#anyway i hope that answers your question well enough anon

[skeletalheartattack]

Who was your favourite mario character as a kid, and who is it now?

honestly? that's a pretty tough question for me to answer, because i played a lot of mario games growing up, and i don't know if younger me would've been able to choose a favourite. in terms of established characters, i think a safe option would likely be bowser; he was always my pick in Mario Kart 64, Melee, and Brawl. though in terms of the entire series as a whole, i liked the luigis mansion ghost designs a lot.

a favourite nowadays? i'm not quite sure. if i had to pick an established character, it'd probably be wario or waluigi. in terms of the entire series, i like the Mario Sunshine boos design a lot... but that's narrowing it down too small because i like a whole lot of designs from the franchise, so it's really hard to pinpoint.

[mad-hunts]

👄 + Scarecrow

there's a pause from barton, or THE DOLLMAKER, as he was currently dressed in all of the garb appropriate to his namesake upon being asked about the complicated case that was jonathan crane. a displeased hum left his lips then as if the act of just mentioning him was bothersome to him — and truthfully, gauging by what he said next, it might have very well been, ❝ ugh. you can't tell because i'm wearing my mask, but i'm rolling my eyes right now. if i tell you how i feel about him, then will you finally leave me alone? i'm busy, you know, ❞ barton's voice was very matter-of-fact as he spoke, though it was raised a degree, like he wanted to make sure whoever this was who was asking him this would hear him. he leaned forward towards them with his hands gripping the autopsy table in front of himself.

❝ i think he squandered his potential the moment he decided to pursue the very unreachable goal that is conquering his own fears, and so, i don't know whether i want to grimace at him every single time i see him or simply avoid him. because fear is something that is engrained in us, and without it, we'd all likely be dead. so by pursuing a way to find out how to remove this very necessary thing we have for survival... it makes him look like he's incredibly ignorant because it's something that doesn't need to be conquered, in my opinion, and so he isn't exactly using his 'smarts' effectively. which is why i consider him a waste of potential; he's just going to keep on running in circles for eternity trying to find a way to get rid of it. but what do i know, i'm not a psychologist like he is. ❞

there's an important distinction there as barton referred to him as a psychologist in the present tense rather than the past tense. barton's mask suddenly creased in the furrow between his brows as if he were getting annoyed, ❝ i also think he's an uppity asshole who acts like he's a lot more important than he actually is, but i have to say... and don't tell him i said this because the last thing i need is for him to think we're suddenly friends; i do somewhat respect him at the same time. he does seem like a really intelligent man, but like i said; if he'd just ditch the whole ' i have to conquer my own fear ' thing, he would so much better off. i suppose he has been kind of drifting away from that in recent times, though, but not nearly enough. he is also someone who likes experimenting on people and exploiting their fears because he likes to feel as if he's being taken seriously and like he's big, powerful. so it was out of insecurity that he started making his toxin at all. or, at least, that's how i see it. ❞

barton shrugged his shoulders slightly and turned around to have his back pressed against the table. whether this was on purpose or not was unclear, but he could've been doing it to hide his reaction to what he was going to talk about next, ❝ i think he himself still has some beef with me over the incident me and him had in arkham. which is fine, of course, i don't really care. but it has been a while since i took that needle and thread to his lips because he really does have the widest smile. and it makes me physically want to squirm whenever i see it because i just... want to fix it. it's too wide, you know. i suppose it's probably likely he remains hung up over it to this day because i didn't use anesthesia, ❞ barton flipped his whole body around then, a bit of a twisted snort leaving his lips. ❝ but where are you going to get that in arkham? they don't even let us see the dentist half the time, so you know. i had to improvise. but anyway, does that answer your question? ❞

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Ah I see well if that's the case ♦️ I would like to request Sub Albedo "experimenting" on Dom male reader. Which is a excuse to have rough sex.

Author's Note: The concept I went with is; Albedo is testing out a new potion that causes Reader to get suuuuper horny, so Reader indulges his urges and this leads to very rough, primal fucking (something that Albedo 100% planned on/wished for). I hope that works for you, anon! :3

Pairings: Albedo x male reader

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Albedo, rough sex, handjob, blowjob, dirty talk, dry humping, reader gains an inhuman amount of stamina temporarily

“How is it?”

You attempt to stifle an incoming burp before replying, “Not… great. Not the worst taste either.”

Albedo smiles faintly, penning something down before he turns towards the table behind him. He reaches for a glass jar filled with small, crystalline objects and pulls one out.

“Here,” he says, placing the object in your palm. “this should help with the taste without disturbing the potion.” You smile and thank him, popping the small—what you now realize is candy—into your mouth. Its sweetness coats your tongue, erasing the weird bitterness of Albedo's concoction. It's rather nice, actually.

Minutes pass by. Your partner asks you a few more questions and notes down your answers, then turns back to tinker with some other glass beaker (filled with another strangely coloured liquid), leaving you to remain seated on an adjacent table as the potion he had you test sets in.

At first, you didn't feel any different — no sudden change in body temperature, not a single gurgle from your stomach, nor any hallucinations to be found. Although… the newfound tightness of your pants was undeniable…

“Mmrgh…” a groan escapes you, but you don't think Albedo notices. He's too focused on maintaining the temperature of that other potion.

The throbbing between your legs is in sync with your heartbeat; growing louder by the second and speeding up as your thighs tense and twitch all on their own.

“H-hey… 'Bedo?”

“Hm?” He doesn't turn around yet.

“Is that… supposed to make me feel warm? Like, real warm?” you ask, chest heaving greatly.

Albedo holds a beaker up and swirls the liquid inside around as he replies, “It is a possibility. Is your body temperature increasing?”

You pant. Dragonspine definitely shouldn't feel so hot… not even in the comfort of your partner's cave-lab, tucked away from the icy wind that plagues the rest of the mountain. “I… maybe? It's hard to tell by myself.”

Finally, he turns around to face you. His face is as unreadable as always as he walks over and begins to inspect you; placing the back of his gloved hand to your forehead. Albedo pivots back around to retrieve his clipboard and pen, writing something down again.

By now, you're humping the air, desperate to feel a little friction against your dick as it strains against your pants. Either Albedo is oblivious, or he's ignoring it, because he keeps asking questions even while you're grinding against your own pants…

But that's not enough… “Hey, c-can I… see your hand a sec?” your voice is hushed, but the alchemist hears your request and holds out his hand for you anyways.

He gasps, unmoving as he lets you put his hand in between your legs; you're grinding even harder, the tent in your pants pressing hard against his palm, and your precum leaks through the fabric easily. You moan and lean your head back as a small wave of relief eases the searing ache that racked your body before. Now you simply used Albedo's hand as an object to hump, like a pathetic mutt in heat. And, thankfully, he didn't stop you. Albedo allowed you to become this crude display, even tossing the clipboard aside so both hands could cup your erection and stroke it (which you were undoubtedly grateful for!)

“Fascinating…” he mutters, just as you feel a chill on your dick as Albedo pulls it out, his hands wrapping around your length fully. It takes both of his hands to fully work your cock; they glide up and down expertly, spreading every dribble of precum. The rough texture of his gloves adds to the pleasure—not rough enough to be unpleasant or painful, but just enough to spice up an already amazing handjob. Albedo's skills have improved so much ever since you started dating.

The cold table knocks against the stone ground underneath as you shamelessly thrust up into your partner's fists. The surface chips with every clench of your fists, your nails dig in harshly and create marks as the tips of Albedo's fingers graze against your cock head. He knows how to play with your body in such a way that would make you bend to his will; relentless teasing and touching so, so close to where you need him to. But he doesn't. He leaves you wanting more, even as he gives you so much already.

Your breath hitches when he rubs the head once more, and you wheeze out “Fuck–!! Fuck… baby… please…!! You're gonna use more than just yer hands, right?”

Albedo meets your gaze, and you can barely make out the flicker of excitement in his eyes. His movement halts as he tilts his head, asking “Did you have something particular in mind?”

Before the alchemist can say more, he finds himself pushed between your legs, face smushed against your glistening, throbbing cock. The smell alone makes him dizzy. Just being in this position, in such close proximity to your dick, has Albedo growing hard himself, eyes half-lidded and tongue licking the underside of your cock almost mindlessly.

“Suck it.” you half plead, half command. He planned to anyway, but it's not like he has much of a choice with your heavy hand pushing his head down, forcing him to swallow half of your cock right away. He coughs, squeezing your thighs in a slight panic before adjusting to the steady thrusting of your hips. You keep both hands firmly on Albedo's head now, holding it in place as you fuck his warm mouth.

“Mmph! Mhm, suck that cock, babe- yeah–!!” A shaky breath surprises you, brought on by the alchemist playing with your balls while you use him.

It doesn't take much more for you to fill his mouth — a thick load of cum, which Albedo swallows easily. Whatever didn't go down dribbles down his chin, hanging there as he catches his breath.

Though you just came seconds ago, you notice that your dick is still standing upright, hard as it was and coated in the aftermath of that sudden blowjob. Whatever Albedo used in that potion must be messing with your hormones, because that primal desire to fuck—to bury your cock in a tight hole and breed them stupid—was still gnawing at your conscience.

Before he could register your movement, the chalk prince found himself bent over the table you were just sitting on; pinned by a hand on the small of his back, and teased as you push your stiff cock in between his cheeks, grinding fervently.

But it's not enough… he's wearing far too much clothing right now–

Albedo yelps, startled when he feels the fabric covering his ass tear. A large hole left him wide open, and you don't hesitate in slamming your dick inside of him. To your surprise, your dirty boyfriend must have prepped himself, because his hole was already slick and slightly loose when you entered.

“Oooohh shit~ Oh my god– haha, were you hoping for this, Albedo?” you growled, smacking his ass. “You dirty bitch, you just wanted- fuck! …you just wanted me to pound you, right?” Albedo bit his lower lip, peering at you over his shoulder with a look that confirmed your suspicion.

Well if that's what he wants, then you'll happily give him a real pounding; fit for a prince 💛

You grip his shoulders and speed up, hitting his sweet spot. His walls squeeze your dick, milking another load out of you. …Except, this time, you don't stop. Despite your orgasm, you don't feel the need to recover; instead, you keep that bruising pace while Albedo cries out, swearing and gasping.

The table bangs absurdly loud with every thrust, scooting across the mountain floor until it's up against the wall. The alchemist screams in ecstasy, repeating “yesyesyesyesyesyes–!! ”. You're hammering your semen deeper inside, listening to the squishy sounds of your boyfriend's hole, watching your length disappear as he takes all of it.

“Gonna cum again! Take it, baby- take all of it—!!” with a grunt, you finish inside of him again. Albedo's body lifts up as you push inside as deep as physically possible, his feet dangling off the ground as his eyes roll back, and a silent moan falls from his open mouth.

You both remain there, shaking—trembling—until your muscles give out and you collapse on top of him. Neither one has the strength to move for a while.

Albedo hums when he feels you nuzzle against him with your cheek. Your hands remain on him in some manner; trailing up and down his sides, reaching up to tangle with his hands, or thumbing at his lip softly. He whines, a familiar throbbing sensation buried in his guts signaling that the effects of that potion haven't quite worn off yet……

[moonstruckme]

since it's currently flooding where i live, i'm gonna request firefighter!marauders or emt!marauders (whatever works) saving reader who is trapped in her house with the flood being past the chest or something

andddddd reader has asthma, if ur okay with that? (i have terrible asthma and it's so so annoying honestly)

anyway, thank you for writing all of these fics of yours! they are all so amazing!!!

(also, can i be 🌼 anon?)

Hi lovely, thanks for letting me do just James for this! And ofc you can be that anon <3

cw: water rescue, asthma attack, I did do research but I feel like this can’t be accurate so sorry about that

firefighter!James x fem!reader ♡ 589 words

You wait until you hear the boat motors getting close again before you start to crawl out the window. 

“There!” you hear someone shout, and you nearly collapse with the relief of not having to use your air to call out. The boat rumbles closer, and then a fireman with sweetheart eyes and a mop of curly hair crushing out from beneath his helmet is reaching for you with both hands. 

“Hi, there,” he says, grabbing you around the waist and lifting you the rest of the way out. You brace yourself by putting your hands on his shoulders (his very impressive shoulders, you can’t help but notice, which make you remember how your own clothes are stuck damply to your skin from the chest down). Your lungs burn beneath his hands, no better or worse for his touch. “Is it just you in there?” 

