#you know i hate to bring gender politics into it but like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hazelfoureyes · 2 months

Note

for your consideration:

a reader who’s genuinely more powerful than Alastor is. maybe they’re royalty or another overlord or maybe they simply just have a more commanding presence than him, but in any way, he hates it. he goes out of his way to try to one-up them (much like how he did with Lucifer), but the reader never falters, ever-calm and ever-in control. it infuriates Alastor to no end— not only because of the simple fact that he isn’t the strongest person in the room anymore, but also because the reader never treats him like he’s lesser than them. they treat him like an equal, and it makes him even angrier.

when they fuck for the first time, it’s a last-ditch attempt for Alastor to regain control— and it fails, because even though Alastor is on top with his nails digging into the reader’s skin, doing his very best to cause the pain he knows he can cause, the reader still just stares up at him, taking it like they always do. no tears fall from their eyes, no pleads fall from their lips. Alastor is dissatisfied— very much so. so they do it again. and again. and again, until it’s something of a game between them. until one day, the reader’s composure finally shatters.

they’ve had enough of Alastor’s attitude and disrespect, and they tell him as much. they pin him down, snarling about his god complex and his twisted sadism and how long they’ve been waiting to put him in his place. and Alastor finds that no matter how much he struggles, he can’t get that control that had been so rudely snatched from him back. but the thing is— a part of him likes it. really, really likes it— that loss of power that should be his and his alone, being held just out of his petulant reach. it brings him a sick feeling that he’s never felt before and can’t get enough of.

that part grows and grows until he’s the one crying and begging and squirming weakly underneath the reader, both his smile and his mind threatening to break as the reader fucks him relentlessly. no matter how many times either of them cums, the reader doesn’t stop, not until Alastor is screaming his apologies, over and over and over again. he hates it. he loves it.

when it’s all over, and when the reader has settled, Alastor makes them promise that they will never speak of this again. without a hint of smugness, the reader agrees— but maybe the next time Alastor is acting up, the reader will only have to give him a look. and he will know.

I know this wasn’t a prompt necessarily but don’t think you can come into MY HOUSE and lay a feast in front of me and not expect I’d dig in 👏 face 👏 first 👏 so here’s me just kinda riffing off your DELICIOUSLY WRITTEN MESSAGE. NO TIME TO EDIT A CUTE REPLY IMAGE

Wrapped around Your Finger (Ace Alastor bottoms for a GN!Seraphim Reader short smut)

Warnings/Promises: 🗣️ ALASTOR GETS FINGERED, Gender Neutral Reader x Alastor smut, hate fucking, bondage, initial dubcon, Ace Alastor, scratching, kinda degradation kink, Angel Reader, Reader is a good friend, Protect Angel Dust at all costs

minors dni

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ When Lucifer introduced a defected Seraphim to the hotel, Alastor’s smile dropped. You had feet yet to him you seemed to glide through the hotel halls effortlessly. You were impeccably dressed, ever polite, well mannered, clean. It was driving him mad. Yes, Alastor knew the importance of being well groomed. He exalted manners and gentility. He disliked grime and thought a lack of personal hygiene was an actual sin. But the sight of you, every fucking day with that ever present soft smile on your lips? Your gaze, always gentle as you listened to sinners explain their dreams of redemption. Nails on a chalkboard. Every room you were in, all eyes turned to you. It was if the air itself was pulled into your charms.

Every one in the hotel either feared Alastor or, at least, failed to hide their annoyance when He’d sneak up on them or touch them without warning. Of course, not you. Alastor shocked himself with his antics in attempt to make you react to him at all. Charlie would pull him aside weekly, asking what the actual fuck? “Why did you say that? They know they aren’t from here, we all know that, but telling them they are most unnatural creature to ever exist in Hell? And I don’t think it was an accident you knocked their drink over. Al, you are being a bully.” Yes, and he was sorry. Sorry he was so ineffective. Not even a fucking knitted brow so much as flashed at him when he spilled your drink down your chest. You smiled, you had the audacity to smile at him and say, “Whoops. Your monocle isn’t prescription, huh?” He only had one option left to push you beneath him—-rip you to pieces. Any thing to get you to look at him differently than all the other weak souls mulling about in hell.

Alastor had seen you fight, when an overlord came to the hotel to taste seraphim blood, all of the Pride Ring saw your power. Arms out stretched, a glow came from your palms, yellow and bright. With the speed of someone enjoying a breakfast on the patio on a Sunday in hell, you knelt down and pressed your palms into the ground. A flash of light and power rung out from you and blinded everyone watching, but Alastor could see you as he melted into the deepest shadows your light created. White and gold glowing shards erupted from the dirt, fracturing the grounds of the hotel lawn as they formed a jagged but intelligent line straight for the demon. The overlord barely recovered from the blinding effect of your power before a glass-like piece shot from the ground and straight through his chest. It was over in seconds, and you had never dropped your soft grin.

He was prideful, but not stupid. A test, a little experiment first. When you watched sweetly from the sidelines and Charlie directed yet another meaningless activity, Alastor stood opposite you. Your eyes flitted from person to person, your smile small but genuine. Were you glowing? He had had enough. He reached his shadow appendages out and wrapped one around your ankle, as it gripped and prepared to drag you to the floor in what he hoped would be an embarrassing display, nothing happened. As the tentacle touched you, it dissipated. Your light entirely erasing the shadow.

He felt his mind breaking. Every night he paced, feeling your overwhelming presence in the hotel even at such a distance. He decided to try the one thing he’d never tried. Atleast, not since coming to hell. You were always so accommodating, maybe to a fault? He found you in kitchen, alone, making yourself some sickeningly sweet drink. Your body froze when Alastor pressed against you from behind. But, you didn’t make a sound. “Apologies, I don’t think I can suffer any longer.” He ground his hips into your ass, “I never do this, a gentleman through and through. But you see, as a deer demon, sometimes there are periods of—- unbearable discomfort. I can’t focus on redemption like this.”

Alastor was shocked when you swiveled around, eyes closed from your smile, and said, “I came here to help. What can I do?”

He couldn’t understand it. Bent over the counter in the common area, his nails cutting lines down your sides that healed with a frustrating speed, you just sighed into him. Little moans, soft exhales. He slammed your hips against him, the sound ringing through the kitchen. But still, your eyes were closed but not clenched. Your sounds small and even. The only thing keeping him hard was your hand, reached back and digging nails into his thighs. The tiniest hint of your true feelings. He’d bury his mind where your hand tore his skin and find release. Happy to see you at least a little less perfectly assembled after.

Alastor would find you at the most inconvenient times, in the most public settings, and find some excuse to need to fuck you. At one point a sinner even walked in on you two, and to Alastor’s palpable dismay, you apologized to the sinner for blocking the ice machine.

Your resolve finally snapped, however, when Alastor stepped past a line he didn’t know you had. Alastor had you, uncharacteristically, in your bed. He always spoke during sex but now, now it was genuinely grating you. “You’re such a whore, coming to Hell just to eat demon cock. If you drowned in cum you’d probably respawn as an even bigger slut than Angel Dust.” You sat up, one hand on his chest and the other under his armpit, and flipped him onto his back. Alastor’s arm moved to push back, but he found both wrists held down to the bed with a signature glow.

“If you knew Angel half as well as you pretended, you’d know how fucking stupid you sound.” Your hands gathered his cum from earlier that evening, slowly dripping out of you with the sudden change in position. “He’s the whore? Who stalks this hotel, hungry for any ounce of attention? A petulant child willing to embarrass others just so teacher notices them?” Your hand began to pump his cock. Alastor thrashed, he hated people handling his dick, but that was overshadowed by his disgust of having his semen spread over his skin. The sensation made his skin crawl and he would have gone soft but when he met your gaze he only grew harder in your fist. Your eyes were alight, figuratively and literally. The rage on your face made his smile drop entirely. You looked like you hated him. “If he is a whore, then you are Mary Magdalene. I’ll wash your feet for you, sinner.” You used your knees to spread open his untethered legs.

“I know you, Alastor,” the fingers of your other hand slicked through the lathered cum dripping down his ass and began to massage at his hole. “Your greatest sin wasn’t murder. It was pride. Never could let anyone see the famous Radio star with even a hair out of place. You’d drop your morals for even a taste of an improved social image. Even in death, you abuse and hound others who dare to make you feel less than how you demand you look from the outside.” He wanted to say anything, argue, roar, but his jaw was locked in place. Your eyes never left his, and soon his vision was darkening around your luminescent stare. A finger slipped into him, slowly but with resistance.

“Tell me to stop.” Your hand slowed to let his muscles relax around your digit before picking up speed again, curving your palm over his head with every pull upward, “Tell me to stop and I will. I’ll go right back to who I always am, and always will be. I’ll smile at you every morning and move out of your way with a nod in the halls. Say ‘stop’.” Your words were threats, not idle or hollow and it made Alastor’s thighs twitch. Go back? Return to looking at him like you truly wanted the best for him despite how dirty his hands were? Soft eyes threatening to make him melt into a lesser, weaker man?

You were in him to the knuckle, finger prodding and twirling.

His eyes were wide but focused on you. Alastor thought his soul would evaporate, your face a sneer he’d never been so lucky to even imagine before now. He could feel you around him, in him.

A tiny, halted, “S-,” was forced through his teeth.

Stop?

Slower?

He shook his head, eyes fluttering closed.

“God, you’re pathetic. What about a sorry? Can you manage a single apology for your comments tonight? I’ll let you roll me back into the mattress, for a sincere ‘sorry’.” Alastor's knees hitched, his head fell back, and he came over your knuckles with a pained groan. But you didn’t stop. You’d get your reply, eventually.

Alastor gave a threat of his own when you finally got your apology, half screamed through his third orgasm, and let him flee your bed. You nodded and agreed, yes yes, this never happened blah blah yet another example of your enormous pride.

After that night, any time Alastor wanted to yank on Husk’s chains, or double speak someone into a deal, he’d pause and look around. Expecting your two golden lit eyes to be staring, ready to flip him onto his back and drag several more apologies from him.

༻Masterlist༺

1K notes · View notes

shooting-love-arrows · 5 months

Text

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐀𝐍

SYNOPSIS: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 tries to be a better man but others seemed to be testing his limits. PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 x Reader (gender isn't impiled/mentioned/specified) Tw. blood, description of wounds, violence, cussing, smoking, possesive behaviour, reader is called darling

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

"I hate bastards like you." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 breathed out under his nose and despite being physically active for the past hours. He turned around on the squeaking, old chair he was occupying and calmly took out his silver and amber cigarette case from one of his coat’s pockets which was hanging from the back of the furniture. Now with his possessions at hand, he returned to his previous position. "Ya want one?"

The man messily sprawled on a wooden floor could only whine pathetically like a little baby.

"Alright." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 shrugged, taking the whine as ‘no’. Without any care in the world, he himself took one of the cigarettes from the rectangle case. He furrowed his thick eyebrows as he lit it up using his trusty lighter. "Like I've said...where was I?"

Silence fell on the dingy room like a thick blanket, choking everyone with its density, except the one who caused it in the first place.

"Ah! Right!" 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 facepalmed, shaking his head in disbelief that he forgot what he was talking about in the first place. "I absolutely HATE bastards like you."

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 leaned down, his fitting shirt accenting his lean and tense body, to tightly grasp his victim's hair in his iron grip and harshly brought the idiot up to be face to face with him. The man screamed painfully, choking on his blood that kept pouring from his mouth and nose. One of his eyes began to turn black and was tightly shut from how puffy it had become. The rest of his body wasn’t in any better shape.

"The ones that lure in a place where they don't belong. The ones who believe they have a chance with someone who is clearly taken. But most importantly, the ones who dare to ignore me."

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 continued his speech like he wasn’t talking to a man beaten half to death. He deeply breathed in his cigarette and after holding it in for a few seconds, he blew toxic smoke right in this man's face, watching with satisfaction him fall into a coughing fit. The victim winced and began to cry, mainly because of his broken ribs. "I was so generous and took my precious time to politely inform you to stay away from my darlin'. I remeber explicitly advising you to search for a good fuck somewhere else. Right?"

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 harshly patted the bruised and bloody cheek of the said man after noticing him falling unconscious. The man gasped and cried harder, weakly nodding.

"Right! And what did you do?" 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 took a deep breath from his cigarette, gritting his teeth in rage. "Like a swine decided you know better than me and went for it! You...you fucking bastard..." He began panting and letting this powerful emotion take control over his whole being. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 couldn’t help but begin to laugh like he heard the best joke. It sounded so houting, echoing in the small room which the victim occupied on a daily basis.

"You bastard fucked with a wrong darlin'." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 summed it up and took a deep breath to calm himself down. Then he took another deep inhale of his cigarette, before taking it out of his mouth since it was almost burnt out completely. He flexed his aching jaw and gripped the man's hair tighter, satisfied to be hearing his high pitched whine. "MY darlin'."

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 didn’t hesitate to bring the still burning cigarette to the man's forehead and put it out there. The man screamed but didn't trashed much. He didn't have any strength in him to do so anymore.

"And I won’t tolerate it."

And he didn't.

“What happened to your hands?” You asked the very next day and carefully took them in yours. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 basked in your attention, especially loving skin to skin contact initiated by you.

“Ah, it’s nothin’, really.” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 laughed it off and took this chance to burn the image of your concerned face in his memory. You looked so adorable. So gullible…

“You don’t need to worry your pretty head over this, darlin’.”

“But – !”

“Ah!” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 tutted, cutting you off and moved his aching and bruised hands to take yours instead. He squeezed them affectionately, looking lovingly into your eyes. “How about we go to buy that clothes we saw yesterday? You looked so darling in them!”

All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.

