#and!! there are ranges of intensities too!! for whatever your comfort is!

[bookwyrminspiration]

asmr is often seen as like an embarrassing interest/guilty pleasure you keep on the dl but I am here to say. quite loudly. I LOVE asmr like yesss make your specific repetitive quiet satisfying sounds directly into my ears <33

[cobaltperun]

Jerks With Hearts of Gold - Work For It

Tara Carpenter x Female Reader

Summary: The first kiss should not be this difficult to get, yet nothing is ever easy for Tara Carpenter.

Masterlist / Side story of this request

Word count: 2.7k

She could no longer deny it, she could no longer fight it, and she hated every single thing about it. Except she didn't actually hate it, she absolutely loved it, only she would never admit it, especially to anyone other than herself.

Tara Carpenter was in love with a jerk.

How could this have happened? Sure, she wanted to live her life, set aside everything that's happened while being comfortably cautious about which people she let in, but she did not expect to let the biggest jerk of them all in. And if that wasn’t bad enough, she took it not just a step, but a fucking marathon further by falling in love with you. So, there Tara was, lying on her bed facing the ceiling and glaring at it as if she had your face painted right on it. She might as well have it painted there, because that's all she could see when she closed her eyes. Your smiling face, that stupid grin when you prove her wrong, or when you get the upper hand in a debate, or when you just annoy the living hell out of her.

“Jerk,” she muttered as she looked through window that was somehow facing the direction you were in. Of course, you were far away, too far for her to even see your neighborhood from her window, let alone your apartment, but just the fact that she knew she would be looking in the direction of your apartment if she looked outside her window infuriated her. Why did you have to be so good to her? You stopped smoking just for her, and that really was the true start of her downfall. But you couldn’t stop there, could you? Ever since she opened up about the attacks she survived you've been crazy attentive to everything she was feeling, noticing even the minute details about her mood shifts.

Somehow, despite only knowing you for a relatively short period of time, Tara was absolutely certain you wouldn’t turn out to be a Ghostface. Maybe worse than even that was how sure Tara was that if she confessed and you returned her feelings that the two of you would just stay together. That you would never break her trust or her heart.

And that just made her afraid that one day she would do that to you. Because there was that feeling deep inside of her, that thought that maybe she did ruin everything she touched, and that she just wouldn’t know how to let you love her.

Yet at the same time, Tara knew she wanted that kind of love, that almost unconditional love, more than she wanted anything in the world. So, Tara picked up her phone and sent you a message.

~X~

You were bored beyond what you imagined was humanly possible. You were so bored you might actually consider doing schoolwork that was still far from the deadline. That's how bored you were. You weren't in the mood for a movie or some new TV show or a new book or anything that would reasonably take more than a few hours to finish, but you also weren't in the mood to go out and have fun, or go to a stupid party if Tara wasn’t there, or anything of that nature.

Luckily, just as you were about to lament on your ruined night, your phone rang and you jumped to your feet cheering loudly that there was even a smidge of distraction to be had tonight.

You placed your palms together in front of your face praying to whatever higher being that might exist. “Please be Tara, please be Tara, please let me annoy her tonight!” because you would not be that desperate to actually send the message first. Not after sending the first message four times in a row.

You plucked your phone off your charger and the screen lit up and you pumped your fist at your side. “Yes!” you exclaimed. It was Tara. “Oh, I love this girl!” your eyes widened when you said that.

Well, you did love her, and you knew that, and you knew how you loved her, how much, and how intensely. But you haven't really said it out loud and with that sudden realization the urge to annoy her faded away and you just opened the message she just sent you.

Tara: Let's meet up tomorrow

Please I'm bored

Well, that was direct and right to the point, just the way Tara always was, and you grinned like a fool because you would get to see her tomorrow instead of waiting for the next week's classes. So, you replied with a simple ‘Of course! Usual time usual place?’

It took Tara less than a minute to reply, and you've never thought a simple ‘yes’ would make you this happy.

You walked back to the bed and just fell on top of it, still grinning. You loved this girl. You loved her so damn much and she didn't even know it and maybe, just maybe you could confess tomorrow. Just see how it goes. At least you won't be painfully stuck in friendzone and things would be clear, you would know if you should give up on these feelings or if you would just have to wait for some time until she got more comfortable. You understood perfectly well just how difficult opening up would be for Tara, and all you really wanted was to know if there was even the slightest chance that she might one day reciprocate your feelings.

~X~

She must have done something right lately because all of a sudden and without even considering all of those things Tara ended up being really lucky. First of all, she didn't have classes today, Sam was working, and all of her friends had classes, so no one was free to hang out with her. Not even Chad and he was the most relaxed about classes out of all of them. At least before the exams, once the exams were going then he was the one worrying the most.

That would probably be something you and Chad could bond over. You had the same annoying nonchalant approach before the exams only to completely flip it once exams actually started. She still smiled, because somehow, despite everything, she found that endearing.

The usual spot was your code of sorts, for a small secluded spot in the park that Tara found when she first came to New York, back when she felt the need to escape from everything and pretend she was just a normal teenager. And you came to appreciate the spot as well, so instead of hanging out in a café bar or some other place, one of you would get the drinks and the other some snacks and you just go and sit at the park. And it worked well, because not only was it a nice place where she could breathe easier, but it had designated spots for picnic, so that was just another plus in its own way.

Her heart was hammering in her chest as she walked through the park toward the place where you would meet up. The basket filled with your favorite food felt a lot heavier than it really was. You weren't really a flowers kind of girl, or rather Tara wasn't, she just felt that would be a bit too on the nose and she wants to be a bit subtle about everything. Although… There was nothing subtle about being twenty minutes early.

She picked a good spot for the picnic. The one with a nice shade, far enough from the people walking through the park, and light fresh breeze blowing through her hair bringing in the scent of the flowers blooming in the park.

“Guess we are both early,” Tara jumped when she heard your voice and flipped around to see you standing there sheepishly rubbing the back of your head, all the while holding a bag filled with a couple of bottles of probably juice if she had to guess. You were kind of boring like that, not really consuming alcohol, but she guessed that would make Sam like you more because you weren't some party animal.

“Damn it, you scared me!” Tara put her hand over her chest trying to calm her heart rate down. Getting scared was not one of her plans for the day!

Your eyes widened and immediately she could see the guilt on your face. “I'm sorry! I should have texted you or something, I just didn't want you to rush if you weren't here and-“ you facepalmed, you didn’t forget about anything, you just got eager to see her and she wasn’t expecting you. “God, I'm such a fool for scaring you like that!” there you were being the caring, gentle dumbass she fell in love with.

Tara smiled widely, unable to restrain her reaction. “Hey, it's fine, come on, let's just sit down and start this again, OK? Shit, look at us,” Tara laughed as you joined her, still looking at her apologetically. “We're like two teenagers trying to go on their first date instead of hanging out as friends,” she chastised herself and you to an extent because you were both nervous and she couldn't wrap her head around why you were nervous. She was the one who intended to confess her love for you… unless…

No, that couldn't be right.

The two of you knelt down on the blanket and began taking things out of the bag you brought, and the basket Tara brought. “You really went all out! And it's all homemade!” you commented, and Tara just knew you could see the blush on her face.

You only complimented her cooking, once granted she only cooked for you once, and ever since then has been practicing, wanting to impress you once more.

“I just grabbed the leftovers,” of course she wasn’t going to tell you the truth. She would die of embarrassment if that happened, but you knew, you probably knew every single time she uttered a ridiculous lie just to save face.

You snorted at that. “Of course, of course, I wouldn't dare to imply the great Tara Carpenter would prepare food for an occasion this beneath her,” you laughed and despite the joke you just said something just didn't feel right about it. It annoyed Tara more than she ever imagined it would. She just hated that there was a certain sense of self-deprecation within your voice.

So, Tara reached up, grabbed you by the chin and pulled you closer. “Don't you dare ever think that,” she leaned in, intending to kiss you and get all of this confession bullshit out of the way, and just show you how she felt instead. But then you smirked and pulled away from her and her hand was just left hanging in the air, empty, while her lips remained stuck, slightly pursed as she intended to kiss you.

“Work for it, Carpenter,” you did not just say that. You did not just deny her of the kiss she wanted for so damn long.

“What the fuck?!” Tara just stared. You actually did that to her. “Work for it? How do I- I mean- You know-“ she paused, taking a deep breath. “Was I reading this all wrong,” she gestured between the two of you. “And you actually don’t feel the same way? Y/N, I can take it if you don't feel the same way, I'm not some-“

You interrupted her by placing the tip of your finger on her lips and snickering and now she was just confused. “I do feel the same way, I love you too, Tara,” you said it so easily even if she didn't, even if she wasn't all that sure she could say those three words anytime soon, despite how genuinely she felt them. “I just want you to work for the kiss. You've been a pain in my eyes for so long, I deserve this!” you laughed and took a bite of the sandwich she so carefully prepared, choosing all the ingredients you loved, and here you were saying she had to work for the kiss.

“What do you even mean by work? How?! Tell me how?!” she demanded red in the face from the anger and the embarrassment and because she was denied of what she wanted and like a petulant child that was suddenly rejected she was just about ready to throw a tantrum.

And that wasn't like her. She was denied so many things as a child, it wasn't in her nature to throw a temper tantrum, yet with you she really felt like that. She felt like the way you were loving her, even when you were just friends, was allowing that child within her to come out for perhaps the first time in her entire life.

“Ask for it, you can’t just take it,” you winked at her. “Come on, now, Tara, all you have to do is ask,” oh, you were enjoying this. You got your victory. You knew she felt the same way that you did before you even uttered a single word and here you were eating it all up like the menace you were.

“I'm just not gonna do it,” Tara pouted and refused to look at you even if she knew you would just shrug and keep eating the sandwich.

“Whatever works for you,” you were being way too nonchalant about this and she should have been elated that you felt the same way that she did, but this was infuriating in so many ways. Of course it had to be like this with you it couldn't be just an easy, simple confession, followed by a soft kiss, followed by a passionate kiss that would threaten to consume both of you. No, it had to be this complicated and difficult because that's who you were and that's who she was. She was Tara fucking Carpenter and every single thing in her life just had to be complicated.

Well not this time.

“Let me kiss you,” she leaned in and you burst out laughing backing away once more not allowing her to claim her reward.

“That's not how you ask, dumbass,” you just laughed and sure, fine, she could play that game too.

“I want to kiss you,” you were still leaning away and she faked a smile, speaking through gritted teeth. “Come on, Y/N, people are watching. They're looking at me leaning closer to you and you are not working with me here,” she was working hard for it and she had the right to her hard-earned reward.

“Not the magic word, Tara,” surely you weren't going to make her actually ask for it! You loved her back, why was this so complicated! She even licked her lips to tempt you, and she saw you looking down on her lips, she knew you wanted to kiss her as well! You just weren't giving in.

Fuck…

“Please, can I kiss you?” there. She asked. You smiled and didn't back away as she leaned in and that was all she needed to just go in and press her lips against yours for a heated, passionate kiss. And when she pulled back, she truly was rewarded by getting to see you being a stuttering, embarrassed mess. “Cat got your tongue?” she asked and stuck her own tongue at you, the tongue that was mere seconds ago inside of your mouth because of course she couldn't go for a soft kiss for the very first kiss. She had to be intense with everything that's included.

Especially with this because you deserved to be loved just as intensely as you loved her.

Safe to say you failed to construct a proper sentence for the next twenty or so minutes. Frankly she was impressed it only took you that long to get your composure back and actually start putting words together in a way that made sense.

Masterlist / Side story of this request

[aurynsia]

Unrequited, Terrifying Chapter 4

James Potter x Reader

Summary: While studying with the Marauders, you realise you misjudged them, rekindling feelings for your primary suspect…

Warnings: Extremely fluffy, nervous!james x shy!reader, some subtle wolfstar action in the background, idiots in love, oc!friends, lovesick!james, no use of Y/N, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, swearing, all fluff with a side of plot, intense pining and I mean INTENSE, James starts off scared of you but quickly learns to be openly in love, NOT EDITED!

Word count: 1.7K

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Slipping through the aisles of shelves lined with books of spells and history, you made your way towards the tables and chairs scattered in the middle of the room. The furthest table was occupied by the four boys you were in search of: the Marauders.

Approaching the Gryffindor boys, you noticed the quiet passing of paper between Remus and James, both scribbling small notes in a hurried manner. “Ehem- hello…” you spoke softly once you were within hearing range. Four pairs of eyes shot up to meet yours, each looking more afraid of your presence than the last.

Remus graced you with a bright smile, mouthing “hey” in reply. Across from him sat Sirius, who wore a look of surprise that quickly shifted into a lopsided smirk, nodding in greeting. Peter was startled by your presence but showed no sign of genuine fright, unlike James.

The head boy sat at the end of the table, breath hitching when you spoke with eyes blown wide.

They had saved you a seat between James and Remus, which you promptly moved to, busying yourself to shift the attention off of you. You placed your material on the table, pulling out your notebook.

You were suddenly very aware of your surroundings, shifting uncomfortably in your seat and glancing at the boy next to you, meeting his gaze before turning red and glancing back down.

Remus caught your attention, calling your name and gesturing to the book he had placed in front of you. “I thought we could revise the content in chapter four and quiz each other,” he said.

You and Remus were thirty minutes into your study session, writing with intention as you took pages of organised notes in dark ink before Sirius struck up a conversation.

“Your handwriting is very pretty,” he looked at you with a grin, “Prongs, look how neat her handwriting is!” After a beat, James shifted to look over your notes and gave a shy smile.

“Oh, Godric, he’s right…” he spoke softly, looking intently as he admired your penmanship like an artwork in the Louvre. His look of curiosity shifted when he met your gaze, gulping as he pushed back into his seat with rose cheeks. Your face was burning too.

“Thank you…” you stuttered out. Sirius was watching the interaction with a snarky grin plastered across his face, ready to push James’ buttons some more.

“I only bring it up because James has awful handwriting,” he stated, “See? It’s practically sprawled all over the place!” You glanced at the boy’s scattered writing, letters not quite aligning with each other across the page. You giggled, mustering a sense of courage as you sunk into comfortable banter with the group. “Well, whatever he’s doing with his writing seems to work, James always gets great marks in class!”