“Yeah,” you wheeze. Another firefighter settles one of those aluminum blankets you’re always seeing on TV around your shoulders. “Just me.” 

“Alright,” he says, dark eyes growing troubled as he processes your onerous breaths. “Are you okay?” 

The pain in your chest worsens as you forcibly expel another breath, dragging in a hasty inhale. “My inhaler got ruined.” 

The man’s expression clears just before his brow creases. “You’re having an asthma attack?”

You nod urgently. 

“Alright, okay. Come here, let’s sit down.” 

He pulls you to the back of the boat, guiding you down onto the rubbery floor while someone else passes him a medical bag. Your knees fold towards your chest automatically, some useless instinct to protect the part of you that’s hurting. It does nothing. 

“Have you had asthma attacks before?” he asks you, digging through the bag. Someone starts driving the boat forward. You start to relax when you see him pull out a mask attached to an air compressor, your salvation.

“Yes.” 

“Compared to the other attacks you’ve had before, how badly would you rate this one on a scale of one to ten?” 

“Six.” You answer without hesitating, familiar with this line of questioning. 

“Alright, lovely.” He finishes affixing the hose to the nebulizer, setting the mask to your face and turning on the air compressor. “Just breathe in for me.” 

You do. The relief isn’t instant, but it may as well be. You feel heaps better just knowing the medicine is working. 

You must look visibly calmer, because the man across from you smiles. It looks at home on his face, and the little crinkles which appear at the corners of his eyes suggest he does it often. 

“There we go,” he encourages. You hope your expression conveys the appropriate gratitude as you take the mask from him, holding it to your own face. “I’m James. You were trapped in there for a while, huh?” 

You nod, and he laughs at your weary look. 

“I’m sorry.” James gives your shoulder a friendly squeeze. His face is remarkably cheery for someone who’s been tasked with boating around and rescuing people all day; then again, as a rescuee, you can see the value of a bright spot in the murk left behind by the floor. As soon as you get this mask off, you think you owe him about a million thanks. “I’m sure it’s been really difficult, but we’ve got food here you can have in a bit, and that thermal blanket should help warm you up quickly enough. Just keep breathing into that thing for another few minutes, love, and then we’ll get you all fixed up.”

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Reacting To Your Symbiote

Requested: HEYY ive been eating UPP your head-canons for rhe boys, i would like to request one on how they would react w/ a reader that has a symbiote (venom basically) except it’s not like butcher’s case, but spouted from comp v when they were injected at a young age :D - anon

A/N: This idea is cool my love!!!! I hope you like it!! I did base it off clips from Venom/the Wikipedia just bc it's been ages since I saw the movie lol so apologies if anything is wrong!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜

Requests are open! 🔮

Butcher thinks your symbiote is both gross and a great thing to have on the team. You didn't tell anyone about them, fearing you'd hear the same responses you'd always heard growing up. He interrogates you about your powers. You promise you would never hurt anyone, that it's pretty bad in terms of looks, but that you have everything under control. That's not good enough for him. He wants you to show him. After more yelling and assumptions, you snap. It's only your arms that you allow to be taken over, but it's enough to leave him feeling sick. Afterwards you're pretty quiet, avoiding him as well as you can. The look on his face was exactly what you were trying to avoid. Eventually he grows a little more used to them and even apologized, though it's a poor one at best. When he really sees you in action he's left speechless. The team needs you, both of you. You're strong, and powerful, and scary in the best way possible.

Hughie was pretty freaked out the first time you showed him. You begged him to run, to save himself, but mostly you wanted him gone so he wouldn't have to see. When he didn't, you had no other choice. Your symbiote took over, giving you just enough control to apologize before, quite literally, annihilating your attackers. He couldn't believe what he was witnessing. He knew you were a Supe, you were pretty upfront about that, but you'd never gone into detail about what you could actually do. He understood why. Your symbiote was the thing of nightmares. It was malleable, and throbbing, and it could be as large as it wanted. It swallowed you whole, making itself a set of knife-sharp teeth. It smiled at him, telling him he was safe, which would have been endearing had it not been you standing in its place moments before. He has a lot of questions, all of them you're more than willing to answer. He deserves to know, especially coming face to face with them. You're an open book, the both of you are.

Annie was pissed. You never told her you were a Supe in the first place. You couldn't tell her. She was everything good about Supes and you feared you were everything bad. You were afraid of her judgement. You had enough of that from M.M. You made sure no one told her, not until you thought she was ready. And then she watched you save Hughie. She felt like an idiot, watching them take over your body, in awe and horror. She felt lied to. Technically, you think but dare not say, it wasn't lying because she never asked you, she just assumed you were human. You apologize anyways, knowing it wasn't right. You show her your symbiote bit by bit, introducing them slowly, telling her as much as you think she can handle at a time. You've been told, if you wanted, you'd be a perfect villain, you'd fit right in with Homelander. You didn't want her to come to the same conclusion. Annie could come to rash decisions at times. You figured you and your symbiote were no exceptions.

M.M isn't the biggest fan. It's nothing personal. Being a Supe is enough not to make him like you. On top of that you've got this thing inside of you that has a mind of its own. It could be capable of anything and you'd have very little control over it. You know this. You've been dealing with it since you were a kid. You and your symbiote grew up together. You've reached a level of mutual understanding and maturity that they aren't just going to start running around and rob banks or hurt people. That's not who either of you are. Still, he can't shake the feeling, the worry, that they could turn on your team at any moment. Your symbiote knows M.M. doesn't like them and, much like a dog, wants to give him extra attention because of it. You've had long talks about what not to do around him, keeping them in check so that you can gain just an inch more of trust. Anything helps to show him that you're not a monster.

Frenchie is probably the most comfortable around your symbiote out of all The Boys. He has a lot of questions for the both of you, especially about your childhood. For many years you thought you were a monster. Your family was expecting powers that could save people, that would get you into The Seven. Instead there was this thing that took over your body, this creature that could control their child. They thought it was gross, unsightly, and forbid you from letting them out. Of course you didn't listen. When you fell off your bike and skinned your knee, they fixed it. When you couldn't reach something, they helped you. They weren't all bad, they just weren't willing to learn that. Still, there was a lot of shame and even now, you struggle to open up about them. There's absolutely no judgement from Frenchie. He's fascinated. Awestruck. He tells you constantly how cool and powerful he thinks you both are. He doesn't want you to think of yourself as some kind of monster or abomination. Ever.

Kimiko watched your symbiote take over the first time you were really hurt. Homelander pushed you off the roof and you fell, breaking your bones, gasping for air, but magically alive. If she could have, she would have screamed. Your symbiote, as gently as it could, wrapped itself around your body, resetting your bones, putting your insides back together. It was excruciating. It only takes a few minutes before you're completely healed. She watches in awe, eyes wide, unsure of what the hell just happened, but eternally grateful you were okay. She stands you up, unsure of what to say. That night, you tell her everything. She's the first to really appreciate them. They're not the most attractive and have a wicked attitude, but they care about you. They saved you. Anyone who loves you that much is good in her books. She gives them names, asking how Kevin is or if Susan might be able to help her with something. It always makes you smile, knowing she isn't afraid of them or thinks of you any differently.

Bonus! Homelander thinks your symbiote is disgusting and weird. He refused to have you be a part of The Seven, but without any other candidates, he eventually gave in. You do a lot of weird things that truly make him uncomfortable. Arguing with your symbiote is a big one. Only you can hear them when they're inside, so it just looks like you're talking to yourself all the time. He hates when you're "saving" someone and they come out, but only partially, like a hand or leg. Something about that, you and them together, makes him queasy. When it's one or the other, that's a little better. When he gets uncomfortable he gets angry, which is bad news for you. Like The Deep, you've become a scapegoat for Homelander. If anything goes wrong, it's your fault. Your symbiote doesn't like him and, as hard as you try to keep them in check, they make it known.

[jymwahuwu]

Hi! Really love your stories they always scratch my brain (*≧∀≦*)❤️, so I got an idea and wanted to ask what you think about it

I got this question with Sunday on the minigame/event (idk what to call it lol)

"Just as you're about to pull a dusty hard-leatherback book, you hear a gentle whisper within earshot, "Averoy Rosewood's works are notorious for their obscurity," the Oak Family Head Sunday faintly smiles at you. "Perhaps you need more elaboration."

(I couldn't put the image since anon asks don't allow me to put images😮‍💨, but it's from a Board Encounter in Cosmodyssey)

and when I read it my brain immediately went WHAT IF SUNDAY FILLS THE READER WITH A VIBRATOR ON THE LIBRARY, and him just watching in amusement as he talks about books and asking her questions about them while he plays with the levels of vibrations with a control on his hands and she just struggles to make sentences, so he goes and asks "What's wrong? Are you not feeling well?" To tease her and remind that she's in a public space and can't make much noise unless she wants everyone to know about what they're doing.

Hmm... I wrote this about Sunday, but I feel like maybe it could be about Jing Yuan or Aventurine 🤔, anyways sorry if it sounds weird my brain sometimes goes into unga bonga mode when I think about these men.

Sincerely,

An unhinged anon.

Thank you for telling me. I experienced this event and read the content of Sunday helping us in the library!! Wrote a little bit, I hope you like it 💗🫶

cw: yandere, non-con, abuse of power, abuse of credit, vibrator, harassment

How about you being the librarian at The Family Library? A nerdy librarian. The Family claims that this is a library open to everyone to read and borrow, covering a variety of books and hologram collections.

Sunday, the leader of the Oak Family noticed you. He can accurately talk to you about your interests, hobbies and ideals, and encourage you…but one thing is that you are not religious enough in your belief in harmony. You are too withdrawn…and cannot integrate into The Family. Sing hymns, participate in activities, and protect The Family, others can do it, but what can you do? He cannot allow you to continue in this position under these circumstances. You panicked, grabbing his sleeves and pleading with him through tears. "W-what, I really believe Lord Xipe…I need this job badly! Please Mr. Sunday…"

He offered a plan. He used his gloves to push a delicate small box in front of you. You must put two vibrators in your underwear while on duty to test your professional abilities. If you can tolerate sinful sexual pleasure, you qualify for this position.

"But… Mr. Sunday, can I-can I take a break?"

"Of course. I'm not here to torture you. This is for your and everyone's happiness and harmony, I hope you understand." His words ignited the hope in your heart. "You have 2 hours a day to take them down. Allocate your own time. After get off work, you head to my office and I will check on your progress. You must do this every working day."

"Check?" Your heart sank into the starry sky and was crushed. "Okay. Mr. Sunday..."

These two vibrators… are pearl white and have an angel wings pattern on them. It's silent, but it delivers a surge of pleasure to your private parts, sometimes fast and sometimes slow down. It's not much better when it's slow - it's a long, quiet torture that gives you no relief. You kept your legs still and sorted your books and documents, your underwear getting wet. Every half minute, you check like a hawk to see if you have wet your clothes, fearing that it has become a joke in the eyes of others…

He occasionally wanders into the library to check on your work and ask you to recommend books in a certain category or answer questions about the collection.

"What's wrong? Are you feeling uncomfortable?" Sunday approached you with caring eyes and ruthlessly pushed the controller frequency to the highest level. You lowered your head, holding back tears, your legs trembling. "I-I'm fine. Mr. Sunday. Thank you for your concern."

This kind-hearted gentleman and leader offers to take you to another secluded corner of the library to rest. On the road, Sunday dials down the vibration frequency and doesn't crank it up until you get to the corner. The intense ecstasy immediately hits you to the extreme and stimulates your nerves. You endured your moans, trembling in Sunday's arms as you reached orgasm. His hands caressed your hair like a lovable pet. He commented that your ability to endure needs to be improved.

After you get off work, Sunday asks you to take off all your clothes in the office and fold them on the table. He uses white gloves to inspect and rub your private parts, circling them with his thumb. In the watery light, those fingers slowly inserted between your legs and twitched. He clicked his tongue in disappointment when he realized that his fingers were already wet enough to slide into the inner walls before being inserted. "Not religious enough, are you? What are you thinking about? You're letting pleasure take over your body."

"...I'm sorry!! Mr. Sunday, Please give me a chance…" you begged with a sob, then cummed hard at his disappointed sigh.

[becomingmina]

hey would you be able to write a felix x fem reader angst? when felix falls out of love with her.

