#and also bc I prefer to write everything before I post so I can go in and edit relevant sections if need be

[fairyhaos]

How To Fucking Write: a guide by fairyhaos

[masterlist]

this post details:

STARTING A STORY

PACING A STORY

hi gays and gals and welcome to "how to fucking write", a post (series) where i talk about how i brainstorm for writing, plan for writing, write the writing, and everything in between. nothing too serious here lmao, but i'm definitely planning on making at least a couple posts on this bc a) it's fun and b) i wanna help! so if you find this useful then pls lmk by reblogging + drop an ask if there are any specific things u want me to give my two cents on ^^

okok and now without further ado,,, let's look at the topics i'll talk about in today's post!

#1 - HOW TO START A STORY.

.. bullet point one : have an idea

the first big thing is that you need an idea. doesn't matter if you're a pantser and don't plan out your writing before you start. that's totally fine! but before you begin, you need at least an idea: maybe it's a vibe, a character personality, a specific journey you want the characters to go on. maybe it's a piece of dialogue. maybe it's the ending- the point you want to end up at after however many thousand words.

whatever it is, it's best to have some inspiration, some idea of what you wanna do. no point in writing if you don't know what you're writing, you know?

(of course, that brings up the issue of Having An Idea in the first place, but finding inspiration to write is a whole other can of worms we can open in another post.)

.. bullet point two : practice

okay, so now you have an idea. how do you put that idea to paper? how should you actually start your story?

it’s all to do with practice.

it’s the most annoying piece of advice in the world, but it helps so much. you just have to write lots and lots and lots, to find the way that works for you. whether you wanna start your stories with pretty scene descriptions, with dialogue, with dramatic one-liners. finding your voice, your style, what’s most comfortable for you, is really really important. and takes practice.

an example, though: for me, i prefer either a line of dialogue, or one-liners that a) help immediately establish a character’s personality or can b) introduce an interesting setting.

[chan + swingset] — one-liner example

[hoshi + silly] — dialogue example 

but of course, everyone’s style is different. so i’d recommend playing around! find a list of one-word prompts and just write a few that inspire you, writing the beginnings. it’s important, also, that you’re having fun, because if you’re already struggling with starting to write, it’ll be even harder if you’re doing it while feeling stressed.

.. bullet point three (mostly just for longer fics)

maybe you don’t find a style, in the end. maybe you’re comfortable with all of them, which is totally fine! but then you look at your writing, and you think, “oh… this isn’t as good as i thought.” 

and it makes you want to give up. what do you do, then? how do you carry on with your start?

just put words to paper. it doesn’t matter if the words are terrible, if you’re making up shit and using placeholders for description words or whatever. just carry on, get to a place you’re happy with, like the end of a scene, or maybe a dialogue exchange you really like.

because now, guess what? you’ve successfully created a first draft.

making first drafts is actually so important. seriously. first drafts allow you to fuck up, allow you to write terribly. they help you fumble and trip your way to the finish line (or at least a rest point) so that you can go back and do better.

even if your first draft is terrible, it’s helped you make your way to a point you’re happy with. now you have a vague idea of what you want, even if the description or characterisation or something is way off. because now, you can edit it, or even scrap it and use only a few words from that draft in your next one. or maybe, if you look back at it, maybe it’s even decent enough for you to use. 

whatever it is, when you first start writing that story, think of it as ‘The Worst Draft’. because it probably won’t be as good as you want it, and it’s okay. just write, with no fears of it being bad, because that’s literally fine. it’s not set in stone. the backspace button exists. after your first draft is made, make another. and another, and another, because i promise, after that first draft, it only gets better from there.

#2 - PACING A STORY.

.. bullet point one : adding things

pacing is always really tricky. however, i do think that slowing a story down is easier than speeding it up, so here we go,,,,

finding out the exact way to slow down a story really depends on what type of story you're writing, but there are a few all-round things you can do which can help pretty much any setting.

if it's a scene with loads of dialogue, and things feel like they're jumping to the end topic too quickly, add descriptions. your readers are blind, writers, and they depend on you to be able to see what's going on. are your characters having a conversation on the street? take a break to describe what they see. are they in a coffee shop? maybe someone comes in with a huge noise, or their coffee arrives at their table. are they hanging in midair with nothing around them? well, describe the actions of the character they're talking to, then.

example: (from my seoksoo fic bc it's the only long fic i'm working on rn)

by adding character descriptions, movement, thoughts, instantly everything seems to have slowed down. it thickens time, allowing you to move at a more leisurely pace.

if it's a scene full of action, you can do the exact same thing. maybe there's a high-tension moment and something significant happens. slow down time there, describe something small in great detail. talk about the thoughts they're having.

and even if it's just an ordinary scene, describing is important. the setting, the characters' actions, their thoughts. it's okay to write too much. then you can delete things which make things feel like they're moving too slowly.

.. bullet point two : delete

not gonna lie, finding out how to speed up the pacing of the story can often be really specifically tailored to the setting of the story.

with stories that have loads of action (spy, apocalypse, etc) i'd recommend adjusting sentence length. you'll want short, punchy sentences, without loads of commas and clauses, but you'll also want to experiment with having those short sentences gradually get longer. it helps with tension and suspense.

it has to be short. running fast. something to elevate fear. quick, but also desperate, before they then spill over each other, picking up pace, all of the thoughts blurring together and going faster, and faster, and faster, and then-

then the penny drops.

people use the metaphor of music a lot, and it really does work that way. it needs to ascend to its climax: gently, cautiously, before sprinting upwards and only describing things like the barest emotions (the fear they feel, the panic, anger, anything) before everything reaches its peak and comes crashing down in a flurry of action descriptions.

but of course, the easiest way to speed up something is to delete. delete swathes of setting description. delete unnecessary dialogue. delete an entire scene and rewrite with only the things you remember (which can help make sure you only have the essentials in your scene, btw. very helpful).

it might take a bit of adjusting, rewriting, moving things around, but ultimately, quickening the pace of the story depends on the way in which you write things. be concise, be dramatic, and don't dawdle.

... and that's it ! if anyone has anything else they want advice on (how to structure, how to write dialogue, how to plan etc) then just shoot me an ask, because i'd love to help however i can :)

tagging: @selenicives who asked for this in the first place hehe ^^

[heizouz]

hi hi!! (i’m the same anon that requested your LOVELY thoma post 🤭)

ok i loved your childe post (and your scara post)… but imagine the two of them together………

imagine them both having their competitive sides come out as they wanna be so good and be your favourite, and they want all your attention…………… teehee

- (i might do some more requests in the future……. so i’m signing off as 🌱 anon)

nsfw sub!childe + sub!scaramouche + afab!reader, dumb puppy childe, good boy scara

i just want u to know u changed my life w this req bc the things i would do to have both of them at my feet …. anon ur a genius. this is probably a bit longer than what i usually write bc damn i had a lot to say… ++ you didn't specify gender so to make it easier for myself i had to settle with afab reader! im sorry if you would've preferred something else ☹️ also heed warning for faye's never ending saga of the reader calls childe puppy in everything she writes 😭

childe is loud when he wants your attention. he's all whiny tones, touchy hands, sly grins. scara is the opposite; glaring eyes, fidgety, body pressed closer than usual.

so you knew something was up when they were both clinging to you; childe's arms thrown around you, face buried in your neck with messy kisses and when you look over at scaramouche, his face is set hard, eyes piercing into childe's head whilst his fingers find yours to hold.

you'd rolled your eyes, pushing them away and telling them you'll get to them later and although childe had whined, they'd dragged themselves off, muttering and arguing at each other on their way out.

it wasn't long till they were back on you, though, their desperation oozing through their touches and presses of lips against your skin. it was almost as though they were fighting for your attention—scara climbing onto your lap when childe's kisses met your neck, childe grumbling when scara steals your attention with his tongue parting your lips. you could feel scaramouche's smirk against your mouth, and then childe's hands against your thighs and you knew the two of them were not going to stop till they were spent out and basking in your devoted attention.

that's how you ended up where you were now: childe's face stuffed between your parted legs, lapping and moaning against your drooling cunt, and scaramouche grinding against your hip, head buried in your neck as your fingers every so often tease his cock when they're not wrapped in childe's hair.

"god, you're—you're so messy." you breathe out, staring down at how childe seems to be needier than you are, bottom half of his face covered in your arousal. he meets your eyes—his pupils blown wide, pretty blue eyes practically glistening as you gently push your hips towards him more. childe just grins before he shuts his eyes, moaning obscenely against you.

your hips stutter at the vibrations, soft moans falling from your lips and at the noise, scara involuntarily presses his cock harder into your side. you chuckle lightly, slightly breathless and you turn your head to the boy. he refuses to look at you but you can see the way his dark eyebrows are furrowed, his fingers digging into his upper thigh to ground himself.

"do you want help, pretty boy?" you quietly ask, fingers brushing through his bangs. scaramouche nods, hesitantly, as if he was embarrassed at how desperate he was being.

you hum before your soft fingers grip scara's hair and tug his face from your neck. the boy gasps, eyes widening when he meets yours and you smile sweetly. "you need to say it if you really mean it, baby."

scaramouche pants quietly, eyes lidded as he stares at you, face void of any noticeable emotion but his eyes are gleaming with want.

"please." he whispers, almost as if he's out of breath and it's so pretty to hear him beg.

scaramouche's needy sounds attracts a once focused childe and he cracks his eyes open, latching onto the sight of scara fucking into your fist as your free hand runs over his arms and chest. his own chest flares with want, and an involuntary loud whine rips from his throat, pulling off from your heat to furrow his brows at you.

you oblige almost immediately, letting go of his hair to let him hide his face again as much as you'd love to see his pretty expressions. your hand falls between your bodies, slim fingers wrapping around his leaking cock. his moans are muffled against your shoulder, but the needed friction against his cock increases the volume and they're so loud and clear in your ear.

the noise grabs your attention and you can't help but curse at the state of him so stupidly in need of your constant attentiveness.

"you're so dumb," you groan, hand fisting tight into childe's orange hair, pulling his head back so his needy glassy eyes stare back at you, "my dumb pup."

childe moans at the pet name, eyes still fixed on you, fingers digging into your thighs. he's being patient, waiting for you to let him indulge in you now he's got you to notice him, so eager to please but you just keep him there for a second—fingers tight in his hair, his bright blue eyes lidded and needy, your arousal dripping from his pretty parted lips. he's such a beautiful sight.

"he does look dumb." scara announces when he lifts his head from your neck, tone monotonous but you can hear the breathlessness of awe dripping from his voice. childe whimpers, gaze flickering to scaramouche, to how he cants his hips slowly into your hand and childe's eyebrows cinch, his own hips pushing into the bed desperately at all the attention.

you can tell he's losing—his head emptying and wanting nothing but to please and to be pleased. you card your fingers softly through his hair (he leans into the touch, head dropping into your palm like a needy dog) and pout, which turns into a slight grin as he just seems to be so at ease under your touch. "keep going, pretty thing."

childe obliges in delight, eyes flickering up to watch your expression when he kisses over your clit—you push your fingers through his bangs, moving them to glance lovingly down at the boy as he takes orders from you so well.

it's so much, trying to split your attention on to the both of them, as one whines louder than the other once your gaze drops to someone else. but you adore it; adore the way they both seem to need you so bad, how they can only focus on you.

scara is whimpering, whining into the pillow, face buried between your arm and the cushion. he can't face you, but he reaches out to wrap his fingers around your forearm to ground himself as he pushes his cock in and out of your fist. you know he's close because his grip is almost cutting off the blood circulation in your arm. you help him; fist tightening around his cock, flicking your wrist along the length of it, pressing your lips close to his ear to whisper, "let go for me, baby."

and he does at your command. scaramouche moans, loud and pretty, nails digging into the skin of your arm when he finishes into your fist. he bucks his hips, tears building up behind his tightly closed eyes, face pressed into the white pillow beneath him. he sounds so pretty, low and whiny, slightly muffled and gasping as his movement slow.

you refuse to let up though, stroking him through his high and scara whimpers as his sensitive tip hits your palm. "c-can't-" scara mumbles, shaking his head and he lifts it slightly to blink up at you to show his teary eyes.

