#anyway I love being pandered to

[your-ace-cousin-clover]

Pandering ass…

[uncanny-tranny]

The stereotype that aces/aros are like... unfeeling robots is probably amatonormative and maybe even acephobic/aphobic, and it isn't universal whatsoever but also... I can't beat those allegations, that's absolutely me lmao

[ultramarine-spirit]

What you said in your previous post about manhwas reflecting the thinking of Korean autoreas is so true!! it's frustrating because people analyze it with their western mentality and throw so much hate without bothering to try to understand the story. There are many things that I have noticed in the manhwa that are very different from things in the west (for example, the FL is always compared to an angel or a fairy lol) but something that caught my attention is that in the west it is It is very common that when we talk about an 'empowered woman' it is a woman who is good at physical fights, with super powers or good at using weapons with sarcastic personalitys and other things, while in manhwas (there are women like that too, of course) but something they have that the americans movies don't usually show is that the women here are very good at studying. That surprised me (and I liked it) because it is not very common to see women who work hard in the studios and enjoy it in USA movies, but they do in manhwas. One of the few movies that reflects this is legally blonde (and it's one of the best movies out there) plus I have a great love for academically validated female characters, they are literally my favorites in any story so reading that Athy really enjoyed studying made me fall more in love with her. Also when FLs have to act cute in order to survive, fans often throw so much hate at them saying they are irritating or ridiculous but they don't take the time to think that there are many ways to be a great female character without always using weapons, I have a great hatred for the term "soft fl" it seems too misogynistic to me that they are thrown down for that reason but waiting for the manhwa community to realize that is going to take a long time.

Another thing I remember is that in the novel Athy had many modern thoughts that surprised me, like when they talked a little about Korean society and I could feel a criticism of this or the things she said when some men harassed her and Jennette or when some men Men said that she would be happier married to a prince instead of being the next empress and she was very upset by her. Also when in his debut he said "one thing I learned is that boys have to look like boys and ladies look like ladies" (this stuck with me because it made me think of oversexualizing young children but maybe I'm overanalyzing it) There are many interesting things in the wmmap novel that people take out of context.

Another thing I've noticed is that in the East it's more typical to see this kind of "sunshine" girls who are sweet and cheerful, very kind, literally the kind of people that everyone loves and in manhwas they get so much hate, it's hateful. It's also not common to see this type of girls in the west and if they are, they are always hated. Ruby from How to get my husband on my side is truly one of the strongest female characters out there and is always looked down on just because she is softer compared to the other girlboss leads. Athanasia is a character who seems to be on the lookout for between these two terms but he still gets criticized for not having acted in a more "evil" way it's funny because the scene of Athy facing the nobles and then Anastascius screamed more power to me than many scenes I've seen in movies or series.

I just want to clarify that I love my villainous girls, medea and roxana are really amazing and I enjoyed women who do morally bad things, marianne, Cosette, soleia, I love them all. But I genuinely hate how they look down on 'soft fl'

The thing is, there are a lot of things in the novels/manhwas that I feel are critical or stereotypical of them that more western minded people take too much out of context and it's too frustrating, some people have a hard time understanding which does not have to be from their point of view.

sorry for all the rant lmao, i didn't mean to make it so long, it's just that this is one of my big problems with the manhwa community 😭

Have a good day!

Don't worry for the rant, anon! I think similarly to you as well.

I'm in the position that, while I live in a country that geographically and politically could be considered "the west" (what a long conversation that is lmfao), my culture doesn't perfectly align with "western" values and ideas. So when I see people sending hate towards manhwa, I notice how they often analyze them exclusively from their personal point of view and own biases, not realizing that asian media is very different from western media. I don't know if this is a problem of media literacy or it's that people think less of asian media as a whole. Hopefully it's the former.

But yes, most manhwas reflect korean values! Shocking, I know. Perhaps people get blinded by the western settings, but even if the characters "don't look" asian, they were made by an asian author, so obviously they reflect asian ideas and values. In that sense, they are asian characters. A similar discourse happens with anime and danmei/xianxia novels.

I think western readers have an easier time liking "girlboss" FLs and revenge fantasy stories because those are more common on this side of the world. But they struggle with more nuanced stories where the FL is not perfect, she does not solve everything with schemes or being a badass, is "weak", or (heaven forbid!) is able to forgive a family that hurt her in the past. This is the main criticism Athy gets, the fact that she was able to love Claude. I truly don't understand how people decide to even read WMMAP if they are so opposed to that idea, because that's the heart of WMMAP's story. Family holds a much bigger importance on the east compared to the west's individualistic idiosyncrasy, so of course most asian stories that touch the topic of family won't end in "if your family wronged you, fuck them". From where I'm from, family is also regarded as very important, so I can understand why a lot of manhwas are about rebuilding family relationships, not destroying them. And even then, you have plenty of revenge fantasies with cartoonishly evil families, so if that's what you prefer, you can read those.

Specifically korean media, it often touches topics like, generational trauma, misogyny, capitalism, etc. As you said, WMMAP addresses these things too in some way or another. I didn't think manhwa was particularly subtle as a medium (I know it's kinda ironic coming from me, but these are very simple stories, not Dostoevsky novels), but if people have trouble understanding the point of Parasite and Squid Game, then no wonder they can't pick up on these themes.

I'm not saying asian media or manhwas are above negative criticism. They have plenty of issues of their own. But if you are going to criticize something, you have to truly understand it, and reading anything disregarding cultural context or the own internal biases you may hold is at best foolish and at worst very ignorant. Western readers often have this mentality that all stories have to cater to them, when it's obvious that manhwas were made thinking of a korean public first and foremost.

(I dislike when people say Athy should have been more "evil". The whole point of her character is how her kindness and willingness to be empathetic with others and try to build honest relationships was what saved everyone. Villainesses AUs are fun, but when people truly say that Athy's character is weak because she chooses to feel love instead of hatred, because she is selfless instead of selfish- Why are you even reading WMMAP? And even then, she is far from "soft" and has plenty of "badass moments"...)

(News to me that Ruby gets hate, I thought she was the new manhwa darling. I stopped reading that series, but to me she was the best part of it by far. I think she is one of the only few good portrayals of a victim of physical abuse and ED in all manhwa. I have always disliked how those traits are just brushed aside as little things to endear the FL to the reader, but are never treated with the seriousness they deserve).

[wine-dark-soup]

playing bg3 awakes mass effect memories in me. I know the first trilogy spanned from 2008 to 2012 and that we could as well say it was prehistory in terms of gay rights and the devs probably got a lot of push back. But i really remember my (cishet) friends being like "hell yeah! Gay sex!" When in reality, i just realized it was more:

Cishet: ashley, kaidan (rebranded as bi in ME3! But why him only and not ashley, his counterpart?), tali, jack, miranda, garrus, thane, jacob (iirc), james, javik

Gay: steve (ME3 only)

Lesbian: samantha (ME3 only)

Bi: liara, kelly (treated as secondary), samara, diana (secondary iirc), ME3 kaidan

Goddamn i was really a desperate teenager starving for representation when kelly became my favorite character 😭

[sunderwight]

Much as I love the idea of PIDW being rife with terrible porn tropes and interesting (if contrived) erotic writing conventions, all actual evidence in canon would seem to indicate that apart from some sex pollen and "uh oh, the protagonist has gone into a fugue state, whatever shall calm him down?" type stuff, it was fairly vanilla.

Like, that's part of both Shen Yuan and Airplane's frustration with it, I think. It's full of sex and it's not even sex either of them enjoy the concept of. Airplane was fully just trying to pander to an audience he felt he knew and could manipulate, but not one either he nor his ultra mega hate reader were actually part of.

Not that they understood that themselves at the time.

I mean I know fandom likes to make Airplane less closeted than Shen Yuan (for a lot of reasons), which I support, but I feel like in canon at least... he didn't cotton on to Luo Binghe's change in interests at first either. It wasn't until he was watching his protagonist obsess over resurrecting Shen Qingqiu at any cost that the light started to dawn. For Shang Qinghua, also, many more years have passed since he was back in their original world. He's had more time to reconcile himself to certain ideas.

What glimpses we get of the person he was before he died, was reborn, and lived a whole other life well into adulthood, would seem to indicate that he probably wasn't much better than Shen Yuan back when he was writing.

I mean he probably was still BETTER (the bar is on the floor), like I bet he could have a fantasy featuring Mobei Jun without having an existential crisis or pretending it didn't happen, but he would have probably been like "wow I guess I've been writing so much m/f porn that I can't even enjoy it anymore and my brain had to come up with something else, anyway Mobei would make a hot chick tho, I'm gonna write one of his cousins as Binghe's next wife" and gotten on with things.

Basically I guess what I'm driving at is that it would be funny if SQQ and SQH figured they had a solid handle on the kinds of sex pollen-y porn tropes to expect from the world (mostly just the occasional fuck-or-die that missionary can cure), only for the rug to get ripped out from under them because the system incorporated a bunch of stuff from Airplane's subconscious to fill out the gaps. Not even his notes. His daydreams and fantasies.

SQQ: what the hell?! PIDW didn't even have werewolves or tentacle porn monsters!

SQH, suddenly reminded of some very specific fap sessions: right?! this is definitely weird and in no way my fault! it must be because of the genre switch!

SQQ: *suspicious*

SQH: which is your fault! you made the protagonist gay! in fact it's probably your fault that I'm gay too now!

SQQ: bullshit. what did you do. was this in a draft?!

SQH: *sweating* I can say with absolute confidence that it was not! I never wrote anything like this!

SQQ: *having a crisis now because maybe he DID accidentally cause the monsterfucker stuff and he desperately doesn't want anyone to realize that he's actually into it*

SQH: *continuing to sweat because the world is consistently manifesting content from his personal spank bank and if cucumber ever figures that out he's a dead man*

[moonstruckme]

OOOOH Can i hop on the dr!rem train?!?! I would love to see how he is with someone who just doesn’t really take care of themselves. Like if something’s hurting they just power through. But of course he’s a dr so he’d know 🤔🤔💕💕💕💕

Ofc you can! This is precisely what I need him for haha. Also, when I wrote this my foot was still really hurting and now it feels tons better, so I think writing for him is healing me! Thanks for requesting my love <3

Doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Remus looks up from his laptop when you hold a bowl of pasta up in front of him enticingly. “Aw, thanks, sweetheart,” he says, taking it from you. He’s been so caught up in his paperwork he hadn’t even heard you bustling around in the kitchen, but you’d been thoughtful enough to bring him his dinner on the couch rather than call him to the table. “You’re too good to me. I’ll be finished here in a minute.” 

“It’s no problem,” you say with a smile. “Oh, I forgot I made you tea, too. Just a second.” 

You go back towards the kitchen, and Remus thinks to go back to his laptop for the interval of your absence, but something about the way you’re moving catches his attention. You’re walking oddly, shifting an almost imperceptible amount of your weight to one side. It’s not quite a limp, but there’s a stiffness there. 

You disappear into the kitchen for half a second, and Remus watches you carefully when you return. Your strides are as quick as if nothing were amiss, but there’s definitely something bothering you. It doesn’t look like the problem is in your foot, or your knee, but maybe your hip…

You pass him the tea, and Remus takes it quickly, chiding you for holding the hot part to pass him the handle. You roll your eyes as you sit, constantly discounting what you consider to be your boyfriend’s overcaution. You never worry about yourself, Remus thinks. Everything that happens to you is secondary, of little concern compared to whatever’s going on with everyone else. You don’t watch out for yourself, and you don’t always welcome others doing it for you either. It makes being someone who loves you an occasionally worrying task. 

“How was your day, dovey?” Remus asks, shutting his laptop to enjoy the meal you’ve prepared for him. “I’ve been so focussed on work I’ve barely talked to you since I got home. How are you doing?” 

Your smile is tinged with bemusement, but they’re not such odd questions as to draw much suspicion. “Don’t worry about it, I know it’s important stuff. I’m good, honey, how are you?”

“I’m good too,” he says, twirling pasta around his fork and inhaling the steamy aroma of the herbs you’ve mixed in. “Fantastic, now.” You blush, looking down at your own bowl. “Do much walking around today?” 

Now your brows furrow, and you bring your fork to your mouth, chewing pensively. “Some,” you answer after a while. “Why do you ask?”

“I just noticed you’re walking a bit funny,” he says as casually as he can, knowing too much attention will only lead to you belittling more than you’re already inclined. “Is there something bothering you, love?”