“ARE YOU SURE IT'S NOT HATE?" anon request w/ LEE FELIX.

pairing: felix x female reader genre + warnings: angst, reader cries wc: 1.9k mina's note: tmi - my ex fell out of love with me so this hits home a little. we meet when we were 12 and we broke up when we were 21. anyways, i hope you guys like this :)) and to the cuties anon who requested this, thank you very much!! sorry for making you wait, im just like felix i have no reason!

other works here ; any comments and thoughts you can drop them here ; ty for reading.

“I asked you a question baby,” you say from across the kitchen island. Felix was occupied on his phone, sitting on the stool on the other side of the counter.

“I gave you an answer Y/N,” he huffs after a few seconds, not lifting his head from the device.

“Yeah, but not verbally though,” you make your way over to him.

“Yeah, but I’m sure you’re grown enough to figure it out, Y/N,” he replies back, rolling his eyes up from his screen for a second before continuing with scrolling.

“You’re really fine with them being blue?” You questioned again, hugging him from behind, your chin resting on his shoulder.

“They’re just cupcakes, they’ll get eaten anyways. I don’t understand what’s the big problem with the colour of the icing,” he says irritated.

It was Chan’s turn to host dinner for your friend group. You and Felix usually bring over homemade cupcakes for dessert. It was a ritual to spend every last Saturday of the month together in the kitchen baking and decorating two dozen cupcakes. And usually, it was Felix who would have a hard time choosing the colour for the icing but today it seems he just wanted to get the cupcakes over and done with.

“Okay,” you replied defeated, feeling a little hurt at his tone. “Did you wanna help me?” You softly asked, sniffing his shoulder to take in his sweet scent.

“I’m busy,” Felix sighed.

“Okay, I’ll iced them then,” you moved yourself away Felix, walking back to your original position in the kitchen.

Lately you feel like Felix hasn’t been his clingy needy self. He would stick onto you like glue every second of the day but recently he’s been distant. You can’t pinpoint when exactly it became like this, but you were sure it’s been a couple of weeks by now. He’s been telling you that work has been busy for him, and you understand how it can affect him, but you still feel a little bit downhearted when he visually shows his annoyance with you.

After finished up with the icing and getting yourself ready, you sat in living room with the box of cupcakes on your lap patiently waiting for Felix. He had locked himself in the office, saying he needed to go over his feedback for some report for work.

“Hey, how’d it go?” You ask when you hear the office door open, but he ignores your question as he searches for his car keys. You expected it didn't go well.

The car ride to Chan’s was silent as you figured you should probably give him some space. He looks over to your side a couple of times noticing your quietness, but he doesn’t strike conversation with you, only making a few little comments about how bad traffic was. You brushed off his lack of initiative making excuses for him that he was just tired from work.

“He surprised me the other day! He’s going to rent out my favourite art gallery for our wedding reception,” Hana and Hyunjin was giving the group details their upcoming wedding at dinner. They were so cheerful talking about it and although you loved it for them, you couldn’t help envy it and wished for you and Felix to reach that stage in life shortly.

“Who’s next? Felix? Y/N?” Chan teased with a raised brow, and you goofily smile at the older man. You turned your head to Felix to see his reaction, but his head is tilted down and his face was straight. Chan notices the tension and quickly changes subject hoping no one else catch on. It caught you by surprise that he wasn’t as responsive as you were to Chan’s joke. It got you second guessing if it was even work that’s been making him like this.

You spend the rest of the night with the other girlfriends. As they spoke about their recent dates with their partner, all you could do was be happy for them concealing the fact that you and Felix hadn’t been on one in ages. You keep glancing over at Felix throughout the night but he showed you no attention. Usually you would catch him staring at you and blowing kisses and winks at you, but tonight there was nothing.

The car ride home was the same as the car ride there - quiet.

Felix walked in your apartment first, you followed behind him closely. As you put your bag on the entry way table you tripped over a pair of shoes accidentally falling forward on Felix in the process.

“Y/N watch yourself!” Felix yells, clearly annoyed.

“Sorry,” you softly say as you got up. “I just tripped,” you defend yourself, feeling tears start to form in your eyes at his tone.

“God can you look where you’re going?!” he groans turning around to face you. He was red mad. He had never got this angry at you before for tripping over.

“Did I do something wrong to you Felix?” You asked softly, feeling something heavy in your chest. You needed an answer to why he’s been treating you differently, it’s obvious now that it wasn’t because of work. “Last couple of weeks you have just been distant towards me and I’m a little hurt by it,” you say cracking your voice in the process, pulling a string on Felix’s heart. He frowns at your reaction.

You watch him sigh, hesitating little bit before he answers “You know work is hectic-”

“-Is it?” You questioned in an offended tone, dumbfounded that he used the same excuse again - work. “Work is hectic that you have to yell at me because I accidentally tripped on your shoes? Work’s been hectic that you can’t even smile at me in front of our friends? Work’s been hectic that you can’t even answer a simple question about the colour of the icing on the cupcakes that use to mean so much to you?!”

You didn’t expect to have an outburst like this. Felix doesn’t reply, he just takes a deep breath watching you as you continue to lash out at him.

“You don’t ask if I’m okay anymore. You don’t hug me anymore. Because of work?” You chuckle, sarcastically.

“Y/N-” he takes a step closer to you.

“-You’ve leave for work early in the morning and come back home late on the days I’m at home-”

“I-” he tried to speak again.

“And when it’s the weekend you lock yourself in the office all day. You avoid spending time with me, you avoid talking to me.” Your face was red, brows furrowed as you keep your tears from falling.

“Y/N, let me talk-”

“What did I do to-” You cut him off again.

“I’m not inlove you anymore!” Your heart drops at his words. The tears you tried to conceal instantly rolls down your cheeks and you take in a sharp breath. “This relationship is draining me.” He adds, breaking you even more.

You didn’t expect this. He’s been so mean to you lately all because he wasn’t in love you anymore? It doesn’t make sense to you that all of this was done because he fell out of love. You refuse to believe it.

“Are you sure it’s not hate?” You sniffled, pulling another string from Felix’s heart. "Are you sure it's not because you hate me?" you repeat yourself when he doesn't answer, feeling a bit anxious that it might be true, that he actually hates you.

“Never.” Felix replied rapidly this time, his tone a lot more softer now. “I could never hate you Y/N." Felix continues to conceals his emotions, not letting anything pass you.

“But you’ve been acting like you do.” You wiped your tears with the back of your hand, your eyes wavering to seek any reaction from him.

“I just needed space Y/N.”

“I gave you space. So much space,” you retorted.

“I think we should..” he stops before he says the last words, letting you piece the puzzle by yourself.

“You want to leave me?” You question and he flicks his eyes away from yours. You got your answer.

He lets out a heavy breath, running his fingers through his blonde hair, his eyes falling back on yours. “It’s for the best Y/N.”

“No, I don’t understand. Where I go wrong, Lix?.” you reached out to grip his forearm as the tears continued down your face, dripping to the floor.

“I don’t want to be here with you anymore,” he says softly, trying to loosen himself from your hold but you latch onto him tighter as you shake your head no.

“That’s not a reason Lix. Tell me where I went wrong,” You needed answers. He owe it to you. “You were the one who chased me, remember? You made me fall in love with you. It’s been 4 years and you want to leave me? Why?” You asked, in a complete mess.

“I don’t know,” he replies. “I’m sorry Y/N,” Felix apologies.

“Tell me why?”

“I can’t-”

“Then stay.” If he didn’t have an answer then he shouldn’t leave you, it’s unfair.

Y/N,” he says firmly.

“Just for one night,” you say, taking in a deep breath. “You can leave when I fall asleep,” you surrendered, eyes wavering waiting for his answer. “Please,” you beg.

“Y/N.. Baby I can’t,” it was the first time he called you that in a while and your heart breaks once more. He stopped calling you that and started calling you by name for months now. How is it that you never noticed until now.

“I’ll let you go when I fall asleep.. Please..Just love me one last time, Felix.”

Felix contemplated. He stared at you. Your glossy eyes. Your runny nose. Your red cheeks. He watches your chest rises up and down as you tried to control yourself. He hates seeing you cry, he hates seeing you hurt. It breaks him. He gives in. “Okay.”

He has you on pulled up flushed on him on your shared bed, your legs tangled with his. Your face pressed again his chest as one of his hand is wrapped around your waist and the other traces nothings up and down your back. Your tears haven’t stop, they fall effortlessly out of your eyes on his shirt. You stay quiet. You want to talk. You have so many questions to ask. So many things you want to know. But you stay quiet because you know Felix won’t answer you. So instead you stare into nothing as you replay back your happiest memories with Felix. You can’t help the small smile that is pulled on your face as you remember everything, every detail of everyday with him.

You tried you best to stay awake but you feel your eye lids closing. You don’t want to give in to sleep because you know by the time you wake up, he’ll be gone. But you’re exhausted, both your body and mind.

Felix stares up at the ceiling. He’s guilty. He owes you a reason, he owes you answers but he keeps quiet. He replays back memories but he doesn’t have the same reaction as you. He doesn’t smile. He cries instead. Tears run down his face as you recalls the soft and sweet memories with you. How could he do this to you? How could he make you fall in love with him then walk out like this? How could he say he was no longer in love with you?

Felix doesn’t hear your sniffles anymore. He feels your breathing evens out with his body. You had fallen asleep in his arms.

Felix presses a kiss to your temple, his arm still holding your waist tightly.

“I’m sorry.”

[wol-fica]

-𝕤ℍ𝕖’𝕊 𝕛𝕌𝕤𝕋 𝔸 𝕗ℝ𝕚𝔼𝕟𝔻-

pairings - jennaortega x fem!reader

summary - You and Jenna are on the phone when a lil slip up happens with a coworker teehee

warnings - jokish angst, mostly fluff, pissy jenna

an - just gonna say this was such a sweet request (you know who you are anon <3 )

———

“And then I literally got a shotgun to the face!” Jenna exclaimed to you over the phone as the two of you laughed about her death scene in X.

It was around 1:00 for you but, being in New Zealand, it was 8:00 in the morning for your girlfriend. She had woken up early to catch you on your lunch break so you could talk. She had filming today but wouldn’t be going for another 4 hours or so, so you enjoyed your lunch while she ate her breakfast.

“That’s crazy, and honestly lame.” You quipped before taking a bite of your salad.

“Yeah, I wish I would have had a chance to live longer or even survive, but it’s not a big deal.” 

You hummed while chewing, scrolling through photos of your partner as you ate. Jenna was undoubtedly gorgeous, yet so composed and well-rounded. The two of you had met through one of her co-stars; they had set you up for a blind date hoping that you would hit it off with each other. 

Now here you are a year and a half later, dating one of the most iconic actresses of your generation. Crazy isn’t it?

“Anyways, enough about me. What’s been going on with my favorite girl?” Jenna asked, her voice muffled as if she was chewing.

You opened your mouth to answer, but was interrupted by your coworker Abby.

“Hey Y/N! I brought you those papers you wanted.” Abby said, setting down a large stack of files.

“Thanks Abs, I appreciate it.” You replied as you pushed your salad to the side.

Abby noticed the phone against your ear and gasped, throwing a hand to her mouth.

“Oh, are you on the phone with someone?” 

You looked up, pausing mid sentence as you were yacking away to Jenna. Abby had the look of curiosity mixed with confusion in her eyes, and you didn’t know how to respond to her question. Being in rush, like you always were, you thought of the best thing to say.

“Yeah, just talking to my friend Jenna.” You stated with a bland voice.

“Ah okay! Have a good lunch then!” Abby said before cheerily walking out of the room.

You watched her go before replying to Jenna, “Sorry about that, what was I saying before?”

Silence came from the other end of your phone which caused you to pull your phone off of your ear and look to see if you had accidentally hung up. You didn’t, so you were concerned about why you weren’t getting a response.

“Babe?” You asked again, now paying full attention to your phone.

“I’m your friend?” 

You winced at the harshness of her tone, leaning away from your phone slightly.

“I mean, yeah. You are more like my best friend.”

“But not your girlfriend.” Jenna deadpanned.

Suddenly it clicked for you, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at her.

“No, you are my girlfriend too.” You said, smiling at her jealousy.

“Clearly not as you just flirted with Gabby and said that I was your friend.” She growled as water from a sink ran in the background.

“First of all, her name is Abby. Second of all, I wasn’t flirting.” You explained, rolling your eyes, “You know I only have eyes for you.”

