventional wisdom" would tell me I'm "reading too goddamn much" into a "silly video game", but… given that the media in our world LITERALLY PERPETUATES STEREOTYPES THAT KILL PEOPLE, I gotta say I'm more than a little fucking bitter about that today.

In any case… you - an abused, exploited, and bullied person most of your life - escaped being owned by Shinra (in the clumsiest and most ridiculous and horrible fucking way possible, but still), only to find yet another goddamn chain around your neck. If it's not Jenova controlling you, then it's your trauma and conditioning pulling the strings. Either way you're acting like a goddamn puppet. There, I said it. And as much as I love you, if you don't like that I said it, then too fucking bad; maybe try actually DOING something about it.

Sephiroth. As much as I love you, I am always going to be more than a little pissed about the fact that you squandered your voice so recklessly back then. I'm always going to be more than a little pissed about the fact that you fucking! abused! yourself! for a week! until you broke! WHAT THE FUCK.

If you had simply! Told people! What you had been put through! If you had told them what Shinra was doing! If you had simply opened your freaking mouth to talk about your experiences to a bunch of people who practically worshipped you, you would have eventually had millions of people rallied with you to put an end to Shinra! Sephiroth, for fuck's sake, YOU WERE A GODDAMN GENERAL!! You know how to lead people! And you know how to protect them! Get a goddamn grip!

And I know that the mayor guy acted all entitled to your time while you were exhausted and still grieving for your friends, and it was shitty of him to pass judgment on you when he had no idea what you were going through. But ultimately, it is up to YOU to communicate your needs and feelings, not up to the people around you to anticipate what they are! And I know that the guy took your picture without your permission, and I know they didn't heed when you said "not today". But there is a difference between "having no respect for your word" and "being so excited and happy about your presence that they are unable to contain themselves". It is still up to YOU to maintain your boundaries even if other people don't like it!

Sephiroth! I know that you were struggling! And I know that you spent your whole life being bullied and abused to the point that you felt as though your voice had no power. I know that. I understand that. I am still dragging myself up out of that hole. I know that you were trying to punish evil, and that you saw these people as being complicit in the system that hurt you, your friends, your mother (who I assume you now know is Lucrecia, NOT Jenova), and your planet. I get that you were trying to punch your bullies back in their faces, but you punched the WRONG PEOPLE. And even then: why punch people when you can instead wield your voice!

Sephiroth, despite the harshness of your upbringing and all the other things that make you stand out, you still have privilege! You have status! You have fame! You have power! You have a remarkably able male body! YOU ARE THE KIND OF PERSON THAT PEOPLE LISTEN TO! You have a face that people are willing to see! You have a voice that people are willing to hear! And there is a difference between holding people accountable for being complicit in a system that benefits them, and punishing people for existing in a system (even if that system benefits them) that they did not consent to being born into!

You can't even begin to imagine what I would be willing to give up in order to have a voice like yours, so that I could call for compassion and mercy in ways that would get people to open their eyes and take action in service to putting a stop to all the suffering that exists in this place that I live in.

But no. Instead of being brave and coming out of your shell to use your voice and social power in response to injustice and exploitation, you simply defaulted to your instinctual behaviors. You did the thing you've been trained to do. Like Pavlov's dog, the bell was rung and you drooled everyfuckingwhere. You used your power to cut everything down, instead of using your voice to rally people together for a cause that they ABSOLUTELY would have followed because YOUR face and YOUR voice would have been the one leading it.

Sephiroth. This fucking sucks. What you did to yourself in that library - starving, dehydrating, and sleep depriving yourself and pushing yourself past your limits while you were already strained - fucking sucks. And what you did in the throes of your agony also sucks. Punishing the people around you because your brain was addled and you didn't fucking fact-check what you were reading fucking sucks! And I do understand very well why you did all this; I was abused similarly to you, albeit in a far less extreme way, and thus a long time ago I used to think similarly to the way you did after your fall (I don't think that way anymore because I had help, thank freaking goodness). But IT STILL FUCKING SUCKS. And it was STILL unacceptable. You can't change what you did. But you can make a different choice, moving forward!

Conventional wisdom says that there is no coming back from having fallen, but I am living proof that in this case, "conventional wisdom" is GARBAGE. I would not be sitting here, imploring you to turn your eyes towards a kinder, more compassionate worldview - one that exists in stark defiance of everything I used to believe because of what I was taught as a child - if "conventional wisdom" were true. In addition, I have met other people in the course of my derping around on this broken fucken planet who also serve as proof that anyone, no matter what has happened to them or what they've done in the past, can rise up into making a different choice. And these cases, too, are not "edge" cases. They are not exceptions to a rule. The capacity to heal and grow and change - just like the capacity to hurt and regress and stagnate - is part of the human condition. And this means that anyone can turn around! No! Matter! How! Far! They've! Walked! In! The! Wrong! Direction!!

Goddammit, Sephiroth! Turn yourself around!! Because although I understand what you're trying to do, what you're doing is NOT the way to get it done! What you're doing is BULLSHIT! Maybe you think you're demonstrating your "phenomenal power" or whatever by breaking everything around you, but what you're REALLY doing is yielding to your conditioning like it's got a chain around your neck and a cattle prod in its hand! It's weaksauce! You ALREADY KNOW HOW TO BREAK THINGS. You've spent your whole life being forced to do that even when you didn't want to!