“Oh, yeah,” you say, looking back to your bowl as though forking your pasta suddenly requires your undivided attention. “Think I twinged something in my leg earlier. It’s not bad, it’s just one of those things, you know? I’ll wake up tomorrow and it’ll be fine.” 

It takes a heap of willpower to keep Remus from rolling his eyes. That’s your go-to reaction anytime something’s bothering you: power through and hope it goes away on its own. As someone who knows better, it nettles him incessantly. “Why didn’t you say something earlier? I might be able to help.” 

“Because it’s not a big deal,” you say through a mouthful. “Anyway, you were busy.” 

“Never too busy for you,” he hums, setting down his plate to lean closer to you, and fine, he’s pandering. If making light of this is what’s going to get you to let him help, that’s what he’ll do. “Let me have a look?” he asks you sweetly.

You look at him, sucking a stray noodle into your mouth. “What, now?” 

“Sure,” he says, already moving to perch on the coffee table across from you. “Just to make sure that it’s fine and I don’t need to run to the drug store before it closes or anything.”

You sigh like you’re doing him a big favor. “Okay, but it’s really not bad. You don’t need to worry.” 

He hums noncommittally. “Straighten your leg out for me?” You do, and he takes your foot in his hand. “What part hurts, dove?” 

“Kinda, like—” You strain to lift one hip off the couch, touching the back of your thigh, “—like, all down here, ish.” 

Remus cocks his head. “Does it hurt when you flex your foot?” 

“A little,” you reply, nonchalant. 

He nods, standing. “Okay, I think I get the picture,” he says. “Lay down for me, please?”

You give him a deadpan look. “Rem, I’m just trying to eat.” 

“It’ll only take a second.” 

With an eye-roll that you make sure he sees, you set your plate down next to his on the coffee table, laying on your back. Remus sits by your feet, lifting one of your calves so he can see the back of your thigh. He runs a knuckle over the skin there, noticing it’s a bit more swollen than your other leg. “Here?” he asks you.

“Yeah.” 

Remus laughs silently at the sudden tight quality to your voice, thinking he knows the cause. He takes a detour to test his theory, migrating his touch further down until his knuckle skims the crease of your buttcheek. 

“Careful,” you murmur, tone slightly teasing. 

Remus tries and fails to suppress his grin as he forces himself back on task. “It looks like it’s your hamstring,” he says. “It’s a bit more swollen, but in a lot of cases there’ll be bruising too, and I don’t see any of that. Do you remember when you hurt it?” 

“Mhm.”

Remus decides not to question you further on that for now; he’ll lecture you on telling him these things more quickly later. “Did you hear any sort of popping noise?”

“No,” you say, sounding unsure. “I think I would’ve noticed, right?”

“You would have,” Remus reassures you, relieved. “It’s probably just a pulled muscle, then. I’m going to test it really quickly to be sure, okay?”

“Okay,” you say warily, and Remus has you flex your foot, taking your leg in both hands as he straightens it and lifts it upward. You hiss, and he stops. 

“That hurts?” 

“Yeah.” Your voice is tight again, now for the wrong reasons, and Remus lowers your leg carefully. 

“Alright, sorry.” He kisses your knee. “Well, at least it shouldn’t take too long to heal. I’ll get you an ice pack when we’re done eating, and I want you to elevate it and take ibuprofen.” 

You sit up, clearly ready for your boyfriend’s mollycoddling to be over as you grab for your bowl. “Already am,” you say with a smile that Remus supposes is meant to be reassuring. Instead, he frowns.

“Sweetheart.” He gives you an admonishing look. “You were taking painkillers for this and you weren’t going to tell me about it?” 

“Don’t be mad at me,” you say lightly. “I made you pasta.” 

Now it’s Remus who’s sighing laboriously, pressing a reluctant kiss to the side of your head. “I suppose that does make up for everything, doesn’t it?”

[inkskinned]

something that stuck with me once, way back in middle school when i was still learning how to write - my teacher said "writing shock and tragedy is easy, it's humor that's the hardest."

i have been up and down the halls of academia. i have the fancy degree and the experience in publishing. i think i paved most of my own road with the little bricks of sorrow i had stored inside of me. i know i did it mostly with works that are blisteringly lonely. i know why we write like that. it's lifesaving.

but yeah, i mean. i also know how much people think that "sad" media is the same thing as "good" media. our human desire to connect is so hard-pressed that we immediately latch onto any broken themes. the bullied kids and the tales of inspiration. people keep saying things like "glass onion" and "everything everywhere" weren't actually good. because, you know, they're. happy. or happy-ish. happy enough. and we only value art if it's grimdark-adjacent.

do you know - people still consistently whine at me that my writing would be so good if i just capitalized things. i used to flinch. i get kind of a weird, vindictive little rush these days - i get to say thank you for the comment! i have chronic pain and this is how i conserve my hands so i can write more during the day :) grammar isn't real anyway! and now they're trapped in the room with me, you know? i get to pull out my map and show them how grammar is not the same thing as good writing.

writers have this thing. we scratch at our insides, constantly, prying our lives apart into splinters. prying the splinters apart into atoms. when we combust something into poetry, we control it. it cannot hurt us if it exists outside of us rather than burning a hole through the bottom of our lungs. it's not a wonder to me that so much of what i make comes out like a death gasp. i spent a long time at the bottom. i keep going back, too. when you're down there for so long, the only thing you can exhale is fumes.

but humor is hard. humor needs timing; which i can't promise in a paragraph. i can kind-of force it through careful spacing, but i have no idea how fast you're reading these things. humor needs a somewhat awareness of your audience, when really - anybody could be looking. humor needs us to understand what the joke is, why it's a joke, and to think - ha! that is funny. in tragedy, everyone understands the metaphor of a kicked puppy. in humor, you need to introduce them to the concept of a dog.

and forget about positivity. forget about anything not made for adults explicitly. every time i see a well-made children's media piece, i feel fucking horrible for the creators. most of the time, people see children's media as being sort of "not worth" applause, even though i'm pretty sure they have to work twice as hard. i have no idea how hard it must be to not be able to have your character just say. "well, fuck." something about a message of peace or friendship or caring - for some reason, that makes the media not for adults. like, okay. i'm pretty sure my father actually, out of all of us, could use a good book on how to control his temper and talk about his feelings.

but whatever. i write a short story about my ocd, and how it's fucking killing me. it gets an award. it gets published. i write a short story about my ocd, and how i'm overcoming it, and how my days are getting lighter and starting to flourish. i keep getting ghosted. no response. it just is lacking... something.

is this it, forever? you can be an artist, okay. but the trade off is that the things you make - if they're happy? if they're joyful? people will say it's stupid and pandering. you bite your nails off. you file your teeth. you hear something inside of you breaking.

the other day in a writing group, someone i'd thought of as a friend said: "you write so much better these days! i love what you make when you'd rather be dead."

[muzanswaifu]

NSFW Alphabet ft. Yandere! Rengoku

& Afab! Darling

18+

Wanted to make more yandere Rengoku content so I did that smut alphabet thats been going around

Warnings: Smut, Suggested Non-con/Dub-con, Sex, Oral, Implied Anal, Toys, Breeding kink, ect. ect.

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-

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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Man is spent. He’s never half-assed anything, so by the end of the rut, he’s already panting hard and dripping with sweat. Honestly, the quality of the aftercare varies from day to day (and depending on his mood.) If he’s up for it, he may take the time to clean you off with a wet cloth, wipe away all the cum from your cunt and rub some ointment on any bruises or bites. But most nights are spent dripping with nut and warming his cock, clutched to his chest like a vice. He can always clean you up in the morning anyway.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Your tits.  He likes looking at them. He likes holding them. He likes feeling them. He loves sucking on them. It just makes him feel so… safe. Now if you were producing milk at the time, there would be no separating the two. But he loves the rest of your body as well, he just has a fascination with your rack specifically.

As for himself, he enjoys his own chest as well. He enjoys keeping you close to sleep on it, feeling your breath near his heart, praying that the organ can somehow coerce you to be as obsessed with him as he is you. But besides the metaphorical reasoning, he knows his pecs are soft and wants you to lay on them like a pillow.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

If he were to play that word association game and his word were to be “cum”, his immediate answer would be “cunt”. His brain is set to maximum primal instinct. If he sees your pussy, he’s gonna cum inside it, and he comes a lot. If you were under some previous assumption that he’d cum just anywhere, that’s on you, darling. If he’s gonna cum, it's gonna be in your sweet, tight, warm pussy, right where it belongs. Sure, he’ll shoot the occasional load in your mouth or ass, but he’s always scooping some up and shoving it up your snatch, pressing it into your walls and fantasizing about your egg accepting his sperm. It should be pretty obvious why.

He wants every drop locked inside of you, keeping all his little babies warm while he panders you with attention and love. If the purpose of semen is to impregnate a womb, why would he want it anywhere else? Look at the bigger picture here.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It turns him on to see you cry. He doesn’t mean to! The last thing he would ever want is for you to be upset or hurt, but something about seeing you so pathetic and vulnerable does something to him. He finds himself “accidentally” being too rough with you, “accidentally” hurting your feelings, “accidentally” neglecting you. Oh, you look so pretty when you sob, fat tears pooling down your red cheeks like drops of rain on a window. And it just winds him up all over again. He can always cheer you up afterward, right?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s not too experienced, but he’s sampled here or there. Truth be told, he wasn’t all too big on the idea of sex before you. The act itself was just to pass the time, maybe relieve some stress. He’d never met someone he’d imagined settling down with before, and that made sex a bit… disappointing. Until he met you of course. Kyojuro made sure to do some more research before he swept you away. Studies, videos, books, you name it. He didn’t really care if he was doing things right before. But, like I said before, he doesn’t half-ass anything, especially when it comes to his little darling. And considering how he can turn you into such a hot mess in a matter of minutes, it's safe to say his efforts have paid off.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl.

Kyojuro usually does the majority of the work during the deed, including remaining on top, but once every blue moon, he throws you on top and gives you a hard slap on the ass. Giddy-up bitch. Having you on top, bouncing on his cock so deeply, so slowly, it's such an intricate pleasure. Intricate as in it feels like he’s being milked like fucking cow. He feels the way your cunt squeezes him on the way up and glides so carefully back down, glazing his shaft and sucking the milk straight from his balls, begging him to unload his potent seed right where you need it. He likes to imagine your life depends on it. Doesn’t it?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s tried from time to time, but has found you don’t react very well to it. His goal was to make you more comfortable, but it was fairly obvious that the only thing that would make you “comfortable” was to avoid sex entirely, which wasn’t on the table. He wasn’t about to let you spend your days celibate and bored when he could be pleasing you as you deserved. He’ll still giggle from time to time, but he tries to be fairly serious, so he can focus on giving you attention. But he still does wish you would lighten up to make things more fun.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s fairly groomed, but his happy trail is pretty messy. Thick and coarse, you can feel the unruly hair scratch against your clit when he plows you into the bed at night, rolling his hips lazily to feel every inch of your velvety cunt and doping himself out. You have to bite your lip to keep yourself from whining, your delicate bead overwhelmed by the sensation of pain and pleasure. Blowjobs are even worse as you’re always finding yourself plucking stray pubes from your mouth, gagging at the sharp hairs. You wish he would just shave.

Does the carpet match the drapes? Absolutely.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s very… intense, is one word for it. There’s no resting periods, no breaks, just ongoing, continuous, lovemaking (fucking.) Kyojuro may need to pause every once in a while for a refractory period, he only has so much cum after all, but even then he still touches you. Sucking on your clit, maybe fingering his seed back into you. He likes to keep himself busy. As much as he tries to be romantic initially, telling you he loves you, complimenting your beauty, comforting you, he always falls back to his primal self, dirty talking, moving too rough, biting you. So swept up in the moment, his instincts do all the talking as he holds your hips down to the bed and just starts humping. There’s not much you can do during those times besides hold on for dear life and blink your tears away. But you can’t deny the effort is there. Sometimes you go to the bed for the night only to find the room littered with rose petals and candles, a naked Kyo sitting up against the headboard with his thighs spread and cock bobbing between them. You already know it’s going to be a long night.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t. The pleasure is miniscule compared to having the real thing (you), and even when you’re not with him, he still doesn’t indulge. He’s adamant that it’s wasteful, if not selfish. Why waste a good load into his hand when he can give it to you? 