"no, you can do one more. you wanted this, didn't you babyboy?" you muse, tilting your head to keep eye contact with him when the boy tries to look away. scaramouche doesn't answer—eyebrows scrunched, embarrassed at the pet name—but quiet pants fall from his lips, a whimper bleeding into the gasps when you squeeze his sensitive cock.

"you just wanted my attention, right? well, now i'm giving you it, so just one more for me, hm?"

scara sighs and shoves his face back into your forearm, hesitantly nodding because you're right.

"that's a good boy."

childe's eyes narrow, glaring daggers at scaramouche's writhing body and the praises falling from your lips, chest swirling with both want and annoyance at the attention scara is getting. you're still moaning, pretty and quiet, your eyes still flickering to childe taking care of your cunt but it's not enough. he flares, wrapping his arms further around your thighs to trap them with a short growl; running his tongue along your dripping slit before dropping lower and teasing your hole.

"fuck! god that's—good boy, puppy." the motion gets you to notice him immediately. your back arches, head tipping back and free hand going to grab childe's hair and the boy almost grins against your pussy, nails digging into the skin of your thighs when he does it again.

"shit—you're—" you cut yourself off when your eyes slightly roll back, moans dropping from your lips at how childe practically devours your cunt. he hums knowingly, cockily, slick noises filling the room as he laps at you, letting you slightly push yourself closer to his face as your grip on his hair keeps him in place.

your other hand halts for a second around scaramouche's cock, arms feeling slightly weak and it forces the boy to seek his own pleasure. scara whimpers, pushing his hips hard against your hand, parted lips panting hotly against your neck until your hand disappears completely and he almost bursts into tears.

"n-no! please-" scara bucks into the air, trying to force your hand back down but you hush him. "patience, baby." your voice is breathless, eyes still glued to childe who doesn't let up against your heat. scara whines lightly but he's obedient, humping against your side when you let him.

you're so close, body hot and shaky but when you feel your stomach coiling, you rip childe off your glistening cunt despite how much you wanted to ride his pretty face. the boy pulls away with a gasp, big eyes blinking so pretty and perfect.

"c'mere, pup." you gasp, dark eyes fixing on childe's glittering blue ones. your index finger catches under childe's chin, motioning him up to your face and he obliges instantly. he crawls above you, trapping your frame under his, leaning down to crash his lips against yours. your hand reaches for his jaw, holding him, guiding him to show you're still in charge despite how he's on top.

"you gonna fuck me, hm? gonna make me cum all over your cock?" you whisper against his lips, your tone teasing, and he drops his head when you let go of his face.

"hah—please." childe pants into your neck, head nodding dumbly, gliding his cock over your stomach. you can feel scaramouche twitch at your words, pressing his cock against your side with a quiet whimper. they're both grinding against you, no longer fighting for your attention, just desperate for you to help them cum.

your hand finds scara's dripping cock again, ripping a choked cry from the boy, tugging at him at a relentless pace that knocks whimper after whimper out of him. your other hand reaches for childe's hair to make him look at you, "be a good boy and fuck me then."

[serinesaccade]

Les mis Enjoltaire ficrec list part 1

Hi all, I decided I'd do a scan of my extensive bookmarks list to bring together basically everything I've consumed of enjoltaire. I have not been publishing much but I can still share what brought me joy. These are not in a reasonable order (just by my reading history chronologically) and I'll be limiting them on a one-fic-per-author basis so I don't just recommend you my fave authors 100 times. See below the readmooore for the first part of this effort (page 1-5 of my bookmarks)

dressing apollo by Tegami

Model Enjolras and hot mess designer Grantaire on a reality TV show, handled brilliantly. What else do I need to say.  how sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame is also essential reading.

With My Feelings On Fire (Guess I'm a Bad Liar) by pumpkinspiceprouvaire

Enjolras and Grantaire enter the stupidest and pining-est arrangement of all time. This list is going to make it very obvious that I have trope preferences and frankly, I don’t care. This is Delicious and so is basically everything else by this author

Walk Me Home by kjack89 for serinesaccade

It is impossible to pick a good fic by kjack89 out of their infinite library of good fic so I cheated and picked the one written for me

no more cyanide kisses (i’m methylene blue) by Mousetrap

Hurts so good

send you my love on a wire by blairs

Hilarious fics, gotta love blairs

i looked to you instead by Anonymous

suckerpunch by televisionbodies

say my name a million times (and i still haven’t heard you say it enough) by dyhtps

the road not taken by Petr1chor

Another heavy debate over which fic to pick out of many greats

Revolution Barbie by StrangeOccurrence

Lesbiabs but like weirdly serious and sexual

It's You And It's Been From the Start by stellatundra

Screaming

best practices in seasonal dessert distribution: a primer by twofrontteethstillcrooked for stardust_and_sunlight

Brownie sweet

Beautiful & Good by Riotstar

Emotionally difficult for me to read like I am not sure I can continue but? Important?

in momentum. by AnnaBolena for ShitpostingfromtheBarricade

how long it's gonna be (before we get on the bus and cause no fuss) by samarskite 

The Finer Points of Communication by ShitpostingfromtheBarricade

God I love this author

And Pages To Go by femmebingley

here i am leaving you clues, by moonswinger

you can’t kill me after this fic bc I am already dead

Ho, Ho, Oh No by catstrophysics

stuck together by whooves

fire in our bellies and furtive little feelings by sarahyyy

Classic bigtime writer with big big list

the first time we met we hated each other by mariuscourf

I get so excited when they post

Silvertongue by resnovae

Compromise by Akigriffin

I am a sucker for acespec

What’s it like to date someone? by Wildrivver

Patron Saint of Silent Restraint by vivalataire for emmettcadrian

If It Ain't Baroque, Don't Fix It by vivalataire

Lost in Translation by ellevaire

It's Not the Same Anymore by ShameDumpster

Insanely cute and deeply real, I read it over and over

Witchboy by tothewillofthepeople

Ughh how does one write so good

[weezerblue]

friends, best friends

A/N the scrapped version of this might come out soon

ALSO : im going back and posting old drafts, unfinished or otherwise bc i have like 40 so enjoy those ; this is an alternative ver of something else i did but my memories of most of the drafts are kinda non-existent like i don't remember writing most of the stuff i wrote during this time (sorry if this is bad)

description steve takes you out on a date after school and gives you the night of your life.

includes aftercare, soft dom steve, nicknames like baby, princess and, cutie, and typical first date stuff

"baby, wake up we gotta go"

his voice startles you, so you wake and grab his wrist to check the time.

"it's already 12:30! how long was I sleeping for?"

he gets up, yawns and grabs your bag for you.

"do you wanna go out later? that one restaurant you always talk about is open and since we're like- official and all now"

you're taken by surprise that he actually wants to be serious about this.

"yes please" you say eagerly, and take his hand as he leads you down the hallway and into your class.

"baby, isn't your class over there"

"yeah, so what?" he shrugs, opening the door for you and taking a random seat and tapping the desk next to him, gesturing for you to sit dangerously close to him.

the end of the day approaches, not without receiving a lot of teasing from steve, leaning over to trace small circles across your thighs with his fingers, looking over at you occasionally.

he opens the door for you again, going around the back of the school because it was closer to his car.

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

you both get seated. and you can already sense the dirty thoughts that are about to come to your mind. there's something about the way steve looks at you, holds your hand, or gently touches your thigh that makes you unbearably horny.

"what's on your mind, princess?"

he shifts his focus to you.

"um- nothing i just, i was thinking of something"

"mind sharin' that something with me, sweetness?" he chuckles.

you rub your thighs together. then you just decide, screw it, he probably knows anyways so there's no point in lying.

"i'm, uh- i'm horny"

you hide your face with your hands, steve's arm still wrapped around you.

"ohhhh so that's what it was, i thought so but I didn't wanna assume. ya should've told me earlier though, could've taken care of you in the car on the way here."

he pulls you closer to him, kissing your neck.

"steve." you look up at him, embarrassed by his teasing. it's one thing to do it in private or in school, but you were in the middle of what felt like the busiest restaurant in the world.

"alright, alright, i'll wait till we finish our food, then it's back to my place deal?"

you nod, and then before you know it, the waiter comes back.

"let me know if you guys need anything else! i'll be right over there"

they point to the bar and exit the booth section.

steve quickly finishes his food, pushing his plate to the other side, then looking at you while you finished the last of your food.

after you were both done, steve got the check.

"alright, you got everything?"

grabbing your drink, you get up and head towards the door, he follows quickly behind you.

upon arriving at his house, you look up at him.

"um, steve?" you look down at the floor, trying really hard to not focus on how hot he looks in the dimmed lights.

"can you- um"

he's looking directly at you now, expecting you to continue the sentence.

"i need you." you barely manage to get out after stuttering over your words a billion times.

he sits down on the bed, as do you.

"i could use my fingers again, or would you prefer my mouth this time? whichever one you want is more than fine with me"

crossing your legs, you blink at him a few times, thinking he'd just understand what you wanted.

"baby, i can't do anything if you don't tell me what you want"

"i want you to fuck me" steve hasn't ever gone all the way with you, sure he's seen you naked and pleasured you before but you hadn't ever gone further than that.

"you sure? you don't have to cutie, i'm happy with just eating you out again"

he rubs his thumb over your cheek, making you smile.

"no, i really want it."

you bring his hand away from your face and hold it, making eye contact with him.

"shit baby, okay lemme go get the camera"

it was a little thing he liked to do, taking photos of you after he'd just fucked you so good you could barely breathe.

he kept all the pictures in a box under his bed, and obviously they had accumulated over time, causing the box to be filled to the brim.

he came back, placing the camera on the nightstand for later.

[starsstuddedsky]

Tangled in Love

vernon x reader

summary: there's nothing in the world that vernon loves more than cats. at least, that's what you think

genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst, non-idol!au, uni au, f2L, idiots to lovers, fake dating if you squint, technically university au

warnings: none!

wc: 3.8k

a/n: started this a WHILE ago and finished it like a month ago but i wanted to let it sit lol,,, may or may not have been the other option for the poll i put out and then i may or may not have forgotten to post.... anyways i am working for literally the whole summer until school starts again so i can't promise i'll be writing a whole bunch </3 so basically: enjoy bc idk when anything else will come lol (not going on official hiatus though!! just like... limbo) pls pls feel free to drop in anytime and chat!! also requests are open but again,, i'll write when i write lol

tldr: adulting sucks, i love you all, none of this has to do with the actual story lol

Vernon’s car sits in your driveway. The sight of his little red sedan evokes a strong sense of familiarity, almost as if it’s yours. It’s survived high school and his first three years of college, up till now, though the engine sometimes shakes the car a little too much and the air conditioning chooses to work less often than you would prefer. Still, the one time Vernon mentioned getting a new car, you nearly cried, so you don’t let yourself complain too much. 