So you gonna, you gonna what? Sit here and claim that you're "the chosen one" or some fucking horseshit, as though you've taken your power back? When really you just took the easy route of doing the same old shit you've always done - bending over and making yourself a slave to someone else's fucked-up agenda, and becoming the very thing you reviled against SO HARD that you burned down an entire fucking village in disgust, despair, and rage? I ain't buyin' it, and neither should you! All you've done is exchanged one codependent relationship for another! And it's getting fucking old! You can do better than blind, subservient obedience to some random fucking space parasite that don't give even two shits about you as much as it cares about your capacity to allow it to resume its life cycle! You've gotta know that even if you really did manage to break everything (you won't, because I fucking promise you that you'll be stopped), as soon as you've served its purpose, it's gonna toss ya like yesterday's trash, if not outright consume you like a female mantis after it's done using its mate like a fucktoy!

The developers said that we've only seen 1% of your power or some shit, but you fucking know what? You could wipe the whole goddamn universe clean. You could extinguish every last star. And STILL some random fucking autistic chick from some random fucking planet in a random fucking solar system in a random fucking galaxy has your ass beat in ALL the ways that count! And that's NOT ACCEPTABLE. I am nothing! I am NO ONE. Sephiroth!! COME ON ALREADY!!

You want strength? Do the work to defy your conditioning. Do the work to love the broken things. Do the work to become someone who does no harm yet takes no shit. Do the work to become someone who can remain soft even in this sharp and unforgiving world. Do the work to get out of your own damn way. Do the work to become someone who can treat yourself like you actually fucking matter. Do the work to get up off your knees and live. DO! THE! WORK! Don't just do the same thing you've always done and claim you've won! Don't act like a pigeon playing chess - shitting all over the board and then struttin' and swaggerin' around like you're some kind of grandmaster! That's NOT how this shit works! You haven't broken free of the pattern! All you've done is changed the hand holding your leash!

You have to stop blindly giving away your power to anyone who claims to love you! You have to stop using your power in service to the conditioning that tried to snatch away who you really are on the inside! They tried to steal away your gentleness! They tried to steal away your emotions! They tried to steal away your ability to cry, your ability to be vulnerable, your ability to be compassionate and loving! Are you just gonna sit here and let them? Are you going to keep pretending like you're cruel and hard-hearted just because a bunch of people who cared nothing for you told you that's how a proper warrior is supposed to be? Are you going to keep on like this, doing the same thing you've always done, just because taking the time to grieve and to make choices that are actually in alignment with your nature are things that feel too difficult for you to do?

…Fucking hell, but some days, clamoring for you to get your shit together feels A LOT like Atreyu trying to pull Artax up out of the swamp:

Come on!!! Turn around!!! You have to, NOW! You have to try!! You have to care!! You can't let the darkness overtake you! You gotta move or you'll die!! Please!! There's still life on the other side of mistakes. There's still life on the other side of despair. There's still life on the other side of rage, of loss, of shattering. It doesn't have to be permanent!

…I won't give up. Even if you leave those of us who care for you sitting and weeping in the middle of the swamp, staring forlornly, or in shock and in disbelief at the place where you sank, I'm not going to quit. I will keep calling out your name in hopes that you'll follow the sound back to the light. Because you're worth the effort. You're worth the pain. You're worth the grief.

I'll leave you with these:

Take the hands outstretched to you and get your ass out of the goddamn swamp. Having a swamp ass is not a good time for ANYONE involved. So please. I…

…I'll write to you tomorrow. Because I love you. In the same way that any person loves their friends. Do everything in your power to keep yourself and your planet and your friends safe. I'm begging you. Please.

Your friend, Lumine

[lalalian]

I always think to myself, "I'm out of ideas... I'm out of actually cool, creative ideas, will I have to shut all my shit down? How am I supposed to continue posting if I've got nothing..." but then, the next second I'll come up with something that genuinely could be a whole ass dr

...

here's a dump of some of the drs I've been wanting to make into filled scripts for awhile now, but I haven't even started designing the scripts for them yet.

Some of them are literally just titles, but idk I just know I can work with it yk?

since I finished some prototyping hw today, I'll put in a little more effort sectioning this post

some of the ideas in question

cloud catcher: steampunk reality based on a cloud city, you've got a job as a cloud catcher, your job is to catch and sell different kinds of clouds, have a cloud shop

inedible edible cafe: inedible things here (in our OR) would be edible in this dr.. Initially I only wanted to include slime as a dish, but now I want to make dishes with different ingredients, like puffy sticker cereal or sum shit

shifting school dr: okay so this actually was a trend on shifttok for a sec, it was called a 'mysterious school' idk why. anyway, this school was supposed to be it's own dr, but I think i may include it in my dreamscape dr

magitech engineer dr: ngl this idea was in the fucking basement of my mind-- ain't nobody gonna wanna shift here besides for someone that actually likes crafting things. idk i just feel like it’s a niche idea

number magic: uh so no, that's not the title for this dr-- I just really wanna make a dr with this kind of system. idk I was just in world lit class and I realized the poem I was reading was repeating the number 5. we were supposed to analyze the poem, but my dumbass just started daydreaming... anyway, next idea

fantasy cosmetic makeup maker dr: so like imagine handmaking make up with like... mermaid pearls or like ground unicorn horns (sourced ethically of course-- unicorns will shed their horns like baby teeth throughout their lifetime. I cannot imagine depriving a unicorn of its horn... imagine doing that... what a psycho😨) you could make like a mermaid line, a sky beauty line, IMAGINE THE PACKAGING. STOP. WAIT. FLOWER KNOWS. AHHH.