“Yeah? Then give aAbBy the phone and let me tell her that you are very much taken.” Jenna snarled, smoke practically coming out of your speaker.

“Mmm, maybe another day. I wanna keep arguing with you.” 

“Why?! So you can piss me off more?”

“Nah, it’s just hot when you get jealous.” 

“Y/N!!”

————————

you do not have permission to repost my work on any platform

[goingbuggy]

Hello! I’ve seen people on twitter joke about the film blue. What would you pitch for your peak film blue?

Hope your day is good 💖

Hi, anon! I love joking about Film Blue, too. It's fun to imagine a hypothetical counterpart to Film Red, but also I feed off delusion like a parasite anyway lol.

To answer your question, though, my ideal Film Blue would have actually been an alternate version of Film Red -- a world where Uta was found by Buggy instead of being raised by Gordon after the Elegia massacre. It's become a fanon idea to have Uta and Buggy interact, which I love, but I don't think this came about randomly; Buggy and Uta have a few fundamental similarities which make it possible to imagine a world where he could have raised her instead. And for the content of Film Red, which is in many ways a dissection of Shanks' morals, Buggy's involvement makes perfect sense.

Both Uta and Buggy are characters shaped by/caught in the fallout of Shanks' sacrifices for his perceived "greater good." In Uta's case, Shanks sacrificed his connection with her because he believed that she could better the world and live a happier life as a singer. So, when she accidentally caused the massacre on Elegia, Shanks shouldered the blame to protect her, but at the cost of their relationship. (I talk more in-depth about this in my "Shanks Savior Complex" meta.)

Buggy's case is more complex and admittedly does involve some speculation, but I think Shanks' passive response during the Loguetown split shows my point well enough. Shanks did want Buggy to stay by his side, but he did not fight for his own desires in that regard. We don't know why Shanks seemed so detached at the time, but it is my personal theory that this directly relates to Shanks' overarching goal in the series: to see out Roger's legacy. Again, it appears to be a situation where the "greater good" outweighs Shanks' own personal happiness, and thus causes him to sacrifice important relationships.

Shanks has an interesting duality to him -- he's a very level-headed decision-maker, but this is simultaneously what makes his interpersonal skills so subpar. ("Shanks isn't a mature guy," as Oda says.) Unlike Luffy, I'd argue that Shanks is not a very emotionally intelligent character; his strength comes from his extrapolation and attention to detail. He notices patterns and is thus able to foresee future events that others do not -- the war at Marineford being one such example. He sought out Whitebeard because he knew Ace's revenge plot could easily escalate out of control, and guess what? It did! However, his focus on details often leads him to neglect the "bigger picture," or the thing hiding in plain sight. Shanks' interactions with Blackbeard show this, too; Blackbeard was able to fly under Shanks' radar and ultimately scar him because he is a character always hiding in plain sight, waiting for the right moment to strike in such chaotic ways. Blackbeard is unpredictable.

But why does this matter? Well, Shanks also tends to inadvertently hurt those he cares about with his "rational" decision-making, without ever understanding why. He sacrificed his relationship with Uta for the betterment of the world and her own happiness, but failed to realize that his sacrifice is what damaged her the most. She became fixated on her own abandonment to the point that singing was no longer a source of joy, but rather a tool to rid the world of pirates -- the pirates who hurt people, just like Shanks hurt her.

Buggy is quite similar. Shanks gave up on Laughtale and his connection with Buggy for the sake of bettering the world, but this is what caused Buggy's mind to be ruled by bitter resentment and insecurity. He felt abandoned. And just like Uta, he was left in the dark as to the true reason why.

This is why I think Buggy would take in Uta as his own surrogate daughter, the same way Gordon did; he would see himself in Uta, and together, they would bond over their shared resentment. Hell, even Uta's original character design has this cotton candy-esque pink and blue dichotomy. Obviously, this is not intentional on Oda's part, but to me it's just another physical reminder of what could have been Uta's two main influences. Uta yearns for a better world like Shanks, yet that vision of the world has been warped by her own resentment/abandonment, like Buggy. Uta's head and heart feel ruled by Shanks and Buggy's principles respectively. It's great. And I think that potential is a bit wasted on Gordon, who is unfortunately a pretty one-note character.

I think the Uta-Buggy relationship would also perfectly balance out the Luffy-Shanks one. Luffy admires Shanks' way of life as a pirate, and this directly contrasts Uta, who was made into an expendable casualty because of that way of life (despite Shanks' best intentions). So, just as Luffy refused to see Uta's perspective in the actual Film Red, Buggy would cling to Uta's recount and refuse to see Shanks' side of things. Luffy and Buggy bounce off of each other so well in canon already, so a movie which pits them against each other due their differing views of Shanks would work well, in my opinion. Not only that, but it would be a good story that relates to a lot of Oda's wider messages -- namely, that history can easily be warped depending on the perspective you view it from.

[padfootagain]

Hold My Hand Instead of His

Hello everyone!! We're answering a request for my event today!

Here is the first request coming from two anons, actually, who have requested the same tropes: “Hiya! Can I request The Darkling Soulmate AU with an arranged marriage trope? But the reader is meant to get married to someone else? Can have a little bit of jealousy if you wish. Either that or enemies to lovers you choose” and “Hi carooole!!! Congrats for 6k!! I'm so happy when I see you on my TL again i've been following you since 2020 aaaa

I would like to request The Darkling, Soulmates AU and Arranged Marriage please !🫶

I hope you're having a good day and congratulations again <3”

I love this idea of an arranged marriage with someone else ifoeofueuojeji that’s amazing. I hope you like what I’ve written for your request, anon! <3

Hope you all like this. Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: The Darkling x Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff; I’m distorting canon rules of Grisha magic to apply to a Soulmate AU I hope you like it

Summary: You are engaged to the Prince of Ravka, through an arranged marriage, in order to pacify relations between Grisha and otkazat’sya. The issue: Nikolai Lantsov is not your soulmate, and you are torn between duty and love.

Word Count: 3554

The Darkling’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

What could happen if the world were to be devoured by shadows?

Sometimes, as you laid down at night, staring at the shining stars and moon, you asked yourself this question. Would it be the end? The beginning? The continuation? Would anything change?

You felt a little too lost in your life these days to be afraid of the shadows, of the blindness they carried. If you were so lost, weren’t you alone already?

Besides, these were his shadows. If anyone else could fear the dark because it was his, you felt the opposite.

Your gaze turned from the window to the door on the opposite wall. Why were you chosen to marry the prince anyway? Granted, you were a powerful Grisha, but there were others who could have done it, why did it have to be you?

You knew that Nikolai Lantsov was not your soulmate. There was no wonder about it. As a Grisha, your soulmate would be easy to detect: a simple touch and your powers would be amplified. A surge of power matching the rush of a heart. You had touched the prince before, had felt nothing. It wasn’t him…

Actually, you knew who was your soulmate. You had touched him once, without meaning to. While he was asleep, after a long day spent on a battlefield. You can see it all over again: the dry blood still tainting his forehead, the quiet of his breathing, the calmness on his features. He seemed so innocent then, so different from the man who had used his shadows against the world mere hours before. You remember as well the water you had been carrying to his tent, the reason for your presence in the first place. Because of course, you were a powerful Grisha, but he was The Darkling, a general, a leader, unreachable. You remember, though, the light shiver that shook his frame, the blanket that had fallen from his chest during his sleep. To this day, you didn’t know what had come over you that night, putting down your bucket of cold water, gently holding the blanket to cover his long frame once more. And it was an accident, really, a mere miscalculation of trajectory, when you brushed your fingers against his. And you remember the surge of power shaking your entire frame, making it hard to breathe, igniting every cell in your body. The sudden knowledge of your powers beating in your muscles at the same rhythm as your heartbeat. It was so strong, you could barely control your powers enough to not burn him, feeling flames surging to your hands. You were certain that the warmth escaping through every inch of your skin was warming the entire room. It felt like you could have burned the entire world…

It had taken you a long time to finally accept the truth that was revealed that night: the Darkling was your soulmate. Amplifying abilities could only happen between people bound by true love and fate alike, and that cold night spent on the verge of Fjerda, you had revealed an unbelieving truth. The Darkling was your soulmate. Your one true love.

Even now, you contemplated this fact with a tinge of bitterness. He was the Darkling, and you… it would be absolutely impossible for the two of you to be together. Now more than ever. You had been chosen to marry the prince of Ravka, it would strengthen the Grisha, protect them… you had worked hard to protect your people, you couldn’t abandon them simply because you were being a silly romantic. This wasn’t about love. This was about duty and the need of your people. Besides, it could have been worse. Nikolai wasn’t a bad man, marrying his brother would have been much closer to martyrdom.

These were the words you repeated yourself over and over again, every night since the announcement. And they were sensible and logical, but they did not prevent the aching in your chest, the tears at the corners of your eyes, or the urge to run across the Little Palace to the Darkling’s War Room to tell him the truth and beg him to take you away…

You closed your eyes, the world even darker than before. Against your eyelids, you painted his tall frame wrapped in his shadows, the dark of his infinite eyes, the sot beard on his cheeks. It was useless though, and terribly childish.

After all, how could the Darkling do anything against your union with Nikolai Lantsov? He didn’t even know you were his soulmate…

You didn’t know that he was your soulmate, and it was slowly killing him.

The Darkling looked at you now, dressed in the finest silk the kingdom of Ravka could offer. Your hand resting on Nikolai Lantsov’s arm, gloved in white fabric. He was showing you off, the bastard. He was playing his part in this political plot a little too well, took too much pleasure in parading with you by his side. And you were so unlike your true self. Too pliant, too obedient, smiling too politely. But Aleksander knew who you could be, this other side of you. The one covered with blood, the one burning like the flames ignited by your fingers and palms.

The Darkling was being ridiculous, and he knew it. He had worked too hard to reach this position, over the long hours of centuries, he had crafted his myth, his image, his power, his influence. And Nikolai Lantsov marrying a Grisha was a central part of his plot, it was vital, actually. It was a new step towards the throne…

But you… why did it have to be you?

He was being ridiculous, and he knew it. He had abandoned the idea of an everlasting love such a long time ago. Centuries ago. He had built an armour around his heart, he had grown as ruthless as his shadows, he had grown too determined to be drawn off-course by sentiments.

And yet, as he looked at you now, at the way you leaned against another man, he wanted to destroy the entirety of Ravka and the world beyond too, if need be. He wanted to tear the fabrics of the universe apart, and scream against the night sky.

The Darkling was selfish, and he knew it. And yet, his selfishness was always directed towards the same goal he had been pursuing for centuries, for lifetimes… he could not simply yield now. Of course he wanted you, you were connected by a power stronger than the Small Science he used as weapons and shields. Still… still he couldn’t simply yield, it would ruin everything.

Aleksander remembers, though. He remembers that afternoon, the clouds of smoke rising from the broken earth, the screams, the irony taste of blood in the air. He remembers looking for you, though he didn’t know why his instinct made him look for your frame across the battlefield. And yet, every fibre of his being was screaming at him to find you. He remembers the beating of his heart and his shallow breathing, the pain of his own wounds making his head spin. He remembers catching the colour of your hair there, lying in the dirt, his gaze moving to your closed eyelids… He remembers the sudden fear that shook him, even though he didn’t know why he felt that way. Because you were, of course, a powerful Inferni, he suspected that you were unusually gifted, and yet… you were just a soldier. Why was he so upset? He had seen thousands of people dying, thousands of his soldiers falling… why was it so different now? He remembers the way he had stumbled as he rushed to your side, falling by your side more than kneeling. Your still frame, your peaceful expression, you looked like you were merely asleep. He remembers too well the slow movement of his own fingers towards your throat, pressing against your pulse to feel your heart, and the surge of power that coursed through his frame, ignited his blood, sparkling every cell of his body. Such an overcoming beating of power in his heart, he didn’t control the shadows that sprang from his frame, that gathered from all around the two of you to cover both of your frames. He didn’t control it. He knew at once what it meant though. And his shadows pulsed, at the same rhythm as his own heart and, as he noticed your pulse, as your heart as well.