Sirius smirked at your praise, eyebrows raised and laced with visual sarcasm, as if to say “bold move, sweetheart”. You found the table of boys to actually be very easy to talk to. You glanced at James’ direction once more, admiring the bashful grin he showed you in thanks.

Your eyes met his writing again, noticing the boyish quality with which he wrote. It felt familiar, like you’d seen the print before. You took this as a sign that your feelings for the boy must have never really died after all, finding so much blissful comfort in his presence.

Remus reluctantly interrupted the moment again, realising he should at least act like studying was the only reason he invited you here. “Right, think you can handle a quick quiz now, love? Test that big brain of yours?” You closed your books and met his eyes, harvesting a glint of confidence in your own. “Bring it on.”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

“I invited her to study.”

“What?”

“We’re in the same class for History of Magic, she’s very good you know.”

“You mean, she’s coming here? Now?”

“Who did you think the empty seat was saved for?”

James’ eyes flashed emotion after emotion, from hope to excitement to nervousness, before finally settling on fear. The note traveling back and forth between Remus’ pen and his own was losing space, and he began to flip it over in order to scrawl a series of exclamations and offensive names directed at his friend.

The soft call of a greeting from your position standing by the table made him pause his actions, his heart plummeting into his stomach and swimming aimlessly. He backed further into his chair, praying to Merlin that he could merge with the wood and disappear.

When his prayers weren’t answered, his eyes flickered to the boy who caused this encounter to happen, cursing him with his gaze.

You had settled into your designated chair, so close that he could smell the intoxicating perfume you had deliberately sprayed this morning. His lips parted at the scent, imagining you would smell even sweeter with his nose buried in your neck, unruly curls being massaged by your soft touch, waist encapsulated in his grasp.

Your eyes met his, catching him explicitly staring at you through lidded eyes. Your quick reaction to turn away pulled him out of his trance, beginning to focus on his work once more.

James’ writing manifested as a mess of nerves and lovestruck adoration. He continued to steal quick glances at your pretty face, wise eyes, soft lips, delicate skin and sweet hair that framed your face in such a perfect way under the library lights.

He mentally blessed the table for obscuring his vision of your enticing legs and providing a physical barrier between himself and your warmth, otherwise he might just curl up at your side and drift off to sleep in the comfort you emitted.

Sirius’ utterance of “Prongs” brought his attention back to the group as he explained that your handwriting was pretty and James should look at it. When are you ever not pretty? Merlin, he was whipped.

James shifted to look over your notes, the links and chains between each letter more mesmerising than the last. “Oh, Godric, he’s right…” he whispered, still staring at the perfection on the page. You were perfect.

Your small thank you sounded flustered, calming him in the knowledge that there was a chance he could make you feel the same way he did, buzzing and warm in your presence.

Sirius continued teasing the boy, motioning for you to look at his awful handwriting. James let out a silent laugh at the sudden attention, though it manifested as more of an infatuated sigh as you curiously peered at his notes.

You turned to face Sirius again, before nonchalantly glancing back at James and smiling as you said his writing gets great marks in class nonetheless.

James was grinning ear to ear with a smile that could blind a crowd of angels, cheeks pigmented with a red glow and eyes squinting from pure joy. He wanted nothing more than to bask in the warmth of your quick wit and charming softness.

When the Marauders arrived back at their dorm that night, James rushed to his desk to spill his feelings onto a page. He quickly folded the note into another baby blue envelope, running over to the girls’ dorms and slipping the note below your door.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

The night was quiet, a soft breeze flowing through your open window. Your friends were tucked in and sleeping soundly as you gave into temptation and reread the messages you had received so far.

A subtle sound of commotion from your door stole your attention from the notes as yet another one appeared at its base, baby blue and addictive.

You scrambled to your feet, scooped up the message and jumped back into bed.

Throwing open the envelope marked with your name, you began to read its contents with a lovestruck haze to your vision.

“I long for you. You’ll never understand the sheer desperation you spark within me with every breath you take. My heart feels ripped out of my chest and locked away by your subtle glances, your bright smile, your shy demeanour. I want nothing more than to exist in the shelter of your love, capturing the sickeningly sweet tune of your voice in my long term memory to keep me sane. To keep me alive.” The note continued on the other side of the paper, which you flipped.

“I’ve been blessed with a proximity to you recently that can only be described as intoxicating. I breathe your attention. It fuels me to act a little more confident every time I see you, for all that you allow me gives me strength in my lovestruck prison, whispering sweet nothings to me in my dreams at the dead of night. Speaking of dreams, it seems the grasp your minor affection has on my attention forces me into a state of sleep paralysis, and I’m starting to think the only cure is your lips on mine and your presence in my lonely bed. If you haven’t realised who I am already, my love, time will tell. I’m so fucking obsessed with you, it’s unmissable. Forever yours.”

You gasped at the pure desperation demonstrated in the new addition to your growing pile of love letters. This boy was smitten, and you were finally beginning to accept the fact that you wished it was the first boy you had ever loved. You had tried to stay neutral about the situation, open to all who demonstrated such infatuation with you, but you prayed to Merlin that this boy was the one you wanted in return, one James Potter.

Sick with affection and drunk on love, you placed the note on top of the others as you began to sink into a deep slumber. Tomorrow you would return to the library with the Marauders, and you would do everything in your power to decipher if James really was who you wished he was.

The note flickered under the weight of the pressing autumn breeze, rustling the pages of uneven text once controlled by a messy hand.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

A/N: AHH I meant to wait to upload this one but I couldn’t help it so I rushed to finish it! The dynamic between these two is addictive to write about and I’m ashamed to say I’m flustered over my own writing ;-; As always, reblogs and likes are appreciated and comment if you want to be added to the tag list for chapter 5! <3

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Tag List:

@1-queenofpotatoes-1

@caspiankingofnarnia

@thesuitelifeofafangirl

@moonydoodlez

@fionnalopez

@kawaiiarbitervoid

@kc2sstuff

[hansslut]

⋆ 𓏲 THE YELLOWJACKETS BEING JEALOUS .ᐟ

cw. swearing and some suggestive themes but not really anything too specific!!

a/n. HFHFHFHFHFFH GODDD 1 month anniversary of shipmanisms and ALREADY 176 followers 🥹 im so grateful for every single one of you, i love you all sm and thank you for supporting me sm 💓

⋆ natalie scatorccio

natalie would be so grumpy if she saw you talking with another girl or even breathing the same air as her,, she'd immediately pout and scoff and throw a snarky remark to make you pay attention to her :(

“awh, such a romantic moment” said natalie while rolling her eyes as she saw you and lottie, your best friend, talking in a hushed tone, probably 'flirting' like nat thought, when in reality you were asking lottie for advice on how to ask nat out for doomcoming . . . “you know what would be a romantic moment? this, do you wanna be my partner for the doomcoming?please?baby?” you asked out of the blue with an awkward smile, but hey! it was lottie's ideas, she was the one who told you to be yourself.

⋆ lottie matthews

she wouldn't even be mad or jealous, just confused if she saw one of the other yjs getting close to you. she'd look at you like a dumb puppy with those big ole brown eyes of hers and go like "hey, can we:(( talk:((( pls:(("

“baby, hey, what's up with you and shauna? you're spending so much time with her instead of me” lottie's sweet voice rang through your ears, and you giggled a bit at seeing her so desperate to talk to you more. hugging her and resting your head on her shoulder, you looked up at her with a smile. “jackie is shocked that she's not the one who got shauna pregnant, and she's not talking to her, so shauna asked for my help" you intertwined your fingers with lottie's, seeing her finally relax and a look of realisation cross her face.

⋆ jackie taylor

sassy loser girlfailure princess who's jealous and needs attention 24/7 or else she'll die ( she's just like me ) , of course she'll never let you go without reassurance and an explanation + an apology paragraph.

“when did you stop wanting me to be your girlfriend? how is travis more important than me now?” jackie asked frustrated as she stomped her feet a bit with her hands on her lips, looking at you impatiently. “baby.. he ate his brother's heart..” — “okay an- oh. yeah, i remember now, okay! i love you then, tell me if you need help with comforting him” she smiled and pecked your lips.

⋆ shauna shipman

jealous shauna is your worst enemy, she wouldn't even talk, she'd just bottle up all of her jealousy until she finally snaps.

seeing you hugging with van was what made shauna lose her temper, she tried to keep her calm, seeing you and van everywhere with each other, talking, laughing, saying inside jokes that no one understood but you two— and now hugging? storming off and grabbing you by the hand, leading you out of the cabin, you knew you were fucked. “can you tell me what the fuck is going on with van?” shauna said in an angry tone, her brown eyes intensely staring at you. "we're stranded in the wilderness..i can't be only talking to you?i have to... communicate with other people too in order to survive? besides what's up with you and taissa? running off in the woods like you're romeo and juliet or whatever bullshit you're doing there!" and it just turns into a whole argument that none of you ever apologize for, but it'll probs end up with you dead or you two cuddling together.

⋆ van palmer

jealous van is a CONFUSED van, they probably wouldn't even notice it until one night where you're all talking with each other but you don't sit next to them like you always do cause you're sitting next to natalie.

biting their lip, they anxiously took some small steps towards you. “hi baby, can we talk?" and the moment you nod and get up, they drag you in the woods and yap your ear off about the whole situation, only for you to explain that you're still very very very in love with them and that you're just getting the gossip from natalie about her and travis. "oh, okay!" and then they just smooch you all over :(

⋆ taissa turner

just like shauna, this girl is ready to fight at any moment given when she realises somebody's taking HER partner way.

“yeah, it'll be fine, you just need to focus on to who you should pass the ball to at the right moment” you adviced allie before hugging her and giving her shoulder a small pat, not knowing taissa was looking. “you'll do great, now come on, we need to go” you said before running out in the field, allie following closely and— not even an hour later, allie was on the ground, screeching in pain as her leg painfully snapped because of taissa tripping her purposefully, making you gag and cover your eyes at the sight of the blood.

as soon as practice finished, everyone gathered to talk about the incident, and of course you immediately took taissa's side even if she was in the wrong. “listen! im sure she didn't mean to, right baby?” you asked tai, but she stayed silent. “yeah see! she confirmed it!” you defended her again, even if she wasn't even trying to defend her own self. later on, as everyone left, pissed and angry at taissa and at you for picking her side, it was just you and her now.

“why'd you do it?” you asked your girlfriend, playing with the straps of her bag. “she was too close to you and i wasn't going to let her steal you from me— you're mine, and she should know that” she spat out, rolling her eyes before looking at you. “maybe you don't know it either, hm? think i may need to prove it to you” she smirked, dragging you towards the showers in no time.

[chimerafeathers]

when i was initially playing isat, there were a number of things that pinged on my “overused/shallowly used storytelling tropes” radar (specifically, the version of that radar built from reading too many tumblr posts complaining about or otherwise criticizing “tumblry” tropes—regardless of how much or how little i agree in some cases, my Awareness of them has increased).

then i finished the game, and decided that pretty much everything i had been side-eyeing had been more than earned, given weight and depth beyond my expectations.

and then i got my friend to play the game, and he ended up having a lot of similar initial reactions. specifically, when he got to the “family” scene in the full friendquest run through the house.

my friend had a stronger reaction than i did, but what Odile says here is something that both of us fundamentally disagree with. we ended up talking about the value and importance that intergenerational friendships can have—passing on history, providing frameworks for a range of healthy relationships beyond “family” and “peers” (including what respectful boundaries look like when interacting with safe adults), sharing skills and knowledge, forming a supportive network of people that you can turn to if your blood/legal family fails you. humans are a community-based, highly social species; it’s literally fine and good for an old lady to be friends with a preteen.

but it’s a very Odile thing to say, and tbh i’m more similar to her viewpoint in my personal life in that it takes a very specific level of comfort and intimacy before i will truly consider someone a “friend” rather than “someone i know (/friendly).” but he worried that having it said like that, point blank, would reinforce the concept of “you can Only be friends with people your own age, and the only valid relationships outside of that are Family and Romance (aka precursor to Family).” on top of that, there’s the idea that friendships can’t be “enough” on their own, that they always have to be labeled as something else to be meaningful.

which is a fair concern, in my opinion! but in the full context of the game, and in combination with other elements (ex. the Daydreaming One and Bonnie fitting the party into specific family dynamic labels), what Odile says there is kind of a misdirect. because they ARE friends, whatever else they call each other—and because Siffrin’s unique circumstances mean the idea of “friendship” feels so much more terrifyingly fragile and transient than it might to anyone else.

so following that conversation, unable to properly defend the heavy-handedness without delving into major spoilers but still wanting to get my thoughts about it out, i wrote my train of thought into my notes. (for the record, the “defense” i wrote out was no longer necessary whatsoever once my friend finished the game. he Gets It.)

so here’s what i had, hot off the “AGGHHHH I NEED TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT THIS BUT I CAN'T BECAUSE SPOILERS” presses of several months ago (with a couple edits for clarity/more public presentation and to wrap up the end point):

YES friendships can be deep and intense and consuming. that is objectively What Siffrin Is Feeling. HOWEVER. with all due respect, Siffrin’s perspective of interpersonal relationships is fucked and he needs maximum assurance that things aren’t just going to go away.

there are a LOT of levels of friendship. they are relationships that, theoretically, can come and go easily for a lot of people. “we used to be friends.” “someone i used to know.” “an old classmate.” people drop out of contact, change interests and hobbies and lifestyles, move away, get jobs or partners, and suddenly someone who was so important to you becomes a distant thought. someone you might remember on occasion, if you’re reminded they exist somehow.

there are lifelong friendships, too, that can be no less intense or even deeper than the bonds of blood. but how can you know that the person who calls you “friend” means it like that? if the feeling runs deep for you, but the bond is untested by time or distance? what if this is all a friendship of necessity, of convenience, and it will all fall apart as soon as you have no common goal forcing you together?

of course it will! they all say it will, every time they smile and talk about going home to their friends and families and jobs and say I hope you visit! instead of stay, stay, stay with us, we want to stay with you.

it feels like a promise waiting to be broken, when you believe that “this journey meant so much more to me than it did to any of you.”

when your greatest fear is forgetting and being forgotten. (how long until they forget you?)

but the idealized promise of “family” is that the bond does not degrade, that it can persist invisibly in the face of time and distance and change. something that no longer takes persistence to maintain lest you drift apart, because you can survive drifting apart—you will remember, you will be remembered, you will remain connected. something that would instead demand great force or neglect to truly sever.

it does not matter if this is true. Siffrin needs it to be true. they need a bedrock instead of shifting sand, always slipping away from them before they can grasp it. he craves routine, stability, permanence.

there is no guaranteed permanence when it comes to life, to human connection, of course. Siffrin knows this—that everyone they once knew and loved, every bond that might have once shaped them, has been erased, with no means to reclaim what he lost. family included. and Loop acknowledges this, too, at the end—that one day, Siffrin will have to be okay with letting go. he can’t keep them all glued to his side for their entire lives. they know this.

even so, “family” is as permanent as it can get, right? at least, if their friends become family, some of the uncertainty eases. if they all agree on this, it means they aren’t content to let each other fade from memory, to become “someone they traveled with, once upon a time.” so once it’s introduced as a possibility, Siffrin clings, clings, clings to that thought, drawing comfort from the idea that maybe they all feel as much for him as he does for them.

but we know that just saying the word isn’t enough. the loops didn’t break just because they called each other something different. the fear and loneliness run too deep.

even when being called some form of “family,” the bonds seemed so much more thin and fragile than what Siffrin craves.

they were all still going to leave.

