#I tried I hope this is sorta interesting lol

[aflamethatneverdies]

@coelenterata replied to your post “oh I wanna do any of those fandom asks things if...”:

I've also been fairly absent hi I'm glad to see (?) you!! Don't know what's happening either except the 2023 LM emails readalong thing. I do not have asks posts at hand but you have been reblogging blorbos I don't know and now I'm Curious, so that is my asks post unaffiliated ask

​*waves* Hi!! Good to see (?) you too!!! I hope you'll be around for a while at least now? Ahh! I forgot the Les Mis emails were starting. I might sign up--I need to get back to reading fiction again-- I miss reading books. ;_;

ohhh-- where to even begin about blorbos lol!! I've been having a lot of discussions about the space pirate blorbos with @midautumnnightdream and working on a fic for them-- because what else do you do with feels, but I still don't really know how to describe them lol.

They're from a Super Sentai show called Kaizoku Sentai Gokaiger, and they're space pirates with an 18th Century Galleon in space (I don't know how it works and I have a lot of questions, but also I love it) and they are in opposition to the Empire called Zangyack, with a really spoiled aristocrat as well as his dad leading the Empire. Our story starts when the space pirates come to Earth to look for the greatest treasure in the Universe, and face the Zangyack who are also invading this backwater planet, lol, after having invaded most of the Universe.

From left to right: Luka, Ahim, Gai, Marvelous, Joe and Doc (and also Navi who is very much not a bird)

(Minor spoilers as well some of my general headcanons for them below)

The blorbos themselves all come from different planets that have been destroyed or colonised by the Zangyack Empire (except for Gai who is from Earth). We get traumatic backstories for all of them which made me love them even more. They have lived through so much before we meet them, but they get to be heroes and finally they accept the magicalness of the barricades in their final fight and become larger than life themselves, part of the Super Sentai-- while rejecting the label of heroes for themselves. As a result, they come across as very mature and understanding of what it takes to be a resistance group against a colonial Empire, and how difficult it is to promise anything like they can win.

Marvelous is the captain of the Gokaigers and also dresses extremely in an pirate aesthetic which I love and want so badly-- Autumn and I talk about pirate!gender to refer to whatever gender shenanigans are happening, because so much of all of them and especially Marvelous' entire aesthetic feels personally to me, like not fully fitting in gender binaries, someone once made art of a girl!Marvelous dressed exactly the same and it worked so well.

Since they are aliens and also outside society, there is no reason why they should follow the binary construct. Pirates do what they want. And they also reject gender roles to a great extent, Doc and Gai love to cook, so they cook but it's their thing, and no one is made fun of for that or belittled. Ahim has a cute feminine fashion sense but she everyone respects her as an important member of the team and a rebel/fighter in her own right, and this is especially true when her family's and her planet's murderer/destroyer appears in front of them-- she gets to go apeshit feral and seek revenge.

And so much of, because none of them have planets or families to go back to, they are all each other's most important people as well as a found family with really close bonds and it shows, they give each other space to do things, they know when something is wrong with one of them. They also don't seem to have any hierarchy on the ship as such that I can see in the series, and rely on consensus based decisions and listening to each other-- very anarchist pirates, lol!

I ship them in a polycule because they work so well in it, but they work so well as capital R Romantic friends too, especially because their whole deal is to make everything really showy and over the top.

Also, Marvelous and Joe get extremely flirty lines in the series as well as the ten year after film and even the actors in interviews were going, yeah, they are like that. And Ahim and Luka feel so close in ways that well, it's not not shippy. I like when the series gives us something but leaves a lot of it unspoken, so there are all these different ways that they can work if you want to ship them but they very much feel queer even without the shipping aspect. They constantly reject social norms and conventions.

They are all rebels who have come together to fight a colonising Empire, which also gives me soo many feels and the Empire is bad, and no one gives justifications for it, which feels soo cathartic honestly. It's also such prime material for worldbuilding of their home planets and to attach worlds I am already familiar with and give blorbos all of that to deal with. I have a lot of headcanons about their worlds too but this is already super long, lol.

I'm always willing to talk more about them though. Thank you so much for asking!! <3

[munamania]

so guys um. really fun update as a result of me once again being really good at understanding and responding to social situations. im pretty sure the friend im seeing is convinced we r like in a relationship or About to be and im just now realizing the extent of that and how quickly im slamming the brakes/going to attempt for smth more casual. um.. girl help

[plumipal]

I just had a thought- how would Grim and the ramshackle ghosts feel about all the stuff happening to us?

Especially if the yandere(s) are coming over to our dorm too! Would they, depending on the severity of the yandere and their specific actions, range from supporting it cuz yknow reader gets to be happy with someone who treats them well and loves them to concerned because sweetie please get yourself outta there 😭

I can imagine Grim is NOT alright with it and for a multitude of reasons, they are taking away your time with HIM, and once he pays more attention to the bigger picture? Yeah messed up things be occasionally happening that could very well hurt you!! He does not like that!!!

im just imagining Grim being visibly not alright and reader will not have it either when it comes to him, they are a PACKAGE deal and that is that no matter which yandere comes their way 🗣️

we have many people more alright with Grim being reader’s number one priority, or yknow silently(?) wishing it was them, poor Grim and Reader man encountering yandere after yandere 😭

Grim would give us a look if we expressed any sort of romantic interest in any yandere I think lol

‘Pologies if it was too long or ranty, though I am curious who you think would be the most and least alright with this? I imagine Leona and Ace (legally required to bring up Ace he’s my all time fav next to Grim) would NOT like it lmao

.. first off, this is the longest ask ive ever gotten, I gotta just say oml thank you so much????? You, wrote all of this, fpr me?? 🥹🥹🥹💖💖💖 this literally made my week thank you so much bestie 🥹😭 second off, this inspired me to rant too, I hope you enjoy!- (not proofread btw)

So im mainly gonna focus on grim, no offence to ramshackle ghost fans, I just really like the silly little fire-cat/rat/weasel/creature. He was literally our first friend, our first companion (I bet Ace and grim bicker on who was your first).

And oh boy, guy is NOT HAPPY when he sees all these dumbasses vying for your attention and either trying to butter him up with tuna (which will not work on the mighty grim!) or ugnore him completely! Like you stated you and him are a package deal! Get the prefect and get their silly hungry companion!!

Now, grim surely uses his position as your closest companion as a safety net, they can't kill off the closest you have to family in this world! Guess they gotta live with him if they wanna have a life with you.

Ace hates that grim was your friend before him, feeling annoyed whenever he bullied (Juice) Deuce about being friends with you before him only for grim to butt in. Ace isn't too annoyed with grim though, and grim thinks that Ace is one of the better choises of the roster you have, they're both friends after all.

Of course most students in the cast don't liek "sharing" you with grim, especially the more territorial ones. Leona is probably the worst, I mean come on they're both feline looking creatures. With scent being a heavy thing for felines (yes even beastmen dont come at me) Leona is not happy to have his scent on you be muddied by the little rodent (the greatest mage of all, grim). Probably the worst choise since they're just gonna bicker to the end of the world..

Floyd doesn't like this either! Not fair that he has to share!! And with grim no less.. Floyd results in biting you instead of scenting, his chompers being good for nibbling on you. He also has the advantage that grim is sorta afraid of him (honestly who wouldn't be? Especially yan Floyd...).

Kalim tries to brime grim, with anything he could ever think off! Unlimited tuna for grim, and the best there is as well!! Nything grim could ever want on a silver platter, only if grim let's kalim marry you! That alone doesn't sound too bad, but that unsettling horrifying servant that follows Kalim around. He knows what jamil can do, and he sure does NOT want you with that dude!- guy is manipulative and creepy (he would definelty seperate you and grim!-)

Malleus... Malleus scares grim, guys is honestly horrifying. Threatening to curse him into an eternal slumber so he can whisk you away from him, he doesn't want that! You would also get sad id malleus did that, so luckily the possessive dragon had to share (for now...)

Whoever you choose, grim would probably disapprove, guy thinks of you as family (he will never admit that tho). He cares about you, and he is not okay with the invasion of privacy from these teenagers! >:(

I know you didn't ask fpr any drawing or such, but I couldn't help myself sorry 🤭 hope you like my ramblings back at you!

[sharkieboi]

made a deal with an aberration thing in DnD tonight and I don’t think either the DM or the other players were expecting my character to accept so that was fun on all fronts

[alex-rambles]

For personality for someone into cryptid academia, I’d say the reader be almost like dipper but sorta different? Like keeps to themselves, overall loves walking in the woods. And also thinks like ford.

Also here are pictures

Thanks for the info! I like how there was a journal 3 in there lol. I did the Pines + Bill because i wasn't sure which characters you'd want

Gravity Falls characters with a cryptid academia s/o

Dipper

🌲Your aesthetic may actually have been what caught his eye to begin with

🌲He likes it a lot

🌲Would love taking walks in the woods with you, hoping to come across a supernatural sighting or two.

🌲He adores pouring over The Journal™ with you, looking for creatures you should hunt for next

🌲Very happy to find someone who shares his interest in the supernatural and the outdoorsy stuff

Mabel

🌠Supports your interest despite not sharing them

🌠Def enjoys going on hikes and nature walks with you though, and likes to listen to their stories and theories about the supernatural

🌠Even though she might call Dipper a nerd for displaying some similar traits, you're her s/o so that sibling teasing does not apply to you

🌠When you're on walks she gets distracted by cute animals so you'll probably have to either let her stare and try to pet them or attempt to reign her back in

Stanely

💰Bro compares you to Ford constantly

💰Not in a purposefully mean way he just likes to tease you jokingly

💰You may end up developing a friendship with Ford after Stan introduces you to him

💰And then you and Ford continue talking

💰aNd STAN GETS JELOUS BECAUSE YOU'RE SO SIMILAR

💰So he tries to get into that stuff for you

💰And buys you the clothes the match your aesthetic (only the cheap ones ofc. If he doesn't have enough he either shoplifts or steals from Ford)

Ford

✋Like Dipper, your aesthetic probably caught his eye

✋He sees something of a "partner" in you

✋BIG BRAIN DUO

✋He could spend HOURS talking about the supernatural with you

✋You probs find his six fingers thing cool so he feels comfortable around you

✋After all, most people bullied him for it

Bill

👁Bill is the cryptid you were looking for

👁He will explain all about his home dimension to you if you find it intriguing. If it were anyone but you'd he'd give a vague response about "liberation something something," but you're you sooooo

👁You like hiking? He'll make a mindscape hike trail for you to do together

👁During Weirdmaggedon he'll force his henchmaniacs to let you study them

👁He might make one little area of the forest normal so you can hike in the real world and obliterate anything that dares step into the area

👁In the mindscape he likes to try to scare the shit out of you with eldritch-esque creatures, but it doesn't work because a) not real, and b) you want to sTUDY tHE tHING

[waterrunner]

SDV Bachelors headcanons

how each bachelor acts around the new farmer/crush

Sebastian+Sam+Alex

Sebastian

He is 100% an introvert and a more “cold” type of guy but I feel he would a a special soft spot for his crush, you.

He first met you when you came to robins house after finding her lost axe. He had been out of his room to get something to drink and was heading back to his room when you walked in.

He had heard of the new farmer in town but had no interest in them, but now… his interest was peaked.

After that day he found himself getting out more and actively trying to find you, especially during festivals and special events. He really enjoys showing off his pool skills when you’re in the saloon at the same time he’s playing pool with Sam. He goes red in the face if you compliment his amazing skills too- Sam and Abigail won’t ever let him live it down either.

If/when you catch him smoking he becomes sorta embarrassed. He doesn’t necessarily want you knowing he does something deemed “bad”. But if you smoke too, he’ll be less embarrassed- but he will then be concerned for you.

Sam

He first met you when you were walking out in the town trying to meet everyone. He was skateboarding and almost ran straight into you. He of course apologized- or well, tried too. Your beauty, and the fact he had never seen you before, caught him off guard and left him sorta speechless.

“Oh shit- am so sorry, I didn’t.. see… wow” is all he sorta got out before just sorta staring at you. It took a moment for him to snap out of it and realize you were talking to him

“Oh, right. I’m Sam” he had quickly said while sticking his hand out for you to shake. “Your must be the new farmer, huh? Well nice to meet you” he said with a sorta dazed look. He even kept staring as you walked off and out of his sign(bro was entranced).

After that he’s normally a flustered mess around you, but he is trying to act cool the entire time. It gives Abigail and Sebastian second hand embarrassment the stuff he says/does in front of you to try and impress you.

He one time tried doing a skateboard move in front of you, he move he had never done before. Long story short he landed right on his face and gained a bloody nose, you did However run over to him and make sure he was ok and helped him back to his house. Abigail and Sebastian NEVER let him live it down…

Alex

He had came home after going to the beach one day and you were in his house giving his grandma some fresh fruits and vegetables.

