#and that forming habits is what matters most. HOWEVER my brain will go where the dopamine is so i must manifest staying locked in as well

[johnslittlespoon]

Hello, I need to know how long do you plan TaS to be? Or maybe how many chapters will it be? Because I need to get mentally prepared for the end from now on otherwise I think I'll have a panic attack when one day you say we're at the end of the fic. 😬 Of course if you don't know or the plan is changing it's alright, just want to ask. 😇

PLS this made me gigggleeee but we're gonna have to buckle up bc as of now it's looking like it's gonna be btwn 20–30 chapters LOL. i have no good guesses for word count since the chapter lengths seem to fluctuate between 8–25k atp but we're in for the long haul according to my outline doc (which is at 36k words in itself lmfaooo)

the plan def changes every so often but mostly just little things because i have the whole fic planned out from start to finish! so i can't give an exact chapter count since often i end up having to split chapter plans into two, but that's my best guesstimate atm, and i'll ofc post about it when we start getting closer to the end.

if it helps, i'm planning for the length of this fic to span from july 2005 to sometime in the summer of 2006 (excluding the epilogue), so when the dates at the start of chapters start creeping into june... you'll know we're nearing the end </33 i'm so Afraid LOL

[so-mordor-itis]

I SAW THE PROMPT LIST AND

“can’t sleep?” + “promise me you’re still gonna be here when I wake up.”

for our boy leon..

- yes to heaven anon 🤍

Man I thought of an idea and I definitely couldn't get it out of my head so I hope you enjoy this <3

Reader and Leon are from Eye on You

I changed up the prompt a little bit I hope that's okay!

"Hush, love, close your eyes and in sleep abide"

1998

Cold air blew across your shoulders the moment you entered the hospital room. Heavy bleach and the smell of utensils wafted through you, making your shoulders sag. It was hard not to be nervous in a room where the most urgent news was carried, where the bloodied and sickly were told how their life might end. You fiddled with the helm of your sleeve when you saw Leon under the thin, blue sheets of a bed, the sky blue of a hospital gown underneath bandages scattering from his shoulder to his chest.

You immediately hated the image of it.

His eyes were closed, and you had hoped he was getting the rest he needed.

Visitors besides family weren't allowed past 8, but you fibbled a little, stating you were his lover and definitely considered family. It wasn't a full lie since he did ask you out, but you knew he would ask questions when he was more aware of what you did. You'd walk across that bridge when you'd get there.

You sat in a chair beside his bed. It groaned as you did. You sighed a little of relief when it didn't disturb his slumber. Part of you wanted to take in the peace before the storm, before he opened up the can of worms and told you what exactly happened to him. A deep pit formed in your stomach at the possibilities. The wound on his shoulder wasn't ordinary. You weren't stupid.

Regardless of what would happen next, you'd be there for him.

You bit your lip to prevent yourself from laughing at your boldness. Since when had you grown so attached to him?

You shook your thoughts away. None of that mattered. You strapped yourself in this ride, and you would see it through.

You scooted your chair closer to brush some stray bangs from his face. Your heart nearly gave out when he shuffled closer.

Yep, you were strapped in for good.

2005

You didn't really dream anymore. Visions of fantasies created from your own consciousness were replaced with memories. Most were pleasant; your high school graduation, when you first met Leon--before the mess with Raccoon City. That one wasn't as often as it used to be. Perhaps now because you found tranquility with everything. How he went from this springy, happy-go-lucky man to someone who was more guarded but still had that young man deep down. Leon just only showed him to those he trusted. You probably were allowed to gaze at that young man more than others.

Your eyes fluttered open with disagreeable ease, a stinging sensation crowded around them once the realization you were awake kicked in. You moved your legs a little in an attempt to find comfort, but a small barrier from behind made it difficult. You couldn't help the smile forming on your lips.

Protective arms wrapped around your form, creating a cage. One leg was propped against your own, the other beneath. Over the years, Leon made it a habit of being as close as he could get, and while you didn't mind this, he sometimes didn't realize how much of a human space heater he was. You always felt safe despite that.

You wanted to stay in this position to feel his gentle breathing and let it lull you back to sleep as if it were a lullaby, but the urge to remove yourself and stretch your legs became more palpable.

However, you knew what would happen the moment you detached yourself from his cage. Leon would immediately know--an alarm would sound in his brain, and he'd wake up to empty arms and immediately search for you like a lost puppy. You'd then feel guilty for waking him. This song and dance had been done more than once.

Your mind and body fought for a second, but ultimately, your body won the argument. You shuffled your way out of his arms and sat up, your vision still adjusting to the darkness of the bedroom. An image from the recent memory that woke you flashed in your mind, and you frowned.

Not what you wanted to see.

You crossed the threshold to access the kitchen. The clock on the stove glared 4:35 at you. You grabbed a plastic cup from a cupboard and filled it as quietly as you could. You took a sip as you tossed a glance toward the archway that led to the living room.

After nearly 7 years together, you knew his mind and his thought process. You had your own Leon clock planted inside your head, and it made you wonder if he had one for you in his own.

Any minute now. You thought, guilted poked at your chest. You truly hated waking him up. While it gave you ingress to his sleepy voice and pillow-made messy hair, he desperately deserved rest.

You took another sip and frowned again. Of all memories that could've popped up, why that one? The one of him in a hospital bed, bloodied arm wrapped in a guaze, pale face from all the medications he was pumped with. It wasn't your favorite memory for good reason.

As if right on cue, you heard shuffling and a yawn. "Baby?" Leon called, his voice still loopy. Nearly 30, and he still sounded so young when he was filled with sleep.

"In here," you uttered, your own voice hoarse. "Just getting water."

More shuffling, and finally, he emerged from the darkness of the hallway. He dirty blond hair was askew, and he blinked as his own eyes were adjusting to the dim lighting of night. You showed him a simper. "I woke you up again, sorry." His vulnerability still made you feel silly butterflies.

Leon just shook his head. "Don't worry about it. Couldn't sleep?"

You shrugged. "Just needed water. I didn't have a nightmare, if that's what you're asking."

"Just making sure you're okay."

"I thought that was my job." You teased. He returned your grin with a small smile of his own.

"If you're not in need of comfort, then it's back to bed for you."

"What, am I in trouble?"

"Big time. I could be cuddling you right now, but no." Leon had approached you to tilt your head to him so he could kiss it.

"Hmm, maybe I'll stay up longer."

"Nope, not an option."

"Huh -" You placed the cup in the sink, paying him no mind, before he picked you up like a sack of potatoes, lifting you by your legs so you hung over his shoulder with ease. "Leon!" You didn't fight back, only smacked his arm lightly.

He didn't say anything as he playfully put you back on your side of the bed. Leon pulled you closer to him, mimicking the same position you were in previously, only this time he was facing you now. "That's better."

"What are you a teenager?"

"At heart."

You slumped in defeat, and he felt it. He chuckled as you snuggled into his chest. "Carrying me was unnecessary." You grumbled.

You wouldn't tell him about the memory. You didn't need to. It was a part of your past, a piece of a puzzle that began the shape of your life, but it shouldn't be brought up. Not anymore, at least.

You were with him now. He wasn't bloodied and bruised. His shoulder didn't carry a bullet.

Leon was alive.

That's all that mattered.

And you would be there when he woke up, just as he would for you.

~

|Tags:|

@seraphiism , @uhlunaro , @unhealthy-leon-brainrot , @mandalhoerian , @honeyfict , @konigbabe , @inaflashimagine , @boundinparchment , @justanother-fic , @izuniias , @leonskillshot ,

[myfirstnameisagent]

FALLING

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Angsty, Harm if you squint, I'm sorry y'all I'm going through it, cringey ending but we love angst in this garden

Summary: Bucky's struggle to cope finally catches up with him and costs him the thing he loves most; you.

Word Count: 646

Bucky Barnes had been known as many equally great and terrible things over the span of his overextended life time. He was the charming young man that all his mothers’ friends praised and adored,  and now a murderer. He’d been the starring captain of the neighborhood baseball team, now a cold blooded monster. The former best friend to the dazzling captain america, now his greatest burden. Okay, so maybe they weren’t equal. Regardless, he would of taken any one of those titles tattooed in bright red ink on his skin rather than the crumpled form seated on the floor and against the wall. His fingers almost scratching at the flesh covering his chest in an attempt to ease the throbbing within. Breaths were short, eyes squeezed shut. Arguably, he usually only was brought to such a weakened state by nightmares or those terrible moments that a memory from his HYDRA days. 

However, he would of taken any single one of those in comparison to the look on your face, the one permanently etched into his brain. Every emotion shimmering through large tears might as well have been large pieces of shattered glass straight into his chest, driven all the way through until it reached the aching organ behind a bone cage. 

The former soldier had taken many approaches to slowly piece his life back together (well, what he thought was a life, his therapist had very different ideas), and to his fatal flaw, he’d used your kind heart as his foundation. He’d always had a habit of doing it, whether it was before the war rooting his whole life and building his life around taking care of Steve, or now by only trusting you to be the one good thing he had in his life. But as the usual pattern unfolded, the cruelties of the fates had taken his parents, his sister, Steve, and what seemed to be anyone else who mattered. 

“I can’t do this anymore James.” Shaky breaths rattled your form and equally shaky hands formed clenched fists at your sides. “I am a grown woman, I don’t need you deciding where I go and who I spend my time with, like some fucking dictator!”

His head hit the wood behind him, the throbbing from how hard he’d done so almost a welcome relief from how his insides were turning inside out. Mismatched hands ran up his face and through his hair, abdomen clenching with the strength of his sobs, and he really wasn’t sure when he’d started crying. 

 You really had done your best, and he couldn’t fault you for that. You’d taken every single broken piece in your hand, carefully examining each one. However, you were tired of cutting your pretty fingers on such jagged edges. 

It wasn’t like he’d made it easy for you either, with how what his therapist had reasoned was HYDRA still continuing to make a mess of his life. His inability to let you be anywhere by yourself, distrusting almost anybody that even tried to come near you. He’d seen the terrors the world had to offer, hell he has been said terrors, and he’d be damned if he let any of them reach out and put out the only bright flame in a very dark and cold life. However, in doing so he’d managed to smother it out himself. Somewhere in it all, his love for you had in turn become shackles for you, not being able to turn around for a single moment without him standing right there.

Claws of shame dug themselves further into his chest, knowing he was pathetic mess for having such a reaction to a woman walk out of his life. But you weren’t ever just a woman, were you? No you’d found a way to become his hope, his lifeline, his home. Now he had none of the above, just a collection of broken fragments that no longer really belonged together. 

Bucky Barnes had been known for a lot of things in his life, but his favorite had been being yours.

[the-dalseum-duet]

prompt response #1: “cherry pits” & “glimmering pools of gasoline”

Thought I should do a little series where I write various scenes within my WIPs inspired by writing prompts that I find. Today I used a random number generator and the August prompts from @scealaiscoite, and I ended up with the prompts “cherry pits” and “glimmering pools of gasoline.”

Sonnet’s iridescent knife sliced through the plump cherry they held between their fingers. They pried out the pit with a coffin-shaped nail and plopped it into an old wine bottle, flicking the excess fluid onto the cold marble countertop. There was something cathartic about feeling the sweet crimson juice trail from the tip of their blade slowly down to their palms. 

The Court’s meeting wasn’t for another hour, but Sonnet knew their own habits. An hour alone to privately express their violent tendencies was necessary. It was unacceptable to threaten their husband on national television, after all. The Court was obsessed with its appearance. Everything was always about appearances.

Of course, The Court had to maintain its traditions. Their meeting room was lit by kerosene lamps older than most of Sonnet’s bloodline, and the lamps were adorned with ornate carvings of moon phases and various flowers. However, their beauty brought very little comfort to Sonnet. They unscrewed a small container of gasoline and began to refill the lamps. The Court meeting ahead of them was sure to be lengthy.

“Chea.” 

Sonnet reflexively jumped, their unstable hands spilling gasoline down their sheer burgundy skirt. They hadn’t heard the door behind them open. Or perhaps they did, and their brain blocked it out as some form of trauma-blocking defense tactic. 

“Why didn’t you knock?” Sonnet snapped, the choking odor of gasoline overpowering the sweetness of the cherry residue on their hands. 

“I didn’t think anyone was in here,” Noeul said, slowly circling his position at the head of the pristinely decorated table in the center of the room. He adjusted one of the studio lights above it. 

“My clothes are ruined,” Sonnet shallowly breathed, the gasoline soaking through their skirt onto their exposed stomach. 

“You have plenty,” Noeul gruffly laughed as he ever-so-slightly readjusted all of Sonnet’s painstaking decorations. He glanced up at his spouse and tilted his head, his black eyes reflective under the heavy lights. 

“You cut your hair,” he whispered, softly rapping his fingers on a porcelain plate. “You cut your fucking hair.”

And Sonnet had cut their hair. As of two nights ago, their hair was a baby pink that was almost white, and it fell just to their shoulders. Their unassuming silky waves had been reduced to a thickly layered style that fell just above their ears, the exceptionally short underside dyed an almost shimmering violet. 

“You treated me like an irresponsible child the other night. If I am going to be treated as one, then I might as well act the part,” Sonnet replied, quickly unlacing the back of their top. 

“You don’t look like yourself,” Noeul said. “You look like an irresponsible child. Your creative vision was spot-on.”

“My creative vision was whatever would piss you off the most,” Sonnet scoffed, instinctively ruffling the back of their hair. Noel stiffly smiled, his thin lips peeling back to reveal his sharp molars. 