Siffrin is trying so goddamn hard to be okay with that. they fool themself into thinking they’re okay with that. because they have to be! everyone else has something to return to, it’s normal for them to have lives beyond journey’s end, it’s just him who will have nothing left once it’s all over, and they’re. fine. it’s fine.

if they hadn’t made that wish (and if somehow they beat the king first try), they would have parted ways, maybe visited each other from time to time, and Siffrin would have done his best to cope while loneliness and fear continued to dissolve them from the inside. because that’s the normal friendly thing to do. it’s what all of them expected the others to want, and were all afraid to vocalize otherwise.

i get the pushback against everything being “found family” these days. i get that sometimes people are ““just”” friends, or mentors, or coworkers, or something that defies labeling, and that those relationships are rich and varied and don’t have to have the “family” label slapped on top to be important, pigeonholed into rigid set roles, because a lot of the time it doesn’t fit and only serves to undervalue and warp the nuances of the relationships that they actually are. i LOVE when friendship is treated as something that can drive someone just as insane with love as romance or family. in the real world, people should be encouraged to cultivate a huge range of different types of friendships and relationships to broaden our understanding of the world, each other, and ourselves, and prioritizing family over all else can be actively harmful.

i also think that if Siffrin could conceptualize that fact as something that could be anything but agonizingly one-sided, maaayyyybe the time loops would not have happened! i think that if after All That, the rest of the party had gone “you’re important to us, but like, we still do have other shit to do. we’ll keep in touch though!” Siffrin might have just imploded. actually, sorry, scratch that, that literally happened in the game and the world nearly ended.

this story has to be “found family.” maybe they’ll get there one day, but Siffrin is simply not well-adjusted enough (or at all) to trust that any other kind of relationship is real enough to last. and it takes NEARLY BREAKING REALITY for them to accept even that much! that it’s possible for him, specifically! that the words aren’t empty dreams, that they’ve found something that they’re allowed to keep, that it’s not as one-sided as he’d convinced himself out of fear and self-loathing. that they won’t forget or be forgotten.

if Siffrin didn’t have the exact fears and insecurities and traumas that he has, i might still be looking at all those heavy-handed family conversations and going “urgh, okay, we get it, this is a bit much.”

but now i kinda appreciate those convos way more??? because it feels more like a conversation, a point of contrast with what this story means when it invokes “found family.”

it's not about the rigid roles or cozy aesthetics of family. Siffrin is not looking for a mom or a cousin or a sister or a little sibling. they want a home. somewhere to go, people to return to instead of just “visit.” roots, connection, permanence, safety. that is what “family” means to him. why his sadness is Mal du Pays—homesickness.

that’s also why just saying it isn’t enough! that’s why the final loop had to be ugly and broken. Siffrin needed to see that these people wouldn’t abandon them, even at their worst. that they could see him lashing out and bitter and needy and hurtful and still see someone worth loving. and that they would do this all before the word “family” is ever spoken, and would still do it even if it was never said.

the heavy emphasis on family and labels is, in some ways, a misdirect from the actual problems and the actual solution. the full friendquest run is a fakeout for Siffrin in that "the power of friendship" isn't enough to save them—at least, the one-sided, shiny veneer of it isn't. it takes raw, painful, soul-baring vulnerability—no masks to hide the ugliness, no "i'm fine, tell me how i can help you," no running away. the solution is ultimately "the power of friendship" and/or "found family," whatever you want to call it, as long as by those things you mean something messy and stubborn and mutual in its earnest devotion, riddled with misunderstandings and mistakes and the ever-present capacity to hurt each other, and still, always, bursting with love.

[allastoredeer]

Hello, don't mind me, I just need to vent for a second.

First off, I just wanna say, as an aroace person on the ace-spectrum, feel free to ship Alastor all you want. Ship him with anyone. Have fun with it. Sex repulsed. Non-sex repulsed. Grey-ace. Demisexual. Pure unadulterated smut. Whatever, have at it. I love that shit.

Just please do it without infantilizing ace-aro people.

The amount of art, fics, and takes I've come across that's so patronizing to Alastor and his sexuality. Thing's like Alastor venting to Rosie about his feelings for a character with the caption "Alastor feeling love for the first time." Or Alastor wanting to have sex with a character and having feelings about that, and someone commenting "That's called a boner, sweetheart. That means you like them 🤭"

Like??? Like do ya'll not see how patronizing that sounds? Being ace-aro doesn't mean you don't know your own body. It doesn't mean you don't understand the functions of your body.

It doesn't mean you've never experienced intense emotions. It doesn't mean you've never experienced love before.

And, look, I know these are meant to be jokes. I know. People are joking. I laughed at the first few I came across, too. It's not meant to be harmful or condescending; no one means it that way. But there's been so much with such...bad takes recently, and I don't know about any other ace-spec people (I don't speak for all ace-specs. Hell, there are probably other ace-spec's who don't mind, enjoy it, or are making content like it themselves. I just speak for myself) but GOD it's getting uncomfortable.

Alastor is in his late 30's-early 40's in human years. That is the established age range we have for him. Do you really think that he'd go that long without ever experiencing "love?" He went through puberty just like everyone else, do you think he doesn't understand his own body???

Being asexual, or sex-repulsed, or touch-repulsed doesn't mean you automatically don't explore these parts of yourself. It doesn't mean he's never, once in his life, touched his own dick, or pussy, or whatever genitalia you're giving him. He can still very well be a "virgin" (which in and of itself is a social construct) while also knowing his body and confidently handling any "sexual needs" he has.

Do you really think he doesn't know what a boner is? That in all the years he's been alive and dead (on Earth and in Hell), he wouldn't have experienced these things once? (And you know what? Maybe he hasn't! Perhaps there are ace's out there like that! But you're telling me he doesn't KNOW what that is??? Really???)

Ah, no, it's all because he just hasn't found the right person yet, right? It's not until Lucifer/Angel Dust/Vox, whoever found him, and they gave him these feelings, and oh no, poor Bambi is feeling twitterpated and horny for the first time, isn't that romantic!

Honestly, not really. It just sounds like the same, stupid shit ace-aro people hear from family, friends, and acquaintances about their sexuality. You know, the tried and true: "Oh, you just haven't found the right person yet. You'll want all that eventually, you'll see😊"

Do you not see how frustrating that is?

Look, I am all down for Alastor exploring parts of himself. I want him to navigate different relationships, feel them out, figure out what kind of relationship he wants and what he's okay and not okay with doing. But there are ways to do that without treating him like a little UwU silly baby boy who doesn't know his own body, or his own emotions, or his own relationships with other characters. Like he needs someone to teach him about himself.

How about instead, he finds someone he feels comfortable exploring these elements with? Instead of them "teaching" him how to fuck, or masturbate, or whatever the hell you want to call it, they're giving him the room and safe-space to explore it at his own pace??!!

It comes across as someone who isn't on the ace-spectrum "teaching" an ace-spec character about their own sexuality which puts such a gross taste in my mouth. Or, at least, that's how it comes across to me.

And the thing is, I know people aren't going to stop. I know they're going to keep infantilizing Alastor and his aro-ace identity, and I wasn't originally going to make this post, because you can't control what people do in fandom.

So this is mostly just a post to say: HEY! Hello! Ace-aro person here! I hope you all are having fun and I love that you're exploring Alastor's asexual/aromantic identity! Especially those who may not be in the ace-spectrum themselves, as you're learning about us and our experiences! That's awesome! Can we just do that while also treating Alastor like the adult he is? Can we do that without being infantilizing and patronizing about his sexual identity? Please?"

That's all I really wanted to say. I just needed to get this off my chest instead of letting it fester. This isn't an attack on anyone, this is just the perspective of an Alastor multi-shipper who loves exploring his relationships with other characters (sexually and non-sexually) and deep-diving into the dynamics of the show.

Thanks for reading.

[kitten4sannie]

ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴜʀᴇ ᴘʟᴀɴᴇᴛ

ᴛᴇɴᴛᴀᴄʟᴇꜱ/ᴛɪᴛꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ➠ ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ

pairing: intergalactic alien idol! wooyoung x cyborg call girl! reader (fem) feat. ai! san

genre: futuristic au, idol au, smut

summary: your company pleasureplanet™ gets a call from the most sought after idol in your galaxy, requesting you for an evening. he shows you a side his fans have never seen before.

w.c: 2.5k

warnings: switch! wooyoung, reader adapts to whatever woo wants for her own pleasure ^^, alien heat cycles, woo’s got an big alien cock, implied voyeurism, praise, begging, tentacle sucking + fucking, deep-throating, titfucking, choking kink but not in the way you think, unprotected sex, just…so much cum and alien goo lol, breeding/impreg kink, actual impregnation (in this economic climate??), oviposition, creampie, cum inflation

a/n: i’m giving my lord and savior cthulhu all the credit for bestowing this idea upon me,, it’s not like i’ve been wanting to write something this heinous for months and months… where’d you even get that idea from?? haha…ha. but fr im so happy i finally got to write out something that’s akin to a hentai lol i’m living my best smut writer life rn. please heed the warnings and if you did so i hope you enjoy :3

Now Playing:

ᴘʟ4ʏɢ1ʀʟ ʙʏ ʟᴏʟᴏ ᴢᴏᴜᴀÏ

0:01 ❍─────── 4:28

Volume: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100%

ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

Wooyoung woke up from his sleep in a cold sweat, the flashing lights projecting from the room’s flatscreen making patterns on his glistening skin as he sat up, his body filled with an odd, though familiar heaviness that he knew he would have to take care of sooner than later. 

“Shit, is it happening already?” he whispered to himself, groaning as he pulled himself to the edge of the king-sized bed to sit comfortably. “San, do a body scan.” Wooyoung rubbed his tired eyes, waiting for his in-house AI system to kick in, a familiar ding suddenly ringing out inside the empty room.

A projection of a youthful man with sharp, feline-like features appeared on the wall closest to Wooyoung’s bed. He looked in Wooyoung’s general direction, giving him a cordial smile and a bow. “Good evening, Wooyoung.” Blue rings of light formed along the edges of San’s brown eyes, studying Wooyoung’s form. “It appears that your BPM is above normal range. Abnormal body temperature and cortisol production have been detected. Unusually high levels of arousal and semen production are recognized as well,” the AI stated matter-of-factly, blinking. “You seem to be exhibiting symptoms of a hormonal cycle that members of your sector are susceptible to displaying during this time of year. Would you like to see an in-depth analysis?” 

“Yes, San.” Wooyoung waited for a prompt to appear on the small computer built into his wrist, tapping a few options, various images being peojected to him. The application showed him what he was in denial about discovering, the bright red letters indicating that he was indeed smack dab in the middle of an intense heat, and to make things worse, he was carrying. To make matters even worse, he knew his kind was required to transfer his offspring to a willing partner, or else his own body would become a birthing ground.

Knowing that he had too many fans relying on him in the intergalactic entertainment world, it simply wasn’t an option for him to retire. He would have to find someone that could host them for him, but where? And so late in the night? Who could possibly–

“Hey, sexy, are you looking for a late-night lover?” an ample-chested member of the spider dimension with eight hooded eyes and fearsome mandibles questioned Wooyoung from the bright TV screen, bringing a bit of their web together into a pattern that formed a heart.  

“Oh?” Wooyoung murmured, realizing that just perhaps his reluctant, desperate prayers to his galaxy’s god were in the process of being answered.

A curvy gray alien leaning seductively against a bar table continued the spiel, “Someone you can unload your deepest desires onto? Someone that can make your wildest dreams come true?” 

“Well, look no further.” An enthusiastic, though automated voice took over this time, as the screen showcased the company’s shiny logo, while it flipped through a slew of optional playmates across the screen like pages of an open book, showcasing the wide range of choices Wooyoung had. “Our playmates at Pleasure Planet will take good care of you. For price options, call (XXX)-XXX.” 

Wooyoung bit his lip, about to look away from the TV when you popped up on the screen, drawing his attention to you, your human-like beauty mixed with the metal intricacies of a robot standing out to him. 

“Well, what are you waiting for, baby?” you asked Wooyoung through the screen, laying across a plush velvet couch in only a small black slip, your back arched, running your fingers up along your sleek body, until you brought them into your hair to push it behind your ears, your fingers brushing against the small lit-up chrome circle near your temple. “Give me a call~” 

Wooyoung gulped so hard, he almost swallowed his Adam’s apple, knowing what he had to do. He rubbed at his sweaty neck, feeling more beads of sweat trickle down along his collarbone to his chest, the loose sleep t-shirt that was hanging off his shoulders now tinted a darker color. “San, call Pleasure Planet and book me an appointment with the cyborg girl.” 

“Right away, Wooyoung,” San obeyed, bowing at the waist, before his image dissipated, the wall returning to a blank state. 