He waits for you, keys in hand, as you tug on your shoes and sprint out the door with a shout of goodbye to your parents. Your shoes nearly slip off because you didn’t put them on all the way and they’re still untied when you make it to the front seat, slamming the door shut behind you and pulling on your seatbelt. 

“You didn’t have to rush,” Vernon says, barely sparing a glance at you. You do a supreme job pretending it doesn’t bother you. 

“Yeah, but my dad is watching hockey,” you say. Though it’s been years since Vernon has been to your house for a “play date,” you know the memory of your father yelling at the television as if the players can hear him isn’t one that Vernon (or anyone for that matter) can forget easily. 

“You know if you move out, you don’t have to hear them,” he says, finally glancing at you before turning his head to watch the road as he backs down the driveway. 

“If I move out, I also have to pay my bills on my own,” you say. 

“You have three job offers and you haven’t even graduated yet,” Vernon says. “Of all our friends, you are the most financially stable, so don’t you dare try that argument on me.” This debate has been going on ever since Vernon announced he was moving out; two years in the dorms on campus proved more than enough for him. 

You don’t understand why he’s so insistent about you moving out. Sure you complain about your parents occasionally but not enough to really matter, and he knows how grateful you are that they’ve let you stay in your childhood room and rarely let you pay for anything. 

So why? You set your eyes on him, with his annoyingly perfect features that you’ve known most of your life. He studies the road, indifferent to your glare and undistracted. 

That’s the Vernon you know: focused on the moment, and never noticing you. You know how pitiful you sound, pining for someone for so long who has never once spared you a second look. Still, before everything else, he’s your friend, your best friend. You won’t ruin that just because you caught feelings. 

“Why are we going an hour away again?” You ask, resting your back against the cushioned seats and turning your head to the window to watch the scenery pass by. It’s easier to avoid thinking about those feelings when you aren’t staring at him. 

“Because the people running the rescue needed a volunteer to pick up the kittens.” 

“And why am I here?” 

“So I don’t get kidnapped or murdered,” Vernon says nonchalantly. 

“How am I going to prevent you from getting kidnapped or murdered?” 

“Strength in numbers?” He takes his eyes off the road for half a second to flash a smile at you. 

You rolled your eyes, plugging your phone into the aux. “You should have asked Jihoon. Between his gym obsession and unbridled rage, the nonexistent potential kidnappers-murderers would never stand a chance.” 

“And he has good taste in music. Bump,” he says, bracing his arm in front of you as he hit a particularly large pothole. He drops his arm as soon as the car stops shaking and you ignore the urge to catch his hand in yours. 

“He does not, and you better not be implying I have bad taste!” You dig through your playlists, trying to find the Vernon-approved one. 

“I was implying but now I’ll outright say it.” 

“His playlist is just Bruno Mars and Harry Styles and one random Ariana Grande song.” You hold up the shared playlist for good measure. Vernon ignores you, refusing to take his eyes off the road. 

“Okay, not good taste, but better than yours.” 

“What is wrong with my taste in music?” 

“No comment.” 

“How have we been friends this long?” You ask. You can’t quite say it with a straight face; the idea of not having Vernon in your life is an absurdity you can’t imagine. 

“By the way, you need to give directions,” Vernon says. “I sent you the address last week.” 

You shake your head but dig through the messages to find the address, putting Jihoon’s playlist on to prove your point. Vernon pretends not to care, singing along to “Leave the Door Open,” as if he didn’t make fun of Jihoon a week ago because he played the song on repeat during his four hour shift at the cafe. 

When you’re being honest with yourself, you know you want more than riding in Vernon’s front seat and making pointless jokes. More than once, you’ve imagined what it’s like to go home with him and stay there, to wake up in his bed because you share it with him, instead of the times you drank too much and he slept on the couch (because of course Vernon is the type of person to give up his bed for his friend). Moments like that make it harder to remember that he doesn’t feel the same way. 

You were doing a great job of paying attention until the second half hour, when you got stuck in standstill traffic. In your mind, only a few minutes pass, but suddenly Vernon shakes your shoulder and your heart shoots bolts of adrenaline into your veins to wake you up. 

“We’re here,” he says softly. He holds your phone with the directions still open. The engine shakes the car; he must have literally just stopped. It takes a couple moments to remember that he drove you into the middle of nowhere to pick up some kittens to foster them (another bullet point in the ever growing list of why you love Vernon: he does absolutely insane things for what he loves. What would it be like to be the person he loves?). He stares at you for a moment and for some godforsaken reason, you think he’s going to kiss you. 

He points to the corner of your lips. “You drooled.” He laughs at your groan, turning in his seat and cutting the engine, tossing your phone into your lap. 

The door creaks when you pull on the handle but it swings open. You are extra careful when you swing it shut, being as gentle as possible. Vernon raises his eyebrows but doesn’t comment on it. You stretch until your back finally pops, jogging to catch up with Vernon who didn’t wait for you, striding up the smooth driveway. 

Warm pastel yellow greets you, a cute door that matches the array of flowers on the front porch perfectly. Vernon sneezes and presses the doorbell, stepping back to wait, shoulder pressing against yours. Even though his jean jacket and your cotton t-shirt separate you from really touching him, you feel a different sort of warm, a tingly feeling that spreads from your insides and makes you feel giddy. 

After a couple minutes, the door opens, revealing a smiling woman and a child that can’t be more than five clinging to her leg. “You must be the fosters! Sorry, it’s a little hectic today, but come on in!” She ushers you in, picking up the child. 

Some psychopath. You glance at Vernon but he turns his back on you, following the woman down the hall to a closed door. Whatever, it’s not like he needs to see you to know the jokes you make. 

“We’ve been keeping them away from the rest of the house since it gets so chaotic,” she says. “I’d love to keep them but we’ve got two toddlers and a hyperactive dog.” She sounds genuinely regretful, which you understand as soon as you step over the baby gate and into the room. It looks like it was a spare bedroom (you can’t help but think it’s for the children when they get too big to share a room), but the bed has been stripped and there isn’t any other furniture. In the middle of the room, in a nest of blankets, a grown cat sits and licks tiny balls of fur that mewl softly in protest. The black cat pauses in her grooming, studying you and Vernon while the woman and her child watch from the door. 

“Do you want to tell the lovely couple what we named them?” She asks the child. 

You freeze. Did she just call you a couple? “We’re not–” Vernon stops you with a hand on your arm, sitting cross legged on the ground and facing the woman and her child. 

“The momma is Pinky,” the child mumbles, barely audible. “‘Cause she has really pink feet.” 

You smile at her, though you’re still reeling from Vernon’s hand, which slips from your arm to interlace his fingers with yours. “Did you name her?” 

The child grins. “Yeah! But my brother named the babies.” She pouts. 

“I think Pinky is a great name,” you say. Vernon grunts in agreement. Pinky stands and wanders slowly toward Vernon’s hand (the one not holding yours), which he holds outstretched while looking away. Looking at you. You get to see the exact moment Pinky brushes her head against his fingers, watch the corners of his mouth creep up in satisfaction, watch his eyes slip away from yours as he strokes her head. She lets off a low rumble as she purrs, brushing her whole body against his foot before leaving him to study you. 

You’ve never thought of yourself as a cat-person or a dog-person (you love them all the same), but a life-time as Vernon’s best friend (and an abundance of cat cafes) have trained you in how to get cat’s to befriend you. You let Pinky move however she wants, hyper aware of Vernon’s hand squeezing yours once before letting go. 

He shifts to look at the kittens, earning a wary glance from Pinky. She watches him for a moment before turning back to you, brushing against your hand and eventually turning her back on you, purring like the engine of Vernon’s car the entire time. 

“What’s this one called?” Vernon asks, pointing to the orange colored kitten. 

“That’s Muffin, Momma named her,” the child explains. She stands at the baby gate alone, her mother off somewhere getting all of their supplies so that you and Vernon can leave with them. Her little fingers curl around the metal. “The black one is Fried and the white one is Egg. That’s what my brother named them.” 

Vernon nods, smiling over the tiny kittens. Pinky finally decides she doesn’t want him quite so close, leaving your side to place herself between him and the kittens. He laughs, sliding back to sit next to you. 

“There’s no way you don’t end up adopting at least one of them,” you whisper. 

“I have self-control.” 

“Wanna bet?” 

Vernon turns to look at you except he’s much too close, nose just barely brushing against yours. It takes all of your willpower not to glance at his lips, infinitely harder when you realize you can feel his breath on your lips. Would he kiss you back? You push that fantasy away immediately: it’s Vernon. He’d push you away and call you weird, or do that judgy-eyebrow-wiggle-thing that he reserves only for special occasions (most recently used when Soonyoung was talking about a hookup gone wrong). You’ve always been the one he looks at when someone does something weird; what would he do if it was you being weird? Your stomach turns, the butterflies eating each other alive. You can’t do that to him, no matter how perfect his lips are. 

You jump at the sound of someone clearing their throat. You turn back to the door to see the woman holding a cat carrier doing her best not to smile. 

“Not trying to rush you two, but the sooner they settle into a nice loving home, the better,” she says, winking at ‘loving.’ You really should correct her. Actually, Vernon should correct her. He always does, the very few times that you have been mistaken as a couple. He never hesitates, so why isn’t he doing it now? Does he really not realize what she’s implying? 

He stands up, turning to face you and extending his hands to pull you up. You roll your eyes but take them anyway, ignoring the way your heart sinks when he lets go this time. He takes the carrier and gently picks up the kittens, blankets and all, and tucks them inside. Pinky follows immediately after, as if she couldn’t bear to be away from her children for more than a second. 

“I have a box ready by the door with their food, and toys, and other supplies, and I know you said you have a litter box and you’re ready, but I just wanted to make sure that they settle in nice, and I added a blanket in case they’re homesick, and–” She pauses, peering at the dark holes of the carrier as if she can see the little kittens inside. She takes a deep breath, picking up her child again, stepping to the side so that you and Vernon can leave the room. “I know you two will take good care of them, I do, I just– I’m going to miss them.” 

“Me too,” her child says, clinging to her mother’s neck. 

The woman smiles. “But we said our goodbyes already, and they’re going to be so happy with these two, right?” 

“Of course,” you say when Vernon doesn’t answer. “He’s been obsessed with cats since he was smaller than you!” You wink at the child, who giggles. 

You pick up the box at the door, grunting at the heaviness. 

“We can switch,” Vernon says softly but you shake your head. 

“It’s just to the car, it’s fine.” Vernon looks like he’s going to argue more, but finally he steps onto the front porch, moving as gently as possible, trying to disturb the precious cargo as little as possible. 

“Thank you so much again,” the woman says, setting her child down. “We really do wish we could keep them, but it makes me happy knowing that someone capable will be taking care of them, especially an adorable couple like the two of you. Do keep me updated on their adoptions.” 

You force a smile and choke out a “thank you,” following Vernon mindlessly down the driveway after she closes the door.

Adorable couple, were her exact words and Vernon said nothing. Why? The word hangs on your tongue, threatening to spill out if you so much as open your mouth. You watch as Vernon sets the carrier in the backseat, then takes the box out of your arms and places it on the floor. You force yourself to move to the passenger side when he raises his eyebrows at you, but once you’re sitting down and the seatbelt is across your chest, you’re frozen again. 

Vernon takes your phone when you don’t move, putting in your passcode (the sum of his birthday and yours). He pulls up his own playlist, a collection of hyperpop and indie artists that you normally enjoy listening to. Today it takes all your concentration not to burst. 