But before he’d met you, he’d touched himself quite often, mostly from pent up frustrations and the constant overproduction of semen in his balls. He’d do it everywhere - in bed, in his car, in the bathroom at work - there was constant ache in his belly that grew with each hour his hand wasn’t fisting his cock. He’d never really understand back then why he was so insatiable until he’d grown to love you. After that it was quite obvious that his primal body was heavily focused on the need to breed and fuck his babies into his destined love. Even if the feeling was… less than consensual.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding, Daddy, Breeding, Praise, Marking, Breeding, Pet play, Overstimulation, Breeding… Did I say breeding yet? Kyojuro is into pretty much anything when it comes to you but these are the main ones you have to deal with. His fascinations usually fluctuate every couple of weeks, one week he may be especially gentle and kind with you as he uses only his tongue to tease and edge you until you can beg daddy to let you come, and another he may tie you up with your face buried deep into the pillows and your ass high in the air as fills you up with what feels like gallons of cum. If you’re smart enough, you may realize your own actions have an influence on what he’ll be into for the week - if you’re well-behaved and clingy, he’ll be soft and patient, wanting nothing more than to spoil his little girl, but if your… difficult, all he’s going to be in the mood for is a more torturous pleasure for you, treating you like his little cumdump that he can use all he’d like. It’s really up to you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He prefers the bedroom. Kyojuro has no problem doing it elsewhere, but his preference will always be in the comfort of your shared king-sized bed. Something about being so intimate in such a safe place feels so nice to him, and he wants you to feel safe too. He doesn’t need you getting anxious in the kitchen or on the couch that he’ll pressure you into intimacy. There will be the occasional kiss and grind, but he likes to keep it PG around the home. But the moment you even step foot into the bedroom, be it to change your clothes or grab a belonging, it's fair game. Maybe he’ll follow you in there for some alone time, maybe he won’t. It’s anyone’s guess.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Any hint of consent on your part has his body on you before you can give any objection. Smile at him? Consent. Touch him unprovoked? Consent. Make any noise of satisfaction when he’s with you? Consent. Just the thought of you needing sex and having that need fulfilled by him makes him go absolutely crazy. Psychologically, thats the only reason he feels comfortable doing anything to you - he convinces himself you always want him, vocal or not. You say no? You’re just shy. You insult him? You’re insecure. You start crying? You’re overwhelmed with happiness. He truly thinks you want him, you want his kisses, you want his touch, you want his cock. And it doesn’t help that you can’t stop yourself from coming in his grasp no matter what you do. He thinks your rebellion is just a phase. Maybe it is.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Sharing. While jealousy of another does often rile him up and lead to some hard fucks as punishment, the actual vision of you being with anyone other than him is an immediate no. Why do you think he has you locked away? He loves you of course, and the past is in the past, but as of current you belong to him, and that means your body is only for him as well. He doesn't even take pictures of you in fear that someone may wander on his phone and see them. Your body should only crave his, after all his body only craves yours! Isn't that only fair? But he does try not to be hypocritical. He lets you know of every woman in his life with no secrets, immediately cuts off the ones who try to engage with him, he even offers to let you check his phone if he thinks you are getting jealous. However, don’t go about pointing fingers either. He takes accusations of cheating very seriously. Get mad at him and say a girl at work is flirting with him? Expect to hear of her arrest on the news for tax fraud, theft, bribery, ect. - anything that has her in cuffs and tears being escorted into the back of a police car to be locked away for decades while you suffer the punishment of being forced into orgasm after orgasm until you can name 100 reasons why Kyojuro loves you and would never betray you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He enjoys both equally, but he prefers to give, for practicality’s sake. He knows blowjobs are hard for you. Even when your plush lips do manage to stretch around his thick girth, you can hardly take much in before you start gagging and choking. He still likes to watch since it’s so cute when you have to give up sucking to kiss and lick the tip while your hands do all the talking, but even then it's only an occasional pleasure. While blowjobs are every week or two, cunnilingus is everyday. He doesn’t even penetrate you until you’ve come at least once or twice on his tongue, and he even takes breaks during sex just to eat you out again. For him, it's a meal and therapeutic. Just having your ripe little nub in his mouth has all his problems melting away so he can focus on how delicious and sweet your slick is coating his tongue. And don’t even get him started on how warm and comfortable it is between your legs, some nights he even falls asleep with his head on your thigh, mid-lick up your slit with your clit pulsing under his tongue. But then again, he wouldn’t mind falling asleep with your mouth warming him either. It’s up to you really.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He usually starts off slow, tries to warm you up first and get you stretched out and needy. But it usually dissolved into him frantically rutting into you, desperate to get you fucked out enough to cling to him and beg. But he does prefer your reactions to when he goes slow. He likes how your eyebrows scrunch together and you purse your lips, how you have to take deep breaths to keep yourself composed, how your cunt gently contracts around him and gushes every time he fills you to the brim. The experience is just so much more authentic when he takes his time molding you around him and leisurely building up your orgasms. But that's not to say he doesn’t enjoy a bit of rough housing. It's usually after your umpteenth orgasm, when you’re babbling and drooling, eyes tired and lidding, that he begins increasing his pace and thrusts harder, your eyes shooting open from shock. You're already so smooth and slick from all the creampies, so it's easy to go a little harder and give less than forgiving strokes into your heat. He doesn’t get too rough, doesn’t make you bleed or bruise to an inappropriate extent, but he does prefer to leave a mark. His mark.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Meh, he’s not privy to them. Kyojuro prides himself on long ruts, and quickies don’t really fit his criteria for the correct way to make love. He thinks every session should be intimate and lengthy, prolonged enough that you’re too tired to make a fuss when he wants to cockwarm or cuddle you afterwards. Quickies aren’t bad… they just aren’t good either. He’ll always want more, and doesn't want you to feel used afterward when he hasn’t made you lose your mind with ecstasy. He does give a quick grope or caress your breasts, ass, or pussy every now and again, but that’s as far as it goes. HOWEVER - if you were to ask him for it (yes, I know, crazy) he would give you a quickie and hesitantly leave you be afterward. Of course, this scenario has never happened before… because you don’t ask.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Of course! He’ll bring home random toys, outfits, or bonds from time to time to experiment different kinks and fetishes. He’s even offered to let you do things to him! (Although you’ve never taken him up on that offer) He wants to try everything with you, just to see if he or you are into something you’ve never tried before. Given, it's not very often that he tries anything unpredictable, but he does every month or so. However, he doesn’t take any risks that would give you the opportunity to escape, per say. Tying him up is a no-no, drugging him is a no-no, giving you weapons is a no-no-no-no-no. But he will let you do anything else to him, and he certainly does whatever he wants to you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

It depends on how long it's been since your last session, how much energy he has, and what condition he’s in. But if he’s in perfect health, he can usually last around 10 rounds (cumming 10 times). Of course this number can be lower or higher depending on outside factors, but that’s the average. One day he may come once and be done for the night, another he may be so pent as to last 15+, it all depends on circumstance. Each round usually lasts for 30-45 minutes, again this may be shorter depending on depravity. As for you, you always lose count of your own orgasms no matter what.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He owns several - dildos, vibrators, plugs, you name it. He even has a couple of strap ons for you to use on him if you’d like but you’ve never indulged. He uses them on you from time to time, usually in his more adventurous phases where he wants to experiment more with your body, but he also leaves the drawer full of them available for you to use at your leisure. There are times where he’s gone longer than he would like to be and would prefer if you have toys to please yourself in his absence. He even has a replica dildo with his exact shape and size just for you to use when he’s gone. He unfortunately isn’t quite sure you even use it during those days as you’re always insistent that you don’t and would never (but much to your own horror and guilt, you do.)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He teases fairly often, as that’s his sense of humor and it gets him riled up. From his experience, that’s the best way to get you to be more active during the deed as you squirm and eventually beg for him to give you release. Luckily for you, he very easily gives in to your pleas and always gives you whatever you want right away. Whether with his words or his actions, he loves how you react to his teasings, how your face burns and your mouth falls open with frustration and embarrassment, it's so cute. Especially when he teases you physically, drawing weak circles with his tongue on your clit with a feather-like pressure that has breaking so quickly, wrapping your legs around his head and shoving him deep into your pussy to get the attention you so desperately need, but he always just smiles and tucks his tongue back behind his lips just to kiss against the crease of your lips before unwrapping himself from you and starting all over again. The only way he ever stops is if you use your words and tell him exactly what you want. He wants to hear you say it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He can get pretty damn loud. Who is he silencing himself for? You're the only person with him that will ever be with him for the rest of your lives, so why would he keep quiet when he can tell you exactly how good you make him feel? He wants to let you know just what you're doing to him, how crazy you make him feel, how obsessed he is with you. During the slow beginnings of your rounds he will keep himself down to an appropriate level, moaning and groaning softly into your ear, whispering sweet, sweet nothings and praising you, but when the storm of it all hits, he makes sure to howl in euphoria, shouting loud for the world to know that he is the one who obtained you. He whines and whimpers just as much and he grunts and growls, and, if you listen very closely, you can almost hear him purr after he nuts. And don’t worry too much about neighbors or passerbys hearing, he soundproofed the whole place long before you arrived.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Similar to the original Beauty and the Beast, he asks you to marry him constantly. While he knows it would be impossible legally since you’ve been missing for quite some time with authorities on the lookout, he more so asks for romantic purposes. He even has been planning for the event since day 1! But he’d make changes to it if that's what you wanted. Truly he just wants the role of being your husband rather than your lover, as it all comes into play for his ultimate goal of getting you pregnant. While he doesn’t enjoy you being on birth control at present, he allows it for the sake of normalcy as he finds it would be improper to have children before marriage. But if you would just say yes to his proposal that would change everything! You have yet to accept, but he’ll give you time to love him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s about 6.5 inches long soft, 8.5 inches when hard, with about a 7 inch girth (6 when soft). He’s a big boy.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Very. Very. High. There’s pretty much no limit on when he can have sex or be hard, all he needs is some… motivation. Just seeing you relaxed on the couch in your sweats when he gets home from work is enough to get his pants feeling unbearably tight, ideas flooding in about what he’s going to do to you after you both eat dinner. And dear god can he last for hours. There hasn’t ever been a single time when a session has been less than an hour, and by the end of the rut, you’re already so tired that cleaning up simply isn’t an option. For him, there is always an eternal ache in his belly from all the cum he produces, so having a good outlet (you) has done wonders for his health. It doesn’t help that his high drive has affected yours as well, making you far more horny on a daily basis than you used to be. How you aren’t dead by now is a mystery.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Pretty much right after. He uses up every ounce of energy he has during sex so by the time you're both done and covered in liquids, all he wants to do is cuddle and go to sleep. He’s out in maybe 10 minutes? You’re not really sure since you’re passed out as well.

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[moonchildstyles]

nest

harry is y/n's best friend. he also happens to be an alpha. spending a week at his place has her brain doing weird things.

cw: a/b/o dynamics! while this has no smut in it, I still heavily encourage anyone not familiar with the trope to look it up before reading ahead!

wordcount: 10.5k+

—————

(Y/N) panted as she scaled Harry's driveway with her too-heavy weekender bag hanging over her shoulder. Did she know she was overpacked for only a week long stay? Sure, but she would rather be safe than sorry, so if that meant bringing an extra five pairs of panties and three more sets of clothing than she needed, that was only being safe as far as she was concerned. What she hadn't planned for, was scaling Harry's long driveway with her bag banging against her side and her phone charger spilling out of the top and her school backpack weighing down her other side. Parking in her usual spot by the curb with shady covering provided by the leafy tree in his yard sounded perfect, until she felt her shoulders aching with the weight of her bags as she peered up the driveway. 

By now, she was sure a sheen of sweat had collected above her brow and Harry was going to kill her for exerting herself when she could have easily texted him for some help with her things. But, (Y/N) didn't want to call on him to carry her things, her was already doing too much for her. 

He was already letting her crash at his place for a week—maybe more—, so there was no reason to make him carry her textbooks and a week's worth of clothing. She'd take a little bit of a scolding instead of pandering for more help. 

Just as she climbed the porch steps, the front door swung open only to reveal the alpha of the house with a bunny-toothed grin on his features and fluffy curls framing his face. 

"(Y/N), h—What are you doing?" As expected, the second Harry caught sight of the sweat coating her features and heard the wheeze of her lungs, his brows furrowed and he all but rushed to join her on the short staircase. "Why didn't y'tell me y'were here?" he reprimanded her as he reached for her duffle, "And y'parked so far away. (Y/N), y'should have told me I would have helped y'carry your things in." 