࿏࿏࿏

A soft ding sound filled the empty space of Wooyoung’s expansive cyber chamber after some time went by, finally distracting the overheated alien from his current predicament. He continued to lay in a fetal position on the side of his bed, too overwhelmed by the dizzying amount of arousal that was swirling around his insides like a shoal of fish. “Is…nnngh…she here, San?” 

San’s form materialized onto the wall once more, scanning his Master’s crumpled up body, running a number of tests, finding that the situation was beginning to grow imminent. “Yes, she is, Wooyoung. Please begin the mating ritual as soon as possible, to prevent less favorable outcomes. I’m sure your company wouldn’t want you–”

“You think I don’t know that, San?” he snapped back, holding a hand to his disruptive abdomen, groaning in both pain and unexplainable pleasure, as what Wooyoung could only describe as molten-hot lava churning around inside his core, just aching to spill out of him. “Where the fuck is she? I need to–”

“I’m here for you, Wooyoung. Please, put your worries to rest,” you replied as you entered his room, Wooyoung’s eyes following your movements like a moth to a flame, taking slow steps up to his bed, shedding various articles of your clothing until you were bare for him. 

“O-oh, hi,” Wooyoung croaked, doing his best to sit up in his bed with his head against his pillow, beads of sweat already soaking into it, strands of black hair sticking to his forehead. He watched you climb onto his bed and crawl towards him, his eyes shifting from your face to your body, trying to get his spinning mind to stop for a moment. “Wh-what’s your name?” 

“Y/N, but you can call me whatever you want. I’m yours for tonight~” You mounted him, lowering yourself down to feel his aching length pressing into your heat through his boxers. 

“Y/N…” he repeated softly, entranced by you. 

Smiling down at him, you gently ran your hands up his rapidly rising abdomen, feeling up his soft body along the way, eventually slipping him out of the sweater he was in, eliciting a whine from the alien below you. You brought your lips near Wooyoung’s parted ones, whispering against them, “Oh, baby, you’re in bad shape, huh? Need me to take care of you?” 

Wooyoung nodded weakly, his hands on your thighs, feeling your soft skin underneath his heated grasp. He squeezed into it, swallowing harshly, his Adam’s apple visibly bobbing inside his throat. “Y-yes, please, it hurts so bad…” 

San, who was still watching from the wall, cleared his throat, doing his duty and informing his Master of important information. “Master, please return to your body’s natural state soon. Your vitals are starting to worry me.” 

“I got it, San,” Wooyoung grunted, glaring at the AI, before returning his attention to you. “Oh my god…” He groaned at the sight of you running your hands up and down your perfectly created body, your fingers slipping past the metal, glowing seams that sealed you together, until you got down to your glistening cunt, your fingers spreading yourself open for his viewing pleasure, all while grinding back and forth against his slippery, clothed length. “Y/N…fuck…I just…don’t want to scare you…” 

“You won’t, trust me. Please, let yourself go, Wooyoung, it’s okay,” you reassured him softly, licking at your fingers before they returned to your perfect pussy, rubbing at your clit, feeling zaps of electricity course through your body, your artificial synapses firing off inside your brain. “I’ll take care of you, I promise.” 

Inhaling sharply, Wooyoung closed his eyes for a moment to ground himself, knowing you wouldn’t judge every inch of him like people on the Universal Net did. Little by little, he let his body return to its natural state, small, ridged scales growing in patches along his skin, which exhibited an electric blue tint wherever his blood settled in the most, long, slick-covered tentacles emerging from his form, some of them idly curling around different parts of your body — the most notable change to his body being his cock, which tore out of his boxers from its size. It was no longer human-like, but instead resembled his wriggling appendages, had prominent ridges, leaked a steady flow of blue, viscous pre-cum, and had an obvious girth to it, thick, heavy-looking, and perhaps capable of stretching you open to your particular model’s max capacity for cock.

“Oh, Wooyoung,” you sighed, small digital hearts forming within your hooded eyes, cupping the alien’s flushed face, bringing your lips to his. “You're beautiful.” 

Wooyoung melted into your kiss and body respectively, bringing his hands up to your own face, holding it, his tentacles exploring the rest of your form for him, a few curling around and in between your tits, others sliding along your thighs and hips, while his slippery cock idly rubbed back and forth along your cunt like it had a mind of its own, sending waves of pleasure into the both of you. “Fuck, I need you so bad, Y/N…” 

A string of saliva broke your kiss as you pulled back, squeezing your tits together around the tentacle that was between them, licking at the wriggling tip. “How bad, baby? How bad do you want to fill me up with your cock?” you asked breathily, feeling the tentacle begin to thrust faster and faster, dripping blue pre-cum onto your slick skin. “You want to fuck your cum into me, Wooyoung? Fuck me so deep, it reaches my womb?” 

“Y-esss, please, oh my god, please,” Wooyoung moaned out, grabbing at your hips, continuing to grind his large, ridged cock against your cunt, unable to stop gasping for air from how hard he was breathing. 

“Then, come here,” you purred, reaching down to grab Wooyoung’s cock and pushing it inside you, feeling it fill you up inch by inch until your hungry cunt swallowed it in its entirety, your bodies essentially becoming one. 

Any semblance of composure completely left Wooyoung’s burning body in that moment, encouraging him to grab onto your hips like handlebars and drive his cock deep into your cunt over and over, his tentacles still eagerly exploring the expanse of your skin, some rubbing into your clit, others still preoccupied with your now bouncing tits, an additional tentacle loosely wrapping around your neck, the tip of it sliding along your cheek like it was licking you. “Feels so fucking good being inside you, Y/N, I’m gonna melt.” 

“Take me, Wooyoung, do whatever you want to me,” you told the alien in between pants, opening your mouth when Wooyoung’s tentacle rolled down your other cheek and across your lips, eventually slipping inside your mouth when you opened up, the small round disk built into your temple continually flashing blue the longer your body short-circuited with pleasure, your sensitive flesh squelching lewdly each time they joined together in slick, gooey harmony. 

Wooyoung watched you with a fondness that bordered obsession, drooling at the sight of his appendage fucking itself into your bulging throat that it was wrapped tightly around, still bringing you down onto his cock at an unnerving speed, the heaviness swirling around inside his lower abdomen growing more and more prominent. “I’m going to breed you, Y/N, did you know that? I’m going to fill you to the fucking brim with my kids.” 

You gurgled happily around the thrusting tentacle that was currently stretching out your lips and throat, your body shuddering with pleasure once load after load of blue goo spilled into your willing mouth, dripping down the sides of your chin and traveling along the rest of your slicked-up body. The tentacle left your mouth with a lewd pop and slowly wrapped around your waist instead. “Fill me up, Wooyoung, please, fuck it in me, deeper, I need it,” you begged him, desperately driving yourself down on his thick cock, cupping your own overheated cheeks, the hearts inside your eyes growing more and more bright each time the alien’s cock slipped deep inside your sloppy cunt.  

“Gonna fuck you so full, Y/N, gonna plug you up with my cock so you have to be my breeding bitch again and again,” Wooyoung mindlessly moaned out, simply driven by his overwhelming lust and instinctual urge to procreate, the heaviness moving closer and closer to his pulsing cock. 

“Yes, give it to me, please…!”

San, who had been silently observing the entire time, cleared his dry throat up to announce, “Delivery of offspring will be completed in…three…two..one…”

Neither you nor Wooyoung could tell who had came harder between the both of you, your joined moans and pants filling up the heavy air in the room. Wooyoung’s hands were cemented against your lower abdomen, able to feel as each warm, egg-like object had been deposited into your contracting cunt. “Feel them?” he asked under his breath, looking up into your barely open eyes.

“Yeah, I feel them,” you breathed, feeling dizzy just from the sensation of being filled to the absolute brim, Wooyoung’s cock acting as a dam until he knew that nothing except loads of his cum would come out afterwards, a small bulge present inside your stomach being the proof of what had been done to you. 

Wooyoung let out a small whine, slowly pulling out of you, his cock flopping lifelessly onto his pelvis, his eyes focused on the way your used hole fluttered around nothing, dribbles of electric blue cum dripping out, until a flood of it came seeping out in between your sticky bodies. With a blissful smile on his face, Wooyoung rubbed your stomach with gentle circles, humming to himself. “Let me know when you’re ready for another round, okay, baby?” 

You smiled softly down at him, placing your hand over his, ready to ask him for another round as soon as possible when San spoke instead.

“I hate to interrupt, but you have quite the schedule tomorrow, Wooyoung…practice at 9, vocals at 11, a fan meeting in the Twilight Quadrant at 3….” San slowly informed in a disheartened tone, a drop of sweat cascading down the side of his sleek face. 

Wooyoung growled, grabbing a pillow and tossing it at the wall, the image of San blurring temporarily. “Shut off! Shut down, San!” He looked back at you, rubbing your hips gently, unable to stop smiling at your pretty cybernetic face.

San disappeared from the wall, but his voice remained. “Just so you know, I don’t actually have a shut-off button, Wooyoung. I’m sentient…” 

Wooyoung’s fingers clenched into your hips, his eyebrows twitching downwards. “Oh my god, San, just wait till I fucking figure out how to hack your programming…” 

San cleared his throat, shaking his head, though it wasn’t visible to either of you, especially since you were both too busy eye-fucking each other. “Again, I’m sentient. That’s out of the realm of possibility.” 

“San!” 

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© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[slayfics]

You get jealous when Katsuki talks about Burnin.

600 words

Internships started back up and they were even more challenging than last time. The pro heroes had a good idea of what your classes could handle now, so the training was even more intense.

After the past days of non-stop hero work, your body collapsed into bed. You didn't think your bed had ever felt so comfortable.

You wondered if your other classmates' internships were as strenuous. Katsuki's at least had to be, after all, he was interning at Endeavor's.

You reached for your phone to send him a text.

[You] Hey, how is your internship going? [Katsuki] Awful. I'm losing my goddamn mind here. [You] Oh shit- what's going on?

Your phone rang as a call from Katsuki came through. Eagerly you answered.

"Hey," you greeted him.

"Fucking hate texting," he stated.

"I know," you chuckled. "So, what happened?" you asked.

"Had dinner at Endeavor's house the other day," he mumbled into the phone.

"What!? How was that?!" You asked.

"Fucking weird- they got a lot of family drama. It was stupid to bring me and Deku into it. Fucking rude not to keep your shit together when ya got guests. HA! And I thought my family had problems," he said.

"That bad, hu? Come on tell me the details, what were they fighting about?" You pleaded.

"Tch- you're nosey as hell ya know that? What the hell do you care anyway?" He asked.

"Endeavor is the number one hero now! It's- interesting to hear that his family life is trash when his career is so good," you explained.

"Yeah- sounds like that's what the problem is. He was an absent father I guess... I don't know- it's not my damn business and I don't care about that crap. I'm here to get stronger not fucking be on a drama show," Katsuki spoke.

"He taught you anything good yet?" You asked.

Katsuki grunted into the phone, "Nah- we've been having to try and beat him to the scene of a villain. But- he's so goddamn fast it pisses me off- and then that damn sidekick of his gets on my fucking nerves."

"What's he like?" You asked wanting to hear more about Endeavor's sidekick.

"She," Katsuki corrected you. "Fucking annoying. She's a strong hero I guess but she's too damn loud all the time."

"Oh.... what does she look like?" You asked, trying to keep the growing insecurity out of your voice.

"Hah? Why? What the hell does that matter?" Katsuki asked confused by your question.

"I'm just curious," you lied.

"It's Burnin' you've probably seen her in the news before, she's a pretty famous sidekick... Wait- are you jealous or something?" Katsuki asked, picking up on the tone in your voice.

"What!? No!" You exclaimed into the phone, but it was too late. Katsuki had picked up on your insecurity.

"I already told ya she's damn annoying, didn't I?" Katsuki said, his way of saying you were dumb for feeling insecure about the sidekick.

"Yeah, but you say that about everyone," you pointed out.

"That's not true," Katsuki challenged you. "I... don't say that about your ass," he mumbled voice lower than before.

Your cheeks warmed at his words, and you shifted in bed. "I miss you," you said, your voice equally as low.

"Tch- don't press your luck... You ain't getting that sappy shit out of me," he grumbled voice rough again. "It's getting late, we should rest."

"Yeah," you agreed hesitantly. He was right you both had to be up early tomorrow to be back at internships, but you didn't want to hang up.

"I'll talk to ya later," he said and paused for a moment before continuing. "I... guess I miss you too or whatever. Good night." He concluded and hung up before you could make any remarks on his sentimental words.

sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @peachsukii @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @pinkpurpledreams @that-one-fangirl69 @dreamcastgirl99 @jays-adventure3

[the-s1lly-corner]

Thank you sm 😭 you actually did so good! It felt so nice to see my favorite creepy boy with those head canons 🥹🥹 but yes your writing is absolutely amazing!! I can’t wait to keep seeing everything you write!! And I apologize in advance if I ever get too excited and request too much 🥹

Perhaps creepy boy relationship head canons with a fem!reader who attempts to steal their clothes because they miss them?