guardian flame: I have so little down for this DR lmao 😭😭 essentially like you're some sort of being that's been assigned to protect another, probably someone who isn't as strong as you. the kinda oddball part about your drself in particular is that you have to go to school to train how to be a good protector, but like you've already got a person you need to protect. nobody is assigned to protect anyone until affffftteeerrr graduation, but ur stuck with an idiot

futuristic skater/futuristic biker: self explanatory! I also wanted this to be in a high school setting. this idea stemmed from me just wanting a high school futuristic dr, cuz like yk I was curious about what high school students would need to learn. what would be considered important to learn about? would all students be taught about how to make technology we would find difficult to make today? what about psychology class? what new theories would arise? what would students think about our generation (in our CR) today? would they think we're stupid, crass, or selfish? anyway, initially I just wanted to go to school and walk around... but, I had a dream about living in the future, more abt that in the next idea (this idea is getting long). Instead, I think I wanna deviate a bit from what I would usually do here and in literally every other school dr I have-- I want to experience what it'd be like to be a... deliquient? idk, growing up i kinda just was just that quiet girl that listened to her parents... soooooooo why not do smth different? I'm still not gonna drink or do drugs tho, boooooooo ik so boring 🙄🙄 oh also I was gonna have a group of friends that were also skaters or bikers and compete in definitely legal biker/skater competitions

futuristic entertainment district: anyway more about that dream, essentially everyone was wearing these levitating rocket boots that looked a lot like roller skates (they had those wheels at the bottom of the shoes). the city was like a huge pot hole filled with stores on the side, but like it seemed like parts of the land was broken apart and floating around-- even those had advertisements and people singing and dancing on them. like this pot hole city was filled to the brim with advertisements, shops, stores, entertainment places, literally I remember that there was a huge section of like idol shit. there were a lot of people darting around the place using those levitating boots I was wearing, but there were also futuristic floating cars. imagine cyberpunk but if it was located in a big ass pot hole. yah, that. idk i just wanna explore

dystopian futuristic dr: similar to cyberpunk in the fact that it's a world dominated by companies; I want to join an underground group that wants to overtake the gov and make the world less ass

singles inferno - introvert ver: I actually have all the contestants scripted + designed a script for this DR, but I haven't worked on this script in a whiillleeeee. I wanna be song jia. not literally, but like I want to have her charm, yk? ok so the introvert part-- a lot of the game will take place in a group chat room. you do challenges in-person and in this chatroom to get a date, sometimes it's a random date, but most of the time it's like your choice. very heavily inspired by a game called picka!

a minecraft roleplay dr: I know at least one of yall cringed so hard at this, trust me, I knooowwwww-- but I really want to be like the next aphmau or smth. oh except I don't want to make kid vids, tho I'm sure yall knew that right. I want to recreate aethergarde academy in minecraft (ALSO ALRUNA TOO OMFG) but then I also wanna do other things that aren't dr related. idk I just know that this DR's gonna be sooooo fun. I haven't even decided on a channel name yet 😭😭

...

uh so I prob got more, but these were just the ones that came to mind

I'll prob make a part two when I'm lazy with posting

if anyone wants to use these ideas, please do credit me! if one of yall see someone using my ideas without credit, plz plz tell me, ty!

[verte-vae]

Heyaa

Hope im not too early bcs of different timezone but i couldnt resist abt this 🤣 since today its already 7 january sooo

Happy birthday IJAG! Sans 💙💙 thank you so much for loving us until this far ✨

I've read your fanfic around november and cant believe i would fall for him and still cant move on until now. Those ending that you made was too good -especially the last one- that keep brings me emotional 😂 this makes me love classic sans more instead of IJAG version

Thank you so much for putting your big effort for created him instead of this game 👐🏻 Hope your son likes it too bcs i made it with love hehe

Its Just A Game! Sans belongs to @htsan

For the next slide there is some doodle related with anomaly,

While drawing him that kinda gave me an idea as well of sans can (accidently, somehow??) feel their touch instead of kiss, even theres nobody here besides him only, not in delusional, but as if he's somewhat can feel it about "... is that you?"

I was actually gonna put scene more to make it more dramatic especially drawing the perpecstive but seems like i got no time afdhsgd made these doodle while in rushed

And this was supposed to make this comic as his birthday theme too related with y/n's appearance but i dont know what kind of present would suit him the most, so i can only draw him a pizza related with one of those ending (the kisses was supposed to meant for birthday gift to sans too, but it seems like i had no idea how to make it)

Either way, hope you like it 💖💖

Anomaly once again belongs to @htsan

[alexxncl]

‼️NIGHTBRINGER LESSON 45 SPOILERS‼️

masterlist | all lessons | season 3 | lesson 44 | lesson 45.2 | lesson 46

did i play all the ruri tunes level last night so i could read the entire lesson and make this post at work? yes.