Two hearts. One heartbeat. Soulmates…

Aleksander looked away, focusing his dark eyes on the drink in his hands instead of your frame. This surge of power he had felt, unbearable, uncontrollable, too wild to be tamed… he knew what it meant, of course. When he was young, and naïve, and stupid, he had spent long decades looking for it. The reason of his failure then was obvious now. You did not exist yet, you were born centuries apart… how cruel the world could be, making him wait for so long, only to snatch you away…

The Darkling was being ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. For longing for you so much it hurt, for seriously considering walking over to you and lie about a need to see you alone, and kiss you in the safety of his shadows, with your back pressed against a wall and your skin under his palms…

But was he so ridiculous? He couldn’t help it, after all. If fate itself had weaved your two lives, your two souls together, how could he simply ignore it?

He could have laughed at himself for being naïve all over again, a boy who longed for a fairer world. Fairness didn’t exist, it wasn’t in human nature. Marriages had little to do with love at all when they involved the royal family. It was about politics, not sentiments.

But then, why did Aleksander felt your numb body in his arms all over again, the weight of your unconsciousness resting on his forearms as he carried you to safety that afternoon, the shallow warmth of your breath against his neck, as you turned to him and looked at him from across the crowd, catching his gaze with ease?

But then, why did he want nothing but to leave everything behind now, everything he had worked so hard on and had lost so much of his own self to reach, at the mere hope of running away with you?

But you didn’t know he was your soulmate. You were unconscious then, when he had touched your skin, you couldn’t feel the amplification held in his bones for you.

He turned around, his back to you now to relieve the temptation to stare at you for too long. The Darkling was patient, but Aleksander was selfish. Would he hold on, or tell you the truth?

The answer came with the breeze of spring and a kiss stolen by the lake.

It came from you, actually. From the feeling of warm lips against yours, and hands on your cheeks, and the sudden knowledge of a truth you had been pushing away out of duty.

You couldn’t do this.

You pulled away quickly, leaving a rather stunned Nikolai Lantsov behind. You didn’t look at him as you spun on your heels, as you ran away across the grass and towards the Little Palace. You didn’t look back as you spotted the Darkling there, under the trees, speaking with Ivan. You were crying, you realised it only because it made their frame a little blur. Still, you aimed straight for the Darkling, who frowned at the sight of you. He dismissed Ivan with a mere gesture of the hand, and walked towards you.

“Y/N? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

You wanted to rush into his arms, but didn’t dare to. Because he didn’t know you were his soulmate, and would notice if you touched his skin…

You were surprised when he held your upper-arm to steady you, though. But he was touching the fabric of your dress, you couldn’t feel the bond between the two of you…

“Y/N, what happened?”

You took a couple of deep breaths. You were being utterly ridiculous. You had fought battles, had killed people, had buried friends… this was a mere kiss, why did it upset you so much?

When you looked up at the Darkling, his expression was unreadable, a perfectly calm demeanour. There was but the ghost of a frown to show that he cared.

Did he care though? He didn’t know…

You couldn’t hold it back any longer. You had to tell him. Because he would probably push you away anyway, remind you of your duty towards Ravka, towards your fellow Grisha, and break your heart for good. And then, perhaps you could accept your arranged marriage with the prince…

“I can’t do it,” you let out in a breath, shaking your head. “I am sorry, but I cannot do it. I can’t marry Lantsov.”

The Darkling’s frown deepened, he leaned a little closer, his eyes searching yours, digging their way into your mind and heart until he could peer right into your soul.

“Did he hurt you? What happened?”

“He didn’t hurt me, he…”

You took a shaky breath, closed your eyes tightly for a moment, trying to release the words and hold back a sob.

“He kissed me.”

When you opened your eyes again, fell back into the gaze as dark as the shadows they summoned, you couldn’t read through them. Aleksander had clenched his jaw, but he was still as unreadable as ever.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do it… I can’t marry him…”

“Y/N, calm down. This is important.”

“I have a soulmate.”

His lips parted slightly, but he remained silent, frozen in expectation. His hold on your arm tightened, it was the only movement he made until you spoke again.

You wondered where your strength came from as you finally confessed the truth, you didn’t think you had it in you. Even if your voice was but a weak whisper, the words were let out, audible and clear, lifting a heavy weight from your shoulders and heart.

“It’s you. You’re my soulmate.”

You shook your head, eyes begging for forgiveness, even if none of this was your fault in the first place.

“I’m sorry. I… one day I touched you without meaning to while you slept, just… just your finger and… I felt it. The amplifying. And I… I didn’t tell you, because I know that you are focused on your task concerning Ravka, that this is not your priority, that you probably don’t even care but… You’re my soulmate. And I can’t marry another man, I simply can’t. I’ll fight as hard as I can, I’ll risk my life, I’ll kill and do whatever needs to be done, but as a soldier. Please… please, help me. Help me not marry him. I cannot marry someone else when I love you so deeply. I am not asking for anything else, I simply…”

Your voice died down as his hold on your kefta tightened, becoming almost painful, the hold unforgiving.

His stare was even more intense now, if that was even possible. You read hesitation in them, something you had never seen before on him…

His eyes fell from your gaze to your mouth, intense and holding you hostage, making your heart jump and crash against your ribcage. When his eyes flickered back to rest on yours, he was out of breath as he spoke.

“I know.”

You could only stare at him, stunned. You could feel your heart shattering…

“Do you remember when you were wounded in the South? About a year ago?”

Slowly, you nodded.

“I am the one who found you, unconscious, lying among the dead. I checked your pulse.”

“Oh…”

The ghost of an amused smile tugged at his lips.

“’Oh’, indeed.”

Slowly, you nodded. Because he knew, and yet he had done nothing to prevent this marriage.

“I thought you didn’t know,” he went on. “I thought it was better that way.”

“Because I must marry Nikolai to help the Grisha?”

But he was too earnest in his answer, his hand slowly rising to your cheek, but he didn’t touch you. Instead, he let his hand hover over your face, close enough to feel the heat of your skin, but still away, unbearably so.

“Because I do not want to have weaknesses. And loving you would turn you into a weakness.”

Again, you nodded, although you were more lost than ever.

“I can’t marry Nikolai,” you breathed again, the tears coming back into your eyes.

“If you do not, Ravka will be endangered, and Grisha more than anyone else.”

You looked down at your feet, the weight of duty too heavy on your shoulders now, despite the strength in them, the endurance of a soldier.

Aleksander could not bear the sight. Beyond duty, your frame was crushed by another burden he knew only too well, after carrying it for so many centuries.

Loneliness…

If he caved in, you would never have to be alone again, and neither would he…

Slowly, he closed the space between your two skins, his hand coming to rest on your cheek, guiding gently your face upward to look at him again. And the power that coursed through your bodies now was so intense, so overwhelming, that you couldn’t help the flames that sparked in the air all around you, and he couldn’t master the shadows that twirled around your frames. Fire and darkness mingled in a whirlwind that covered the world, made you escape from it. It was a strange dance on your features, the burning lights of flames dancing with his shadows in your eyes…

The decision was easy to make.

He leaned down before you could move, or speak, or master your powers again. Only when his lips moved over yours, when you lost yourself in his touch, when he melted under your palms and pressed himself against you, did your powers calm down. You felt the warmth of the sun against your face instead of the heat of flames, the constant light of the distant star painting your eyelids red instead of the unsteady black of his twirling shadows. And there was no thought left to be thought, no breath to be drawn, no duty to cave under. Instead, there was the passion of Aleksander’s kiss, the gentle tug of your fingers on his hair, the tingle of his beard against your soft skin. There was nothing in the world but the two of you, feelings overwhelming, and at the back of your mind, still, the knowledge of immense power waiting to be freed.

When you broke apart, both of you out of breath, Aleksander pulled away just enough to look at you again, to capture your gaze with his, making your heart stutter all over again.

“Do not marry him.”

You stopped breathing altogether as the words passed his lips. He slowly shook his head. His hold on your face tightened a little, he moved a little closer, and his voice was dangerously tempting, almost begging, when he spoke again.

“I can take care of this,” he assured you, his tone sounding like a promise. “I can make him back down. We are soulmates, this is our right…”

“But what about Grisha…”

“Lantsov can marry someone else. He chose you because he had a crush on you, he will get over it and choose someone else.”

“Do you really mean that?”

He smiled.

“We are soulmates. Do you not know the answer already?”

And as you stared at him for a little longer, you did. You knew he meant it. You could see it in his dark eyes, in the tension of his jaw, feel it in the way he held you a little too tight, a little too close, a tinge of desperation searing cracks through his perfect composure.

One of his hands let go of you, and he offered it, palm up and open, an offering of weakness and vulnerability.

“Choose me,” he demanded in a breathy whisper. “I’ll manage Lantsov, I’ll get you out of this marriage. We could be together. We can fight. Choose me. Hold my hand instead of his. Share your heart with me, not with him. Y/N…”

He fell silent as you took his hand, as you pulled him down to kiss him again, passionate and breathtaking.

He smiled into the kiss, he couldn’t help it. Because of your lips against his, because of the love you shared, because of the relief coursing through his entire frame after finally surrendering to the feelings he had held back for months, because of the shushing of its constant loneliness under your palms, because of the power you released into his body by a simple caress…

Aleksander was selfish, after all, and he would have you, if you chose him. He would do without this alliance with the Lantsov family. He didn’t need it. Instead of political leverage, you were now offering a power of his own.

He broke the kiss, held you close to him, rested his lips against your hair. Yes, he would have you. And if need be, he’d take the light out of this entire world, while you burned it to the ground.

[attic-club-sandwich]

Heya, 🌹 anon again :)

I'm just popping in to ask for some more comfort stuff if possible. Life's been hectic lately and I kind of fell back into a depressive state. It's one that'll pass, but sucks in the meantime.

Anyway, I was wondering if I could request a lil something something about the obey me cast finding an mc who was crying late at night? (Like 3am late). Maybe they wandered into a different room to look out at the stars/nature or went to the room/house of being in question for a hug? Idk, up to you

Thank you!

- 🌹

Hello my dear 🌹 anon, it's so nice to hear from you again! I am so sorry you've been feeling down lately. I really hope that this helps and i'm sending you good vibes and lots of hugs! Thank you for being patient as I worked on this too. I hope that you enjoy! Please feel free to send in a request anytime.

I am sticking with the main brothers for now, but if you (or anyone else) has any requests for the other characters i'd be glad to write for them as well 💜

Meetings in the Moonlight

Content Warnings: Just mild themes of anxiety and a mention of body image.

gn!MC x the brothers

Taglist: @amberrskiies, @obey-me-posts, @sassykattery, @delphi-dreamin, @flemmingbamse, @a-hidden-gem @otomefoxystar @todothedodo @marvelous-maniac @nonbinary-disaster @selfmadender @animeismyhappyplace @vampire-tr4mp @ana-dear @gaychaosgremlin @sidgethegamer @temnuk0 @starshineandbooks @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf

See my Obey Me! Works Masterlist for more!

Fill out this form to be added to my tag list!

Lucifer:

You lay in bed one night after a particularly rough day at RAD.

Your dreams are full of failing grades painted in angry red, dancing across the yellowing pages of your most recent exam.

Tossing in turning eventually turns into frustrated signs.

Grabbing your blanket, you quietly tip toe down the hallway and find yourself in the music room of the House of Lamentation.

You flip through the many records Lucifer has collected over his time in the Devildom

Being very careful to avoid the cursed ones of course.

You settle on a classic, one of Lucifer's favorite non-cursed records friendly enough for human ears.

He always plays it for you when you are feeling down.

As you curl up on the chaise lounge, you find your eyes welling up with tears, and you try to blink them away.

Suddenly, you hear a voice.

"MC?"

You jump slightly. "L-Lucifer? What are you doing here?"

His brow furrows as he notices the tears that roll down your cheeks.

"I heard music playing, and I thought it might be you in here."

He glances at the record, smiling slightly.

"I must say, you have excellent taste. However, it's 3:00 a.m. Care to tell me why you are in here all alone?"

He pauses, waiting for your answer as he reaches out to wipe away a tear.

"...And in tears, no less?"

You glance down, swiftly wiping away the tears as if he hasn't already noticed.

"Its nothing, Luci. I just couldn't sleep."

Lucifer sighs, sitting down beside you and pulling you close to him.

His warmth is comforting, and you nuzzle your face into his chest.

His grip on you tightens, and you find yourself being gently laid down so your head positions itself comfortably in his lap.

"Then sleep, my darling. You can tell me all about it in the morning."

You sigh as your eyelids grow heavy. The feeling of Lucifer's gentle hands running through your hair allowing you to finally relax into a deep sleep.

Mammon

You find yourself awake in the middle of the night. Again.