"I know, I know," she said, relief flooding her system when circulation returned to her arm, "I didn't think the bag was going to be that heavy, though, I promise. And, you're already doing so much for me, it's not fair—"

"Don't go off about what's fair with me, again," he cut her off, apparently having already anticipated this conversation, "I offered to let y'stay with me, and you're not inconveniencing me in anyway, okay? The only thing that isn't fair is when y'don't let me take care of you like I promised I would." 

(Y/N) sighed as he brought up his promise again. It wasn't a new topic, but still one that made her tummy flutter every time he brought it up. 

Years ago, when they first became friends their first year of university, Harry had been around when she had gone through a particularly bruising breakup. The alpha was not who (Y/N) thought he was, and that much was only apparent after she had fallen in love with the facade he had presented. Harry had been the only one to pick up when she called sobbing in the middle of the night, needing to talk to anyone who would listen and reassure her that she hadn't just ended a relationship with the only person who would ever love her like that alpha had screamed at her. 

That night in the dark of his student dorm, Harry promised her that he would always be there to protect and take care of her. No one would be able to tamper with her self-worth ever again, or make her feel like she was a burden or hard to love—platonically or otherwise. It had been a serious promise, one that he said in the deep grumble of his alpha tone and with his eyes matching hers as he said it. 

But, now, he loved to use it as an excuse to get his way whenever she wouldn't let him do something silly like hold her duffle bag or drive her to her early morning class. While she always made a point to roll her eyes at him when he made such comments, it never failed to make her heart feel full at the reminder of his promise. 

Harry was always the one alpha who never tried to change her or push himself on her just for the fact that she was an unmated omega. He was even the driving force behind her deciding to continue her schooling towards her master's degree after graduation. So, if he wanted to scold her a little for carrying her own textbooks or parking too far away from his front door, she'd let him. It let her know he cared. 

"Sorry, dad," she sighed, a petulant tease carrying her voice, "I'll park closer next time." 

"That's what I thought," he said, pushing her with a hand on the small of her back through his front door. "And, you'll let me know when you're here, so I don't have to listen for you." 

"Whatever you say," she shook her head, laughter filling the foyer as he piled on his conditions that she knew he wouldn't do anything about if she didn't adhere to them. 

"Good," he grumbled, locking the front door behind them before he continued ushering her up the stairs. "Got the guest room all set up for you if y'want to go that way." 

Harry's house was (Y/N)'s second home after her apartment, so the layout was easy to maneuver even without his hand on her back guiding her. Still, that didn't mean she wanted him to stop. 

As expected, Harry had the guestroom set up perfectly for her, just as he always did whenever she had to sleepover at his place. The quilt he'd had in his dorm when they met was folded across the bottom of the bed, the familiar holes and frayed edges brought a smile to her face as it covered a section of the fluffy white duvet he'd bought specifically for her. There was something especially intimate about him buying her something that could so easily become the perfect base for a nest, but she knew it was only a part of his alpha instincts to give an omega something so special even if they were only friends. The rest of the room still held the potted plant she gifted him at his housewarming, sitting right in the bay window as the vining leaves draped themselves over the sill. A humidifier was stationed in the corner of the room, just beside the walk-in closet, a detail she knew he had in his own room because then he could turn it on just before bed after grabbing his pj's or turn it off in the morning after he got ready for work. The bedside table had a scented candle left with its cap off, allowing the strong scent of him to be filtered through the lens of autumn leaves and vanilla whipped cream. 

(Y/N) felt at home as she stepped over the threshold. Harry's hand on her back disappeared as he moved around her, settling her bag on her temporary bed with a bounce of the mattress. 

"Everything look good?" he asked her over his shoulder as he began to fuss over the little plant in the window. 

"Yeah, thank you. It's perfect." (Y/N) could hear the smile in her own tone, with Harry surely able to smell her happiness as it flooded the room. 

Pride lifted Harry's shoulders as he gave her a lopsided smile over his shoulder, having rotated the plant just enough so the baby leaves that just sprouted had the most sunlight. "Good, that makes me happy," he told her, his voice a quiet croon. 

It was moments like these especially that (Y/N) couldn't believe he didn't have an omega. She knew that if she had the chance and wasn't so worried about the friendship they had curated, she would be clinging to him at all times, scenting all over and pining for his mark on her neck. He was too good of an alpha and a caregiver to be on his own, she believed. 

Settling on the edge of the mattress, Harry unzipped her bag with the intention of helping her unpack just like he always did when she stayed for a little longer than a couple of days. "Has your building told y'any more about what's going on?" he asked her, pulling out her rolls of outfits from the weekender. 

"Not really," she shook her head, taking his offerings to the closet with the door open behind her, "I overhead one of my neighbours talking about bugs, though. Like, a lot of them. Enough that the foundation or structure, or whatever, of the building isn't doing great. Some people might have to get their walls knocked down, too." 

"(Y/N)," Harry sighed, absently reaching for another set of clothes to pass off, "Jus' come live with me, love. I told you that landlord wasn't right when we did that walkthrough." 

"I know, I know, H," she said, used to this conversation from the many times Harry tried to convince her to move in, "But, its close to campus and rent is low, that's all I'm looking for right now."

"What happens when your entire floor falls through because bugs have eaten through the entire structure, hm?" he pressed, raising a brow at her while he plugged in all of her chargers. 

"I'm sure my rent will be even lower then." 

"(Y/N), please," Harry tried again, not laughing at her attempt to joke, "This worries me. I don't like thinking y'live somewhere so unsafe that they're kicking you out for a week—if not more—because the building might fall apart. You know I wouldn't make y'pay rent, and I can drive y'to class every morning on m'way to work." 

Turning towards him, abandoning the hanger she was layering with clothing, (Y/N) gave Harry the same look she did when they talked about this. "You know it's not that easy, H" 

"But, aren't we close enoug—" 

"You're not my alpha, Harry. I don't want to live with anyone that isn't mine like that." 

Though she felt bad to cut him off, she knew he wasn't going to understand otherwise. Yes, they were close enough she told people he was her best friend, but he wasn't hers. He wasn't someone that scented her, kissed her, or marked her. He wasn't her alpha. 

Something ticked in Harry's jaw as he matched her eyes, the intensity making (Y/N) want to instinctively curl in on herself. "Trust me, I know," he murmured, "I jus' worry about you, (Y/N). Please at least think about it this week." 

"I can do that," she relented with a quiet nod, "I'm sorry I worry you, I don't mean to." 

Rising from his spot on the bed, Harry stood to the full of his height with his arms open for her. "Don't need to be sorry, 's not your fault 'm a worrywart," he told her once she stepped into his hug, arms cradling her shoulders while he pressed his cheek to her hair, "Jus' think about it for me. Even if y'only spend time here until y'find another place to live if your bug building gets worse." 

"I will," she promised with a sigh, stopping herself before she could tuck her nose into the curve of his neck no matter how badly her instincts were urging her to do so, "Thank you for always letting me stay here if I need it." 

"I love it when you're here with me, (Y/N), you know that. Makes me happy when all I have to do to see you is go down the hall." Though no one else was in the room—or the house, even—Harry spoke with his voice low as if he were sharing a secret only for her to hear. 

Scrunching her eyes closed, (Y/N) curled herself tighter against Harry's chest. All she wanted to do was cling to him and inhale all of him that she could, scent him so she could take that crisp warmth with her wherever she went. But, like she had just told him: he's not her alpha. If she dared to even graze her nose along his neck, it would be far too intimate an act for two people who claim to be nothing more than best friends, she knew that. 

Harry ran his hand along the plane of her back, palm warm as he skimmed over her skin through the loose knit of her sweater. "'S gonna be alright, love. Don't worry about your place, okay?" 

While that wasn't exactly what was making her tummy hurt, she wasn't going to correct him. 

—————

(Y/N)'s absolute favorite thing about waking up at Harry's place had to be the fact she was completely enveloped in his scent from the second she opened her eyes. While everything was clean and washed before she came over, the detergent and softener smell couldn't even dream to cover up the smell of everything Harry that had soaked into the fabric. Bringing the sheet up to her nose, (Y/N) indulged herself in a deep inhale of crisp apples and burnt cinnamon, deep and warm and heady. 

All alphas had their own scent, distinctly identifiable, but they all had that deep dominance in common. Nothing could completely cover it up the same way suppressants could conceal an omega or neutralizers could cover a beta. There would always be a little bit of something—a base note of dark wine, or peppery firewood—that seeped through even the strongest of concealments. And, (Y/N) loved that when it came to Harry. She knew he set up a scented candle for her every time because he didn't want to overwhelm her with the strength of his scent after going from her light omega surroundings, but she always made a point to cap it before she went to sleep on her first night. By the time she woke up, nothing could hinder the smell of him. 

The only thing that could top waking up in his scent was getting to lie in it all morning—which, since it was a Saturday, she got to do. 

She didn't know how long she soaked in the smell of him, in a half dream state as she dozed in and out of sleep with the help of his comforting scent, but by the time Harry knocked on her door, she still felt like she hadn't gotten enough of him. 

"Yeah?" she called out to him, stretching under the sheets as she tried to pry her eyes open. 

Harry carefully cracked the door open, peeking his head in with a soft smile on his face as soon as he saw her wrapped in her bedding with wild hairs framing her face. "Jus' wanted to see if y'were awake. I have some breakfast from earlier waiting for you in the microwave if y'were awake enough to come downstairs." 

"What'd you make?" (Y/N) peeped as she threw her legs over the side of the bed, feet searching for her slippers. 

"French toast and those hashbrowns y'like." 

It was the same breakfast he always made at least once for her when she stayed over. 

"And chocolate milk?" 

"And apple juice, if y'wanted something different." 

She hoped he could smell the way her heart perked up for him. He really knew her so well.

—————

"Are you sure its alright that I tagged along today?" 

The lopsided grin that molded Harry's features grew as he looked down at her for a second as he steered the shopping cart. "(Y/N), jus' because y'ask me four different times doesn't mean you're going to get a different answer." 

"I know," she sighed, rerouting herself when Harry made a quick turn into the bread aisle, "I just feel bad you're shopping for me since I'm only staying with you for a week." 

Harry shrugged, reaching for a loaf of thick bread to be placed in his trolley. "I don't mind, jus' like I've already told you. And, it might be longer, remember? We need to, at least, get a couple of things for you to take to class." 

"I'm going to pay you back for all of this, Harry," she cemented, following after him as moved an aisle down for all things pasta, "I know you're going to say no, but I am. This is more than just letting me stay with you for a little while. I wouldn't feel right if I didn't give you something for all of this." 

"Just be happy and consider what we talked about the other day, okay? That's all I want from you—nothing else, alright?" 

"But, Ha—" 

"Do you like the five cheese marinara or the basil and garlic more?" Harry cut her off, holding up two opposing jars of spaghetti sauce.

Raising an unimpressed brow, (Y/N) looked to Harry's seemingly oblivious face between the two raised jars. "Harry." 

Puckering his lips to the side, Harry turned the jars to get a look at the labels. "Yeah," he hummed, "We should try both. I haven't tried this brand yet, anyway, so I don't know which one is better for the gnocchi." 

"Harry," she tried again, a giggle seeping into her words as she followed after his slow steps down the shelves of dried pasta, "Please." 

"Nope," he popped, reaching to the highest shelf with ease as he grabbed for a package of whole-wheat linguine, "'M not listening." 

"C'mon," she tried again, stepping in front of him so he couldn't get away too easily with the cart in tow. "It's not a big deal, as soon as I get paid I'll just—" 

"No, you won't," he solidified, looking down at her with the full intensity of his green eyes, "Remember what I promised you?" 

"I can't believe you're using that against me, right now, in the middle of the pasta aisle." (Y/N) playfully puffed out her bottom lip. 

"What? Y'don't like being reminded that I like to take care of you where everyone can see you get all flustered? Is that it, (Y/N)?" 

Maybe it was the way he didn't dare pull his gaze from hers or the deep tone of voice that rumbled through his chest, but (Y/N) felt her tummy tighten as she gazed up at him. Did she get flustered when he talked about the promise? If she did, she'd never noticed before. But, it seemed Harry did. 

"I don't get flustered," she countered lamely, fluttering her lashes as she dropped her gaze, allowing him to win that game. 

"Yes you do," he sung, a tease coating his voice as he ducked his head into her line of sight, "Every time I say something, I swear your eyes get all dreamy and y'won't look at me until your butterflies stop." 

"I don't have butterflies." 

Harry shook his head then, lopsided smile and a single dimple in his cheek. "Sure, y'don't, silly. And I don't smell them on you right now, either." With that, Harry straightened his posture and grabbed for the bar of the trolley. "Now, do y'want some of those little protein packs or fruit to take with y'between classes?" 