2K notes · View notes

nightdiary · 2 months

Text

first dates with enhypen

word count: 5.4k genre: fluff, gender neutral reader, suggestive bits in jake's and hoon's but nothing too crazy imo author's note: been wanting to write more for enha so this was born... i am down bad for all of them i fear ): also it was almost too easy to get carried away in some spots but i didn't! i'm thinking of making more specific and individual bf posts for each of the members... saving my juicier ideas for then 🤍 as always, feedback is appreciated greatly<3!!!

✧ heeseung - tinder date

you have a routine with all of your tinder dates. after three months on the app, you’d learned how to cycle through the guys quick enough so as not to waste a minute on someone who you didn’t see fitting into your life.

there are three stages to the cycle: one, they had to pass the initial profile check. simple enough, and yet most failed right at the beginning. half-naked photo holding a fish? swipe left. in a douche-baggy frat you’d never heard of? swipe left. 27, not sure what he’s looking for, and republican? hard swipe left.

the second and third stages took the longest, but that’s when the disappointment came in. after a few days of texting, the inevitable message about meeting in person would come. if the guy seemed normal enough, you’d agree, and finally meet. you’d build up the moment in your head and pick out a cute outfit and dance excitedly in your room beforehand, going through the possible conversation starters you could use if it got awkward.

you’d sit through a date with them and wait to be asked questions, wait for them to express some sort of interest in you as a person, but it would never come. instead, you would sit and listen to them harp about themselves for hours. every time, without fail, it was almost as if they didn’t care enough that you were there.

then, they’d presumptuously ask if you wanted to come home with them and, well, your decision couldn’t be clearer.

as much as you hated generalizing, the men from your tinder dates were proving to be pretty shit. they looked good on paper, but when it came down to dating you, they fucking sucked. and you were beginning to lose hope.

you’d sworn that you would take on one last date before deleting the forsaken app. lee heeseung is everything you’re looking for in a man, and you think it’s a wonder he matched with you instantly. the texts you exchange pass your perception of normal, and before you know it, he’s proposing you meet up at a japanese restaurant downtown.

you find yourself sitting across from a man you think god sent as an apology for all of the other 4 billion and some men.

“you are suspiciously perfect,” you frown, squinting at your date across the table. “like it’s weirding me out. what is wrong with you, lee heeseung?”

“quite a lot actually,” he jokes, “but my mom says i’m a good boy. i’d trust her, if i were you.”

snorting, you reach to snatch the last dumpling with your chopsticks. heeseung’s grab the dumpling before yours do, but he’s quick to place it onto your plate and tell you he’ll order more. as he politely calls the waitress over and thanks her when she brings over a new plate of dumplings, you can’t help but think you’re fucked. either your standards are low, or heeseung is just one remarkable man.

but as the afternoon progresses, you begin to lean towards the latter. heeseung takes a genuine interest in your hobbies and work, asking you thought-provoking and personal questions that don’t toe the line of being intrusive and passive-aggressive. you realize that this is the first date you’ve been on where you’ve talked so much, and it feels so weird to not spend the entirety of your date looking forward to going home.

“i think i’ve found out what’s wrong with you,” you tell him once both of you are standing outside of the restaurant. heeseung had paid for the bill no questions asked, and when you’d gotten up to shrug your coat on, you realized with a start that the sky outside was pitch black.

as heeseung hums unassumingly and fixes you with a questioning look, you grin and say, “you hate mint chocolate. you’re a walking red flag, lee heeseung.”

your date bursts out into laughter and shakes his head. the wide smile stays on his face as he offers his arm to you, bringing you close to his side when you take it. “fine, you’ve got me there. can i at least walk you to your bus stop before you block me?”

you pretend to think about it, tapping your chin with your forefinger, before sighing and agreeing with a matching smile. your walk to the stop takes you through a busy central street that’s alive in the early evening, and you can’t help but press yourself closer to heeseung. he steers the two of you through the crowds with relative ease, and you somehow manage not to bump into anyone for the entirety of the walk, all thanks to him.

as you sit on the bench together and wait for your bus to show up, you use the cold as an excuse to huddle up to heeseung’s side. he laughs again, a lilting noise that tugs at your heartstrings, and you quickly realize you’ve gotten yourself in far too deep from the first date.

you have to move off his shoulder when he begins taking his jacket off. confused, you watch as he drapes the material over your back and urges you to slip your arms in through the sleeves so he can zip it up. you notice your bus rolling up to the curb and panic, turning to heeseung with a frown.

“don’t worry about it,” he reassures you. kissing your cheek sweetly, he helps you get up and walks you toward the bus door. “you have to walk home from the bus, i don’t want you getting cold. just give it to me on our next date, yeah?”

stunned, you nod shyly and step into the bus. as you scan your card and take a seat next to the window, you peer outside and grin when you find heeseung waiting to wave goodbye. he’s a bit blurry because the glass has fogged up from the heat, but you can make out the way his face softens when you trace a heart into the window.

with the promise of a second date and heeseung’s cozy coat on your shoulders, you begin making your way home, feeling oddly warm and thrilled beyond belief.

maybe tinder had finally worked out in your favor. you’d make sure to leave a 5 star review when you got home.

✧ jay - rollerskating rink

for what it’s worth, you weren’t the one that chose the location for your first date.

you’d left the decision up to jay, who, in all of his dependable glory, seemed to have chosen the worst possible location– at least for him.

“jay?” you call to the panting boy behind you. “are you sure you’re okay? we can always go sit down for a bit and come back later.”

your date shakes his head adamantly and pushes himself forward using the railing, scrunching his eyes shut like he’s anticipating another fall. he looks awfully adorable in the hot pink skates that the rink had lent him, even if he’s faring worse than a newborn deer with them on. the juxtaposition of his carefully crafted and sophisticated outfit with the cartoonish design of the skates is oddly endearing to you.

“wow, i really thought this looked harder than it actually was,” jay pauses by the railing, leaning down to rub at his ankle with a pained expression. “these skates are beating my ass.”

“why’d you choose this place if you’ve never been rollerskating before?” you can’t help but ask.

“okay, don’t laugh,” jay warns, avoiding your curious eyes. his cheeks are all red as he continues to massage his ankle, and you doubt it’s entirely because he’s exhausted from skating. “your best friend told me you like to come here a lot, but that you never have someone to go with. figured i’d be that person for you, even if i suck a lot.”

the thought of jay willingly sacrificing his comfort and the wellbeing of his ankles for you makes you feel warm all over. you help him stand up and regain his balance without relying on the rail, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek as encouragement. poor unsuspecting jay crumbles down immediately after, clutching onto the rail for support. you can’t help but laugh, though it isn’t unkind.

“just know i appreciate all of your sacrifices,” you tell him. offering your hand, you pull him up and continue to hold on to him as you lightly push backwards with your skates. “we can go slow, i’ll teach you some basic moves to get you moving around on your own.”

jay gulps but nods nonetheless, staggering forward after you. it’s relatively easy to keep him upright when you’re going at such a slow pace, his soft hands encased between the firm fingers of your own. you throw a look over your shoulder every now and then to make sure you don’t run into anyone, but the rink’s empty enough at this hour that you have enough space to move about freely with jay attached to you.

“bend your knees a little– yeah, that’s good, now glide forward one foot at a time, lean into your strides a bit,” you instruct, gaze focused on your date’s wobbly legs. the tight fitting jeans he’d worn are admittedly hot, but you feel a bit guilty thinking about jay’s thighs while he’s trying not to break the bones in them.

as soon as jay gets the basic motions down, you switch to skating side by side with him, your linked hands suspended between the two of you. he’s still slow and careful with his movements, but you can tell he’s fallen into a rhythm that works for him. you don’t mind having to inch your way across the rink with him. if anything, it’s nice having him by your side.

“i think this was just a big ploy to get me to hold your hand,” you tease.

jay flushes and, very tellingly, doesn’t say a word.

snickering, you begin to swing your hands between your bodies. jay’s hand is big and warm, and you don’t want to let go soon. “you should know i would’ve held your hand anyway. next time, let’s hold hands at a place that won’t break your tailbone.”

✧ jake - bowling

“you know what they say about men and bowling?”

“no, jake,” you deadpan. you knew exactly where this was going, and yet you still decide to give jake the satisfaction. something about being a good date, even if jake has always been a friend you’d teased first and foremost. “what do they say?”

“they’re either good in bed or at bowling,” jake steps back from the lane and looks over his shoulder to wink at you. his arm swings back an exaggerated amount as he walks toward the foul line, sending the ball rolling onto the wood with zero coordination. it immediately goes towards the gutter. “these are mutually exclusive, scientifically proven.”

but in all of jake’s infinite luck, the ball veers towards the middle at the very last minute, hitting the front-most pin and knocking down the rest in succession. above you, the screen plays a cute animation of bowling pins running away from the ball, only to be smothered with a large neon text spelling out STRIKE! in bold letters.

“oh this is so bad for you,” you bite back the urge to laugh. jake’s mortified face turns towards you and you almost lose it at the sight of his heartbroken expression. “you’ve got another turn, by the way. let’s see if you can get a double, babe.”

jake’s next ball ends up in the gutter and he cheers loudly, earning him very confused looks from the kids in the lane next to you. one of them offers their dinosaur bowling ramp to help jake out, but he kindly turns them down and tells them he’s trying to let you win.

unfortunately for the both of you, you don’t hold up too great score-wise either. even with your one lucky spare and otherwise average abilities, jake ends up winning by 20 whole points, a feat he doesn’t seem too keen on celebrating. the light in your lane turns off after the round is over, and jake proposes you two get some well-deserved food.

“do you think this is a lame date?” he asks you once you’ve sat down at one of the plastic benches. you instantly frown at the question and reach out to spear a handful of fries with your fragile plastic fork.

“don’t worry, i think it’s sexy when men are good at sports,” you reassure him, “also it’s cute that you wanted to let me win. and that you bought me loaded fries with extra cheese. it’s super romantic.”

jake snorts, but you notice how his shoulders visibly relax at your words. navigating your friendship-turned-something-bigger was harder than you’d anticipated it would be, and acknowledging your reciprocated feelings was proving to be the easiest part.

you knew that jake was equally on edge about fucking this whole thing up. there was a lot more at stake here than with someone you hadn’t known for years prior. you were afraid of diving headfirst into something that could potentially rip away an important part of you, afraid that one wrong move would send jake tumbling out of your life. you had cherished him long before you had realized you loved him differently.

but as you watch jake chew through a forkful of fries, you realize that there’s nothing complicated about this. things have always been simple with him, and they’ll continue to be no matter if you’re dating or not.

“cmon, next round is on me,” you stand up and wipe the last of the cheese from your mouth. “if you can beat me again, i’ll consider letting you prove that silly bowling theory wrong to me.”

the speed at which jake gets up is dizzying. he’s at the counter paying before you can even catch up to him, sliding a few bills over to the employee and turning to you with a playful grin. “we’re at lane 7, babe. go get warmed up.”

✧ sunghoon - laser tag

your heart is racing so fast you can feel it in your head. clutching the plastic gun to your chest, you press yourself closer to the wall and still your breathing. the red light on your heavy vest has stopped blinking, meaning you’d recovered from the last hit, but you know you can’t risk running just yet.

the undeniable sound of footsteps creeping closer makes you inch toward the corner of the wall, where you know sunghoon is waiting for you. you bite your lip and tense your finger on the trigger, peering over the bricks that are obscuring your vision.

surely enough, even in the darkness of the laser tag arena, you can make out sunghoon’s determined face. he’s crouched down behind a beat-up car, wearily scanning the area. most likely looking for you, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction just yet.

the blue on his vest has dimmed down– you’d hit him several times earlier and knew this was probably one of his last lives left. your own indicator showed that your lives were also running low, and based on how exhausted you felt, you knew you couldn’t have much time left from the round. you had to move in soon, or risk tying with sunghoon.

in your case, you thought that would be worse than losing.

taking a deep breath, you lift your gun and peer around the corner one more time, and in the split second it takes for sunghoon to notice you, you manage to send a shot straight at his vest. but the light on his vest doesn’t budge, and as you realize you had horribly misaimed, your date takes the opportunity to aim at you properly.

your vest makes a video game-like noise of defeat and you feel your gun power down. you know you have to hide for the next minute to let it recharge, but as you spin around and try to figure out where to run toward, you notice sunghoon already closing in.

“such a shame,” he drawls, holding up his gun with a smirk. you frown, backing up until you feel your shoulders hit a concrete wall. sunghoon’s voice is quiet enough not to draw attention from your teammates, but it sends shivers down your spine nonetheless. “thought you’d finally beat me this round. what happened, babe?”

“i still have one more life left, don’t get all cocky.” you mumble, shaking your gun frustratedly. the minute needed to pass by quicker.

looking over his shoulder, you realize with a frown that you’re in quite possibly the most secluded part of the arena. there’s no hope calling out for help or trying to make a run for it.

sunghoon squints down at your indicator and moves in even closer. you feel your breath quicken when the front of his vest hits yours, and you’re left caged in to stare up defiantly at him. he’s grinning at you like he’s already won.

“i’m not going to let you win,” you lean in toward him and whisper. sunghoon’s eyes flit toward your lips, and you try not to think about throwing your chances out the window and kissing him.

“you don’t have anywhere to run,” he places a hand next to your head on the wall, and to really drive the point home, you feel him press the muzzle of his gun against your side, where you know your sensor is. you’re pretty certain he can hear how fast your heart’s beating, and it makes you flush red from embarrassment. “you ready to admit defeat yet? or are you going to keep being stubborn?”

there’s no reason you should feel this lightheaded, but sunghoon’s so, so close to you that you can’t think properly. he’s practically pressed up against you, warm and solid and he’s barely a few centimeters away, and if you lean in just a bit more, you’ll be able to kiss him.

so that’s what you do.

