#anyways i'll write the TLDR

[shalomniscient]

woke up having mavu thoughts....................... i hate this fucking game (aq spoilers utc)

she sacrificed herself 500 years ago to power the sacred flame and got resurrected like AT LEAST under 20ish years ago……….. god what must it have been like waking up so many years into the future? did she immediately start searching for scraps of her family? records, accounts, fuck; maybe even descendants? imagine finding nothing, no proof the people you loved most in this world beyond anything even existed. i'd end it all. there was barely any info on her sister which is why whenever she talks about her it's always "i think" or "with reasonable confidence".......... IM SO………………… I HATE THIS STUPID BAKA GAME ACTUALLY ??? doesn't help the fact that she had to BURN that picture like what if i sobbed. like what if i tore my hair out lay on the floor and sobbed

[yellowfingcr]

Encrypted in dread cipher, paradox-multiplied, but it is me, yes, still me, your goldfinch friend.

[b4kuch1n]

I'm not gonna screenshot it bc 1/it really doesn't matter that much and 2/the person who made the comment is a kid but: a while ago I made a comic that's supposed to be a genuine study and reinterpretation of someone else's sprite comic (made in the spirit of authenticity too - to recreate the vibes of the sprite comics from that era, iirc very specifically because it's funny) and I got a comment on that comic's post that's like "glow up"

which is a compliment obvs. and the commenter probably didn't mean anything by it, it's a common expression. but I've been trying to find a way to gracefully put that comment away ever since it appeared lol

I just very much don't want my art to be taken as trying to one-up someone else's art when that's not the piece's intention. especially when the piece that inspired my art is perceived as "low effort" or "shitpost" or stuff like that. I did mention in the tags of that post that my considering it a study is entirely genuine, and I can legitimately write pages about the cool stuff I find in it other than and inherent in the haha funneys, but that's not for you guys that's for me. I just think that approaching art competition-first like that is a miserable way to do it, and (tipping into overthinking here if the whole tiny-comment-got-stuck-in-my-brain-for-almost-a-month part hasn't given that away yet lol) I really don't want that to be the takeaway from my own art. at least generally. if I actually think the source material is trash and what I'm doing is genuinely categorically better I'd just come out and say it lmao

[lizzerswillpoststuffmethinks]

I'm so eepy RAAAAHHH

[bluebunnysart]

Quick PSA about this blog

The anon and I sorted it out over DMs so all is good now!

I'm not a huge Tetocest fan or anything, I just like it when someone draws really nice drawings of them and they happen to be Teto x Teto, so the chance of me drawing Teto x Teto is kinda low but not zero. Like I wrote in my chart, I mostly treat them as a cute pair of sisters, and that chart was a Miku x Teto chart because Negidrill is my OTP.

If I ever make Tetocest art, it's not with the assumption that they're sisters or related or seeing each other in a familial way. I'm grossed out by incest of any kind, and I'm also grossed out by pseudo-incest. Tetocest (selfcest) is literally Teto x herself/a different version of herself, not a relative or anything, so I wanted to make that clear.

I'll be tagging all my stuff that isn't quick doodles/text, so if you're anti-Tetocest or Teto x Teto or something, you can blacklist that tag or avoid me altogether because I don't hate it. The chance I'll draw actual Teto x Teto that isn't cute platonic love is like 5% though, 'cuz I like Miku x Teto more than anything and that's my main priority.

If anyone has beef with anything I like, I absolutely encourage you to unfollow me or avoid me because this is where I post art of MY interests and I don't want to be treated like a criminal in my own space.

My Miku x Teto is NOT proship (I always ship them around the same age) and I don't support proship or anything weird/immoral. I'm fine with criticism if I do something wrong but please don't be aggressive towards me because Mktt is extremely precious to me and I don't want to be chased away from my own space. You won't believe my ability to self-isolate lol but I'm not afraid of being alone, even if my love for Mktt will never die (especially not 'cuz of anyone).

For now I'll continue to draw/write Mktt/Voca/UTAUloid art at my own leisure with my own headcanons and interests, and I'm not doing it for attention. I'm doing it out of love for the characters.