“This behavior was exactly what got us into this shitshow in the first place,” Noeul said.

“And whose behavior was that, again?” Sonnet skewered a cherry and placed it into the drinks they had prepared. They needed a distraction from their sopping clothes and equally irritating husband.

“It doesn’t matter now,” Noeul said, his voice raising. “It’s our shared responsibility to stabilize ourselves.”

“It’s also our shared responsibility to care for our daughter,” Sonnet mumbled, aggressively stabbing the cherries within their clutches. 

“What was that?” Noeul’s rapping on the dining ware intensified.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about,” Sonnet laughed, their eyes widening. 

“I did what was best for Marie,” Noeul barked, slamming his fist onto the table. A crack formed in one of the porcelain plates, splitting a painted blue flower. “Your hippie zen bullshit has no place in deciding the safety of my children.” 

Sonnet clasped their hands and slowly turned to face Noeul, their knife still tightly enclosed in their fingers. “If Marie believes in that ‘hippie zen bullshit,’ then she has every right to abide by its principles. She has the right to exist outside of a tower, damn it!”

“You don’t follow any religion but yourself, Chea. How is Marie supposed to practice something she’s never even seen?” 

“Because she hasn’t been corrupted yet!” Sonnet cried. “She still thinks there’s good in this place, Noeul. She’s a good kid. She’s not fucked in the head the way that you were at her age.”

Noeul blankly stared at Sonnet as they untied their shirt, eyes welling with tears. “She’s not a raging alcoholic, and she hasn’t had a million surgeries to make herself look ‘perfect,’ and she’s honest. She loves people. She loves her brother, Noeul. That is not a crime.”

“What Crow has done to this family is far worse than just a ‘crime.’” 

“I don’t care what Crow did. This isn’t about Crow anymore. You can’t possibly believe that a fifteen-year-old girl who you have purposely sheltered could understand what’s happening right now.”

“If she wants to act like she understands everything, then I will treat her like she does.”

“She’s a child, Noeul.”

“She’s the princess. When I was her age, I knew so much more than you think she does.”

“But Marie isn’t you, Noeul. She’s never going to be you.”

“I hope she isn’t. I hope she’s smart enough to marry someone with common fucking sense.” 

“I hope she’s smart enough to marry someone who isn’t drunk out of his mind during national broadcasts,” Sonnet murmured, kicking open the studio door. 

“There you go again, always mumbling. We can’t hear all the voices in your head, Chea. Only you can.”

“I’m going to change. I made cherry cordials. They’re on the counter.”

“I hate cherries.”

“I know.”

Sonnet slammed the door, leaving a glimmering trail of gasoline in their wake. The blinding reflection of the studio lights rattled. Noeul, however, remained perfectly upright as he bit into a stray cherry pit on the counter. Maybe the cyanide concentration would be enough to put him out of his misery. 

[neurospicywritingcollective]

An Introduction

Sometimes you need to go somewhere new to realize what is most important to you. Sometimes you need those new experiences to bring new life into you. Living in the same day to day routine can cause mental blocks that you may not even realize are there. It can become challenging to do the things that you love. 

For me, I am a writer. I eat, sleep, breathe writing. I am a writer by trade, as I write articles for a living. However, this eats away at me all the time. If you would have asked me growing up what I wanted to be, I would have told you I wanted to be an author. I wanted to publish books. I would be disgusted with myself that I haven't done any fiction writing since I earned my degree. I would be disgusted that I haven't published any fiction works. But it is the way of the world. I need to make money to pay bills. I am lucky that I have a job in my field, just not the industry I want. 

I have fought my way through imposter syndrome, feeling as though I could not be doing a good job even if I have the degree to know what I am talking about. But finally something clicked inside my brain that made me say "you know what, fuck it, I have a degree in writing, I have a writing job, no one can fucking say that I am not a writer. I have published works on the internet, even if they aren't what I wish they were." 

But I still struggle with that idea that I am not the writer I want to be. But I struggle creating. I am not in an environment that pushes me to create works of fiction. I spend hours each day working, and I don't want to sit around and write more at the end of it. Which I've been told that makes me a bad writer.  But I don't want to get burnt out. Writing is my passion, however, I can still be burnt out on it despite what many people believe. You can become burnt out on your passion. That doesn't mean anything is wrong with you, it just means everything is out of alignment. 

I do however want to get back into writing fiction. I love coming up with stories and writing them. I love working with characters and listening to them grow and develop inside my head. But getting back into that creative environment inside my head is difficult. 

Now being that I went to school to develop my writing skills I spent 6 years listening to various tips and tricks on how to be a better writer. I spent those years looking at those tips and wondering why they weren't working for me. Why couldn't I create a daily writing schedule. I tried. I'd wake up early and try to write. I'd stay up late to write. But then eventually I'd want to sleep and I would choose that over writing. Or I would have had to work. Something always found a way to distract me. Now most people told me that I never kept to it long enough to form a habit. Or they'd say I lacked the self discipline  to be a real writer. I'd feel defeated. All I have ever wanted to be was a writer. But how can I be a writer without a daily writing schedule? I can produce works with a deadline. But I'd wait until last minute to work on them. 

Fact of the matter is, those tips don't work for someone with a neurodivergant mind. They sound great and wonderful, But my mind races at a thousand miles a minute, bouncing from one topic to another that I will get distracted by a million things on my way to write. Nothing gets done. So why aren't there ways to help those of us who have some type of neurodivergence? Why is it neurotypical or nothing at all? I am a writer, and we all need ways to help us keep writing. Keep us excited. So that is what I aim to do. I want to create a place for us to keep writing even without the constant creative stimuli. I want a space where us writers can feel like the writers that we are, even if we aren’t perfect. 

[getfitnessgym]

The clouded side of the exercise centre

Fantasies: I should stay away from carbs to get in shape. On the off chance that I lift loads, I will look "massive". I need to tighten up .

I routinely work out and find powerlifting in the exercise centre very fulfilling; I love to perceive how my body changes shape as various muscle bunches answer my exercises. I've become mindful of a disturbing sensation at the rear of my brain, which makes me more worried about my psychological state when I'm not working out.

I realize that rest is both essential and valuable; it's when muscles modify and develop, forestall wounds, and upholds consistency (since you don't feel as obliged by a constant everyday practice). However, no matter what this information, I find it hard to give myself "personal time" from working out, much over bubbly periods or when I'm not feeling 100 per cent. I'm fortunate to be somebody who doesn't get harmed effectively, be that as it may, I wouldn't say I like the prospect of not having the option to prepare because of a supported physical issue.

Am I the one in particular that feels as such? I don't think so. Thus, I invested energy in exploring the reason for this disturbing sensation to recapture more command over my psychological state.

Here is the splendid side

You're possibly mindful of the advantages of activity — controlling your weight, combatting medical issues and supporting energy levels — yet emotional well-being benefits are frequently disregarded.

I most appreciate "that inclination" when I've completed an extreme exercise and feel depleted and phenomenal. In any case, what's filling that sensation? Indeed, I know that it's not only a response to a "great siphon"; it's the arrival of a class of cerebrum synthetic substances called endocannabinoids, which are otherwise called "relax, be cheerful" synthetic compounds.

In our cerebrums, a few regions direct our reaction to stress and uneasiness, the amygdala and the prefrontal cortex. These regions of the cerebrum are rich in endocannabinoid receptors. When these endocannabinoids arrive at these receptors, two things occur:

We experience a happy state of mind that causes us to feel content and decreases uneasiness.

We experience an expansion in dopamine, a synapse (our body's compound couriers) that assumes a critical part in the cerebrum's "reward framework".

Regarding psychological well-being, these substance responses manifest in more ways than one, including higher fearlessness, more inspiration, amiability, and expanded aversion to satisfaction.

What's more, here's the clouded side

Dopamine is habit-forming.

All the more explicitly, the sensation of remuneration and satisfaction we experience when we practice is habit-forming. The genuine concern is that it's a compounding phenomenon that can prompt more extreme circumstances, for example, dietary problems and body dysmorphia.

I'm not saying you shouldn't work out;

if you are dependent on anything, there are far more terrible things you could be dependent on. However, it's essential to know that practice dependence can begin quietly with an unrestrained craving for actual wellness. For instance:

You sort out a couple of times,

you feel perfect, you begin to eat better, and you feel improved. You figure out a couple of additional times and feel exhausted, so you take a rest day. On your rest day, you feel like you're being lethargic, so you go for light exercise. Etc.

This is how it begins;

I know from individual experience where it closes. In the best case scenario, you don't rest enough and deprioritize well-being in your daily practice, and to say the least, you feel a profound vibe of responsibility when you don't work out and over-examine an excessive number of parts of your life, for example, how you search in the mirror, how others see you and all that you eat.

How do I have any idea about that? This is because that is how I believe; I realize I'm an activity fiend.

It was most horrendously awful when I couldn't exercise I've been in past circumstances when I've been unable to work out. My most expanded period was when I needed to go through two hip arthroscopy tasks to fix an inborn (from birth) issue. I was on support or restoring on and off for the most fantastic aspect of two years — it was extreme.

During that time, I encountered what I could portray as melancholy, which was even more recognizable since I'm mostly hopeful. I encountered a large number of the signs that somebody going through melancholy would introduce, which include:

Mental side effects:

A steady low state of mind or trouble

Feeling sad and powerless

Low confidence

Tension

Hesitation and indifference

Being touchy or intolerant of others

Actual side effects: Changes in craving or weight, muscle exhaustion and touchiness, low energy, low charisma and upset rest.

Social side effects:

Low efficiency Participating in less-friendly exercises Disregarding leisure activities and interests and being hermitic

While it's enabling me to comprehend this, looking back, my anxiety is that I would feel similarly assuming I wound up experiencing the same thing now. Of considerably more concern is that I experience a portion of these sentiments (but gently) presently, in any event, when I take a solitary rest day — and I know I'm in good company.

Having addressed individuals similarly as excited about wellness, I know that many stress over not having the option to practice out of the blue and feel like a rest day rises to a terrible day (as opposed to one that is equitably great for your brain and body). What can be done Assuming that you understand this and (like me) a lot of it reverberates with how you feel, then, at that point, the most exciting thing we can furnish ourselves with is mindfulness. Familiarity with ourselves, the consciousness of our necessities and attention to everything others notice and say to us. That is the general purpose of this post; it's to make you and myself more mindful of what we're putting ourselves through and, afterwards, get it sufficiently early to take care of business.

In the soul of mindfulness, I need to cause you to notice a great article I found on Healthline that will assist you with distinguishing whether your activity propensities are coming from an unfortunate spot. What number of these signs do you relate to? (I'll put a next to the ones I connect with).

You work out to compensate for dinners or body parts you could do without

You're consistently at the rec centre.

You feel tired more often than not.

Your change intends to oblige your exercise plan.

Your sentiments about practice incorporate words like required, responsibility, nervousness, and unbending.

Your outcomes are lessening.

You have a negative self-perception

Supportively, the article likewise prescribes a few activities to handle practice fixation:

Keep a work diary to assist you with distinguishing sentiments and examples associated with working out.

Look for professional assistance. Indeed, this can be treated (which I'm a colossal promoter of). Yet, it could likewise be a wellness expert or fitness coach who could assist you with rearing better exercise propensities.

I will check the work diary out, particularly on days I compel myself to take a very much-procured rest — wish me karma!

[bl00dgutsgl0ry]

Let Me Feel You For a While

Pairing - Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Warnings - 18+ NSFW SMUT DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE A MINOR PLEASE!!! Breeding kink (im sorry), slight blood, marking/biting, accidental voyeurism? THIGH RIDING YES PLEASE, AND SHARP TEETH MAKE ME DROOL. Oh btw spoilers for the Farewell Archaic Lord I think? General spoiler warning for genshin.

Word Count - 1.7k.

 Other Comments - You guys have NO IDEA how much I love Zhongli oh my god I love him. I slept on him at first but ever since my eyes were opened I realized how wrong I was for that. Anyway enjoy!!

@sadpsychologist @barbqtos​

      Zhongli had money, he was just dumb and never brought it with him; too used to the routine of just making more Mora if he ever needed to buy anything while he was an Archon. This being said, that also meant he had one of the most elaborate bedrooms you’d ever laid eyes on. The room was filled with rich browns and shimmering golds, his bed sheets made from the finest silks. Archons never really slept, which meant the Zhongli had made this room as ethereal as possible just for you. 

     You were laying across the cold white gold sheets, hair clinging to your forehead from the sweat. Your fingers were dancing around your clit, rubbing harshly at times before dipping into your wet cunt and pumping them in and out roughly. You were so horny it was uncomfortable, and since you had gotten accustomed to your lover's large member, your fingers were doing much for you. You needed something better. You shakily stood from the bed, before kneeling down and pulling out the box and you guys only got into when the two of you were really in the mood. You quickly found what you were looking for, as it was the largest thing in the box. You pulled the dildo out of the box before quickly shoving the box back under your bed.

     Zhongli didn’t really like when you took matters into your own hands, as he wanted to always be the one thing that made you melt. He wanted to pleasure you in ways that you never would have imagined. At this point you were quickly pumping the dildo in and out of yourself, lost in the pleasure as you moaned out loudly. You weren’t worried about anyone hearing since you were alone in the house and Zhongli wasn’t going to be home for a while. You can imagine your shock and horror when you opened your eyes to see Zhongli standing in the doorway, dick already straining hard against the large man’s dress pants.