(Y/N) watched as Harry nonchalantly started down the aisle, moving towards the wall of refrigerators while she couldn't find it in her to unlock her knees and follow after. The muscles of his back shifted under his top as he pushed the trolley, black sweats hanging low enough on his hips that if he moved just right, she was allowed a peek at the tan skin of his hip. 

Something's changed. This wasn't the first time in the last couple of days since she'd started her stay that Harry had practically flirted with her. Sure, there had always been a little something to their interactions that solely came from the fact they were sexually compatible given their classes, but this was different. It was more than the friendly teasing that had been apart of their friendship since the beginning. He was doing more, pushing more, getting closer and speaking lower, a voice she wasn't familiar with. 

It'd only been three days since she started sleeping over—longer than any of her previous weekend stays—and (Y/N) was beginning to worry about what else he was going to start picking up on if he was now noticing just how easily flustered and butterfly-filled he could make her. 

"Are y'coming, love?" Harry called to her from the end of the aisle, his brows pinched as he beckoned to her. 

Immediately, she perked up, not wanting to be left behind. "Yeah, sorry." 

"'S alright, jus' stay close, yeah?" he murmured once she was close enough, corralling an arm around her back to tug her between his chest and the handlebar of the cart, "Saw some alpha looking for a little too long and getting a little too close to you." 

"Really?" She really must have been oblivious if she didn't notice a whole other dominating presence creeping up on her.

"Mhm," Harry grumbled, his hands on either side of her flexing around the bar as he escorted them towards the snacks, "No reason for him to be getting so close, especially when you've got m'smell all over you." 

(Y/N) was grateful for the fact he only had a view of her back when a small smile plucked at the edges of her mouth. If she allowed her mind to wander, she could argue he sounded... protective over her. Like he had claimed her.

"I'll stay right here, then," she murmured, "No more wandering." 

A contented hum that verged on a soothed purr rumbled Harry's chest. "Thank you." 

—————

(Y/N) jumped as the sound of Harry's laughter pulled her from her half-asleep state. Her eyelids fluttered open with a quiet gasp, only to see a different Julia Roberts rom-com gracing the television screen than the one she remembered playing the last time she had her eyes open. Maybe she had been a little more than half-asleep. 

Making a point to sit up from the curling position she found herself in, (Y/N) shifted under the quilt that was taken from her temporary bedroom. With a short stretch, she folded her legs underneath her and pushed her back firmly against the cushions. Leaning against the back of the couch, she found Harry's arm tossed around her form, the warmth not having shown up on her radar in her sleepy daze. 

Once he realized she was awake, (Y/N) saw from the corner of her eye as he gave her a fond look before ducking his head down. With his lips hovering by her ear, he spoke as if they really were at the cinema they were pretending his living room to be, "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake y'up. I promise I was trying to be quiet." 

"I wasn't asleep, its alright," she mumbled out, clearing her voice she in hopes of living up to her facade. Running a heavy hand through her hair with a clarifying tug at the roots, (Y/N) tried her best to suss out what was happening on the T.V. If she squinted enough with the sleep in her eyes, she was somewhat sure that Mystic Pizza was playing. 

"Right, cause you knew y'were drooling on my shoulder for the last half hour, and you jus' thought it was too funny to stop," Harry countered, canting his head to the side with a nonchalant half shrug while the light from the television highlighted the side of his face. 

Eyes wide and jaw dropped, (Y/N) felt her grogginess leach from her system, warm embarrassment replacing it. 

"I didn't drool on you," she denied, her eyes drifting down to the shoulder of his shirt before flicking back to his shaded gaze, "Did I?" 

A little too smug of a smile molded his features before he shook his head. "No, but now I know you were sleeping," he teased, his grin only widened when she saw her lips puff into a pout. "'S alright if y'were asleep, love. I can turn off the movie and we can go to bed, if y'want. It's getting late, anyway." 

(Y/N) was quick to shake her head, knowing the long day Harry had and that he was taking this time to decompress. "No, no, it's okay. Let's finish this one, and then we'll see," she insisted, focusing her gaze forward, "What did I miss?" 

Though she had her eyes trained forward, watching Julia Roberts' character find her love interest in a bar, (Y/N) could feel Harry's eyes lingering on her as he made no attempt to follow the direction of her gaze. Heat traced over her profile as if he were running his fingertips over the planes of her face. The warmth danced over the bridge of her nose and bounced across her Cupid's bow though she swore he lingered over the pillows of her lips. A beat passed before she peeked over at him, the intensity of his gaze confirmed when he didn't mind matching her eyes and didn't shy away when she caught him. 

"What?" she peeped. 

Something flashed in his eyes—either it was the light from the T.V. or something else, (Y/N) didn't know, but she saw it. 

"Nothing," he murmured, voice low and purring, "C'mere." 

Slipping his arm from around her waist, he pulled the quilt that was draped over their laps to sit on his other side in a bundle. 

"Wait, wh—" 

"Lay down, love," he told her, nodding his head towards his lap, "I'll bundle y'up as soon as you're comfortable." 

A small smile tugged at (Y/N)'s lips when she realized what he was suggesting. They hadn't cuddled like this in a while, probably not since before her last relationship ended over a year ago. 

Shuffling her way over the couch, (Y/N) laid herself out on the cushions with her legs scrunched to fill out the remaining two with her head landing in Harry's lap. The full of his thighs worked as her pillow, warm and comforting with her most favorite smell of all surrounding her, right from the source. Even with the muscles cording his arms and beefing his stature, Harry was gentle as he tucked the quilt around her form, keeping her warm and cuddled up. 

"This better?" he asked her. The dark of the living room allowing only peeks and glances at his features once the scene on the television lit up enough to do so, but (Y/N) couldn't help but hope she really did see the fondness in his gaze and it wasn't just a trick of the light. 

"Yeah, thank you," she murmured, feeling her eyes grow heavy now that she was comfortable and well taken care of by an alpha. 

"Good," he smiled at her, grazing his fingertip across her brow to pull a stray hair that threatened to peek in to her line of sight, "If y'fall asleep, 's alright. I'll take y'upstairs, okay? I jus' want y'to relax, (Y/N)." 

The soothing rumble of his tone and the careful skim of his skin against hers was enough to have (Y/N) fluttering her eyes closed in contentment. "Okay, H," she responded dreamily. 

Shifting to lay on her side, (Y/N) cuddled in with her hands under her chin while Harry played with her hair in soothing motions. Though she tried to keep track of the film for as long as she could, (Y/N) didn't stand a chance with the warmth of Harry's touch skating through her hair and the comfort of his scent wafting to her nose directly from the source. The audio of the movie became background noise that helped set the tone for the nonsensical dream that was beginning to shape up behind her eyelids. 

Until Harry started purring, of course. 

That became the center of her focus then. The rumbling deep tone of his purring comforted her farther than what just the smell of him and his soft touches could do. None of her previous alphas had ever shared something so intimate with her, knowing that purring like this could feel like music to an omega like her—especially seeing as how she was fostering feelings for Harry. 

Maybe he didn't even realize he was doing it, or maybe it was the pending dream talking, but (Y/N) liked to think he wanted to share this with her.

—————

Harry rolled his neck after shifting his car into park in the garage. With his eyes closed, he let out a deep breath as he relaxed into the plush leather of his seats. This week has been excruciatingly long, and it was only Thursday. 

And, it was because of (Y/N). 

His workload was the same as always, maybe ticked up a tiny bit just because one of his team members was out for vacation, but nothing he couldn't handle. The only thing that plucked him off-kilter was his little houseguest. 

Not to say she was unpleasant to live with—quite the opposite if his badgering for her to move in with him meant anything—, but he found himself struggling more than usual around her. Harry knew since the day they met that they were compatible. Call it instincts or the fact she was so obviously an omega that balanced out the alpha in him, but Harry swore in his gut, he knew that (Y/N) was going to be special to him.

But, that had been years ago, back when she was with another alpha and had confided in Harry as a best friend. Though he never really lost that sparkle he felt for her, it was something he was able to manage, especially as it seemed she didn't feel that same glimmering affection towards him outside of being a best friend. 

These past days seemed to be putting that notion of management to the test, though. 

Harry didn't know what it was, but something shifted this time around. Maybe it was him; he knew he was toeing into territory not yet explored between them with the way he flirted with her more obviously, and tried to squeeze a cuddle in any time he could manage it. Even with that, Harry couldn't forget the way he caught her snuggling up to his sheets when he woke her most mornings for breakfast. With the scented candle he brought up for her capped and stowed away, she had her nose tucked into the sheets that had been stored in his linen closet next to his usual sets he alternated through for his own bed. He knew, that even though they were clean and unused, his scent had to have stuck to them and wiggled its way between every fiber. She was looking for him when she smelled those sheets. 

Even the other night during their impromptu movie night, (Y/N) had been the one initiating all of the snuggling until he had to corral her into settling down in his lap so she could get some actual sleep instead of knocking her head against his shoulder. When she looked up at him after he tucked the quilt around her form, he swore he saw something extra in her gaze; extra soft, extra fond, extra tender, extra trusting. He even purred for her.

Trust was as good as foreplay as far as Harry was concerned, the notion flooding his heart and calling to his more basic instincts, especially when the idea involved (Y/N). That was what had been plaguing him throughout his work days. No reprieve could even be offered when he came home, though—especially not on those days (Y/N) came home early enough from class to get dinner started with her scent trailing all around the house as she cleaned up and did bits of housework he would never expect from her. 

Still, that didn't mean he wasn't ecstatic to be coming home to her. He just didn't know how much more his heart could take before it gave out and he had to offer it up to her for repairs. 

Leaving the sanctity of his car behind, Harry came in through the garage. Though he hadn't expected (Y/N) to be back already, today being one of the days her classes ran longer than his workday, he was surprised to find the entire house soaked in her scent. More than usual. 

With brows furrowed, he stalked through the house, stopping to take a peek out the front window, (Y/N)'s car wasn't there just as he figured. Nonetheless, he couldn't ignore the way his entire house reeked with the smell of her fruity perfume though this selection was decidedly more heady and dark than what he was used to scenting from her. There wasn't even a discernible trail of where she might have been, the mass of scent having permeated through the whole space and planted itself in every inch.

Though the more basic parts of him were responding especially well to the glaze of omega scent that touched over all of his things, Harry couldn't help but feel concerned. She wasn't supposed to be home if her lack of car was any kind of proof, so he couldn't see why her smell would be so deeply ingrained no matter where he touched. 

Trailing up the staircase, with every step the perfume only grew stronger and stronger until he was directed to his bedroom. The door was left ajar only a small crack, but Harry didn't need that peek inside to know what he was going to find the second he pushed the door open. 

(Y/N) sat on her hands and knees, back and bottom facing Harry as she rummaged through a pile of his clothing she had ransacked and splayed out across the floor. Every suitable piece she found was tossed over her shoulder in the direction of his bed, where her nest was beginning to form, full of every soft piece of linen and bedding in the house as well as everything that was directly Harry's that carried his scent to the max. She'd even plucked her own clothing off in favor of putting herself in a large shirt of his and a pair of slouching sweats he'd worn to bed the night before. 

His bedroom was steeped in her scent. The typical notes of cherries and raspberries, creamy strawberries and alluring rose petals flitted to his nose before they were blended and aged into something heady and dark like the wine he had chilling downstairs. There wasn't a single surface left untouched with her smell. 

Harry felt his chest tighten as he breathed in, lungs filling but unwilling to let even a single particle of her scent leave his body. With her frantically pulling a nest together in his bedroom and the extra heat that was added to her scent, Harry knew what was going on as well as his body did in the way it reacted to her. 

"You're nesting," Harry said, voice low but firm as she stepped further into his bedroom. 

With a gasp, (Y/N) sat up from where she was reaching for another of his knitted sweaters to add to the mess that was becoming his bed. She turned with a flutter of her hair, eyes wide as her mouth dropped into a small gape the second she took him in. 

"Harry!" she breathed out, her features molding into a smile before she scrambled to her feet, "You're home!" 

She crossed the room in frantic steps, all but tripping over herself and the length of her borrowed sweats before she launched herself into Harry's arms. Harry stood solidly as she bounded into him, catching her around her waist as she pressed herself flush against his form. The absolute contentment he could smell mixing in with her pleasured scent was only made more apparent in the way she all but melted into his hold, arms looping around his neck as he gazed up at him with hearts in her eyes. 