- 🩶 Anon

Laughing Jack, Eyeless Jack, and Hoodie x fem!reader who steals their clothes because she misses them!

went ahead and threw in some other characters that i think would be silly with this request since you didnt specify :3! was gonna add slenderman but im on the fence about whether or not his clothes are a part of his body.. shrugs!! feels weird not doing masky since im doing hoodie too but shrugs again laughing jack included as you state hes your favorite :3 and WAAAAH im glad you enjoyed the previous request!! and no need to apologize; i get it !! sometimes i get excited too with requesting stuff !! ill let you know if youre being too intense (though i gotta admit i love writing creepypasta stuff, had a longish break between august and now where i hardly wrote for it and i missed writing for the fandom loads TToTT)

EYELESS JACK:

honestly for a moment i was going to say his mask but i genuinely think that would be a deal breaker for him since it kind of acts as a comfort and security thing for him. even if hes not wearing the mask around you, dont take it. now his hoodie or one of his shirts... thats a different story.. would rather you ask him, though, but he does find it a little sweet that its because you missed him.. mind you he thinks so lowly of himself that he might even be a little shocked that you *miss him.. might let you keep on his shirts! might have to wash it though and patch up a hole or two but its nothing major.. though i dont think he would let you keep one of his hoodies, he has way less of those than he does shirts and he kind of needs them to keep warm.. also the hood comes in handy.. for things.. will expect you to return his belongings when asked, will not take any excuses since they are his belongings and he cant really waltz into a store and go shopping

LAUGHING JACK:

okay so this one is a little funny since i do personally hc that his clothes are just a part of his body for the sake of the post lets turn a blind eye.. theres so many options for you.. his shirt (sleeves! long and floppy!) or a spare sweater than hes claimed... hmm.. i think regardless of what piece of clothing you've taken from him he would be thrilled that you miss him THAT much! he rarely goes out, in fact i dont think its often that he goes far from where his music box is.. gotta stay in decent range, you know? but the point still stands... you miss him? i think that actually does wonders for his abandonment issues, since it reassures him that you care about him and think of him when hes away. probably scoops you up in his arms and hugs you, likely wrapping his arms around you like a snake. offers to never let you go, and kind of sticks true to that until you need to tend to your bodily needs

HOODIE:

another victim of jacket thief... a moment of silence for this man losing the thing that literally sparked his name.. okay jokes aside i dont think he would care that much, hes probably hoarded other clothing while staying with you; from hoodies to sweaters. so hes not going to sweat it if you briefly snatch something from him so long as you eventually give it back.. might sign some teasing words at you for missing him, might also prompt a session of you two cuddling.. good luck getting up because hes probably not going to let go.. why would he, you missed him! also might make him try to spend more time with you since every now and then he does have decently long periods of just. being gone doing whatever it is that he does.. probably leaves you his main hoodie and wears a different one when he knows hes about to dip for a while..

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"YOU KNOW YOU CAN TELL ME, RIGHT?"

I WROTE ANOTHER FIC WITH TANGERINE

(with my best friend's dad idea)

I hope you like it! ☝😌🖤

You rang the doorbell of your best friend's father's house and waited patiently for her to open the door.

You needed to talk to her about an important matter, and you had no choice but to go to her house in person, since she wasn't answering your messages.

When she opened the door, you were surprised, as always, to see him.

The last time you had visited them had been two months ago during Easter break.

There was no denying that Tangerine was a very attractive man.

With his height, intense blue eyes, and athletic build, you couldn't understand why his wife had left him. His eyes widened when he saw you, before gently leaning against the doorframe.

"Y/n! Is that really you?" You nodded, seeing the surprise flood his face. "It's been too long since you've been here," he commented, glancing at you. "You're…" He cleared his throat before stepping aside. "Come in, please. Do you want something to drink?"

"No, thank you," you smiled as you looked closely at the house, which hadn't changed much since then.

"Please, sit down. Make yourself at home" he offered, and you sat down on the comfortable sofa.

"Thank you," you said as he looked at you intently. "I need to talk to Grace. Is she here?"

"She's gone to Oklahoma to spend the weekend with some friends," he replied, frowning. "Didn't she tell you?"

"No," you mumbled, not believing it.

"That's weird," he murmured before looking up at you again. "Has something happened between you two?"

You remained silent for a few moments, moments in which Tangerine could see the hesitation and tension on your face.

He rested his elbows on his knees, moving a little closer to you.

"Hey," he whispered gently, "you know, whatever it is, you can tell me, right?"

"Yeah, it's just… it's hard to say out loud," you swallowed hard. "I don't think she wants to be my friend anymore," you confessed, tears beginning to roll down your cheeks. "And since she doesn't dare tell me to my face, she's avoiding me and ignoring me, and I…" you sobbed. "I haven't done anything to her, I swear, she's just stopped talking to me… and no…" you sniffed. "I don't know what to do."

"Oh, darling" he whispered gently. "Come here."

He wrapped you in his arms as you took out all your sorrow and frustration on the dark green sweater he was wearing.

You felt bad about getting it on him, but he assured you it was okay, that washing machines were there for a reason.

"I know you didn't do anything wrong," he whispered as he gently stroked your hair. "You would never do anything like that to anyone," he murmured softly. "Let me call her," he said. "I'll talk to her and fix it."

"No!" "You almost squealed. "I'd rather you do it when I'm not around," you replied. "I couldn't stand hearing you argue with her over me."

"It's not your fault she's been a bad friend," he blurted out. "She's my daughter, but that doesn't mean I can't admit when she does things wrong," he murmured. "And this time she did them VERY wrong," he explained. "What she's done to you is… I don't even have words to describe it."

"Thank you for understanding," you murmured, snuggling into him a little tighter.

"No honey, thank you for telling me," he whispered, tucking your hair behind your ear. "I know it hasn't been easy."

"I wish all parents were like you," you commented, "so understanding and kind."

"I don't know if I'd define myself with those words," he smiled. "But if you say so, it must be true"

[so-very-small]

it's not that difficult | doc ock x shrunken!reader part two

[link to part one]

[ao3 link]

Summary: It's been a week since you shrunk down in front of Otto. One week in a bird cage, of being a lab rat, and you decide it's time to escape. Of course it won't be that easy.

a/n: this was written at the request of @miniemew! it's a continuation of my previous Otto x tiny fic, and it was a blast to write. reader is gender neutral, and this goes heavy on the fearplay. that said, I hope y'all enjoy!

The past week has been a strange mix of awful and mundane.

And the open bird cage before you seems almost more like a test than a blessing.

Tests. That's what the past week has been. Otto had swept you away, into some dingy apartment that looked far too normal to belong to a supervillain. Still stuck at the unimpressive height of two inches tall, there was nothing you could do when he dropped you in a bird cage before vanishing. Despite his intense curiosity, the man had other things on his plate, evidently. He was gone for most of the nights and mornings, but in the evenings, he always had a few minutes to spare for you.

For studying you, more accurately.

Checking your vitals, measuring your height, maybe an endurance test on a hamster wheel - which was now more annoying rather than outright embarrassing. On one occasion he had drawn some blood with a needle that seemed too tiny to exist. Whatever data he had gleaned from you was carefully recorded in a notebook, before he returned you to the bird cage.

(To be fair, it actually is a pretty nice bird cage.)

It's silver, the sturdy bars just thick enough that you can't bend them out of the way, and spaced too close together to even think about slipping through. The metal bottom is covered with some fabric, an old shirt if you had to guess, which actually was quite comfortable to sleep on. The entire set up is suspended over his desk, with a relatively large door that latches tightly from the outside.

Except, this time, he hadn't quite latched it all the way.

Otto's gone right now, and it's night. If his pattern over the past week continues, he'll be gone for a few more hours at least. It takes a world of courage to even cross the bird cage over to the door, anxiety blooming in your chest. The latch was usually unreachable, but with it barely in its slot, it could spring free if you jiggle it just right. The fall to the desk would be survivable - Otto had sussed out that your shrinking had left you with some enhanced durability. From there you'd just have to find somewhere to hide, until your body finally decided to return to its normal height.

(It's as good a plan as any.)

(And frankly, it was the only plan you had. So, may as well.)

Taking in a shaky breath, you carefully take hold of the door, giving it a slow, tedious push up and out. The latch slips loose of its hold, and the door to the cage swings open with an audible creak. You cringe at the sound, eyes immediately flying up to scan over the messy office, as if Otto would conjure out of the shadows at the faintest noise. You stay perched at the door for a moment, listening carefully. There's absolutely no response - no movement, no distant sounds from further in the apartment.

After gauging the safety for a second, you decide to proceed. You jump down onto the desk, not giving yourself time to overthink it. The desk is chaos, loose wires and stray bolts scattered about, almost every surface covered with some form of scribbled down notes or blueprints. Organization is evidently not Otto's strong suit, and it takes a minute to navigate around pencils and bolts to the back of the desk. There's a small gap where it meets the wall, the cord from the desk lamp falling down to the ground behind it.

You don't really have time to weigh the small range of options you have right now, so you decide the cord is as good a move to get to the floor as any. It's just big enough to hold onto like a rope, and you carefully work on climbing down from the desk, ignoring the massive drop beneath you. With enhanced durability you wouldn't die from it, but it still wouldn't be pleasant. You'd scaled even higher climbs in your home before, but under less dire circumstances. The fear that Otto might return soundly trumps any anxiety over climbing down the cord.

You make it to the dusty floor soon enough, pausing for just a moment to catch your breath. Your heart is positively drumming in your chest, the sharp buzz of adrenaline running under your skin. You only rest for a second, though, before continuing onward, not wanting to linger any more than necessary.

The apartment was more of a workspace than an actual home, something you notice while navigating over and around the multitude of mechanical parts on the floor. It takes a minute to get your bearings, trying to find the door beyond all the scattered clutter, but you eventually find it. Out the office, down the hall, out the front door, and you'd be home free.

Escape is the only thing you have on your mind, as you swiftly creep through the messy workspace. It doesn't take too long to reach the door, the gap underneath is just big enough to squeeze through, out into the hall. The carpet fibers come up to your knees, making walking just a touch more challenging, but that's one of the last things on your mind right now. Turning right, you see the looming front door in the distance, like a beacon of hope. You immediately begin jogging towards it, a small buzzing bit of excitement starting to grow in your chest. Relief washes over you as escape gets closer and closer.

A heavy crash breaks the stillness in the air, and you immediately run into something sharp and hot. You stumble back like a bug bouncing off a windshield, falling to the ground. In front of you is an actuator, the massive claw clenching down into the carpeted ground, just a few sparse inches away from you. The actuator flexes slightly, metal whirring softly as you hear a soft chuckle behind and far above you. Paralyzed in place, the warmth of excitement immediately shifting into chilling dread, it takes everything you have to look over your shoulder.

Otto stands behind you, with a soft smile on his lips that only he could make look sinister. He lifts a hand, waving his fingers at you lightly like you were just an acquaintance at a grocery store, and not a captive in the middle of an escape attempt. You have to tilt your head all the way back to even get a glimpse of his dark eyes, the sharp curiosity in them sending another pang of fear down your spine.

The actuator rises up, causing you to whip your head back towards it, half prepared for the thing to snatch you up in its claw. It doesn't, though, instead it pulls back further and retreats behind Otto.

He looks down at you expectantly.

"Try again."

You stare at him for a moment and only just a moment, before scrambling to your feet and sprinting like your life depends on it. The drag of the carpet fibers slows you down a little, and you fully ignore it, intent on putting as much distance between you and the looming villain as you possibly can.

(But... that's what he wants, isn't it?)

(A chase.)

Heart pounding furiously in your chest, you zoom down the hallway, lungs nearly bursting from exertion. Over the rush of the wind in your ears you can't hear a single sound behind you, and you don't dare turn back to look. You make it to the very end of the hall before you hear the first footstep crash down behind you.

The living room is far less cluttered than the office, leaving nothing to hide behind, no last resort. The carpet transitioned into hardwood, making running just a touch easier. You stay focused on the sliver of light from under the front door, and not the sound of Otto casually following you, covering more distance in one footstep than you did in ten seconds.

Risking a glance over your shoulder, you find Otto practically on top of you. He'd closed the gap in no time, with that same awful smirk on his lips. The actuators are poised behind them, all their glowing eyes are trained on you. Otto's hands are carefully folded in front of him - making no move to grab you even as your speed slows down in the slightest.

(He's toying with you.)

(And the outcome of this was likely predetermined long ago.)

Without warning, a heavy boot slams down in front of you. You stumble, the small quake of his foot hitting the wooden floor being enough to knock you off your feet. The boot's angled carefully, just far enough to miss you. It's practically bus sized, utterly dwarfing your minuscule frame.

You stay still for only a moment, frozen with the icy fear that floods your veins. A distant chuckle rumbles overhead like thunder.

"Last chance," Otto says, from far, far above.

Despite the overwhelming futility, you scramble to your feet, quickly looping around the shoe in your path. It doesn't move, thank god, and you continue sprinting to the front door. Every bone in your body is screaming out for rest, but you don't dare stop.

The gap underneath the door gets closer and closer, as close as the booming footsteps behind you do. A foot away, ten inches, five, almost there .

And then Otto slams an actuator down, the tremor of his metal claw on the ground knocking you straight off of your feet once more. You hit the floorboards hard, heart pounding sent into overdrive as you catch sight of the looming claw in front of you.

Scrambling upright again, you shuffle backwards from it. The claw darts up, pointed prongs of metal now directly facing you. There'd be no way to run past it without running into it, so you dart to the right, further into the living room. There's practically no energy left in your body at all, lungs and limbs burning from exertion, and you don't dare stop. The overwhelming sound of creaking metal follows you, and there's a harsh yank on the back of your shirt as you're swept off the ground by the actuator.

You struggle, although the grip it has on the back of your shirt makes it far too tight to slip out of. Fingers scrambling up, you hook them between the collar of the shirt and your neck, trying to ease up some of the pressure.

Something eclipses the light overhead, and you barely have time to process the giant hand in your vision before it swallows you up. Otto snatches you in a tight fist, arms pinned immobile to your sides. He raises you up to his eye level, at a speed that makes the whole world swirl around you, vertigo in overdrive. His sharp brown eyes light up once you're in sight, a crinkle around the corners giving away his excitement.

Despite the overwhelming helplessness, you struggle, attempting in vain to loosen the hold of his fingers wrapped around you. His hand didn't budge a centimeter, if anything his grip tightened in the slightest amount, just enough to knock a little air out of your lungs. Otto doesn't say a word, he merely turns to the sofa in the living room, quickly crossing over to take a seat. A notebook is perched on the coffee table, and he flips to a half-filled page with his free hand, quickly writing something down.

"Was... was this a test?" You sputter out, half convinced the man would ignore you entirely. Your voice is strained, still unable to get a proper lungful of air with his fingers around you, but his brown eyes do flit to you for a moment.

Otto lowers his fist to the table, loosening it and roughly dropping you onto the coffee table. You land on top of a stack of sticky notes, and you don't dare move. Even if you wanted to attempt to run again, you're far too exhausted to even try. You let yourself collapse, still trying to catch your breath.

"Of course," Otto answers, not looking up from the page he was still scrawling on.

He eventually glances at you, leaning in slightly closer. Otto fills your entire vision, his looming for making you feel like you were in the front row of a movie theater. A little bit of brown hair fell into those dark eyes, which flicked down as he carefully took your form in.