and i'd do it again BOP BOP

HELP 😭 my man was TIRED

i feel like belphie helped put beel to sleep bc he was too invested in his work and not disappointing lucifer to go to sleep on his own. maybe he was too worried and overused his powers, making beel sleep deeper than he normally does and worrying everyone even more on accident

idk i'm just yapping

maybe it's something lilith related? or maybe it is just an all you can eat buffet with mc and the boys. regardless of if he picks something food related or not, it's gonna involve his family, and i love that about him

thinking about this reminds me of the one bonus scene in nb season 1 (not sure which lesson but i think i talked about it) where beel blamed himself for not telling lucifer about the banshee when it happened and, ultimately, for lilith's death

he and lucifer are so similar in terms of how the feel the need to protect their family at all costs, even if it means killing themselves in the process, and i really wish we got more of the two of them together bc i adore their dynamic

ik we all saw that teaser trailer video...what's going on with him ???

is it a result of messing with the timelines one too many times, or the fact that satan was sentenced to become a human instead of a demon when he fell, or something else entirely?

i thought the post was getting too long, more on this here

shhshdhsgs he's such a dad

with the chapter title being "runaway train", i figured smth like this was gonna happen 😭

aside from that, satan hosting the finals is so on brand for him. gotta love my favorite nerd

but also i'd be PISSED if i was hosting and they didn't tell me shit bc what ???

logically speaking, they won't let anything bad happen to three of the seven lords, their pact holderand best friend/partner, and the demon prince's butler, but anyone with a brain would be panicking if the conductor of the train all of a sudden vanished into thin air and nobody on the train knows how to operate it 💀

hm...

HMMM....

this is probably a stretch, but what if those people are the sponsors for this leg of the science fair? what if they actually want the boys dead?

again, this post is already long so i made a separate one 🫠 mb y'all

:((( pookie

the guilt and helplessness he probably feels for not knowing any of the circumstances despite his status as host, maybe even feeling like he was a pawn of the sponsors who came up with the event in the first place

we know he has self-esteem and self-worth issues and this is not only a punch in the gut, but terrifying bc his self-perceived "incompetence" and inability to help because of his lack of knowledge, something that he usually prides himself on, might end up getting the people he's closest to killed

he can't face the guilt, so he ran

he's so ??? 😭

also, since beel and barb are technically on the same team now despite being competitors before, does that mean they each get a wish if the team as a whole wins, or does the team collectively get one wish? bc just giving one of them a wish wouldn't be fair

and i mean TECHNICALLY force is a part of physics

beel big brain

...we've almost died how many times now?

also, since this part is called "beel's wish", imagine his wish is to save us so we don't die (again) lmao

luke is so not funny 😭

but this is honestly really sweet of diavolo. i had a feeling he'd figure out how to incorporate everyone's wish into his own bc even after winning due to mainly his own efforts, he insisted that it was a team effort

talked about the bonus stories here bc there wasn't enough space for screenshots 🥲

[heehappi]

Bite Me

❯ Pairings: Heeseung x fem! reader

❯ Genre: Cakeverse AU (please read A/N if you aren't familiar with this AU), smut, yandere.

❯ Word Count: 3.612

❯ Tags: unprotected sex, suggestive, yandere, praising, stalking, slight possessiveness, and manipulation.

❯ Narrative viewpoint: First-person point of view (for Heeseung) and Second-person point of view (for the sexual part)

❯ A/N: I'm sorry for any inaccuracy in grammar as well as writing style because English isn’t my first language.

❯ A brief of Cakeverse: 

“Cakeverse” is a spin-off of the “Omegaverse”. Similarly to its predecessor, characters in the Cakeverse are divided into three categories: Cakes, Forks, and normal people.

Cake: They are born with delicious fragrances, but they don’t know about it. The only way they find out about their status is through the coincidence of kissing a Fork.

Fork: When reaching a certain age, Forks will lose their sense of taste, only able to feel the taste of Cakes. Fork's basic instinct is eating Cakes, including bones, blood, and meat (NO, TRUST ME I NOT GONNA ADD THEM IN THIS FIC, they sound horrible to me)

The first time I met Y/N, through those innocent eyes, I'd already visualized her figure being pressed aggressively under my body. 

I couldn't help myself from the desire to kiss, bite, and lick every inch of her skin, much as one would suck the fruit filling on a strawberry dessert. I narrowed my eyes at Y/N in the hopes that I hadn’t scared her off. I could smell the fragrance of blood running underneath her skin from this far.  

“You must be sweet like that too, don't you think?”

At that moment, I realized that Y/N had awakened my taste buds. She is my Cake, and this is a fate that none of us can escape.

The first strategy in hunting is gently approaching the prey.

For several days, I observed the small bar where Y/N was singing. She initially went there with her buddies, but after a while, she went herself. She looked abstracted that day, seemed to think about someone, revealed a hint of sadness, and even though it only lasted for a moment, I still clenched my jaw in a fit of jealousy. She should have been on my bed, sobbing uncontrollably until her eyes turned red. I would have applied something like cream on her lower abdomen and licked it off slowly.

Y/N is the most expensive and high-grade Cake in the world, yet nobody can taste her sweetness.

“But that’s not bad at all. Thanks to that, I have more time to put you in my pocket.”

The second strategy in hunting is deceiving, pretending to be pure and innocent to gain the trust of prey.

Y/N was surrounded by a lot of low-level Forks who are so despicable. She only realized that she was a Cake when those bastards couldn’t control their fangs and the repulsive desire in their eyes. She was always sluggish, and it was too late to flee.