Thanks for reading! ^^

[stcnefruit]

— open starter.

status - open to all, but pls read my rules and mobile about (pinned post) first before interacting. don't like my starters. muse - vasti inaiê souza gonçalves, sculptor, potter and printmaker. bisexual, uses she/her pronouns. human, thirty. wanted opposites (in order of priority) - m/nb/f, 30+. mocs (muns/muses of color) preferred. wanted connections - literal strangers, an ex, fellow artist, someone they haven't seen since sixth grade, as long as they're a little richer than vasti is (and not related) go literally batsh*t plot - they're on their way to personally deliver one of their commissions but they haven't slept well in over 48 hours (they've slept enough to not get pulled over, they can drive) and really should have hired a truck or sent it through the post but hey they've done it before and the client is right across town (or city, cough) so it shouldn't be too bad right? they'll make it except you just kind of yk. rear-ended them at the stoplight and their sh*t's in the trunk bc it couldn't fit in the back seat and now you might have just f*cked sh*t up if that packing wrap isn't as good as it's marketed to be. potential meet cute with insurance problems and career threatening happenings basically, what could be better than that

— she hears it before she feels it, the way the body of the car lurches underneath her at the street corner. the rattling in the back is too loud for her to ignore, and she's already doing inventory on what she has with her. registration papers, house keys, studio keys, that flat tire kit she's never had to use in her life and hopes she won't have to now, the delivery— oh God, fuck, the delivery. in the trunk. surrounded by a shit ton of bubble wrap and cling film and whatever the fuck else she wrapped it in at 3am two days ago and placed it in its box, but last she checked no flat tire makes that kind of sound like the kind where there's a bit too much metal and you know in your gut you'll need to call your insurance company. both of them, in her case, if the vehicle in her rearview mirror is giving anything to go by. que se lixe isso, this is not a good day. her blood pressure was not made for this. neither was her neck, for that matter, but she doubts there was enough speed behind the impact to cause any whiplash worth worrying about. she unlocks her phone as she steps out, car door slamming closed behind her, insurance already on speed dial. as a precaution she takes a few photos of the other car's license plate, now neatly tucked (along with the front bumper) just barely under her chassis—she is not paying for this shit if she doesn't have to, especially if the driver in question has enough money to be driving a car like that right into her sedan and especially if they might have just jeopardized her commission. three months, hundreds of hours, possibly damaged in her trunk because it's the one day she didn't have her morning coffee and decided to put it there instead of the backseat, bubble wrap or no bubble wrap. yeah, she'll milk every last penny from that payout while she's at it. might as well be pissed for a reason. 'hey,' she says, coming up to the window as it rolls down, 'i'm sorry, this is going to sound so completely fucking obvious and i know this and you know this but i think you just rear-ended me? and there's something in my trunk that i really need to get out and check on before this day goes any further to shit than it already has so if you could please try and back the fuck up, it would be much appreciated. juro o túmulo da minha mãe.' her mother is alive, thank you very much, but it's not like they need to know that in english or portuguese. // @indiestarter

[ozzgin]

okay, hear me out: mean girl!reader x nerdy/sub!yandere

nerd!yan who gets bullied by you all the time, with harsh name calling and forcing him to do your homework.

nerd!yan who grows intrigued with you. you’re so confident, so pretty, so cool! how can he not like you?

nerd!yan who’s slowly growing more obsessed. his breath hitches whenever you loom over him with that annoyingly hot smirk of yours, calling him such mean, degrading names

nerd!yan who gets jealous whenever he sees you targeting someone else. you can’t bully them!! you should pay attention to him and only him. oh well, he’ll just have to eliminate the competition, so you can go back to ���tormenting” him again.

nerd!yan who’s really such a pervert! he followed you home and was pleasuring himself to your scent that lingered on your clothing… such dirty behaviour!

mean girl!reader who returns home to find one of her classmates in her bedroom, and how can she not smile at the sight? he’s so pretty, such a cute little plaything…

mean girl!reader who had always been aware of nerd!yan’s obsessive tendencies, and played along. but now that he’s been caught red handed…

mean girl!reader who degrades poor nerd!yan for being such a disgusting pervert, but submits to nerd!yan’s fantasies anyway. she plays with him, leaving harsh love bites and scratches over his soft skin, reducing him to a moaning, whiney mess.

nerd!yan who’s basically your pet now, obediently following you throughout school, happily accepting all your orders, no matter how demeaning or gross they are.

people who even dare look your way with romantic interest? they get disposed of in…well, let’s just say, messy. oh, but not that nerd!yan will ever let you see it happen! your precious, beautiful eyes should be shielded from such violent acts. but if you ever ask… tilt your head playfully with a soft smile and ask him to let you watch, he might.

tldr; mean girl and a nerdy yandere that are both equally toxic for each other

have an awesome day!! I would really like to see you write a concept like this <3

-Ash

A/N: I'm including someone else's request as I think they mesh well together: "a mean bully!reader with a yandere!loser, where reader basically just uses him like a pet and has him do whatever she wants" I'll be doing my best, but do keep in mind this is written by a loser nerd so I can't guarantee accuracy. I also don't want to be too mean, even if it's hypothetical, y'know? 😭

Nerd! Loser! Yandere x Mean Girl! Bully! Reader

They say being in the right relationship motivates you to strive for the best version of yourself. Sometimes, the opposite is true. What happens when your soulmate brings out your most depraved self?