"I wanted to see how fast you could run," he says, smiling once more. His voice is polite and even, as if he didn't just admit to terrifying you on purpose. He turns back down to his notes, still jotting a few things down. "Obviously, your functions are affected when I monitor you closely for tests. I wanted something a little less structured than a hamster wheel."

He finishes writing, carefully setting down his pen on the table. His eyes snap back to you, looking at your face carefully. You're still breathless and sore, trying to gather yourself mentally and physically from the escape attempt, and you feel absolutely pinned under his gaze.

"You couldn't really have thought you were going to escape?" he says, raising an eyebrow.

"I... I kinda did, yeah," you reply. You'd never snapped at him, never raised your voice, but the adrenaline still buzzing in your system and the absolute fury and exhaustion you feel can't help but spill out a little into your tone. "Even if I got caught, I had to try."

Otto nods, surprisingly accepting your answer with ease. He leans back on the sofa slightly, actuators draping over the back of it. His eyes are unwavering, still pointedly trained on you.

"Admirable, if not reckless," he says, "I must say though, you're far safer with me than you would be out there. I can't imagine what Oscorp would do if they got their grubby hands on you."

Pushing yourself up from the sticky notes, you rise to your feet, crossing your arms over your chest. Despite how correct he probably was, that wasn’t his call to make.

"Can't be worse than a goddamn hamster wheel," you mutter. Despite keeping your voice low, Otto does catch it, and he laughs brightly. He almost seems harmless for a second.

"I can assure you, my dear, they would not be as kind as me. I'm curious, but I do not intend to do you any harm. Other scientists, well, their methods of discovery aren't always so kind towards their specimens."

You narrow your eyes at the man, trying to gauge if you should believe him. There was no doubt that Oscorp would have been a nightmare if they had found you, and in all honesty, living at the apartment wasn't going to work out long term. You didn't need confirmation that the world outside was dangerous, but you still wonder how honest he was really being.

"You won't hurt me, but you'll keep me in a bird cage for a week?"

Otto shrugs, unbothered by the accusation.

"Can’t risk you running off and hurting yourself," he says.

He leans in once more, slowly bringing a hand down in front of you. The same one that snatched you up earlier. You look at it warily, waiting for it to grab you in a fist, pinch the back of your shirt and dangle you, but he doesn't. He simply lays it level with the sticky notes, right in front of you. You can feel the heat off of his skin, see the shift of his muscles as he waits.

"May I?"

(He'd never asked if he could hold you before.)

(You can see his fingers twitch in impatience, and decide not to push his kindness too far.)

You gingerly step onto the man's calloused palm, feeling his muscles and tendons twitch underneath you. It's a little hard to keep your balance, but he brings his thumb up, something for you to brace your hands on as he raises his palm to his face. It's far closer than when he was looming over the table, all the minuscule details on his face magnified.

"As far as I'm aware of, you're the only one like you in existence," he says. He lowered his voice for you, the usually brash and proud tone now just a quiet whisper. It was still overwhelming regardless. "I wouldn't allow harm to come your way, that would entirely deprive me of figuring you out. I am still just a physicist at heart, dear, you cannot expect me to not be fascinated by a person who can change their bodily mass on a whim."

You can feel the heat coming off his hand, the shift of his thumb under your palms. From this close, every time he exhales it ruffles your hair in the slightest. His eyes are a mix of a dozen brown shades, still locked firmly on you, and you shift your weight from foot to foot.

"It's not on a whim," you correct.

(If it was on a whim, you wouldn’t be in this situation right now.)

"But it could be," Otto says, "Someday."

With that, he rises to his feet. The thumb you're holding onto gently pushing you back, knocking you off your feet and pressing you into his other fingers, coming to rest around your waist like a makeshift seat belt. A small noise of protest escapes your lips, ignored as Otto takes up his notes and walks back to the office.

(It takes him just a few seconds.)

(All the agonizing minutes you had spent running, trying to cross that distance, and he closes it in just a few seconds.)

Otto enters the office, quickly reaching the desk and taking a seat. You half expect him to immediately return you to the bird cage. He doesn't, though, fingers shifting you slightly in his palm, so he can rest his elbow on the desk, leaving you sitting in his hand at eye level. His thumb stays locked over you, like a heavy weighted blanket in your lap.

(You don't think you could get it to budge, even if you tried.)

"You honestly know less about your shrinking than I do, and I've barely begun to scratch the surface," Otto says. He speaks with a certainty that's just a little grating. "Your powers are incredibly unstable now, but there's no indication that it will always be that way. And even so, I still want to know how it works, what makes you tick."

He looks down at you, with that familiar glint in his eyes. It's positively piercing.

"And I can promise I'll be less invasive than any other scientist you meet who wants the same thing."

Looking up at the man, you can't help but believe him. Your work at Oscorp had been brief enough to not see anything too awful, but you knew that the company had a dark underbelly. Otto, at the very least, wouldn't be killing you anytime soon. You can see on his face he's expecting a response, and you shrug.

"It's not like I have a choice, is it?"

Otto chuckled humorlessly, the slightest hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Clever little thing, aren't you?"

With that, his other hand sweeps in, two large fingers gently pinching around your chest and back. It knocks the wind out of you slightly, but his grip is careful, holding you just tight enough that you wouldn't slip from his grasp. He lifts you from his other palm, gently setting you on the desk. His warm fingers stay in place until you're balanced on your feet, and then he pulls away gently.

That clinical curiosity never once leaves his eyes. He glances behind you, searching for something amid the mess of his desk. When he reaches out for it, his arm arches over you, eclipsing the light overhead. His bicep practically becomes your entire sky, and in a second it's gone, once he grabbed the ruler behind you.

"Stand straight, my dear," he says.

You know the drill well enough, you stand up just a bit straighter as you feel the ruler fall into place behind your back. It presses flush against you, the cold plastic sending a chill down your spine. Otto leans in closer, dark eyes narrowed in scrutiny at the tiny numbers marking your height. His eyebrows raise, evidently a little surprised before he leans back in his chair, the ruler clattering down onto the table.

"You gained half an inch," he says, and you can't tell how he feels about that. There's a clinical edge to his tone, covering any real emotion.

You can't quite even tell how you feel about that. Half an inch was fairly inconsequential to regular sized folk, but it was everything to you. Things had seemed a touch smaller than before, but you didn't think you had grown that much. This was the longest you'd been tiny, and knowing you were growing back - if incredibly slowly - was something of a relief.

"Huh," you can't help but say out loud, showcasing a little of your surprise. Otto quirks up an eyebrow.

"You didn't notice?" he asks, with a small tilt of his head.

You shrug, slouching a little now that you don't have to hold yourself up.

"Everything is big at this scale, there wasn't much of a visual change," you say, "It's all still overwhelming."

Otto nods, and you can see the gears in his head turning once more. It's always obvious when he's thinking hard about something - leaning in, eyes narrowed, something intense in his face. It makes you feel like a bug under a microscope, fully on display, analyzed at every angle.

"Interesting," he comments. "I imagine at a certain point it's hard to gauge anything's size accurately, like estimating building dimensions just by viewing them. I don't blame you for not noticing."

(It's kind of a little surprising how well he gets it.)

"And you also said you grow back instantaneously, correct? This isn't typical, is it?"

You take a second before nodding, thinking back of all the times you had shrunk alone in your apartment. Most of the time you'd fall asleep tiny, and wake up normal sized - it was rare you were actually awake for growing back. The few times you had, you had only short bursts, and those were generally exhausting enough to knock you out regardless.

"I'm usually asleep for it," you say, "I just wake up at my usual height. I'm always pretty sore after."

Otto chuckles.

"I'm not surprised. I can't imagine your physical form changing that much, that rapidly, would be a comfortable feeling. If you do wind up having discomfort with growing back, I can give you something for the pain."

You don't reply instantly. You merely look up at the man, trying to read into his expression, figure out what's beyond the clinical curiosity on his face. He seems passive, detached, and then he expresses concern in the same breath. It's a little confusing, and you're tired of being confused.

"So, what's your deal?"

Otto raises his eyebrows, evidently not expecting the pointed question. He doesn't speak, but merely looks at you expectantly, tilting his head slightly as he waits for you to clarify.

"So you want to figure me out like a science project, I get that," you say, and you try not to think about if it's stupid to speak so candidly to a giant supervillain, "But why be nice to me?"

Otto's expression remains blank, and he leans in closer. Both his hands come up to rest on the desk, one on either side of you, palms pressed down onto the flat surface. His long fingers make you feel fully surrounded on all sides, that feeling only increasing when his face stops just a few relative feet from yours. His brown eyes lock onto you, and when he speaks, the breath from his lips ruffles your hair like the wind.

"You think I'm being nice to you?"

You swallow thickly, nervously looking up at the man. You resist the urge to stagger backwards - any distance you could put between the two of you, he could close in a fraction of the time. This close to his face, you can see every little imperfection in his skin, every single fleck in his eyes. It makes you forget what you're saying, for just a moment.

"I-I mean, you said yourself you're being kinder than other scientists," you say, voice coming out just a bit more timid than you'd have liked it to, "And if you really didn't care, you wouldn't worry about the pain from growing. It... I just..."

You pause, tilting your gaze down to the desk. The fake wooden swirls in the wood seem positively fascinating, much more easier to look at than the giant face in front of you. You can still feel the heat off his hands, the pressure of his gaze still on you.

"I'm sorry," you say after a second, "I'm... this is weird, I've never been kidnapped before, I'm still adjusting."

Otto stares at you for a moment more, before chuckling lightly. You hear the low noise intimately, the exhale gently brushing over your skin. He draws back, his face and one of his hands retreating to give you some breathing room.

"Ultimately when I figure out your powers, you'll have figured them out as well. At that point, you'll either escape and be clever enough to utilize said powers to evade me, and that will be the end of it. Or, you could stay and help me."

Eyebrows furrowing in confusion, you look up at the man. There's nothing but sincerity in his features, something almost as surprising as his words.

"Help you?"

"Someone who can change their size at will could be quite an asset to my work. I'm more than capable of most things, but the actuators don't lend themselves to subtlety well. I think I could get some use out of someone who can be a touch more discreet when the situation calls for it."

He wanted you.... to become a supervillain?

That's honestly not what you expected.

"So... you're being nice to me so I'll help you break the law?"

Otto shrugged.

"To put it simply, I suppose."

In all honesty, it isn't that bad of an idea. You'd heard the stories of Doc Ock, you knew he was terrifying, but he wasn't the worst as far as supervillains went.

"I'm... I'm not a killer, or anything."

Otto leaned back in his chair, and he carefully drummed his fingers on the desk. Each tap sent a small shake through the wood, reverberating through your tiny frame. With the hand so close it was almost overwhelming, seeing fingers twice as tall as you are moving so swiftly, and it's all you can do to try to not look unnerved by it.

"I'm hardly one myself, dear. The actuators do the dirty work, it's not something I'd expect of you." He pauses his tapping, thinking for a moment before continuing. "The media likes to highlight my more... uncontrolled moments. My real plan is actually nothing evil at all, it's simply a device that would create unlimited clean energy. Were you to help me, I'd just need your assistance in getting some parts, materials, that sort of thing."

He seems like he's being genuine.

There's no hint of a lie in those eyes, and while you know this man is dangerous, he's no less dangerous than everything else is at this size. Even if you didn't wind up helping him down the line - his thought on you escaping when you can control your powers was a good idea, actually - it'd be smart to play along.

His hand next to you rises up, carefully and slowly. His fingers approach you, and you try not to flinch back. It's almost like watching a bus directly come at you, the size and speed overwhelming, but you can tell his every motion is meticulous. Extending his pointer finger, he gently presses it to your back. Moving it down in almost a petting motion, a small smile flits over his lips.

"However, that's not a topic of conversation until we get a better grasp on your abilities," he says, "When you're useful enough to be an asset, we'll talk then. But for now-"

"Bird cage?" you interrupt, unable to keep back a small sigh.

Otto smiles, corners of his eyes crinkling up. The rest of his fingers dart forward, carefully flexing around your frame and scooping you up once more. You tumble back into the digits, quickly held in place by his thumb as he brings you back up to eye level.

"Oh, I thought we were beyond that?" he says, "Friends, and all that."

Otto stands to his feet, further making your head spin as you're shot up relative stories by the movement. Your hands come up to brace on his thumb, well aware the loose grip he holds you in is the only thing saving you from a long fall to the ground below. Otto raises his free hand, tugging back his leather jacket. The hand holding you drifts towards the inner pocket, and your eyes widen at the sight.

"Hey!" you yell out, because you don't necessarily want to be in a bird cage, but you definitely don't want to be in his pocket right now either. Otto doesn't respond, instead he tugs the pocket open, and drops you inside.

You tumble down roughly into the cloth, and it takes a second to scramble upright. Looking up you can see a sliver of light from the opening of the pocket, swiftly extinguished when he drops his coat back against his chest. It's warm, especially pressed right up against him, held in place by the thick leather of the coat.

"There’s a few things I need to attend to tonight,” he says, and you can feel every word shake through your bones, “Thanks for the company, my dear.”

Letting out a sigh, you relax back into the pocket, letting the warmth of him wash over you. Everything shifted slightly as he started walking, and you shut your eyes. Accompanied by the booming sound of his heartbeat and your exhaustion, it doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

[queer-overwatch]

hi!!! it's super nice to see people opening their requests for venture bc I have been digging(pun intended) for content recently!! I don't normally make requests but I particularly like this blog! if possible, could I request venture with a reader(any pronouns) who deals with rlly intense migraines? if you're unfamiliar, the primary symptoms come with headaches that can range from moderate to severe, nausea, sensitivity to light, sound, smell, lightheadedness. mine have gotten worse recently and I need some comfort 😭 thank you, and I hope you have a fun time writing!!

Venture w/ Reader that has frequent Migraines

here you go we hope this works out for you and thank you so much !!! -Xor & Frisk

══════ஜ▲ஜ══════

Venture is very accommodating, as loud as they are, when they pick up that you're not doing too great they quiet down as to not make you're Migraines worse

When you feel nauseous they're quick to suggest some fresh air or they offer you a gingersnap cookie, often recently made.