     “Ah you finally noticed my presence.” Your face was even redder when those words left his lips. How long had he been standing there watching you fuck yourself roughly with the large silicone tool. You let out a low whimper, beginning to pump the object in and out of yourself again, too worked up to be embarrassed. You heard Zhongli chuckle lightly before the loud sounds of his dress shoes against the hardwood floor could be heard. You felt Zhongli’s gloved hands halt your movements before brushing your hand away and pulling the dildo out, setting it aside for cleaning at a later time. Soft desperate whimpers falling from your mouth as your chest heaved up and down. Zhongli pressed soft kisses to your face, his gloved hands running up and down your naked body, brushing against your nipples causing you to jolt.

     “You’re so sensitive my dear.” Your hands were looking for purchase on any part of his body, finally landing on his strong biceps. You squeezed his arms hard, wiggling around and continuing to whimper.

     “Nothing feels as good as you Zhongli, please… please help me. Fill me Zhongli, stuff me.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, your lips swollen from chewing on them.

     “Well it looked like you were having a good time with the dildo sweetheart.” Warm embarrassment bloomed in your chest and you desperately tried to pull Zhongli down by his collar. Zhongli’s lips attacked your, passionately biting at yours, Zhongli’s sharp canines drawing blood before he swiped it away with a quick flick of his tongue.

     He continued this assault on your flesh as he went lower. He made sure to mark you anywhere that was visible, it made his pride swell when he saw you walking around Liyue trying and failing to cover up bitemarks and deep purple hickies. Zhongli pulled back to admire his work, before propping himself up on the edge of the bed. Strong arms manhandled you, forcing you to straddle his thigh. You blushed profusely when you realized what Zhongli wanted you to do.

     “But- but your pants Zhongli, I don’t want to ruin them…” A small smile and eyes filled with pure admiration poured into yours. He carded his fingers through your hair, pushing back any strays behind your ear in the process.

     “My dearest, you have always been so considerate, but for tonight don’t worry about anything, just do what comes natural to you. My clothes can be cleaned, and if not I will buy another pair.” Zhongli’s hands gripped your hips tightly, starting to move you back and forth on his thigh. You clit was ecstatic to finally be getting some friction, moans already being ripped from your throat. The ex archons dick was uncomfortably hard, outline clear as day from how hard it was straining against his slacks. Once you finally got yourself into a rhythm he let one of his hands fall from your hips, giving in and palming himself through the thick fabric.

     You moans began increasing in volume and frequency as you got closer and closer to the edge. You gripped onto Zhongli’s broad shoulders, your body quickly becoming tired. The man in front of you noticed this, letting his hand return to your hip as he helped steady your rhythm once again. Tears were threatening to fall from how good you felt, everything starting to become light and fuzzy as you continued to get closer to your climax.

     With a couple more rough thrust against his leg, the coil deep in your gut snapped, sending waves of please surging through your body. Your back arched hard before slumping into Zhongli’s chest. He kept your hips moving, letting your ride out your orgasm on his now soiled pants.

     “My love, do you still want me to fill you up?” Zhongli’s voice brought you back to reality, where you realized how hard he was. The thought of Zhongli filling you to the brim reignited the fire that was just extinguished in you. You nodded reverently before rolling off his thigh and onto your back, presenting yourself to him. A low groan sounded from Zhongli’s throat as you spread your leg wide, the site of you littered with markings making his brain go fuzzy; his only focus now on making you both feel good. You’ve never seen Zhongli rip off his close at such a speed before, until he was stark naked and crawling on top of you; caging your head with his arms.

      Once again Zhongli began to attack your neck, except not as rough, not wanting to cause more pain than pleasure. Without warning, he slammed his dick into you, since you had already worked yourself open for him. Despite this, your walls still clung tightly to him, his large cock dragging deliciously against your walls as he hit all the right places. Both of your were on cloud nine, as he ruthlessly pounded into your.

     Normally when the two of you had sex, right before Zhongli came he would pull out and cum onto your stomach which he of course would clean up later. Not for any particular reason as to why since you were on birth control, it had just become a habit. This time however you wanted to do things a little different. You were getting close, and you could tell he was as well, as his breathing became more uneven and more low pitched noises started coming from him. Your walls fluttered around his cock, causing him to shutter and let out a low grunt. Before it was too late, you tightly wrapped your arms around the ex Archons next, and pulled him down closer so your lips were mere centimeters away from his ear.

     “Cum in me Zhongli, stuff me with your cum. I want every drop of it please I wanna feel you inside me even after you pull out. Archons please please Zhongli let me feel you cum. Breed me.” Zhongli’s eyes widened, those words causing something to snap in him as he was hit with another wave of pleasure, his thrust still maintaining their power but becoming more erratic. You could feel Zhongli’s calloused fingers rubbing quickly against your clit, sending new waves of pleasure through you. The moans coming from the two of you were matched perfectly, as the two of you got closer and closer. With a couple of final thrusts, Zhongli sheathed himself in you as deep as he could go, cumming shooting deep into you. The feeling of his cum filling you up is what sent you over the edge, cumming for the second time; your mouth falling open to form a silent scream. You could feel Zhongli beginning to ooze out of you as he pulled out, which made you shiver.

     “Let’s get you cleaned up shall we darling?” Zhongli was still a little out of breath as he stood from his position on top of you, holding his hand out to you. You grabbed a hold of him, before catching him off guard and pulling him back down.

     “Let me stay full for a little while longer.” Sleep was slowly starting to take over, as your eyelids couldn’t stay open. Your words went straight to Zhongli’s dick, but that was an issue he would take care of himself. For right now, he just pulled you into his chest, allowing you to drift off into blissful slumber.

[graciefacereblogs]

I love, love, love Peggy! I literally squealed the first time I saw her (in a leaked photo, when I saw the film I just puffed up with pride). I've made a post on my main about it but I literally can't get over the fact that I've owned two Peggy's for quite a while now, 14 and 8 years (mine are Boston Terrier and Chinese Crested/Xoloitzcuintli).

And yes, while I am excited about the hairless dog visibility going on, I have to agree with this post. Please do not breed pugs/Boston Terriers/any other smashed face dog with Chinese Crested/ Xolo dogs. Yes they're so ugly they're cute, but let's do a rundown of cons, so people can be fully informed and maybe won't try

Ugliness and is Society ready for that: People will think your dog has mange. I had a male Peggy for a long time (RIP Harry, you were a real one) and he got lost one day. An old man four blocks away found him and proceeded to try to bathe Harry in burnt motor oil because his grandpappy told him that's how you got rid of mange (it is not 😮‍💨)

Seizures. Dogs with smashed in faces sometimes end up with seizure disorders. I think it's because their brains don't have room.

The tongue thing. It's part of what makes Peggy so cutely ugly, but if you were to look in her mouth, I'd bet that she doesn't have a huge amount of teeth. Olivia is in the same situation with the hanging out tongue. Sometimes she has problems eating her kibble and I have to give her canned dog food, then she boycotts kibble for around a week (while sneakily eating Punky's kibble when she thinks no one is watching)

Blackheads, pimples, and skin issues. No matter how many baths my girls get, they always have some form of pimple going on, normally on their feet or tail (where they come in contact with dirt the most). Also, sunburns and dry skin are issues. Have you ever lotioned down a dog that doesn't want to be? Especially with no hair? That meme where the guy is driving in a falling apart car with the police in a slow pursuit comes to mind:

Temperature monopoly. If you like having a cold house, a hairless dog is not for you. In the summer months, both Olivia and Punky will sit and stare at me, shaking like they're in Siberia, and it's 70°F in the house. Punky will wear sweaters/pj's however Olivia barely tolerates them. My boyfriend has a habit of buying me blankets and Olivia has taken over all of them so far. The beneficial side of a hairless dog comes in wintertime. Guys, these dogs are so warm. They're honestly like little radiators that get under your blankets and they will run you out with body heat.

Texture. Wades description of how a hairless dog feels was 100% accurate, especially if they aren't properly moisturized (see the skin issues section again)

The love of salmon. And a penchant for French kissing. I didn't know the fact about Peggy and Ryan Reynolds putting salmon paste in his mouth. I just thought she did that on her own because mine sure do. Especially Punky . Humans and dogs alike, it doesn't matter, Punky's licking your teeth, and she'll get your tongue if she has the chance. And it's not like I'm just letting her do it. This dog will use all 35 of her minds to hold me down to the couch and go right for the mouth. She's a great canine dentist though, she upkeeps Olivia and her "cousins" at my mom's house. But salmon paste was a good choice. Olivia loves salmon, Punky just loves food, all food. And their love of salmon means I get salmon scented kisses from both Olivia and Punky, yay.

Monument poops. Hairless dogs, I've noticed, seem to like to make their poops into monuments. I've see Olivia go out of her way to poop on a rock, and she did it very carefully so the poop stood straight up. Punky likes to walk and poop, leaving a trail in her wake. They both love outside, though, so at least it happens out there instead of in the house.

This is all I can think of for now. But I may return with something remembered or newly gathered data.

TLDR: don't purposefully breed more Peggy's. Perhaps the world would be a better place with more Peggy but I'm sure there are more of these armadillo gremlin hybrids in shelters across the world. Give them a loving home instead. But only do so if you're sure you can handle it. Being a hairless dog owner isn't easy. There's a lot that goes into it from grooming to health issues and personalities as quirky as their appearances are.

And if you already have a Peggy in your life. Know you have been blessed by Marvel Jesus 😁

Ryan Reynolds saying "Is it Peggles?" In response to trying to guess his movie co stars, and guessed it was Peggy, the dog that was Dogpool will never not be adorable.

The fact that he had to put salmon paste in his mouth for her to stick her tounge into his mouth too is just Ugh- The dedication.

She won 2023's Britans' most "ugliest dog." And that's one of the reasons they picked her.

So for all the people saying "Its so canon that Deadpool would pick the ugliest mutt he could find" YES. He literally did. That's exactly what happened.

Peggy is a crossbreed between a Pug and a Chinese Crested Dog, also known as a Pugese. She was born in 2018 and adopted by Holly Middleton when she was six months old.

Oh god, I love Peggles, but I hope no backyard breeders try to purposly breed more dogs like her for cash like they did with Airbud, 101 dalamtions, and Snowdogs/Balto. The shelters are STILL full of huskys because of that.

6:55 is the scene :)

[diavolosthots]

Felt like crying, so I came to you, my friend! Mc and Mammon went out shopping, specifically to buy gifts for his brothers, as an apology. When they get back home they are met with hostility. They berate Mammon until Mc screams at them to shut up, then rips into each of them for their treatment of Mammon. Then finishes with "Don't expect Mammon to stay here when he can live with me in the humanworld. I'm done with you. Mammon, lets go, you deserve better, love" and leaves w/ Mammon. Thank you!

You came to me because you felt like crying and that gives me two (2) things to think about. 1.) I'm apparently someone who people see as a tissue? 2.) My angst is just THAT good. Also! Apparently today is rain on Mammon day and I'm here for it not me avoiding my exam to write these things

Warning: uh.... Angst?

Soul-Searching (MAMMON X GN!READER ft. THE BROTHERS)

“You know, I’m proud of you for suggesting this.” Truly, you were. Mammon was your favorite and you felt for him, but you also completely understood where his brothers came from. At first, it honestly annoyed you as well; the constant stealing, the lying… You tried blaming it on his avatar, but even then it doesn’t explain the lying that comes with it. However, you do realize that it’s a habit and it’s a habit that is hard to fix, so instead of constantly getting onto him like the rest, you tried to understand him a bit more and give him some life advice. So far, you have managed to get Mammon to give back all the things he has recently taken from his brothers, and some of them even got an apology. You’ll be working on how to properly apologize, though, because oof, that was a mess. 

And now? Now you managed to take a small trip with him downtown to at least attempt to make things better. Mammon is now, or at least today, using his own money to buy some things that his brothers would be fond of: a new vinyl player for Lucifer (non-cursed), a new Ruri-chan t-shirt for Leviathan, a neck pillow for Satan because lord knows he has some cramps back there with the way he leans over and down to read his books. Then some perfume for Asmodeus that he had been swooning about, a gift card to Beel’s favorite restaurant for the glutton, and a heated blanket for Belphie. You were proud, truly, that Mammon wanted to do this. As a matter of fact, he was the one who suggested it. “Maybe… uh.. I could… ya know… buy somethin’ they like” is what he said. You were just excited and agreed to help. 

Now you were going back to the house with a few shopping bags and ice cream almost fully eaten. You paid for the ice cream, as a way to reward Mammon, and you’re sure he’s secretly thanking you for that because some of these items truly did burn a hole into his credit card, which is partially his fault. “Lucifer deserves more than some random vinyl player.” his words, not yours. Also “satan needs one of them neck pillows that massage it, too!” again, his words. So yeah, some money was definitely spent on these items, but… once again, you were proud. “I think they’ll love everything, Mam. They’d be fools if they didn’t.” Hearing you say that made Mammon feel a lot better, honestly, and a small rush of confidence came to the surface “Ya betcha they will! Nothin’ but the best from the Great Mammon!” You just laughed. 

However, upon arrival, it was a different sight. As a matter of fact, you barely made it through the door before Beel was grumbling something about Mammon eating his custard, which is true, but it’s just a custard? “MAAMMMOONNN!!” and then there was Lucifer who appeared so fast you wondered if he was even real. He went on a whole rant about how irresponsible Mammon is and how another bill came in the mail that talks about Mammon’s debt. Satan and Belphegor teamed up to show empty hands, which left both you and Mammon confused, but then “do you see anything here? No? That’s because you sold our belongings, Mammon!” Mammon can be lucky that Leviathan was still holed up in his room because he just remembered that he also, at some point in the past, sold one of Levi’s figures. Asmodeus came last and honestly he wasn’t mad, he was just annoyed. “I saw you go through my things, Mammon. Nothing was taken, but it was still so incredibly rude!” 