It always seems to be something.

This time it's the dull throb of your head that has you awake.

You've been very stressed out lately balancing the chaos of the demon brothers as well as RAD.

You groan, rubbing your temples. You need some air.

You crawl out of bed, grabbing one of his hoodies and pulling it on.

It smells like him.

It brings comfort to you. But it's nothing like the real thing.

You crack open your door, squinting your eyes in the dim light of the hallway.

Making your way up the stairs, you begin to wonder if he'd be awake at this hour.

Finally, you find yourself standing outside his door. You can hear the faint sound of music playing.

He must be awake.

You knock, hoping he'll hear it over the music.

To your surprise, the door opens rather quickly.

"Oi, MC? Whaddya doin' up this late?"

At the sight of your silver haired demon, you begin to tear up, and you begin to tremble as the tears roll down your cheeks.

"M-Mams... i'm sorry to bother you... i just.."

Mammon's eyes widen, surprised by your sudden outburst.

"H-Hey now, don't go cryin' on me! Come here."

You feel yourself being pulled into the room and into the warm embrace of the Avatar of Greed.

You inhale a shuddering breath.

"S-Sorry... I just..needed this." you murmur, burying your face into his chest.

Mammon hums, rubbing circles on your back.

"s'okay. You can always come to your favorite demon any time ya need to."

You can't help but giggle through the tears.

"Let's go get ya comfy in bed. I'm gettin' kinda sleepy too now that you're here."

Leviathan

Your eyes are puffy as you wipe away what seems like an infinite amount of tears.

You've been up most of the night crying in your room.

The anxiety that plagues your mind on the daily has finally gotten the best of you.

Worries of if you're good enough, if you truly belong here in the Devildom.

Every little mistake you made that day coming back to haunt you.

It eats away at you, causing your stomach to hurt and a dull ache in your chest

You were just about to lay back down and try to sleep when you hear a soft knock on your door.

"MC? Are you awake? Do you want to come to my room and watch a movie with me? I can't sleep."

It's Levi's voice.

The anxiety in your stomach transforms into butterflies.

"Y-Yeah sure, be out in a second!" you call, your voice trembling.

Before you can make a move, you hear the click of your door opening.

"MC, are you okay? You sound..."

Levi peeks his head in, spotting you sitting in bed with puffy eyes and a runny nose.

"H-Hey, what's wrong?!"

He's at your side in a second, unsure if it's okay to touch you.

"I-I'm fine Levi..." you sniff, wiping away more tears.

Levi's amber eyes glow in the low light of your room.

"B-But you're crying?? It doesn't seem fine..."

You shake your head, reaching out to gently grasp his hand.

"It's better now that you're here."

Levi blushes, "N-No way, all I did was creepily show up here at your door in the middle of the night!"

Suddely you feel yourself being pulled off the bed.

Levi is gripping your hand now, pulling you out the door and down the hallway.

You find yourself in his bathtub, nestled between his legs with your back resting against his torso.

"Now let's watch a movie until we're too tired, okay?"

Satan

It's 1:00 am and you somehow managed to end up in the House of Lamentation library again.

You've been having trouble sleeping again.

Your classes at RAD are difficult this semester, and you haven't found the best study method yet.

You sit at the desk, flipping through the pages of your text book,.

Frustration begins to build in your chest.

You have absolutely no idea how you are going to retain any of this.

The all too familiar lump forms in your throat.

The tell tale sign that you're about to cry.

You slam the book shut and rub your eyes with your palms.

They come back wet with tears.

You can't stop the tears from coming now that they've started.

As you cry, you think you hear the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway.

But maybe it was just your imagination.

You rest your head in your arms, your shoulders trembling.

You jump slightly as you feel a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"MC. Shh, now. It's just me."

You lift your head to see the Avatar of Wrath standing over you, his emerald eyes filled with concern.

"S-Satan... I-I'm sorry..."

He pulls a chair over next to you, shaking his head.

"What ever do you have to be sorry about?"

You glance down at your lap, nervously fidgeting with your hands.

"B-Because I promised I would do better on my next exam. But i can't understand any of this..."

Satan rests his chin in his hand, reaching out with the other to wipe your tears away.

"You're doing way better than you give yourself credit for. And 1:00 in the morning isn't the best time to be trying to study."

You sniff, glancing up at him. He's right.

He stands up, the sound of the wooden chair sliding across the floor disturbing the silence of the library.

"Come now, it's past your bedtime. Tomorrow I'll show you my secret to acing all of these damned exams."

You give him a small smile as you wipe away the remaining tears.

He grabs your hand, squeezing it as he leads you out of the room.

"Are you in the mood for a bedtime story? I've got the perfect one picked out."

Asmodeus

You rub your eyes, hoping to rid yourself of the overwhelming fatigue

Sleep refuses to come, and it's getting frustrating.

You were supposed to go out with Asmo to a club tonight, but you told him you weren't feeling well.

Which wasn't entirely a lie.

He had insisted to stay and take care of you, but you had also insisted that he go and have fun.

If you were being honest, you weren't in the mood to be perceived by anyone tonight.

You hated how you looked in any outfit you put on.

And you couldn't seem to fix that one hair that refuses to stay in place

Instead, you were now curled up in Asmo's bed, tears threatening to spill over.

As you inhale his scent on the blankets, you hit the wall.

Tears begin to leak down your cheeks, staining his satin pillow.

Your shoulders tremble, and your eyes squeeze shut.

You aren't sure how long you've been laying like this, but you hear footsteps approaching the bedroom door.

Oh no, did one of the brothers hear me?

You quickly sit up, trying to wipe away all evidence of you crying.

To your suprise, The Avatar of Lust himself is back early.

"A-Asmo!" you squeak, pulling the blankets up to your chin.

"MC, darling, are you okay?" he is by your side now, pulling you into him.

You sniff, shaking your head.

He frowns, stroking your hair. "I knew I made the right choice by coming home early."

You blink at him. "What do you mean?"

He gives you a small smile and winks. "I just had a feeling. I couldn't stand the idea of you here all by yourself feeling sick."

You begin to cry again, wrapping your arms around him. "T-Thank you..."

He hums, rubbing your back as you cry.

"There, there my sweet little MC. I'm here. Shall we go get a bath? I have the perfect scent of bubble bath that will relax you and put us both right to sleep."

You calm down a little at the suggestion, and he helps you up out of bed. He grabs a silky robe from his closet on the way.

Before heading into the bathroom, he pulls you in, planting a soft kiss to your lips.

"Ready, darling? I'll be sure you're feeling better by the end of our time together this evening ♡"

Beelzebub

At some point, you had fallen asleep on the couch in the living room of the House of Lamentation.

As you blink awake, you notice the fire has gone out in the fireplace.

You shiver, the heat now gone and the room darker than you'd like it to be.

You start to remember how you ended up here.

The brothers had called you down for dinner, but you weren't hungry.

The day you had at RAD kept your mind reeling with anxiety.

After everyone had went to bed, you wandered downstairs, needing a change of scenery since sleep didn't seem to be happening.

You had curled up on the couch... and that's the last thing you remember.

Now you sit, alone in the dark. Your eyes sting with tears.

You really didn't want to be alone right now.

Bringing your knees to your chest, you begin to weep.

I should just get up and go back to bed, you think.

But you can't bring yourself to move.

Suddenly, you hear footsteps.

You lift your head, trying to glance around in the darkness.

"MC? Are you in here?"

A voice.

"B-Beel?" you squeak.

He comes around the side of the couch, spotting you sitting all alone.

"Hey. Are you ok?"

You shiver again, nodding.

He frowns, walking over to the fireplace and muttering an incantation under his breath.

His hand holds out over the fireplace, and suddenly it sparks to life again, lighting up the room.

"There, that's better." he sits down beside you. "What's wrong MC? Are you hungry? You missed dinner..."

His own stomach growls, causing a laugh to bubble up in your chest.

"N-No... well maybe a little. But i'm glad you're here."

He smiles, reaching out to grab your hand.

"Are you up for a snack? I can go get something and bring it to you."

You give him small smile. "Y-Yeah. That sounds good."

When he comes back, he has snacks in hand, and hands you a warm cup of tea.

He curls up next to you on the couch, and you lean into him.

"Thank you, Beel."

He smiles, leaning in to give you a small peck to the forehead.

"You're welcome. I can't have you going hungry and sitting all alone in the dark."

After your snacks, your eyelids are feeling heavy again.

It's almost as if Beel can read your mind.

"Come on MC, let's go to my room and get some sleep. Maybe Belphie will join us too."

He gently scoops you into his arms and you close your eyes, allowing the gentle swaying lull you to sleep.

Belphegor

You wake from a particularly awful nightmare.

Sweat coats your skin, leaving you feeling damp while the fear still lingers in your chest.

You sit up, rubbing your eyes.

You need some air.

Trying to be quiet, you sneak out the door and find yourself in the courtyard.

The cool air hits your hot skin, and you breath out a sigh of relief.

You've always found it peaceful out here, especially at night.

Usually you find solace in the stars, they bring you comfort.

However, images of the nightmare still haunt you.

You sit, wrapping the blanket you had brought with you around your shoulders.

You stare off into the night, memories of your nightmare taking over your vision.

You begin to cry, fighting to will yourself to think of something else.

Fresh, hot tears roll down your cheeks, not doing anything to help your already burning skin.

You don't notice that somebody else has also joined you outside.

"MC, are you okay?"

Startled by the sudden voice, you turn around to see Belphegor.

He must have sensed you had a nightmare again.

"B-Belphie, you s-scared me." you stutter, trying to wipe away your tears.

"You had a nightmare again." he states, sitting down next to you in the grass.

You nod, turning your gaze from him.

"I was trying to find you, but you were already gone from your room. ButI 'm here now, it's okay." He soothes, bringing you into a tight hug.

You let out another sob as you wrap your arms around him.

He rubs circles on your back, allowing you to cry into his shoulder.

"Did you see the stars tonight? They are extra bright. I think they knew that you needed comfort."

You glance up at the sky, noticing that they do appear to be brighter than usual.

You smile, taking his hand and squeezing it.

"You and the stars are always here for me."

He chuckles, bringing your hand up to place a delicate kiss on the back.

"Of course. And my love for you is infinite, just like the stars."

After awhile, you begin to yawn.

Which causes Belphie to yawn too.

"I think that's our sign to go back to bed." you giggle.

Belphie smiles, helping you up off of the ground.

"Let's go cuddle and fall asleep together. It's way past my bedtime."

[spirk-trek]

Hey so, it's me. The debbie-downer vaguing you in the spirk tag. I didn't mention you directly because my post wasn't directed at you, although it was made in response to checking some of your posts because I do have Unification in my filtered list (content and tag), so those fanworks? Behind a button, so my choice to look is all my own. (I didn't send the anon, though. That was someone else, sorry to say.) It sucks that that's how tumblr's system works but yay content filtering! Tumblr didn't always have that.

I didn't make that post to start drama, and I'm not the sort to get my kicks by being a contrarian for opposition's sake (like. I'm a Shatner fan. In a lot of online Star Trek spaces, I might as well say I hate K/S or Leonard Nimoy or kick puppies in my spare time, you know?), but I did make it in anger and for that I apologize. I should have waited longer on it to phrase things better or simply have deleted it from my drafts after typing it out. (But it's out there now and I'll live with it.)

I do understand where the joy of connecting the past to the present comes from (as a lot of your posts do with connecting old and new fanworks together), and that a lot of people are celebrating the Unification short as a culmination of 50+ years of K/S despite their initial separation according to the initial story, but for me (personally! I want to stress that. It's just me and my own opinion here), I keep seeing it as a valuing of what a company is finally offering fans rather than the celebration of fans who saw where K/S's story ended at the time, rejected that ending that was offered by the corporation, and made their own ending for K/S, without looking towards any official channels as a guide for their visions. That's what my post was about, where my anger was from, those questions--what becomes lost in fandom if we accept canon from the corporation that holds the copyright? What does it say if we look towards that same canon as being above what fandom has already envisioned? In a fandom as old as Star Trek's, one that laid so much groundwork that we take for granted, to overlook that worries me.

I suppose the biggest issue here is it's too similar, like a reflection in a mirror: on one side, Unification stands as the canonization of what the fandom has envisioned all along. It culminates. On the other, Unification appears as a bone tossed to finally appease fans who have seen K/S from the start and it feels too little, too late. Ironically enough, the short has seemingly managed to divide people, but it's too early to tell how lasting such a division could be.