Content: female reader, mildly NSFW, obsessive behavior, violence, bullying, loser is meant in a loving way, yandere consents to everything

You really aren't that bad of a person. Or at least you weren't before you met the odd man you now call your boyfriend. How did it all begin? For the sake of full disclosure, alright, you have always been somewhat on the mean side. A little too sarcastic, a little too blunt, perhaps a little too harsh. You don't like soft people and have little patience for their stumbling attempts. But, you can hold your tongue as long as it doesn't involve you.

The meeting, at least from your point of view, was entirely accidental. Despite just starting your university year, your charisma had quickly gained you enough friends and acquaintances to have a stable sample of potential group partners. Except for one class. One single missing person, and you were asked to include a name you didn't recognize. Some young man who almost never showed up to class.

Oh, but he did. He was there for every lecture, for every seminar. His, and yours. His first encounter with you was not what most would call romantic. On day one he'd gotten lost. The crowded halls, the new environment, the noise, the smell, everything overwhelmed him, and he found himself wandering in a panic, until at last he bumped into you. The impact sent him straight onto the ground, books pathetically spilling from his trembling arms. You, on the other hand, remained standing as if nothing happened. "Pull yourself together, dumbass", you hissed through your teeth, looking into his eyes for one brief moment before moving on to your friends: "You have to give it to them straight, otherwise they'll think we're still in high school and someone will hold their hand all the time. It's embarrassing! Grown adults!"

He can't remember anything else from that day. Only your voice, your expression, your stance. Somehow, for whatever reason, that "dumbass" went straight to his heart. To think you'd look after him, a complete stranger. You were right, he needed to recollect himself and figure it out. Something even his own mother omitted to mention.

How he wished he could be like you. The way professors relied on you for discussions, the way your friends flocked for advice. But see, he knew you were faking most of it. That overly sweet smile and exaggerated politeness, all of it was a mask you'd learned to wear at any time. It only came off when dealing with people like him. There was a certain pride in that fact: he'd seen the real you. Not your "friends".

The more he thought about it, the more plagued by need he became. The need to hear you speak to him again, in that raw, unfiltered voice, with that disgusted glare piercing through his entire being. Thus, he did his best - as per your advice - to find another opportunity. The group work. One glance at him was enough for you to remember: "Ah, fuck, you're that dumbass from first day", you whined in frustration. Instant arousal.

And so, your unusual partnership began to develop. Or rather, your game of tormentor versus tormented. (Un)Paid actors and nothing more. It didn't take you long to notice his strange reaction to your verbal aggressions, almost as if the man relished in your ruthlessness. He seemed to know exactly what buttons to press in order to anger you. In return, you decided to see how far you could go until he'd finally cave in. From insults, to flicking him in the forehead, shoving him against the wall, ordering him around like a collared dog. You had your suspicions, but it all culminated when you went over to his little dorm room for a final project review. You'd gotten so upset - what did he even do? - that you pushed him hard into the ground and straddled him, holding onto the collar of his jacket and shouting profanities. A horrified grimace struck his face, and you froze. Have you gone too far? Was he finally going to ask that you stop, and put this strange charade behind? "P-please give me a moment, I..." he panted, frantically trying to move you aside. "I need to take care of myself. I'm so sorry." You hesitantly stood up and noticed the obvious erection in his pants.

You have a strange effect on him. He is not incapable; he knows it very well. And yet, the temptation is too great: to pretend, to exaggerate, to fail, anything to have you take the lead and lovingly scold him in the process. "What do you mean you're too anxious to present your part? Christ, you're useless. Utterly, completely useless." He can't wait to pleasure himself later to the memory of your words. Truly addicting. He doesn't mind being a doormat if it's your feet keeping him down. You bring out his most pathetic, perverted, deplorable self.

The same can be said about you. You've never been this mean to anyone. You hadn't even intended to reach this point, yet something keeps riling you up. Maybe it's his pleading pout whenever he's being reprimanded. The hooded, lustful eyes gazing up at you submissively and waiting for the next burning whip of your tongue. He brings out the worst in you and he loves every second of it.

You unlock the door and march into the bedroom (you've since moved in together). Without a warning, you grip his chin tightly and give the man a firm tug, forcing him to pay attention. "You did something, didn't you? I was supposed to meet with a classmate for coffee and he vanished without a trace. Won't answer my texts or calls." He shakes his head in denial at first, wide innocent eyes glistening in fear. Ah, he can't help it. His lips curl in a crooked grin. He's been caught. You shove two fingers in his mouth, and without delay he twirls his tongue around them hungrily. "What a psychotic bitch you are. You want to be the only one, huh? Is that what it is about?" Between the slurps and the whimpers, you can discern a hurried nod.