You almost make it the whole drive, all the way to his block, the apartment building he’s spent the last year and a half in that’s become far too familiar to you. How much time have you wasted away on the floor of his living room, drinking, doing classwork, listening to him talk about the future, rambling to him about the midnight thoughts that threaten your heart? He knows everything about you, except what you need him to know the most. 

When the question begins to burn in your heart, you can’t hold it anymore. Vernon pulls into his parking spot and it falls from your lips before you realize it. “Why?” 

He has the audacity to feign ignorance, blinking at you before finally asking, “Why what?” 

“Why did you let her think we are a couple?” 

One of the kittens mewls in the silence, a soft cry for help, sounding pitifully like your own heart. 

Vernon stares ahead of him at the concrete wall, the fading red number 19 that designates this spot as his. Just say something, your heart begs him. Stop giving me hope where there is none. His shoulders rise in the tiniest shrug. “I guess I was just curious.” 

“Of what?” 

He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He glances at you, just once. “What it would be like.” He sighs. “This really isn’t the time for this conversation.” 

Your grip on the door handle is so tight your knuckles are white. So desperately, you want to believe he’s trying to say what you think he’s saying but you refuse to give yourself hope unless it’s real. “What conversation?” 

“Okay, for the record, I did think this through,” he says, “a lot. Like, for months. This isn’t coming out of nowhere, I really did try to figure out if it’s just a passing thing because the last thing I want is for things between us to be weird because you’re my best friend and I tried to imagine my life without you and that was worse than anything, so I decided I wouldn’t ruin anything except I can’t stop thinking about–”

“Vernon.” 

He pauses, turning to face you again and this time he doesn’t look away. You’ve never felt self-conscious under his gaze, not when he’s seen every awkward stage of your life and stuck with you anyways. His eyes have always been familiar to you, an oasis of comfort that you always find yourself drifting toward. But the longer he stares at you, the more you want to run away, hide from the heartbreak you see in his eyes. 

“I think I like you,” he says. “No. I do. Like, as in more than a friend. God, none of these words are working.” 

You stare at him. He’s saying everything you want him to say. He’s saying he likes you. Why can’t you move? 

Vernon runs a hand through his hair, and sighs. “Like I said, I don’t want to ruin things between us, you're still my best friend first. But I’m also sure about how I feel and I don’t want to keep it from you any longer. I can’t stay in this limbo of holding onto something that doesn’t exist, so, I’m really sorry.” 

“Sorry?” You repeat, frowning. “Why are you sorry?” 

“Because… I like you. And that ruins… this.” He gestures between you and him and that’s when you finally realize that he doesn’t know. 

“You dumbass,” you say, “I like you, too.” 

Vernon frowns, mouth hanging open a little, and you have to wonder if you looked this goofy when he was talking. Your heart swells when you realize you’re the reason for it. “You do?” 

“Yes,” you say, grabbing his hand. Your cheeks ache a little, and you realize that you’re smiling wider than you ever have before. You’ve never been this happy, not when you graduated high school, not when you and Vernon found out you got into the same college, not when you got a perfect score on that notoriously impossible chemistry final. “Vernon, I am an idiot that always thought you didn’t feel the way I did so I did everything I could to hide it. But I like you, I really, really do, and I’m sorry I never let it show.” There’s another word for how you feel, but you aren’t quite brave enough to use it yet, even if it’s what you really mean to say. 

Vernon leans closer, pressing his forehead against yours. “We really are dumb, huh?” 

“I can already hear Jihoon’s gloating.”

“He’s been nagging you too?” Vernon groans softly but the smile never leaves his lips. “He’s going to be insufferable.” 

You’ve grown used to silences with Vernon. Sometimes they are painful, like when he tells a joke and only you laugh. Usually they’re peaceful, comfortable silences that can only exist between two people that have nothing left to say but stay together anyways. But this silence is heavy, a weight on your shoulders pushing you to do something, move closer. You’ve known him your whole life but this is foreign territory. 

His breath kisses your lips again and this time you have the bravery to lean forward, just a little. His lips are soft, bottom lip chapped a little more than the top but it is warm and it feels like a first and thousandth at the same time, like unlocking the door to a house you know you’ll spend the rest of your life in. Your mind floats farther and farther away, in some place of impossible happiness that can’t quite believe that this is real. 

A soft cry from somewhere to your left brings you back to earth. You pull away at the same time he does, glancing at the backseat. Right. The kittens. You glance at Vernon, whose mouth is still a little open, eyes wide and flustered. It makes you want to kiss him all over again but you settle for laughing. 

“I guess we should go inside,” he says, leaning away from you though he doesn’t turn his back yet. 

“We should get them settled,” you say, glancing at the carrier again. 

Vernon nods, opening his door and grabbing the heavy box, pausing by the entrance to the building to wait for you to grab the carrier. Silence falls again as you ride the elevator up but you’re more than familiar with it. 

It doesn’t take long to settle Pinky and the kittens, not when Vernon already had a room set up for them. He figures there’s been enough stress for the day and they should get some peace and space to relax, so you stretch out on the couch, taking your usual corner. Vernon sits next to you, the inch of space separating you feeling like a mile. 

Vernon glances at you, chewing on his lip before asking, “You’ll stay?” 

“Always.” 

The grin that splits his face has you swooning all over again, so when he throws an arm over your shoulder, leaning into your side, your brain fully stops functioning. You have to will thoughts into existence, which is silly because it’s Vernon and he’s done this a million times. But when you tuck your head onto his shoulder and he kisses the top of this head, you know everything is different. And exactly how you want it. 

“You’re definitely going to adopt Fried,” you say. 

His laughter bounces you. “No way.” 

“It’s Fried or Muffin. You can’t handle their cuteness, I saw you baby talking at them.” 

“I'll stay strong.” 

“What if I want a kitten?” 

Vernon doesn’t hesitate. “Egg is pretty cute.” 

“Sucker.” 

“Only for you.” 

thank you for reading <3

[yourgentlegirlfriend]

Bro, infinite darkness Leon is plaguing my mind I’m being so fr rn. So my req is like DomInfiniteDarkness!Leon and like this reader who rlly sarcastic and bites back and shit like that and the plot is (porn 🫶 obvi) that he asks reader to ride his face (after a few days of sexual tension) and like she’s taken aback at first but then she’s like ‘he’s hot tho’ (not rlly I can’t think of a better response, u can choose) so she rides his face yeah, and he has this grip on her thighs that she can’t even try squirming away

And omg, there should be like this one part when he’s eating her and like she grips his hair and he goes feral and sucks harshly as a motion to continue the grip on his hair, also the stubble that he has should like graze her poussay and like she clenches bc of it and Leon notices 😮‍💨🤭🤭

Leon just gives pussy-eater vibes, is it jus me? 😭 anyways in not asking this anonymously bc I need this shit so bad

If u wrote anything similar, I’m sorry 😭 😭

Tyyyy ♥️♥️♥️🫶🫶🫶🫶

( I had to, he’s so fine)

ID Leon is a plague in my mind he never goes away. I was actually writing a request super similar to this so i hope the other person who requested this sees this!! I honestly don’t think it’s that good but i try my hardest FOR YOU GUYS. I made the reader plus size deal with it and if you hate it so much just block it out with your mind okay because i needed to write a lil something for me in this one. Sorry i haven’t been posting much writing i hit little blocks sometimes and feel like my writing sucks but nothing a little sleep couldn’t fix!

Disclaimer!!! This blog is 18+ only! If you are underaged please don’t interact with my posts thank you!!

mentions of afab slighty plus size reader x ID Leon!!

Warnings: Angsty kinda! Mentions of yelling, holding guns and close to death experiences. Leon forces reader to sit on his face, he’s kinda rough with her

word count: 2,826

Heavy. Your arm hanging from the metal that had been broken not even seconds before. Though you and Leon had far to many disagreements he was still your partner. Just the way his head tilted up and his hand gripped at your wrist you knew he was so angry that you would throw yourself so close to death just to save him. The metal beneath you made a loud creaking noise as you gripped at Leon's hand, your other arm folding over to pull him up onto the platform with you.

“You have a death wish?”

Leon yelled as he tried to carefully crawl up next to you as you let go of his arm. You leaned back on your arms, catching your breath, your eyes followed Leon standing up, his hand reaching down to help you off the floor.

“That must’ve really bruised your ego huh, kennedy.”

Mascara caked a bit under your eyes due to all the running and the tank of water exploding all over you. Your hips swayed side to side as you put your hand up waving goodbye to Leon, yelling something about how you’d see him next week.

——-

Leon’s jaw tightened watching your hips sway, the way your soaked shirt clung to your body. You were his rookie once, he trained you from the ground up. Once your promotion hit you never let Leon talk down to you again, and he hated it. Snarky comments about his aim, about the way he talks, how he looks in his suits.

His body screamed at him for relief, preferably whiskey. The bar was quiet and he couldn’t help but thank the god he didn’t necessarily believe in. His fingers traced over the rim of his glass in front of him. The man had too much trauma, a troubling past and current that just weighed on him so heavily that it made everything he does difficult.

“I knew I’d find you here.”

Your silky voice snapped him from his day dreaming, his chin tilting down as his eyes traced every dip and curve of your body before he brought the glass to his lips, the liquid stinging his throat as he tilted the glass against his mouth. You wore that pretty black dress you had been wearing back in Grahamas office, but of course you had to change when actual shit started to go down. It hugs your hips and thighs so good, your plush legs crossing over each other as you sat down staring at your partner.

“You okay?”

For once you seemed genuinely concerned for him, Leon’s head nodding as the bartender poured more whiskey into his glass. Your delicate hand reaching forward and pulling the glass from him. Leon sighed turning himself to you in full, his hands reaching down to unbutton his jacket that held it to his center.

“What.”

A smirk quickly grew on your lips as you took HIS whiskey down your throat, your nose scrunching as you pushed the glass back to him. He was so tired of your bratty demeanor, it’s so unprofessional, so unclassy. Your hands reached out to fix the collar of his white button down as you still processed the burn of the alcohol.

“I worry about you sometimes.. Anyways, I was looking for you then Claire told me you were rambling about desperately needing a drink.”

Leon couldn’t help but admire the way your hands moved when you spoke, your eyes rolling at the mention of his small drinking problem.

“Drinking everyday is bad for your liver Leon.”

Leon groaned at your lecturing, his hands coming up to shush you.

“Fuck you..”

He grumbled, causing your mouth to drop open. Honestly you were offended. For once you were really concerned about the man which was rare from either of you because if you weren’t working, you were fighting.

“You’d like that too much, old man.”

———-

“Cmon Le.. Let's just have one more drink.”

Leon’s hands held at your waist as you stumbled into him. So while you lectured him for drinking so much you downed shots one after another right in front of him. Leon watched you ramble all night, the night he was supposed to spend for himself. After he pulled the both of you outside, you shivered pointing to your car, you hand grabbing for your keys in your purse.

“Okay bye Leon.”

You slurred as a whistle left Leon’s lips, his much taller frame coming in front of you to catch you yet again. Your hands nudged at him, trying to push him off you as you whined about it being cold and how you wanted to lay down. His hands worked at his jacket, shrugging it off and reaching for your arms and slipping it onto you.

“Stop talking and walk, let’s go, you're not driving.”