He immediately noticed your bright and dazzling smile and the way you seemed genuinely happy to help someone.

Before you left he had came up and introduced himself and got your name. He was sorta being a jerk without realizing it tho…. But it’s ok because he’ll get better the more you get to know him.

That night he sorta just laid in bed and kept picturing your smiling face and how happy you were to meet him. He didn’t realized you liked you tho… he just thought he really wanted to be your friend…

After that He constantly ask if you wanna play some sort of sport with him or workout with him, which you often have to decline because of how demanding working on the farm is. The few times you have accepted were quite fun tho.

He is constantly boasting about how strong and athletic he is, how he’s gonna go pro one day, and how he’s a ladies man…. He does like hearing about your work on the farm tho. He believes it would be a good workout for him to come help you some days(totally not because he wanna hangout with you).

I hope this wasn’t toooo bad for my first actual post lol. If there’s any critiques or constructive criticisms am completely ok with it, just please be nice about it.

[doughliciousfrosting]

Your tmnt au meeting Monkey kid and the gang?

I think you're talking about my 2012 TMNT designs? Which I understand, theyre really far from canon HELPP but they're not really an au 😭 or they were never really meant to be. Anyways I have a lot of thoughts and I could explain why I picked each character and paired them up with each other and if I can I'll definitely draw the rest of them!!

I'll explain right now why I paired Mei with Donnie and Tang with April

First and foremost though,

⚠️ NONE OF THESE ARE SHIPS ⚠️

With that out of the way I'll start with why I paired Mei and Donnie. I like to think that Mei is a super good builder and tbh, this is actually pretty canon. We see her rebuild her bike in S1 Ep 3 and in S1 Ep1 she's also the one who builds their secret fortress which is INCREDIBLY made. With this information in mind it can be quick to assume Mei is a pretty good mechanic! In S3 of 2012 TMNT we know that Casey and Donnie spend a lot of time in the small barn out back working on stuff both seperately and at times together! While I do think Casey can understand some of the tech jargon Donnie talks about (as long as it relates to car parts) I don't think Casey can really understand the technical stuff. I think Casey's knowledge probably comes from self taught experience, as a result he can identify each part and what they do but not the technical terms for them and professional blueprints for things and stuff. Which is why I think Donnie would be absolutely ecstatic to have someone able to read his work!! And like I said earlier Mei is really good with tech as we see a lot in the earlier seasons before they delved hard into mystic magic and stuff. I would have paired Mei with Casey but I have other ideas grrr!!! If people are interested I'll explain more.

Moving on to why I paired Tang with April! I kinda rewrote April a lot HELP I think her writing had a lot of problems so I just changed stuff lol. I like to think that the reason April tried so hard to prove herself and stuff was because she doesn't want to be useless. I feel like she gets sorta babies a lot (mainly by her father) and it makes her want to overachieve to prove a point, prove that she's grown and that she's perfectly capable of handling herself. The problem though is the years of fighting experience she lacks. In a normal situation April can 100% take care of herself but in ones where she faces opponents with a lifetime's experience in combat versus her measily 1 and a half years the difference is huge. And on top of this April has to figure out her psychic powers, which in S4 literally blew up in her face. I just think she struggles with feeling inadequate, when she does something she wants to be the best and it's hard for her to feel like she has a place in the team when everyone else seems not to struggle the way she does in battle. She just tends to forget the difference in fighting experience even though they're all the same age. Anyways, being unsure of ur worth on the team and struggling with your powers seems like it would be right up Tang's alley!! Tang in S3 Ep8 has a huge tipping point where we see he struggles with self doubt and feeling like he isn't needed. Then later when he discovers he has powers he struggles to control them and get them to do what he wants. I think Tang reassuring April is just a really nice gesture!! Especially since Tang and April are like the most human out of the rest of the group (excluding Casey but he struggles in a different way). I think in a group full of spectacular talents, it's easy to feel ordinary which is a thought I think plagues Tang and April's minds while their characters develop. I tried to keep this short so I hope it makes sense ahhh if you're still reading you're totally awesome and cool!!!

[andromedastarrs]

Hey i have a request what would be the type of partner for miguel o’hara ? Thanks if you write this

Miguel O'Hara's Type (S/O) - SFW Headcanons

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Hey Anon!! You're my very first Anon lol this is so very exciting for me, I hope you enjoy my headcanons for Mr.O'Hara's type!!🤞💙❤️

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Miguel doesn't date people for the way they look - so if you're hoping for him to look your way because you're conventionally attractive you're outta luck.

What I mean by this is that he's definitely more of the type to look at someone's actions/inner beauty.

I think Miguel likes individuals that are independent, financially and whatnot. I don't picture him as the type to enjoy babying (I mean this as in taking care of everything for them lol) his partner. However that does NOT mean that he doesn't enjoy getting them gifts and helping them out when they need it.

I think he'd want his partner to be patient. It's no secret that he can be explosive when angry and can sort of act like there's a switch in his head when it comes to his emotions, so having someone that is naturally patient is something that he would definitely look for.

I think he'd look for someone who has different interests/hobbies than him. I feel like he gets bored easily, so having an S/O that has interests he knows little about would peak his curiosity and would sorta act like brain food?? Does that make sense?

In general he would look for someone who is the tender opposite of him, tender meaning that you'd have to be different enough to be interesting but not too different to where you guys have clashing opinions on absolute everything.

Miguel is noooooooot into excessive public PDA, so he'd look for someone who shares that same opinion as him. He doesn't mind hand holding, making each other laugh in public, etc, but he will absolutely never do anything raunchy in public-

Doesn't like pessimistic people.

He'd look for someone who puts effort into their hygiene and general public appearance. AGAIN he is not into people just for their looks, but he IS into people who care about how they present themselves. Does that make sense?? Like he doesn't care if you're Goth, Emo, Coquette, "Basic", etc - he'd be into any aesthetic as long as his partner smells nice and has a cohesive look. (I tried my best to explain but hopefully you get the pic.)

Definitely not into lazy people or people who lack life goals- he wants someone who has a reason to keep going at it in life. Also... don't make him your reason to keep going, he wants you to be independent of him, remember?

I think he'd like people who are into skincare because I headcanon that he's into that 😭🙌. No this does NOT mean he is only looking for someone with clear skin, people can have good skincare routines and still have acne, etc.

He'd look for someone who accepts his past obviously. Also I say this because I think that his backstory is something that's gonna have him traumatized till the end, meaning that idk how he'd feel about kids with his S/O...is it just me that thinks he wouldn't be into it? I think he'd be too scared of losing either you or the possible kid, so instead he'd rather avoid having them again.

(On that note, if you are someone who wants kids I think he'd slowly, but genuinely consider it. He'd probably go to therapy to make sure he's in the right headspace as well.)

Is it a controversial headcanon to say that I don't think Miguel would look for a specific gender to date? I think he'd just genuinely look for a connection.

He'd look for someone who's an early bird like him, he wants to wake up around the same time as his S/O. However I don't think this applies to bedtime, since he has work to do and probably stays up late, he wouldn't wanna hurt his S/O's physical health.

Sorry guys I do not think Miguel likes pets, I think he likes his home tidy and clean. I think he'd lose a sense of control after everything that happened to him, and having a clean home gives him back some sense of control of his life. Maybe a few years into the relationship (after you've moved in) he'd be ok with pets but definitely not at the start.

Also, just because he doesn't want pets doesn't mean he isn't good with animals.

He'd look for someone who is a foodie, I think Miguel is one himself, so he'd look for someone that has the same eating habit of trying new foods. He'd also want this because I think he'd like making them try out recipes. :')

He'd look for someone who doesn't mind quiet days where the both of you barely talk but enjoy each other's presence.

It's no secret that Miguel has an erratic schedule, so he'd love to find someone with a very flexible schedule so that they could always make time for eachother. :')

Unless you are genuinely mature for your age (21+ acting/behaving 26+, don't be weird, thanks) I don't think he'd go for someone significantly younger than him. 🤞Also I think him being 27 makes sense but idek how old this man is because I can't find a certain answer anywhere.

He'd look for someone who can make him laugh. 🥹 He needs more happiness in his life.

On that note he definitely likes people that are optimistic and happy, people who just radiate warm energy. People that are genuinely kind.

Does not like people who try to purposely annoy him, sorry folks.

Also, yes he's handsome. But I headcanon that he wouldn't want someone who's just into him because of the way he looks. And he can always tell.

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[riddle-me-ri]

I love your penguin fics so much I would like to request a fic of btas penguin introducing his s/o to his dear friend Eddie, but gets jealous when they get along so well (the riddler can be rather charming after all)

a/n: this gives me flashbacks to when I did a scenario of eddie stealing reader away after oz turned them away, but thankfully that won't be the case here lol. This story sorta took on a life of it's own so the length maybe crazy and I tried ending this in like three different ways..so sorry if it’s kind of a mess lol BUT I hope y'all enjoy!

Word Count: 1.1k

Content Warning: envious emotions, brief mention of violence, nothing too crazy mosty fluff here folks!

BTAS Penguin x Reader - Green With Envy

You were riding in the backseat of a limousine with your date for the night.

You held his hand as you giddily waited to arrive at your destination. His hand always felt right in yours. 

Even with his webbed digits, you couldn't imagine any other hand extremities entwined with your own. 

“It's a pleasure to see you so eager, dove.” Oswald gave your hand a loving squeeze. 

“I'm always eager to spend time with you, Ozzie.” You squeezed back. “…I am also curious to meet these colleagues of yours, and I’m touched that you feel comfortable enough to introduce me to them.” 

Oswald had kept his more criminally inclined affairs far from you, so that you can never be accused or anything or caught up in any of it. 

However, he figured it was high time you meet a few of his fellow rogues, just for the sake of not having you worry as much or if you were somehow ever in a jam, he knew you would have someone perhaps like Harley to look out for you.

Oswald couldn't deny that soft enlightened look on your face when he offered the idea. 

This strong gesture of trust that the both of you felt without saying a word.  

Oz picked up your hand that was clasped in his and gave a peck to the back of it. 

The car slowly stopped in front of the Iceberg Lounge. 

“Ah, we’re finally here. Well, are you ready, darling?” He asked one more time before the driver opened his door. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be!” You smiled widely, tightening your grip on his hand as you let him lead you into the club. 

Oswald smiled warmly at you at your excitement. 

A smile that quickly faded as the hours passed. 

You had met a handful of the Rogues Gallery. You made quick friends with Harley and Pam. 

Harvey was cordial enough, despite some incredulous comments about your true relationship with Oswald here and there. 

You couldn’t help but feel relief when Joker got rather bored of you after you didn’t laugh at his distasteful violent jokes. 

Then there was Mr. Nygma…or Edward as he preferred you to call him. He seemed surprised by you at first, somewhat in awe. Once you introduced yourself, he loosened up. 

Most of them seemed decent enough. Mr. Tetch and Dr. Crane somewhat kept to themselves, but not impolite.

Killer Croc seemed harmless enough…at least in your presence. 

All the Rogues were interesting, but Edward’s bouts of knowledge that he shared with you were nothing short of fascinating. 

It didn’t take long for Oz to feel third wheeled to your conversation. 

He always did consider Ed to be a close acquaintance, perhaps even a friend who shared common cultured interest. 

Albeit at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to shove his umbrella down the green suited man’s throat. 

Oswald could feel the dense bile of envy boiling in the pit of his stomach. To avoid saying or doing something rash, he decided to get both of your drinks refilled. 

You thanked Oswald as he waddled over to the bar. You turned back to Edward when you heard him softly chuckle. 

“It’s such a shame that Ozzie took so long to introduce us. I couldn’t imagine keeping you cooped away for so long.” 

“Well, there’s no time like the present as they say..besides Ozzie was just looking out for my safety.” You looked over your shoulder to Oswald, longingly and lovingly. 

Yet you couldn’t help but notice he had somewhat of a grimace on his face. 

“Ah, that is true. Better late than never... how long exactly have you been with the old bird anyway?” 

You began rattling about the story of how you and Oz met, with your mind so deep in thought you didn’t even notice Edward getting closer to you. 

Unfortunately, Oswald walked up to the sight. 

You recalled something that made you giggle.

A giggle so infectious Ed began to chuckle with you. 

His hands tightened around the newly refilled glasses. How he longed for his hands to be around Ed’s neck instead.

Friend or not, he was getting awfully close to his lover. 

Ed followed your gaze and his eyebrows rose up in concern. 

You looked up when you noticed Oz coming into your peripheral vision.

You also noticed the strong grimace on his face. The drinkware in his hands shook from the intensity of his grip. 

“Ozzie…is everything all right?” You slowly approached him and gently took one of the glasses out of his hand and replaced it with your own. 

Your lips upturned slightly as your lover's shoulders slowly drooped and he took a strained sigh. 

“Just…peachy..” He grumbled. 

“Why don't we have a moment to ourselves outside on the balcony?” You suggested. 