[dunmeshistash]

Greetings, Mr. Meshi!

This is perhaps a bit of an unorthodox question, but one that has been bothering me for an unreasonable amount of time.

Now, here's the thing: I OBSESS over Marcille outliving everyone she holds dear. It's a theme very close to me, but even beyond that I just find it to be one of the most interesting elements of Dungeon Meshi's story for me personally. I've written an embarrassing amount of lengthy essays on it that will never see the light of day - that's how obsessed I am over this specific element of her character. But, there's something that bothers me...

A lot of poignant stories and artworks that tackle this topic get comments on 'em whenever Falin is the subject of aging, each one some variation of "Everything points to Falin having an extended lifespan after her revival!" which... Seems weird to me?

I don't know why this bothers me so much, but setting aside my personal annoyances, I don't remember anything pointing to this at all. At least, nothing concrete.

I don't know if this is a question you'd want to answer or not, but since your blog is a hub for all sorts of opinions and headcanons, I'd love to know where this line of thought could originate from.

I really wouldn't blame you if you didn't answer this question, though. Part of me feels I'm just asking this because I want to see if others share in my confusion or not.

Rrrregardless, though! Lemme take the opportunity to say that your blog is delighful. Love it! Also, that mushroom man with the funny face that sometimes responds to you with lengthy essays is also really cool. Everyone is cool. At least here on the northern hemisphere! It is smack dab in the middle of fall, after all! Coolness all around! Stay frosty! Or don't! Maybe warm up at a fireplace. I don't know!

Hi there! Thank you for the kind words, I love reading other's opinions on what I post so I also love the additions by the mushroom <3

It's quite hot over here in northeast Brazil, send some coolness my way please I'm dying.

Your question isn't strange at all! And I don't mind answering anything (unless it's rude or sounds like shipping war bait) so don't worry.

(Decided to put the rest under a readmore, TLDR: Kui said "maybe so, right?" about Falin having a longer lifespan but I have arguments why I don't think this actually confirms it. Anyway if you're someone who likes the headcanon you might want to skip this post)

To be honest those type of comments bother me too because I also LOVE Marcille's struggle with mortality and sometimes "Falin will live much longer!" feels undermining of the lesson she had to learn. I don't mind it in the headcanon sphere where everything is allowed and happy endings grow on trees but when it becomes intertwined with canon it starts to make me a little disappointed.

Just a reminder of the lesson she has to learn

She has to come to terms with the cycle of life and death, that something she wants (everyone to live longer) shouldn't be forced upon others just because it causes her grief. So, to me at least, Falin being made into something that will end up outliving other tallmen would undermine the message? In a canon sense ofc, if you're writing a wish fulfillment story then her living longer would have a different meaning, I just wanna be clear I have nothing against it in that sense, it all depends on what story you're trying to tell.

Anyway, actually answering your question that idea comes from the fact she was fused to a Red Dragon, and the fact her body has been affected by it, her sight was fixed and she grows feathers for example, so people theorize maybe her lifespan has been affected too. But we don't really know how long dragon's live so it's hard to say how much it would have been affected if at all.

It also comes from this answer Kui gave in a QnA

Q: Would Falin have an extended lifespan after the whole chimera thing? A: Maybe so, right?

To me this reads as the usual non-answers Kui gives, like, "I'll leave it up to your imagination" but for other people this read as a confirmation of the headcanon, in another questions she answers "I hope so" about Thistle leading a happy life after having his desires eaten and it's even debatable if Thistle survived at all so I don't think those comments indicate much of canon (I'm that way about most QnA answers tbh, unless it's something inconsequential like confirming Mithrun's Brother's name or stuff about very minor characters)

Another argument I have against her having a different lifespan is Izutsumi, Izu has been mixed with a monster but continues to age at the same rate a Tallmen would, even tho she also has different biology because of the Great Cat she's fused with (ears, reflexes, eyes etc etc) she is still a tallman

Falin isn't really the same thing as Izutsumi tho, I understand, but it's the closest example we have, if we believe the AB descriptions and demi-humans are really mixes between humans and monsters that's also another argument about it not affecting lifespan, since all of them are short lived and have an average lifespan of 55.

All of this *can* be dissmissed tho, the other demi-humans and beastmen are all mixed with mammal monsters and nothing nearly as powerful as a Dragon, so there is arguments to be made that Falin is different and that she *might* have an extended lifespan, all I'm saying is that there's no solid confirmation of it, it's fine to believe it but going around "correcting" other people saying it's a fact wouldn't be right I don't think, especially if you're saying that in a conversation about Marcille journey of death acceptance.