"I am," he mumbled, trying his best to keep his mind clear despite the way her scent urged him to leave himself to his most basic instincts, "Didn't think y'would be, though." 

"Oh," she sighed, blinking her eyes with a flutter of her lashes, "yeah, I left class early today." 

He couldn't say he was surprised. "Yeah? What happened?" 

(Y/N) didn't even seem to be aware of the way she squirmed in his arms, her chest pressing tightly to his as she lined her hips up perfectly with the full of his thigh. He stayed unmoving as she did so, forcing himself to keep a strong hold on his control until he had a better understanding of what was happening. 

"I don't know, I don't remember," she bubbled off for him, a lazy smile on her features as she began to play with the baby curls on the nape of his neck, "I just wanted to be home with you." Just then, her face dropped, eyes rounding out with lips turning into a frown. "But then after my friend dropped me off—she said I wasn't allowed to drive myself because it wouldn't be safe, so I'll have to get my car tomorrow or something, I don't know. Anyway, she dropped me off and when I saw you weren't home, I got so sad, H. I forgot you worked." 

As mind-muddling as this whole thing was, her scent clouding his head and directing his blood flow south, he couldn't help but smile some at her explanation. She forgot he had a job and wouldn't be home, even though he had said goodbye to her this morning before he left. 

"Is that what got you all upset enough to start nesting in m'bedroom?" Harry pressed, pulsing his arms around her waist when the roll of her hips got a little too deliberate over the full of his thigh. 

Her brow pinched in the middle as if she forgot that was what he had walked in on her doing, the mess on his bed having been thrown from her mind the second he walked through the door. "I guess so," she shrugged, "I knew I wanted to make a nest when I came back even if you were home, and I guess I wanted to make it in your room." 

The idea of (Y/N) toddling home with the intention to nest, only to instinctively go straight to his room, had him seconds away from backing her into his bed and shucking those sweats from her legs once he got her settled in her nest. 

"And y'put m'clothes on?" he murmured, ducking his head down until he felt the tip of her nose grazing his own. 

Not a bit of shame or embarrassment he knew would normally have followed an admittance like this came as (Y/N) nodded her head with a lingering smile. "I missed you." 

"I missed you, too," he told her, the effects of her scent having nothing to do with that, "Y'said y'don't remember why y'had to leave class? Or why your friend had to drive y'back?" 

"I mean," she drawled, tilting her head with a giggle, her throat exposed to Harry's gaze. He swallowed as he traced his eyes over the delicate curve. "I think I do, but I'm scared to tell you." 

The mention of her fear pulled Harry from his lost fantasy as he imagined sinking his teeth into the delicate skin that covered her pulse. She would look so pretty with a mark like that on her throat. 

"Why? You know y'don't have to be scared to tell me things," he told her, his voice turning to a coo that he knew would draw more of her compliance to the surface. If this was what he thought it was, he needed to hear it directly from her. 

"I know, I know," she sighed, matching her gaze to his with that same dreamy quality swirling in her irises, "But I don't want to make everything weird. I don't want you to stop holding me." 

His fingertips gently denting the soft planes of her back, Harry held her tightly against his chest, matching her gaze with his own intensity. "I won't, love, see? Hugging y'even tighter, so now you've got to tell me." 

Though she attempted to bite back her smile, the curve of her lips took over the softened features of her face. He couldn't help but match her expression with a quirk of his own lips, dimple denting his cheek as she raised herself to stand on her tip toes. Meeting her halfway, he ducked his head down and turned his ear to her. 

"I think, I'm having my heat." 

Her voice was a breathy whisper as her lips hovered by his ear, her breath fanning across his heated skin. Her words practically dripped over his skin like warm honey, sticky sweet and heavy as they clung to him. 

"Yeah? You think so?" he pressed, voice deep enough to verge into alpha territory as his arms tightened around her. 

"Mhm," she hummed, canting her head to the side as if she didn't know how tempting that sight would look to Harry in his state. She was lucky she wasn't being as squirmy as before, otherwise all the hard work she put into her nest would have been for nothing with how quickly he would have torn it apart with her on all fours for him. "I've only ever needed to nest this bad when I've been on my heat," she explained, her voice becoming the perfect counterpart to the deep gravel his was leaning into, "But, I've only ever had my heat when I've been with my last alphas, so I do—"

(Y/N) cut herself off as she jumped in his arms, mouth falling open at the low grumble that shook his chest. In a second her pupils were blown wide as he looked up at him, her breathing stuttering in conjunction with the racing of her heart that all but shook her veins. Harry watched as she tipped her head to the side, relaxing against as she bared her neck to him. 

"Don't speak about them," he told her, voice low and deep, just one octave above dipping into his alpha voice and making it a command she couldn't refuse. 

"Sorry," she whispered though she didn't look all that sorry given how turned on she was. 

"Are you?" 

The frantic nod she gave him as she trapped her bottom lip between her teeth was all the response he was given before she tightened her hold around him. He felt her body move against him as she strained on her tiptoes, her nose skimming his jawline as she spoke in a whisper, "Let me show you." 

Just before she made a move to stuff her face in his neck, scent him just as intimately as he had imagined since he'd met her those years ago, Harry was reminded of the flash of her blown pupils. Her breathless voice rung in his ears and the intoxicating scent of her that not only muddled his head but no doubt had her spiraling since she made the choice to come home earlier in the day. He was quick to shift his hold on her, grabbing for the back of her neck before she could make the choice to scent him, a line they never crossed when they were both sound of mind. 

(Y/N) whined when she was stopped, her brows pinching as her lips puffed into a pout. "Why did you do that?" 

It took every bit of strength he had to combat his instincts, trying to tame himself against the heat of her body and the fact she was so willing to do anything for him, anything to make him happy. If she really was in her heat, the fact she had only every gone through them with whatever alpha she had been with at the time made it that much clearer to Harry that this wasn't something she would want with him normally. She wasn't of sound mind. She thought she wanted him because he was the closest alpha to her—the easiest one around to quell her needs.

While he wasn't in a much better headspace than her, he knew he had a better chance of saving them from the regret (for (Y/N) when she woke up and realized she'd let someone she only had platonic feelings for be so intimate with her) and heartbreak (for Harry when he saw her come to that realization) that would ensue the morning after. This wasn't a good idea despite how much his body wanted to convince him otherwise. 

"We can't, (Y/N)," he told her, softening his tone as he massaged the back of her neck in hopes of soothing the rough way he had grabbed her in the first place. 

"Why not?" she whined, her arms around his neck tightening, "Don't you want me? I thought you liked my nest, and I've been making dinner and cleaning up while you're at work. I thought I've been a good omega for you." 

Rolling his lips between his teeth, Harry forced himself to refocus as he listened to her. 

"Y'have been really good, (Y/N). Such a good omega, you know that," he attempted to soothe her, distracting her with his words as he unlaced his hands around her waist in favor of unwinding her arms from his neck. He watched as he perked up at the praise. "I'd be so lucky to have you, I know that. I've wanted y'for so long it hurts, but you don't want me like that." 

(Y/N) was quick to shut him down with a shake of her head, her hands in his turning into a tight grip that urged him to stay. "That's not true! I do want you! I nested with all your clothes, Harry! I want you around me all the time, you're the only one that can make me feel better. I love you, isn't that enough?" 

He swallowed as he tried not to let her pleading go to his head. He'd been waiting around for years to hear her say anything close to that ramble she just shared with him. But, the second he reminded himself that wasn't really her—that it wasn't really his shy, sweet best friend who looked to him for comfort and safety without the pressure of other alphas—he knew he couldn't let himself get caught up. 

"Of course, that's enough, (Y/N). I jus' don't think rig—" 

"Don't you love me, too?" 

The back of Harry's jaw ticked as he processed her words, his gaze dropping to the ledge of her collarbones. He didn't have the strength to look into her eyes as she said things like that and keep his head on straight. 

"I do, (Y/N), so much. For so long, too. But, I think you and I both know that you're not in the right state of mind right now for us to talk about that, right? Are you listening to me?" Maybe he was using his alpha-sway to his advantage, but he needed to know (Y/N) was listening to him, even if she wasn't quite understanding or agreeing for the time being. 

"But—" 

"No, jus' need y'to listen to me right now—that's how you'll be a good omega for me," he explained, tilting his head as he waited for her to mirror him to know she was in tune to what he was saying. "I think your heat is telling you that y'need me, but I don't think that's true. And I wouldn't want to do anything to my best friend that might upset her, even if she thinks its what she wants. Do I?" 

The short shake of her head he earned was enough to have a lopsided smile curling his lips. 

"You won't upset me, though," she peeped back, eyes shining, "I want you so bad because I love you, Harry." 

Though the sentiment she shared was enough to have his already hammering heart skip a beat, he needed to level himself out before he only did something that would upset himself in the morning. 

"I know," he told her, thought he wasn't so sure of that, "How about y'sleep in m'room tonight, and we'll see how y'feel in the morning if anything's changed. Do whatever y'need to do to make yourself happy, alright? I'll be downstairs." On instinct, he wanted to tack on that she could could grab him if she needed him, but that wasn't the kind of invitation she needed to hear at the moment. "I want to help you, love, I really do. But, I can't." 

Harry swore his heart broke as he watched her face fall, tears tingling on the waterline of her eyes as he sat her down on the edge of his bed. The mess of his clothes and fluffy linens shifted as the mattress sunk under her weight, but she didn't seem to pay her little project any mind with the way her eyes were glued to him. 

"I'll see you in the morning, alright?" 

Harry waited for any kind of response until (Y/N) only gave him a small nod. 

He was able to make it out, door shut behind him just before he heard the beginning of her breathless crying. 

—————

Waking up in the morning, Harry felt more exhausted than he's sure he would have if he had just stayed upstairs with (Y/N). 

Scrubbing his hands over his face, he sat up from where he made an impromptu bed on the couch with the single sheet (Y/N) had left in the closet during her effort to make her elaborate nest. He cringed as he rolled his neck; the throw pillow he had stuffed under his head put a crick in the muscles during the three hours he was able to sleep. 

It wasn't (Y/N)'s fault that he wasn't able to shut his mind off or stop listening to everything happening only a floor above him until he finally passed out at three a.m.. She had whined for him for an hour, the cries muffled through the floor separating them, but he knew she was calling for him with every puffed sob. Guilt plagued his every thought as he listened, willing himself to stay just where he was at on the living room couch, no matter how much the alpha in him urged him to soothe his favorite little omega and give her anything she wanted. After she calmed down from that, he listened to the way she darted through his room, her feet shuffling over the floor as she assumedly perfected her nest or whatever she needed to do to fulfill herself without an alpha at her disposal. He tried hard not to think about what the creaking of his mattress could mean the later the night went on. It was only when she seemed to find her own reprieve, quieting for a bit of time, that Harry was able to lull himself to sleep. 

Now, at six a.m., his body apparently deciding he didn't need anymore sleep though his brain begged to differ, he figured he might as well check in on (Y/N). If he thought he had a bad night, he could only imagine how the last handful of hours had been for her. He didn't know how much of their conversation the night before was something that would still hurt her in the light of day, but he hoped anything he said that would still upset her sound mind could be soothed with a plate of his cinnamon French toast and that special raspberry honey he found at the farmer's market that she loved. 

Stretching out his limbs, Harry caught his bearings. Swinging his legs over the side of the couch, his bare feet touching the hardwood sent an orienting chill up his body. Not only was his neck and back going to hurt for the next three days at least, he'd also managed to sleep in his work clothes, keeping him from getting comfortable in his skin. The best part, he was going to have to shower and change right into another set just like it. 

Standing from the couch, he made slow work of folding up the sheet and placing it at the foot of the couch, to be put away when he had a moment. It wasn't until he started towards the bedroom upstairs that he realized there was noise coming from the kitchen, silence filling the upstairs. A pinch pulled at his brows as he slowly woke fully. 

While there was evidence of (Y/N)'s perfume everywhere in his house still, the concentration had dropped considerably. The sweetened top notes that he always associated with her won out against the dark merlot-heavy essence that mixed in the night before. Everything was decidedly less frantic throughout the house, less muddled and more in order, even if that was just because the haze of her scent was no longer clouding his judgment. 

"(Y/N)?" he called out as he ventured towards the kitchen. 

"I'm in here," she answered, her voice decidedly quieter than what he was hollering through the house. She was embarrassed, that much he could tell already, her scent growing demure as if she were trying to shrink herself from the inside out. 