“sure,” you say simply, and lean up to softly brush your lips against his. you grab at his neck with your free hand, bringing him flush against you so that you can fully slot your mouth with his. he’s surprised– you can tell from the way his gun clatters loudly to the floor next to you, and you try not to smile into the kiss.

seconds later, you distantly hear your gun make a familiar rebooting sound. you hold sunghoon firmly against you as you blindly aim your gun toward the sensor on his side, and with one last peck to the side of his mouth, you pull the trigger.

sunghoon’s vest goes dark. you don’t think he registers this, though, because he stares at you wide-eyed and adorably confused as you pull back from the kiss.

“i win,” you tease, and your date blinks down at his indicator.

“you win,” sunghoon affirms quietly. conveniently, the overhead lights turn on as the round draws to a close, and you can’t help but notice the way he’s reddened all over.

“victory kiss?”

✧ sunoo - picnic

ten minutes into your date with sunoo, you make the most devastating observation ever: sunoo has freckles.

they’re visible for only seconds at time, when the sun hits his face at just the right angle, but it still makes your breath catch in your throat every time you see them. they’re littered across his face like miniature stars, dipping across his cheeks in multitudes and scattering off toward his temples and brow bones.

your hands itch to reach out and trace them.

“–and then once we finally got to the place, it turned out to be super cute and they had some of the best lemonade i’ve ever had.” sunoo’s voice slowly trickles back into your ears, and you blink the world into focus once again.

you find your date looking at you with crinkled eyes, studying your features with amusement. almost like he knows exactly what’s been going through your mind.

“sorry,” you laugh sheepishly, reaching out to grab another chocolate-covered strawberry. sunoo had made them himself for the occasion, that much he’d eagerly disclosed within the first few minutes of the date, and you had found it too endearing for your poor heart. “i got distracted. what was this place called again?”

"auntie lim’s diner,” he answers slowly, smirking when you nod off-handedly. “hey, what’s on your mind?”

“lemonade,” you respond just a bit too quickly, face blanching when sunoo’s grin grows impossibly wider. whining and covering yourself with your hands, you try not to focus on the way his melodic laughter rings out like bells.

“lemonade, huh?” sunoo’s teasing is light-hearted, but that doesn’t stop your heart from leaping up into your throat. “was there some on my face? because you’ve been staring an awful lot for the past few minutes.”

groaning, you duck your head and try to focus on finishing your strawberry. you can feel the heat rise from your cheeks to your ears though, and are certain sunoo’s made note of this when he giggles and leans forward to get a better look at you.

“you’ve got freckles,” you mumble, picking at the leaves of the strawberry. when sunoo doesn’t respond for a while, you look up and bravely gesture toward his cheeks, pointing at where you’d seen the aforementioned spots with a shaky finger. “and like– it’s super cute. you’re super cute. but it caught me off-guard so, like. yeah. sorry for staring.”

sunoo hums. you can feel his eyes roving through your face, but you immediately look away once they finally meet yours. then, you feel something warm encasing your hand, and nearly jerk in surprise when your fingers come to brush against the soft skin of sunoo’s face moments later.

“don’t apologize,” he mumbles, leading your hand down the side of his cheek, where you’d pointed just seconds ago. “i’m really flattered you noticed. and you don’t have to be shy about stuff like this, i’d honestly be a bit worried if we were on a date and you didn’t find me attractive.”

reveling at the supple skin beneath your fingertips, you feel the weight ease off of your chest almost instantly. despite having known each other for a limited amount of time, sunoo’s come to be quick at recognizing when you feel out of place or uncomfortable, and he’s become too good at easing you back into safe waters. he’s too good to you.

“don’t get ahead of yourself,” you tease back instead, unable to handle the growing wave of emotions in you. “i only said your freckles were cute.”

sunoo looks up at you through his lashes, and your hand freezes where it’s fallen by his chin. flitting your eyes downwards, you watch his rosy lips part, almost like they want to voice your hidden intentions. gulping, you subconsciously feel yourself draw in closer, until you can feel his breath wash out against your cheeks like water on shore.

your heartbeat’s in your ears and sunoo’s pretty mouth is right there. glancing back up at his eyes, you notice that he’s also looking down at your lips, tracing the minuscule movement of your tongue peeking out to wet them.

he’s so close. you can almost just lean in a bit and–

“yeah? so then my second date invitation to auntie lim’s diner has been rejected?”

pausing, your eyes widen as you stare back at sunoo in bewilderment. he’s grinning at you slyly, the edges of his eyes crinkling with laughter as his whole body shakes with amusement. you can’t help the string of giggles that bubble out of you almost like second nature. it’s nice, you think, having someone like sunoo to laugh with.

“i mean, i guess i’ll have to try this lemonade you speak so highly of."

✧ jungwon - boba place

in retrospect, choosing a first date location for you and a total stranger was easier than you thought it would be. yang jungwon, as your best friend had briefly introduced him to you, seemed simple enough to enjoy normal things. you already had a place in mind before your friend showed you his photos, but you really couldn’t help it once you laid eyes on him.

“has anyone told you your eyes look like tapioca pearls?”

jungwon’s cat-like features curl in amusement and he pops his lips off of the boba straw. he chews through his last gulp, wiping at the droplet of milk tea that had trickled out onto his bottom lip. you follow the movement with your eyes, coughing when you absentmindedly swallow a pearl without chewing it fully.

“no, but should i take that as a compliment?” jungwon asks, passing you a napkin.

you take it and wipe at your own mouth, cheeks growing red out of embarrassment. “yeah. but now that i think about it, it does sound kind of weird. i don’t want to eat your eyes, i promise.”

jungwon laughs, mouth pulling into an endearingly wide grin. okay, your friend had definitely undersold him. jungwon was cute as fuck.

“why’d you choose a boba place, anyway?” he continues, fiddling with the cup in his hold. he’d finished his drink surprisingly fast, and you have half a mind to offer him some of your own. “not that i don’t like it. great choice, honestly. but why?”

you shrug. “the atmosphere is nice. and if you’re going to go on a date with someone you don’t know that much, might as well go somewhere you can talk. it would be pretty awkward to watch a movie with a stranger, don’t you think?”

jungwon nods seriously, hair bouncing along with his movements. “your friend was right about you being smart.”

“yeah?” now that you thought about it, you hadn’t considered how your best friend had sold you to jungwon. given that he’d agreed, you figured it must’ve been pretty alright. that, and the fact that it was your beloved best friend in question, you had no doubt you were probably oversold, if anything.

still, there was a nagging curiosity in your head that you couldn’t ignore. “what else was my friend right about?”

“that you’re easy to talk to, and that i’d feel comfortable around you,” jungwon muses, glancing down as he traces the rim of his plastic cup. he seems to be mulling over his next words carefully, lips twisted into a cute pout. “they also said that you were pretty. the photos they showed me really were great, but you’re even better in person. not that looks are the most important thing but, y’know. you’re a package deal, basically.”

you feel the way your ears burn red from his words, and you stutter your way through a shocked thank you. jungwon grins knowingly, but doesn’t comment on it further. instead, he asks you if you want to share one of the cake slices in the display window that you were eyeing earlier. you try not to look too eager as you nod, choosing to ignore jungwon’s mumble of cute as he walks away. for your well-being, of course.

jungwon returns with a slice of red velvet and two forks in hand. he waits for you to take the first bite before sinking his own fork into the cake. “your turn. what’d your friend tell you about me?”

you know you have to word your answer carefully, or else you worry you’ll come off as a weirdo. jungwon’s too good to chase off just yet, and you haven’t had this much luck with a date in a long while. or ever, you think.

“my friend told me that the most important things about you were that you’re a psychology major and that you look like that one campus cat,” you trail off, unsure, “charles? was that his name?”

jungwon barely manages to set his fork down before he’s bursting into laughter. you would think you’d said something wrong but his entire face is crinkled with amuse and you can’t help but join in on the giggling, ignoring the glaring teenagers from the table over.

“charlie, yes, of course i know him,” jungwon manages to squeeze in between giggles, “oh my god, i didn’t know people outside of my friend group knew about this joke."

“so you’re the cat that’s always hanging around the quad,” you say, dead-serious, and jungwon meows cutely as if to agree with you.

“okay, so,” he puts his hand up and begins listing off on his fingers, “i look like a boba ball, the infamous cat on our campus, and what else?”

“my next boyfriend,” you say before you can stop yourself, and you slap a hand over your mouth in surprise as your cheeks color in embarrassment.

jungwon grins. “that can be arranged.”

✧ niki - arcade

“okay, now i’m actually convinced you’re cheating,” niki whines loudly, letting go of the controller and slumping back in his seat with a pout.

the game you’ve been going at for the past half hour– a car racing game set in an alternate reality– dramatically replays the moment your character crossed the finish line and won. the stark contrast of the accompanying confetti on the screen next to niki’s misery makes you giggle, and you reach out to slip the tickets that the machine spits out into your backpack.

“will you feel better if i get you something with these?” shaking a strand of tickets enticingly, you watch as your date immediately sits up and abandons his sulking to nod at you eagerly.

the teenager working the prize desk looks at the two of you with such a deadpan expression you nearly mistake him for a robot. gathering your pile of tickets onto the counter, you look up at the various different stuffed animals and boxes on display, frowning once you notice the ticket prices taped onto them, denoted with far too many zeroes for your liking. almost like inflation’s gotten to the arcades as well.

“see anything you like?” you turn to niki, brushing your shoulder against his.

you watch him survey the different rows, expression growing grim once he comes to the same exact realization as you.

“um,” it’s almost comical how you can hear the frown in his voice. “actually nevermind, these prizes are crazy. holy shit, three thousand tickets for a snorlax plushie?”

“right!” you nod, ducking your head and stifling your laughter when the employee sighs out loudly.

with your meager six hundred and thirty-seven tickets, you and niki manage to get a handful of smaller, yet arguably better things: a sticky frog, two chinese finger traps, a whistle that sounds like duck quacks, and three boxes of different pocky flavors.

“i had no idea that coconut pocky existed,” you mumble in awe, reaching into the packet to draw out another stick. you observe it under the fading sunlight, popping it into your mouth with a happy hum.

after you and niki had spent your fortune of tickets, you’d decided to take your business elsewhere (or, alternatively: leave before the employee ended up kicking you out). you found yourselves on a bench right outside of said establishment, going through each of the prizes that you’d tucked away into your backpack.

“me neither, but i really like ‘em. here, have some of the mango ones,” niki holds out a second box towards you, and you eagerly reach in to pull out some of the sticks.

the sun’s begun to descend down the horizon, and you realize with a start that you’d managed to spend the entire day in the arcade with niki. the date seems to be drawing to an inevitable end, much to your disappointment, but you can’t help and savor the warm feeling that the day has left you with.

“it’s getting dark,” niki seems to read your thoughts. you hear shuffling and turn to see him stand up and collect his belongings, reaching out to offer his hand to you once he’s done. “i should walk you to your bus stop.”

staring up at him, you blurt, “do you want to go get a proper dinner instead?”

the words rush out of you before you can think, but no matter your shyness, you’re glad you’ve said them. niki’s surprised expression quickly morphs into something gentler, and he nods almost like he’s relieved. “oh thank god, i didn’t want to go home yet either.”

laughing, you take his hand and stand up from the bench you’d been sharing for the past hour. but even after he helps you up, niki doesn’t let go of your hand, instead threading his fingers through yours to hold you more comfortably.

you don’t say anything, but when niki looks over at you to make sure it’s okay, you smile at him brightly.

“so– fried chicken?”

550 notes · View notes

fryingpan1234567 · 10 months

Text

some CHB headcanons

every cabin has LEDs around the inside, but there’s a constant battle over what color they are

Percy has his rippling back and forth from teal to blue and it looks like light dancing through water all over his walls and floor

the Apollo cabin can usually settle for orange and yellow as a common ground

the Aphrodite kids have a different color for each time of day and sleep with pink on the lowest brightness setting

the Hermes cabin has like ten different strips and they’re all constantly shifting

Demeter cabin’s shifts with the seasons

ANYWAYS MOVING AWAY FROM THE LEDS

they have movie nights, which I will talk about in a different post

before everybody goes back to school, the Aphrodite and Hecate cabins have a massive salon at the end of the summer with new haircuts and magic hair dye and outfit recommendations and fake but enchanted sturdy nails and a whole bunch of other stuff and basically it’s a week straight of spilling hot tea between everyone in camp

if someone asks where a camper got their hair done when they get back to school they just go “oh, um… summer camp.” and their friends will snort and be like bro isn’t summer camp the opposite of a makeover?? but they get no argument, just a shrug and a half smile

when I tell you pride month over there is a fucking riot

because Mr. D is in on it, right?? because he’s the god of gender?? and Chiron is aroace and has been raising dumbass gay heroes for literal centuries?? PLUS the sheer fucking amount of queer peeps up in there?? dude yeah

cabins competing for who shows the most pride

Demeter’s roof is covered in rainbow flowers

Hecate’s is enchanted to emit actual light in whatever flag colors of whoever uses the front door, even when they’re straight (it’s just a rainbow)

Percy collects a bunch of shed scales from the hippocampi at the bottom of the lake and then puts them all over his cabin

I could make a whole post about CHB pride but

every single Apollo kid is also a theater kid fight me

Rachel Elizabeth Dare painted a skateboard for Percy’s birthday and he brings it everywhere now, it even sits in his backpack at school

Leo, Annabeth, Percy, and Piper fucking love horror movies. Frank, Hazel, and Jason fucking hate them. They watch through their fingers, if at all

Piper loves the band Surfaces with all her heart, but she also is a die hard Green Day and P!ATD fan

Jake Mason is covered in burn scars up to his neck, just like Deadpool, just not bald lol

Hephaestus and Apollo kids faintly radiate warmth (like more so than a normal person)

the Stolls sometimes stay at camp year-round because their mom is off on international missions that are too high-risk for them to help with

the seven are AVID Smash Bros players

really everyone but

not as many people go to the Athena campers for help with homework as you might think, but whenever anyone does, they’re happy to help

the sun chariot blasts music at a frequency only the Apollo kids can hear, so their life kind of has a shitty soundtrack that consists of a mix of Broadway, Queen, modern stuff, and random bits of Beethoven every now and then

the Romans swear on few occasions

the Greeks know when to swear and when to be polite

the Valhalla peeps swear unbridled and all the time

the Egyptians never swear (in English)

for the longest time, Will Solace thinks the only gift from his dad is his healing prowess— which is obviously great, but he expresses being upset over the fact that he’s not very good at archery

well, considering this is the dumbass who didn’t bring a weapon to actual fucking Tartarus, Nico drags him to the weapon shack thing immediately afterwards and made him pick something out

he's immediately drawn to the Celestial Bronze shotgun.