Death is a touchy subject and everyone is at different stages of their own journeys with it so I really don't want to judge those who would rather have Falin or even Laios live longer. I'm not really sure how to talk about this in the proper way, but I hope I didn't make anyone upset!

[giveafike]

in honour of bens bday u should do a fic where he gets a special bday present iykyk!?!😉😉

TLDR: You surprise Ben on his bday with his fave present ever (you)! DW for my soft girls, I'll be posting a SFW alphabet after this

Word count + info: 3.5k! Lwky way longer than smut I'd normally write, but it's for a special occassion (I had this up my sleeve for some time). Dialogue (sex talk,.).

Warnings + Content Ahead: NSFW - Minors DNI!! Sweet loving unprotected sex, hickeys, oral sex ... erm yeah!

Azzie Notes ✚: I wasn't gonna let u guys go hungry on a day like today! I also wasn't about to proofread and post a NSFW fic in public lmao, so sorry for the wait!! Also, ANON!!! they say great minds think alike, I was gonna surprise u guys for today w this since we're all so desperate rn, anyways, happy birthday to us!! (im so sad he didnt win today, I hope hes ok tho. I also he posts for his bday so I have new pics to drool over)

P.S this cake in the middle made me YELP laughing, I had to include it. I love Ben's barely visible moustache too, pls am i feral or... 🤭🤭 SEND REQUESTS!!

————————————————————————

Shanghai - B.T.S.

You had been planning this for weeks, months actually, sacrificing your time, saving up, and ensuring every detail was perfect for Ben’s 22nd birthday. It wasn’t just another day; it was his day, and you would make sure it was unforgettable.

Of course, he didn't take a break, not even on his birthday. So naturally, you found yourself flying into Shanghai the afternoon before his birthday. You packed last minute but you knew exactly what to do when you got there. His dad, Bryan, and his personal trainer had been in on the whole surprise from the get-go, helping ensure everything would go smoothly. They were kind enough to organise and send you a spare key to Ben's apartment so you could set up his surprise while he spent the early hours preparing and playing on the courts. Ben was already deep into his routine for the Rolex Masters, completely oblivious to your plan. They had arranged for you to sneak into Ben’s apartment while he was out, leaving you the whole morning to prepare for his surprise.

The morning of his birthday, after Ben left for training and his match, you got to work. You had one mission: make everything perfect before he returned. With the help of the chef and a few decorators, who arrived early to set up while you were out, the apartment was being transformed into a celebration space. They handled the food, decorations, and clean up so you could focus on the rest of the surprise.

You went straight from the apartment to the bustling streets of Shanghai, making sure to get everything in one sweep. First, you found a shop that sold the most beautiful silver chain, sleek, simple, and elegant. The links were subtly engraved with the coordinates of the place of your first date. It was a personal, thoughtful gift, something he could wear daily without it being too flashy.

Next, you picked up the balloons, large, metallic letters that spelt out “Happy 22nd Birthday Ben!,” as well as gorgeous bouquets of red roses and white lilies, his favourites, he loved how they smelt. As you walked through the shops, your heart raced. You smiled, imagining his reaction when he saw the apartment transformed, he didn't even know you were here.

Your final stop was a chic lingerie boutique. You browsed through delicate fabrics before choosing a stunning set of black lace lingerie, seductive and understated, the perfect surprise for later that evening. With everything in hand, you rushed back to the apartment, anticipation buzzing in your veins.

Once the chef and decorators finished setting up and left, you had the apartment to yourself. The balloons were floating in the living room, the roses perfectly arranged in tall vases strewn around. The air was filled with the scent of candles and the delicious meal waiting to be heated up later, roasted duck breast, truffle mashed potatoes, and a rich red wine reduction. The cake sat in the fridge, waiting for its moment to shine with the cheeky message iced on top: “Happy Birthday! I love you for you, but that D is an amazing bonus too”. You checked on it and giggled to yourself before you headed to get ready.

You took your time getting ready. First, you showered and did your hair in soft waves that tumbled down your back. Your makeup was flawless, subtle with a bold touch of a deep vampy lipstick. You slipped into the black lace lingerie, feeling a rush of excitement as the delicate fabric hugged your skin. You took your time admiring it on you, knowing it would only get seconds of appreciation before it's torn off. Over it, you put on the gown you had chosen for the evening, a long, sheen golden dress that was tied at the neck and shimmered as it draped down to your ankles. It was backless, elegant yet sensual, teasing the bra wire at the back and you couldn’t wait for Ben to see it.

With everything in place, you received the text from Bryan:

Ben’s on his way back. He’ll be there soon.

It was time.