Oswald didn't answer but silently followed your lead. 

Once you two were fully alone with the confirmation of a closed screen door, you put your hand on his shoulder as you walked up behind him. 

“Want to tell me what happened there, Ozzie? D-Did I do something wrong?” 

Oswald quickly turned to face you, as upset as he was…he knew it wasn't your fault. 

“No, absolutely not darling! You've been doing so well taking in all my colleagues’ well…eccentricities…”

You nodded, slowly trying to come up with another reason. 

“And with Edward?” 

Oswald’s face tightened with a grimace. 

Bingo. 

You wrapped your hands around the contours of Oswald's round and loveable face and made him look you in the eyes. 

“Ozzie…”

“Y-Yes…my dove?” His eyebrows perked up at the contact. 

“You know I love you right?” 

“Y-Yes I do…”

“And of all the…exquisite people I've met tonight…they all pale in comparison to you.”

A bashful smile spread across Oswald's face as a soft hue of red hinted at his cheeks. 

“You'll always have me, no matter what…no one is going to steal me away that easily.” You giggled as you leaned the tip of your nose to the tip of his own nose. 

Oswald seemed to finally take a sigh of relief. “I…I know, dove…I-It was rather foolish of me to…get as upset as I got…”

You shook your head. “It’s how you felt, I'm just glad I noticed before you got back to the table…you looked like you wanted to bite Ed's head  off.”

Oz grumbled. “Well…maybe…”

You playfully smacked him on his shoulder. “Ozzie!”

He flailed his arms up in defeat. “I jest, my love! I jest!” 

“Do you feel better now?” 

There was a brief pause of reflection before Oswald nodded with a content smile on his face. 

“Indeed…thank you, dove.” 

You grabbed the glasses you set off to the side on a glass outside table and handed one of them back to Oz. 

You lifted your glass in front of him. “A toast to us?” 

Oz chuckled warmly as he clinked his glass against yours before taking a hearty swig. 

“To us, my darling dove.”

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

please tell me about the headcannons for the First Ninja 🙏

!!! ;D Since you asked so nicely! ;3 uuuuhhhhhh lets see...some of my personal headcanons for First are:

He is baby of Norisu Clan, aka the Youngest child.

He barely remembers his parents, for they died when he was young (courtesy to Sorcerer and thus one of the many reasons Norisu Clan sought to defeat him), so he was mostly raised by his Oldest Siblings.

When he was younger (toddler-ish age), he was dotted upon by his older siblings, so he was kind of a brat, since he was used to being center of attention and being taken care of (tho he grew out of it pretty fast).

When he was younger (more teenager years) his hair used to be longer and he wore it in topknot (think Samurai Jack style).

And all of his Siblings were gone, he cut his hair off to honor their sacrifice and make a promise to finally defeat the Sorcerer (think sorta that Zuko scene from ATLA lol).

So, when we see First in Flashback of Ultimate Lesson, with his tiny ponytail, its (canonically i think?) several years after inprisonment of Sorcerer, that little tuft is what managed to grow back. (cause i think its interesting that we never see First out of the Ninja Suit in 13th Century Ninja episode)

Speaking of 13th Century Ninja episode(I both love and hate that episode so much man): I headcanon that most of First's behaviour can be explained by stress and despair he started to feel after loosing his siblings (also probably mild sleep deprivation from nightmares and ptsd). Which was why he seemingly 'gave up' so easily (like ??? ugh).

The other contributing factor is First being confronted by unrelenting dumb optimism/hope of Randy and suddenly strongly reminded First of himself, when he was younger and still believed his clan could defeat the Sorcerer and how he was that same ray of hope for his older siblings who were becoming weary from the battles. But he is older now, and no optimism or hope helped to save his siblings from the ultimate sacrifice, so he understands that darkness his family tried to protect him from much better now.

So basically I like to think younger First was a lot like Randy in many ways, especially in that assurance/confidence that any mistake can be fixed.

First is a great sea farer! Canonically, Norisu clan followed Sorcerer across the sea (according to Secrets of the 9 i think?), so they would have spent months/if not years at sea. And if First was young, it would have left a great impression on him, that expierence and time on the open waters.

That man can not cook to save his life, and he lost most of his appetite after his family's sacrifice, that's why he is rather scrawny.

First is not the best Ninja of Norisu Clan. He grew up in the protective shadow of his more talented and powerful Older Siblings, who in turn taught him everything they knew. So he might not be the most powerful of his Norisu Siblings, but he is the most rounded in his abilities and the most balanced one. ;)

hmmm i think im done for now ;D ask me later for more, maybe i'll have some more concrete ideas ;)

[sinning-23]

Glass Chandelier

Warnings: swearing, depictions of violence

Notes: Hellooo! This series is gonna be sorta gut wrenching or at Leary I’m gonna try to have it be lol. Let me know if your like to be added to a tag list and enjoy!

Ps. Pls ignore any spelling errors I did my bestest

Introduction

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Evening at the Baratie was as busy as usual. The brunch rush had well started and patrons tumbled in sitting at their designated tables they more likely waited months to get. It was a bit brighter than you would have liked but the booth you're sitting in is just right. Night time was more your speed at the floating restaurant but the waiter from last night had piqued your interest. As an attempt to see him again, you came in a bit earlier.

You sit, cross-legged and slightly impatient, hoping to see a mess of slightly wavy blonde tresses but he never shows. Part of you feels silly for entertaining the idiot but you simply couldn't resist an opportunity like this.

-the night prior-

"Fancy a drink with me after this?" He asks, smiling right back at you as you remove yourself from the booth and stand before him.

Your fingertips dance across the collar of his blazer and you cant help but to flick the hair that falls in front of his face away. He watches, cheeks tinting even darker as you flatten out his attire.

"I fancy far more than a drink.”You tease, circling him as he tries to find the words to respond to your far-from-innocent comment.

The blonde only chuckles in response and tries to fight the smile that creeps over his face. Damn, did you look good walking away.

Your head snaps towards the restaurant entrance as the doors sound as if they not only swing open but are slammed into the wall behind them. The other customers didn’t seem to notice, still enjoying their meals. As a reoccurring customer, you were well aware of the ‘No fighting inside’ rule they followed seeing as you’d watched that same waiter and many others break up a fight before they could even start. You reach for your pick, seeing not one or two, but three fish men that looked far from friendly stop down to the main floor.

If the current customers were paying attention before they were now as the slightly larger one lifted the man who just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time out of his chair and threw him across the dining floor. It would be wise to leave now and you weren’t the only one with the same idea.

However, a sharp and quite threatening, “SIT DOWN” booms returning most to their seat.

Zeff, the man you’d grown quite close with as a reoccurring customer had stepped out amid the commotion, eyeing you and hovering his head a firm shake. If he knew you he knew you’d leave one way or another but this situation was different.

He was well aware of your ability to protect yourself but three against one wasn’t fair and these ‘gentlemen’ seemed far from it. You heed his advice, crossing your legs and sitting back down to sip your drink.

“If you don’t bring me that straw hat by the time I finish my meal, maybe I’ll start adding some of these nice folks to the menu.” He threatened, narrowing his eyes at your defensive frame.

How entitled did you have to be to not only ruin everyone’s meals with this nonsense but threaten to harm them as they are already cowering in fear?

It took less than a few minutes to finish you drink and once you were you had already removed yourself from the booth and was walking toward the exit. A hush falls over the hostages as your heels click against the tile.

“And where are you going?” The fishman who you’d learned was named ‘Arlong’ growls, the two lackeys eyeing you as if you spat at them.

Arlongs patients ran thin with humans if there was even any to begin with. So for you to not only NOT be afraid of who he was and what he could do to you while simultaneously ignoring his threats was enough to piss him off beyond comprehension.

“Leaving, I finished my drink. I thought that was obvious?” You speak, turning on your heel as the screech of the chair sliding on tile makes you stop again.

Reaching for your weapons would give you away too soon. The ice picks were more of a close combat weapon so until you were at the required amount of space, revealing them just to appear big and bad wasn’t wise. It was never really an option to begin with considering being flashy wasn’t your forte.

You were accurate and precise…calculated. That’s what mattered most in a fight. Sure raw talent and strength were great to have but critical thinking skills, common sense, and planning were things that weren’t quite easy to come by.

He’s towering over you now, your eyes scanning the surrounding area as well as his current physical state. If Arlong could throw a grown man damn near 30 feet away he’d surely break you in half without a second thought.

“Don’t you know who I am girl?” He growls, his fists clenched at his sides as you act as if he’s not a threat. It pisses him off more.

“Yeah, I just don’t care.”

He reaches for you, his hands going for your neck but you’re quick to duck, pulling the sliver of metal from your garter. You slice upwards, the point sliding from his ankle to mid-thigh. A hiss leaves his mouth as he tries to reach for you again but you slip between the opening of his two legs left before dragging the needles point down the left side of his back. A gasp leaves your mouth when a second pair of hands snatch you from your current position. Damn it.

Your arms flex and before Alrlong can even raise his fist your feet are off the ground and kicking firmly into his chest. It wasn't enough to fully push him back, just make his scoot maybe an inch back. You take the chance to flip out of your captor's grasp, Legs locking around his neck as you lift your pick.

Air leaves your lungs when you hit the floor of the Baratie and you feel the drink you'd previously finished rise up your throat after a swift kick to the stomach that sent you flying.

"Allow me to make an example. We all know fishermen are superior, but you just don't truly know the extent of that." Arlong growls, lifting you by your hair as you groan, pain shooting through your ribs.

His teeth sink into your shoulder as you thrash, doing anything you can to get him away despite the pain. Your flesh tears open, and the smell of your own blood fills your nose as it slides down your back and arm. A silent scream is stuck in your throat and when he finally decides to tear away a sizeable chunk he drops you, the thudd making patrons flinch.

The restaurant doors burst open for a second time and your heart almost bursts out of your chest when your blonde meets your injured frame. You managed to sit up against a pillar, pulling part of a tablecloth apart to dress your wound.

The straw hat Arlong had been looking for had stepped down, conversing with him briefly as the waiter seemed to pale just looking at you. It must be bad. You flash him a smile forcing yourself to stand as a bang sounds from beside you.

And when Arlong breaks Zeff's leg with a swift yet powerful kick, hell breaks loose.

You force yourself up, grab your picks, and sprint towards one of the two lackeys seeing as the blonde waiter was occupied with the other. You jabbed in his direction, missing by mere inches. A punch to your gut makes you gag and falter, the pain in your ribs shooting to the pain in your shoulder.

You growl, grabbing a discarded fork and jabbing it into the large-lipped fishman's calf. You stand, grabbing him by the collar before stomping your foot over the fork, diving it deeper, tearing a sizeable gash in the process. With a clenched fist, you wind up and punch as hard as your could before landing a final kick to his chest.

“BLONDIE!” You yelp, scrambling to get the waiter on his feet as he groans, his fans gripping his ribs.

Slinging his body partially over your uninjured shoulder, you also groan, limping to the kitchen the double doors whilst the straw hat boy and Arlong had moved outside. His lackeys followed. You sit the blonde down, immediately going back out to help Zeff. Pain shoots through you again as you huff, any adrenaline warns off now and you fight tears.

The kitchen is quiet, only the sound of the waiter's heavy breathing and your own filling it up as Zeff leans wearily in his chair. You whimper, touching the raw and open wound with a warm towel, the color becoming a deep red with every drop of blood it soaked up.

Hot tears slide past your cheeks as you to try and find some sort of reflective surface. The young blonde only limps after you. With steady hands he lifts you onto the counter, being mindful of the obvious injuries you’d earned in the fight.

Despite wishing you were dead instead of in excruciating pain, the action makes your heart flutter. He is much larger than you, his frame wider than you remember. His waist is a lot smaller too, it being seemingly curved and leading right to a pair of thighs you'd managed to lay your eyes on. The veins running up his arms look awfully tempting as they lead right down to a large pair of hands, one adorned with a ring.

His nails are trimmed and surprisingly clean. It's clear he takes care of himself, the smell of cigarettes and spice fills your senses. His lips are moving but you can’t hear any sound and his eyes are so concerned looking at you. Blue....so soft and so blue. His eyes crinkle at the side when he smiles...

“Hm?” You quip, cursing yourself for swooning when he gives you a faint smile.

After rolling up his sleeves, his fingers move along your torso, gently touching your sides as he repeats the question.

“What’s your name darling?”

His voice sounds so much better than you remembered. He's focused, fighting a grimace as he rinsed and rang out the cloth that's now soaked in your blood.

His hands are stained with the color, but so are yours at this point. He returned the towel to your injury, getting a fresh one soaked with warm water before brushing it over the palm of your hand oh so gently.

"Why, you wanna take me out on a date?" You tease, eyes meeting as you both share a smirk. "Well you just helped fight off 3 fishmen all of which were twice your size. I wanna know who I'm thanking for that." He speaks, the gentle caress of the towel stopping when his index finger lifts your chin.