Hopefully I've cleared the air by this. Unification clearly is not my cup of tea and I'm honestly not trying to ruin anyone's fun (most of my posts have gone untagged for a reason but I forget tumblr still parses for post content to index. Yikes. That post was tagged, though, because it was a snap decision made in anger and I wanted my thoughts to be seen). One could argue the short wasn't even made for me as I've long wondered if I will watch Generations because I've read the summary and didn't like it. But that's the joy of fandom and transformative works. We can look at the story and pick our favorite parts and rewrite the ones we don't like. If we didn't do that, fandom wouldn't exist, or it would but it wouldn't be as much fun.

Sorry for the essay in your inbox and for causing any confusion and hurt. I hope you've had a great day 💛

i'm not going to lie, it does hurt a little. i wasn't going to answer this publicly but i don't have the time today to have a private convo and i don't want you to think i deleted it or ignored it, so here we are.

i don't think unification made spirk any more canon than tmp did. i don't think the short was made with k/s in mind at all, even as a bone to toss starving shippers. star trek at large was never intended as a love story between them, but people have always seen it anyway. 

i'm conflicted about the use of nimoy's likeness too. despite that, i think that they did it as respectfully as they could have and involved the right people. it was a goodbye, not using him for a cheap cameo or advertising purposes (yes i know it was an "ad" like everything is, but it's not like spock holds up a coke at the end). you can disagree with me, and i understand your point of view. that's why i said i understood where that anon was coming from. 

what i see is william shatner and others taking a story that ended in a way that was disrespectful to both characters, one of which he himself has been playing for the majority of his life, and trying to fix that. it doesn't mean there's no corporate greed involved. both can be true. at least they posted it on youtube, they didn't premiere it or put it behind a paywall. it was just eight minutes, and less than a quarter of that had nimoy's face in it. my favorite part of the whole thing was seeing tos kirk meet his future selves. i love that even though they both die out of their times, they find each other in the end. 

i don't want to be an activist or defend or endorse anything, i just... 

those zines i tagged were 1) a poem by della van hise that was so accurate to the short that others were already reblogging it (i posted it weeks ago). i found it super interesting that she wrote a poem about them meeting again in death before tmp/wok even came out, let alone this short. 2) i was gushing about unification in the tags. 3) another poem about being side by side, which again, i found incredibly relevant. the other one i posted was because it went well with the others visually. it has nothing to do with unification other than the fact that spock is laying down. 

this has just made me sad tbh. i'm not angry and i love your analysis/fan work so much, so :( idk, i don't want anything i post to be divisive or disrespectful. i wasn't even worried about that before. i just really needed a win and maybe i clung to that a little too hard :/

[elsfavor1te]

some short hc’s maybe of ellie x reader being in a MESSY situationship… constantly trying to be seen with other people to make the other jealous, late night calls, all that. love your writing 🤍

BLURRED LINES.

warnings: collegeau!ellie williams x fem!reader. messy friends with benefits situation. ellie is mentioned as being possessive and toxic but i don’t think she really acts toxic, jus a little possessive. 18+ smut! strap is mentioned, (r receiving). jealous!ellie, jealous!reader, mutual pining, fluffy ending with a bit of angst if you squint, lmk if i forgot anything!

this was fun to write, thanks for the ask anon. <333 (just realized you said short… i hope this is okay😭.

what happened between you and ellie was supposed to be a one time thing. you got high together and fucked, so what?

then one time became two.. and two turned into whenever you both felt like it. of course you both agreed not to catch feelings for the other (as if that shit ever works out).

you didn’t have feelings for her though, you don’t think. and you’re almost positive ellie doesn’t have feelings for you. she’s just—possessive and a toxic asshole.

a possessive and toxic asshole who knows how to make you needy with just a glance.

anyways as it does when anyone is in a friends with benefits relationship in the history of like forever, lines got blurred.

it started with little shit like bringing a plus one to a shitty college party that you knew she’d be at. you’d always deny it if anyone asks but you loved seeing that little glint she got in her eye when you were grinding back against someone in the middle of someone’s dingy kitchen, stepping on the occasional red solo cup.

you knew it made her jealous (if that’s the right word to use?) from the way your conversations went the next time you texted her, wanting to hook up.

‘you free tn?’

‘that bitch with the purple hair not fucking my girl well enough? come over.’

you loved when she called you her girl. it made your stomach erupt in butterflies and your mind swirl in silly ‘what ifs’.

that night when you did come over, ellie was different. not in a bad way by any means.

the way she had your ankle up by her ear as her purple strap pounded you into the mattress was nothing short of heavenly. she’d bend down to whisper in your ear, folding you like a fucking pretzel in the process. “she can’t fuck you like this, hmm?”

you would just moan, back arching into her at the new angle. you never had sex with that girl but if it kept you getting fucked like this? ellie never had to know that.

“answer my fucking question.” her hand would slap your thigh, leaving it burning before she’d soothe her hand over it.

“no- fuck,” you’d whimper, looking up at her with big glassy eyes. “just you els. no one can fuck me like you can.”

she’d be satisfied with that answer.

———

other times it’s the occasional late night facetime. you’d be up already, working on assignments because you’re never caught up.

“hey els. what’s up?” you’d speak into the phone, propping up your phone on your laptop so she could see you.

you looked a mess, messy bun, tank top hanging off of one shoulder and no bra. to ellie you were the prettiest like this— or alternatively when you had just cum and had that relaxed glow as she cleaned you both up.

“nothin, can’t sleep. wanted to call and see if you were awake too.”

your eyebrows furrow, “you always seem tired lately, you okay?”

“m’fine,” she’d laugh gently at your expression. “you worrying about me, sweet girl?”

“mm,” you hum. “just need to make sure my booty call is fully rested.”

it was your turn to laugh now at her faux shocked face. “jus kidding. you were my bestfriend before the whole sex thing of course i worry about you.”

ellie’s would swear her heart tried to jump out of her chest when you said that. “come over.”

“el, i have so much work to do before my class tomorrow.”

“bring it. no sex i promise, just me nd you like before. you can sleepover when you’re done.”

you didn’t need much convincing other than that, starting to pack your stuff into your backpack. ellie would make you stay on the phone as you walked the 3 minutes to her dorm room. she would ask if she could come pick you up instead, then you could walk back together but you denied so she had to settle for this.

———

your heart would clench painfully when she posted one of her usual photo dumps but somewhere buried in there’s a picture of her smiling with some girl kissing her cheek. she looked happy, and her cheeks were that pretty pink color. you would try and think if you ever made her smile like that.

unbeknownst to you, ellie threw that picture in just for you to see it. to throw out some feelers to see if you felt the same way as her, if you’d approach her about it. in reality that was just her friend dina, completely platonic relationship considering shes with her other friend, jesse.

what she didn’t expect was for you to ghost her for a week and a half to the point where she had to show up at your dorm. her eyes would be low and red, needing the courage in the form of weed.

when you opened the door, you’d kind of freeze, not expecting her to be on the other side.

“why are you ignoring me?”

you took notice of her high state, “you’re high.”

“no shit. i’m always high. why are you ignoring my texts?” she would step around you and into your dorm room.

“yes that’s fine, just come in.” you muttered under your breath. “i’m not ignoring you..i’m busy. you know how much i procrastinate. and you’re not always high. don’t say it like that.”

the truth was that you were scared, ridiculously so. after seeing the picture you started to wonder if ellie was out of your league, sure you’re bestfriends and sure you’re having sex but that’s it.

that lead to the realization that you wanted more. you wanted more than casual sex and the occasional hangout. you couldn’t tell her this though. being her bestfriend, you’ve seen the way she breaks hearts, you didn’t wanna be just another girl to her.

“so what? you’ve procrastinated all of your life and you’ve always atleast made the effort to tell me you’d be busy for the week so what the hell is it?”

“ellie.”

your name fell from her lips mockingly.

“can we just not? i don’t wanna talk about it.”

she sits down in your desk chair, turning it to face you and pulling you by the backs of your thighs between her legs. “did i do something?”

you look away, fearing that she may be able to look through your eyes and read your mind.

“look at me.” she’d move one of her hands from your thigh to turn your face back to her. the one hand she left on you felt as if it was burning through the material of your pants and making your stomach swirl. “you remember why you said our friendship has lasted so long? because we communicate. communicate with me, babe.”

you gazed into her attentive green eyes, gently biting on your bottom lip nervously as you debate on telling her the truth. you didn’t know if you were ready to lose your bestfriend to something as silly as catching feelings.

you go against the rationality your brain is screaming at you. “i think- i think i’m in love with you.”

your heart drops and your eyes start to well with tears when she doesn’t say anything and just kind of stares at you.

“i know— i know we said we wouldn’t catch feelings and i’m sorry.” your voice breaks. “i—“

you’re cut off by the feeling of ellie’s lips crashing onto yours. at first you’re shocked and kind of frozen in place but then you move, opening your mouth slightly for her tongue to slip in.

“you— you love me?” she asks, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath.

you nod gently, confused at what’s happening.

“i love you. and i can’t believe you fucking folded before i did.”

————

sidenote, this is so them. reader is blue and ellie is grey.

[ryuichirou]

Do you have any headcanons for your genderswapped twst ships?? Doesn't really matter which ones

I do, Anon! And you’re cruel, because I want to talk about everyone, and I am very bad at picking one option… So I ended up writing one hc for a bunch of ships. I don’t think I skipped any of our absolute favourite ones, but I definitely didn’t cover all the ships we love :( Sigh!

If you want to hear more about any of them, let me know! But also, feel free to read previous hcs posts about the girlies: 1, 2, 3.

Also! Some are horny, some of them are not, keep that in mind please.

Alright, so…

Azul/Idia – while Azul complains about Idia always wearing baggy “boy-ish” clothes, she actually enjoys it on some level; sometimes she expects Idia to open doors for her, sometimes she hugs her arm when they walk together, it’s like she automatically figures that she herself is “the lady” in their relationship with Idia. Which is a concept that only exists in Azul’s head: Idia knows that Azul isn’t a lady at all. All of the “girly” things she does are very performative, and in actuality, Azul is very dominant, bossy and not gentle at all! She is an aggressive beast that loves to fuck tomboys…

Jade/Idia – during their housewarden+vice-housewarden meetings, Idia sometimes watches Jade as she writes down things and gives Azul documents and forms and stuff. Is it because Jade is just that beautiful? Yeah, but not necessarily in a good way – to Idia, Jade feels otherworldly, but also kind of terrifying. Like a beauty from a horror movie. Since Idia watches everyone through her tablet, she feels safe when staring at Jade (she would’ve been scared to look at her irl), but one time Jade looked straight into the camera, and Idia got startled and fell from her chair. For some reason she felt the good kind of goosebumps at the same time…

Floyd/Idia – one time Idia was careless enough to mumble something about Jade being perfect for a cosplay of a certain character. She thought she said it very quietly, but Floyd did hear her, and immediately asked about what kind of character would be perfect for her, instantly adding that Idia can’t pick the same one she chose for Jade. Idia panicked and said that she needed some time to think about it… hoping that Floyd would just forget about it, but she kept appearing out of nowhere and asking this question for a couple of weeks. Sometimes she would show up with her buttons undone and without a bra or panties, as if that would inspire Idia to give her an answer. Idia never felt so intimidated before..!