When those inferiors were getting closer to her, I kicked them hard from behind. Even though I wanted to delay this fight a little bit, I couldn't bear to witness their dirty hands ruin my dessert. 

I pulled Y/N in my arms tightly. Her eyes were wide with panic, her knuckles became white as she grasped my shoulder to calm her rushing heart.

The distance was so close. I hoped that she wasn’t aware of the sound I made as I gulped saliva. I made an effort to control myself, but her body and soul were so fragrant that they kept triggering my hunger.

A half-deaf Fork rushed over with an empty glass bottle in his hand. I turned around so that he could hit me. As I had hoped for, Y/N witnessed that scenario. She was terror-stricken, looking at me with unbelievable eyes.

My plan was half successful.

The worst disappointment was that Fork's dirty hands had touched my sweet little Cake. I broke his hands and watched him trembling uncontrollably on the ground like a loser. I covered Y/N’s eyes, my palms were wet with her tears. She touched my injured forehead out of worry. She probably didn’t know how fragile she looked at that time: a blush of shyness crept up her face, and her eyes were blurred with tears. She looked like a ripe cherry waiting to be picked. I wanted to bite her lips, but my vision was becoming blurry…

“It’s all right, this is just the beginning.”

After being discharged from the hospital, Y/N accompanied me home. I told her a lie about being homeless. My band and I used to have a good time, but I eventually fell on hard times. My innocent little Cake was always easy to be fooled. All I had to do was stare at her with my bambi eyes. She looked awkward but still soft-hearted at the end. I couldn’t look at her for too long because doing so would arouse my hunger.

The third strategy in hunting is penetrating her life step by step.

Because I had spent a few days with Y/N, I was somewhat aware of the reasons for her earlier unfocused attitude in the bar. She had previously lived with her colleagues, one girl, and one boy. Then there had been some conflicts, so she moved out. I was quite curious about the circumstances, so I looked through a photo album in Y/N's big suitcase. The relationship between her and her ex-roommates seemed so good. Actually, too nice that it was a bit abnormal. Y/N looked at the boy with a sparkle in her eyes.

Perhaps Y/N had been in love with him, but they had cut off contact due to some reason, so her mood was extremely terrible. But in my point of view, it was fate. That’s why I was here, in her house.

I started to live with Y/N. Every morning, I woke up and waited for her to make breakfast for me. Although I had lost my sense of taste, I could feel a little craving when glancing at Y/N, then tried to swallow food. She didn’t know much about cooking, perhaps just begun to learn so she could take care of me. Like a fledgling waiting to be fed, I waited for her to finish her work and go back home every day.

Y/N uncarefully cut her hands while slicing meat. I put her finger in my mouth, her blood tasted sweet, like syrup. I innocently glanced at Y/N. She assumed I was worried about her. She moved her hand backward and comforted me by saying that it didn’t hurt.

When we went to the supermarket, I liked to buy things in pairs such as house slippers, toothbrushes, cups, and even bowls. Y/N clenched her fists and hit my chest as she stared at the long receipt. The last time she had such an upset expression was when I had eaten all the flavors of ice cream in her refrigerator. I liked to tease her and relished her kitten-like anger. I assured her that I would pay her money every month.

I developed a close bond with Y/N that was apart from our Fork-Cake connection. She progressively became open to sharing some stories of her life, how she had experienced loss, how her confidence had faded away, and how her unrequited love had not been returned. I coaxed her by complimenting her unconditionally every time she writes songs for me.

I made up some fairy stories and told Y/N before bedtime every night. She had worked during the day, then she quit her job at the bar to take care of me. People who were too lonely usually don’t have a peaceful night, and my Y/N consistently had trouble sleeping. Every time I completed a fairy tale, she would beg me for more. But I always said that the best would be reserved for later. I was aware that she didn't particularly want to hear those stories. 

Y/N simply did not want to sleep alone.

The fourth strategy in hunting is attacking and grabbing the chance to swallow prey.

When I thought the time was ripe, I feigned to be ill. A slight concussion, according to the doctor, led to vomiting and an appetite loss. Thanks to that dirty Fork with his glass bottle.

I didn’t eat anything. Y/N tried to come up with new foods for me to eat more. She attempted to study a new recipe and used her meager monthly wage to buy cooking supplies.

No more fairy tales at night. I wrapped myself in the blanket and pretended to be extremely exhausted. In spite of the fact that I didn’t eat much during that month and lost a lot of weight, my desire for Y/N outweighed my bodily hunger.

Y/N made a bowl of egg soup, which she had just learned when getting home from work. She ruined numerous eggs before encouraging me to eat by patting my back, like coaxing a child.

- Hee, please eat something.

I didn't take her spoon. Instead, I pulled her closer and gave her my passionate-bambi gaze until she blushed. My little sweet Cake has innocent eyes but at that moment, I just wanted to see them in tears, seeing that she couldn’t help but wrap her legs around my waist. I wanted to devour her.

I was dying of hunger.

I tentatively pressed my lips on hers. Y/N didn’t shy away, then I knew I could start tasting my Cake.

I had waited far too long for this day. When I caught her on the first day, my heart raced faster uncontrollably. My palm was so cold. When I touched her, she trembled slightly like a young bird that had just been wet, and I was her only wind-avoiding nest.