Nico’s just like “what in the redneck shit did you just pick up” and Will jokingly aims it at his chest and grins and says “you know I’m from Texas, right?”

that’s how they find out Will is one of the damn best marksmen in Greek demigod history

some of the Disney nerds in the Apollo cabin sing What Once Was Mine to the little ones who need bandaids for knee scrapes and give them lollipops afterwards

Percy Jackson absolutely used to make poverty and struggle meal jokes all the time, but he got weird and concerned looks for it at CHB, so he kind of just stopped. But one day, aboard the Argo II, the PERFECT opportunity came up and he just HAD TO and as per usual— everyone else looked at him like he’s crazy— but Leo laughed so hard chocolate milk came out of his nose and that’s the story of how the two of them became Best Friends

#anyways idk what came over me #riordanverse #percy jackson #leo valdez #jason grace #Annabeth Chase #hazel levesque #frank zhang #piper mclean #Will Solace #nico di angelo #solangelo #valgrace #Jake Mason #connor stoll

1K notes · View notes

elodieunderglass · 16 days

Note

You posted the link to thing encouraging Asks so...

I wanna know about the boat you're buying!

Thank you so much! You might have seen an older post. From about 2012-2016 I lived on a narrowboat and moved around nomadically on canals around England. I wasn’t on tumblr much at the time, but sporadically tagged using #i live on a boat Then we bought a house, had a lot of children, and took on more respectable careers and an allotment.

While my nomadic era is over I am still interested in the politics and pressures around travelling lifestyles and I’m still unusually knowledgeable about narrowboats.

I liked living off-grid, being nomadic but still have My House, being in nature, and didn’t mind the physical challenges of everyday life.

I secretly hated moving the boat, which always felt like the most stressful parallel parking you ever tried, and frequently involved me having to do things like jump off a moving boat with a rope 😔 I don’t mind walking a mile to the car to go to work everyday, or hauling wood and water, but I did mind having to jump off moving boats with ropes while Dr Glass piloted the boat and shouted things like “the other left”. This sounds very gendered, and actually he was much better at jumping, except that when I piloted the boat I did not enjoy him jumping off it.

I should clarify that the boats move, like, 4 mph. It is generally considered an excruciatingly slow paced lifestyle. I am just extremely bad at platformers. I have never successfully enjoyed a video game that wanted me to jump onto a platform. Doing this regularly, to get water to live, was something I was happy to walk away from. I hated locks a little bit too. And swing bridges. What it comes down to is that I loved all the boating except for moving the boat much, which is a reasonably self-limiting lifestyle in many respects.

I loved my boat (she was my girl) and the kingfishers and the swans laying their heads in my lap and bringing me their babies to see. I didn’t like the jumping and the stress of the Canal And River Trust never having a coherent policy around liveaboard boaters. That’s a whole thing to unpack but the British have basically made it harder every year to be a legal nomad and it was stressful enough with the jumping.

#I live on a boat

184 notes · View notes

ceasarslegion · 3 months

Text

I know this is like. An unpopular stance to have (as if i dont have enough of those) but i wish we could just bring back terms like "loser" and phrases like "suck it up" instead of pretending that one's circumstances are never ever their own fault and it's always something else.

And before you start claiming things about my politics here, i am very much not saying that homeless people ever deserve to be homeless or that racial, gender, disability, and general minority discrimination doesn't exist in the world and the workplace.

What I am saying is that I have experienced a few too many people who just. Seem to absolutely refuse to help themselves and then blame it on the economy, or their identity, calling their parents loaded terms like "abusive" for asking their adult children still living in their childhood bedrooms if theyre going to at least try to get a job or improve their circumstances. I've experienced a few too many folks who just give up and roll over the second something is a little uncomfortable or scary that they could have accomplished if they well, sucked it up, and then go on to complain about how its all the fault of other things.

I'm not saying it's not hard. I'm not saying there aren't other factors that may make it harder for you to do. I'm not saying that your worth as a person is diminished if you don't do x.

I'm saying that if you don't even fucking TRY the moment it's not handed to you by others anymore, it's a little misguided to always blame the resulting lack of social mobility and accomplishment on other people and things, and it's a bit presumptuous to act like you are never at any fault for your own circumstances just because of [insert factor here]. I hate to break this to you but youre going to have to put effort into your life if you want it to get better. That doesnt mean its always going to work out but if you dont even try because you give up the moment it gets hard then well. The last thing i want to hear from you is constant complaining about circumstances youre doing nothing to improve

#some thoughts

193 notes · View notes

mageofseven · 11 months

Text

The Boys Reacting to MC Calling Themself Luke's Mama

Ok so despite the feminine term, I see this for MCs of any gender being this sweet, loving mama bear to Lukey baby 🥰

•▪︎▪︎◇°●♡●°◇▪︎▪︎•

Lucifer:

"MC, the Celestial realm won't actually let you adopt him."

Pursed his lips as both MC and their new son stares daggers at him.

sighs Nevermind...

Doesn't think the conversation is worth the mental energy anymore.

Though is still worried that his love will feel even more heartbroken when Luke is sent back to the Celestial realm.

Mammon:

Actually finds it adorable that MC sees the kid in this way

Not that he'd ever admit it though.

Actively pretends he doesn't care about it at all

But in truth, his heart gets all warm when he sees his Human interact with the small boy

And is actually kinda jealous of the tenderness from their parent-child relationship.

Leviathan:

Bro is so jealous.

Levi often complains about it and calls it "weird".

Made the mistake of calling it that in front of Luke one day

And the small boy actually kicked him for hurting his Mama's feelings!

This man almost summoned Lotan on this boy's ass

But luckily didn't because Lucifer was there

So instead Levi just went to his room and pouted about the attention his Henry was giving the angel.

Satan:

Finds it mildly strange, but really has no issue with it.

He knows his Kitten is a really loving person with a soft spot for kids

And ultimately is happy that the small boy brings them so much comfort.

Does worry about how they'll handle it when the young angel is sent back to the Celestial realm

But decides that it's better left for another time.

Right now, the boy makes his Kitten happy and that's what matters.

Asmodeus:

Find their relationship super cute!

And tries to get Luke to call him 'Papa'

Which doesn't work in the slightest and just makes the angel boy annoyed.

He's still happy for his Dolly though and likes that the child is so good to them.

Beelzebub:

Oh boy, does this man want kids

Like right now.

Their relationship really makes his baby fever worse

But he's still really happy for his Muffin and Luke.

Does wish Luke would also call him 'Papa', but does not want to make the child uncomfortable.

Enjoys spending time with the two and watching the human be all motherly to the angel

And often imagines them being that way to a child they make together.

MC, maybe you should make Lukey a sibling? Like, as soon as possible lol

Belphegor:

Is honestly very annoyed by it.

Like, no you freaking chihuahua, they are not gonna bake or play a game with you

We are napping.

Sadly gets into some arguments with MC over this

Because dude, you did not just speak to their son that way.

Luke may be the child in this scenario, but Belphie is definitely the brat.

This stubborn man has learned to apologize after these situations because MC is just as stubborn, if not more than him

And literally won't even look at him till he apologizes.

To make matters worse, it's not them he has to apologize to

It's Luke

And by the devil, this man hates apologizing to that little gremlin.

Diavolo:

Finds their relationship so adorable and tells them that every day!

Honestly, it makes Luke blush more than it makes his Queen.

The angelic child doesn't mind this though

And honestly wishes he could call Diavolo 'Papa' too

Something that Diavolo also wishes from the small angel

But boy would that have a lot of heavy political implications that would set people off, both in his realm and in the Celestial realm.

Sorry boys 😅

Still, MC's incredible love and care towards the child is beautiful to the prince, who starts showing Luke the same from himself.

Another man whose baby fever gets sparked up, but unlike Beel, is somewhat nervous to bring up the topic to MC.

After all, any children that come from him would be tethered to the Royal Family and the Devildom as a whole, which is a lot of pressure

Something he worries about putting on his love and their potential child.

So for now, he just enjoys spending with MC and Luke

And dreams of having a child of MC and his own.

Barbatos:

Barb has always been one to like kids, so to see his partner has such a strong love for this angelic child really warms his heart.

Barb already cares about Luke a lot at this point and is very grateful for his stay in the Devildom.

Luke is his little baking buddy and it would be a lie to say he hasn't grown found of him.

However, this butler is also realistic; he knows the child will eventually be whisked back up to the Celestial realm

And he and MC may not see him again.

Has this conversation with his love, but only once.

Doesn't want to hurt the human, but wants to make sure they know how this will eventually end.

Overall, loves their cute little parent-child relationship

And makes the butler think...what if--

But no. It would be much better if he and MC do not have children.

With his job, it wouldn't be fair for the child to not get the attention they deserve because he is constantly working.

That and his...'gift'; he would never want to risk his child inheriting it

And the pain that comes along with it.

Solomon:

Finds it really cute how attached his little minx has gotten to the angel.

Honestly, Soli already sees Luke as a little brother to him so he can see why the fellow human is so attached to the child.

Doesn't see himself as Luke's father because the sorcerer really has trouble imagining himself as parent

But has no issue in his little minx seeing themself as Luke's 'mama' instead of their sibling.

MC and Luke are happy and that's what matters to the man.

Unlike the others, Solomon isn't worried about Luke getting whisked away to the Celestial realm.

This sorcerer was one of the few non angels to have more or less full access to the angel homeland

One of the perks of being a former servant to their Father.

Soli was so sure that even if Luke had to go back up to his realm that he could get some strings pulled to get MC brought up to visit him.

So no worries from this man; he lets his little minx love their new 'son' as much as they want to.

These two will never be separated for long; not if he has a say in it.

Simeon:

Honestly, this man is conflicted about their relationship.

Simeon loves little Luke and loves being his guardian

So he loves seeing how well the child and his secret partner get along.

This man also feels guilty that he can never give MC the child from him that they really want since it was a general belief that angels cannot procreate.

The human so desperately wanted a child and Luke enjoyed getting to see what it was like to have a 'mama'.

The two were happy and he loved that for them.

However, at some point, Michael will ask him to send Luke home

And the boyfriend will have no choice but to take the sweet boy away from his new 'mama'

And the idea pained him severely.

He never wanted to hurt his Feather or young Luke

But someday...he just might be forced to

And the thought killed him inside.

#obey me #obey me otome #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me brothers #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me undateables

650 notes · View notes

olderthannetfic · 5 months

Note

To the NLOG anon:

I had written a long piece but lost it, so the gist of it is that bullies are social chameleons. They will always try to find a way to get away with bullying while claiming to be the victims. And many of the "bad" NLOGs were girls looking for ways to recreate the status quo with them at the top instead.

I think that NLOGs were a natural result of the post 9/11 conservative paranoia of "anyone who is not a good American™ is a Satanic Menace to Society" (where good American meant white, christian, affluent, thin, conventionally attractive, straight...and everybody else, from foreigners, fat people, anyone gender non conforming or even alternative people were "planning the downfall of civilization"). In that climate, harassment towards "the weird" was not only tolerated but encouraged as the moral thing to do.

And the thing is, if you are ostracized from society but discouraged to learn about feminism and such, then it's no wonder that your only way of defending yourself is by using the same attacks used against you!

The big change here I think came with the recession where suddenly society became fascinated with the weird, and being a hipster or a nerdy girl was "acceptable" (hence the "golden years" of Tumblr). Many of the bullies who had gained notoriety thanks to their privilege suddenly realised they couldn't get away with it as talk about discrimination and feminism was becoming more commonplace, and so many people adopted NLOG looks and attitudes to keep doing society approved bullying.

Nowadays tho you don't see many NLOGs because, like you said, we either know better now and have deconstructed ourselves or simply because in this era of "bring back bullying" most people don't need to hide behind underprivileged people to harass someone. If they want to hate on other women they can just become a tradwife/high value woman and go back to the conservative politics of the 2000s or they can pick a bit of #girlbossfeminism while going back to their hyper feminine roots to claim *throws dice* that you have to like pink or you have internalised misogyny and that you should just try to fit into the mold, for your own good, you know.

So yeah, those who want to oppress will find a way to do so under any costume, while being the loudest and sidelining the rest of us. There's nothing to do about it, unfortunately :(

I mean... sure...

But the actual phrase "not like the other girls" rose to prominence to point out how fucking obnoxious a class of book is for its heroine who is always like "I don't want to stay home and do needlework!" and then the book is set in some era when rich ladies are supposed to be running an entire manor house or something, not just embroider, and the author has blatantly missed all of that. Or it's some Anita Blake bullshit where the heroine hates literally every other woman, and especially all of them with blond hair because the author is insecure and bugfuck nuts.

It's a specific dumb trope in fiction and term in criticism of that dumb trope.