A heavy sigh and grumble forces you to turn away. Zeff was still slumped in the chair watching this whole scene play out and quite frankly hed rather not watch his 'son' flirt with one of his more favorable patrons.

Perhaps the flirting could come to a brief pause. You open your moouth to answer and flip the question but he's already back out the door when someone come yelping for help.

Something about "Luffy" being thrown into the ocean and needing saving?

________________________________________________

Taglist: @waannty @strangermeats (yall reblogged i assumed you'd want to be notified of the next chapter lol)

[charmandabear]

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Leather and Lace

Summary

Lady Estelle wasn't expecting to fall for her tailor, of all people. But with everything under her control during the day, she's more than content to cede control to him at night.

Pairing: Astarion/F!OC Rating: E Word Count: 5.7k Tags/Warnings: unprotected sex, orgasm denial, safeword discussion, light bondage, d/s dynamic, p in v sex, vampire sex, biting, vampire bites, blood drinking, sexual tension, casual classism, AU, (sorta, you can make an argument), praise kink

Read on AO3

Something in me turned feral when I saw Hamrikaa's tailor!Astarion art and I needed to get this out of my system. It doesn't help that I work with costumes irl and I suddenly got a lot of opinions about Astarion and sewing.

I have more thoughts on this relationship, particularly with the class difference and power dynamics. I also really want a story with a plus size protag since I'm really tired of feeling like the implication is that all Tavs/OCs are the type 1 body. So let me know if that's something that appeals to you, or if you're interested in a longer version with more than just sexual tension and smut, lol.

Fucking Arfur.

It’s sundown on a Saturday and Lady Estelle Rosewinter is traipsing through the Lower City looking for a tailor. Arfur Gregorio had shown up to her masquerade several hours early already intoxicated. While trying to shoo him off the grounds, he had stepped on her gown, ripping the seam of the thigh high slit to a nearly obscene height. Now, as guests are beginning to arrive, she isn’t there to greet them and is rather passing shop after shop putting up their closing signs. 

She could have just chosen a different gown as her handmaiden Celia had suggested, except that it took her so long to get into the damn thing. She thought that getting it fixed would take but a minute. It did not occur to her that, given the hour, finding an available tailor would prove so difficult.

Estelle is about to give up when she sees a dim little shop out of the corner of her eye. It’s not on the main drag, but rather up a quiet alleyway. But there’s no mistaking the sign.

Threads of Starlight

The door to the shop is clearly open, so she rushes in, desperate to speak with the proprietor.

“My apologies, I know you’re probably about to close, but I have an emergency, and I promise that I’ll pay handsomely for the inconvenience–” she cuts herself off as the tailor walks out from the back. He’s so much more attractive than she would’ve expected from someone of his station. His clothes are humble but understandably incredibly well-fitting, his trousers gently hugging his lean legs and the sleeves of his light linen top rolled up above his elbows, revealing pale, slender forearms. His silvery hair looks windswept and effortless, although Estelle knows it takes a practiced hand to get one’s hair just right like that. There’s a measuring tape slung around his neck and he looks briefly startled by her appearance before a practiced charm takes over.

“No need for apologies, Lady…” he leaves a gap in his speech for her to tell him her name. His voice is melodic.

“Estelle. Lady Estelle.” She tries to match his honeyed tone but her mouth has suddenly gone dry. He takes her hand and gently presses his lips to her knuckles.

“Lady Estelle. The pleasure is all mine,” he coos and a shiver goes up her spine. What on earth would a tailor need with this much charisma? Without letting go of her hand, he gracefully leads her up onto the fitting stand in the middle of the shop. She has danced with the finest nobility in Baldur’s Gate, and none of them were even half this elegant.

“Now please, tell me what I can do for you. I hope there’s nothing wrong with this beautiful gown of yours. Is it one of Galwen’s?” The way he looks at her makes her feel exposed, almost naked, despite the conversation literally being about her clothes. She clears her throat in an attempt to regain some composure.

“Yes, I’ve been going to her for years, but she’s tragically unavailable this evening.” Not that Estelle didn’t try. She sent three messengers and finally went to Galwen’s door herself, but she refused to open back up. Pity, since it looks like she’s lost Estelle’s business for good, especially if this one turns out to be as good as he looks. And gods does he look good.

“All the more fortunate for me that I stay open late,” he says in a low tone, and gooseflesh breaks out over Estelle’s arms. “Now, tell me darling,” he coughs at letting the casual pet name slip out, “pardon me, my Lady, how can I be your gown’s savior this evening?” Estelle hadn’t heard the rest of his sentence because her ears started ringing at the “darling.” Normally she would not take too kindly to someone in the working class speaking so informally to her. She’s beginning to feel lightheaded. Has she been hexed? Does this happen to any who cross his threshold?

“It’s torn,” she says in an uncharacteristically small voice. “Right here.” She lifts her skirt at the thigh slit, threads popping out of the seam. In an instant the tailor is on one knee, examining it closely. With him suddenly this close, all of her symptoms dissipate and are replaced by just one: desire.

She tries to shake herself out of it. Not only would anything of the sort be wildly inappropriate - given her status in Baldur’s Gate, an affair with a lowly tailor would be splashed all over Baldur’s Mouth within hours - this man is a consummate professional, and she’s certain that he would never return her affections. He must look beneath dozens of hems a day, this is nothing out of the ordinary for him. 

He touches the fabric as he studies it, cool fingers lightly grazing Estelle’s skin. She gasps at the sensation, and he looks up at her sheepishly.

“I’m terribly sorry, I have poor circulation. My touch is always something nasty, I’m afraid.” Estelle shakes her head and finds anywhere to look but into those piercing red eyes. 

“It’s fine, really. I have an important evening planned, so I’m a bit jumpy,” she lies through her teeth. He steps away to pick up a needle and thread from behind the counter. While his back is turned, Estelle takes the time alone to wipe sweat off her brow. This man is making her burn up inside and out.

“Oh really?” he sings as he’s back down on his knees, dangerously close to her upper thigh once again. “And pray forgive me, but I must reach up slightly in order to make this repair, if that’s alright. I promise, I’ll be the picture of a gentleman.” He looks up at her, waiting for her consent before touching her further. Estelle, worried what might come out if she opened her mouth, just nods. 

He slides his hand between the fabric and her leg, pulling it out slightly so he can tuck his needle into the underside of the seam. Estelle bites down on her tongue to keep from moaning. She knows that she’s touch-starved, it’s been far too long since anyone has warmed her bedsheets. Between running a household, meeting with politicians and nobility alike, and her position in the Baldur’s Gate arts council, she hardly has the time. But this is ridiculous. A gentle caress from a man should not elicit this much heat between her thighs, and yet here she is, keeping them pressed together tight, the slight pressure her only relief. 

His fingers move deftly, pulling the needle through the fabric with ease. He’s focusing on his work so intently, and Estelle watches him almost like he’s a dream. He begins tying off the thread, and before he’s complete, his eyes flick upward to meet Estelle’s.

“All finis-” he begins, but Estelle is so startled by the intensity of his gaze that she jumps, causing him to prick his finger with the needle. A tiny droplet of blood lands on the pale pink silk. The tailor jumps back, horrified, and immediately starts apologizing profusely.

“Oh gods, Lady Estelle, I’m so terribly sorry, look at what a clumsy little fool I am, gods on such a beautiful dress, too,” his words tumble out of him, all composure that was once there, now gone. She’s finding this flustered side of him possibly even more appealing than the cool and collected version. Her lady-of-the-house instincts kick in, and she addresses him like a new maid who has accidentally broken china while transporting it to the kitchen. 

“Darling,” she breathes and lifts his chin with a finger. She can finally look into those crimson eyes, feeling herself regain the poise she’s accustomed to. “It’s nothing to worry about. Just a speck.” She swears she can hear his breath catch, but maybe it’s just wishful thinking because he recovers quickly.

“Perhaps, but I still feel terrible. This mend is on the house, as well as any alteration you might need done on another garment. And, ah. How to say this.” He looks flushed again, despite the paleness of his skin. “There is a foolproof way of getting one’s blood out of fabric, but it’s not the most, er, refined shall I say.” This piques Estelle’s intrigue.

“Really? And what way is that?”

The tailor shifts nervously, and she positively relishes in the trade in demeanors. 

“This only works if it’s the one the blood belongs to, but if you can catch it straight away, then, erm, saliva will do the trick,” he says with a chagrined smile. Whatever Estelle was expecting, this is not it. 

“Oh,” she responds, and suddenly she’s back to that lightheaded feeling. What is he proposing exactly? Whatever it may be, she’s certain it will involve his mouth in some way and she’s not sure how she’ll handle that.

“The next five alterations are free, I’m so very sorry, this is very uncommon while working on a garment. At least, I’m usually better at catching myself,” he adds with embarrassment. 

“Uh, yes, whatever- whatever needs to be done. Thank you.” She peers down at him, willing herself to find somewhere else to look but unable to tear her eyes away. He pops a thin, pale finger in his mouth and swirls his tongue around it. She swallows loudly as he takes his finger out and dabs it on the slit of her dress, still achingly close to her thigh. He rubs at the spot, but evidently it’s not enough, because he then brings his lips to her dress and lightly rubs his tongue on the silk. 

“Oh gods,” she can’t keep this moan from escaping her lips. If he can hear her, he doesn’t respond, blessedly. He pulls away from her, silver hair ever so slightly disheveled, and rubs at the spot with a handkerchief to dry it.

“Apologies again, my Lady,” he says with a frown, examining the spot for any remaining blood. Then he stands and they’re face to face, the few inches of pedestal putting their eyes at the same height. “I hope this doesn’t make you think any less of my skills as a tailor.” She briefly wonders what other skills he might possess before banishing the thought from her head. 

“Not at all, er,” she falters, realizing she never asked his name, which is unlike her, she usually tries to learn the names of all of the people she contracts to work for her.

“Astarion,” he says with a bow.

“Astarion, yes,” she repeats breathlessly. “Well, Astarion, you came to my aid in a time of desperation, and I suppose there was a blood price to be paid.” He lets out a startled laugh, clearly not expecting her to make such a joke.

“That’s very clever, Lady Estelle,” he says, his eyes sparkling. “You were a pleasure to have on my fitting platform, I do hope to see you again soon. At least to make up for my absolute buffoonery.” He’s back to the confidently poised man who first greeted her when she entered the shop, and he plants another light kiss on the back of her hand. 

“I assure you, the pleasure was all mine,” Estelle murmurs, almost hoping that he doesn’t hear her. “Oh, and Astarion?”

“Yes, my Lady?”

“Please. Call me Stella.

***

Several tenday have passed since Stella’s first meeting with Astarion, and she had visited his shop nearly every evening. It didn’t take long for her to admit her feelings; she couldn’t hide them even if she wanted to. Even when Astarion confessed his status as a vampire spawn, she wasn’t deterred. If anything, it aroused her all the more. Something happens to Astarion when he drinks her blood. The humble and subservient tailor disappears, and in his place is a self-assured and dominant man. Stella is more than happy to relinquish control over to him. She’s responsible for so much during the day, making decisions, telling people what to do, so there’s an appeal to having someone else take that role for once. 

The moment she walks into the shop she’s met with the graceful gentleman. No matter how many times she sees him, that wicked smile sets a small ember in her belly that quickly spreads. Each point of contact lights on fire despite his chilled skin. A spark in her fingers as he pulls her forward, a flame on her cheek as he strokes it gently. In an instant he shuts the door and flips around the open sign. With the darkened windows and the door now closed, they’re plunged into semi-darkness and Stella feels a chill go up her spine.

Astarion wastes no time in pushing her against the door and kissing her deeply. He presses his body up against hers and she gasps into his kiss as he pulls her in closer by her waist. He slides his knee between her legs and she lets out a whimper. Astarion chuckles in her ear.

“Eager, aren’t we?” he coos, lifting her slightly with his knee putting a delicious pressure on her mound. She clutches the back of his neck and hair, wrapping her leg around him to get even closer. He hikes up her skirt to her waist and scoops her up so both of her legs grip his midsection. Keeping his lips locked on hers as she continues to devour him, he carries her through the shop and to one of the adjacent rooms where there’s a bed and two untouched glasses of wine sitting on a side table. The tailor’s quarters. 

He throws her down on the bed and she looks up at him, cheeks and lips flushed, eyes glowing. Her typically neatly coiffed hair is mussed and strands splay out beneath her head like a halo. Astarion straddles her waist, pinning her in place, as he strokes her face.

“Tell me what you want,” he breathes, looking down at her with heavy lidded eyes. She grabs his shirt and pulls him in close.

“You know what I want,” she smirks, gaze flickering between his eyes and lips. He laces his fingers through her tousled hair and gently grazes his fangs over her neck, eliciting a sharp gasp.