Next followed a screaming match which was basically just Mammon trying to defend himself, trying to show the bags and apologize, but none of them would have it. It irritated you. Yes, they had every right to be mad because personal belongings should stay with their owner(s), but at the same time, they didn’t even give Mammon a chance to explain, especially after he’s been holding the bags up and attempting to apologize. “You’re so stupid, Mammon” “StupidMammon” “so irresponsible. You know better than that. Do you need another time out session, Mammon?” “I can’t believe you’d go through my stuff again!” by now your eyes were twitching and the voices echoing off the walls surely didn’t help your case. One more word and you’d snap, surely, especially since Mammon’s hand is now shaking and you grabbing it did nothing at all. “We would be better off without you.”

Ah yes, there it is. The final straw. The amount of anger boiling inside you right now isn’t even manageable anymore and you’re surprised that Satan, as the Avatar of Wrath, has yet to notice it. “Shut up! Shut up, Shut up, Shut up! All of you!” You yanked Mammon behind you, almost protectively and Belphegor found the need to laugh at it. “Really? You’re going to protect him?” Oh, there. That’s your first victim. “Are you really that dense, Belphegor, or is sleep still clouding your brain cells? That is your brother you’re currently making fun of and I don’t know about you, but I was taught that family sticks together, blood related or by choice. So how about you get your head out of dreamland, take this stupid heated blanket that he bought for you, as an apology, and wake up for a second.” yes, you did throw the bag at him and then you pointed your finger at Beel. You’d regret later on that you’re tearing into him as well because Beel means well at the end of the day, but still, he was also part of this. 

“You’re my least worry, Beel. Honestly you’re too caught up in your burgers and brawns to care for a second that your brother tries very hard to be liked by all of you. Sad, really.” you threw the card at him too. As a matter of fact, you threw all of the bags right in front of them. “And then Asmo.. oh my God, first of all, the world doesn’t revolve around you. Shocker, I know. If you were half as empathetic toward your family as you are obsessed with yourself, maybe you wouldn’t feel the need to always go party and drink your life away. Oh, I’m sorry, did that hit just a little too hard? Can’t be harder than the hangovers you wake up with on a regular basis.” You glared at him before turning your attention to Satan. “Honestly, if you weren’t such a baby inside I may actually be scared of you. You always complain about how stupid he is, how he needs to just learn, but you? What do you do all day? You hole yourself up in your room and read about worlds that you wish you could enter. News flash: you’d die before you had the chance to say hello. People don’t like self-proclaimed assholes. Mammon IS smart. He’s very talented, too, but you’re too far up in Shakespeare’s ass that you fail to realize that everyone has knowledge in different fields of life. Give me a break.” 

Satan was about to retort but you already moved on to Levi. “and you! Let’s be honest, if it weren’t for you wallowing in self-pity and fake depression, you would have absolutely no personality traits. What are you again? The Avatar of Envy? How about instead of being envious of others’ accomplishments, you actually start working on yourself. It’s truly pathetic that a couple millenia old demon’s only purpose in life is ramen and self inflicted emotional pain. Seriously, what are you? A pitiful loner? I can’t even begin to empathize with you in any way, shape, or form.” Your blood was boiling right now and maybe if they hadn’t attacked Mammon like they did, you would’ve felt bad about Levi’s sad face right now, but there was still one person left to deal with.”

“And you… beautiful, responsible, way-too-good-for-you older brother, Lucifer.” He’s been glaring at you this whole time, arms crossed over his chest but you stood your ground. You’re not quite sure how you managed, but you did. “You call yourself the best, the most responsible. You constantly say this family would fall apart without you, but that’s not it, is it? I think you’re just lonely. You force these six to be by you, to respect you and borderline worship you. Not because you deserve it…” you chuckled, shaking your head, “no. You’re just so sad that Daddy and Michael left you, mocked you, that you turned your sadness into anger and took it out on these six, but especially Mammon. Why? Because you see yourself in him. You call him your favorite brother, but it’s not because he actually is… he just reminds you of everything you used to be: fun, reckless, and feeling. Now you’re just cold, mean, and bitter. Don’t bother calling yourself the mighty first because without him you would be neither. Maybe if you pulled that stick out of your arse and actually tried to get to know your brothers, maybe you wouldn’t be so lonely all the time. Family, right? That’s what you want. How about you start acting like one.” 

You shook your head after that, grabbing Mammon’s hand and kicking the bags in front of you before dragging Mammon back out the door. “Those are for you, by the way. Not that you deserve them, but they’re Mammon’s way of apologizing for all the things you accused him of the minute he set foot into the house. Have fun. We’re going to the castle and, if we’re lucky, to a real home.” 

[imperfectcourt]

Andreil Prompt:

Neil is an Assassin. Some day something goes very, very wrong. So the first time Andrew meets Neil, Neil has to explain to him that he accidentally poisened him and Andrew has to go to the hospital to get the antidote.

So I was really unsure about this but when I got going I got really excited about it! But I also COMPLETELY MISSED the line where it said "the first time" so this is very much not the first time they meet ;__; sorry! I hope you like it though!

Neil had never panicked on a job before. He’d never made a mistake or killed the wrong person or not killed the right person. He could kill whoever he was told to kill, he could kill however he was told to kill, and he could be whoever he was told to be in order to do it.

Killing Andrew Minyard was the worst and last mistake Neil would ever make.

Worming his way into A. Minyard’s life hadn’t been easy but it had been natural- the most honest work of his filthy, bloody life.

It had to be this way. It couldn’t look like a typical mob hit, anything abrupt and easy would look suspicious. The call had to come from inside the house, or so they say.

Neil tipped the vial into the remnants of the whiskey bottle and poured two modest glasses. It wouldn’t be pleasant for him but he’d built up enough of a tolerance to survive. Odorless, collarless, no paper trail. He’d suffer some hallucinations and maybe some minor liver damage but he’d live and after tonight he’d be free. No more Moriyama’s. No more contracts. No more death.

No more Andrew.

Neil brought one glass up to swirl, smell, sniff, and sip. A perfectly normal glass of whiskey. He brought out onto the small balcony and put them on the rickety table between two lawn chairs. Andrew picked his up and didn’t make the small cheers motion he always did as a silent thanks, didn’t drink. He’d been staring at his closed phone for the last half hour. Neil knew he would say what was wrong in time (if there was time).

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said after several long minutes, punctuating the statement with a sip. Guess there was time, after all. Neil sat sideways on his chair so he could watch Andrew light a cigarette.

“That sounds ominous. You’re not a murderer are you?”

Andrew’s top lip curled in a small, vicious smile. “That’s a truth for a different day.”

No, it wasn’t, and Neil found himself reaching for another mouthful of whiskey. Andrew raised a brow at this, having caught on a while ago that Neil liked to draw the drink out as long as possible if it meant he didn’t have to go home yet.

“It’s nothing to form a drinking habit over, calm down.” Andrew took up his drink again and every sip he took felt like friendly fire. “You’re going to see something on the news tomorrow and I’d rather tell you myself than get pissy with me for not bringing it up sooner.”

“Secrets secrets are no fun,” Neil parroted. Andrew kicked out his socked foot to hit Neil’s heel and didn’t pull it back.

“A story will be dropping about my brother’s involvement in a gang bust tonight. Just got word that everything went well but his services had been needed on sight.” With the hand that held the cigarette, he gave his cellphone a little shake.

“You have a brother?” That hadn’t been in the assignment, but family matters were often left out for jobs like this. He couldn’t go in knowing too much and risk exposing himself.

“My twin.”

“You have a twin?”

Andrew threw back the rest of his drink and waved it at Neil’s face. “The only reason I’m telling you is because you’re going to see him parading around on t.v. with my face. We’re not that close.”

A gang bust. Big enough for national news. That couldn’t- that would mean-

“What’s his name?”

“Aaron.”

“A. Minyard. Doctor Aaron Minyard.”

Andrew froze. Looked at Neil so expressionless he might as well have been stone. “I never said he was a doctor.”

He didn’t have to. Dr. A Minyard. Fox affiliated attached to a photograph. Andrew had his PhD and his connection to Kevin Day was easy enough to find if you knew where to look. The Foxes were an elusive bunch of vigilantes but everyone had heard of Kevin Day, son of the founders of the Foxes.

Neil had never made a mistake before and killing Andrew Minyard was the biggest mistake of his life. He knocked the glass from Andrew’s hand only because Andrew let him.

“Now, right now,” he changed, grabbing Andrew by the sleeve and tugging him back inside. It only worked because Andrew let him. Andrew was always letting Neil, trusting Neil. And for what? For this?

Neil let go when he was sure Andrew would follow him and rushed to the tiny kitchen. He took the water glass by the sink and upended the entire salt shaker into it.

“Drink this right now,” he ordered Andrew.

Andrew did not take it.

“Andrew, trust me just one last time. Just this one last time trust me and drink this. Just this once. Just this one last time.” There was time. There was barely time. It had been less than a minute, there had to be time.

Neil didn’t know what he would do if Andrew didn’t drink, if Neil killed him for nothing. No matter what the outcome, no matter Andrew's decision, Neil would die either way.

Andrew took the salt water, drank the whole thing, and promptly threw up in the sink.

Neil watched, hands in his hair and tears clouding his eyes as Andrew righted himself, wiping at his mouth with the back of his wrist.

“That’ll give you time to get to the hospital. You have to go now, you’ve got time.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Andrew put his hand slowly, calmly, over Neil’s throat, “until you explain.”

He pressed him into the wall.

Neil let him.

“You were supposed to be my last one and my contract would be fulfilled,” he said.

“Explain better than that. What does this have to do with Aaron?”

“There’s no time-”

“Then make it quick.” He pressed against Neil’s throat and Neil���s hands came up instinctively to grab his arm. He stopped before making contact.

“I was born into a debt that the Moriyama’s own. I was one of their hit men. A. Minyard. Fox associate. And a picture. That was my last assignment and I could finally… I could…”

Words were getting harder. He had begun ingesting the poison before Andrew and hadn’t gotten any of it out of his system.

“You’re the only one I never…”

“Never what? Never shot like a coward? Never succeeded in killing?”

“Never wanted to.” His hands came down onto Andrew’s forearm even though he didn’t have permission. His vision was swimming around the edges and he couldn’t tell if it was because of the drug or the pressure on his trachea. “I didn’t want to kill you. H-hospital. You still need the hospital. You have time.”

“Why should I believe a single thing you say?”

“I’ve never lied to you.” It was so important for him to say that somehow the words came out with conviction. “Never lied. Andrew, you’re amazing and I love you but you need to leave right now.”

His knees gave out and for the briefest moment all of his weight was being held by the hand on his throat. Andrew lowered them both to the ground.

“What did- You idiot.” Ah, yes. He must have caught on. “You did all this to live only to fucking kill yourself? Neil. Neil… Neil!”

Neil had never panicked on a job, but he’d also never woken up in a hospital bed before. He was aware of the spike in noise before he was aware of his surroundings.

“The worst assassin in history.”

Neil groaned but didn’t yet open his eyes. His memory was just solid enough to know what he’d taken and experience told him he wasn’t ready to face the spinning world.

“Can’t say he was wrong, technically,” the same voice said.

“What kind of assassin not only chooses the wrong target but falls in love with their dumb ass?”

“This dumb ass has the same level of education as your dumb ass.”

“My dumb ass has a doctorate of medicine, not in books.”

“Literature.”

“Still dumb.”

“Sssh,” Neil breathed out, testing the waters of control and strength. He had very little of either.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the dumbest of asses.”

“Give him another hour and he might even be able to respond.”

“Now who would want that.”

The second time Neil woke up in a hospital, it was enough for him to look around and realize this was not a hospital but rather a medically furnished bedroom.

“I hate you.”

He turned his head to see Andrew slouching back in an overstuffed, wingback chair. The look on his ever-passive face was angry and Neil would take angry over dead any day.

“You made it,” he slurred. His mouth felt like cotton. “You made it,” he said again because it was right and good. “You made it.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m fine. Got a tolerance”

“Is that something they teach you in the bright sunny world of the Nest?”

Neil made a finger gun at Andrew (why?) and slowly, slowly tilted himself onto his side to see him better. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew there were things he needed to worry about, but for now he just wanted to look.

“I’m happy you’re alive.”

“I don’t care.” And he sounded like he didn’t, but that was how he always sounded. Still Andrew. Still him. Still alive. For a long, quiet while they stared at each other.

“I have to go before the Moriyama’s come looking to do clean up. This won’t be tolerated.”

“No. It won’t be. But not by the Moriyama’s.”

Andrew stood in a motion that made him look much older than he was, tired. As he came to stand over the bed, Neil couldn’t help but stare because not killing Andrew Minyard was the only right thing he had ever done.

“The Foxes completed their take down of the Moriyama’s. It’s been all over the news, which you would have seen if you hadn’t poisoned yourself.”

The… the what? Something must have shown on Neil’s face because Andrew pressed him down into the bed a split second before he’d tried to sit up. As consciousness cleared his fog, his brain began catching up enough to understand that he wasn’t understanding. The synapses were there but they weren’t connecting.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered. Andrew’s mask twitched.