Floyd/Riddle – one time they had a physical fight that turned too horny. Of course, Floyd wasn’t giving it her all because in terms of physical strengths she could easily snap Riddle in half, for the most part she was just having fun. But the way Riddle squeezed her thigh with her own thighs and aggressively rubbed against it, the way she grabbed her shirt and ripped it open, the way she bit her neck and viciously sucked on it (to make it hurt more, clearly) made it pretty obvious that poor Riddle doesn’t quite understand what she wants from Floyd. Of course, she punched and slapped her face a couple of times too, but that doesn’t make the situation any less horny! Well, Floyd did bite her ass (literally) as a revenge, but the moment she grabbed her between the legs, Riddle squealed, kicked her off (with a heel!) and ran away. What the hell was that? Mixed messages…

Trey/Riddle – Riddle is one of the few people in their dorm that isn’t aware (and doesn’t suspect) that Trey is into girls. To the majority of people it’s pretty obvious, but Riddle has absolutely no idea. It’s not like Riddle would react in a bad way, but whenever she casually says shit like “it is too early for us to worry about husbands anyway”, Trey’s brain melt a little bit. She only sees her future with Riddle…

Ace/Deuce – they are “those two girls”, the ones that are always fighting, but also so close that it’s almost like they’re… you know. They are more likely than their boy versions to push that semi-playful flirty thing, and it’s always Ace who initiates it. She pokes Deuce’s boob with a pen, lifts her skirt, “accidentally” ends up in suggestive poses with her, makes jokes that take a couple of moment for Deuce to get (then she gets red and mad), and all of that is just them messing around of course. Nothing serious, for sure…

Jack/Deuce – when they kissed for the first time, Jack grabbed Deuce’s waist and lifted her up so their faces would be on the same level. Deuce got so surprised by that (her feet were barely touching the floor!), she whimpered in the kiss, and Jack got immediately embarrassed and put her back down. Both liked it a lot and felt hot because of that, but were too awkward to do it again…

Kalim/Jamil – Kalim is so innocent it’s very difficult for Jamil to think about the fact that one day she’ll start having sex and even worse, producing babies. The second part is so terrifying that Jamil prefer not to think about it at all, but even just the first part makes her very frustrated somehow. Is she angry about it? Somehow, imagining Kalim with someone like that feels very wrong, and Jamil’s frustrated mind makes her dream about Kalim doing things to her body instead. Jamil woke up all sweaty and with a blanket squeezed tightly between her thighs. 

Azul/Jamil – despite her busy schedule, there are moments when Azul has some free time and goes to see Jamil play basketball. She is always very clearly rooting for Jamil and Jamil only, as if she is the only one playing, and Jamil finds it annoying… Oh, is she distracting you, Jamil-san? By being a cute little cheerleader? Also, did I mention that Azul likes tomboys already?

Rook/Vil – when Vil gets mad, sometimes squeezing Rook’s boobs a couple of times makes her feel better. But when Vil gets very mad, the only thing that could help is for Rook to pull Vil’s underwear down and dive with her face between her legs. Then she eats Vil until she is so tired that all agitation has left her body, and her anger is gone… Technically, if Rook isn’t around, Vil could just breathe in and out until she is calm, but for some mysterious reason Rook is always around whenever Vil starts feeling angry. Is it a coincidence?

Floyd/Epel – while the bra that Vil makes Epel wear isn’t uncomfortable and is actually quite nice, she still doesn’t like the fact that she is supposed to wear it, so whenever she sees Floyd going around clearly bra-less, she gets so fascinated and excited. One time when they were hanging out together, being all rebellious and stuff, Epel took her bra out and looked at Floyd very proudly and smugly. And Floyd pointed out how pointy and erect Epel’s nipples are and giggled at her… and then quietly stole her bra while Epel was busy covering them and feeling unexpectedly embarrassed. They were hard the entire evening, which Floyd found very cute and couldn’t stop commenting on.

Ortho/Idia – when they were kids, Idia tried to make Ortho to be “the princess” in whatever story they were playing because Ortho is younger, and Idia wanted her to feel cherished and a centre of attention. But Ortho threw a tantrum about it because she wanted Idia to be the princess instead. They weren’t really into playing with dolls or all this princess stuff, so it was just a very rare and kind of wholesome memory that Idia completely forgot about… until Ortho called her a pillow princess and said “see, I was right” with a smug face all those years later. What do you mean you were right…! Is this really a good moment to bring that up?? While pressing a pulsating finger against your sister’s you-know-what??

Lilia/Idia – one time Idia actually went to listen to Lilia’s bass guitar performance in an empty clubroom because she wouldn’t go out of her room otherwise. And Lilia teased her a lot that day, acted very smugly, called Idia her groupie and even suggested to give her an autograph by signing her titties. Idia was embarrassed and terrified, but Lilia did end up lifting her shirt and doing that…

Lilia/Silver – when Lilia is feeling down for some reason, sometimes she makes Silver sit on her lap. Silver is too heavy for that at this age, and she usually says that it will make mother’s blood circulation worse, but Lilia always says that it’s okay and pushes her down. Then she hugs Silver tightly, presses her cheek against Silver’s chest, sits like that for a couple of minutes and playfully slaps Silver’s thigh, telling her to stand up and saying that she is a good girl and made her feel all better. Whenever Lilia stands up though, her legs shake because of bad blood circulation… Silver told you!

Sebek/Silver – whenever Silver falls asleep and Sebek doesn’t wake her up right away for some reason, she always makes sure she looks appropriate: closes her legs, fixes her shirt, even puts her hair back from her face. Although every now and then she does end up staring at her sleeping face and body for some time before doing that… you know, if no one is around…

Lilia/Malleus – as Malleus’ breasts were growing, she was in pain pretty often because of the drastic and quick growth. Lilia used to soothe her pain while massaging her chest with her small but knowledgeable hands, and it helped a lot… but also backfired, because now Malleus’ breasts are very tender; but also sometimes when she gets angry she really wants to have them squeezed and groped, as it pacifies her.

Sebek/Malleus – Sebek loves repeating that she’ll never get married because she already decided that she will live only to serve Malleus. One times Malleus heard about it and said that it really is a shame, because someone would be lucky to have Sebek as a wife. She didn’t really mean anything by it, but Sebek was so shocked to hear that that she still can’t process that conversation…

Crewel/Deuce – while Deuce wasn’t super sexually experienced before their affair with Crewel started, she was pretty experienced in terms of masturbation, and thought that she knew her body quite well. She was wrong because Crewel made her feel the way she didn’t know she could before… She used to be a very horny young teen, but now is the first time when she stands up and can feel wetness between her legs dripping down her thighs (without even being touched!). She also squirted for the first time with Crewel… and was pretty shocked by that, instantly getting embarrassed that she just peed herself. This woman melts her brain…

[shai-manahan]

hi, I sincerely hope I'm not being pushy or anything, and that you're doing ok! I saw your post about the devastating typhoon in your country and know that must be heartbreaking. if it's okay to ask, is Hollowed Minds still being written? I completely understand if it's not, since I (and other readers) know you have probably been going through a lot. I still love and think about your IF everyday to the point it's become a comfort game of mine and gotten me through some tough times with its engaging mysteries and angsty, touching moments, and though I would obviously be sad about it, the mental health and personal circumstances of authors are so much more important than a fan's feelings. I wish you good luck with life regardless of whether this IF is continued or not!

Hi! I appreciate the concern and your love for HM and don't worry because I'm still working on it <3 I know it's been a while, and admittedly it also distresses me that I haven't updated the game yet after all this time. But please be assured that this isn't a story I could ever let go of or even think about canceling no matter what.

Honestly, our country's been through a lot these past few years. My family, friends, and mentors have been through a lot as well. There is increased hostility targeted at marginalized communities everywhere and it's made a huge impact on my writing and my perception towards my own characters. I also find I relate to a lot of them now to an extent I never wished to reach.

It's partly why I decided to make MC someone with Filipino (specifically Tagalog) heritage, why I made their personality a little more preset (while still allowing space for headcanons and a few trait choices), and why I'm making some revisions to make certain details clear upfront.

Also, I suppose I'm just afraid a lot of readers would not get the point of the series itself. We're still at a very early stage of the plot, and while I've gotten anons whose theories have made it clear that they understand what this is eventually leading to, I do get the sense that some might still think of it as a mere cop thriller story when I actually aim for it to be a critic of policing institutions and the system itself. This is something that would be made clear anyway as we progress, but I at least want it to be apparent that MC will never ally nor respect some characters throughout the series, and that there are actions they would never find justifiable/fair.

I haven't posted significant progress updates lately (which is also why Patreon billings are still paused atm) because I don't think I've made enough progress to talk about. I will still answer asks, however, so please feel free to send them if you have questions/concerns/fun asks!

And I'm really glad HM has helped you get through tough times :') I know writing it helps me as well.

[leclsrc]

Just saw the last Carlos fic and I LIVED for it… but can never get enough of my manz… Carlos x driver!reader (friends to lovers) where it’s hard to be a female f1 driver because everyone is waiting to brand you as overly emotional and dramatic. What if the reader has a bad crash and she claims to everyone including her driver friends that she is completely fine, only to collapse later because of an injury she hid from everyone

silver lining – cs55

genre: drabble, angst?, fluff, yearning

auds here... whatta painful req anon! am trying to get reqs done so i start anew for 2023 but i write painfully slow. anyway i hope you enjoy this. title from silver lining by the nbhd :)

Silverstone is cold and windy when you snag P2 beside Carlos. 

Immediately, you’re ushered into the media pen to answer questions, after the usual physical check-up and initial celebrations. Something tugs at your leg, a dull pain that seems to grow, but you clear your throat and put on a smile for the interviewer. With drivers, the questions are an endless cliche: what was your strategy, did it go down well with Max, your teammate, were there prior discussions of how to handle this and that and conserve that and this.

But with you, the cliche reaches a whole new level. Apart from the usual, it’s: how do you keep your hair so shiny even when racing, any favorite workouts, what’s the female F1 driver diet. It’s tiring, draining to constantly overhear your male coworkers answer more objective, driver-oriented questions. 

It never helps to speak up against it. You’ve got most of the Internet on your side, but there’s the occasional semi-viral tweet that brands you as emotional and dramatic, sometimes backed up by so-called F1 experts. You’ve been the topic of multiple TikToks, podcast episodes, and think pieces that all bring you down.

“Did you feel nervous at all going into Q3, considering there’d been a minor complication with the car?” You feel for the interviewers, though, knowing they have to repeat all these for hours. You swallow your nerves and spout an answer of your own. The pain grows sharp.

The man pauses and reviews his notepad, then. “Did you maybe wish you could’ve gotten P1 today instead of Sainz? Prove the whole ‘girl boss’ notion?”

“My desire to win has nothing to do with ‘girl boss’-ing,” you clarify. “I’m very happy for Carlos, but at the end of the day this is my career, so obviously I’d say yes to wanting to get first place. It’s not an odd answer.”

Your gut churns with dread, knowing this will be spun into a nasty headline later. But you flex your leg, and it sends you into a silent fit of pain—something’s wrong, a muscle pulled or trapped. The interviewer thanks you after a few more questions, and you swallow the rest of your water in hopes of being distracted, albeit momentarily.

Seb bumps into you, notices the grimace on your flushed face. “Everything alright?”

“Tired,” you say, wanting nothing more than to be done with it and sleep the leg pain off. It increases with every step you take, but if you start showing signs of it here, the headlines will only worsen.

You pass the rest of the pen and wobble back to your motorhome. Much to your surprise, Carlos waits there, a towel slung over his shoulder. Like Seb, he notices the dull, dry pain written on your eyes.

Unlike Seb, he doesn’t leave the issue alone. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you say. You and Carlos have always been close, harboring the same age gap as he and Charles but a more levelheaded relationship. “Are we celebrating tonight?”

“You definitely aren’t with the way you’re walking,” he says pointedly. “En serio?”

“I said nothing,” you say, sharpening your voice. “Leave it.”

He follows you slowly, until you’re both isolated by the door of your room. It’s quiet when you let him in, your irritance and standoffish behavior still evident.

He tries again, because if he’s learned anything from years of knowing and loving you, it’s that you’re a truly stubborn son of a bitch. “Tell me,” he says, solemn. His loud mood always tones down with you, not because you bore him, but because he feels more comfortable with himself.

Inversely, you’re always louder around him, more bubbly, unlike your typically stoic self. It’s the kind of connection neither of you can label, or explain. It’s the both of you, always. “I think my leg’s injured,” you say, letting the confession leave you in one breathless sentence. “It really, really hurts, Carlos.”

You lean against the wall and exhale. “I’ll get it checked,” you tack onto it, so he doesn’t worry even more. He worries a lot. Especially with you.

“Why didn’t you say anything at first,” he says, voice aghast with concern. He mumbles something in Spanish. When he’s caught in fits of emotion, you notice, his English is always the first to go.

“It wouldn’t have been taken seriously,” you reason, wincing. “I never am.”

“Fuck that,” he says. “You need to say these things.”

“Carlos,” you say. 

He takes his hand in yours. “You make me worry. I worry.”

You nod along, gripping his hand with whatever energy you have left. You know as early as now that you’ll be okay, that this annoying leg will be taped up and rested tonight, because that’s Carlos—always caring, always there. You have so much of him in your heart.

There’s a glimmer of something there, just in the undergrowth. You can’t wait to find out what it is.