“And you know I like to hear it,” he murmurs into her neck, and another full-body shiver goes through Stella. His breath feels chilling against her warm neck, blood pumping eagerly through her arteries. She grabs his face and forces him to look her in the eye – the last bit of control she has before she cedes it completely.

“Astarion,” she says slowly, measured and teasing, “I would enjoy it very much if you bit my neck, drank my blood, and then had your fucking way with me.” He chuckles darkly.

“Well,” he grins, a mischievous glint in his eye, “since you asked so nicely.” Stella lets out a moan as his fangs sink into her skin, the piercing pain soon giving way to a throbbing ache. His lips close around the wound, drinking in her delicious warmth, leaving her feeling blissfully lightheaded. She hums with pleasure as she curls her fingers into his silvery locks, hips unconsciously rolling into his, hungry for more contact. She can feel him growing stronger as her blood flows into him, his thighs tightly gripping her hips, keeping her locked into place. 

Astarion pulls away from her before going too far and Stella lets out a small whine at the loss of contact. He’s out of breath, chest heaving as he licks the last of her blood from his lips. He presses two fingers to the wound on her neck to stanch the bleeding as she looks up at him, pupils blown wide with lust. Once he can feel that the blood is no longer flowing freely, he takes his fingers away and hovers them centimeters above Stella’s lips.

“Open,” he commands, and she dutifully obeys. She takes his fingers into her mouth and sucks on them lasciviously, the metallic taste of her own blood filling her mouth. It’s one thing to prick her finger and to suck on it to make the bleeding stop. It’s quite another to lap her blood of Astarion’s fingers, languishing in the vulgarity of the taboo. She yearns to hear his breath hitch as she works her tongue over their length. 

He slides his fingers out of her mouth and grabs her chin, reversing the roles from moments before. He examines her face, turning it this way and that, like he’s inspecting a prized golden retriever at a dog show. 

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he lets out in a low tone. “Trapped underneath me, open and wanton, ready to let me do whatever I want with you. To you,” he adds on with an impish grin, and Stella squirms with anticipation. He swings a leg over her and stands by the edge of the bed, towering over her.

“Up now, on your knees,” he instructs and she scrambles to sit on her knees, still looking up at Astarion with lust-filled eyes. He reaches behind her and fully releases her hair from its loose braid letting it fall down the length of her back. He runs his fingers through her hair, humming as he does, “Good girl.” Her chest swells with the intake of breath as she leans into his touch even more.

“Undress. Quickly,” he demands. Her skirt is already up around her waist so she peels the rest of her dress off in a fluid motion. The corset provides a little more resistance, but even with fumbling fingers she manages to untie the laces and undo the hooks, letting it fall behind her. The sudden exposure to air makes her nipples go hard. Astarion smirks and cups one of her breasts in his hand, stroking her tit with his thumb. Stella bites back a cry.

“Shh shh shh. Not a sound,” Astarion whispers as he puts his lips close to her ear, continuing to fondle her. “I don’t want to hear you make a single noise, understood? Not until I say so.” He pulls away and locks his crimson eyes on her brown ones. Stella trembles, but nods silently.

“Good,” he breathes and slides her forward so that she’s sitting on the edge of the bed with her toes lightly touching the floor. He then lowers himself to one knee between her legs. He kisses up her thigh until he reaches her panties. He looks up at her mischievously as he hooks a finger in either side of the waistband, and he slips them off in a single fluid motion. Stella shudders with anticipation for what he plans to do next. 

Astarion parts her legs and she can feel the cool air on the slickness between her thighs. He leans forward and takes her nipple in his mouth, flicking his tongue lightly over the tip. She takes in a shaky breath, but she manages to keep any noise she might want to make under wraps. He looks up at her while continuing to work his tongue. She clenches the sheets as jolts of white hot electricity shoot through her body. He pushes her legs apart even further and leans in, the ties from his frilled shirt lightly brushing against her folds. She gasps and shifts her pelvis, simultaneously trying to get less and more contact. He grabs her waist forcefully to hold it in place. He snakes his way up so that they’re face to face, lips a hair’s breadth apart.

“Ah ah, no moving either. Are you going to be good for me? Will you be silent like I’ve asked?” he says in a light, sing-songy tone. Stella keeps her lips clamped together as she nods.

“And what will you give me if you can’t obey?” he purrs, brushing his lips against hers as he runs a thin, cool finger along her slit. 

“Ah-anything,” Stella moans, turning her pleasure sound into a response. Astarion lets a smug grin play on his lips.

“Either way, I’ll get what I want,” he intones, and mercifully pulls his face away from hers. She releases a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. But it’s still only the beginning.

He lowers himself onto both knees and places a delicate kiss on her labia. She squirms but remains silent.

“My, you could drown a small army down here,” he says with an amused smile, and Stella just continues to breathe heavily, her chest rising and falling as she gazes down at the head of white curls between her legs. He runs the tip of his tongue along her folds, hands pushing out on her thighs slightly as he does. As he parts her legs further he exposes more of her, letting his tongue explore the newly uncovered skin. A cry catches in Stella’s throat and she slaps a hand over her mouth. His scorching gaze fixes on her and she lets herself fall back on the bed. If she watches she’ll be done for. Then again, not being able to anticipate his next move might be even worse.

Not being one to let her escape his torment, Astarion grabs Stella beneath the legs and yanks her toward him, letting her legs fall onto his shoulders as he continues to lap up her sweetness. She chokes down a whine, her breath quickening as she desperately tries to control herself. His tongue plunges into her and she bites into her hand with a hiss. With her pelvis rolled up so that he can get the best angle, he continues fucking her with his tongue, getting deep enough that the tips of his fangs press into her ever so lightly. 

That’s what sets her over the edge. The smallest pinprick of pain along with all of the filthy things he’s doing to her with his tongue tears a scream from her throat, muffled by her hand. He stops and stands over her, backlit by the low lighting, her wetness reflecting off his devilish smile. He then grabs her by the throat, not enough to constrict her breathing, but just enough to pull her face up to his.

“What was that, my sweet?” he growls dangerously. 

“N-nothing,” Stella stammers out, but Astarion just smiles.

“I don’t think it was ‘nothing,’ darling,” he breathes, acid in his voice. “I was very explicit in my instructions, was I not?” His hand tightens around Stella’s throat and she lets out a choked sound. It’s not a sound she usually makes. Astarion pulls his hand back slightly, concern creeping into his eyes. Stella looks up at him and nods.

Keep going.

They have a safe word for a reason, but if anything unexpected happens, Astarion still prefers to check in. He’s mentioned before that sometimes he’s worried that he’ll lose control, especially right after drinking her blood.

Stella finds the danger absolutely thrilling, but wants him to feel just as safe as she does.

Astarion drops her throat and pushes her down so her back is flat against the bed. Still between her legs, he pushes his pelvis against hers, pinning her wrists above her head. He’s still fully clothed, and the leather of his pants feels deliciously cool against her wet pussy. He puts one knee up on the bed, pushing her right leg up higher and spreading her even further. As unphased and indifferent as he seems, Stella can still feel his erection pressing into her, and she shifts to feel it more.

“You said you’d give me anything if you failed, correct?” he murmurs against her lips. 

“Yes,” the word escapes on a breath.

“Then hold still.” Astarion stands and the sudden loss of all contact elicits a small whine from Stella. He flashes her a playful smirk as he walks over to the bedside table and pulls out two long strips of cloth. He climbs on top of Stella again, straddling her hips and squeezing lightly with his thighs.

“Wrists, please,” he commands almost nonchalantly. Stella immediately puts her wrists together and holds them out to Astarion.

“Good girl,” he coos and the praise makes her lightheaded. He tenderly wraps her wrists up in the silk cloth, making sure it's tight enough to prevent escape but not enough to cause any lasting damage. He then takes the other strip of cloth, a sturdier cotton broadcloth, and holds it to her lips. He ties it tightly behind her neck, keeping her from being able to open her mouth at all.

“Since you can’t control yourself enough to stay quiet,” he purrs, low and dangerous, “maybe this will do it for you. And I think,” he stands and walks over to the bed stand. He looks over his shoulder and orders in an apathetic tone, “Up dear.” She scrambles to her knees, wrists falling limply in her lap. He continues, “I think you need one more thing to remind you to whom you belong.” He pulls out a fine leather collar with a silver O-ring in the middle. Stella’s excitement mingles with genuine admiration for the craftsmanship. He turns around and lovingly closes it around her neck. He then slips one slender finger through the ring and pulls it up so her head is tilted toward him.

“How does that feel, good?” he asks lightly, and she nods, still desperate to please. He lets go of the collar and strokes her jaw. “Good,” he breathes, and she can see the self-control in his eyes. He wants to fuck her just as much as she wants him to, and it’s taking everything in his power to hold out. He leans into her lips as though he’s about to kiss her but stops just short of making contact. 

“Now, before I decide precisely what I want to do with you,” he hums into her lips, “I want to make sure you can still tell me if I need to stop or slow down. If it ever becomes too much, I want you to snap your fingers, understood? Show me now.” Astarion keeps his lips achingly close to hers, but she does as he says. When he hears her snap, he grabs her face in his hands and kisses her roughly, sliding a dastardly knee between her legs once again. She longs to reach for him but keeps her bound wrists dutifully in her lap as his lips continue their assault on hers. 

Once he breaks the kiss, he remains close and slides his hands behind her head and into her hair. “Good girl,” the words rumble low in his throat and Stella is grateful for the cloth that muffles the obscene noise she makes. He steps away and she’s finally able to see all of him as he pulls off the tunic, revealing his porcelain chest. She yearns to run her fingers along it, tracing the outlines of his muscles, but instead she just grabs a fistful of sheets beneath her hands. He pulls down his trousers, letting his already hardened cock free, and her pussy twitches in anticipation. 

Astarion saunters back up to her and touches the front of her gag where a small wet spot is forming with her desire for him. He smirks and pulls her face down to his cock, running the tip of it along the broadcloth. She can feel it brush against her lips, and she again moans in anticipation. 

“Don’t you wish you could take me in your mouth?” he breathes, and Stella presses her tongue against the inside of the gag, trying to make even minimal contact. He laughs cruelly. “Gods, you’re desperate,” he scoffs. “It’s a shame, because if you had been able to follow my instructions, I may have even let you ride me on top.” He pushes the tip of his dick into the gag one more time before pulling away, leaving Stella to squirm achingly. 

“But instead,” he forcefully pushes her back so that she’s once again lying on the bed with her legs spread open for him. He crawls on top of her and teases her opening with his tip. She mewls in desperation. “You’ll have to contend with me doing whatever I want to this beautiful body of yours. I can slide in,” and he pushes into her, wrenching a gasp and whine from her mouth, before pulling out and letting his tip tease her again, “and pull out on a whim. You said I could do whatever I want.”

Stella is beside herself with lust. Unable to move her hands, she writhes her pelvis, trying to get even the slightest bit of contact. Her pussy is starting to burn from the pent up desire and she’s genuinely unsure of how much longer she can last like this. Astarion grins widely and his fangs sparkle in the low lighting. 

“Shall I give you what you want, darling? What you so fiercely crave?” His slick tip is still dancing around her cunt and tears are starting to form in her eyes as she nods. He thrusts into her again and rips the cloth from her lips before whispering sharply into her ear.

“Then I want to hear it all,” he hisses. “I want you screaming my name as I fuck you.” With his permission, she cries out, all of her stifled energy finally releasing.

“Oh gods, Astarion, fuck me please,” the words spill from her mouth uncontrollably. He starts pounding into her and she knows after all that time teasing her, she won’t last long. The heat of him sliding in and out, the stretch with each thrust, fills her with a fire that threatens to turn into an explosion. 

“Fuck, Astarion, please,” she whines, moments away from climax. She wraps her legs around his waist to get him in deeper, and now it’s his turn to let out a low moan. He continues to slam into her, the sounds of their mutual pleasure mounting.

“Look at me,” he growls, and she struggles to keep her gaze locked onto his crimson eyes. He looks so beautiful above her, silvery hair getting slick with sweat, panting as he continues his smooth rhythm. She can feel her orgasm building as her cries grow louder. He knows she’s close, too, and once again he flashes a fang-bearing smile.

“Come for me, darling,” he groans, and that sends her toppling over the edge.

“Gods, Astarion, yes!” she screams as she comes, and his follows shortly after. With a final thrust, he releases into her, his cock pulsing exquisitely. He looks down at her with an uncharacteristically shy smile and kisses her as he pulls out.

Both of them are out of breath as he collapses onto the bed next to her. Stella’s limbs feel light as though she just downed an entire bottle of dream mist. She rolls onto her side to look at Astarion, who appears to be equally intoxicated. Without a word she holds her wrists up, and he laughs lightly.

“Ah, yes, you might want those back,” he croons, and uses his teeth to pull out the knot, and the silk falls away in one fluid motion. Her hands are so close to his face that she cups his chin gently, just content to look at him.