“Of course you don’t, you’ve been too deep cover to keep up with what was right under your nose. The Foxes won, there are no more Ravens, and you, Nathaniel, are a free man.”

The sound of that name, his name, sent a flinch so hard through his body that it made something cramp in his stomach. Andrew watched, bored, as he curled in on himself. If he knew that name, if his cover was blown so spectacularly, then there must be an ounce of truth to it.

“I’m just… Neil. I just want to be Neil.”

“Well, Neil.” Andrew slid his hand into Neil’s hair and squeezed, not hard but enough to tilt his head back. “If you ever do something that stupid again I will kill you myself.” Something in his eyes, however passive he tried to pull off, told Neil that Andrew was not referring to his own attempted murder.

“Were you… worried about me?” That couldn’t be right.

“I don’t know, Neil.” He kept saying his name like that and Neil didn’t know what to feel about it. “My whatever of a good stretch of time nearly killed himself. How should I be feeling?”

“I nearly killed you. I only poisoned myself a little.”

“Why?”

Why? The easy answer was forensics. Two glasses. Two drinkers. One lucky to survive the ordeal. But that wasn’t all of it. As Neil stared up up at Andrew, here at the other side of it all, he could admit to himself that he was glad for the punishment.

“Because… because I was going to kill you to save my own life and I had never hated myself for anything more than that.”

“I hate you,” Andrew spat.

“As long as you’re alive to hate me it’s fine.”

“Shut up.”

“Tell me more about the take down.”

“No.”

“Is your brother a Fox? Do I have to be killed for knowing that?”

“You have to be killed because you won’t shut your mouth.”

A good stretch of time. That’s how long Neil had been worming his way to be Andrew’s whatever. And in all that time he’d never felt safer. He lifted a shaky hand and waited. It took nearly a minute before Andrew released his hair and took the hand up in his own.

He didn’t apologize for trying to kill him. He didn’t apologize for coming into his life under false pretenses. If Andrew was there now, he trusted Neil enough to understand. They could talk about it later.

“Go back to sleep,” Andrew ordered quietly.

“So I’ll shut up?” Neil whispered back. His eyes were already drifting closed.

“Sure.”

[moonlitceleste]

marinette dupain-cheng’s guide to picking up cute guys

A/N: Chez Vous is real in the DC universe; it’s described as a restaurant but I decided to use it as the name of the café because I didn’t want to come up with one myself. It translates to “at your house,” which basically implies “make yourself at home.”

thanks to @ramos123 for being my beta reader! <3

ao3

“Bet.”

Marinette slapped a crisp 20-dollar bill onto the wooden table with enough force to slosh around the brown liquid in the cup sitting before Alya’s smirking face.

Chez Vous was the name of the café they had been sitting in for the past fifteen minutes. The place had a nice ambience, the quiet chatter of customers and aromatic smells combining to make what was an unusually cozy atmosphere considering the location.

Gotham wasn’t exactly known for being hospitable, but she supposed the fact that it was clearly fashioned after Parisian cafés contributed to the homey feel. It vaguely reminded her of her parents’ bakery as well, so it certainly lived up to its name.

Perhaps it was this sense of familiarity that had her and Alya reminiscing on how far they’d come. It hadn’t been that long since lycée or université—the two were only 22 and 23, respectively—but recalling the good times they’d shared was always fun to do.

Of course, their friendship had momentary blips (ahem, Lila), but the two had managed to sort out their problems eventually. Now that Alya had become more attuned to Marinette’s boundaries and there were no pressing superhero secrets to keep, they knew how to both ground and challenge each other in positive ways. Which was exactly what had caused Marinette to get herself into this situation.

While chattering about their lycée days, Alya poked fun at her once again for what had transpired on the day of the Animan akuma. How could she ever forget that while secretly masquerading as a superhero and locking her best friends in an empty gorilla habitat together, she had somehow helped them end up in a relationship? And now the two were engaged.

This topic somehow lead to Adrien and the stupid puns he spewed both in superhero and civilian form. Alya was insistent that Marinette was charmed by them at some point, to which she replied, No way! They were horrible. Even I could do better.

It was with twinkling eyes that her best friend asked “Bet?” and well, Marinette was never one to back down from a challenge. So after pulling out some spare cash from her purse and setting it down in front of Alya, she raised a brow.

A wicked smirk grew on her best friend’s face, and any lesser person would have faltered, but Marinette was prepared for anything that could possibly be thrown at her.

“Fine. If you’re so confident, I dare you to use a pick-up line on… him.”

As if on cue, the bell at the top of the glass-paneled wooden door jingled, and Marinette followed Alya’s pointed finger right on time to see a very attractive man walk through.

He had a confident stride, but not an arrogant one—his aura was one of someone who was assured and knew exactly what they were capable of.

Despite his seemingly laid-back disposition, she didn’t fail to notice how his eyes darted around the room cautiously, the same habit she had gotten used to doing after she had been given the Ladybug Miraculous. Then again, this was Gotham, so being on constant guard was only natural.

One thumb was hooked in the pocket of his jeans while the other moved up to ruffle his hair, and wow did he have nice hair.

It was perfectly coiffed, and if she didn’t have experience with hairstyling due to her career she would’ve thought it was as effortless as it looked. Most models would kill for the natural luster his locks seemed to have, and even from a distance she could tell that anyone who decided to run their fingers through his hair would be met with softness.

And she didn’t even want to get started on his face. From his glowing skin to his strong jaw and pretty eyes, she refused to believe someone so attractive could be real. It was unfair, really.

“...inette? Marinette? You good there, girl?”

A snap in front of her face broke Marinette out of her stupor, and she offered an instinctual yelp in response.

“What?”

Alya’s eyes twinkled knowingly, and Marinette shifted anxiously in her seat.

“You sure you weren’t checking him out?”

“Alya!”

Said girl let out a mischievous cackle at her hissed response.

“Now get over there!” she said, waving her hands around in a shooing motion.

Marinette glanced over to the line, where the man was no doubt giving the barista his order.

From what she could tell he was just about done, and she watched as he shuffled through his wallet to hand the barista a bill. But rather than proceed normally as most client-worker interactions would, his payment was met with wide eyes and flailing hands.

Marinette was much too far to discern what was being said, but from context clues she could deduct that he had just handed the barista quite a sizable amount. She had already guessed he was well-off from simply observing the quality of his clothes, but this was near confirmation.

It wasn’t as if status or wealth mattered much to her, but she did have a tendency to be wary of higher-class people due to past experiences with them. Being around them really wasn’t as pleasant as it seemed.

Her musing was interrupted when the man suddenly moved, relocating to the waiting line. There was her chance.

Marinette pushed herself out of her seat, steeling herself and lifting her chin high. This was no biggie. All she had to do was somehow convince this gorgeous man to give her his number by making a crappy pick-up line and a pun on the spot. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t done before, but this felt different, probably because it was a total stranger she was about to attempt it on.

She felt Alya’s gaze trailing after her with each step, and Marinette reminded herself that she absolutely had to succeed or she would never hear the end of it.

The closer she got, however, the more her confidence died. Apparently she had made a major miscalculation while gauging her probability of success, because she hadn’t accounted for the brain spasm she was currently having. Why, oh why did he have to be so cute?

Marinette had the sinking feeling that she was about to majorly embarrass herself, but she was determined to win. Screw embarrassment—she was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. All the trouble she had gotten into with Alix and Kim as kids had prepared her for this very moment. Nothing mattered besides victory.

So she sauntered up confidently, stopping right in front of her target.

“Hey, you must be Batman’s sidekick.”

“What?”

The man’s head snapped towards her, and Marinette didn’t fail to notice the subtle defensive stance he took. Years of hero experience had made her more perceptive towards these things—it was part of the job, after all. She filed the information away in the back of her mind, making a mental note to dissect all that later. Her priority was winning the bet—and oh, right, she still had to finish that pick-up line.

“...because you’re Robin my heart.”

The quip was accompanied by an uncharacteristically roguish smile, à la Chat Noir. She’d give herself a solid 10/10 points on delivery.

Her target seemed to agree with the verdict, because after a split second of shocked silence, he burst into full-bodied laughter.

The instantaneous shift in demeanor nearly caught her off-guard, but she was too occupied by the bright smile on his face and his melodic chuckle to notice. It was light and carefree, and she couldn’t help but crack a small smile as a result.

The only problem was that the laughter didn’t end, though, and she felt her face heat up more as the seconds ticked by.

Oh, Kwami.

Marinette buried her face into her hands with a soft groan, wishing the ground could just open up and swallow her whole.

She knew it wasn’t the greatest pick-up line ever, but she didn’t think her attempt warranted that much amusement.

The laugher ceased abruptly, and she peeked through her fingers in time to see the man quickly sober up.

“Sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you!”

A pause.

“Okay, not exactly. I just—wow, that was a great pick-up line.”

She slowly lowered her hands, though she kept her head down to peer at him through her lashes.

“Did it work?”

He chuckled and offered her a bright smile that made her blush like a high schooler with a massive crush.

“Yeah, you can tell your friend over there that you won your bet.”

If it was even possible, she turned redder.

“What? How…”

At the mention of Alya, Marinette sent a quick glance to their café table only to find that she was doing absolutely nothing to hide her rapt attention. She quickly caught on to the fact that they were looking her way and sent a very obvious thumbs-up and wink.

Oh, I am so going to kill her later!

But Marinette’s momentary vexation made way for embarrassment as the gravity of the situation hit her.

“I guess I wasn’t exactly subtle, huh?”

“Yeah,” the handsome stranger shrugged. “You probably could have been more discreet. But I liked it.”

“Okay, that’s the second time you’ve said that, but I have a hard time believing you. You can’t possibly tell me that you actually enjoy puns.”

“So I’m guessing I shouldn’t tell you that meeting you was a fortuitous aster?”

“Aster? As in the opposite of disaster?” she wrinkled her nose.

“You got it!”

Marinette rolled her eyes in exasperation, though the upwards tug at the corner of her lips betrayed her true feelings.

“Careful there, or you’ll be the one Robin my heart.”

She’d never admit to it, but she flushed a tiny bit before straightening up in realization. Hey, she was supposed to be the one doing the wooing here!

But before she could open her mouth to respond, her companion beat her to it.

“Since you’re stealing something so dear to me, I think it’s only fair that I get my thief’s name in exchange.”

He was clever, she had to admit.

“Marinette,” she proffered.

“Dick.”

She blinked in surprise at the seemingly random obscenity before it clicked.

“Oh, that’s your name!”

The words tumbled forward, and once she realized what she had said, Marinette tried to frantically backpedal. Her spilled apologies didn’t seem to be necessary, though, because that mesmerizing laugh came back.

“No, it’s fine, I get that a lot,” he breathed between chuckles.

She brightened immediately, glad she hadn’t offended him or embarrassed herself too much.

“Well, since I’m already taking something from you, may I steal your number as well?”

“Only if I can do the same.”

Her inquiry was met with a grin, and the two exchanged phones to type in their respective numbers. Marinette’s found its way back into her hand shortly after, and moments after she pocketed it the call of “medium espresso and beignets!” broke the quiet ambience.

“Well, that’s my order,” Dick said, words weighted by a silent apology. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have a few things I need to take care of. Maybe we can meet up later this week?”

The end of his sentence lilted up in hope, and Marinette found her chest warming with affection.

“I’d like that.”

She bid him goodbye with a smile and a wave and quickly tacked on an “I’ll text you later!” in afterthought.

She’d forever deny squealing giddily as she unceremoniously dragged Alya out from her seat and through the café doors, but the sound didn’t escape Dick’s attention—or his enhanced hearing, courtesy of Bat-Tech.

As he watched her leave with Alya, a smile slowly spread across his face at the thought of seeing her again.

Yeah, he sighed to himself. She’s definitely Robin my heart.

-

PERMANENT TAGLIST *@astoriaandromeda @avengerthewarrior *@bluesimani @enternalempires @flower-girll @freesportspalacesalad @glastwime859 @h1sss @heart-charming @iloontjeboontje @jayjayspixiepop @jalaluvsu @kitsunebell @maskedpainter @moongoddesskiana @nathleigh @no-username2544 @too0bsessedformyowngood @ultimatetornshipper

[cafecourage]

The moment they realized they loved you. (Isekai Au Edition) Part 3

If you want more information on this AU here is the Link!

Hyrule:

- It confusing and full of yearning.

- The Fae Folk are very affectionate in nature. Physical touches and platonic kisses are just normal. Hyrule growing up briefly with them had adopted this habit.

- You are like that as well so you’re the one to take care of Hyrule when he wanted affection. Since other then Legend, it’s awkward to ask the others.

- He finds however while he still asks/gives you affection. He gets more flustered and embarrassed when you initiated contact.

___________________________________

Admittedly Hyrule never had a clear understanding of Hylian social norms. Some things were easy to pick up when he was just traveling by himself. However, there was a lot that conflicted with Fae social norms. While yes, the Fae were more mischievous and could be borderline malicious, they are very affectionate creatures. Which was the one of many things Hyrule picked up when he was being raised by the Great Fairy.

Before you join the chain, he had to hold himself back from being overly affectionate with the group. Yes, when he had chances, he would give a quick side hug or ruffling of the hair for the younger Link’s. But nothing on the level of cuddles or small peaks on the cheek and forehead. You though! You were the one to lay the affection on everyone thick. Most if not every Hero has melted from all the complements and physical affection.

Hyrule was living his best life now with you! Cuddles are a must for the two of you. Especially when one another has been having a rough day. You’ve also gotten the others involved with this newly formed ritual. He just over all feeling comfortable and loved.