You were an idiot. Leon’s head shook in disappointment as the two of you began your walk down the street in silence. Even through your drunken fog you could see he was upset with you, your hands playing with the long sleeves of his dark blue suit jacket. He did have his moments where he got genuinely upset with you, like when you had accidentally stabbed him during training, or when you stepped in front of him and Chris during a mission to take the damage of a blown hit. You didn’t belong in this field and he had no idea how you even made it this far. He reached into his back pocket pulling his keys out before he pushed open the door, turning himself back to you.

“Inside.”

His palm rested against your lower back as you stepped inside his home, your eyes adjusting to the lighting change. Leon pulled the jacket off of you and threw it on his couch before he leaned on the counter staring at you. Standing in the middle of his living room. His annoyance was making you sober, playing with your fingernails as he glared at you. His back turned to you as he pulled a glass from his cabinet, turning on his faucet to pour water into it. You flinched as he slammed it in front of you.

“Drink.”

A laugh left your lips as you reached for the glass, taking a sip. But Leon didn’t seem to find it as funny as you did, his hands resting on the beautiful marble counter.

“Lots of one word responses tonight huh.”

You asked as you finished off the glass of water, your hand rubbing your stomach. He was in his own world, it was shocking he cared as much as he did.

“Yeah, goodnight.”

Leon mumbled as he pulled the glass into his sink, pointing to the blankets on the couch. Watching his figure walk down the hall made your skin crawl. You wanted to tell him how scared you were today, how you almost lost him. How he didn’t notice the bruise on your right shoulder from almost breaking your shoulder saving him.

————

A loud thump of a pillow hitting your face shook you from your sleep, your hand reaching for your gun as you sat up.

“Oh calm down. Let’s go Grahams called.”

Leon spoke as he handed you your shoes. You yawned, pushing your heels on before running out the door after him. It’s your favorite time of day, even though you have a violent hangover and it feels like you are going to puke with every step you take trying to catch up to Leon. Out of breath finally walking beside him you push your neck forward, nodding with that stupid smug look on your face that Leon hated.

“You clean up really nice Leon, what straightener do you use?”

How could you be so bitchy at eight in the morning, Leon’s eyes rolled, his lips pressed together as he got into his car, you not falling too short behind. Out of all the people in the department he didn’t understand how he ended up with you as his partner.

——-

“What?”

Leon stood next to you, him and the president sharing a glance as he sighed.

“Listen, Leon told me what happened yesterday and we decided collectively it would be best for you to go work for another agency.”

Your jaw grew tight, it felt like your teeth were being grinded down and your cheeks were flushed a deep red in anger. Your head snapped to Leon, your eyes squinting at him. How could he file a complaint about you saving his life? He is lying directly to the source but you had no proof he was lying which is what made the situation so much worse.

“Fuck you.”

Your words smacked Leon in the face, your body purposely shoving into his shoulder- and hard too. The sound of your heels clicking filled the hallway, your anger building in your chest as you stormed out the back door. This was your life purpose, being an agent. When your younger brother had died at the hands of Umbrella you tried working your way up to demolish it all. None of it mattered anyways because when you met Leon and Chris your life had completely changed. Even though you and Leon had too many unsolvable problems, you thought he still cared? Now you were left jobless, clueless. You looked down at your phone as it buzzed in your purse ‘Leon’ Flashing on the screen.

Stupid son a bitch.

————

Loud banging on your door woke you up, your eyes fixing on the clock on your nightstand. Three in the morning? Sitting up quickly you pulled your handgun from your dresser, tip toeing into the living room area of your flat.

“Who is it? I have a gun!”

When not at work your self defense skills were beyond poor, the banging stopped, the sounds of shuffling were heard before a small thud was heard against your door. Peering into the small eyehole of your door, there stood Leon. His eyes squeezed shut as he rested his palm against your door, you immediately swung the door open causing Leon to fix at his posture.

“Jesus christ Leon, what the fuck?”

Leon’s body pushed into your flat, slamming the door behind him. His hands grabbed at the gun in your hand, laying it on your counter. Your lower back smacked against your couch as he towered over you, his hands reaching down to hold at your face before his lips smacked into yours. No alcohol? Leons teeth nipped at your lip, pulling a low moan from you before you put your hands out pushing him away from you

“What are you doing?”

Leon’s chest heaved as he stared at you, you still looked so sleepy, your pretty nightgown resting so beautifully on your thighs. Your hair was a mess and now your lips were all puffy, he couldn’t fucking stand you. Leon’s hand ruffled through his hair as he looked down the hall to your room, your bed sheets a mess. Leon’s hand gripped your upper arm, walking down the hallway with you in his hands.

“Leon! Stop! Look at me”

Pretending you didn’t like the way he touched you was a joke, and you knew Leon could tell just by the way you reacted to his touch. A whine spilled from your lips as he shoved you down onto your silk sheets, your fingers reaching down to fix your nightgown that had flown up. The sound of Leon’s knees hitting the floor echoed through your ears, your upper body lifting as you watched him lick at his chapped lips. His head shook at the sight of your glistening folds in front of him, your thighs squeezing together as you stared down at the man. Stammers of protest left your lips as Leon’s fingers dug into the flesh of your meaty thighs, of course he was strong but you didn’t know he was this strong. A deep groan emitted from his chest as he lifted his hand, his tongue running across his fingers. His eyes finally met yours, his fingers slick with his spit rubbing small circles on your clit.

“Not so much to say now, huh?”

Oh. Your heart dropped as you remembered the paperwork you had sent in placing a complaint for him. Talking about how unprofessional he was, how he drinks on the job, and stuff about his personal life in general, your lips shook as your mouth opened, a moan ripping from your throat as Leon's thick fingers pushed into you, your hand reached down grabbing at his wrist but he pushed it off to side as he rose his way up your much smaller body. His other hand gripped at the inner part of your knee, locking it beside him as he pushed his fingers into you.

“God you piss me off, Grahams was so mad at me you know? But unlike you I didn't lose my job. You had me with your little comments but I swear if you try something like this again, I will do more than fuck you stupid, Do you understand me?”

When did Leon get the capability to be so fucking mean? Your head nodded up at him, his fingers drawing from you. Leon’s head shook in disapproval as he pushed himself off you, laying down on his back.

“Sit.”

Great. Back with the one word responses. You sat up confused as your hand reached down to cover your exposed self. Your gaze shifted to Leon who looked so pretty sprawled out onto your black silk sheets. His pupils were blown with lust.

“Sit?”

Laughter came with the question as Leon tilted his head to the side to admire you tilting your head back as you laughed at yourself. His hands tugged you towards him, making you lose your balance. “fucking brat.” He mumbled as he dragged you onto of him, your body sitting on his chest.

“Sit on my face. I know you’re not stupid.”

Leon spoke up to you as he pulled your hips towards his face but you pushing yourself back made his eyebrows raise.

“Leon, I'm going to kill you..”

You sat up slightly trying to take more weight off his chest. You weren’t the skinniest but Leon knew that you were always a bit self conscious about your weight, and the amount of times he has caught you has been extremely surprising. One look down at him changed your mind, he was looking at you as if you were the only person in the word, his tongue continuously licking over his lips, you let out a shaky breath before you brought yourself forward grabbing at the headboard. Hovering over his face still too scared but Leon’s hands reached up, pushing you down onto his face.

“Leon!- oh-”

Screams of worry turned into soft cries of pleasure, Leon’s hands reaching back to cup at your ass in his hands, somehow pushing you further into him. Your eyes finally fluttered open, staring down at Leon who seemed to be enjoying much more than he should. Never did you imagine Leon’s face so deep into you, your thighs pushing against his cheeks, the scruff on his face scraping your soft skin. His eyes opened hazily, staring up at you as he pushed his tongue into you, his hands still rocking you into him.

“Leon wait!-”

You cried out as a boiling burn started to build in your stomach, your body going to crawl off of him. Leon’s arms wrap around your thighs before you’re flipped over, his thighs laying over his shoulder as he laps at your folds on long strokes. Your hands reach down, grabbing at his soft hair. Leon moans out, vibrating your entire body as he uses his fingers to hold your folds open. He’s sucking at your clit so fucking good, your hands trying to push him away as he hold you’re hips down. He could have this view forever, the way you’re crying for him and the way you taste so good in his mouth. The amount of times Leon has wanted to force you down and suck on your pretty little clit was too many to count on his hand.

“Fuck!”

Your scream could probably be heard from all the flats around you as your orgasm flashed through your body, causing tears to drip from your eyes. A cry left your throat as Leon sat up, his fingers gently rubbing small heart shapes on your clit with a big smile on his face. He looked so beautiful, your slick covering his chin and his lips swollen from sucking at your folds for so long.

“Le.. s’ too much.”

Leon shook his head as he leaned down, sloppily pressing kissing on your lips, your own taste filling your mouth before you screamed out at the feeling of Leon once again pushing his long fingers into you.

“Jus’ give me five more of those pretty.. I'm enjoying this too much.”

[unleashtheraeken]

maybe this was just me, but way back when I was in middle school and obsessed with Percy Jackson (an obsession that has come back full force in my 20s lol) I always had a strange relationship with the “reading the books” fics.

on one hand, I really loved it, one because this was back when ppl were able to post entire chapters interspersed with commentary so, when I didn’t have the books this was an easy way to read them lol.

but also because Percy himself is such a fascinating character, who, isn’t actually dumb?? I see so many people actually fall for that, but he’s not! he’s got self-esteem issues and isn’t a reliable narrator when it comes to his own virtues. But if you read closely, you see so much of how he’s exceptional at thinking outside the box and coming up with strategies on the fly. a lot of readers (and characters) assume he’s reckless as hell and gets by at times through sheer luck and skill, but that’s not it.

It just comes across that way because percy connects dots and comes up with plans but never explicitly states step by step for the reader or to his allies. but on a closer read you can see everything coming together. you might think, why doesn’t Percy share his plans with his friends in these intense situations?

I do think there are a few reasons, such as trust in his friends abilities and skills, plus in some cases years of experience fighting with these people and so thinks that they can understand what he’s going for and act accordingly, but I do also think at times it’s because often the people he fights with, he often thinks that they are really smart (and they are!) while also thinking that he ISNT. so in his mind, if he can come up with this—then chances are so can his friends.

All this to say, I really loved those fics because it allows the other characters to witness his plans take form, and also because I think it’s hilarious that probably there’s so much of his quests people don’t know about, and I think it’d be a neat way to find out.

However, I always had like, ONE major gripe with these fics. (And no hate btw to the fic writers who would write these fics! They’re all talented, it just wasn’t for me!)

On occasion, there would be a fic where the gods would read these books BEFORE any of these quests took place, and promise to change and act accordingly so that these events don’t come to pass. I always never liked those fics bc I couldn’t grasp my mind over the fact that by doing so, they would render the books (and the events that happened in them) obsolete. Percy was my special little guy so naturally I needed him to go through the horrors.

This is why I always preferred the fics where this reading stuff would happen AFTER it all went down. It was rlly hard to find any fics like that however.

BUT recently I came across one that takes place in such a way. It’s an interesting reading the books fic and it takes place AFTER the two wars.

It’s ongoing and I love it, it’s The Cruelty of the Fates: The Lightning Thief by DeadWritersSociety on ao3/ @helenofmycenea

[antianakin]

I used to love Ahsoka as a character and I thought she was a really interesting foil/parallel to Anakin but at some point I started to disconnect with her character and be all ‘huh that doesn’t seem right’ and for ages I couldn’t figure out why/what it was specifically that was bothering me that wasn’t just *gestures at post-Wrong Jedi!Ahsoka as a whole*

From airing of tcw s7 onwards and also a little before that in some (but admittedly not all) parts of rebels she just doesn’t act like a Jedi.