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispers, and he turns a kiss into her palm. 

“I could say the same thing,” he purrs as he looks up at her through his lashes. “Tea?” He pulls up the plush blanket that had been folded neatly at the end of the bed and wraps it around Stella’s shoulders. She snuggles into it and pulls it closed around her, then nods. He plants a quick kiss on her forehead and walks over to fill the kettle hanging above the hearth. Stella admires his silhouette, backlit by the light of the fire. He’s lithe and sinewy, his sculpted muscles built for dexterity more than strength. Her eyes rake over his broad shoulders, the dip of his lower back, the curve of his bare ass. He turns his head to look at her over his shoulder.

“Yes?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Nothing,” she hums, “just enjoying the view.” He smiles as he leans over the blanket cocoon she’s swathed herself in and kisses her lips softly, gently. He’s always particularly tender with her after a session like that, and Stella is grateful for it. She loves being able to see both of these sides of Astarion. The affable tailor eager to serve, and the dangerous dom claiming his power. Her fingers lightly dance on the collar he put on her. She likes the idea of belonging to him. A pity she couldn’t wear something as conspicuous as a leather collar in her daily life.

Astarion returns with a steaming mug, and as though reading her mind, pulls a long jewelry box from the drawer of the bedside table. 

“A companion piece to your collar, if you so wish,” he says in explanation. “You’re under no obligation to wear it, of course, but I thought you might like a little reminder of me everywhere you go.” She opens the box and nestled in the satin is a delicate silver chain with a small ring in the center. Her jaw drops slightly as she marvels at its beauty.

“Astarion, how did you–?” she begins, but he cuts her off.

“It pays to be a well-connected artisan, darling,” he says with a shrug. 

“Will you put it on me?” Stella asks in a light voice, and he looks delighted. She lifts up her hair so that he can unclasp the leather collar and replace it with the silver necklace. His fingers brush against her neck, lingering on the puncture mark he left earlier.

“Although perhaps you might want to sport high-collared dresses for a bit,” he admits with an apologetic grin. Stella turns and kisses him, cupping his face and gently running her thumb along his jaw.

“Well thank the gods I have a tailor who can make me new gowns in all the latest fashions,” she smirks. He climbs on top of her to kiss her more deeply, their naked bodies touching in a way that’s intimate, but not sexual. She could melt into his flesh, his kiss, his breath, and never want to change a thing.

[butterflydm]

cr3 102

I really enjoyed Bells Hells' questioning of Ludinus. I think they hit pretty much every point that I would have wanted them to make (even with them being less sympathetic towards the exandria gods than I am) and the way that Ludinus dodged every single question that they tried to put to him was... definitely less than convincing. And the way he left (encouraging the unleashing of Delilah) seems likely to only sour them even more towards him.

Because the huge point that needs to be made is that even if Ludinus was 100% correct about the gods -- even if that were true... how is what he's proposing any better? And he doesn't have any answer apart from "trust me bro".

Why is his super-powerful entity from beyond the stars better than the prime gods? It's just that it's his super-powerful entity that he prays to and communes with and devotes his life to empowering, and so that makes it different (and definitely not at all his god lol).

Launda being the one to point out how the prime/betrayer gods are a messed up little family just like Bells Hells is a messed up little family feels very poignant given the circumstances. And it tied really well into Launda very much fighting Delilah and giving her family permission to take her down to take down Delilah, which really made me feel like Laundra was paying real close attention to the interactions between the gods and she is determined not to be a 'betrayer god' to her own family.

Very emotionally intense fight overall but with some great moments of humor too (Essek the goat!). Launda fighting her way out of Delilah was fantastic every time. And Imogen (and the others!) trying to reach her.

I know that Orym has had more interactions with the Wildmother than any other god, but I am really feeling the Dawnfather energy from him tonight -- fighting but always hoping for another way out. At one hit point, staying in the fight and doing everything in his power to do his part for his family -- feels very much like Ayden/Dawnfather taking all that damage for the Emissary in the fight last episode. (and that's just the way that Orym is but, you know, that only reinforces the vibe)

(but, yeah, "She's hurt us worse than anyone." "That's why we have to help her." just... big Asmodeus-Everlight-Dawnfather vibes)

Dorian darting over to Orym after seeing him fall twice and trying to get him out of danger and just worrying over him the whole time. Lots of Dorym & Crownkeeper emotions going on tonight. And some tension, too! Because Dorian is more anti-god than anyone else at the table (due to what happened with Opal, I assume).

Was that Ashton leaving a piece of FCG in Aeor? Oh, man, my heart. There is also even more self-hate going on there than I realized, given the logic train of "if the gods are like us, they probably do deserve to die".

Braius is hilarious and I do not trust him even the slightest bit. And sorta bonding with Fearne over how all the gods are family (even the betrayers - so yeah that's an interesting vibe to be bringing in).

And we have a way to maybe separate Delilah from Launda, which is very exciting!

Yeah, this was a fantastic episode. We got everyone dunking on Ludinus, we got a tense fight, and we got to deal with the aftermath of the pvp in some safety and comfort afterwards. It had it all!

[pedgito]

How abouttttt edging Tom until he's pouty and crying

author’s note: this is purely self indulgence. i tried to mimic some of tom’s dialect in my prose without going too cornish, so i hope it isn’t too terrible. i’m so horribly american that i didn’t want to butcher the shit out of it lol. anyways, love tom grant, he’s supreme boyfriend material.

cw: 18+ (minors dni) strangers to lovers, meet-cutes, cooking for each other, oral (m receiving), edging (to tom), grinding over clothes (sorta), talks about past relationships/cheating (on both of them), tom is a sweetie, if i missed anything lmk

word count: 4.7k

You meet him by chance, out at the market for your daily errands. He’s always dressed in his work uniform, seemingly jumping straight from work to grab a few things for the night or the rest of his week, arms always full of items because he refuses to grab a basket and he’ll pile them high until the food is toppling to the floor. He’s stubborn, you can see it in his face as he squats down to pick up the unlucky can of vegetables that crashes against the tile, denting the corner.

You don’t introduce yourself the first time, grabbing the can and handing it back to him with a smile—he looks a little dejected, pouting at the kind gesture but mumbling a quiet thanks, regardless.

But, you see him everyday for a few weeks and suddenly you’re wondering how someone you’ve never met can be so interesting. He’s kind to the people stocking the shelves, the woman at the counter, but he doesn’t speak a word to you.

That’s why, after a long, dreadful three weeks of tense eye contact and awkward encounters, you finally take that plunge.

He’s reaching for the same box of cereal as you, caught up in his own thoughts so much that he doesn’t even realize you are leaning down beside him—you try to stumble out an apology but it dies on your lips.

“Those are your favorite?” He asks curiously, grabbing the box with ease and handing it over. You stall for a moment, wondering if you’d imagined him talking to you—he could’ve been talking to someone behind you, anyone but you. His eyes are locked on you when you glance up.

“How’d you know?” You ask, clutching the box to your chest with a kind nod. It was the last one.

“You’ve grabbed the same box every Monday,” He notes, pointing at the box of cereal, “but—never any milk?”

You snort a soft laugh, being caught up in your own weird ways of eating. He didn’t seem like he was judging, but it was something he couldn’t help but notice.

“Soggy cereal makes me ill at the thought of it.” You confess, “plus, it’s so much better when you can just eat it by the handful.”

He smiles wide, tongue poking through his teeth slightly.

“I’m Tom,” He introduces himself, “consider that last box an apology for being an ass to you the past few weeks.”

“Thank you,” You reply sweetly, patting the box lightly, “though, I definitely touched it first. I would’ve pried it from your hands if it came down to that.”

Tom laughs, shifting the weight of his groceries in his arms. And like clockwork, a can falls to the floor. You can’t help but take a small jab at him as you reach for it.

“Are you allergic to the baskets?” You ask playfully, “It would squash this whole ‘feeling too awkward to apologize’ when I have to pick up the stuff that you drop.”

Tom shakes his head slightly, a weak and unintelligible answer.

“Unless you’re doing it on purpose.” You suspect.

It had taken Tom a while to get over Ruth, forgive her, allow himself to rid his trailer of her things and move on. The only thing he hadn’t managed was allowing himself to return back to normalcy, talk to his friends, meet a nice girl—when Tom isn’t working, he’s home, unless he’s here and sometimes, the trips were unnecessary, just an innocent hope that he might run into you. But, his nerves constantly got the better of him, the words choking up in his throat. He wasn’t sure why today was different, but it was.

And while he was on that high, he takes a chance before his mind tries to talk him out of it.

“You’ve caught me,” He admits humorously, “there’s probably better ways to ask someone on a date, but uh—“

“Loads,” You interrupt with a hoaky smile, “but lucky for you, I’m interested.”

“Really?” He perks up instantly, nearly dropping his groceries in one giant pile. “Oh, well um—I didn’t think I’d get this far—“

You laugh at his honesty, pointing at his jacket pocket wearily, noting the outline of his phone, “Mind if I—“ He nods, angling his hip toward you to grab it. He rambled off his lock code without question and you entered your information swiftly before returning it back to him.

“I’m a bit rushed but call me later?”

“Uh, yeah—yes, I will.”

He does, which isn’t much of a surprise. You’d been anxious about the call since you left the store, wondering when was the last thing you were this caught up over a boy you knew nothing about. He called you that night, your name falling from his mouth like velvet—he sounds more relaxed, less wound up. You weren’t sure how stressful his job was, or what his life was like, but it’s a difference from the man you had ran into earlier.

“Are you opposed to a home-cooked meal?” He asks, straight to the point. You huff slightly, debating on the question to torture him slightly, the silence lingering.

“Seems a little forward, yeah?” You tease, laughing floating through the receiver and making him smile on the other end. “It’s fine, Tom. I really don’t mind.”

“You sure?” He asks for reassurance.

After Ruth, he doubted almost everything he did—wondering if he was doing too much, or not enough. It was never good enough.

“If I’m being honest, a home-cooked meal sounds much better than dressing up and going out to a fancy place to eat.”

“As if I could afford fine dining on my salary.” Tom jokes, settling into a sense of comfort in the conversation, a lull that felt natural. “But yes—I’m an excellent cook, so you have nothing to worry over.”

“I’m putting my life in your hands, Tom.” You tell him carefully, though the affection is still there. “Don’t be the first boy to put me in the hospital with food poisoning. I’ll never be able to forgive you for that.”

“Fucks sake—I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

The curse sounds too dirty falling from his mouth, tarnishing his rather innocent, boyish looks.

“What time is good for you?”

You hum softly, pondering on how long you should make him wait. But, you were too impatient yourself.

“How about tomorrow? Say, six?” You suggest.

“Perfect.” He responds softly.

The date quickly evolves into something that you and Tom didn’t really plan on—and it’s a silent agreement that settles between you two as that date turns into several dinners over the course of a couple months, either at your place or his, venting about your day and getting to know each other better than anyone else you knew in town.

You weren’t familiar with the place, having only lived there a few months, but Tom had told you everything you needed to know—where to eat, where to shop, even if you always ended up at his place anyways.

And you realize rather quickly why you both latched onto each other without hesitation—there was a weird yearn for companionship, or friendship even, that neither of you acknowledged audibly, but sensed within each other.

Tom has empty pictures frames stacked on his bedside table that he doesn’t mention, even when you two end up on his bed one night after a particularly filling meal, listening to him complain about how much the weather had been bothering him.

“I live right off the beach, you know—it would be nice to go but the water is always freezing.” Tom complains, tracing the outline of your fingers with his own, hands held straight up in front of you as you both stared toward the ceiling.

“So I suppose streaking into the ocean is out of the question for you?” You ask, only slightly joking. Tom turns to look at you, eyes comically wide as his movements still. “Tom, I’m fucking with you.”

Tom looks away briefly, face contorted in a semblance of pain, like maybe you hit a sore subject. It fades quickly, replaced by a flat emotion of content.

“Okay, fess up.” You pester him, turning on your side and propping your head up into your hand. “What’s got you so bothered?”

“Nothin’,” He laughs awkwardly, releasing your hand to replace it with his own as he settles them against his stomach, soft cotton rubbing at his fingertips, “s’just bad memories.”

“Well, whoever it was, I’m sorry.” You tell him honestly. “They’re missing out.”

Tom smiles sadly, looking over at you briefly.

“Piss off,” He says softly, shoving at your thigh with no real strength, “s’not fair.”

“What isn’t?”

“You gettin’ to flirt with me, but you always tease me when I do the same.” He explains, cheeks blushing a faint shade of pink.

It’s the similar pink that happens when he’s out in the wind for too long, settling in the apples of his cheeks and staying for a while.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asks curiously, “M’not trying to pry or anything, but—“

“Think I held her back,” Tom admits, “She loved me in the beginning.”

“And it just faded out?” You try to perceive where the story is going, but Tom shakes his head.