They found out ginger was a good help, no matter the way it's consumed, digging through old recipe books they got their hands on.

They're prone to having the lights on bright due to the need to see express differences in rocks. They got themselves a little spotlight so they don't disturb you when your migraines flare and the light becomes too much.

When the Migraines themselves start up they are usually by your side as soon as possible just in case you feel lightheaded and need to lean on them.

This has also caused them to be prone to picking you up and carrying you to bed or a darker quieter room.

If you allow them to they 100% enjoy getting physically affectionate and just holding you close in the dim lighting. Quietly rambling either about their latest findings, old relics and myths or whatever they find interesting

Over all they do their best to be accommodating but they're also very loud and very excitable, so they mess up sometimes. Shouting from across the room or house, with an energy that you can't always match.

══════ஜ▲ஜ══════

A little bonus blurb because we're so excited!!!! - Xor

This was written by frisk btw

"Uuuugh-"

Rummaging around Wayfinder's medbay, you wince, eyes squinted as you try to find the stash of Advil you'd hidden specifically for times like these. You had a horrid migraine and couldn't get it to subside no matter what you tried.

Turning the lights off? Didn't help. Drinking water? Nothing. Taking a nap? Couldn't get to sleep in the first place!

Spotting the bottle of your precious meds at the back of the cabinet you were ransacking, you snatch it off the self, taking two out of the bottle and silently celebrating your victory over your own brain.

Taking the pills with a totally-not-stolen water bottle, you head back to your own room to sit in the dark and hate everything for however long this migraine decides to last. As soon as you step out of the medbay though, the sound of your wonderful, amazing, spectacular, yet also extraordinarily *loud* partner, Venture, returning from their latest expedition and heading straight for you.

"(Y/n)! Guess who just found the coolest artifact ever! It's super small but its green which is awesome and it's glowing which is a little concerning but if it's cursed that just makes it even cooler and-!"

You hold up a hand to interrupt them, pinching the bridge of your nose in pain.

"Venture, love, please- you're a little too loud right now."

Almost immediately, they stop talking and stare at you silently. Without saying anything, they grab you by the shoulders and start pushing you to their room, making sure you didn't drop anything as they did.

"What- Venture what are you doing?" You question them, but allow them to guide you as they push you to what you find out is there room, letting them sit you on the bed once you reach it.

"You've got a migraine, right? You only ever tell me to quite down when you got one of those, so I wanna help!" They smile brightly at you, hands on their hips as they whisper, still as enthusiastic as before, just quieter.

You stare at them for a moment before softening, the love and concern in their eyes making you weak, then again, they were far too adorable to *not* have you wrapped around their finger. You nod and take the Advil you'd stolen earlier, watching Venture as they close the door to their room and turn off the lights, turning on a small nightlight they have instead so you could still see.

"Thank you, lovely. So, what is that you were saying about a cursed artifact?"

Immediately, they grin wider than ever and plop down next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and quietly telling you all about this apparently 3000 year old "cursed" artifact they got from someone named "Ana," no clue who that is, you silently nod along and listen to them as your headache slowly starts to fade.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

Sorry: I thought of another Makima comment/question. But before I bring that up, I am very excited to see that you are writing something for JJK!!!! I know it's going to be so perfect and give me all the feels!!!

Okay so I read your response to my question, (I'm the one who asked about character study), and I just wanted your thoughts/opinions on the jealously issue that arises with Himeno. I know you mentioned Makima being jealous of Himeno's relationship with reader, and I want to know how much of that you think is nature or nurture. It's obvious she is possessive of reader due to her nature as the Control Devil, but do you think that is equally due to nurture? i.e. what she has learned from movies or from other humans' interactions with their significant others? I love the moment when she catches Himeno with her arms around reader's shoulders. I cannot imagine the range of intense emotions and inner turmoil she felt seeing that!!! And do you think that was a recurring feeling she experienced when someone got a little too close to her beloved? I feel that is a trait that will carry on to Nayuta and all other reincarnations (as possessiveness does in the Canon!)

Thank you so much for your time once again!

Hi again, I love talking about character studies and motivations so keep 'em coming if you ever have another question \^o^/

(As for that JJK fic... it is certainly going to be a grand ride and it is going to be a bit of stray from what I typically write. I'm having fun working on the draft, it's going to come with a surprise I hope people appreciate when it's finally up and posted!)

I think that as far as Makima's jealousy though, it's a mixture of both. It's in her nature to be possessive as one who is the physical embodiment of the fear of being controlled but I attribute her behavior to nurture as well. If you're someone who has been deprived of affection your whole life, you're bound to be possessive of whatever affection you receive. That's essentially how Makima's jealousy works as far as my fics goes.

When she has a shift in how she views the reader and their relationship changes, that affection is something she prefers to have to herself. But Makima is someone very patient and we see in the canon, she has no problem playing the long game to get what she wants. She won't lash out out of her emotions even if she wants to. So during the moment where she saw the extent of the reader's friendship with Himeno, there were quite a bit of ideas she had concerning Himeno and making her disappear entirely.

But at that point in time, Makima views the reader a beacon of light for the sort of relationship she can hope to have with someone one day. The reader has, at this point, never succumbed to Makima's abilities. The reader has recognized Makima's loneliness and reached out to comfort her even though at that point, the reader's opinion of Makima was quite low. Add to the fact that Makima and Reader's relationship has improved exponentially by that point, it's something she doesn't want anyone impeding on. Not even someone who was there first as "your friend".

And yet, Makima doesn't lash out despite how much she would like to. Because the key thing Makima has always desired is being able to have a relationship with someone built on equity rather than fear and control. She doesn't want to mess that up having a jealous fit. She is afraid of losing that affection she receives from the reader, but she is more afraid of there being a day the reader succumbs to the influence of Makima's powers.

So she relies on intimidation in the moment Himeno encroaches on someone Makima claims as her own. And when she feels that is failing, she decides to rely on good old-fashioned communication when the reader prompts her to be honest as to why she is upset during their date.

But when their relationship is solidified as a couple, I see Makima making it more apparent when she is feeling jealous or needy. Lovers should be honest with one another, after all. Especially after she reveals her true identity and it didn't scare the reader off. They have their contract, marriage in Makima's eyes. It's the ultimate insurance of their relationship. So it does increase a bit from then on.

Kishibe encroaching on their peaceful life.

The reader's death at the hand of the Rat Devil, destroying precious life Makima held so dearly to her heart. It's an unforgivable crime to take that away from her.

I feel that jealousy would even extend to your family as well. Your family is her family now, something she's always desired. A family that she didn't need to make her own through force. So I feel if the reader has any siblings or close family childhood friends, Makima would feel some type of way about it.

It never makes it into the final draft, but there was a small joke in my outline about how Makima would view the reader making a contract with another devil as cheating. It was something I was only planning on being some sort of gag, but I don't think it would be too far from the truth. Makima would prefer to be the only devil the reader ever has a contract with.

And when it comes to her future incarnations, they definitely have varying degrees of possessiveness regardless of the quality of their lives. Nayuta doesn't showcase it during the sequel mostly due to the fact that for an indiscernible amount of time, it's only ever been just her and the reincarnated reader. So I imagine that when the two of them begin interacting with other people on the regular from schoolmates to even Power, it begins to come out more.

But Himeno, fun as she is, is strict about that. So Nayuta isn't allowed to let those feelings run rampant no matter how much she would like to.

[manari-archives]

Fast Times | LN4

Couple days in, I call you "baby" Three stories up here contemplatin' But what the fuck is patience Give me a second to forget I ever really meant it

pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

warnings:

word count: 1.6 k

note: again this isn't based on the entire song, just a couple of lines mentioned. also english isn't my first language so any corrections feel free to let me know and any feedback is welcome :)

masterlist

Lando Norris found himself caught in a whirlwind of fast times and fast nights. Lando had always been an ambitious soul, determined to make his mark on the racing circuit. He had fought tooth and nail to reach Formula 1, facing countless challenges and overcoming numerous obstacles. Now, he was living his dream, racing against the best in the world.

Lando had met you a few months earlier at a charity event. Your infectious smile and captivating presence drew him in immediately. You spent the entire evening engrossed in deep conversations, bonding over your shared love for adventure and passion for life. Lando had never felt such an intense connection before, and he couldn't get you out of his mind.

As the days passed, Lando found himself daydreaming about you during training sessions and team meetings. The thought of you gave him an inexplicable sense of joy and comfort. But he also experienced a whirlwind of emotions—an amalgamation of excitement, fear, and uncertainty. He was ahead of himself, dreaming of a future that was yet to unfold.

One evening, unable to resist his longing any longer, Lando picked up his phone and dialled your number. The phone rang, and his heart raced. When you finally answered, your voice greeted him with a warmth that eased his nerves. He couldn't help but call you "baby," a term of endearment that slipped from his lips before he realized it.

You, on the other end of the line, smiled at Lando's sweet gesture. You too had been thinking about him constantly since your encounter. You admired his dedication to his sport and his undeniable talent. Your connection was undeniable, and you wanted to explore where it might lead.

"Hey baby," Lando said with a hint of nervousness, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

You chuckled softly, "Not at all, Lando. I was hoping you'd call. How's everything in the racing world?"

Lando's voice grew more animated as he shared the latest updates on his training and upcoming races. You listened intently, genuinely interested in what he has to say.

"I wish you could see me race in person," Lando remarked wistfully. "Having you cheering for me from the stands would be a dream come true."

"Who knows, maybe one day I'll surprise you at a race," you replied playfully, feeling your heart race at the thought of sharing those adrenaline-filled moments with him.

As the conversation flowed, Lando and you talked about your dreams, your aspirations, and the shared excitement for life's adventures. The more you spoke, the more it became evident that your connection was something extraordinary.

"Hey, Lando," you said gently, sensing the underlying hesitation in his voice, "I want you to know that I'm not expecting you to choose between your career and me. I admire your passion for racing, and I believe in you. We can make it work, whatever comes our way."

Lando sighed with relief, feeling the weight of uncertainty lift from his shoulders. "Thank you for understanding, baby. I don't want to lose you, and I also can't imagine giving up on my dreams. With you by my side, I feel like anything is possible."

And so, days turned into weeks as Lando and you embarked on a journey of discovery, both individually and together. Lando's racing career took him to different parts of the world, and whenever possible, you would join him. You explored new cities, indulged in local cuisine, and revelled in each other's company. The exhilaration of Lando's victories on the track was magnified by your presence, his greatest supporter.

Amidst the chaos of Lando's demanding career, your love affair deepened. Lando found solace in your presence, a sanctuary in a world that moved at breakneck speed. But as the racing season neared its end, doubts began to creep into Lando's mind. The demands of his career were relentless, leaving him with little time for anything else. He struggled to balance his love for you with the pursuit of success.

You, too, grappled with your demons. You had always been a free spirit, tiptoeing past various stages in your life, refusing to be confined by society's expectations. You cherished your moments with Lando but couldn't ignore the nagging thought that your love might be overshadowed by the pressures of his racing career.

Amid your passionate affair, Lando and you faced the harsh realities of your chosen paths. The outlines on your bedsides told a tale of stolen moments and missed opportunities. Your love was like a flame flickering in the wind, uncertain and fragile. Lando was torn between his love for you and his relentless pursuit of success on the racetrack. The fear of losing you gnawed at him, as did the fear of sacrificing his dreams.

But as Lando's inner turmoil reached its peak, he had a moment of reckoning. He had to confront his demons and make a choice that would shape the course of his life. Would he choose the intoxicating rush of success or embrace the fragile love that you offered?

In a heart-wrenching twist of fate, Lando realized that his love for you could not be forgotten. It had seeped into the very fabric of his being, leaving an indelible mark. With a newfound sense of clarity, he mustered the courage to follow his heart, to take a leap of faith into the unknown. The racing circuit had given him everything, but without you, it would be empty.

On a starlit night, Lando found himself standing at the edge of the racetrack, searching for you amidst the sea of faces. As your eyes met once more, he knew that he had found his true home. The engines roared in the background, echoing the beat of their hearts as they embraced, leaving the world behind.

At that moment, Lando Norris and you embarked on a new journey, one where fast times and fast nights were replaced by the infinite expanse of love and vulnerability. You vowed to rewrite your story, to create a world where your love could thrive, even amidst the chaos of your chosen paths. Together, you would face whatever challenges came your way, united by your shared passion for life and a love that defied the limits of time and speed.

As Lando continued his racing career, you became an integral part of his journey. You provided him with the stability and support he needed, grounding him amidst the whirlwind of the racing world. Together, you navigated the highs and lows, celebrating victories and finding solace in each other during defeats.

In your quest for a harmonious balance, Lando and you experienced life's twists and turns. You faced challenges, made sacrifices, and celebrated milestones together. And through it all, your love only grew stronger. You knew that your journey would not always be easy, but your commitment to each other was unwavering.

As the years went by, Lando and you built a life filled with love, adventure, and shared experiences. You found joy in the simplest of moments and cherished the bond you had forged. Lando continued to race, his skills evolving with each passing season. You pursued your passions, carving a unique path for yourself while supporting Lando's career.

One evening, as the sun set over the racetrack, you and Lando found yourselves strolling hand in hand. The memories of your journey together flashed before your eyes.

"You know," Lando began, breaking the comfortable silence between you, "sometimes, I still can't believe how lucky I am to have you in my life."

You squeezed his hand, smiling affectionately. "And I feel the same way, Lando. Our love has been the guiding light through all the ups and downs."

"I remember those early days, filled with uncertainty and doubt," Lando admitted. "I was torn between my passion for racing and the fear of losing what we had. But you've always been there, supporting me and reminding me of what truly matters."

"It wasn't easy," you said, your voice tinged with honesty. "There were moments when I questioned if we could make it work, but it worked out, and it made us stronger."

"And you've taught me that taking risks, following my heart, is worth it," you replied, recalling the times you had embraced new challenges, encouraged by Lando's unwavering support.

As you continued your walk, the sounds of the racetrack faded into the background. It was just the two of you, wrapped in each other's embrace.

"You are my home, Lando," you said, your voice soft but resolute. "No matter where we go or what we face, as long as we have each other, we'll always find our way."