Like we’re clearly supposed to think that she does and she uses the Force to do things and she uses lightsabre combat and sometimes she even listens to what the Force is telling her(!) but she doesn’t act the way a Jedi would or should most of the time. She doesn’t use or express their teachings or philosophies or act in any way according to them even when she says she does* or the narrative implicitly claims that’s what she’s doing

(*when she’s around Kanan this gets a bit less notable bc she does act more Jedi-like around him and I can’t figure out whether that’s deliberate or accidental or what it’s supposed to say or mean about them both if it’s intentional)

Before that she was fun and also flawed and I think if they’d kept those roots while either showing how she’d manage to overcome/learn from those flaws or that she hadn’t managed to move past them at all but was still trying her best then she would have stayed interesting! But instead her character gets flattened and her flaws get narratively erased (while still being very much there just not acknowledged in any way and/or presented as though they’re not flaws at all) in favour as propping her up as The Best Jedi TM and making her feel like a caricature of an ideal rather than a real character.

Like I am mid-Ahsoka show right now and she doesn’t even feel like the same character! Everything that made her interesting is just gone and the narrative constantly implies that she’s right even when she very clearly is not???

Writers challenge! Accept that characters have flaws and should have flaws to make them interesting and help drive the plot rather than making them perfect bc they’re your favourite!

Yeah, I don't even mind Ahsoka growing OUT of her earlier flaws (which are primarily the same ones that Anakin was given, like impatience and overconfidence/arrogance) and into different ones that reflect her new experiences and maturity. But it also would've been great to see how those flaws she started with, the impatience/impulsivity and the overconfidence/arrogance sort-of grew WITH her.

Like the way the Wrong Jedi arc shows her refusing to trust the Council LONG before she has any reason to do so and going off on her own to try to prove her own innocence which just makes her look more guilty and pushes the Council into more of a corner while also trusting ONLY the person who ended up framing her in the first place. The way that her more childish impatience and overconfidence has sort-of grown into the more dangerous impulsiveness and arrogance in the Wrong Jedi would've been so so interesting to look at if anyone writing it had been willing to acknowledge that she was in the wrong.

And you could keep going with that in later arcs and have her still be sort-of mistrustful of authority (especially Jedi authority), inclined to believe in her own superiority of opinion, and impulsive in her judgments. That's generally what we see in season 7, especially regarding her behavior towards characters like Mace and Obi-Wan. She believes she's right ALL THE TIME and this would be FINE if the narrative actually supported the idea that she WASN'T. Ahsoka can think she's right, but the audience should understand that she isn't. That's how her flaws got portrayed in earlier seasons of TCW and why I tend to prefer them to later ones. And this would've been a great place to follow up on her comment about not trusting HERSELF. Maybe Ahsoka has sort-of wandered away from mindfulness since she left the Order and so instead of continuing to look at the mistakes she made that caused the Order to mistrust her, she just starts blaming the Jedi for everything. And when she starts making accusations at Obi-Wan, have him point out that not only is she not being fair, but she's not being HONEST, with herself or anyone else. Because truly, it's not the Jedi she doesn't trust. It's not the Council playing politics that she's afraid of. It's her own flawed judgment leading her to her own destruction.

And there's SO MUCH you could do with that moving forward into Rebels, to showcase Ahsoka's continuing struggle with trusting her own judgment and how she's grown since Order 66 and into her place as a rebel where she HAS to trust herself more, but she still doesn't entirely trust herself to be a JEDI. Perhaps her uncertainty over Anakin's fate has a part to play in that. Instead, they just made her a spy despite the fact that a LACK OF SUBTLETY was one of her major personality traits in TCW and never once was she shown doing any kind of real spy work and we don't really see her doing any in Rebels either aside from a few conversations with Hera. We have no idea how she ended up growing into that role or WHY she took on that particular role rather than something that would've fit her existing skillset better. Ahsoka's position within the Rebellion is one of the places I think they really faltered with her because it could've been utilized to genuinely help her character move forward and develop her more as a Jedi survivor. Instead, she's just kinda... there and her entire narrative tends to revolve around Anakin, a problem that persists and actually got worse with the Ahsoka show.

I don't truly mind that Ahsoka is perhaps not acting much like a Jedi, at least not all the time, because that could be a really easy way to give her a journey BACK to being more like a Jedi. Much like the Kenobi show had Obi-Wan acting very out of character and unlike a Jedi in order to have him go on a journey to reclaim that identity and become the wise Master we all know and remember, they could've done something similar with Ahsoka. Let the narrative embrace that she's not acting like a Jedi as an intentional choice so that she can move forward from there and BECOME a Jedi again. This is also an arc that Kanan himself is sort-of going on, so it would've been pretty easy to parallel them a little in Rebels if they'd been willing to represent Ahsoka as anything other than a literal angel come to earth.

The problem with the Ahsoka show is that it DOES give her flaws, but the flaws it chooses to give her are the opposite of what they should be. (This paragraph might get a bit spoilery, so if you're trying to avoid spoilers until you finish the whole show, just skip this paragraph.) Instead of showing Ahsoka as impatient/impulsive and somewhat arrogant, they show Ahsoka being too UNFEELING. Ahsoka's primary flaw in the Ahsoka show is that she's too detached because her feelings regarding Anakin's fall have apparently caused her to pull away from connecting to anybody on a deeper level or something. And they choose to show this by having her literally recite Jedi philosophy of non-attachment and have Sabine push back against it. So now it's not just that Ahsoka is too unfeeling but that she's too much like the Prequels Jedi, the BAD Jedi who FAILED. And only once she lets go of those Jedi philosophies holding her back (and instead explicitly chooses to emulate ANAKIN, the dude who let himself be consumed by selfishness and greed and betrayed everybody and threw an entire galaxy into tyranny) is she able to move forward in her relationships. Instead of recognizing that Sabine is impulsive and arrogant and letting that shine a light on Ahsoka's own flaws so that they can BOTH work on them more, it just chooses to justify Sabine's impulsivity and arrogance instead and Ahsoka needs to accept Sabine as she is and support her completely no matter what horrifically selfish bullshit she does. Moral of the story, never hold your loved ones accountable for anything they do wrong!

Long story short, I think Ahsoka was 100% at her best in her bratty teenager phase in early TCW when the narrative actually was willing to admit she HAD flaws that she had to work through and her character has been completely flattened ever since they decided to pretend she no longer has any flaws and is just always right about everything (except for when she's acting TOO MUCH like the wrong kind of Jedi).

[straw-beri-jam]

Drrr-kuramerukagari post ketsu swap au

Basically iseya/eiwajima switching places with izaya/shizuo

I’ve never really posted abt things before and this is the first time I’m attempting to write abt something in such detail, so please bear with me🥲

I want to emphasize that this is all post ketsu but prob before sh and sunset novels bc I’m literally ignoring some characters.

Iseya is shocked to find himself in a wheelchair, looks for the one person he knows and trusts, eiwajima, only to find someone slightly different, in appearance and also behavior. When they meet he looks at him like he’s grown a second head, the wheelchair shocks him too but he also wasn’t expecting izaya to just appear in front of him with no purpose. Iseya just looks at him, comments on the hair that while he does look good blonde he prefers his natural brown.

Shizuo thinks he’s playing games so he shouts and takes a step closer and they’re both shocked to see izayas body tremble. Iseya gets glimpses of the battle in his head, his mind repeating the events over and over again and he understands. They’re not together, they’re hardly even friends. They’re enemies. How he can’t even begin to understand, how he could come to hate this man? He’s so much like eiwajima, just with sharper edges.

He takes a look around people are staring and whispering, some recognize them both and think they’re gonna get into a fight. He doesn’t like hearing them talk, despite his love for people he doesn’t really want to be seen right now, not in front of him like this when everything’s so complicated but also not. He doesn’t really know what to do now. He wanted to confine in the one person he knew he could talk to, but that person doesn’t exist the way he does in his memories.

Shizuo doesn’t understand what’s going through the fleas head but he can see him thinking. He almost looks sad, which is weird because izaya would never show emotion, especially not to him.

Iseya understands their rivalry more or less because despite everything it’s still them, so he tells him that he remembers him differently but he doesnt want to hurt him. He wants to learn more about him. He doesn’t know how long he’ll stay here or even how he came here, but he knew from the start that something was different. And so if he’s gonna have to stay here it’ll be with this alternate version of eiwajima, whatever their past may have been.

Shizuo is dumbfounded but agrees bc this guy, whoever he is, seems much easier to get along w than izaya, or maybe it’s just a side of izaya he never got the chance to see. (Or maybe in the very back of his mind he’s actually still playing games w him)

After talking (he realizes that this being a lie is too much of a stretch even for izaya) he feels sad to find out that they exists somewhere and they’re together, they’re friends they talk and laugh and are happy. Iseya, he calls himself, tells him about eiwajima and how he is, what his life is like and he is so jealous of his alternate self because he really is living the life he’s wanted since he found out he had this cursed strength.

He feels this loss, that he could have had that if he tried hard enough. The voice in his head telling him that eiwajima makes iseya feel good while he put izaya in a wheelchair. Eiwajima has wooed iseya while he scared izaya away. He really wonders if he has anything in common with the guy, but he must because iseya is staring at him like he’s holding the sun.

Iseya kisses him at some point and shizuo finds he doesn’t know what he’ll do when this guy leaves because he’s really enjoying their time together.

Alternatively if it’s eiwajima switching places, he’s rather confused at the hair and doesn’t like hearing people talk abt him while he walks, it seems they have nothing nice to say and they all avoid him like he’d crush them with his glance.

Of course he seeks out iseya only find a wheelchair bound man who feels like iseya but has a very unsettling vibe. He is obviously wounded if the wheelchair wasn’t enough to go by but apart from that the man freezes at his appearance and is trembling.

He immediately realizes that they don’t share the same relationship and past he knows to be true. What’s more they not only don’t get along but things have escalated between them so far that he’s managed to traumatize the man before him.

He doesn’t know what the best course of action here is, he doesn’t want to speak for alternate him because he doesn’t quite understand the extent of their situation, but “iseya” looks at him with such hatred and demands answers that he quite frankly doesn’t have.

He decides to come clean bc he couldn’t pretend to hate him even if he tried. He explains who he is and what he actually wanted by coming here and alternate iseya is so confused. He starts ridiculing him and it does kinda piss him off but when he accidentally punches a hole through the wall in frustration and “iseya” freezes again all his anger goes away.

He tells him that he cares about him. That despite what they’ve been through here he misses iseya and wants to see him. He tells him that they’re alike in some ways and he finds them endearing and wouldn’t trade what he has w iseya for anything. That they’re happy.

Izaya looks so bitter and hates that what this fake Shizu-chan is saying actually makes him want it, he realizes that he might be jealous and gets pisses bc as if he’d be jealous. He tells fake shizu that fake him is prob just lying to him and actually hates him but he’s hiding it to use him for his own advantage, bc that’s what kind of person he is really and if they’re anything alike then that’s what’s gonna happen.

Eiwajima just gives him a sad smile (which pisses izaya off even more). He knows what the words mean, that the world he’s describing, his home, is making the other man emotional. He strongly and confidently says that iseya loves him and he knows it. It’s not possible to fake their kind of love, and he doesn’t mind being used by that man, they love eachother and that’s all that really matters.