“Nah, it was kinda sudden.” He explains, glaring up at the ceiling, “I don’t see her for a while and then she comes back and it’s like—she hates being here. It was good those couple days but I think whatever she’d been dealin’ with had been there the whole time.”

“That’s not your fault,” You tell him, “her problems aren’t your problems, whatever they were.”

“Took me a while to put it all together, but she thought I was cheating—I mean, who does that?” Tom asks with a strain to his voice, frustration lining his tone. It seemed like a sore subject, but Tom powered through. If he didn’t want to talk about it, he wouldn’t.

“Cheat? Loads, Tom.” You emphasize, “And I’m speaking from experience, it’s not fun.”

“I’m not like that,” Tom insists, “I couldn’t—I didn’t even think about that stuff. I loved her.”

“Did she cheat on you?” You ask carefully, wondering if you're straying too far into territory that wasn’t yours to venture into.

“I dunno,” He shrugs, “She started hangin’ out with this girl and getting teasy for no reason—maybe she expected it to be different here.”

“I like it here,” You shrug, “it’s quiet—people are nice.”

Tom smiles at that, noticing how your eyes trailed toward him. You sit up slowly, crossing your legs in front of you.

“Felt like I was forcing her to love me,” Tom says, voice teetering of sadness that clogged his throat, “some days we’d be okay and then others she would throw herself at me—like she was tryin’ to make up for acting distant.”

“How so?” You ask.

People showed their love differently, so you couldn’t really judge. You were just trying to understand.

“It’s embarrassing,” Tom admits, shaking his head at the thought, “she came home late one night and tried to—“ Tom gestures to his groin vaguely, “I couldn’t get into it.”

“That’s not your fault,” You shrug, backpedaling for a moment, “well, technically—yeah. But, if you weren’t feeling it, that’s not something for you to get upset about.”

“And then sex was,” Tom starts, looking over at you, gauging your expression, “—is it weird if I talk about this? Don’t want you feelin’ uncomfortable.”

“Tom, we’ve talked about everything. You’re not gonna have me running away at the first mention of sex. You thinkin’ I’m some kinda prude?” It’s teasing and playfully in tone, but Tom is straight-faced, sincere. “It’s not weird.”

“We’d kiss for a while, she’d make some excuse to go to the bathroom—brushing’ her teeth or something else, but then she’d come back and she couldn’t look at me.” Tom says, eyes straining slightly as he roamed around the room briefly, blinking the dryness out of his eyes, “anyways, ‘nough that.”

You laugh slightly, rocking in place as you stare down at him.

It’s the most he’s opened up since you met him, part of it feels forced—like he’s trying to clear up for his standoffish behavior, why he comes off a little forward, but it’s never bothered you.

“Got a pretty lady right here and I’m boring her to death over my ex-girlfriend.” He says, taking a stab at himself, “That’s not kind of me.”

“Kind?” You tease, poking at his side, “You? Never.”

“What about you?” Tom asks innocently, turning on his side now, knees grazing his torso. His right hand rests against your leg as he settles in a similar position to how you were earlier, paying full attention to you. “Some bloke break your heart?”

“Break? Not really. He was an ass and slept around on me every week. Took me a few months to catch on. But, there was never anything there.” You explain, “I got a nice job out here, destroyed his ego when I dumped him in front of friends, and never looked back.”

Tom grins widely, “Damn, that’s cruel.”

“He was fuckin’ them in my apartment. That shit was justified.” You tell him, the endearment is a little patronizing on your tongue. “Don’t cross me, Tom. You’ll regret it.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it.” Tom replies flirtatiously, letting you drag your fingers through his short cropped curls, eyes falling shut at the touch. “Wouldn’t ever—you’re too sweet of a girl.”

“As far as you know.” You counter, his eyes peeking open briefly to look at you, teeth peeking through his smile. It makes your heart melt, his features soften every time he looks at you. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?” Tom asks, knowing full well.

“Giving me the eyes,” You chuckle softly, “If you want to fuck me just say so—I hate dancing around that shit.”

“You’re something.” Tom notes, squeezing at your thigh gently.

The touch had become normal, something you both seeked after long meals and tiring work days. But this, it had your stomach fluttering and ignited a deep, unfurling pit in your stomach.

“What, are you scared of me?” You ask teasingly, flicking at the collar of his shirt as you graze his chin. It had only ever been playful touches, some suggestive touching and the one time that he kissed you on the cheek when you left his place after a late night, delirious from sleep and not really thinking.

Still, you thought about it every time you looked at him. Tom was as honest as they came, open to anything, willing to do whatever to make you comfortable. It was everything you weren’t used to but also everything you wanted.

“I don’t bite,” You tell him quietly, “not unless you ask for it.”

Tom pulls his bottom lip between his teeth slightly, smothering the laugh that escapes, attempting to cover up for the obvious surprised noise that tried to come out.

“And if I do?”

Your eyebrows raise slightly, daring him.

“Because I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t.” He admits, his hand trailing dangerously higher up your thigh, your hands having moved behind you, watching his movements.

“Then I’d say you’re in for it,” You confess, “you may not survive me, you know.”

“Soundin’ like a good way to go.” Tom replies confidently, his fingers dipping past the hem of your sweatpants, grazing the thin fabric of your underwear. “Show me?”

He’s not asking for anything in particular. He wants everything,

You bite at the inside of you check, considering how deeply this could affect your friendship with Tom—and as much as you tried to think about the cons, it was outweighed by the pros. It was a long, endless list that you couldn’t even begin to speak on—the only thing that mattered was that Tom wanted this, just as badly as you did.

You hadn’t been with anyone in a few months, let alone touched in any type of way—the kiss on the cheek was the closest you got to anything in a while. So, even with Tom’s gentle, fleeting touches, you were already willing to do just about anything to prove to Tom how much he deserved to have someone who cared, somehow who wasn’t going to flee from him without an explanation.

You hand grazes over his jeans testingly, the fabric worn from constant use, frayed at the thighs and thinning. He’s already hard under the line of his zipper, jaw clenching at the slightest bit of friction.

“How long?” You ask curiously, undoing his jeans silently.

Tom watches on, turning to his back to give you more room.

“A couple months,” He admits, “got on with a girl out at the bar after I had too many beers, don’t remember much if’m being honest.”

You nod, Tom speaks softly, “And Ruth—Ruth, she never liked to—“

“Touch you?”

“Or I touch her, not really.”

You tilt your head, wondering who could resist someone like him. He was sweet to the core, staring up at you with his hopeless eyes, wide with adoration.

“Let’s fix that, yeah?” You ask, earning a jerky nod from Tom.

He lifts his head slightly, propping himself up on his arms as he watches you tug at his jeans until he can kick them the rest of the way, your hand coming up to cup over the strained tent in his underwear, squeezing gently.

“That’s, fuck—“ Tom sighs, “this isn’t going to last long, ‘m sorry.”

“It will.” You assure him, smiling with a devious intent that should scare him away, but it only entices him further.

You settle over his legs, spread wide on your knees as you pull his underwear down the rest of the way, cock springing free and upright toward his stomach, the tip matching the vibrant blush in his face. He stares up at you nervously, hands dragging up his thighs teasingly.

“You’ve got a pretty cock, Tom.” You comment, watching as he stumbles to find his words. “Anyone ever told you that?”

He shakes his head slowly, your delicate fingers wrapping around the base, the skin like soft velvet under your touch. He’s not nearly as good at keeping his composure as you thought, letting out a small groan as you touched him.

You squeeze gently, hand slipping up to squeeze at the the tip, thumb rubbing over the slit at the head of his cock, rubbing the small amount of precum there, making the slide down all the more torturous.

“Love, that’s so fuckin’—“

You nod knowingly, just as affected despite that lack of touch. Your thighs squeezed together desperately, mouth watering at the thought of him heavy against your tongue, what he tasted like—it was impossible not to think about.

“Can I—or do you not like that?”

Tom doesn’t hesitate, not even for a second as he watches you eye his cock in your hand, licking your lips as you parted them.

“Please, please—“ He all but rushes out, “that’s, yeah, of course.”

You snort at his eagerness, relaxing himself over your lap as you take him in your mouth slowly. First your tongue, dragging it up the line of his shaft, swirling over the head slowly, repeating the process a few more times until you finally decide to take him in your mouth, the moan that escapes him is desperate, noisy, need—his fingers dragging at your hair, pushing it away gently. His hands follow the slow bob of your head, never pushing or pulling, only feeling.

And he’s mouthy, mewling all sorts of noises alongside his words. It doesn’t surprise, given how much he can talk your ear off. Though, this is so much better.

“God, it’s been ages, fuck—“ Tom grunt softly, head falling back against the pillow, fingers rubbing tenderly through your hair, silence filled with the obscene noises of your mouth on his dick, “told ya I won’t last long.”

You lean down briefly, taking his balls into your mouth, tongue rolling over the tight skin and forces and strained moan from his chest, the grip on your hair tightening slightly. You can feel the muscles in his thighs flex, the quickening in his breath—so you pull back, a vivacious grin on your face.

“What?” Tom asks flippantly, his deep cornish accent peeking through, “S’goin on? I was there.”

“I know,” You nod slowly, “It’s the whole point.”

“M’sorry?” He asks, eyebrows falling together in confusion.

“Have you never edged yourself?” You ask curiously. “Got close and stopped? Nothing?”

“That sounds horrid,” Tom admits, “Isn’t cumming the whole point?”

“Well, yeah—“ You squeeze at the base of him gently, punching a huff out of his chest as his eyes roll toward the ceiling, hands clenched into fists at his side, “but this is more fun, don’t you think?”

“Sounds like you want to torture me.” Tom notes, losing the last bit of sanity he had left when your mouth closes over the head of his cock again, tongue swirling lightly. “—N’ here I was calling you sweet.”

You grin darkly, “I can make you cry, if that’s what you really want.” It wouldn’t be the first time, definitely not the last. Most of the time you did it to be petty, bring a man to a primal state of begging just to embarrass them. But for Tom, it was more than that.

He’d never really been touched, not like this. He’s had his fair share of encounters, and his relationship with Ruth spanned a long part of his teenage years, but there was always something missing. There was always a sort of shame behind wanting things for himself and not asking, feeling like an ass for voicing his needs, so he didn’t. You didn’t need to ask him because you saw it everyday, always putting himself second for anything and anyone. Besides, you wouldn’t mind forcing a few tears out of him, a few breathless pleas.

He was already halfway there, it seemed. Tom had his eyes squeezed shut, fists still clenched at his sides as you bobbed your head slowly, eyes flicking up to watch the muscles in his jaw tense, blush traveling down his neck.

“Gotta slow down,” He begs weakly, “s’too much.”

“You sound alright to me,” You tell him snarkily, licking a long slow stipe up his cock, “should I stop?”

“No, no, no—“ Tom quickly answers, hands reaching for your head as you move, “just—I,” He sighs, feeling like a sap for saying what’s on his mind, “I’d rather have you up here.”

Sex wasn’t totally off the table, but it hadn’t been on your mind.

“Do you have condoms?” You ask, earning a slow head shake from him. The last thing you needed was a baby by someone you’ve only known for less than six months.

“You can uh—you don’t have to take your clothes off or anything,” Tom starts, “we could, just like—“

“I haven’t done that since high school, Tom.” You answer with a faint laugh, bubbly and free of judgment. “But, it’s really our only option.”

Tom breathes a heavy sigh of relief as you sit up, slipping your sweatpants down your hips and off your legs, his calloused hand traveling up your thigh as you settled over his groin, hard cock pressed against the thin cotton of your underwear, sticky with the small wet patch that had grown there, much to your own embarrassment. You hadn’t even touched yourself, or he you, and you were already just as needy. You push his shirt higher up his chest, pale skin hot to the touch, fingers dragging through the small trail that led down to his dick, hips heavy against him as you dragged your hips once, twice.

“Oh, fuck,” Tom sighs loudly, fingers gripping your hips tightly, “tits—can I see your tits?”

And no one’s ever asked in such a polite way, you can’t help but chuckle, nodding eagerly. You slip the shirt over your head, breasts bouncing freely, having forgotten your bra at home in rush over to his place. They were all in the wash, thank god.

“Beautiful,” He notes, his voice low and rough, leaning up to mouth the flesh, plush pink lips pressing against your skin, “s’like the rest of you. Perfect.”

“Tom.” You warn lightly, feeling your own face heat at his compliments.

“It’s true, love.” He tells you, eyes connecting with your face briefly, eyes vulnerable as he stares up at you. It’s the most expressive part of his face, mesmerizing, to say the least. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

You nod slightly, “I know, I know.” You respond, “M’not used to people saying stuff like that to me, never know how to respond.”

“Don’t.” He assures you, “As long as you know.”

And you’ve never felt love this strongly, this early—it could be because of the situation, given your heightened state of connection, but those three words rest on your tongue heavily.