60 notes · View notes

mr-laveau · 2 months

Note

Ayo it's your boy, uhh, skinny penis- bitch you know who tf it is hi munchkin <3 xoxo

What's your listener's name and nickname? Sweetheart, name pending,,,,

What's their backstory? As you may or may not remember - My SH is Afro-Latinx, from an empowered family. The previous generation (their parents) called out DUMP on mistreatment of human born and unempowered humans (being detained, lack of jobs and representation) which started a whole commotion for the treatment of everyone but empowered humans (feeders, humanborn, and unempowered humans) and led to restructuring of DUMP. Think if there was a magical civil rights act and equal employment act. Anyway, my SH comes into play when DUMP catches them in the wrong place/wrong time and some higher ups think this is the perfect moment for revenge - either SH goes to jail and destroys their family's upright reputation and a family member's run for office OR they work for DUMP as a way to keep an eye on the family. They hate every second of it and face a lot of pressure to conform (gender presentation wise, accepting smart comments about being a stealth and some other microaggressions) but they want to protect their family.

What's the desired aesthetic of your listener character (punk, greaser, bimbo, scene kid, schoolgirl)? I'm feeling make noir sexy again. Like if you made a 1940s mafia boss in modern day and VERY sexy but also stylish. Gotta keep up with fresh to death did you see my ice Milo Greer. Pinstripes, suspenders, harnesses/holsters, etc. But like also in a bring your own gender I don't trust your gender with raisins in it kind of way.

What's your listener's gender presentation like? Yeah so gender as in mind your business. Androgynous as in I do what I want. It's masc, it's femme, it's ambiguous, it's all of the above. Really the point is constantly serving hot girl (gn) shit and looking super sexy next to Milo. They're that super hot stylish couple everyone wishes at least a little bit they dressed like because it looks effortless. My SH uses they/them pronouns and identifies as queer as in what's it to you (or genderfluid!)

What's your listener's ethnicity? Afro-Latinx! I wanted a listener who could dance bachata, okay? They're Dominican.

What's your listener's age? Ummmmmm. I think about the same age as Milo, maybe a year older? So 31 this year.

What's your listener's body type/build? Taller than Milo for SURE, I think they're like tall-tall. Like at least 5'10. Also they're a dancer and a runner (investigator things) (perhaps they were even a track star) so they've got a tall, muscular kind of body type - but don't be afraid to give them some body fat! They're strong!

What's your listener's star sign? Taurus!

What are your listener's most important relationships and who are they connected to? Their most important relationships are for SURE with their family. Since dating Milo, they finally told their family why they started working for DUMP (lots of anxiety but they were met with a lot of support and love). They are super close to their family (which is a big extended family, lots of aunt and uncles and cousins and nieces and nephews and so on) and so they spend lots of time at family dinners/parties/celebrations and love to bring Milo with them. Because their family (unintentionally at first) became so politically active in Dahlia for the rights of human-born, unempowered humans, and feeders, they have a lot of political connections through their own work and through their family members - definitely in a well connected family!

What's your listener's hobbies/interests? They love to dance - big inspiration for them. They like partner dances and particularly love Bachata (something something fond memories watching their parents and family dance together and learning as they grew up) but they just like to dance in general. You will be catching them at Zumba classes at the local gym with the aunties and grandmas. They're also really connected to community events - there was a lot of distrust created by them joining DUMP and so they are really invested in their community service and improving their community. They loooove to cook, but they're a "let's cook together" not "I'm cooking get out of the kitchen" kind of person. Definitely a food experimenter and sometimes it can go badly. Also makes a mean cocktail - always invited to dinner parties or wanting to host them with Milo.

If your listener was a deity from a known mythology, what deity would they be? Why would you ask me this. I don't know! Maybe Terpsichore, one of the nine Greek muses associated with dancing? You don't understand how central dance is to this character. They are always dancing.

What Audio RP series are they from? RedactedASMR - Sweetheart

What kind of lover are they to their partner/what kind of friend are they? In a few words - silly-goofy, observant, and a whore (said with love). As for a friend, still silly-goofy and observant, but I think they're affectionate as hell. Think of a really sociable cat.

What is something/are some things that your listener values? They really value family and community - firm believer in it takes a village and we are all our brother's keeper (except of course when it comes to them because they should be able to help everyone and not need any help themselves. sweetheart things.) There is no understanding how invested they are in protecting and standing up for their community and that's why they put in 4x more work (and overtime) than others at DUMP - they believe in helping people and not going with the easy solution. So family, community, doing something you're passionate about every day, and fairness/justice.

Pick a song that you think represents your listener. https://open.spotify.com/track/3qQbCzHBycnDpGskqOWY0E?si=e8cb80d8d36a45b3 This song started making me think about songs for listeners to dance to and kind of kick-started this whole idea. I just have an image of Milo and SH dancing to this song together in the kitchen while something is simmering on the stove ok?

What's the inspiration behind your listener's design? I wanted a listener who could dance really well, and decided a speaker who DEFINITELY can dance is Milo. And then I had to figure out the whole cop thing, so here we are.

Could you give me a vague concept of what your listener's visual vibe is? Modernized sexy noir film - but if you could be the femme fatale and the detective and the criminal at any given point. Truly, they do it all.

What are some extra tidbits you wanna tell me about your listener? Neither Milo nor Sweetheart are good with scary stuff (despite them being a stealth) and neither of them are killing bugs. They call David or Asher to handle them (I think David kills them but Asher puts them outside). Sweetheart and Aggro? Best friends. Milo complains that they're closer than him and Aggro - something about a stealth having cat energy and Aggro just gets it. "The girls that get it, get it, Milo."

Laveau's Listener Design Lab - design #001 - Sweetheart - Lexi Moon

Heyyyy Lexi! Good to see you in my inbox and congrats on getting your listener as the first design for the labs! It was wonderful getting to work on a SH and your concept really stood out to me when I first saw it so I had to draw it up!

Design Notes!

For this design, your initial concepts made me think of a few people I could implement for inspirations to your SH's design. Those people being Catwoman from DC and Gomez Addams from the Addams Family!

From Gomez, I wanted to make Sweetheart's suit similar to the patterning of Gomez's while adding Catwoman's femme fatale flair to the design. You made a note where you wanted SH to look like a detective, a femme fatale and a criminal all in one go so I chose to aim for darker blues to show professionalism whilst implying a sense of mystery to the character–and of course we can't forget every femme fatale's signature bold lipstick colour. You can also see some of Catwoman's influence in the nails as I figured it'd be fun for them to make witty remarks while snapping back at Milo with hand gestures. Additionally, I decided to add a few embellishments to show SH's lack of total compliance to the dress code of D.U.M.P by giving them piercings and tattoos; The moon earrings here is my favourite because every SH should have a moon motif but also given the symbolisms associated with the moon and the energy you wanted your SH to capture, I felt it was the perfect choice; the blue rose tattoos are also fun imo because the thorns can be interpreted as restrictive shackles or as "a rose with thorns", the choice to also incorporate blue roses was also informed by my knowledge of what they mean symbolically (that being mystery, admiration, uniqueness and aspiration) . Finally, I also tailored SH's clothes to be more ready for action whilst being fashionable and danceable (including the oxford shoes I added) so they can always move unrestrained whilst also being the hottest thing that Milo ever laid eyes on.

Overall, this was a really fun concept for me to work on and I really enjoyed being able to design your listener, hope you enjoy!

wanna have your listener designed by me? Check out my rules to the Listener Design Lab and send an ask my way!

34 notes · View notes

kekaki-cupcakes · 7 months

Note

Hiiii, hope u're doing well :)

Can I request a slow burn-strangers to lovers connor stoll x mortal reader please?

( no headcanon, just a one shot 🫡)

Like how they met, their first kiss... AND connor reveling he's a half blood

A fem reader or gender neutral is okay

Okay so this has been sitting in my drafts since the stone ages but I had a burst of motivation so here's 2.9k of teasing and fluff

It's not really a slow burn because it's a one shot but it's implied that it happens over time so yk yk. And I checked all the boxes you get first interactions a make-out session and the big reveal :)

Cafe au but it's not an au--- Connor Stoll x gn mortal!reader

»»————-　★　————-««

“We’ve got a new kid today, you wanna show him the ropes?”

You finished ripping the receipt out of the machine and smiled politely at the customer who took their change and moved to the side. The receipt made a tearing sound as you pushed it onto the metal spike [you didn’t actually know what it was called, you realized], and then spun around, “oh thank god, yes please.”

“That’s what I thought,” Maria chuckled, wrapping an apron around her middle and pining his name tag to the front of the green material that had an odd shaped stain on the pocket. “You hate the till.”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Hopefully the new kid, he should be here in a minute, I did say four thirty.” He looked up at the clock behind the queue of customers waiting for their coffees that read four forty, and then glanced towards the glass doors.

“What’s his name?” You ask, resetting the price on the cash register and taking off the stupid little cap whoever was at the til had to wear. You groaned, “oh please don’t tell me it’s his first job, i can’t explain how to count change to another pimply little-”

“It’s his first job, just moved to New York,” she said, lifting up a sticky note and reading the note underneath it on the whiteboard near the mops. “And his name is… Cecil Markowitz.”

“I’m here, I’m here!”

“We noticed.” Maria muttered drily, pulling the cap over her jagged strawberry blonde hair.

A blonde kid, maybe fifteen or so, panted on the other side of the counter. He was in a school uniform that he tugged a black hoodie over the top of as he spoke at the speed of light. “Sorry, my brother had to drive me and he ran like four red lights so we wouldn’t be late but then-”

“Then you shut up so your amazing big brother —who did not have to drive you here by the way, I have other things I could be doing— wouldn’t get arrested?” Another boy asked with a raised eyebrow, swinging car keys around his pointer finger. You had to pay a little more attention to him than the bouncing blonde currently eyeing the tip jar, because wow, the jawline he had…

“You have to look after us Connor! That’s the whole agreement!” Cecil hissed up at his brother.

“Zip it, short stuff.” Connor [you liked the name] smirked, then turned to you. His eyes widened for a moment and you ignored the fact you immediately noticed they were blue. He blinked a few times and then cleared his throat, “Um. uh, I’ll get a black coffee… please.”

You just shrugged at him, and motioned for Cecil to follow you into the kitchens, where the fridge foods were whipped up. “Don’t order from me, I'm showing short stuff around.”

A look of horror dawned on the new employee’s face. “No, not you too!”

»»————-　★　————-««

“I’m sorry, but we don’t serve pizza here, there’s a dominoes a few blocks away if you-”

“No, I want to order one here, thank you.” The customer said to you with a frown and that patronizing look you got ten times a day just for being a teenager. “I know what I’m talking about, I’ve gotten pizza here a million times, and I'd like two large meatlovers.”

You stared blankly at the woman in front of you for a moment and wondered if it was too late to drown yourself in caramel sauce just so you wouldn’t have to deal with this lady. You take a deep breath and bring out that perfectly fake smile again to-

“Oh Fucknuggets! Miss, that chick just ran off with your purse! You’d better go chase her down!”

“What?” She shrieked, and reached for her big red leather bag and went pale under her orangey powdered face. “Oh for heaven's sake!”

The woman was out the door immediately, chasing down four different people that had just left the cafe. She waved her arms wildly and wailed like a duck that had just been stepped on.

Connor watched her leave with an amused expression on his face you had to quickly pull your eyes away from. He reached into the pockets of his spiderman hoodie [SpiderHam, to be specific] and pulled out a blinged up silver purse, flicking through the contents with interest.

He turned to you and held up an ID card with that smug expression that made your stomach feel like you’d had too much bubble tea. “I reckon I could pull it off, in the right lighting.”

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t see that.” You said quickly with your eyes narrowed, but Connor pulled the wads of cash out and stuffed it into the tip jar as he turned to the glass double doors.

“Hey!”

Cecil nearly stumbled into another customer and you motioned to the back of the cafe, pulling his apron off the rack and handing it to him as he took off his yellow beanie, which for some reason had a lot of little sun’s sewn around the edges. “Hey short stuff, you can start by taking the trash out.”

He visibly sunk, tying the apron around his middle and sighing.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Definitely don’t go over the fence to the back of the dollar store because it would be a terrible idea to see the baby racoons living in the recycling bin.”

Connor grinned, watching his little brother speed out of the room with black bags of rubbish in his hands. “So… Can I order from you today?”

“As long as it’s not a pizza, go ahead.”

“...What’s your favorite?” Connor asked, leaning on the bench littered in plastic cup lids and receipts, with his chin in his hands. He was lucky there wasn’t a queue behind him, but you probably would’ve let him sit there and distract you anyway.

You just tapped away at the ipad, sending the last of the order’s over to Maria, who was making one of the matcha teas. “Not a black coffee, if that’s what you're asking.”

“No seriously, what is it?” he said, and you felt yourself get hot when he glanced somewhere a bit lower than your eyes. Not in a gross way, but holy shit when did his own eyes get that lidded? “Maybe I’ll try it sometime…”

“Are you asking to kiss me or do you actually want an iced strawberry tea?” You blurted out, hand frozen over the screen in front of you.

Connor went red in a matter of seconds and shot up, his eyes certainly not lidded anymore. “Oh look at the time I have to go make sure my goldfish doesn’t drown,” He yelped, tripping over untied shoelaces and scrambling to the door.

“Careful… You’re looking at him like you look at those racoons.” Maria muttered as he walked past with a little grin.

»»————-　★　————-««

You dumped your school bag on a bench in the corner of the kitchen, but before you could ask Jerry if there was a new order you were supposed to pick up some new ingredients [the amount of times Connor ordered a black coffee when he dropped off Cecil meant they were seriously out of it[, someone banged on the back door.

It was pouring with rain outside, but you eased open the door and peaked out into the stormy weather, then frowned at the figure. “What are you doing back here-”

You stopped in your tracks and choked, nearly dropping the drink in your hands. Cecil rubbed his hands together to avoid frostbite, a thin line of blood down the side of his face. His hair was stuck to his forehead, and thin patches of golden powder covered it, and his clothes.