Which then leads to Hyrule’s issue. Slowly he began to feel embarrassed with every peak after he heals you. Then his heart begins to race when he is cuddled up resting his head against your chest. Even holding your hands became hard for him to stand! It felt so warm but also made him fearful. He was scared of losing you. Losing this warmth. This comfort. He wanted to keep it but scared that this feeling was to good for him.

“-and that’s what happen so far.” He was visiting the Great Fairy Cotera of Wild’s Era. He had visited her each time they visited Kakariko. Cotera gently hummed messing with his hair. “What should I do?” He looks up to the giantess worriedly. His small sisters surround him ether sitting on top of him or by his side.

Their mother hummed as she thought about his problem. “My dear sweet child.” She started after a long pause “this human… do you feel different compared to your other friends? Or with your siblings in the forest?”

Hyrule thought about it after a while shook his head. “No… I did used to feel embarrassed with the others but it was different. This is more… warm?”

“Warm?” She urges him gently to continue. “Do you hate it?”

“No…” he sounded like a child, fidgeting in his seat “I hate how anxious it makes me now.” You meant a lot to him. Hyrule knew you meant a lot to everyone too, but that normal! You’ve helped them all in some sort of way! Yet he was deep in that unidentifiable emotion towards you. He adores you. All of you. Even during your more impulsive actions he didn’t mind having to heal you. Of course, he would truly rather not heal anyone with his magic. Yet… with you giving his payment in kisses on the cheek or forehead… he can’t stay mad at you.

“Chin up little one.” Cotera lifted up his head “your feelings are valid and has a simple explanation.” Hyrule pouted slightly making her giggle a bit tapping lightly on his nose. “You my dear seem to love your sweet human.”

It was like a lanterned was just lit in a dark cave he was wandering in. Finally revealing a path out. Everything thing slowly explaining itself. “Oh…” was all he could say as he was comprehending it. His sisters were giggling at their brother’s expense causing him to blush. It all made to much sense.

“Roolie! Are you nearby?” He and the Great Fairy both perk up when they heard your voice. He stared up at the Great Fairy expectingly.

“Well?” Cotera nudged him off of the petals of her fountain. “What are you waiting for little one?”

___________________________________

- Well, that was embarrassing and he knows once he starts perusing you. The more his siblings of the forest will start to tease him. Not only that but the chain also catches on pretty quickly.

- He becomes a blushing and stuttering mess around you, not pulling away from your touch but leaning more into him.

- It will be a miracle if he confesses but he will! And he will do it in a more intimate manner though, with or without help.

___________________________________

Four:

- It took long to accept but filled with soft cotton fluff.

- Isn’t canon in the manga that the colors (minus Vio) straight up try to impress a girl they just met?

- Now I’m not saying he is like that now a days, but old habits die hard right. He probably doesn’t even recognize that he still does it.

- Honest to God the resident brain cell is the only one that new point blank what was happening. Having a “not again” moment.

___________________________________

It’s been a while since Four was back in his forage. He missed every second of it. The smithing process was the one hobby each color had in common. As Link they found it relaxing, something to get their mind off of things.

That morning was no different. Traveling on the road was stressful even for a seasoned adventurer. Traveling alone was boring which was the upside according to Red. It relieved them of responsibility Green was used to taking upon himself to carry. Blue was at least a lot calmer with having to be on alert all the time. Vio had pointed out this was mainly because of You.

The chaos came back full force. The same argument has been happening recently, it was about his feelings towards you. Now they all liked you as a friend. Four knew that for a fact. He was only six when he felt your presence and this situation, he was in was as if an imaginary friend became real! At least that’s what Red felt.

No matter if they were unified or separated, Four could trust you to help him out of even the messiest situations. So, what if some of those situations were caused by him trying to impress you? That doesn’t mean anything!

Just because Blue became a stuttering mess when you surprised Four with a flower crown just meant he was taken aback at your kindness! He isn’t good at showing his emotions. Yeah, so what about Green becoming a soft mess when you first showered him in praise and affection. Wouldn’t any person do that from someone that been through hell and back with them? It doesn’t count that Red craves your affection! He is like that with everybody and just because it makes him feel different it doesn’t count. Someone saves Vio from this.

Four was conflicted which is why he was working so early in the morning. They wouldn’t shut up about their own feelings. It was a chaotic mess inside his head as soon as he woke up. A weight on his back clued him back into reality “Good morning!” You while looking down at him smiling still holding on lazily. “How is the most beautiful person here doing?”

Ah. There goes most of composure out the window. Vio was the last one standing with Green and Blue almost hanging on. You loved to tease him and he was never able to get you back. “Don’t know how are you?” Four was really struggling to keep unified and calm. He was shaking because of the other three’s nerves. You stared at him wide eyed.

“Jeez look at you!” You give him a squeeze before finally let go of him “you’ve grown! If only you were that smooth towards Erune.” You teased.

The blush he was so desperately trying to beat down started to flare up this time out embarrassment. “Can we not talk about that?” Four could only cringe when he thought back at that bit in his adventure. Him and Erune have been close friends since then, but the colors were really trying to play the hero in front of the poor girl back then. Their antics truly were really not impressing anyone.

Green was really happy he grew out of it. Seriously it‘s not like Blue really cared about it anyway he was just a kid! Red was just happy that he got a long-term friend out of it! The audacity the others had was killing Vio. They are still just as bad and it seems like no one was listening to reason.

An explosion of emotions and thoughts collided in Four’s skull. Three denying their logical side’s claim all while getting thrown every instant in their faces by the odd one out. “Whatcha making anyway?” You were observing the short knife blade curiosity not seeing the other’s internal debate. Vio felt like he had to spell it out to each of them. Pulling up memories of their actions towards the outlander. Four struggled to focus on what you were saying but it was too loud!

“Woah there.” You turn him away from his project letting it sit safely on a cooler section of the work top. “Breath Link.” You where kneeling down in-front of him holding his hand. He focused on your warmth. The way you rubbed small circles on the back of his hand. On your voice that instructed him to breathe. In for four, hold for seven, let out for eight. Repeat. Slowly the divide melded back together. Soon the voices faded out. “There we go.” You whispered “good job Link.” Four stared back at you still tired from everything but nonetheless happy that your here with him.

Man, he loved you so much.

Wait-

___________________________________

- It was definitely an I told you so moment.

- Four as a whole though is still struggling to come to terms with it, even though he had already admitted his feelings.

- Another case of: drown him in affection until he realized. Not because of him not believing you! It’s just you have four people in a trench coat here! If one is conflicted then four as a whole will feel that subtly.

___________________________________

Bonus (just Headcanons):

Wind (finding out that a Link has a crush on you)

- The little gremlin is going to have a field day! He was thinking about messing around but the other hero is doing his work for him!

- The only one saved from this Black Mail harvest is you. He does have a few things but you mostly let him off the hook when he gets in trouble anyway sooooo…

- Not the best wing man but he honestly isn’t trying. He is just enjoying the journey.

- He might be tempted to help if he was asked but there isn’t much he could do. You are his right hand after all! Why would he let your secrets go so easily?

- Imagine Wind just vibes with you when the other Link is trying their best and you literally ask if the other hero was ok since they are acting weird around you. It would take Wind a minute to get an answer because all he is thinking is: ‘are you dense?’

- Or on the flip side. If you know about their feelings. He would definitely be on board of helping you out. Again, you’re his right hand! Of course, he’ll help you! (Favoritism)

- Wind: “Don't worry. He likes your butt and fancy hair. I know. I read their diary.” (Y/n): “He thinks it's fancy?”

(Part 1) and (Part 2)

My First Request is now done :D! That was fun. Thank you Pinky and Star for the request <3

[perpetual-stories]

How To Fight Writers Block

hello, hello. hope everyone is doing well. as you can all tell, this post will be about how to fight writers block.

it’s really annoying to me when I hear people say “oh you don’t have writers block, you’re just lazy.”

first of all, yes, I am naturally lazy. second of all, how dare you. writing isn’t as easy as many think. granted, all you have to do is write down words on paper, but it’s not always easy to find the right words to express what you are feeling, or what you wish to say.

I have had terrible writer’s block for the last few days and it’s horrible! as a business owner or a small writing store, I have to be ready to write and fulfill my clients’ ideas and orders.

it’s not easy. It takes a heavy toll on my imagination, and digs me a deep pit of blockage, drowning in the lack of originality because of the constant writing and repetition or certain phrases and sentences in different projects.

i am making this post in the hopes to remind myself about over coming the dreaded and sometimes skeptically believed writer’s block.

What is writer’s block?

Yeah, I know. We all know what that is, but let me define it.

is the state of being unable to proceed with writing, and/or the inability to start writing something new

some people believe it to be a real problem, others believe it's “all in your head”

What Causes Writer’s Block?

in the 1970s, clinical psychologists Jerome Singer and Michael Barrios decided to find out

they concluded that there are four broad causes of writer's block:

Excessively harsh self-criticism

Fear of comparison to other writers

Lack of external motivation, like attention and praise

Lack of internal motivation, like the desire to tell one's story

How to overcome writer's block: 20 tips

1. Develop a writing routine:

Author and artist Twyla Tharp once wrote: “Creativity is a habit, and the best creativity is a result of good work habits.”

it might seem counterintuitive

if you only write when you “feel creative,” you're bound to get stuck in a tar pit of writer's block

The only way to push through is by disciplining yourself to write on a regular schedule. It might be every day, every other day, or just on weekends — but whatever it is, stick to it!

2. Use "imperfect" words:

A writer can spend hours looking for the perfect word or phrase to illustrate a concept

You can avoid this fruitless endeavor by putting, “In other words…” and simply writing what you’re thinking, whether it’s eloquent or not

You can then come back and refine it later by doing a CTRL+F search for “in other words.”

3. Do non-writing activities:

one of the best ways to climb out of a writing funk is to take yourself out of your own work and into someone else’s

Go to an exhibition, to the cinema, to a play, a gig, eat a delicious meal

immerse yourself in great STUFF and get your synapses crackling in a different way

Snippets of conversations, sounds, colors, sensations will creep into the space that once felt empty

4. Freewrite through it:

free-writing involves writing for a pre-set amount of time without pause — and without regard for grammar, spelling, or topic. You just write.

The goal of freewriting is to write without second-guessing yourself — free from doubt, apathy, or self-consciousness, all of which contribute to writer's block. Here’s how:

Find the right surroundings. Go somewhere you won't be disturbed.

Pick your writing utensils. Will you type at your computer, or write with pen and paper? (Tip: if you're prone to hitting the backspace button, you should freewrite the old-fashioned way!)

Settle on a time-limit. Your first time around, set your timer for just 10 minutes to get the feel for it. You can gradually increase this interval as you grow more comfortable with freewriting.

5. Relax on your first draft:

Many writers suffer form perfectionism, which is especially debilitating during a first draft

“Blocks often occur because writers put a lot of pressure on themselves to sound ‘right’ the first time. A good way to loosen up and have fun again in a draft is to give yourself permission to write imperfectly.” — editor Lauren Hughes

perfect is the enemy of good,” so don't agonize about getting it exactly right! You can always go back and edit, maybe even get a second pair of eyes on the manuscript

6. Don’t start at the beginning:

the most intimidating part of writing is the start, when you have a whole empty book to fill with coherent words

instead of starting with the chronological beginning of whatever it is you’re trying to write, dive into middle, or wherever you feel confident

7. Take a shower:

Have you ever noticed that the best ideas tend to arrive while in the shower, or while doing other “mindless” tasks?

research shows that when you’re doing something monotonous (such as showering, walking, or cleaning), your brain goes on autopilot, leaving your unconscious free to wander without logic-driven restrictions

showering is my favourite thing to do if I may add

8. Balance your inner critic:

successful writers have in common is the ability to hear their inner critic, respectfully acknowledge its points, and move forward

You don't need to completely ignore that critical voice, nor should you cower before it

you must establish a respectful, balanced relationship, so you can address what's necessary and skip over what's insecure and irrelevant

9. Switch up your tool:

a change of scenery can really help with writer's block. However, that scenery doesn't have to be your physical location — changing up your writing tool can be just as big a help!

if you’ve been typing on your word processor of choice, try switching to pen and paper. Or if you're just sick of Google Docs, consider using specialized novel writing software.

10. Change your POV:

great advice from editor Lauren Hughes: “When blocked, try to see your story from another perspective ‘in the room’ to help yourself move beyond the block. How might a minor character narrate the scene if they were witnessing it? A ‘fly on the wall’ or another inanimate object?

11. Exercise your creative muscles:

Any skill requires practice if you want to improve, and writing is no different! So if you’re feeling stuck, perhaps it’s time for a strengthening scribble-session to bolster your abilities

12. Map out your story:

If your story has stopped chugging along, help it pick up steam by taking a more structured approach — specifically, by writing an outline

13. Write something else:

Though it's important to try and push through writer's block with what you're actually working on, sometimes it's simply impossible

feel free to push your current piece to the side for now and write something new

14. Work on your characters:

It follows that if your characters are not clearly defined, you’re more likely to run into writer’s block

15. Stop writing for readers:

write for yourself, not your potential readers

this will help you reclaim the joy of being creative and get you back in touch with what matters: the story.

this is something I really need to do. because of my etsy business i don't write for fun anymore, but instead as a business and a deadline. i'm going to have to pull out my old crappy wattled fanfics or write some new ones.

16. Try a more visual process:

when words fail you, forget them and get visual. Create mind maps, drawings, Lego structures — ideally related to your story, but whatever unblocks your mind!