Stepping into the kitchen, he found her now dressed in her own pajamas, damp hair pulled up from her neck into a twist as she stood in front of the stove. The entire kitchen had been wiped down from the midnight snack he made for himself after (Y/N) had settled some in the night, leaving only the supplies she'd used while making breakfast on the counter. 

"Morning," he mumbled, finding a post at the kitchen island to lean into with his elbows on the surface. 

"Morning," she chirped back, trying to hide the demure rose he could smell in her scent. "I'm just finishing up the hashbrowns, but I already made omelettes and everything. It should be ready in a second."

Typically, heats could last somewhere from three days to a full seven depending on the omegas needs and whether or not an alpha was there to fulfill them. Even in the most mild of cases—which hers was not if any of the frantic bubbling and devastated pleas for him to stay were anything to go by—(Y/N) shouldn't be up and caring for him so early in the morning. She even had time to shower and wash her hair, something Harry knew could take her close to an hour depending on how long she felt like luxuriating under the water. 

"How are y'feeling?" he tested, watching her for reactions despite the way she had her back to him. 

With spatula in hand, she scooped out the shreds of potatoes and doled out sections to each plate. She shrugged as she did so, though Harry could see the set of her spine was anything but nonchalant. 

"It was—um—it was a false heat," she murmured, "So, I was able to sleep it off after I calmed down." 

"Oh," he sounded, nodding his head. That wasn't too surprising; it's happened before to omegas. If they spend enough time around an alpha, someone they trust but might not be intimate with, it can push them into a false heat with their body running through the adrenaline and the need for a companion, only for the effects to wear off in twenty-four hours. 

"Yeah," she affirmed, turning to him with their plates of breakfast in hand. Silence settled over them as she rounded the island and picked a stool near where Harry was leaning, his plate being placed just at his side. Taking the invitation to sit, Harry waited as he watched her, noting the way she seemed tightly wound and unable to look at him for longer than a second before her eyes were focusing on something else. 

"Y'feel alright now, though?" he gently prodded. Something was wrong and she wasn't sharing it with him.

"Yeah, just tired," she simplified, nodding her head before she poked at her omelette with her fork. 

"Gonna stay home today, then?" he asked, cutting off a bite of the hashbrowns with the side of his fork. 

"Kind of have to since I don't have my car," she breathed out, attempting to make herself laugh in spite of the obvious discomfort surrounding her. 

"Right," he smiled, the curl nothing more than a facade that he wanted so badly to ease (Y/N). 

Every word that came out of her mouth was a chirp, nothing more. No explanation, as if to avoid any kind of conversation with him. This wasn't at all how he saw the morning after, especially not after he tried so hard to keep things from getting messy between them.

"Harry?" she asked after a beat, looking to him though her eyes were stationed on the countertop under his hand. After Harry hummed an acknowledgment, she paused as she took in a deep breath, flitting her eyes to his where he found a sheen covering them. "I'm so sorry," she peeped.

In an instant he was off his stool with open arms, moving to collect her and soothe her, "Oh, (Y/N)." 

"No, no," she shook her head, her fork clattering to her plate as she waved her hands in front of her. Harry stopped in his tracks, wanting so badly to soothe her but knowing that she wasn't going to let him. "What I did last night wasn't right, and it wasn't fair. I tried to force myself on you after you said no so many times, and then kicked you out of your room all because I couldn't calm down. It's not f-fair"—now the sniffling began with tears running over her waterline—"that I went th-through all of your stuff without asking, all because I wanted to ne-nest. I'm so, so, so sorry. I can't be-believe I did all that to you and you were still so nice to me." 

By then, she couldn't contain the sobs that puffed her chest and stunted her lungs. Harry couldn't hold himself back as he saw her hang her head in her hands, palms to her eyes as she cried her heart out in the middle of his kitchen. As carefully as he could manage, he wrapped her in his arms, giving a moment's time for her to push him away if she wanted her space, but it was her that snuggled deeper against his chest once the warmth was offered. 

"'S alright, (Y/N), really," he crooned to her, dropping a kiss to the top of her head before smushing his cheek in the same spot, "I know that wasn't you, okay? You're such a sweet girl, I knew y'weren't being yourself as soon as y'started talking to me like that. I don't blame you, okay? Heats and ruts can make us do crazy things, especially when we aren't prepared." A smile quirked his lips when he felt her nod her head against his chest, tears smattering his shirt as she clutched the fabric in her fists. "And I offered to sleep on the couch, remember? I knew y'needed your space and I didn't mind that y'needed m'things or m'bed to feel comfortable through it all. Besides, it was a wonderful little nest y'made, no reason for me to complain." 

A hiccuping laugh was muffled against his chest as she nuzzled her nose into his top. "Th-Thank you." 

"I wish I could have taken care of you, so y'didn't wake up feeling like this. I was so worried, I jus' didn't know how to help you, (Y/N). It scared me," he murmured to her, the words sinking into the strands of her hair. 

"I didn't mean to." 

"I know, sweet girl, I know. Not your fault at all, remember?" 

A beat passed as she melted into his arms, the scent of her curling and flourishing the more she let herself relax after the morning she'd had. With her face still tucked against his chest, the tip of her nose skimming his skin through his top, she whispered, "Can I ask you something?" 

"Course, sweet girl." He liked the way her scent peaked in contentment, roses blooming and strawberries flowering anytime he dubbed her his sweet girl. 

"Last night, I know I was kind of out of it, but I remember you telling me you loved me," she started, "It didn't feel like when you usually tell me, though. I-I think you told me you've loved me for a long time... What did you mean when you said that?" 

Now it was Harry's turn to go dry-mouthed as he fought to formulate an answer. He had almost been hoping she wouldn't remember something like that. 

He must have floundered for a second too long when (Y/N) pulled away from his chest, looking up to him with glossy, red-rimmed eyes before she tried to backtrack. "If I'm totally wrong, that's fine, I'm sorry I brought it up. I don—" 

"You weren't," he cut her off in a rush, the words falling from his mouth before he could control them, "You weren't wrong." 

Harry watched as her eyes widened with a glimmer sparking through her irises. The smallest curve plucked at the corner of her lips just as her scent went even sweeter—a sign of sticky, sweet joy dribbling into her system.

"I'm not?" 

Taking in a deep breath full of her fruited scent, Harry shook his head. "No, I did say that," he started, shifting his hold on her to land with his hands on her waist, "And I meant it differently than when we usually say it. I meant it." 

The hands she had bundled in his top tightened, the fabric hers now with how hard she gripped it. "You meant it like—like—" 

"Like 'm in love with you." 

The way she perked up in his arms with a quiet gasp had all of Harry's worry draining from his system. She looped her arms around his neck, mimicking the position he found himself with her the night before but with much more clarity and less squirming. "Are you being serious, Harry?" she bubbled off, bouncing in her spot with her eyes bright and smile big. 

Seeing her get so excited made his heart race. "Why wouldn't I be?" 

"Because, you're—I—," (Y/N) couldn't contain herself as she pulled herself to his chest with a bubbly squeal, "You like me!" 

"I do," he cemented with a breathy laugh, ducking his head down until the tip of his nose was skimming hers, "Can I take it that y'like me back?" 

She nodded her head, hair fluttering around her face that had escaped from her clip, "So, so, so much!" 

"Yeah?" he murmured, voice low and cooing, "Enough to let me kiss you?" 

All it took was the bubbling nod of her head, nose nudging his in the process, before Harry stamped his lips against hers. It was clumsy with the way she struggled to keep from smiling, stop from squirming in her excitement, but Harry wouldn't have it any other way. She was his sweet girl, through and through. 

"Will you stay home with me today?" (Y/N) peeped in between a slew of sweet pecks he dotted over her mouth, sipping on her taste, "I-I don't want you to leave when we just figured all this out, H." 

"Give me one more kiss, then I need to make a phone call and tell someone 'm sick." The way (Y/N) smiled into their one last kiss had him running through what kind of faux-illness he could use to buy him a long weekend with her. 

It was only made that much better when he heard her giggling laughter as he left the kitchen in search for his phone. Her scent bloomed around the house, imprinting her deep enough he hoped she'd never leave. 

—————

this is def a little bit different for me ngl besties! I've never branched out into this kind of fic before so I really hope everyone enjoys! thank you all sm for reading and sorry for any mistakes! if you have any ideas or requests of your own please send them in!!

[arospecsyourblockdudes]

Shang Qinghua is one of the SV characters I can most relate to purely in terms of also being a writer. I know that a lot of the stuff I want to write won’t end up being super popular (a romance with a purposefully unsexy vampire? a story between an m/f best friend pair with a really deep emotional bond and no romance? come on) and publishing is a nightmare anyway. But the difference is that I don’t plan to make a living off my writing. Poor SQH does. So if he wants to do fun things like pay his bills and eat food every day, he has to pander to the big audience.

He’s written other things that weren’t PIDW. Things that weren’t trashy stallion novels. Things he might’ve had a passion for and put his heart into. No dice. So PIDW it is and my god I can’t imagine how annoying and frustrating it is that the one work that you purposefully sold out on so you can, yknow, survive, is the only one that got big. It got really big. Really popular. That’s gotta be so fucking enraging. Imagine that, you think sitting down to write something you like is hard? Try to pump out a few thousand words of some crap you don’t even like every day, crap that you know had potential if following your actual ideas and plans for the characters would allow you to pay rent. Alas. The characters you lovingly crafted are watered down now. No one cares that you came up with a really compelling backstory for this one villain, he did bad things and he got murdered and that’s all anyone wanted to see. Not a real story, not something you put love into

In a way I think that’s partly why he and SQQ became friends. I’m a writer, we like feedback. We like to hear what people think of the things we write, even negative feedback can be appreciated. So if you have this one guy who reads everything, comments frequently, and (most important) can see how absolutely shitty this work of yours is? Someone that also sees the wasted potential of this story? Gotta be worth something.

[spidey-555]

Things I hope the devs of CotL don't do, but a part of me feels like they'll do anyways (or might already be doing):

Revive Ratau if we chose to sacrifice him. Like I said on a previous post, it would invalidate the weight of our decision, and would open the floodgates of "can we undo other heinous actions we do?" If yes, then why should we care about the events of the game if they can all just be undone?

Make the bishops so unlikable and unsympathetic to the point where the audience ceases to care about them. I know they already aren't the most likable characters due to their abrasive personalities (excluding Shamura), but people still find them tragic, so taking away that would just be the nail in the coffin. Unfortunately, this one already seems to be happening, if the description for the graphic novel is anything to go by.

Make Narinder seem like the good guy or otherwise have the story take a side in the whole "sealing of the one who waits" debacle. This kind of ties in when the previous bullet point (especially with the "already happening in the graphic novel" thing), but if they did this, it would feel like they're just pandering to the Narilamb fans by having the story bend over backwards for it.

Have the Lamb be this flawless, unstoppable, and perfect being who everyone (except bad people) loves and will never lose ever. This one is kind of self explanatory. If the devs decide to go this route, then I feel many people would cease caring about the conflicts if this game. After all, if the Lamb can't lose ever, then what's the point of caring about any the conflicts in this game of the Lamb? I will admit that this one is more of a "me" thing than anything else

Cure the bishops of their disabilities. Heal the injuries, sure, but not the disabilities, please. In my opinion, it would be very ableist to do this, as it would imply that the only way for the bishops to be truly happy is them being cured of their disabilities.

Have there be a "canon" interpretation of the Lamb. At the end of the day, the Lamb is a player-insert character, and the fun about those characters is that they can essentially be anyone and can have many interpretations. Making a "canon" Lamb would take away the fun of those characters. This ties into the other Lamb related bullet point somewhat.

Have the Fox and Midas become followers once we beat them. This is assuming we fight them at all, of course. This one is also very opinionated. I feel like getting them as a follower would be bad because it would A) imply they have a chance at redemption and personally I like the fact that we have at least 2 villains we can just hate (here's hoping to more!) B) let us treat them however we want, which means they could not get the punishment they deserve. And before someone says that you can do the same with the bishops (the whole "not getting the punishment they deserve" thing), they already suffered in purgatory, which counts as punishment imo.

Rely too much on toilet and "naked people are funny" humor. This one is another opinionated one. Personally, I'd prefer if we got more character-based humor (hell, maybe some surreal humor as well) than humor that only a child would laugh at. I do want to post this one on the suggestions channel, but I'm afraid of the backlash.