He grinned, wiping his nose. “If it’s any consolation… This isn’t my blood?”

“Maria’ll clean you up, go.” You open the door properly and shove him into the warmth, then shut it behind you and step out into the biting wind that ripped though your green apron, and marched up to the car parked near the dumpster.

Holding your hand over your eyes so you weren’t blinded by the headlights, you yelled at the driver. “Why the fuck did short stuff just come out of a fucking apocalypse movie?”

Connor leant over the passenger seat and opened the door with a totally fake innocent smile. You didn’t think he could look innocent. Hot, on the other hand…He still looked hot with blood smeared across his cheek and something shiny underneath his fingernails, apparently. He shrugged one shoulder “I mean, it isn’t our blood?”

“Connor.” You muttered, crossing your arms and squinting through the mist swirling around your feet. You looked down and had to step out of a puddle with a grimace.

Connor blinked and replied instantly, as if this was something he had to do a lot. “Do you want the technically legal version, the version that’ll make you happy, or the-”

You cut him off and glared, rain clinging to your eyelashes. “The truth.”

Connor thought for a moment and then gave you an apprehensive look. “There was a feral Harpy in the backseat of the car that popped out when we got to the intersection two blocks over.”

You sighed. “I said the truth-”

“You don’t believe me.” His voice was faint, and somehow hurt. He sounded resigned though, like he was expecting it. The look on his face made you want to climb into the pretty beat up car and grab his face and tell him you believed him so much and forever just so he’d look happy again.

Maybe if you let him talk. He could be referencing something you hadn’t seen, you reasoned. “Was the harpy like a monster or a furry?”

“Well when you think about it harpy’s really are just furry’s, but yeah it was an actual monster.” Connor said simply, and then he chewed on his thumbnail nervously “Uh, do you wanna… hop in? You look like my brother when he stuck a huntsman in Annabeth’s pillow case.”

“What does spider pranks have to do with being soaked?” You mutter, not really meaning for it to be a question. You climbed into the passenger seat, brushing pools of water off you and wiping your nose.

“You can’t even imagine.”

You raise an eyebrow at Connor. “I work in customer service, try me.”

“My dad is a god.” He blurted out, then froze and turned away from you with an odd expression, his gaze trained on the rain outside.

“Are you talking about the Romans and the Egyptians, or are you Jesus?”

“Greeks, actually.” Connor said through gritted teeth, then his eyebrows shot up and that familiar tone you might have thought about a few times seeped back into his voice. He untensed and grinned at you“One of my buddy’s did come back from the dead actually… but I don’t think Jesus would like him very much.”

“Why?”

“He’s dating one of my other buddies.”

“Oh.” You blinked, but you weren’t really sure what this conversation had to do with Connor and Cecil being attacked. “Good for him.”

“My dad’s Hermes.” Connor said suddenly, sucking in a breath and closing his eyes. When you didn’t answer, too focused on the way his face looked when he scrunched up his eyes, he glanced at you again with a cautious smile, as if your reaction really mattered to him. “Surprise?”

You thought for a moment, actually considered it, and “Yeah. That checks out,”

“Whaddaya mean? I don’t have wings on my shoes!”

“Isn’t he the god of like, traveling and stealing shit?” You ask, smiling back at him as reassuring as you could, soaked to the bone sitting in a boy’s car six minutes before your shift started. “Dude, you drive your brother back and forth across New York four times a week. And you stole that lady's purse.”

‘Oh yeah. That was fun,” he sighed, and sunk in the driver's seat. He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead and closed his blue eyes, relief painted across his face.

You wiped your nose again, sure that you’d get a cold tomorrow just from standing in the lovely New York weather for more than a few seconds. A song played on the radio quietly, and you recognised it from the playlist Maria played on the speakers in the cafe sometimes.

The lyrics went something like ‘I rob and I kill to keep him with me,

I'll do anything for that boy’. When you looked over at Connor, you gulped.

Connor glanced at you from underneath his hand, and then looked down at the drink still clutched in your hands. The pink tone of it matched the fluffy strawberry’s hanging from the rear view mirror, and it was making your fingers hurt with the cold.

He smirked. “Are you supposed to drink while you’re working?”

“You make it sound like I'm doing shots behind the counter.” You shot back with a glare, and then felt your face heat up as you spoke. “And uh… it’s not… I didn’t make it for myself.”

“There’s an angry old lady in there, you know?”

This was excruciating. You ducked your head and bit your lip a little, looking out the window so you wouldn’t have to see Connor’s face when that stupidly hot smirk spread across his lips. “Uh… I didn’t make it for a customer, either…”

“Is that-”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Connor was wide eyes and slack jawed when you turned back to him, a dark blush across his cheeks that you wanted to take a photo of because goddam he was cute, but you knew you wouldn’t be forgetting the sight any time soon. He opened his mouth to talk, his eyes no longer at, well… eye level.

You put the drink into the holder between the seats and followed his gaze. “Just kiss me.”

You hadn’t seen that smile before.

His hands were so warm on your jaw, as hot as the tight feeling in your chest that melted quickly. It happened so fast you couldn’t really register anything until you realized Connor was halfway between your seats with his teeth on your bottom lip and his soft hair threaded between your fingers.

You used it to tug him closer, as close as he could and then more, because he was warm and soft and you could feel his grin through his lips that moved against your own in rhythm that ebbed and flowed. He slid his hands off you and you nearly pulled them back, until Connor was hugging you tight around your middle, his fingers knotting through the bow tied on your apron.

You chewed on his lip, which felt puffy and pulsing under your touch, but you kept kissing him, breaking away every few seconds to breathe, but you couldn’t not press your lips along his jaw. He was just too much. You had to kiss him everywhere and pull on his hair and tilt his head back and melt into his touch like you’d die if you didn’t.

Connor sighed into your mouth and gulped, you could feel his Adam's apple bob under the palm of your hand as you pushed him back gently by his neck. You got up on your knees as he blinked once or twice, like he’d been in a trance. “You took that all very well,”

“Don’t worry, I’ll freak out later when it sinks in.” You muttered back, pushing him back into the driver's seat where he’d begun. He made an odd noise and tightened his arms around your waist, ducking his head and when he pouted you couldn’t help but slide over the cupholder and sit on his lap, as if you hadn’t been planning to do so the whole time.

Then he frowned, “Wait, you’ll freak-”

“Shhhh,” you said, pressing a finger to his soft lips. He shut up immediately. You glanced behind you at the console, checking the time. “I have four and a half minutes til I have to start, we can discuss this later.”

“Deal,” Connor breathed, dragging your hands down to his neck again and looking up with vague out eyes. You grinned at him and went back to wiping that stupid smirk off his lips.

»»————-　★　————-««

“Your boyfriends here.”

You looked up from the kitchen counter you were wiping down after an accident with the tub of coconut shavings, “Why?”

“I’m assuming he’s here for you, short stuff doesn’t have a shift til the weekend.” Maria checked the whiteboard and glanced out the swinging doors. You moved to peek over her shoulder and saw Connor standing by the doors, swinging his car keys around his pointer finger absentmindedly. He was wearing that spiderman hoodie again, the one you’d accidentally tipped black coffee down the front of once when you’d worn it.

You grinned, if you finished up cleaning and took the trash out, you’d be done in five minutes and you’d get to follow him to his car that surely wasn’t road safe and then go wherever it was he’d planned this time.

“Go. But tomorrow you have to stop the racoons from eating the tires off my Harley.” Maria sighed, crossing his arms and motioning to the exit.

“I love you.”

He raised his eyebrows “Was that directed towards me or the boy-”

“Both.”

»»————-　★　————-««

#pjo fandom #pjo #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percyjacksonfandomx reader #Connor stoll #connorstoll #Connor Stoll x reader #Connor Stoll x you #Connor Stoll c y/n #the Stoll twins #hermes cabin #coffee shop au

97 notes · View notes

evilprincesss · 6 months

Note

out of curiosity, what would it mean to you for fiction to replicate the maizula dynamic? like what features are most salient?

the heart of their relationship i think is replicable to an extent in that it's this sort of rotted love where you have known each other so long and so well that you couldn't not love each other but you have known each other so long and so well that you couldn't not hate each other as well. so that integral piece is absolutely something we can find in other relationship dynamics. like the rich girl/weird friend dynamic absolutely exists.

the sibling love triangle aspect with maiko's existence is also a hugely important and compelling aspect of maizula! this is techniaclly replicable in theory in terms of you can absolutely do love triangles where two members are related, but also it's so hard to duplicate the maizula-maiko triangle because mai is supposed to love zuko, and you can interpret her as actually loving him, and he feels like he's supposed to love her too, but they don't work fundamentally because he doesn't want to understand the worst parts of her, doesn't even want to admit that they exist, and she is so horribly caught up in azula who makes her feel so alive by acknowledging and knowing and seeing all these parts of her and bringing them out even more that she could say she chooses zuko because it's the right thing to do in terms of both heteronormativity and what choosing zuko represents, but i don't think realistically mai can actually turn away from azula and everything she's ever known and hated and loved and wanted to leave her alone and not known how to live without. not without regrets.

i think it's also so hard to replicate the way that their individual characters are and come together in the ship as a whole. like azula being a prodigious princess with such an insane relationship with gender and having such a tragic domestic origin and mai being a noblegirl who is so sullen and depressed and dead inside and has such an awful domestic life as well and who has to obey azula's orders but also absolutely doesn't do that because the power dynamic of their relationship is so complex by complete accident that while azula is higher ranking than mai socially and financially and in the military sense, mai absolutely has more power on an interpersonal level. that's something that you see a lot in lesser degrees in media with toxic female friendships sure, but never to the extent that one of the parties can literally have the other executed if she wants to, but she chooses not to do so even when she imprisons her former friend.

i wrote a mini essay on this here, but the way in which they play with the rich girl/weird friend dynamic is also INSANE on a level i have yet to see anyone else touch really except maybe rhaenicent.

speaking of other posts i've made abt their dynamic being so fascinating, this one about the "i love zuko more than i fear you" line vs what atla's show canon actually demonstrates is something i think is vital to understanding what makes them so insane. and i do think it's unique, if only because of what the narrative wants to tell you vs what it actually shows you.

also, one of the most important things which i touched a little on earlier is just... the politics of atla as a setting for their relationship. that makes it 10x more compelling that azula is this tragic figure who is on the completely wrong side of history, a child soldier who fights for imperialism and racism and xenophobia because she has been indoctrinated and abused and made into a weapon, and mai is someone who fought alongside with her until it inconvenienced her to do so, then switched sides in the name of love without ever actually analyzing or critiquing her own beliefs about what her country was doing. mai chooses the good and moral side by choosing zuko (who also doesn't actually reflect internally and... gets to kind of just keep doing a friendlier imperialism when we look at the comics and lok, but that's another topic), but does she actually want that? does she actually believe in that? has she actually let azula go? the comics can try to whitewash her morality more by pretending she cares abt tom-tom and she's totally reformed, but the show doesn't actually support that, and with no material in-between to show us mai's redemption beyond her betraying azula, not because she cares abt what's good and right but because she cares abt zuko, we as an audience have no real reason to believe that.

so yeah, maizula is endlessly fascinating to me, and i wish a ship would be more interesting than them

#maizula #save

39 notes · View notes

mingiswow · 10 months

Text

What is Like to Be Alive | Choi Jongho

Pairing: Jongho x afab!gender neutral!reader

Words: ~3.4k

Genre: smut, fluff, dystopian, porn with a little of plot

Content Warning: mentions of death and torture, mention of arranged marriage, reader has a vagina

Smut warning: nipple play, unprotected sex, piv, creampie (don’t be stupid, protect yourselves)

A/n: we’ve reached the end of the dystopian/Halazia series!! I hope you enjoy this one. I was much softer on the actual smut scene and much more inspired by the plot lol. As always feedback is always welcomed 🥰

⚠ If you’re under the age of 18 and/or don’t feel comfortable reading that type of content, I have a lot of other content here.

⚠ English is not my native language, so pardon me if there’s any mistake. And you can always tell me what’s wrong.

You entered the cold crater, chills running down your spine as you looked at the usually full place completely empty. The hardened and crystallized salt formations pointing dangerously downwards, as if they were ready to fall on you and kill you.

Ever since running away from your family, you’ve been wandering around the villages near Halazia. If anyone living there knew your origins, they’d kill you. The child of one of the highest positioned men in the capital running away from the perfect life?

You didn’t blame them, they had all the right to think lowly of you. Or your family. After all, you were the ones enslaving their people. You hated yourself the same amount, maybe even more than them. You hated everything that had to do with you or your family or your life.

When you discovered your family promised you as currency trade to one of their business’ partners you were furious. Sure, you knew that marriages in your world were purely political, yet you couldn’t help but get mad at the broken promise your mother made before dying. Love.

You shook your head unconsciously trying to take those painful thoughts away. Eyes closing. Not noticing the other presence in the room watching you intently. A hunter looking for its prey. A brown bear watching the unaware salmon swim and jump on the river.

The improvised stage where he usually stood empty and cold, the warmth of his words of hope and dreams long gone. The white salty ground waiting for the man to come back and say his sweet words that sometimes not even himself believed.

You failed to notice or listen to him approaching you, only making himself noticeable when the words left his mouth.

“What are you thinking ’bout?” You turned around, smiling when you saw it was him standing there.

“Life” you simply answered.

It wasn’t a lie. But not completely the truth.

Jongho nodded and walked to your side on the stage, grabbing your right hand and caressing the skin too soft to be from one of the villagers. His calloused ones tickled yours wherever the rough patch touched. You liked the feeling.