You lit the candles around the apartment, their warm glow casting a flickering, romantic light across the room. Then you dimmed the overhead lights, giving the space an intimate ambience. You hopped up onto the kitchen island, tucking your feet under you, the golden dress pooled as you propped yourself up with the cake on your lap, carefully placing and lighting candles. The scent of flowers and the flicker of candlelight filled the air as you waited, your heart beating faster with every passing minute.

Ben’s footsteps grew louder as he approached the door, but your heartbeat drowned them out. You took a deep breath, adjusting your posture on the counter, the lit candles casting a soft glow over your golden gown. The cake on your lap, with its cheeky message, waited for his reaction.

The door clicked open, and Ben stepped inside, in his shorts and t-shirt, looking completely unprepared for what greeted him. His eyes scanned the room in a quick sweep, first the balloons and decorations all over, then the flowers, the candles, before landing on you. His jaw dropped, eyes wide in surprise as his bag fell to the floor with a thud.

“Happy Birthday!” you said, hopping off the counter and sauntering towards him, the cake held out for him to blow out the candles. The flickering flames illuminated his expression, pure, genuine shock.

“Holy-" he began, running a hand through his tousled hair. "You're here? In Shanghai?”

You grinned, holding up the cake just beneath his chin. “Surprise, baby.”

He walked over to you in slow strides, shock written all over, converting into a big smile. Ben holds your face, kissing your forehead tenderly before he glances from you to the cake, his smile growing. Then he read the message, written in smooth icing: Happy Birthday! I love you for you, but that D is an amazing bonus too.

Ben chuckled, shaking his head, his voice rich with amusement. “Of course you would write that.”

You winked. “Come on, make a wish, birthday boy. The candles are melting”.

He blew out the candles, his eyes never leaving yours, his intensity heightened by the dim lighting. The last flicker of the candles faded, leaving the two of you in a soft, romantic glow.

You set the cake on the island and looked up at him expectantly with a cheeky smile. “So? What did you wish for?”

Ben tilted his head, his gaze lingering on you for a long moment. “I’m not supposed to tell you, right?” His voice dropped lower as he leaned in, lips brushing your ear. “But if I’m honest, I already got my wish”.

Your cheeks flushed at the warmth in his voice as he planted a kiss on your ear to your cheek, and you laughed, brushing him off playfully. “Smooth, Shelton. Real smooth.”

You beckoned him to take a seat at the dinner table while you plated up dinner. Ben’s gaze followed you as you turned to grab the plates, his eyes catching the thin strap of your lacy bra that peeked out from the backless gown. “Wait a second,” he said, voice thick with admiration. “What are you hidin' under here?".

You smirked over your shoulder, sliding the plated food onto the table. “No spoilers! That's for later”

Ben bit his lip, shaking his head, but the playful gleam in his eye was undeniable.

Dinner was simple yet elegant, spent in perfect company and admiration. The conversation flowed as it always did, full of laughter and warmth. You listened as he recounted stories from his time in Shanghai, but you couldn’t ignore how his gaze kept drifting toward you, especially as he roamed over your face and down to the golden gown.

After the final bites of dinner, it was time for his gifts. You handed him a small box first, an elegant silver chain that he unwrapped carefully, his brow furrowing in curiosity. His fingers brushed over the subtle engraving on the links.

“These are coordinates,” he murmured, more to himself.

You nodded. “To where we had our first date.”

Ben’s expression softened immediately, his hand closing around the chain. “Oh, baby...” His voice was quiet, full of emotion as he thumbed over the engraving. He pulled it on, the silver glinting softly in the candlelight as it rested against his neck. “This is perfect. I love it.”

You smiled, watching him admire it before you handed him a few more small gifts, personal things you knew he’d love, tokens of your relationship like a small scrapbook of things you love about him with printed photos, some gifts from his friends back home, a Lego set. He found himself smiling, chuckling and soft with each gift. As the gifts came to a close, you stood up and made your way in front of Ben.

With a mischievous grin, you leaned closer, voice teasing. “But the best present is still to come.”

Ben raised an eyebrow, his grin widening as you knelt, turned around and swept your hair to the side, revealing the small tie at the nape of your neck that held your golden gown in place. “Want to unwrap your final present?”

His hands were on you in an instant, fingers brushing against your skin as he slowly undid the delicate knot. The gown loosened, slipping easily down your body, the soft fabric cascading to the floor in a golden pool around your feet.

Ben’s breath hitched as he took in the sight of you standing there in front of him in nothing but the black lace lingerie that had played in his mind all night. The candlelight only made you look all the more beautiful, feeling like he was entranced. His gaze travelled over your body, and his voice dropped to a rough whisper. “Jesus, baby…”

His hands gently grazed your bare skin as his eyes roamed over every inch of you. “You knew exactly what you were doing when you picked this out.”