17. Look for the root of it:

writer’s block often comes from a problem deeper than simple “lack of inspiration.” So let's dig deep: why are you really blocked? Ask yourself the following questions:

Do I feel pressure to succeed and/or competition with other writers?

Have I lost sight of what my story is about, or interest in where it's going?

Do I lack confidence in my own abilities, even if I've written plenty before?

Have I not written for so long that I feel intimidated by the mere act?

Am I simply feeling tired and run-down?

once you identify what's wrong, it'll be so much easier to fix.

18. Quit the Internet:

If willpower isn’t your strong suit and your biggest challenge is staying focused, try a site blocker like Freedom or an app like Cold Turkey

19. Let the words find you:

meditate, go for a walk, take that shower

Word Palette is a great app that features a keyboard of random words, allowing you to simply click your way to your next masterpiece.

You can also try AI auto-completers like Talk to Transformer, where you can enter a phrase and let the app “guess what comes next.”

even though they often produce nonsense, it's a great way to help that writer's block.

20. Write like Hemingway:

And if your biggest block is your own self-doubt about your prose, Hemingway offers suggestions to improve your writing as you go

it's a pretty cool app if you ask me.

it highlights your sentences (if need be) and makes suggestions on how to improve them!

well, there you have it! a lengthy post on how to fight writer's block. now i just hope i can combat my own soon.

like, comment and reblog if you find this useful! feel free to reblog in instagram and tag me perpetualstories

Follow me on instagram and tumblr for more writing and grammar tips and more!

[silenceofthecookies]

Cookie Congrats on 600 followers!! I’m so happy that people recognize your talent and passion you put on this blog (T ^ T) If there’s still a little space for my request may I please request headcanons with the prompt ‘orange’ for Croco-boy, Kidd and Law? (my other options would be Doflamingo, Koby and Zoro) Thank you so much (> - <)

Aaahhh thank you for your kind words! 😭😍 I hope you enjoy these headcanons! Orange is:

PDA headcanons

Crocodile

Sir Crocodile is a tricky one when it comes to PDA. In general, he is not the most affectionate person. His love is shown through acts of service. It's not that he has any problem with affection, it's simply that he does not have as much of a need of it.

In general, Crocodile will prefer to keep any and all affections to private moments. It's a side of himself that he doesn't like to show off, it's only for your eyes. Aside from you, the only person alive who knows that Crocodile is softer around you is Daz Bones, because Crocodile trusts him completely. And even then, Crocodile prefers to keep him away from your private moments.

That aside, Crocodile is not afraid to show the outside world that you're his. He will offer you an arm when walking somewhere, or place his hand on your back if that's difficult due to the height difference. If he gets the feeling people are getting too chummy with you, or if he notices you're uncomfortable, he'll wrap an arm around your shoulders. He'll also do this when you say you're cold, despite knowing that you might be lying about it to be close to him.

Holding hands, hugs and kisses are on to no-no list though. He does not want people to think he's gone soft. He has a lot of enemies, both among navy and pirates, and showing weakness in public will not only endanger him, but by extension also you.

The only exception is when he's teasing you, and when he's fairly sure nobody will notice. He'll give you a kiss that'll steal your breath away, and then leave you to explain your flustered state to whoever you were talking to, while keeping up the best poker face in history.

Kidd

Kidd doesn't give a damn about what people think of him. The navy can fuck right off, and other pirates, including his crew, respect him for his strength. He does what he wants, and if he wants to kiss you in front of a crowd? You bet he does just that.

The same counts for you. You could do about anything to him in front of other people, and Kidd will let you. However, there is one simple drawback: anything that he deems embarrassing will get you some kind of payback. Preferably something that embarrasses you in front of people. An eye for an eye, if you will.

If you're in the same kind of mindset, this can actually turn into a sort of a game, where the two of you take turns trying to embarrass the other in front of the crew, allies, enemies, bystanders… mostly by using affection.

Despite what he says, Kidd has a lousy poker face. Once he cares about you, you've got a line straight to the part of his brain (and heart) that he can't control. He tries to mask his reactions, but the effect you and your affections have on him will always be very clear. It's not uncommon for his face to have the same colour as his hair. He hates it when you manage to do that.

If you're not into PDA though, Kidd will refrain from these displays as well unless he wants to tease you.

Most teasing of Kidd will be suggestive. Very suggestive. Sometimes even beyond just suggestive. It's the kind of teasing (in a relationship) he feels he's best at. If you shoot right back, he'll be amused. If you get flustered, he'll be amused. No matter how you react, it's a win for Kidd.

Law

Law too tired for this shit. You want to show affection in front of other people? Go ahead. As long as you're not crossing the line of common decency, he'll allow it. He may not always look too happy about it but as long as you're happy, that's what matters.

He will most likely not be the one initiating PDA though. As long as you know he cares, that's all that matters, right? No need to shove it in other people's faces.

Actually, he just doesn't want people to tease him for it. It's too much of a pain in the ass.

If there are certain forms of affection that the two of you show a lot, public or private, Law might accidently do this in public as well when his mind is somewhere else, or when he's too tired, just out of habit. Things like holding your hand when walking, kissing your forehead or temple, having an arm around your shoulders,…

The only time he does this consciously is when he notices you are uncomfortable or scared. Law may be a tired gremlin but he's also very protective over you. Once he notices the tell-tale signs, Law will reassure you through little gestures and get you out of that situation as soon as possible.

He'll be more likely to show PDA when he's jealous or worried someone will steal you away from him. He doesn't want to be jealous, he tries not to be, but sometimes it just happens.

Behind closed doors though, Law enjoys having you close one way or the other. Sitting on his lap, sleeping in the same bed, him resting his head on your lap as he tries to take a nap... The man is actually touch-starved, but he refuses to admit it.

[bangfantanfic]

Our Own World: Chapter 4

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, restrictions/COVID

Type: Hybrid/Yandere/Romance/Fluff/Angst

Authors Note: Hey~ again, so sorry I took so longI apologise! I hope you guys enjoy. As usual, I’d you’d like to be tagged for future updates, DM or comment 🥰

“As cases continue to rise officials have announced as of 12am tonight a nationwide lockdown will be enforced.” 

Six pairs of eyes were glued to the large screen, most of them worried-- yours however only showed off pure irritation. 

“-- in order to minimise rising case numbers President Moon announced a country wide travel ban. Non Korean residents will have paid flights back to their home country, Korean residents outside the country will not be let back in until further notice--” 

Your stomach plummeted. You're stuck here for as long as your brother is stuck in the Netherlands.. 

“Y/N?” 

You could hear the men around you calling out to you, but it sounded muffled, like your head was under water. 

The five men around you were panicking at your frozen state, you were like a statue-- even Jeongguk was unable to hide his worry.

Taehyung was sitting by your feet whining, his arms wrapped around his own torso. He had tried to hug your legs, wanting to provide some comfort to your shaking form but Namjoon had nudged him away, sending a warning look before crouching by your side and trying to pull your attention back. 

“Y/N, you need to breathe--relax.” He cooed, his hands balled into fists on his thighs. It was taking all his energy to not reach out and touch you, to hold you and promise everything was okay. “Jay will be fine, he’s safe with Mila.” 

Unfortunately, the boy's sweet attempts to console you only made you feel worse. They didn’t know you were panicking about being here longer. They thought you were worried for your brother's safety. 

But you were only worried about your own.

“Y/N, do you think I could come to the store with you?” Seokjin’s voice asked shyly, his hands tightly gripping one another. “I just thought since I know the boys well— and my ah, physical differences are easier to hide—“  

You raised an eyebrow, smirking at the babbling hybrid. You had grown much more confident with the polar bear hybrid, and even a few of the others thanks to being locked in 24/7. You had still yet to meet Hoseok and Yoongi, and Jeongguk was more than happy to keep as much distance from you as humanly possible, but otherwise, you were somewhat comfortable in your surroundings for once. 

The few occasions you were able to leave the house was to get groceries and other essentials, but otherwise being caught out of the house without solid reasoning would land you a hefty fine and you weren’t exactly financially stable enough to pay thousands of dollars. 

Your brother had been in contact with you, making sure the boys were all doing fine and that you were coping with the news and long term adjustment. He had been supplying you money, and you weren’t sure where he was getting it from. His clinic had been shut since he left the country so it wasn’t from there, but you were too deep in your self pity to question it.  

“Sure, I don’t see why no—“ 

“No fair. If Jin Hyung can go out I wanna too!” Taehyung whined, appearing from thin air. His dark hair hung over his eyes, still dripping from his shower. 

“Your tail is too noticeable.” Jin shrugged, wrapping a long arm over your tiny shoulders. 

The brunette glared at the blond, stomping over to pull you away. Lightly grabbing the pocket of your white hoodie and tugging you into his chest. You wriggled, trying to pull out of his grip but it only seemed to make it tighten. 

“You’re always selfish with her!” The younger complained, resting his chin on the crown of your head.

A dramatic groan came from behind you as Jin, no doubtedly, rolled his eyes at the monkey's words. “I can’t help it if I’m her favourite.” 

Taehyung stiffened. You could feel him grinding his teeth, the sound of his teeth dragging made you feel nauseous. 

“She doesn’t have favourites.” Namjoon cut in, carefully pulling you out of the monkey's arms and wrapping his own around your shoulder. “And Jin Hyung is right, your tail is too noticeable.” 

Taehyung’s wide eyes narrowed, his arms crossed over his chest. “You’re the only one who can’t keep it still!” He argued. 

Namjoon’s face flushed pink, his jaw jutting out. It was true. Like animals, hybrids often displayed their emotions and moods through tail movements, and while the others had passed with flying colours in emotional control, Namjoon had always struggled. 

“Be that as it may, we can’t risk it. Hyung will go with Y/N and help pick out foods best suited to each of us.” He said sternly, sounding confident despite the pink tinge to his round cheeks. 

You smiled apologetically at the monkey hybrid. He was clearly biting his tongue, arms tightly crossed and eyes squinting. 

“Fine. But when you get back Y/Nie is playing with me.” 

Grocery shopping had always been easy. You only had yourself to think of, but now you had seven others depending on you. You weren’t sure about allergies, or even just what everyone liked and disliked. 

You still needed to get around to those files… 

Thankfully your brother had left behind a card for shopping, knowing your pathetic bank account would ever be able to handle more than one shop. 

With Seokjin leaning on the handles of the shopping cart he directed you where to go, what to grab all while letting you browse and pick out your own snacks. 

“Yoongi and Hobi will be joining us tonight, I’ll need to get more meat. Yoongi practically inhales it.” The hybrid sighed, voicing his thoughts aloud. 

You glanced over your shoulder, smiling softly at the sight of Seokjin. He was dressed comfortably, washed out blue jeans, a white sweater and a red cap. Round glasses sat on the bridge of his nose as he read over packaging, his plump lips pouting as he considered every item. 

“Do you think we could get lamb, Y/N?” He piqued up, dropping three packets of snacks into the cart before waddling to catch up to you. 

“I don’t see why not, it’s my brothers card after all.” You shrugged, grinning. You held back a laugh as his cheeks turned pink, attempting to hide the bright colour he rushed forward to avoid your gaze. 

You had noticed the boys were all easily flustered, you found it funny. Sometimes Jimin or Jin tried to say something flirty, and when you countered back the two turned red and made excuses to run away. Sometimes you just had to talk to them and their faces would turn redder than an apple. 

Taehyung was a little more difficult, most of the time he was rather clueless with what he said, or at least that’s how he played it off to be. 

Namjoon just didn’t try. He just preferred to leave cute gifts for you on your bed; Flowers he had grown that were in season, fruits and clumsily made origami. 

Jeongguk completely avoided you, and Taehyung the little asshole, made sure to tell you the youngest hybrid liked you, telling you how the youngest was always staring at you or asking his brothers about what you were doing. 

“The look that the cashier gave you was so rude!” Seokjin huffed, closing the passenger door. 

You rolled your eyes, starting the car. You didn’t blame the poor girl, you had bought so much food it caused a huge back up, the line running down the isles . You couldn’t even look at the cashier, too embarrassed. 

The car ride was pretty quiet, the only sounds were Seokjin humming along to the radio and the crinkling from the candy packet. He seemed to be deep in thought, and as much as you wanted to ask what was on his mind you forced your mouth to stay shut. 

Sure, you were somewhat comfortable around him and you assumed he was comfortable around you, but you knew that there wasn’t any friendship foundation, you had no right to pick around his brain— no matter how intrigued you were. 

So you stayed silent, while the hybrid beside you happily chewed away at the gummy bears he had begged for. 

As your brother’s neighbourhood approached, Seokjin finally decided to talk. He wriggled around until he was angled enough to look over your smaller body. 

He thought you were pretty. Very pretty.

The way you smelt was enchanting, always leaving him dizzy and fumbling for words, just like now. 

He felt like a fish out of water, his mouth opening and closing, eyebrows pulled together in frustration as he tried to spit out words, any words. Just something so he didn’t look like an idiot for another second. 

“Don’t freak out.” 

When your head shot over, a crack sounding from the joints making him cringe, he wanted to melt into his seat. He felt his neck and cheeks turn red, an awkward laugh forced passed his lips. 

“Sorry— sorry. I just meant, don’t let Yoongi make you feel uncomfortable.” He clarified, mentally kicking his abrupt outburst. When you raised an eyebrow he took it as a signal to continue. 

“Yoongi can be stiff?” He paused, considering his words. “He can be two ways, blunt and sort of arrogant— which he isn’t I promise!” 