Izaya has never hated anyone more than this man before. He’s so much worse than shizu-chan bc he doesn’t get angry, he doesn’t react to anything he just sits there, spouts all this nonsense and looks at him like he’s actually in love w him and he really doesn’t know how to get out of this situation, he doesn’t want to be here but he’s so incredibly curious abt their life. He knows this guy is telling the truth but he refuses to believe it bc it seems so dreamlike and unreal, he can’t fathom being happy as described, much less with this man.

Eiwajima wants to stay with him, despite the fact that he didn’t actually do anything to bring this man such pain he still sees the emotions swimming around in his eyes and he wants to help him. Despite the fact that it’s not his iseya, it’s still this worlds version of him and that’s enough for him to try and fix whatever they have going on, or at least help in some way. He tries to get close, as close as he’s allowed and talks about whatever he remembers from his home, all things almost always leading to iseya of course. He tries various topics hoping the other will come in at some point and they’ll have a normal conversation, as normal as it can get anyways.

Izaya eventually does, they talk like they’re friends. Izaya can’t comprehend what’s happening but he’s trying not to think about, fake Shizu-chan is interesting, he likes hearing about this world of theirs and his life there, he realizes that he’s having a casual conversation and it’s easy too he’s easy to talk to and listen to. He’s enjoying this more than he originally thought he would. He wonders if his Shizu-chan is this nice to be around when he’s not throwing things at him, which he knows is probably true, he just has never been on the receiving end of shizuo’s kindness. However this “eiwajima” he’s very charming, and he can’t seem to look away from those eyes.

Idk where this is going but yeah I just want them to find out abt their alternate lives separately and cry abt how miserable they are. Maybe they would try to find each other and start over (in a sense) after this happens so they can actually make a happy ending for themselves (or a happy new beginning)

them actually swapping places makes it hurt more since they’re inserted into this foreign world. They would both be shocked to find their supposed enemy sleeping next to them and the ppl around them liking them, I don’t think they’d ruin anything, well maybe izaya would try depending on what would happen but I don’t think he’d would want to make these ppl hate alternate him even just to spite him bc they prob wouldn’t, I mean they know what he’s like and they like him so…

shizu would be so shocked to see ppl liking him random ppl not afraid of him but wanting him around, he’d be afraid to talk to them so as not to hurt them. And then as far as their relationship goes they’d be happy but also sad that they can’t have it.

Overall it would mostly be sad (bc as it seems I love angst), heartbreaking really, to see what they could have had but weren’t as lucky as the other two. There’s a lot of reasons as to why the two of them never really got the chance to get along (which I’m not gonna get into now bc that’s a whole other story and lots of ppl have already made theories on it) but I think that seeing versions of themselves happy and well is like a slap in the face bc had their circumstances been different they could have had that, had they tried to do things differently they could have had something similar.

This has been in my head for a while (post ketsu usually is on repeat) and I really had to get it out bc it’s too much, and it turned into a whole ass essay🥲 this is the first time I’m attempting this tho so pls don’t look into it too much, it’s a mess of thoughts that I can’t quite put together. I apologize if there’s any mistakes or holes in it, it’s def ooc so yeah…

Thank u to anyone who decided to read it and made it this far! If theres anything anyone wants to add pls go right ahead I’m starving for these boys. Thanks again for reading! 🥰

[iipaibai]

Erza, Julia, Mirajane hc (NSFW) with dom!male!reader.

a/n: worked 8 hours today, working 9 hours tomorrow, yet nothing compares to the amount of time i’ll spend rereading this and smiling at being able to have the courage to post this and simultaneously suck so hard at writing for a dom male pov. #notthebrightest #slaygirlboss

*——————————————————————*

ERZAA

-erza would def be an obedient sub. like.. have you SEEN the way she shrinks back when shes speaking to someone of a higher power???

-a big plus for that requip too btw

-she would go above and beyond to make you feel the best you can-not just for you, but for her as well. like she would suck you off till you dropped. Alternate ending for pleasure doms: she’d take about 7-8 orgasms before she fainted.

-out in the day, she seems like the dom in your guys relationship. everyone even makes jokes that she pegs you. but behind closed doors is when shit gets real.

-it’s almost sad to see how much she just wants to be on her knees all the time, pleasing you.

-even you mocking her doesn’t sway her. The nastiest things you could think of still wouldn’t be enough to wake her from her cockhungry trance.

-“Titania, queen of the fairies, sucking my dick. whining all pretty and breathy just for her (daddy/master/god/etc). does she like it? hm? awww those tears in your eyes say that you do~”

-def a deepthroating queen. she doesn’t have a gag reflex bc it’s easier to survive without one

-a widely respected sorceress among EVERYONE so knowing that so many people respect her makes it all the more pathetic when she whines for you to just stop teasing and finally put it in

-can deal with monstrous size but truly prefers a smaller cock.

-she does everything for you and you alone. whether it be sucking your cock until your eyes roll into the back of your head, or letting you do whatever you wanted to her-as long as it made you feel good, she’d sacrifice herself for you, let alone your pleasure. ❤️

————————————————————————

JUVIAA

-juvia is a brat. she CAN be obedient, if you really liked it, but she doesn’t want to be.

-once you start dating her, you get a glimpse of her playful side and see that past that relatively obedient exterior, she’s actually a little disobedient and lowk a brat

-she wants to be restricted, restrained, unable to move at all. she wants to be in pain so much and be put back in her place

-she purposefully upsets you so that you get angry and pin her against the wall, nearly crushing her wrists in the process

-“you think you’re fucking funny? lets see how long you’ll stay laughing when i shut your brain off by chaining you to the bed and leaving a vibrator in while I go take a fucking nap. should we time it”

-she can last very long. VERYY long.

-do i even need to clarify that she’s a squirter?

-she loves feeling helpless, alone, terrified, and she’s definitely into predator/prey.

-your guys’ favorite activity is when you let her loose in the forest right by the Fairy Tail guild with a blindfold on. she stumbles around, trying so hard to see through it and feel her way instead of running when she suddenly feels your hands on her, whispering lowly in her ear.

“gotcha.”💙

————————————————————————

MIRAAAA

-to me, mira would be a pleasure dom. but, for the sake of this, she’ll have a pretty similar personality in bed as she does out in the world

-she isn’t exactly as obedient as Erza is behind closed doors, but she’s also nowhere near as bratty as Juvia.

-she’s a good mix of housewife and back alley street whore but instead of money it’s oz of your cum

-she’s so genuinely embarrassed about the things that turns her on because she knows that if word ever got out, it would be the end of her career at Fairy Tail. she thinks that if she ever told anyone about anything she was into, she would instantly get fired and shunned. (She’s into light choking and praise-degradation)

-not too much degradation, because just as she’s very pretty, she’s the same amount to fragile, mentally.

-but also not too much praise otherwise she feels like she’s being lied to.

-her favorite line of yours? probably the time she spilled a glass of orange juice on your limited edition “how to dominate in bedwars” in the morning after she stayed up all night, flipped out about it, tried to clean it off. But then you stood up, grabbed her hand, and pulled her into your warm body while you wrapped your arms around her and whispered softly into her ear. “it’s okay, my love. someone as beautiful as you should never have to fret about something so trivial. you’re okay, it’s okay. it’s all going to be just fine.” 🤍

[mio-nika]

Disgusting (comic) AU. Over-arching plot, characters profiles and relationship dynamic breakdown.

Plot:

Mostly based on a modmad "What if Ace Attorney Investigations: Simon Blackquill".

Post Dual Destinies, Phantom spends some time in prison (like a month). And now let's get him out (temporary), so he can sell his employers with comfort. And also pair him with Simon, because they don't hate each other enough. Phantom get's his Bobby mask because artistic continuity, if I change his face we are bordering on Original Character territory.

I'm not smart enough to write actual spy plot, so they are existing in some limbo doing something spy-like. I'm mostly here to inflict the massive amounts of psychological and emotional damage on characters and fans.

Main Protags:

Phantom - after his meltdown in court, getting shot and the conviction his brain got chopped in much finer mush. With his blood, fingerprints and face being recorded he has no way of going back to his classic "run and hide" bullshit. Doesn't like to be out and about. Prefers to be locked up in jail, since he gets solitary and full protection.

Simon - is suffering. Understands the assignment of being paired with the guy who actually knows how to run underground spy business. But still does not like it. AT ALL.

Athena - since I'm not a fan of women centric whump (it's very rarely good and I can count the good examples of it on one hand). I'm using her as a plot device and brain can opener. She's not involved in operation, bc Simon cares about her to much. But sometimes spends time with Phantom as a psychotherapist.

Relationship chemistry:

Everything is very bad. I mean. Except psycho duo, but they are kinda. A well oiled machine.

• Simon <- -> Athena - they are something that I call platonic soulmates. Two people who's lifes are so deeply intertwined, that they can never be apart. They are friends. They are siblings. They are uncle and niece. They would be together from this point to the eternity.

• Athena -> Phantom - she feels disdain towards him, but also pity. I mean:

I truly think that the therapist in her. And the saviour complex would destroy her "he killed my mom". So she kinda goes as "I would help you, but only if you yourself would try to change. Bitch you live like this".

• Phantom -> Athena - fear. I mean. She can read his mind. She can feel that he feels. She is the reason why his life was destroyed. And I'm not only talking about last trial. She made original reading from his bomb threat.

Her abilities to read his mind is probably horrifying to him, since his entire persona based on hiding. But I also think, that he would gravitate to her. She thinks he can change. She's also mentally not normal. She's a therapist. There's a lot of reasons why he can be scared, but also longing for understanding.

• Simon -> Phantom - disgust, babeey! There's probably a lot more, but this bitch does not talk to me. So I'm just observing him from the side.

• Phantom -> Simon - we went so far from good doggie woof woof, that we came back to it.

I'm calling it "fucked up backward loyalty". It's half "I has no reason to make him even more mad, we are trying to work here". And "please please please give me any type of attention". It's the same way as with Athena. Before every human interaction Phantom had for *we don't know how much* time was filtering through his role. Basically "it's my funny friend Bobby", not "it's my funny friend Phantom". So I think he got kinda. Lonely. Not even lonely, more like deep social dissociation. Simon hates him, but he hates HIM, SPECIFICALLY, not Bobby. And the hate is extremely powerful emotion it's almost like love.