“I know what my boyfriend likes,” you teased, holding his hands and bringing him to his feet. He stood close, his hands roaming the small of your back, your shoulders, your hips - anywhere he could feel your skin. Your height difference is now apparent as you look up at him through your lashes.“I’ve got his taste figured out by now.”

Ben grinned, his gaze darkening as his hand slid up to cradle your jaw. “You definitely do,” he whispered before pulling you into a kiss, deep, slow, and intoxicating. His lips were warm and soft against yours, the heat between you both intensifying with each passing second. The kiss deepened, his hands sliding down to your waist, pulling you closer as though he couldn't get enough of you.

You broke the kiss, breathless, your heart pounding as you looked up at him. “Come with me, just one more surprise,” you said softly, taking his hand and leading him toward the bedroom.

As you approached, the door swung open, revealing a scene that took Ben by surprise once again. The room was bathed in the warm glow of candles scattered across various surfaces, their flickering light casting soft shadows on the walls. Rose petals were strewn artfully over the bed, a trail of them leading from the door to where the plush bedding awaited. It was romantic, thoughtful, and completely personal, elevating the moment beyond any cliché.

Ben stood in the doorway for a moment, his hand still in yours, his gaze sweeping over the room. His breath caught, and he gave a quiet, amazed laugh. “I've never been so spoiled before, Y/N.”

You turned to him, your smile soft, the warmth of the moment settling around you both. “Only the best for you. Happy birthday, baby. I love you so much”.

He didn’t waste another second. In one smooth motion, Ben hauled you up into his arms, his lips capturing yours again in a kiss that felt even more intense than the last. There was something deeper in it now, filled with gratitude and love, not just desire. His hands roamed your body, appreciating every inch, as he brought you towards the bed. Your legs wrapped around his waist as you let him take the reign of the kiss, letting him enjoy feeling you up after so long. The feel of his lips, the way his fingers tangled in your hair as he kissed you like he couldn’t believe you were there, it made the whole night feel perfect. He tugged off his shorts and broke the kiss to take off his t-shirt.

He paused, holding your face as he looked down at you before he began to speak, chains dangling in your face, his voice husky against your skin. “You’ve made this the best birthday I’ve ever had. Thank you.”.

Your heart swelled at his words, and you smiled softly, holding his face and rubbing your thumb across his cheek. “And the night’s only just started. Let me take care of you tonight”. You winked as you gently pushed his shoulder down, putting you on top and letting him feel nothing but pure pleasure and love tonight. You straddled him as you undid your bra, tossing it to the side.

His breath hitched again, eyes trailing over you in admiration.

“God, you’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion and desire. His hands ran up your sides in a feathering feeling, before cupping your breasts, palming and tweaking your nipples.

"And you're amazing. I love you, Ben. I'm all yours" you purred as you swept your hair over to one side, placing your palms on his broad chest, lowering yourself down as you planted kisses along his jaw.

Your words made him exhale deeply, giving you just the motivation you needed. You made sure you were going to kiss every inch of Ben tonight, show him just how much you loved and adored him. You sucked on the soft spots you knew well by now, places that made him whimper and groan with pleasure, your favourite symphony. You nipped at his Adam's apple while he fondled your breasts, pinching, rolling and tugging at your nipples. The feeling made you moan against his throat, both of you enthralled in bliss. You trailed your mouth and tongue down kissing and suckling his shoulders and chest, leaving a trail of hickeys all over. You could hear the soft gasps escape his mouth as he held your body tight.

"Ben? Baby, keep your eyes on me, m'kay?" You purred as you made your way to his stomach, about to kiss down to his happy trail.

His eyes flitted open as he propped himself up to keep his eyes on you, never once breaking eye contact. You trailed down, right by his waistband as you danced around, teasing him. You could feel his hard length, desperate to be free, you could see the desperation in his eyes, his mouth agape, brows furrowed, and you could see your work marked all over him, leaving purple stains tainting his skin.

"Y/N...please" he whispered, his voice croaking.

You smiled, holding back a small laugh as you bit his waistband, dragging it down with your teeth as he lifted himself a bit to help you slide them off. You lowered yourself to the edge of the bed, on your knees, never once breaking eye contact.

Ben's erection sprang free, already hard and eager for your touch. You couldn't help but lick your lips at the sight, feeling a surge of desire course through you.

"Tell me what you want, birthday boy," you hummed, your breath hot against his skin as you placed your head on his thigh.

Ben's eyes were dark with lust as he looked down at you. "Your mouth," he groaned. "Please, baby".

Maintaining eye contact, you slowly kissed the tip, before licking a long stripe from base to tip. Ben let out a low groan, his hands fisting in the sheets. You swirled your tongue around the head before taking his head into your mouth.