“Or, he’s cocky and imposing. He’ll try to push your buttons, find out what makes you uncomfortable or mad.” He explained, clicking his tongue as he thought. “But don’t worry, Hoseok and Namjoon keep him in line.” 

When the car fell silent Seokjin felt his veins turn to ice. The last thing he wanted was for you to be uncomfortable, or scared. He’d leave yoongi out in the cages before he allowed that. 

“I grew up with Jay, I’m immune to annoying boys.” 

The smile on your lips, although forced, relaxed him slightly. You really seemed to be trying, even if it wasn’t for them and more so for your brother, he appreciated it. It made his insides feel like marshmallows. 

He watched your fingers tap on the grip of the steering wheel, your lips sucked in thin between your teeth as you thought. A cute habit of yours Jin had picked up on almost instantly. 

“I’ll be next to you, I won’t leave your side!” He promised, a hand over his heart and the other up in the air. “Scouts honour— and I can say that.” 

The proud grin on his plush lips made you break out into a small smile of your own. 

“And the other boy?” 

Seokjin dropped a red candy into his mouth, chewing twice before speaking. “Hoseok?” He looked to you for confirmation, seeing your curt nod he continued. 

“Hobi is playful, he gets along well with the younger boys. He can be a bit much, he’s loud. But he’s a good guy, you don’t have to worry about him.” 

“Hoseok— oh for Christ’s sake! Get off! All of you out, they’ll be back any minute now!” 

Namjoon’s scolding voice could be heard throughout the entire house, not that it mattered. Everyone was gathered in the one tiny space. 

The tiny office space that had been converted into a makeshift bedroom was bursting at its seams with the six men all huddled in. 

The youngest three, Jeongguk, Taehyung and Jimin had snuck in to play on the PC’s while you were missing. Jimin hadn’t been interested in playing, so instead he took the chance to snoop through your belongings. 

Hoseok, lonely after a week of separation, found his brothers quickly. But his original mission, finding the maknaes, was abandoned the moment your scented room hit his senses. Your perfume and natural musk stuck to everything in the room, almost as if you had lived in the space your whole life. 

It was mouth watering. 

Ignoring Jimin, who watched the bigger hybrid worriedly, Hoseok joined in the snooping. Mostly just looking through books and sniffing sweaters before getting bored and collapsing onto the fold out bed, an excited laugh filling the quiet room as he rolled over the unmade sheets. 

It didn’t take long for Hoseok and Jimin arguing over the small bed to wake up Yoongi. But unfortunately he got to the mess a little late, arriving just as Namjoon did. The younger boy practically tore out his hair as he tried to remove his pack from the room. 

Failing, obviously. 

The situation was quite funny to the sleepy hybrid. Yoongi’s snickering was infuriating the Wolf hybrid further, his anger and panic almost over powering the soft feminine smell that you had left behind. 

“— Jeongguk you know you aren’t supposed to be in here! Taehyung, you’re supposed to be making sure he doesn’t cause trouble, not helping!” Namjoon groaned, head in palms. 

The youngest two barely looked away from the screens, their eyes only momentarily flickering over to Namjoon. So instead Jimin piped up, stepping out from behind the much taller hybrid. 

“We just thought since she was gone we could take advantage—“

“You thought it would be okay to sneak through someone’s personal belongings!?” 

The fox hybrid turned bright pink, his ears flattening to the top of his head. Guilt flooded his features as he practically dislocated his fingers behind his back. 

“That wasn’t my intention—“ 

Their leader was livid, and not even for being disobeyed. He was familiar with the feeling— jealousy. They all smelt like you, and now your room smelt of them. 

You smelt like someone other than him— and to make it worse, your musk had been mixed with multiple other male hybrids. It made his stomach churn. 

“Your intentions don’t matter anymore.” He snapped, pointing to the door where Yoongi rested. “Out, all of you.” 

Not a single person made an effort to move, all five pairs of eyes locked on their leader almost as if they were daring him to try and remove the group. The whole situation was amusing to Yoongi who still hadn’t said a word to his brothers, just watched everything as he usually did. 

But the sound of your tires crunching on the gravel driveway sent the boys flying for the front door before an argument could breakout, much to his disappointment. 

Yoongi and Jeongguk were the only two that waited in the living room, not reacting to your arrival with enthusiasm. 

“Y/N! You’re home!” Taehyung cheered, running out the front door, ignoring the stinging pain of the sharp rocks stabbing into his bare feet. 

Before the monkey hybrid could pull you into his body for a hug he was yanked to a halt by Jin. 

“Help with the bags first.” He scolded, shoving the heavier bags into the younger boy's arms. 

Whining Taehyung obeyed, his knuckles turning white as he practically ran to dump the bags in the kitchen. Namjoon and Jimin followed in Taehyung's direction, arms full with heavy bags until everything was unpacked. 

 It was after everything was put away where it needed to be that Taehyung engulfed you in his arms, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. He was breathing in so heavily you felt like the boy was about to inhale your skin. 

“You were gone for so long--” He paused, his arms tightening on you as he shuffled around. Your back was now facing everyone so Taehyung could glare at his elder. “You hogged her on purpose!” 

Seokjin groaned, the younger boy's accusation not even bothering him. He knew his brothers had grown attached to their temporary carer. He was however beginning to worry that everyone was experiencing the same feelings. Your original four weeks of house sitting was officially up tomorrow, and he felt selfish knowing you were stuck here until the government decided otherwise, and not only their government but the Netherlands too. 

He had been so excited the moment he heard you step out the car. The moment your car tires had stopped crunching on gravel and your door swung open the strong scent of Spring hit him-- despite it being WInter. You smelt fresh, like flowers and pollen, and yet sweet like sugar. You smelt perfect. 

The first time he saw you, the night you come out with their meals he almost dropped to his knees to worship you. Long (H/C), wavy hair hung down your back, messy and slightly knotted from your hands attacking it. Your glasses were dangerously low on your nose as you struggled to drag the chunk of elk meat across the ground. Your lips were pouted, but he could tell that even if you weren’t sulking they would look nearly the same. You were pretty like a doll. Small, petite shoulders and rounded hips and plush thighs he dreamed of falling asleep on. 

You were perfect, and his. 

Until he realised, maybe you weren’t just for him. 

[theotheroccassionalfanficwriter]

Succubus!Rosaria x f!reader, overstimulation please?

Here you go, Anon(❤´艸｀❤)

Die a Little Death

Summary: As a nun of the Church of Favonius, it was only right for you to help the needy. Be it a normal citizen of Teyvat or a succubus by the name of Rosaria.

--

The soft and sweet sounds of sex echoed within the stone walls of your room in the Church, your clothes were crumpled and soiled from the sex. It didn’t stop Rosaria from her ministrations though, her tongue swirled inside your pussy, drinking your love juice as she brought you to another high.

“Sister Rosaria~!” You cried out as you came once more, the night was no longer young and you’ve lost count of the amount of times you came from her mouth alone.

Rosaria wiped her mouth, licking the residue with her tongue and looking at you with a fond smile, she only ever showed within the confines of your bedroom. A well fed Rosaria was even more beautiful compared to her everyday unfed look. There were no bags underneath her eyes, and her sickly pallor was gone.

Her eyes showed her youthful energy that made her even more charming in your eyes but such energy was spent most of the time making you come in a myriad of ways.

“That was the 15th time you came with just my mouth,” She informed you as she took a devious glance at your pussy that was twitching from all the action it had received “This time, how many times would you come from my fingers alone?”

Fear and arousal mixed within you as your body moved on its own, spreading your legs wider as you became a bitch in heat. Whether it was an effect of her succubi powers or your lust for her didn’t matter. With your legs wide open and exposing your pretty cunt to her, Rosaria didn’t waste any time and easily inserted three fingers inside your loose cunt.

You moaned from the pleasure, feet curling when she hit your spot, drool slipped down the corners of your mouth as you felt another intrusion on your pussy. You glanced down and saw the familiar sight of Rosaria’s succubi tail, it’s blunt end inserting itself inside and sending you a jolt of pleasure not unlike that of a strong dose of aphrodisiac.

You felt your vision turn into white as your orgasm hit you. The soft sound of Rosaria’s laughter entered your ears. Her sweet kiss to your lips was a balm to your overly sensitive body.

“I think you’d be able to take my entire fist” You heard her say but your limbs were too soft and your brain too muddled with lust to properly respond.

You felt her tail slip out of your pussy, the soft rustle of sheets making you aware that Rosaria was moving around. Despite that you made no move in opening your eyes until you felt and tasted her wet pussy on your face, mouth instantly opening to lap at her intoxicating taste.

“Good girl, make sure to drink me up properly” She ordered as her mouth sucked on your clit and her 4 fingers went in and out of your pussy, prodding it without any care. The walls of your pussy convulsed with each intrusion, each touch sending you closer and closer to your next orgasm.

Rosaria alternated between sucking on your clit and placing kisses and bites on the most sensitive spot on your inner thighs, her four fingers curled inside you as your tongue licked and explored her wet pussy.

Her cum dribbled down your face, making you more and more lustful as you slowly regained a bit of energy to grind your face down her pussy. Rosaria’s loud moan only served to make your lewd acts feel more heated. Enjoying the thought of getting caught having sex while still wearing your habit.

The mere thought was enough to make you wetter which didn’t escape Rosaria’s notice. As you drowned in your lustful thoughts you remained oblivious to the effects of your nightly feeding program to the Succubus.

Her mere touch was now enough to send your body to orgasm, each night spent with her had slowly turned your body into a perfect food source, slowly making you more and more erotic. Rosaria had perfectly observed the effect you had to the rest of the civilian populace of Mondstadt and even some of the Knights.

Your obliviousness only made the lustful stares you evoked more potent and more tasty to her. Though she made an effort to not touch you within Mondstadt’s walls, Rosaria knew that you had grown attuned to her stares. And now, within the privacy of your room, Rosaria allowed herself to drop all pretense of humanity. Drowning you in her powers, turning your entire body into an erogenous zone.

Rosaria came unto your face, her back arching as she felt your mouth sucking and drinking her pussy juice, her batlike wings fluttering with each jolt of pleasure that came up her spine.

Her orgasm made her limbs soft, however her pride as a Succubi made her stay firm as she repositioned herself in front of your pussy. Her hands were wet from your slick and Rosaria knew that you definitely could fit her entire fist.

“Fu~!” You sucked in as you felt another intrusion inside your pussy, “Rosa-!”

Your entire body clenched as her fist moved back and forth inside your loose and sopping wet pussy, you came once more this time without any cum. Each move of her fist had you begging her, you didn’t know if it was to stop or to move faster and harder, all you knew was that your entire pussy felt full to the brim.

You panted and moaned her name, far more devout than your songs and prayers offered to Lord Barbatos.

Your legs were shaking as Rosaria wringed out another orgasm from your. The thought of your pussy feeling raw later in the day lingered at the back of your mind but the thought was quickly dispelled when you felt the front of your habit torn.

A cryo dagger had ripped it in the center, exposing your ample tits to the cold air of Mondstadt’s night. But before you could even complain to your beloved, she had thrust her fist hard, making you moan louder than usual as your pussy clenched and you came without any cum.

Rosaria looked at you and saw that you were passed out, face stained with her cum and your drool, your chest area was soiled with sweat and cum and your soft and large tits carried traces of wetness. Your nipples were erect and just so tempting that Rosaria couldn’t help but suck on it.

‘Somehow’, Rosaria thought, ‘there was something titillating on seeing your messed up and soiled habit from all the sweat and cum from your voluntary “feeding program”’.

“Rosaria?” You called out to her weakly, you were thoroughly drained after all. All those orgasms and nightly exposure to her succubi nature had led you to developing a body that was meant to be fucked thoroughly.

“Sleep, I can still feed from you even when you’re not awake.”

You smiled at her and did as she said, unaware of what you were about to subject your body to. That night as you slept deeply, Rosaria wasted no energy in sucking your tits, licking your nipples and biting them until they were the most sensitive part of your body, no different from your pussy.

Her teeth gently scraped it, before sucking and leaving bite marks on your areola. Then she left a mark underneath your breast making a trail down to the area where your uterus was, and left her sigil on it. The womb tattoo that would ensure that no one but her would be able to fuck you. The intricate design in the form of the heart and bat wings would only be visible to her. A mark of ownership to the Church of Favonius' most helpful nun.

Your moans became lewder and lewder with each orgasm Rosaria wrung out from you, and yet you remained sleeping even when a mere lick from her was enough to send you to another orgasm. By the time Rosaria was content and satiated, the morning sun was high up in the sky and you were still sleeping soundly.

She smiled at you lasciviously as the thought of how sensitive you would be today sent a jolt of pleasure to her already wet pussy.

‘I’d have to lure you out today’ She thought as she made plans to accommodate your body that would now experience the consequences of last night’s overstimulation, ‘it wouldn’t be nice if Kaeya got wind of what I was up to.’

Later that day, you did your best to assuage everyone’s concern over your flushed cheeks. The usually soft cloth of your habit felt rough on your perked up nipples, the cotton of your panties rubbed your clit as if it was the rough leather of Rosaria’s gloves. Your pussy kept on clenching with each step you took.

You knew that if you didn’t make it out soon, everyone would see you come and you had no want nor need for such an embarrassing ordeal. Sir Kaeya had already grown suspicious of your activities with Rosaria, after all and you weren’t quite sure what the cavalry captain would do once he learned of what exactly you and Rosaria were up to at most nights.