My lips parted from hers. I could hear the sound of her heavy breath, the sound of her blood streaming rapidly. I kissed her forehead softly. That was my devotion to the prey. Those eyes came next. Her eyelashes were shaking. Y/N's eyelids were so thin that I could see the tiny blood vessels beating slightly beneath them. She was too white. Even when Y/N wasn’t shy, her nose tip and eye corners remained rosy.

I believed that a high-grade Cake had to have a gorgeous outlook. It couldn't just be a smooth cream surface; it also needed some decorative strawberries. And Y/N had all of those characteristics. 

Heeseung guided you to sit on his lap, locking your arms around his neck. His hands on your hips eagerly pushed your heat down against his erection, hoping that you would notice his half-hard boner pressing your core. His hands found the hem of your nightgown and slowly took it off. You were too nervous to open your eyes. Heeseung lifted your head by your chin and mildly bit your cheek. He said that it was fluffy like soufflé.

- Naughty girl with no bra huh?

His hands squeezed your boobs, leaving kisses alongside your jaw. He kissed down your neck to your collarbone, pinching and rolling his thumb over your hardened nipple. He took one boob in his hand, rubbing it. His tongue twirled around the bud before sucking your nipple while his other hand rubbed your thigh, slowly reaching your intimate area. 

You moaned like a mess, feeling the sensation build up inside your stomach.

- So fucking cute, moaning like this just because I suck your boobs.

Heeseung blew hot breath on your tits after abusing them. He kissed the area of the underboob, leaving strings of his saliva all over your flesh. Your tits were shiny like being sprinkled with sour cherry Brandy wine. You ran your hands through his hair as he pressed his head more on your chest, inhaling the smell of shower gel that he bought for you. His hand abandoned your ass and started running his thumb around your nipple.

- T..that f..feels good, Hee. 

He smiled.

- Yeah? If you consent to me, I can make you feel even better.

Heeseung looked up and saw the unshed tears glistening in the corners of your eyes. He squeezed your waist to stop your non-stop trembling body. 

- Baby, it will be ok...

- I-I allow you…

Heeseung couldn’t help but grinded his hard cock against your core. He reassured you as he pulled you into a slow kiss, and let you lay down in bed. Your belly must be the most delicate area since there are hundreds of butterflies fluttering inside. Once his lips pressed on it, they seemed to fly out. Heeseung gripped your waist as his teeth pulled your underwear down.

He suddenly remembered the milk pudding he had eaten in childhood. When unwrapping the plastic package, the soft pudding exposed to the air, even bounced up to the amplitude of movement, left memorable ripples. He squeezed your butt cheek and watched the tiny moan coming out of your lips. 

- I'll be gentle. Once you feel uncomfortable, I will stop immediately. 

His fingers traced over your clit, middle and index fingers spreading your pussy lips apart. Heeseung pushed two fingers into you slowly and scissored them to stretch you out. You started clenching around his fingers. It drove him mad with lust when feeling your velvet walls tighten. He had no intention of stopping, added a third finger, and began moving faster, his thumb reaching up to your clit, not until you were begging him.

- P-please, Hee. Please I want more….

Heeseung thought it was really cute whenever he teased you. Maybe he would edge you until you were sobbing and then make you get off with your own fingers. But not now, not this damn moment. 

The sound of him pulling down the zipper of his jeans was loud enough that sent a shiver down your spine. It was nothing, though, to compare with the groan he made as he stroked his cock outside his boxer. You held your breath as you strained to hear him. Heeseung pulled his cock out of his confinement, his cock throbbing against his stomach. He wrapped his fingers around his erection, spreading beads of precum on himself. 

- Wanna feel it? 

He guides your hand down to touch it. You grabbed a hold of his dick, stroking slightly. Only God knew how desperate he was to see this scene. 

- Do you want me to use a condom or not? 

You bit your lip and debated for a minute whether to answer truthfully.

- No, I want to feel you.

- Shit Y/N, you have no idea how much I want to bury my cock inside you, stretch every single inch of you until you writhe under me, beg me to stop.

It was your turn to breathe out weakly, back arching off the bed to reach his dick, wondering if he could feel how wet he was making you.

- I want that as much as you do, Hee.

You lifted your gaze to meet his. His eyes were dark and glazed over with both lust and frustration. Heeseung smirked and raised an eyebrow upward as he guided your legs wrapping around him, heels digging into his lower back to facilitate his penetration. He rubbed the tip of his cock up and down over your sopping fold.

- Let’s carve the safe word in your head baby. Chocolate.

Chocolate because there is no more Vanilla.

You nodded, and closed your eyes, waiting for the delicious stretch of his dick pushing into you. Heeseung dragged his cock along your fold and lubricated it with your wetness and his precum before slowly plugging his length down your hole until he bottomed up, making the two of you sigh in relief. A deep groan escaped his lips as he adjusts to the feeling of your hot, wet cunt around him. 

- Fuck, baby. Like fucking made for me.

You gasped and tossed your head back, your hand covered your mouth and your eyes rolled back. Heeseung left sloppy wet kisses on your neck to ease your pain. It took a while for you to adjust his big size. You guys stayed in the position, just feeling each other.

- Hee, you can move now.