Lando pulled you close, his arms encircling you with a sense of security. "You're right. We've come so far, and our love has been the driving force behind it all. I promise to cherish every moment, to be present in this journey with you."

With tears glistening in your eyes, you pressed a kiss to his lips. "And I promise to be your biggest supporter, your pillar of strength, no matter where life takes us."

[shmowder]

I love thinking about how each healer would comfort their s/o differently, like they’re all healers but manage the emotional aspects of pain in different ways. to me, once he’s attached to u enough, daniil could probs be very soothing if he wanted to be and if the situation called for it. calm whispers, “it’s ok, i’ve got you. I know it hurts but I will make it all go away”, featherlight touches that almost feel dreamlike. artemy is like the silent but calming presence that feels reliable and like home, yk? a glass of water that’s always full, gentle back rubs, layers of blankets that make you feel like there isn’t a worry in the world. I love them both so much, especially as someone who is always ill and or injured lmao. would love to hear ur take tho! love u lots!

i love you lots too anon. i might not know you but i do love you. lots.

Different ways they'd comfort you

[ Comfort, Fluff, Can be either platonic or romantic ]

[ Bachelor, Haruspex, GN Reader]

Daniil Dankovsky

It is common knowledge that the bachelor doesn't have the best bedside manners. His eloquent speech can take a sharp turn if provoked. Be it the accidental condescension or the occasional sarcasm, there are so many reasons why he'd be placed approximately at the bottom of the figurative list of people to seek comfort from.

And yet, you do.

He doesn't know how to deal with tears, which leads to his lack of tact as the only thing he can manage to say to you is to stop crying.

Is he saying it to you? It's worded like an order, much like he'd tell a patient to stop sneezing whilst aware it's an involuntary bodily reaction. Crying is an almost petellar reflex to intense emotions, high stress, overwhelming joy, or consuming despair.

Doctors grow jaded with time, the daily exposure to patients experiencing what could be considered the worst days of their entire lifetime simply does that to someone. Many people die before your eyes, you simply have to keep going and go check on the other patient waiting in the next room over.

Cases ranging from a newly teething infant experiencing mild discomfort with an overly concerned mother to a young newly wed person, about to receive the devastating news in the form of a positive test results confirming the suspicions about a terminal illness.

The trivial problems of the daily life simply pale in comparison.

You pour your heart out to him and his first instinct is to look for a solution, not realising the importance of simply venting.

He doesn't understand why you keep coming back to him exactly, especially after he messes up each time. Adding fuel to the fire, the only thing he manages to do is make you feel worse than you've felt before talking to him.

When life gets him down, he gets up, dusts himself off, and tries again. Simple as that. He refuses defeat;Daniil will never concede.

It's just what he's used to. His sharp tongue rarely spares him, and unlike other people, Daniil can't simply walk away from himself when his mind won't shut up as it constantly nitpicks on every single one of his mistakes and shortcomings. He is subjected to having to deal with himself every hour of the day.

You're asking him for something which he cannot even give to himself. Isn't it unfair? How could he extend you warmth and comfort when he can't even provide it for his own self.

It was easier to simply repress it all, to focus on the main prize above his head and ignore everything else.

Time after time you seek him out during your most vulnerable moments and he messes up. He feels insufficient, inadequate for this delicate role.

But you don't stop nor ever learn, you take whatever little kindness he's able to provide and treasure it.

Daniil hates feeling inadequate.

You make him want to try harder.

And so he learns, seeks books and guides. Clumsily attempts several techniques, works hard to reconnect with the emotions he has ignored all his life, with the sympathy he buried deep down.

With empathy.

Most importantly, he learns when to shut up.

Daniil is almost embarrassed by how effective his attempts at comfort became once he just closed his mouth and let you talk without interruptions, once he stopped listing solutions and learned how to listen.

To imagine how you must be feeling, to attempt to contextualise it and paint a semi accurate picture in his mind. To feel even a fraction of your pain.

And you see his sincerity behind the stiff expression and awkward shoulder patting. The way his eyebrows scrunch as he attempts to come up with an adequate sentence that could lessen your pain, or at least acknowledge it.

Daniil Dankovsky struggling for words is not a sight easily forgettable.

Gradually, he becomes better at reading your emotions. Realising what it is you truly need at the moment, be it words of encouragement, a hug, some time alone or just to talk shit together about the source of your pain, be it a person or else.

Physical contact isn't something he is very accustomed to either. You don't get many hugs in Thanatica, handshakes, however? yeah, there are plenty of those.

It's not just you he learns to console through this, but himself too. It was a pleasant side-effect that should've been obvious in handsight, yet he overlooked somehow.

He's better at regulating his own emotions, his infamous temper visits less and less frequently. Instead of simply getting up after falling down, he takes a moment to catch his breath now. He thinks of you, his motivation, of how he should probably go back home and have dinner with you rather than keep reattempting this failing experiment over and over.

Daniil comforts you with the same novelty of someone who hasn't known much comfort in his life. It's raw and callow at times. He's clearly putting in the required effort and more, overcompensating for his previous shortcomings.

He makes it known that you're not alone.

That this, too, eventually will pass. You've managed to overcome so much before, you'll survive this, too.

It's not easy, it never will be. Life is hard, so accept his offers of help. Let him carry your portion of responsibility while you get on your two feet, he'll be diligent.

Daniil might not be very good with vulnerability or emotions, but he has got everything else you could need. He will learn, never stay stagnant or let failure deter him. Whatever you require, he will accomplish and more.

Because he cares for you deeply.

The sight of you in pain is simply too much; he'll become restless and attempt to fix the situation in any way possible. He will make the pain go away. He is a doctor goddammit, and his degree has to amount to something in these situations.

It has to.

Daniil learns to lovingly cradle your face and gently wipe the flowing tears. To reassure you that everything will be okay, he promises.

Artemy Burakh

As early as he could remember, his father, Isidor, was always authentic with his emotions and feelings. Even more than most men were comfortable with showing during this time period.

Isidor taught him not only to listen to his heart, but to take it seriously. Emotions are what makes living worth living, what right do we have to supress them? If tears want to flow, then let them. If you care about someone, then cherish them.

The kin respected their own bodies and intuition, a burden shared is a burden halved, a joy shared is a joy doubled. They looked out for each other, they mourned with their neighbours and celebrated their friends achievements as if their own.

Generous in their love and sorrows.

They never subscribed to the notion of individualism or keeping up appearance, the put-together apathetic facade this new age is making people wear. The pointless masquerades and supressing emotions, the need to pretend that humans were something above the sensitivity of mammals.

That the heart was simply a machine.

These lessons were embedded deep within Artemy, to be proud of what he feels, to never ignore a single feeling nor diminish his own needs. He was loved, deeply during childhood and he carried that love with him everywhere he went.

It made him stand out during his years of travelling, his blunt authenticity made him memorable.

War is never easy, much stronger men became husks of themselves in front of his own eyes in the army. Artemy witnessed the fall of commanders with hearts of steel.

No matter how apathetic and uncaring anyone seems, their hearts are always laid bare before him on the surgery table, their lips always end up calling for their mother as Artemy extracts the ninth bullet from the deep wound in their thighs.

Yet his resolve never faltered no matter how grim his daily life became, his well of empathy never dried up. Because the answer to life difficulties was never to rawr and bite it back, you can't just be brave and bite the wind back.

His softness kept his mind intact. The love nurtured within him from a young age was what protected him during those years of madness. War couldn't break him, despair could never trick him, he trusted his body and heart far too much to fall into these traps.

If anything, his tested resolve only strengthened. He stubbornly digged his heels into the dirt below and refused to abandon hope.

You need to be soft in order to be truly strong. To allow the waves of emotions to pass through you like a river instead of constantly swimming against the tides.

No situation is too hopeless, no pain is permanent. There is no dignity in suffering, there is no bravery in hurting.

Artemy is more aware of other's emotions than people realise. It's a children's game to imagine himself in someone else's shoes and picture what they might be feeling. He just rarely mentions it or puts it to use.

People don't like it when you point out their emotions to them, he learned that the hard way. If someone wants to feign ignorance or remain unaware of their own feelings, than it is simply not his business.

He immediately notices it when your mood starts to shift. Of course he does; you're an important person in his life.

But you'll need to speak up for him to be able to address the elephant in the room. If you're not upfront or dismiss his questions about how are you feeling lately then he won't push the subject or attempt to force answers out of you. He'll respect your decision and wait until you come to him out of your own volition.

Artemy is a reliable support beam in this town, much like his father once was. Be it the kin or else, people entrust him with their moments of need and weakness. The kin seek him out during times of strife, he fullfills the Menkhu role earnestly.

Whatever you're facing seems much more manageable with him supporting your back. Catching you whenever you fall and allowing you to rest, sharing his wamrth with you when the world outside is too cold and cruel.

He makes you feel loved through his actions and words.

His smile is especially reassuring, the hardned face of someone who has seen far too much of humanity's cruel and sadistic side. Who has witnessed the worst of the worst of people and could still fearlessly love afterwards.

You'll be held in his arms, hugged and craddled for as much as you need. His body feels strong, you feel safe. He whispers words of wisdom, be it prayers to the earth to watch over you or reassurance that you're more than enough, that stronger than you know, that you'll always be more loved than any sense of despair could overwhelm you.

He keeps your body rested and well-fed, freshly cut fruits he coax you to try. Warm soup he shamelessly brings a pot of to your door each day in case you didn't have lunch, pouring you a glass of water whenever the two of you sit down. He is very attentive to your basic needs.

Your mind, however, he doesn't know a remedy for. He's deeply sorry that you've been dealt an unfair hand in this life, Artemy will ease the pain as many times as it takes. He will usher the monsters and whispering shadows away, he will guide you to the light whenever the corners of your mind get too dim.

Because he never takes your happiness for granted, he treasures every single day when you're sound of body and mind. He knows to count his blessings.

And it's worth it in the end to see you smile again. It's worth all the fussing and hard work, it's worth everything in this world. Loving you is worth it.

He's thoughtful, gentle, and patient. He listens to your tales of sorrow, lets you pour your heart out to him, and stain his clothes with your tears as he keeps a hand on your back. Telling you he is here, by your side and he is never going anywhere else.

He will remain here, protect and watch over you until his hair turns grey and his skin wrinkles.

Holding your hand in his, running his thumb over your skin, intertwining your fingers together as he pulls you closer.

Kissing the temple of your head, vowing your safety, whatever your cost may be.

Let him share your burden, entrust him with your pain. He will be strong enough for the two of you, he will be as soft as a feather to cushion your fall.

And everything will be okay.

[awmancreeper]

☆⋆｡Farewell, Star Boy°‧ミ★˚｡⋆ 5 - Devil by the Window

Synopsis:

--⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔭After a messy breakup, the stoic Y/n makes a vow that “not a single guy on earth” can ever win her heart again. She is proven right when a beautiful extraterrestrial being crash lands into her life, but for some reason, the being has an attitude. Now trying to continue with her life, Y/n and her friends figure out that the being is truly out of this world.

Masterlist / prev / next

!!written parts!!

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Your throat burned as your legs shook.

Finally taking a break from running through this grim and shadowy forest, the deep rumbling sound caught up to you

Your eyes shot across the forest trying to find the source of the sound but were only met with large dark trees and a foggy atmosphere.

You felt your heartbeat in your head as your eyes began to water; you were afraid of what hid amongst the trees

And as if the creature could read your mind or maybe sensed your fear, a deep chuckle rumbled from the forest

Now with dooming in your ears, a large being stepped out amongst the trees, its piercing blue eyes catching your breath and preventing you from screaming.

The figure was abnormally tall, with a gray/white sunken face, its black scleras assisted their blue iris to stand out.

In a strange state of paralysis, the uncanny sensation swallowed you whole as the figure approached. Only feeling your hot tears run down your cheeks it reaches its lanky hand out towards you.

Shooting up in your bed, you gasped for air as you sobbed; looking around the room to ground yourself.

Holding your shirt, you felt as if your heart was gonna burst out of your chest. Looking at the clock it read:

*4:53 AM*

Slightly groaning, you have only been about to ‘sleep’ five minutes since your last nightmare. Sleep is like an overstatement more like being transported into a state of paralysis as your nightmares brought you back to the dark forest.

Wishing your brother had spent the night or even gone to his place. Without another choice, you chalked it up to your mind playing tricks on you trying to comprehend the traumatic event that occurred in the woods.

You shifted in your bed, grabbing your phone in hopes of mindlessly scrolling through an app to pass the time before the enviable exhaustion consumed you.

You cringed and squinted as the screen was too bright for your tired eye, blinking a couple of times you realized that your phone was acting up again. The screen glitches out constantly opening and closing apps until it opens the camera app

Groaning at the thought of having to buy a new phone with money you don’t have made a pit in your stomach form only to be subsequently overpowered as the back camera focused on your window

Your heart dropped to your ass as you stared at your phone. Hoping it was just your curtains and sleep-deprived mind playing a trick on you, a large silhouette stood outside your window.

But it was impossible, your apartment was on the third floor, so how could someone or something be standing outside of your window?

Either way, your hand shook staring at it, and your thumb trembled over the button wanting to capture this as you hadn't realized you were crying again

Yet the sound of the camera app shutter buzzed through your ears making your body freeze,

you slowly dropped your phone only to find the figure gone.

Suddenly you hear your door alarm charmed signaling the living room balcony open. Cursing the day Beomgyu installed door alarms tears streamed down your face.

You came to a conclusion whatever you were looking at, was looking back at you….

You pulled your comforter over your head “It’s just a dream, wake up” you chanted to yourself, pulling up your brother's contact you rang him

No answer, in fact, no signal…

Crying out silently, you rubbed your eyes intensely, you pinched your skin; anything to wake you up from this nightmare.

Until the sound of your room door opening invaded your senses, your body burned as you froze…

You thought about your brother, and your friends how deeply you were going to miss them. You thought about your lonely life and wished you could’ve stepped out of your comfort zone a bit more, even now waiting to die

“Goodbye world,” you thought as quickly grabbed your lamp

“AHHH!” You yell sitting up not wanting to go down without a fight, only to be met with a flinching figure as it shrieks in fear.

“Please don't hurt me!” It spoke in a strange language

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