Anyway. Local spy got his brain hard rebooted. And mistakenly imprinted on two people who hate him. WHAT CAN GO WRONG

[sorryimananti-romantic]

i read your reblog last night right before bed and i really shouldn't have because i couldn't fall asleep because of how damn giddy it had me like skjkdjjd kicking my feet with the biggest dorkiest smile on my face like this is MY WIFE FRFR we're 🤞😤🔐

i can't believe light was inspired by the absolute bread crumbs that i threw into your ask box like i had to go back and read what you could have even taken from that lmao 💀💀 what's crazy is that i remember being 🤏 so close to adding light to my favorite ateez songs (mostly bc of that yunho fancam iykyk) but yes, seonghwa is just soso made for angel fiction, it's woven in his dna.

speaking of light!seonghwa, your explanations do make much more sense now concerning his romance arc and the dynamic with reader. i'm also very prone to bad-boy-blindness so 😔😔 i can fix him frfr (reader is a scientist after all). and omg the sequel ideas, i think it'd be time to bring that betrayal arc to life. reader.. cleans up the angel with dr. choi's help and then he rids of them and all otherworldly messes they left behind once and for all. & goes public about his (and reader's) research under a heroic preface. 😈 and since the angel ended seonghwa's business by then. they can fight it out in heaven or hell, wherever they end up. everyone's happy ever after?

it's like the answer was there all along. if everything/everyone has evil and good inside of them of course there isn't one or the other to find balance with each other. only out-doing each other's evilness/goodness. 😮‍💨

you can use me anytime to yap your brains out. i love love love hearing about the behind the scenes, the process and (original) train of thought and how different our interpretations can turn out to be. i'd read it over and over again, like enrichment that gives the story more life. 🥰

still can't believe light was for me. like. huh? me? 👉👈 i caused this? and you did all the amazing work. 😭 this is one of the sweetest things anyone's ever done and you being so shy to mention it until the very end!! like skjsdfjkn i was already rolling around in bed and you had to put the cherry on top and break me 🫨🫨 is there another step after marriage because?? pls don't say divorce lmao

YOU'RE A GIFT! MOST PRECIOUS! ALL THE LOVE FOR YOU! MWAH MWAH 💖🫦 (tell me these essays we write aren't the modern way of handwritten loveletters)

○ chron 🃏

omgg stop that's exactly what happened with me when i read your reblog I SPENT AN HOUR ON IT A SOLID HOUR i did it for my wife frr 🤞😤🔐 and then i kept thinking about it and ugh readers like you make writing so worth it :'))

omg yes bruh bc i had no idea what to write next, and ever since your dazzling light reblog it got me thinking if i could write more angel fics and then you sent your preferred tropes and genres in the ask and i um cooked sth up with what i had hehe (seonghwa was the member of choice bc i hadn't written him in a while, and the title just fit so well even tho it was mostly unintentional lmao) and omg yes light is such a sweet song and yunho fancam hehe i think i know what you're talking about

bad-boy blindness is so real, me as the writer had it and then i had a few days off from writing in between and that's when clarity hit me-- that seonghwa is supposed to be the villain, the baddest. he gets no redemption, and that is his tragedy. and omg not you going strong with the betrayal arc AHAHAHA i mean... greed is a real thing. reader had it. dr. choi def has it too. he's capable of doing that heuheuheue. i don't think we could ever get a happy ever after in this fic tho 😭 we did it with hala hala we couldn't do the same thing here :')

aw that's literally so sweet of you. i mean it when i say, readers like you are genuinely what makes this site worth it and what makes me want to write and post. and honestly, talking about the process of writing a certain fic or the different interpretations of it etc makes me the happiest! it's my fav thing and i always look forward to talking about it in the reblogs, comments or anywhere (and i'm glad readers are able to pick them details or ask about it-- and you def do every time it's the best thing ever :')) thank you!)

YES. light was for you. i honestly should have tagged you (i'll tag you next time i promise) but i have to credit you for the trigger that brought this fic to life- the dazzling light reblog (which got me thinking about angels) and then the tropes/genres (which got me thinking what if seonghwa angel and angel bad) LMAO yes that was my thought process. and i'm very shy even tho i may not seem like it lmao

OMG did i break you AHAHAHAHA next step after marriage is definitely divorce (i'm about to say sth 18+ i have to stop myself but just read that rolling around in bed putting the cherry on top and breaking you line in a diff context-)

NO YOU ARE THE GIFT YOU ARE SO SOOO PRECIOUS AND THANK YOU FOR BEING YOU LOVE 💖💖 HOPE YOU HAVE A LOVELY WEEK!

[ask-moonbig]

my followers... place questions on my alter and I shall answer....

I have spread my reach from Hermitcraft onto the place my believers call... Tumblr?

the hermits of "boatem" that refer to themselves as mooners wanted to more about me so they placed slips of paper with questions onto my alter and I received them

You may call me "moon" or "moonbig", I do not have a preference. Hm? My pronouns? Oh, she/it works fine.

Stay in my good graces.

OUT OF CHARACTER INFO - DO NOT SEND ASKS BEFORE READING

everything out of character will be marked with OOC!

I am -not- connected to Hermitcraft and take everything I say as a headcanon. I am not actually the moon.

This is based on the moon from Hermitcraft season 8! I also run the @where-is-moon-big blog if you want more moon content.

You can call me Moonlover, MoonMod or just Mod and my pronouns are they/them

Fair warning, a lot of this is going to have religious undertones bc the mooners are a religion. I myself are atheist and nonreligious so if I accidentally say somthing that is inappropriate in regards to religion please tell me and I will take it down or edit.

TAGS

Answering asks: #ask moonbig and #moonbig whispers

non-ask posts: #moonbig whispers

OOC updates: #moonlover speaks

Long form non ask writings: #the moon's logbook

Any posts with art pieces: #art

The updating list of gifts that people have sent moonbig

Lore posts

Archivist: #void archive tales

Sculk: #shadowy depth tales

Moon: #moonlight tales

Spore: #mycelium feather tales

RULES

no nsfw (I'm a minor)

no spamming asks

sign anons with emojis or a name

Before sending lore asks read this post so you understand this character's lore and backstory

cursing is fine, I think it's funny. If you're a repeating anon please let me know if you are uncomfortable with me swearing to you. (I have the language of a sailor, I apologize)

Everything Moon says will be in italics like:

it's not a cult I swear

Everything I say will be normal text and marked with ooc like:

OOC: send some asks pls

All actions will be marked with <> like:

<she sighs and flicks her hair back dramatically>

thank you! I don't assume this blog will get much activity but I love asks and rp so I started this to join the community of ask blogs and to show love to my favorite hermitcraft member/hj

<3

[brighteyedbushybrowed]

Do you think you could do headcanons for the Papas and a reader who has their own band?

Aaaaa this gave me memories of when I used to write band fics 10 years ago and I felt such a wonderful sense of nostalgia bc of it so tysm for this request!!!

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐨

Primo loves that you also have a band!!

Even though he's retired now, he likes to have little writing sessions with you where you both write song lyrics

He attends as many shows as he can

Unfortunately with his age and his body being a little more frail than he'd like he can't attend every single show

Sometimes he'll sit in on your band's practice sessions and will simply watch and listen

He doesn't give any opinions or feedback unless you ask him to as he doesn't want to overstep

If you ever dedicate a song to him during a performance, get ready for a very emotional Primo afterwards

He buys all your albums, both on CD and vinyl, as well as t-shirts and merch for the siblings at the abbey so that they can support you too

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨

There's a little bit of playful rivalry between the two of you

This was especially prevalent when he was Papa

It was never a serious rivalry. It was a silly but fun one that pushed the two of you to be the best you could be

Now that he's no longer Papa, Secondo will frequently attend your shows

Absolutely will pay extra to buy VIP tickets so that he can meet you backstage rather than using his influence to get what he wants

Wants to feature on one of your songs but he also doesn't want you to feel like he's trying to insert himself in your professional life

Anyone who tries to say that your band is only successful because of your association with Ghost will live to regret those words

Incredibly proud of you and everything you do. He's even got a few framed posters of your band in his room (though he'll never admit that to anyone other than you)

𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐳𝐨

Probably met you and your band at an awards ceremony

Definitely became one of your biggest fans after he looked up your music and videos of your performances and live shows

Frequently wears your brand's merch around the abbey when he doesn't have to be dressed all smart and formal

Offers for Special to go on the road with you to act as like a spokesperson for your band like he was for Ghost before Terzo got removed from his position as Papa

You should probably expect to find him waiting for you in your hotel room after shows he attends because he always wants to congratulate you in person as himself, not with the makeup and the costumes and the persona he puts on for everyone else

Now that he's no longer Papa, he has more time to attend any awards shows with you or events you get invited to e.g. movie premieres

And let me tell you, the cameras and the paparazzi eat the two of you up every time you attend an event together

However, Terzo makes it very clear to anyone and everyone who'll listen that your success and fame is all because of the hard work you and your band put in and nothing to do with him or Ghost

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐚

You know how we're all simps for Copia and would die for him? (Work with me here if you don't feel this way)

Well that's Copia with you and your band

He doesn't write fics or make fan art because honestly he doesn't have the confidence in himself or his skills to do it

But he loves to see all the fan art that people post online of your band

Will send you links to some of his favourites because as Papa he knows how much that can boost your confidence and reassure you that your fans love you, no matter what pissy little haters hiding behind their keyboards may say

Will hum or quietly sing your band's songs while he works, even if you're in the room with him

Puts you in touch with the costume designers and stylists for the band any time your band has photoshoots or big events

Like Terzo, he will attend events with you but he prefers to let you have the spotlight. He already gets so much attention as Papa, he wants you to have your moment to shine and bask in your achievements

𝐍𝐢𝐡𝐢𝐥

I'll be honest, he gets a little jealous at first

Things didn't work out when he was the frontman of Ghost so of course he becomes envious of you and your band's success

This manifests itself a little as him being kinda snarky at first

But after a while the jealousy stops and he turns his shit around to become more supportive of you

Now he's a big supporter!!

Admires how your band have been able to be so successful where he failed in his youth

Doesn't attend shows due to his age, but he will meet you backstage at the ones closest to him to wish you luck and congratulate you before and after shows

Has vinyls of your albums in his office to listen to when he's alone

[nothums-from-tj]

Hi I’ve arrived to shove a Dakavendish theory down ur throat <3

MML spoilers if you haven’t finished it yet

Hmmmm also if you end up writing this pleeeeeeease rb w/send me the link, otherwise I’ll be writing this when I finally have the energy to do so <3

So it’s common behavior for people to be most judgmental abt what they’re most insecure about. What does Cav mostly pick apart? Being taken seriously, and being competent. Based on the alien invasion, hence seemingly the reason he went rogue, it was a huge thing that he felt he wasn’t being taken seriously, and then to think that Dakota—his only constant—thinks he’s crazy, that seemed to be a breaking point. I’m sure even with knowing about the ILD, that could’ve solidified some idea along the lines of “I can’t believe I’m so useless that Dakota had to save me that many times.” (Maybe I’m projecting. Maybe both idk it’s my post)

TigerUnknown on AO3 had this idea of Dakota requesting a partner change early into them working together, and I really like that it adds depth to their relationship in the sense that it really took some extra time to get used to one another. Even when they were first assigned partners, there was still a bit of tension despite the new understanding with one another

All that said: what if the first time Cav died was to save Dakota?

Like he spends the whole mission after that trying to prove himself to Dakota and nothing’s going as planned, Dakota’s getting annoyed/frustrated as much as he’s not showing it (not much anyway) and Cav is even more frustrated and humiliated that things are worse than they usually are. He breaks down at one point finally expressing how he’s trying so hard to be good enough and to show he’s worth something and Dakota feels horrible bc it was never meant to make him feel bad it’s just a matter of preference

Mid-breakdown or nearing the end is when he notices Dakota being in danger that he doesn’t notice either, Cav becomes human shield/pushes him out of the way, cue first Cav death

Dakota can only sit in shock at the realization of. Everything and can only attempt to process before eventually going back and saving himself and Cav, maybe even killing his past self in the process so he didn’t have to deal with that right away

Things continue on and Dakota is still struggling but suddenly he’s a bit more easygoing and reassuring, and Cav has no idea what happened bc last he knew he was about to die and Dakota was pretty distant—not exactly cold, just the way most coworkers talk to one another. Now he’s talking to him like a scared child and Cav thinks he’s patronizing him and there’s not much to convince him otherwise, but with Dakota insisting on a distraction he just goes along w it and their relationship actually builds from there

Dakota never really forgives himself for upsetting Cav as much as he did then, even if it was completely unintentional, and especially couldn’t live with himself if he let him stay dead after everything Cav shared with him