It’s a slow gradual rise as you grind against him, pressing against you in just the right way, clit catching the head of his cock with every pull back of your hips. Tom’s a mess, murmuring words that don’t make sense, soft noises, not having the strength to hold himself up any longer as he rests back against the pillow, grip tightening on your hips as you ride it out, stopping briefly when he starts to squirm a little more than usual.

It goes on for forever, it feels like. In reality, it was only about a half hour, watching Tom fall apart every time you denied his release, nearly to the point where he’s gasping at every touch, wicked pleas turning into desperate whines.

“I can’t.” Tom concedes, eyes brimming with tears, face excessively flushed, “Need it—please?”

You nod, impatient yourself as his hands travel up to touch you, thumb finding your clit over the fabric—it amazes you how he has no trouble at all when feeling out your body, despite how new this was to both of you.

“Fuck, you’re just as bad,” Tom notes with a breathy laugh, it quickly dying out with a rough snap of your hips, chasing your own orgasm selfishly, “take it, come on.”

Take what you need. Take all of it. Tom would give you everything if you let him.

It hits you fast, hard, eyes squeezing shut as you whimpered a soft ‘Fuck.’, fingers finding his wrist for purchase as you rocked your hips one final time—Tom watches your face as you come, which does him in immediately. He blinks hard, watery eyes lending a few tears to escape as he finally breathes in relief, coming in long spurts over his stomach and ruining his shirt in the process, though it’s the last thing on his mind.

“Not how I thought this night would go,” Tom admits with a lazy smile, rubbing at your thighs gently, pointing out how ruined your underwear were now, covered in a mix of slick, yours and his, “come here.”

You slump forward weakly, hands sprawling out over his head as you rest on your arms, nose grazing his. “Me neither.”

“You’re really good at that.”

You snort a tired laugh, “I’ve made many men cry—gotta admit though, you’re the prettiest.”

“Fuck off,” He laughs, reaching up to press a soft, gentle kiss to your lips, “shit hurts after a while.”

Your eyebrows raise, as if trying to prove your point.

Tom grins, attempting to hide his face in your neck. He’s never been this shy until now and it melts your heart.

“You can take a shower here,” He tells you, “sleep too, if you don’t want to mess with the drive.”

“Clothes?” You ask curiously, knowing you didn’t bring any spares.

“No, no—that’s where I draw the line.” He jokes, failing to hide his obvious smile. “‘Course, take what you need.”

“This doesn’t change anything,” You tell him honestly, watching his expression blank for a moment, “I still want my dinners, too.”

Oh.

Tom nods fervently, “Got it. Not like you could do without my cooking now, anyways. You get pissy when it’s your turn.”

You gasp slightly in shock, taken back by the jab and slapping his chest lightly.

“Don’t get coarse with me,” You warn playfully, “or I can make it a lot worse for you.” Unfortunately for you, Tom was already diving in head first. He didn’t care.

“Sounds like a challenge.” Tom counters, “I’m sure I could take you on.”

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

[oneforthemunny]

Always wanted to ask, how does each Eddie's house/apartment look like; where do you envision each of them living?

dom!eddie i picture living in a trailer sorta similar to wayne's. less stuff if that makes sense, since he hasn't lived there as long??? very boy decorated. mismatch, hand-me-down furniture. he tries to make it homey and tapes pictures of you and him on the wall lol. no frame, just packing tape and it's sweet and a little funny. quilts on the bed he got from wayne, posters in his room- maybe the living room. not a throw pillow in sight until you move in lol. probably like one plate, one fork, one spoon, one knife type vibe lol. very boy coded.

janitor!eddie i picture the same vibe as before (i'll call dom!eddie the default) until he moves in with you. i think it would be a small home. two bedrooms (technically three if you count the small 'office' space that you turned into a room). no garage, but he built a covering for you. it's very homey. he built shelves in the living room for all your books (i fuckin' lost the book blurb if anyone has it lol). lots of pictures on the wall, over the mantle. really just a very homey cozy vibe, and i'll leave how that looks up to you :)

older!eddie also has a house. it's not huge by any means, bigger than average. like a one story, three or four bedroom, two and a half bath kinda vibe. he got it after the divorce and he could afford it. he wanted brielle to have her own space and have some extra room for the hopeful future, and he's glad he did. probably very bare minimum as well before you moved in. like a nicer couch- no throw pillows, maybe one throw brielle bought at target, like one of those cheap ones from the $5 section lol. pictures of brielle in frames, but that's the only decor. not even a doormat. two flat ass pillows on the bed, but in nice sheets. a toothbrush holder, hand soap, and no towel on the bathroom. has a music room with his guitar and stuff, garage full of tools to do oil changes and stuff if he needs to. one half broken plastic laundry basket, and candles brielle brings home from bath and body works lol. please tell me you're getting the vibe lol.

mafia!eddie is a 180 entirely. ENTIRELY. mansion. he built it so it's new, but he wanted it to look gothic and ominous as fuck. like very unapproachable. dark exterior, steel gates at the front of the property. he bought land out in the middle of the woods in hawkins, off the beaten path for sure so you wouldn't see the entrance unless you were looking for it type? lots of dark red oriental carpets, red sheets, mahogany wood, chandeliers that are kinda dramatic and dark. all the furniture looks victorian but dark. i think it's mentioned in curiosity killed the cat that he was going for a vibe that was "a mix between dracula and the godfather" lol. large book shelves, candle opera lighting, dark grand stair well, bear skin rug (with the head bc he thought it looked sick). large, tall windows but all the glass is one way glass so it looks even freakier from the outside. very gothic victorian chic.

rockstar!eddie ok so pre-kids- he had a home in malibu, a penthouse in la. owns a couple different properties bc why not. he hired someone to decorate, but really it's like he put weird shit in there lol. like very rockstar- bachelor pad coded. like there's a fifty thousand dollar imported couch... next to light sabers on the wall that he won at a bidding bc they were used in a movie. bedroom is very... interesting lol. def has a waterbed in at least one room. has a bed post with clips for his... activities lol. probably a hook for a sex swing too. then a whole music memorabilia type room. plaques, his achievements, but also things he's collected.

tamed rockstar!eddie with kids- he lets nb decorate mainly but he also adds a few things. he designs the sex dungeon and it does in fact look like a dungeon. dramatic ass lighting, literal chain cuffs on the wall, a bed that with thick posts, mirror on the ceiling, a whole wall of toys. it's so him, like his mind. then he also has a studio in his basement. really, it started bc when he started having kids, he didn't want to leave his house. didn't want to drive into the city to record, so had one put there bc why not? he's got the $$ lol. he also gets the flowers pressed from their three weddings, the baby showers, any really big achievement- he'll get a bouquet made and pressed and preserved. nb always hangs them and decorates with them, and it makes him so proud lol.

bouncer!eddie lives in an apartment. it's very sketch, very cheap. like one bedroom, one bath, tiny ass kitchen and little living room. he literally just lives there. no personal touches beside a tv, a boombox. mattress on the ground, card table and folding chairs, leftover box as a nightstand, towel as a bath mat. he mainly stays at your place so he's not too worried about it, but the first time you come in, you're a little horrified.

cowboy!eddie- i know this is going to sound cliche but if you've ever seen the ranch on netflix lol. that's what i picture. like that wooden, ranch style house. a little older, i think it's been renovated since it was built like forever ago. small screened in porch, wooden dutch doors. a sun room in the back of the house with some house plants. an older couch and recliner, a wooden heater stove in the living room- it was apart of the original design of the house so he kept it, even with the ac/heating unit. patterned quilts on the bed, old school floral sheets that came with the house lol. really, he didn't do much to it besides add a few of his things when he moved in, because it was his grandparent's home before his.

modern!eddie had an apartment close to the park for a very small time. roomed with gareth, and then once he started staying with you, he didn't stay there anymore. probably didn't have a bed, but a futon they put in one of the rooms and had all their gaming stuff in it. he's victim of the striped, blue comforter that's faded as hell. has a rick and morty poster he put on the wall with thumb tacks. tv on the ground with his gaming stuff, wires everywhere. a closet that has shit spilling out of it. very messy lol.

[exo-raskreia]

you'll probably won't see this message but i'll send it anyway lol.. i love you speak your mind about how the ichihime ship isn't that great and has all the facts to bring it show that you're right. i always felt scared to say i don't ship ichihime cuz they're are alot of shippers that can get so intense about it. i always say that ichihime is a cute ship and they have their moments(i don't feel that way at all lol) cuz i don't want to be attacked for not liking how their story played out. twitter is a scary place oml💀 and they made me sorta believe that ichiruki doesn't have any chemistry and they're just siblings when i knew in my heart like yes they do have chemistry and are the superior ship. like ichigo cares more for chad and uryuu then orihime. but since their canon, i guess their love for each other is supposed to be legit. apparently ichigo sees his mother in orihime so i don't understand why that's not a turn-off for the shippers😭so yeah thanks for making me go back in my bleach fangirl era and making my 10-year old self to not feel guilty and stupid shipping ichiruki

Wow, thanks so much, anon! And ur welcome! I will forever be on IchiRuki's side no matter what anyone says 😤.

You don't have to be scared to support what was, and still is, the most popular ship in Bleach (and rightfully so). There was no real ship war during its run (despite what the antis try to claim now), as IR was shipped by most of the fanbase. IR had everything you could hope a M/F ship to have in a battle shounen, the most solid basis for becoming canon with just one more step...and yet... (Kubo fumbled 🙄). The theories on that are interesting...

While more than half the IR fandom is no longer active after that disastrous ending, it doesn't mean they're not still out there. I've seen even non-shippers still praise IR & see it as wasted potential & whatnot (triggering antis in the process 🤭). Not being canon doesn't take away from the fact that it is still the superior ship. Anyone with reading comprehension who reads the manga will see it & wonder why they didn't end up together.

IH was never popular in Japan. It was always far below IchiRuki & UlquiHime (Ori's most popular ship 👀. Kubo achieved in ONE arc what he couldn't achieve for IH the entire manga, like-). To this day, those 2 ships get more content than the canon ships 😌.

The antis are just triggered that despite becoming canon, their ship is still. not. popular. IH doesn't have nearly as much content (both canon AND fanon) as IR & UH despite being canon for almost 10 years. Yes, Kubo himself doesn't care enough to give them even one family sketch 🫢.

Compare that to the Naruto endgame ships (mainly NaruHina & SasuSaku), which have way more official AND fan content. Those were always popular, & still are, 10 years later since becoming canon. Pro-Bleach ED fans love to compare their ships with Naruto's yet are nowhere near as popular.

The IH's really thought they would get the NaruHina royal treatment after the ending (you know, like a movie, official drawings from the creator, interviews saying they were meant to be, merch, etc.), but instead only got a novel that wasn't even focused on them (Ren/Ruki is more popular than IH but mainly because of Rukia 🤣), which vaguely went over their so-called "development" & had chicken scratches a rough draft of a sketch for their ship 🫢. Kubo also said in an interview that IH tried dating in college once but then broke up, later getting back together at some point. Super vague. And mind you, all this happened AFTER Rukia's wedding 🫢👀. So, we can only guess what was going through Ichigo's mind- Doesn't sound like Ichigo was all that interested, huh? Yet the IH's claim he was madly in love with her & "came back to life for her" & whatnot. Almost 10 years later & Kubo still can't be clear on when Ichigo supposedly started to "fall" for Ori despite being his "intended" endgame 💀.

The WDKALY novel has such OOC content on there, like it can't be taken seriously. Apparently, Kubo barely had any involvement with it anyway? Those sketches he drew sure are telling, esp if he calls his drawings here as a "rough draft" 💀

"Chicken scratches" for the canon ships, fr 😭.

RR is another dumpster fire but also more meh for me so I don't have to delve into that one, however, here's a post I once made where I go over why I don't truly believe Renji had feelings for Rukia. Meanwhile, Rukia's sad expression on the novel cover & the sketch of heading to the altar with a scared expression (not even when she was headed to her own execution did she look like THAT) say it all anyway 🫢.

Oh, man, there's just so much to make fun of for the canon ships. Even when we lose, we still win. IH's have no content, so maybe that's why they're so bitter & IR & its shippers still live in their minds rent-free despite them calling it a "dead ship". You would think they'd happily enjoy their canon ship & yet... They get triggered whenever IR fanart garners thousands of likes on Twitter 😩...

So, anon, I suggest not to engage with antis, esp on platforms like Twitter & Reddit. They're cesspools full of dudebros & loud IH's. Ignore, block, &/or mute them. No need to try arguing with them & please do NOT cater to them. Do NOT give them the validation they don't even get from Kubo himself, nor his affiliates (LMFAO). Use that energy to look for other fellow IR's & enjoy IR content (and maybe anti-IH content in the right places; you can explore that tag on my blog if u wish 🤪).

As an old saying in this fandom went, "Keep Calm & Ship IchiRuki."