I'll probably add more onto this when it comes to mind

[kingofpuppets]

elden ring dlc spoilers

here's my 2 cents about the dlc and the reactions i'm seeing

i have no intention of writing a post analyzing in-depth the lore of the dlc since i've yet to go through every dialogue and item description as i did for base game – anything i were to write now would be incomplete at best – so this is not it. i just wanted to address the overall dissatisfaction i'm seeing from a lot of people. like, as someone who spent weeks after playing the base game reading every single line of text in the game, analyzing each environment, enemy placement and design, seeing the reaction people are having to the dlc lore is quite funny. i get being disappointed a character isn't what you thought they'd be but going so far as to scream "bad writing!" is a bit excessive. i even saw people claiming miyazaki changed the writing to pander to the fans and, seriously? fromsoftware never came close to doing that and there's absolutely no reason for them to start now. but anyways, as i mentioned before i'm a huge lore nerd, the kind with a huge mind map containing nearly all relevant item descriptions, there's nothing in the base game i haven't read, so i think it's safe to say i have a somewhat good understanding of what new lore piece in the dlc contradicts what lore piece in the base game. i'm in no way an authority on the matter – there isn't one – nor am i pointing fingers saying "i'm right, you're wrong" – i just don't understand. i've been through countless different theories before i settled on the ones i entered the dlc with and obviously i wasn't right about everything – especially because a lot of it is speculation not to mention there's not really a right or wrong, only different interpretations of the same materials – but nothing new i encountered contradicted the base game lore i had put together. if anything, it strengthened even more some of my theories. so many people are upset about miquella being the main antagonist or that he's evil (which i completely disagree with, especially some posts portraying miquella as some kind of cartoon villain which is more speculation than anything with actual support from in-game lore), but everything was leading up to it if not in the base game in the dlc (the moment i found miquella's discarded love i figured who the final boss might be, when i found st. trina i was sure). "but the radahn fight comes out of nowhere" maybe there's no direct mentions of it in the base game but it is hinted quite well albeit very subtlety what miquella wanted to do with him in one of the dlc quests – not to mention radahn makes the most obvious sense when you think of miquella/radahn as a parallel to marika/godfrey. and miquella using mohg is not even worth mentioning – i hope my fellow mohg enthusiasts are feeling vindicated, as am i. in short, nothing seemed out of place for me at all. so i was really taken aback when i went into the tags and saw the overall mood. everyone can have different opinions regarding their enjoyment of the dlc nor are there right and wrong theories in a fromsoftware game where the lore is so vague but it's quite upsetting seeing people talk about how "the dlc ruined miquella's character" or "the dlc lore has no connection to the base game" when that's simply not true. if anything, the dlc only added more depth to miquella and even if i was heartbroken at the death of my favorite elden ring character, it made sense thematically. if anything i'm more upset about the fight itself but that's a gameplay problem which is not the focus of the post.

[gacha-incels]

the otome gacha “Love and Deepspace” made a shit ton of money last month and apparently it scared the guys on gachagaming so shitless their thoughts instantly went to “being replaced by sexbots” for some reason. Does this happen when any all female gacha or female banner would top the charts? No, I’ve never seen women immediately make paranoid posts about being replaced with sexbots when this happens or discussing “well it made money, BUT….” I’ve seen men think women will freak out en masse about the thought of being replaced by some “sexbot” but I’ve never seen it actually happen, at least not as much as men freak out and think it’s the end times when like…a gacha game with a male cast makes a lot of money. It’s very telling.

I posted this here for a few examples in english/more western SNS of what we’ve been seeing while looking at the specific incel groups in South Korea and to a lesser extent China recently. Some of the posters may even be from those communities, in which case it’s also worth it to note how these ideas may travel from community to community. A big one is “this doesn’t count because the money is actually not even from women to begin with it’s from (male in her life)” - in this way it doesn’t matter how much or how little the game makes, the financial success will always be due to the powerful finances of a man. they flatter themselves thinking they own the industry in this way, even the games that pander to women. Newer ones I’m seeing are “actually it only makes this much money because men can spend on different gachas/vtubers(?)/games and this is the only thing women can spend on,” and “women are really hard to market to that’s why no one does it” - the first one you can tell is coping. the second one is also ridiculous as the reply says, women spend on male character banners and merch like crazy and the data is, again, right in front of you. The panic of “I hope this doesn’t catch on globally 😰😰😰” from the OP in one of the replies is funny but reminiscent of the “(if there are) men don’t play (the game)” fear of “genshinification” of gacha where male characters pandering to female players will be increasingly be added to gacha games.

Finally (and I’ve mentioned this in previous posts)I added the last one because it’s something I’ve witnessed frequently in all of these “communities,” if there must be male characters in the game they need to be “manly” and “masculine” - these things meaning looking strong, buff, built “proper men.” they will describe Genshin/mihoyo male characters as “femboys” or “twinks”, on a related note I have no idea how that term has gotten so far away from its original meaning and community that these anime nerds throw it out left and right like it’s nothing. You are probably looking for the term “bishounen”. anyway this poster says “women want masculine men” and I’ve seen a lot of guys say this regarding these games though the data absolutely does not show it. this is just the type of male design that they want because the bishounen male that panders to women in “their” game makes them uncomfortable. Look at the male characters who are designed for women in these games. Project Sekai, Ensemble Stars, Genshin, etc. they’re typically lithe and beautiful, mischievous, cute looking. Look up the type of fanart women and girls from a big target market like China make on Lofter, they’re not making these guys in the western ideal of “proper masculine man.” But frequently I see guys pretending the majority of women hate these types of designs that they actually hate. I mean you can already tell what kind of guy this is when he writes “modern woman is not feminine” lol. But there is absolutely a consistent hatred shared between all these men from different communities on male characters that pander to women in this way, part of this is definitely hating the fact that this character has been made for the female audience who they don’t even want playing the game.

[rwby-encrusted-blog]

You know what? I'm gonna say something that'll probably sound controversial but it's something I honestly Believe.

Black Sun would've been greater pandering than Bumbleby.

This isn't to say that Black sun is bad, I think Black Sun it makes sense and is a good ship, and I fucking love it, but I ship weird shit anyways.

I'm also not going to repeat how and why the Bees make sense, people more eloquent and patient than I have, and I don't want to waste my time mimicking them.

I will, however, say this.

Blake shared a Room with Yang for the entire time they were at Beacon, so about a semester, ~15 weeks, or 3-4 months before Blake met Sun.

Even assuming Blake spent every hour she could with Sun outside of school, she'd spend a majority of her time with her team, including Yang.

This would give her at least equal time between these blonds.

Then the fall happens, and she spends, let's say, three or four months with Sun in Menagerie and on the ship, before meeting back up with her team, thus giving Sun and Yang ample and equal time together.

Blake then spends time with her team, and Yang, going from Mistral to Atlas, and all the time then spend in Atlas.

So for CRWBY to have made Black Sun canon would've severely changed Canon, I believe for, the worse, even if the Bees didn't happen, because that would mean either we'd need to bring SSSN onto the main group, or Sun would have needed to not grow as a character from being with Blake for those months, or the relationship would've been a mute point because Sun returns to his team at the start of volume six.

This is not Anti-Black sun. I am a dirty, filthy multishipper, capable of seeing the aspects of nearly every ship on this fandom.

But I do think Canon RWBY would've been worse off with Black Sun.

[soupthatistohot]

BSD: An Absurdist Analysis - Chapter 1

Absurdism is a philosophy that contends that life is inherently meaningless and that the only way to create meaning is through the act of revolt against life’s absurdities. 

(For a more in-depth explanation: What is absurdism/the philosophy of the absurd?)

Right off the bat, Atsushi assumes the role of our absurdist protagonist by refusing to die despite his seemingly hopeless situation.

Atsushi is an orphan who has just been kicked out of his orphanage, he’s starving, and yet refuses to steal and cannot get a job. Even so, he has this steadfast determination to keep on living, if only to spite those who spurned and abused him. He’s already got that spirit of rebellion in him!

And so he does ultimately resolve to steal from the next person he sees… but then he finds Dazai floating in the river.

It’s a funny contrast we get here. We’ve just had Atsushi declare his intention to keep on living, and then he saves Dazai, who is salty that his suicide attempt has just been interfered with. Immediately, there’s a dichotomy here between a person who wants to live and one who wants to die. 

I won’t get too into it here because it's bound to come up again, but absurdists view suicide as a cop-out, basically. If the whole point of absurdism is to rebel and revolt, choosing to take your own life is the opposite of that, it’s giving up. In this moment, Dazai represents a different response to absurdity, suicide. I will also mention here that there is a third response to the absurd, and this is what the average civilian in BSD likely does: accept absurdity and just live with it. Rather than rebelling, they do nothing, and simply let meaninglessness control them. 

Anyway, after Dazai’s rescue, we are introduced to Kunikida and his ideals. His ideals are a form of absurdist revolt, in a way, and while I’ll explore this more deeply in future chapters where it's more relevant, I did want to bring it up as we establish characters during their introductions. Essentially, Kunikida’s ideals are the guide to how he navigates the absurd world and lives his life, and contrary to popular belief, he is not some goody-two-shoes who constantly panders to rules and authority, he has an acute sense of justice that he’ll adhere to no matter what. That is his way of fighting against the absurdity of the modern world. 

The ADA is neither government nor criminal, they kind of live in their own gray area and their job is basically to handle the most absurd situations (i.e. a man-eating tiger on the loose). I think the ADA being the “dusk” is a really important concept not only for BSD’s ongoing theme of moral grayness but also for this idea of absurdity. The BSD universe is so insane that the government and police, who are supposed to be society’s ultimate protectors, cannot handle it alone — there has to be a specialized group of individuals to do so. 

After this, Atsushi agrees to become bait for the tiger, still unaware of his own special ability, he wallows in self-pity while he waits with Dazai, and then Dazai nullifies his ability once he transforms. Kunikida and some other ADA members show up, and when asked what they’ll do with him, Dazai decides to hire Atsushi.

Note: I love how Ranpo is grinning here while the others are like "wtf?"

You catch an insecure orphan kid with an extremely dangerous ability he has no control over, and decide to hire him? It seems to make no sense, especially since the ADA is introduced as this super-specialized unit of incredibly powerful individuals who do serious and important work.

But, as we know, this works out amazingly for both Atsushi and the agency.

Dazai’s decision to hire Atsushi was his way of embracing the absurd, which is a common theme within stories with absurdist themes. Because what are the other options here? They turn Atsushi over to the police and he’s imprisoned for the rest of his life on account of his dangerous ability? They just kill Atsushi because of said danger? Both of those options have little bearing on Dazai or the agency in the end, and we’re well aware that Dazai isn’t exactly an empath, and yet he chooses the seemingly worst option for the agency, which is to take on this clueless kid. 

We’re treading into Dark Era territory here, but I do want to talk about it because it’s not included in the manga. So, I think it’s also really worth noting that this decision directly ties in with Dazai’s goal to live up to his promise to Oda. At this point in the story, we wouldn’t know this, but Oda explicitly told him to “help out some orphans” when advising him to do good. Overall, what Oda tells him to do is to become an absurdist and search for the beauty in life by fighting against its meaninglessness, rather than giving in through suicide or perpetuating violence in the Port Mafia.

Anyway, that’s the end of chapter 1 of BSD! It sets up a lot in terms of absurdist storytelling, from the characters to the world they inhabit. Future chapter analyses might not take up an entire post on their own like this depending on the chapter’s content, but for the first one, I felt it was important to establish the characters and setting within the absurdist context. 

I also have absolutely no plan or schedule for posting these, I’m mostly doing it for my own enrichment because I genuinely get a lot of fulfillment from merging two of my interests together like this. I will continue to read manga like this in my free time and make these posts until I catch up with the present, and that might take a while since there are currently 110 chapters to get through. Additionally, I will absolutely still continue to do my absurdist analyses when chapters come out, especially since it’s so prudent to the plot of the current arc, so look out for those, too!

Thanks for reading and please feel free to reply and/or send asks about these posts, I love engaging in discussions about this stuff and I’m sure there will be things I miss along the way!

[Next] [Masterpost]

[mrghostrat]

Do you have a favorite scene from season 2? One you would recreate for a fic perhaps?

i'm sure i'm forgetting some amazing moments, but i think the scene with inspector constable muriel is my fave... crowley and aziraphale being all teamed up and yet bickering like a married couple at the same time; crowley whining over his keys but giving them up anyway; aziraphale being so good/helpful but also scathingly smug while pandering to muriel's terrible disguise; muriel in general

i want to recreate the energy in that scene (between crowley and aziraphale) a thousand times over. but in terms of recreating a scene, i'd love to do something with the ball, or the ep 1 coffee shop conversation