He nodded and started to fuck you slowly, before eventually hitting your walls at a perfect angle with an unforgiving pace that has you seeing stars. Your hands ran over his torso, scratching his back deliciously that got him hissed, obviously leaving marks on it. Your back arched high from the mattress, your voice reached that high pitched while Heeseung kept thrusting into you constantly. Your room echoed with the sounds of skin slapping against skin. Heeseung moved his hand to your belly, feeling the small bulge he made every time his dick was buried inside you. The stimulation was becoming too much, something in your stomach slowly tightening. 

- Heeseung!

His name ripped from your throat when he led one hand down to roll your clit in circular figures.

- I.. I’m about to… to cum.

He sped up and kissed your cheek. 

- Go ahead babe, cum for me. 

You came with a string of moan mess, painting his length with your juice, some getting on his base, some dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. Heeseung was in awe as he watched milky white rings around his cock. He stopped for a second for you to catch your breath.

- Will you cum in me too?

Heeseung cussed under his breath. The way you sounded so innocent while spilling those lascivious words. He panted against your lips.

- You're gonna kill me Y/N. You’re so hot.

- Say it to yourself.

You kiss him one more time before bucking your hip upwards. He chuckled at your flirtatiousness. 

- Yea- gonna put our kids in you. 

Heeseung sank further, cockhead burying itself deep into your cunt with every snap of his hips. He grabbed your jaw to force your gaze onto him.

- You take me so well, so fucking tight for me. Look at my eyes when taking my fat cock, love.

Heeseung angled his hips higher so his tip aggressively reached the right spot that made you see stars. He thrusted hard for the last time before he spurted his white and warm load of seeds inside you. His head falls forward and he takes the opportunity to plant sweet kisses all over your face and cheek. He leaned into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

And at that fucking moment, Heeseung started to lose control over his desire of eating you, like a Fork want to devour his Cake. Finally, his sharp fang coming out wanted to pierce through your seductive neck.

Suddenly, a dagger was placed against his chest. Heeseung gave you a shocked expression. Both of you had not yet fully recovered from the intense orgasm. Your eyes were crimson in the corners, fierce yet also attractive. You spoke to him in a shaky voice that was full of hatred.

- You are a Fork too. You wanted to eat me.

This statement wasn’t a question. You indulged him repeatedly despite the fact that you were quite certain of his motivations and had known it for a very long time.

“No wonder you are my little Cake, Y/N”

Heeseung grinned at you and kissed your hair and eyelashes gently. He grabbed your hand and positioned it an inch to the left, where his heart was there.

- Here, love. Stab here to kill me. Kill me and no one will tell fairy tales to you tomorrow night.

The last step in hunting is a retreat for a longer-lasting relationship with prey.

Y/N's dagger fell to the bed. She covered his eyes and whimpered. In fact, Y/N has been in love with me for a very long time. When I gradually entered her life, she became accustomed to seeing the lights in the house while coming back from work, and paying for the long receipt in the supermarket's checkout,...  In her perception, her house now became warm with a full smell of cooked food, rather than an empty room and midnight takeout.

I replaced the photos of Y/N and her ex-roommate with our photos. 

Y/N started composing songs with happy tunes. When she played piano, they sounded like soft lullabies. I learned those tunes by heart, humming them while I brushed my teeth next to her in the morning. Y/N turned her head excitedly and asked me how I remembered it with a mouth full of toothpaste foam. I said that I could recall all the songs written by her. 

Y/N also no longer took sleep pills. She hid a variety of psychiatric medications under the bed, including red and white tablets that I have no idea what they taste like but must not be delicious. If I had a chance, I would have surreptitiously replaced them with colorful candies. Y/N looked forward to my stories every night because I would lean close to her and pat her back. As long as I was beside her, Y/N could sleep peacefully.

Y/N couldn’t accept my leaving. She would gladly offer me her heart if I asked to devour her. There was a lack of love and safety in her. People were a little friendly to Y/N, she was willing to offer them all of her love and kindness.

Y/N held my face and kissed my lips while pleading with me not to leave her. She was still in tears. Y/N twisted around, shoved me down, and raised her white wrists to my mouth.

- Lee Heeseung, bite me. You can devour me, just please don't go. Don't leave me.

My plan of letting my Cake bring herself to me was achieved. I bit her collarbone and tasted the bleeding skin where my teeth had left their marks before biting somewhere else. My tongue stirred in her mouth, playing with her tongue…

Little tooth marks were highlighted on her white boobs, yet Y/N still insisted on hugging me.

I thought that I would devour Y/N because she was really seductive that challenged my ultimate limit time after time.

But I wouldn't have survived if I had eaten Y/N. We had managed to achieve a symbiotic connection in some way.

Y/N had already fallen asleep. She continued to sob in her dream while encircling my neck with her arms. That pose was very uncomfortable to sleep in. I took her arm, embraced her in my arms, and kissed her forehead.

Good night.

My little Cake.

I will be very thankful to read your feedback so plz don't hesitate to leave it in comment or in anonymous box keke

[collidescopeeyes]

I love your recent swain hc! Can u pls write modern swain who would always receive handwritten notes thats always attached on his lunchbox from reader, but if reader is upset or mad at him there would be no notes or his lunchbox's food is just a plain bread

This is so fucking funny asdlkjskh

Modern!Swain misses his handmade lunches after a fight

- Swain always looks forward to your lunches, they're a highlight to his day. Not only are you a fantastic cook, but it's a little reminder that you care in the middle of what's usually a busy and high-stress day. He keeps every single note in a little box in the bottom of his desk, and if he ever needs a pick-me-up to get him through the day he reads a few at random.