“You’ve been more quiet than usual lately” he stated, bringing your body into his, hugging it. “There’s something bothering you? Someone perhaps?” You denied with a shake of your head.

You didn’t answer for a solid minute, just enjoying the warmth of his body fighting against the cold of the place to keep you warm.

“Just thinking of the past” you finally answered, mouth suddenly dry.

“The one you ran away from?” You nodded.

Jongho was the first one of the villagers that welcomed and sheltered you. His kind expressions and words made you feel more at home than you ever felt. He offered you a place to stay, food to eat and more than that, he offered you his heart.

It’s not official, or not even a real relationship as the ones you’ve read in the books, but you’ve been together for the past weeks. You don’t even know if he likes you like you like him, if you make his heart beat faster like he does to you. Or get his mouth dry whenever you are together due to nervousness. All you knew at that point is that you wanted to be with him. That he was good to you.

“You never explained to me the reason you left or even where you come from” his words stopped your train of thoughts, a deep sigh coming from you.

“It’s… I- I’m ashamed of my past. Of myself”

“It’s because you are on of the capital children?” You left his embrace, looking at his face, examining his expressions in fear. But you couldn’t read him. You never did. He wasn’t easy to decipher. Only a shy sly smirk dancing on his lips showing that he indeed knew your secret.

You tried to leave his arms but he was stronger than you, holding you in place, very close to him. Alert! Alert! That was the only thing on your mind. Red sirens screaming for you to run again. You were in danger.

You heard about the capital citizens that came to the villagers and were executed in front of everyone. A public event of revenge. Eye for an eye. You heard some of the villagers tell tales of the times when they would chain the riches in the middle of the central square, arms open in a cross like a scarecrow and left to endure any type of torture those people wanted before being burned. Dead or dead. No mercy.

“What? You thought I didn’t know?” Jongho held your body flush against his again, his strong hands holding your arms back, unable to move. “I know everyone around here, yn” your real name, not the one you’ve lied about. The way the letters came out of his lips was almost like he was ready to spit on you. “You thought I wouldn’t notice your nice clothes and soft skin? Even your housekeepers have better clothes than us so you expect not to notice how soft and well made the fabrics are?” You looked at his eyes, they seemed angry. They were obviously angry. You lied to him.

The tears started to prickle at the corners of your eyes, falling silently down your cold cheeks. You were doomed. But you knew sooner or later that day would arrive. You assumed the risks of running away. Of coming to the village and interacting with them.

“I’m sorry” it wasn’t as loud as a whisper, you didn’t even know if he listened. But if so, he kept talking without acknowledging the apology.

“Don’t you think I would go after your life and your registers after you just appeared mysteriously out of nowhere? Anyone from any nearby village knowing you. Anyone from the piers and harbors nearby sawing you coming from the far away lands. You truly thought you could hide yourself from the search of your kind?” His words were like daggers. One by one hitting your chest. You didn’t know why, he was the one betrayed, yet you felt like you were the victim. The pain in your chest showing that you had developed something more than just feeling of safety, peace and home. “Yet…” his voice cracked and you felt his body leave yours, a rush of ice cold air hitting where his body was in contact with yours. “Yet I can’t seem to find the strength to do anything to you. To denounce you to the council”.

Jongho gave two steps back away from you and sighed, hands running through his dark brown hair. Defeated. That’s how he felt. Defeated by his own senses. His own heart. His heart ached anytime he thought about what the council could do to you. Would do to you. Just the thought made his chest sink to his back and his mouth get dry.

“I… I will hand myself over. I am… I am the criminal here” the words got stuck down your lumped throat.

“No! I-“ he protested faster and louder than he intended. “I don’t want to lose you” his words caught you off guard.

You analyzed the man in front of you looking for any sign of lie or trap. But of course you couldn’t read him. His emotionless face stared at you, eyes glued to yours. You looked for any sign of anything. But nothing. Yet, your instinct told you he was telling the truth. He couldn’t lose you. Not after he lost so much already.

Jongho was an orphan, raised by foster family after foster family until he reached the age enough to work for himself. He moved into his first shared dormitory at 15, living with other orphans and abandoned kids that worked at the same property as him. He worked in a farm first, taking care of the animals then moving to the corn fields. When he reached his 18th, he moved near the more city-like part of the village, soon joining the rebels, the Guerrillas, as they called themselves. His job was to hunt capital citizens around the villages, look for infiltrators and take them to their leader. Two years after that he became the head of the hunters and the spokesperson of hope. That was how you met him and some of the other rebels and joined them.

The man doesn’t remember the last time he was truly happy with something outside the Guerrillas. Sure, he loved his brothers and his found family, their nights drinking and celebrating and looking for lovers for a night was always fun. But he missed something. Craved. Something he couldn’t explain. A feeling that would fill the gap in his chest.

A gap you slowly filled with ease. A gap that your warm smile and even warmer embrace closed permanently with the strongest of the glues. Locked. Sealed. With your smile inside. It wasn’t an easy quest, many of the villagers have tried their way into the man’s heart either because he truly was a handsome and appealing man or because they wanted the perks of being with one of the heads of the rebels. You, however, being an outsider and not knowing anything about their traditions and quiet laws, just reached Jongho for liking who he was. Sure, it was as a thank you in the beginning, a silent acknowledgement of his kindness to you. But your company became more and more expected from him. He waited for you to go cuddle him after a tough day at the headquarters, for the warm baths with honey and lavender you’d prepare for him and gently wash his hair while massaging his scalp humming some tunes you’ve heard at the last party you went together. Party that none of the others had a chance of dancing or drinking with him because he was too busy in his own little world with you.

No, he could not lose you. Not when he knew what he felt for you. How he felt for you.

“Do the others know? About me” you asked.

“Some of them, yes, we captured a soldier from the capital a few days ago with a picture of you” you nodded. “I’ve talked to them,” he started as if he knew what you wanted to ask even before opening your mouth “they are willing to let you live if you prove yourself useful”

“How can I do that? And what if the others find out and want my execution?”

“We’ll figure it out” he took steps back to you, his hands grabbed your right one again and brought to his lips, leaving a soft promising kiss on your knuckles. “Right now I want to know if my feelings are reciprocated” you smiled, not only from his words but from the way his eyes sparkled with hope and expectations.

You got on the tip of your toes and planted a soft and rather quick kiss on his lips. Just a few seconds, enough to taste each other.

“Does that answer you?” You asked and noticed the sly smile back on his lips.

His hands planted themselves on your hips, bringing your body back against his, his left hand leaving its place to go around the back of your neck to hold your head in place, fingers tangled with the hairs on the nape.

“Not enough. I need more proof” he spoke before attacking your lips, rougher, stronger, needier.

Your lips danced against each other, a sensual tango of open and close, breath as erratic as the nights you’d dance until your feet would hurt. Your hands held the fabric of his shirt tight against your fingers, trying to bring his body as close as humanly possible.

You weren’t even thinking when his tongue protruded inside your mouth being more than welcome with a hug from your own. Kiss messy and wet, all the built up tension being left there, engulfed by each other's mouth, down your throats and straight down to your cores.

Jongho suddenly lowered himself and grabbed your legs, pulling you to jump and wrap them around your waist. Kiss only breaking for you to leave a tiny squeal before going back to its previous acts. He slowly started to bend down the ground with you, gently laying your back in the hardened salty stage.

You were completely drunk by him, by his smell of sweat and testosterone, by the smell of the salt all around you in the cave. He hovered carefully on top of you, finally breaking the kiss to breathe and look at you. Your lips red and swollen, noses also red from the movements. But you couldn’t care less. All you cared about in that moment was what Jongho was making you feel like your body could melt the salt around you.

“I love you” he whispered, foreheads touching as his eyes, black with desire, shiny with love, stared into your soul. You could swear you could feel his love emanating from his eyes to yours. To his body to yours.

“I love you too, Jongho” you smiled, genuinely. Your hands going up to caress the oily strands of his hair.

He closed his eyes, face burying on your neck, nose inhaling your smell. Sweat, dirt, desire and love. The most intoxicating smell his nostrils could scent and his brain could register.

“I promise I’ll take care of you, nothing will happen to you” you nodded even though he couldn’t see you.

“I trust you”.

He lifted himself back up again, and kissed you. Soft and full of sentiments. Lips melting and molding to perfection to fit against yours. Jongho kept kissing you, the speed increasing each minute. Bodies heating up again. The desire, passion, lust, even stronger after shared promises of love and care.

While his left hand held him steady on top of you, his right one snaked inside your shirt, skin shivering with the sudden touch of his cold rough fingers against the warmth of your stomach. You two never broke the kiss as his hand made its way to your chest, lifting your shirt on the way.

His calloused fingers felt weirdly heavenly against the soft skin of your chest, kneading the volume and squeezing it. Once in a while the pads of his fingertips would squeeze your nipple, earning a few low whimpers against his lips.

After a while playing with your chest, he finally broke the kiss and pulled your shirt over your head, torso fully naked to him. He could swear your skin was glowing, tiny little constellations against your body, contrasting colors. Beauty.

The man shifted positions, putting you startled on top of him, your core dangerously close to his own. Warmth coming from the parts and arousing you two even more.

His lips made their way down your jaw, to your neck, little nibbles being left behind. Shades of purple and blue formed instantly wherever he was moments prior. A mark of your devotion to each other. To his devotion to you. Until his soft plump lips found your soft mound, placing it on his mouth. He felt in heaven, sucking, licking, biting. You weren’t anywhere different from heaven yourself. It was instinctual. The way your bodies worked on each other. As if they knew the ways, the secret codes.

You couldn’t control, not when Jongho was making you feel so good with just his mouth on your chest, and started to move your hips on his lap. The hardened member under the layers of fabric responding and making the man moan against your boob and bite the nipple. A moan leaving your own mouth.

It was a sweet delicious torture. But you wanted more. You needed more. You gripped his hair and pulled his head back, a deep low grunt leaving his throat. He looked so delicious like that, with his head thrown back, eyes black rolled to the back of his skull with your act. You released his hair with another grunt of the man, this time of disapproval, and pulled his shirt out of his body.

You had already seen Jongho shirtless but it never amazes you how his body was built. His chest well built and hard, but his belly soft and welcoming for your head to lay there. But those thoughts were placed behind your mind for another day. Tonight all you wanted was to have that man inside of you, taking and loving you in the most intimate way possible.

“Yn…” your name sounded different this time he said it, no resent of your lies, just heated love and lust. “I need your consent before we keep going” his hands held your sides, the weight of his fingers burning against your skin, marking you.

“Please, Jongho. Make love to me” he smiled and nodded.

He pulled you flush against his chest and put your back against the salty ground, the roughness of it hugging your back. Jongho took the last remaining pieces of your clothes, both of you naked, bare to each other. You forgot you were at the cave, anyone that walked in could see you two. But none of you cared. All you wanted was him. And all he wanted was you. The best win-win.

Jongho aligned the tip of his hard member, pre cum leaking from the red angry tip, and he slowly entered you, taking care not to hurt you. You two were so eager that you jumped stages, no preparation, no foreplay, you two just needed to be as close as possible. And him fully entering his hard cock inside you was the best way.

He waited still until your pulsing walls got used to his size. You barely got time to think too much of his size but he was definitely big, thick. The bigger you’ve seen and have been with.

You signaled for him to move. His appendage slowly leaving inside of you, making you feel empty until he flushed his hips back and put everything inside again. A loud moan left your throat, eyes closing and back arching. You were pretty sure your skin was going to be scratched from the friction with the ground but, again, you couldn’t care less. The only thing in your mind being the delicious way Jongho was fucking you full of him. His cock out slowly and entering in deep and strong movements. You were seeing stars. Planets. The whole galaxy.

His name became a mantra in your lips as he kept fucking you mercilesly, increasing his speed by every second. Your fingers were deep into the skin of his back, nails leaving tiny crescent marks on his tanned skin.

Jongho could feel his climax arriving, he wouldn’t last longer with the way your walls were engulfing him. His hand managed to get between your bodies so he could play with your clit, the little button hard and engorged with pleasure. Your legs tried to close against his hips when he started to draw shapes against it. The pleasure increasing to double. You felt that knot in your stomach started to pull. The pleasure blanking your mind and whitening your vision until you came. The silent moan never left your throat.

Your walls squeezed him hard, making him cum just after you, his color painting your insides that milked him until his last drop. His body fell on top of you, the weight heavenly against your tired body.

God knows how long you two stayed like that, his body on top of you, his soft member still inside of you. But if there was a heaven that’s how you were sure it felt.

He finally moved, leaving your body, the cold air of the cave hit your skin like a vice, pores bristling and making you gif yourself. The man came back with some piece of fabric, the softest he could find and cleaned you. Just when he was helping with your clothes you noticed he was already dressed.

“Jongho…” you whined, body starting to ache. He helped you stand on your feet, legs still wobbly.

“I’ll take you home and make a bath for both of us” you smiled and nodded.

You circled your arms around his neck and gave a soft peck on his lips. Both of you smiling like teenagers in love. The act innocent and silly next to what you just did minutes prior. You felt your cheeks heat up with the memory.

“Jongho” you called him again, loving the way his name sounded rolling out of your tongue. He loved the way you called him as well. “Thank you for loving me”

“Thank you for allowing me to love you”.

Mastelist | Requests and feedback

#kpop #kpop x reader #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #kpop headcanons #kpop smut #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez headcanons #ateez smut #ateez reactions #jongho #choi jongho #jongho x reader #jongho smut #jongho scenarios #jongho reactions #jongho headcanons

102 notes · View notes

gizkasparadise · 3 months

Note

What are your top five xianxia cdramas? And, on the other end, what are your top five historical kdramas (any time period - I'm not well versed in this to know the various types names yet xD)? Oh, and lastly, your top five drama recs that are the most (generally) underrated? Thanks!

nice!

TOP FIVE XIANXIA (& I'M ALSO GONNA INCLUDE XUANHUAN)

love and redemption. girl meets boy. boy's part of a cursed theatre troupe and part of masochism tango of reincarnation with girl that lasts 10 life times. girl is actually kind of the god of war. crack, gender reversal, gender fuckery at large, feminist and queer friendly. incredible OST. just all-around one of my favorite dramas ever.

lost you forever (part 1). a xuanhuan vs. xianxia, but im not passionate enough about 5 xianxia for this list lol. another drama with gender fuckery. a fantastic FL and beautiful relationship building (and unbuilding) and character-driven story. dont even need the second part for this to be a favorite!!

love between fairy and devil. all those tropes you fucking loved when you were like 13 on ff.net given a lot of heart and near-perfect execution (aside from that ending). awesome characters, beautiful costumes and art direction. super addicting and bingeable

the legends. bai lu playing a powerhungry demoness and acquiring a dysfunctional harem in the process. xu kai looking like a sad blue-haired puppy. a monk that creates an entire demon because he has 1 boner. sismance. i had a lot of fun with this one and pointedly did not watch the last 5 or so eps lol

till the end of the moon. there's parts i genuinely hate and would not watch ever again. there's parts that are fucking incredible. sort of like the main couple, i have a love/hate relationship with this drama but when it hits it really hits

honorable mention: eternal love/10 miles of peach blossoms (xianxia fuckery at its finest weighed down somewhat by tedious side plots and one of the most infuriating 2nd FLs of all time)

TOP FIVE HISTORICAL KDRAMAS

gaksital/bridal mask. set in the 1930s. inverse character arcs between the hero and villain. dysfunctional romance amped up to the nth level. high stakes, high consequences, and a cast full of well-developed and written characters. bring tissues

empress ki. girl crushing and girl bossing her way through two kingdoms, one of the best FLs of all time. with her is a besotted baby enemy emperor and a Noble Good besotted powerless king as she goes from slave to smuggler to concubine to empress. chef's kiss

the princess' man. you want feral wrecks for your male leads? female leads ready to throw down in a parking lot? if you like lovers to enemy (?) lovers and star-crossed romances this one is a must

the king loves. this one's also on my underrated list. the first 4ish eps are a chore, but if you get past them you have the love triangle to end all love triangles, interesting palace politics with a fascinating "evil" empress, and im siwan getting to go a lil unhinged as a treat. it's the definition of an idol drama but gd did i love this and i binged the hell out of it no regrets

mr sunshine. le cinema!!! an interesting time in history (1870s-1880s) with a wide range of flawed but compelling characters centered around one of the most badass FLs of all time. winner of the #1 second lead syndrome contest for me with dong mae. only downfall to this one is i felt negative chemistry with the endgame ship but the show is good enough without it

honorable mention: chicago typewriter isnt on this list because it's only kind of half a historical drama BUT OMG WATCH IT. it's in my top 3 kdrama and while it has a slow build once it kicks off it fucking goes off

TOP FIVE UNDERRATED DRAMAS

the king loves as mentioned above. i think why it has a lower rating is the first handful of eps are kind of a snoozefest and there's a bit of an upset with the romance (which i was 900% for). but it's a fucking fun ride and full of awesome goryeo palace drama adventures

kairos. not underrated, since it has decent scores on reviewer sites, but underhyped? not enough people have seen this one and it's an incredible time-travel thriller that i found way more interesting than other popular dramas of its type like signal

cheese in the trap. the ending's a hot mess, but compared to how some 2020-onward dramas are ending it's poetry. a solid adaptation of a really great webtoon, awesome cinematography, and one of the few dramas ive seen that actually capture the campus/college life experience right

discovery of romance. the emotional cheating element causes a lot of folks to hate it/jump ship, but i love this one (and gd BOTH the fl and ml emotionally cheat ftr he's not innocent in this hot mess). jung yumi + eric mun are one of my favorite kdrama duos and they kill it, and kim seulgi plays an incredible second female lead

when a man falls in love. man people HATED this one but i think it's a blast when you're in the mood for mess + gangsters. if you're into watching fucked up romances with severe power imbalances and the dysfunction that follows, this one's for you. it's not perfect but definitely not deserving of its 6.8 MDL rating (gd!)

#asks!#cdrama #kdrama #long post

24 notes · View notes

yanderes-galore · 10 months

Note

Alright. It's a Rojka 'Kasaan (Halo: Envoy) scenario, with the reader being an envoy/diplomat he meets after becoming one himself. Romantic, could lean platonic too.

Sure! I haven't finished the book but I do know the plot as I watched a really good summary twice. I love the views this book shows in Halo lore so I tried my best to keep him in character! One of my favorites for sure! If something is wrong, please help me figure out how to make him more in character! :) Warning, this is lengthy and NOT proofread, I apologize in advance.

I SUGGEST THIS BOOK A TON- Thank you so much for the request :) Here's a summary for those who need some background!

Spoilers for Halo: Envoy (Loose AU after the end of the book)

Fresh Start

Yandere! Rojka 'Kasaan Scenario (Halo: Envoy)

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Human/Sangheili pairing, Obsession, Rojka is getting used to more civilian/envoy life, Dubious companionship, Death mention, Grief, Inner turmoil, Mentions of violence, Possessive thoughts, Dubious relationship, Tame yandere due to the time period (Could probably try to make him worse, idk-), Manipulation mention.

The title of Envoy was much different from his previous title of Kaidon. Rojka didn't mind too much as Melody had shown him how influential the role is in a place like Carrow. Especially if you are still trying to smooth over previous conflicts between two cities.

Rojka had struggled with the less hectic lifestyle at first. Sangheili were not used to negotiations but Rojka had learned a lot. After the whole Carrow Conflict he'd learned there was benefits to working with humans.

He used to hate the species for his homeworld... but vengeance had long since left his mind after working with the Spartans....

His new title as Envoy has taught Rojka how to speak with Sangheili and humans alike. Some were still hesitant about making deals with the other, but some had favored the idea. Rojka wondered if Melody had felt like this with him or any others....

This new job and title had allowed Rojka to meet new people. He became less aggressive when acknowledging others and even met fellow diplomats. Meetings between Suraka and Rak for negotiations were frequent after the whole civil war.

Most of them felt plain to Rojka. Humans and Sangheili speaking amongst each other over political affairs between the two cities. Various topics such as shipments and repairs.

Then Rojka met you, another Envoy sent to oversee these meetings and bring up issues. The Sangheili Envoy was both intrigued about this human yet hesitant. Even months after the conflict he still struggles with his opinions of humans.

Although he did enjoy them more than he did prior due to Melody explaining the similarities of the two species and their issues.

You were human, like most of the diplomats. There were some other Sangheili diplomats but not many. As said before, not all Sangheili preferred negotiations on Carrow.

Despite you being human Rojka found himself drawn to you. The way you held yourself and spoke with authority impressed him despite you being so much smaller than him. You may not be a fighter... but your voice could make many turn heads.

He was initially a bit anxious about how you'd treat him, which was strange for him. Yet when you spoke with him, cranking your neck upwards to meet his gaze, you treated him as you would any other. Negotiations were negotiations, at least in the eyes of politics you were friends.

Rojka could never manage to pry his eyes away from the outfit you wore as an Envoy. He himself wore different armor from his Kaidon days, his head now adorned with a grey crest on his helmet. He wasn't sure why his eyes kept flicking to your outfit....

As diplomats to humanity, Rojka actually talked to you a lot. Most of which was related to your titles and jobs. Occasionally conversation within Suraka between you two would shift to more casual.

Rojka would have issues trying to make his speech more suited for human understanding. You both spoke Sangheili due to the job but sometimes phrasing came off more aggressive than intended. He learned that when he made an offer with Melody... one that put her off for a moment according to her actions.

Rojka never imagined he'd be so interested in a human such as you. Even with Melody he never thought to ask about a human's life. He wasn't expecting you to ask about his.

Luckily you respected him enough not to pry into his history... something he respected. You respected him, too... you liked his motive of peace. He even remembered your words when he told you his purpose for joining as an Envoy.

"I admire that you want best for your people. As an Envoy, it's our goal to maintain such peace times. You made a great choice."

Such simple words from your mouth... but something about how you said it made it stick with him. Rojka learned to observe the similarities and differences between you when he became an Envoy. When it came to you... it made him even more interested.

Part of Rojka hoped that you two could set aside the sins of your species collectively to grow closer. He wasn't sure why he wanted to be so close to you.... It was actually quite the foreign thought of Sangheili and humans being as close as the two of you.

Rojka liked that you two could be considered more than allies. In your words you considered him a "friend". When you said that it made the Sangheili a bit warm.

He liked that you trusted him as not only a fellow diplomat, but a friend. Trust... he always found it hard to come by during the Sangheili civil war on Carrow. Even now he originally struggled with it.

But having such a bond is important to being an Envoy.

Melody and you had opened him up to trust again. It had made him grow into his new title. He... felt very attached to the two humans.

He held Melody in high regard due to her role in the Carrow Conflict. Although you were the human who managed to make him feel... odd. It wasn't just respect he felt towards you.

His feelings felt more akin to how he'd feel towards another of his own. You may be smaller, weaker, softer... that didn't matter to him. He just wish he knew how deep this connection went.

Did he like you like a warrior? Perhaps the feeling was more similar to that of a mate? The thought perplexed him but for a moment it was considered.

Rojka felt inner turmoil when his eyes flicked to you. The Sangheili knew he enjoyed your presence despite not knowing how. He found himself making an effort to appeal to you at times, too.

It was little things. Things that he didn't notice at first. Like when he lowered himself to meet you at eye level or offered to accompany you on diplomatic trips to Rak. At first he thought it was done out of respect, you are small and he knows Rak more than you.

Then the thought of him caring came to mind again.

Was it really that farfetched? He'd always yearned for somewhere to belong, a homeworld to live on... and comrades to care for. After the death of Thars, the traitor, and many others... it wasn't too hard to think he wanted another connection.

You brought out something in him. An urge that drove the Envoy to come closer. Something made him want to... how does he describe it?

The Envoy wasn't sure. Each time you came up to him he felt like he wanted to hold you. Such an action was not common in his species but he had seen other humans do it to show care.

Even as an Envoy the Sangheili showed a desire to defend. Being a diplomat held dangers, like assassins or arguments. Such threats made his mandibles twitch when they were aimed towards you.

While diplomats are not typically armed, he still knew physical contact. It's surprising how fast the Sangheili would shoot from his seat to stand beside you if you were threatened. His thoughts were clear in these moments, he still had a fighting spirit harnessed to defend you.

As a Sangheili it was hard to drop his past of violence. It's in his nature to get a bit hostile towards situations. As a result, Rojka would be on edge if someone mentioned you.

Murder, dishonorable killing, has been something he's refused. But the idea of killing others around you has flashed across his mind more than once. He's kept such thoughts to himself, but seeing other's speak to you makes him grimace.

Rojka wishes he could figure you out. Why do you spark urges within him? You make him yearn for duels and bloodshed in your name... you make him want to pledge himself to you.

While Rojka deals with his emotions you only ever notice his silence. When you do, you take him by the large hand and call his name. Such an act pulls him back into the conversation, yet his gaze is now on the hand engulfed by his own.

Rojka does not regret meeting you. Not in the slightest. You may spark conflicting thoughts within him as a human but he could not bear to let you go. No... Rojka wants you to know you and him are destined.

Someday, Rojka hopes to explore his care for you more. He hopes to never part from you as an Envoy. He hopes he'll never have to give you up, ever, like the most of his brethren.

The thought of his homeworld still brings pain...

"Rojka." Your voice cuts through his thoughts like an Energy Blade. How long had be been... reminiscing?

"...yes?"

"Another moment caught in your thoughts?"

Rojka pauses. Why should he think of any of this now? All that matter now is here and now. All that matters is you...

Oh how he hopes to keep you....

"Yes."

"Care to talk about it in private?"

His mandibles twitch. He couldn't tell you any of this- How would you perceive such emotions? Surely you would be put off by his... obsessive and possessive intentions as of late?

"No..."

"I understand. I do not wish to pry. I am just concerned is all. I can leave you to it if you wish?"

Rojka says nothing. Those words make his thoughts bubble again but he says nothing. All he wants to do is stare.

Clearly... he admires you in some way. He doesn't care how as of now. He slowly begins to accept the fact he likes the idea of you. He likes the idea of being around you. He even tosses around the idea of keeping you to himself someday....

You pull away a bit only for Rojka to reach out and grasp your arm. You pause, looking at his grip. Your eyes then trail up to the face of the Sangheili.

"Stay."

He utters a brief phrase and you comply. You may make him feel complex but he doesn't want to drive you away. In fact... he takes his chance and pulls you close beside his armored body.

He doesn't want you to leave ever, actually...

It's cruel to think but Rojka thinks of ways he can make such thoughts happen. You both have power but he may have more with his connections. If he did want something with you he could always pull a few strings.

The thought makes him a bit sick. How dishonorable. How could he think of such a thing? Why did he want to isolate you? Why did he want to force you to stay with him?

His thoughts are knocked loose again when you shuffle against him. He freezes when he sees you look up and smile. Did he... make you feel similarly?

Yes... this was why he wanted to keep you. You'd make a great alliance. This was why he wanted you to himself.

He doesn't notice himself wrap an arm around you to pull you closer. No one should bother asking what you're doing. He'll silence them.

It's decided... Rojka will do whatever it takes to make you his own.

Even if it means returning to his past of bloodshed... he'll keep up the peace, yet he's keeping you too.

#yandere halo books #yandere halo #yandere halo envoy #yandere sangheili #yandere alien/human #yandere rojka kassan

56 notes · View notes