- You don't fight often, but the absence of your little notes stings worse than anything you say in the heat of the moment. If he gets a lunch with no note he's spending the rest of the work day trying to figure out how to make it up to you.

- This time though, he fucked up. He's been busier than usual lately and you got into an argument about his awful work-life balance; you mentioned that it felt like he wasn't putting in much effort and he said maybe you should be putting in less effort. Instant regret but the damage was done, you storm off and he resigns himself to the doghouse. Still, his lunchbox is still on the counter when he wakes up (it's an expensive couch but it ain't built for sleeping on), so maybe you're not that mad at him? Still, he resolves to apologize as soon as you're ready to talk.

- Lowkey he's dreading lunch all work day. The upside is he gets plenty of work done; no one's dares to bother him considering the aura of death he's radiating. Rumors start circulating about who's gonna get fired but Darius tells them not to worry, he's just sulking cuz his wife's mad at him. That starts a whole other round of rumors–you’re so nice, wtf did he do to get you mad at him??

- How does Darius know this? Well. You ran into him in line at the coffee shop you both frequent and you ended up venting to him–it's obvious you're upset and he's a surprisingly good listener. You walk away feeling better and resolve to talk to Swain once he gets home–you were maybe being a bit petty with the lunch thing and you’re sure he'll apologize and you’ll work things out together if you give him a chance. Oh, but if Darius didn't have lunch for today already, did he want this? You prep everything the night before since Swain leaves so early, but you hate wasting food so you just took it with you. It's the least you could give him for hearing you out, plus it saves you trying to eat two lunches today.

- He accepts, obviously, partially cuz you're a great cook and partially cuz he doesn't want to turn you down. On his way into work though it occurs to him, if you're giving him Swain's lunch then wtf does Swain have? He has to know.

- Swain's pretty punctual, so Darius just shows up to his office at lunch time–he has some actual business matters he needs to talk to him about anyway, co-owner to co-owner. Definitely not because this is the most entertaining thing Darius has seen since Swain was stressing out over you introducing him to your parents. Nope. Swain actually welcomes the distraction at first–Darius rarely has lunch with him so it must be important.

- Picture this. Swain, opening his lunch box to a single slice of white bread. Unbuttered. He stares. He looks up. Darius, shit eating grin, unpacking his lunch. And Swain knows that's his fucking lunch, that's all the stuff you had in the kitchen and your cooking and Darius doesn't even like cheese.

- You know that meme where one kid gets the cute bear cutout bread and the other one gets crust with a bear shaped hole in the middle? Yeah.

- Neither of them says a word. You could cut the silence with a knife. Swain gets up and leaves without another word. He's taking a half-day and nobody dares stop him. Actually no, he's taking a long weekend, Darius can manage without him and if he can't, that's his personal problem. He's got a heartfelt apology to make.

- (He does in fact apologize, you sort it out and you go on a nice weekend trip together. Darius will insist this was part of his plan. Honestly the company couldn't handle it if you two fought for much longer, and employees everywhere offer up a thanks to your benevolence–being around Swain when he's in a bad mood is stressful.)

[luckycharming]

Not trying to be messy or bitchy on main, but why don't y'all review fanfics anymore? Why don't y'all comment on the stories y'all have read and liked? Like, deadass, as a writer/creator myself, if I slave away and put my whole ass pussy into creating and crafting these really good stories, and nobody reviews them, what's my incentive to keep creating?

And I've heard it be said thousands of times that you should do it for fun! You should do it because blah blah blah! And I get it! I really! It's not good to create solely because of x, y, and z and that's valid, but! I'm also doing this shit for free. Like, fanfic authors bust their asses writing for free. This is a free consumption, and I'm just saying, if you like or love the stories written, why can't y'all let it be known? Why can't y'all comment and review it? It literally doesn't take even a third of the effort it took the writers themselves to write the damn shit.

I remember when I first got into fanfiction and I was in awe, okay? There were so many wonderful stories and authors and you bet your right testicle I made sure I left reviews. Hell, I would even PM them and let them know that hey, I really loved that fic you wrote! This is what it meant to me and thank you so much for not only writing it, but being brave enough to share it with the world because regardless of the ship/fandom/etc., that takes guts!

And y'all won't even do the bare minimum. And then have the nerve to wonder why the quality of writing is shit or why people are leaving the fandom spaces. It makes no sense that stories that are so horribly written and out of character have hundreds, if not thousands of reviews, but the actual good shit barely has fifty, and that's me being generous.

I'm just tired of putting all this effort into shit that I'm not getting anything back from because it's not enough to love what you do. Like, why is it bad that I want people to leave long or nice comments on my work? Why is that me being greedy to want some positive engagement on my content? Or unless I write for popular ships, people won't read my shit? Which isn't bad, because if I like a ship, regardless of if it's popular or canon or so on and so forth, I'm gonna ship it, but still.

And not even that's a guarantee that people will read it, and I don't like don't gimmicky shit. I don't like feeling like I have to dim the quality of my work to get people to fuck with my shit, and it's not me being insecure in my writing because I'm a damn good writer. I know what I bring to the fucking table, but how are we supposed to keep the fandom spaces alive if nobody's engaging with shit anymore?