Ben's eyes fluttered closed before snapping open again, remembering your request to keep watching. You began to bob your head, taking another inch with each pass. Your hand worked in tandem with your mouth, stroking what you couldn't fit.

"Fuck, baby," Ben panted, one hand moving to tangle in your hair, putting it up into a ponytail. "That feels so good."

You hummed in response, the vibrations making him buck against you. You did your very best to try to take as much of his girthy cock as possible, your eyes watering a bit as you did so. You felt so seductive at this moment, the wetness growing in your lacy thong as you worked your boyfriend as if he paid for this.

As you continued your ministrations, alternating between long, slow licks and deep, rhythmic sucking, Ben's breathing became more ragged. His grip tightened in your hair as he guided you up and down his length as he fought to keep his hips still. You could feel Ben getting close, his cock twitching in your mouth.

"Y/N," he groaned, tugging gently at your hair. "I'm gonna-"

You pulled off with a soft pop, looking up at him through your lashes. "Not yet, baby. I want you inside me".

Ben groaned in frustration, but his eyes were dark with anticipation as you crawled back up his body. You straddled his hips, the lace of your panties brushing against his sensitive skin. His hands roamed your body, caressing every curve and dip before finding your waist. When he reached the waistband of your lace panties, he pushed it to the side, placing his thumb on your clit, and applying pressure. You had worked yourself soaking wet during the whole evening, your arousal was apparent.

You gently hovered and aligned him up to your core, before gently taking him in. You slowly sank onto Ben's length, savouring the delicious stretch as he filled you completely.

You both let out a simultaneous moan of pleasure as you bottomed out, your hands braced on his chest for support. The feeling of him stretching and filling you was amazing, it never failed to make your eyes roll and you took a moment to adjust, savouring the sensation.

Ben's fingers dug into your hips, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

"God, you feel amazing," he breathed, voice husky with desire.

You began to move, rolling your hips in a slow, sensual rhythm. Ben met your movements, thrusting up into you with perfect synchronicity. The room filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, skin slapping, soft moans, low groans, and whispered endearments.

As the pace quickened, Ben sat up, wrapping one arm around your waist to pull you closer, deeper if even possible. His other hand tangled in your hair, guiding you into a deep, passionate kiss. You could feel the cool metal of his chains hitting against your breasts with every thrust and roll. His touch on your skin was reverent as if he couldn't believe you were real.

You whispered sweet “i-love-yous” and precious words of endearment, as you felt yourself coming close. He pressed his lips to your forehead, before pressing his forehead against yours, both of you heaving and moaning.

You could feel the tension building, the heat coiling low in your belly as you rode Ben with increasing urgency. Ben's hands roamed your back, tracing the curve of your spine as you rode him, your hips rolling in a sensual rhythm that had you both panting. His thrusts became more erratic, his breathing ragged against your neck as he buried his face there, peppering kisses and gentle bites along your sensitive skin.

"You’re so beautiful, Y/N, so perfect." Ben groaned, his voice strained. "I'm close, baby. So close."

You nodded, moaning, unable to form words as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, your body trembling with the effort to hold back your release. "Me too," you managed to gasp. "Together".

You could feel the familiar tension building within you, your movements becoming more urgent. Ben's hand slipped between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and circling it with practised ease.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged, his breath hot against your ear. "Let go for me".

The added stimulation was all it took to push you over the edge. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, pleasure coursing through every nerve ending as you came, followed by Ben, who groaned, his face contorted as he felt himself fill you up. You cried out his name as waves of pleasure washed over you, your body trembling in his arms. Ben held you close, guiding you through your orgasm with gentle thrusts and whispered praise. You both stayed like that for some time before you climbed off him and collapsed on the bed.

“I hope you got everything you wanted, birthday boy” you gasped, catching your breath. Your legs still shook a bit and your body trembled as you lay there, looking up at your smiling boyfriend.

“You have no idea, I can’t wait to spend every birthday like this with you” he smiled, leaning down to peck kisses over your shoulder and neck.

"We'll celebrate like this every year, Ben. Happy birthday, my love" you hummed, pressing a kiss to his lips. With that, you both lay in each other’s arms whispering sweet adorations, happy to spend the next while by each other’s side.

[artificial-transmutations]

Out Now: Dam Breakers

Hello everyone! I'm extremely excited (and, quite frankly, more than a bit nervous) to announce that I finished my fantasy romance novel Dam Breakers!

For the very TLDR-version: It is available here! Be sure to read the disclaimer below, though.

First of all, thank you! Everyone who reads my stories or likes them shows me that there is at least some interest in my mediocre writing. And even though the novel is not exactly like my stories here (more to that later), it gives me hope that you and other people might like it.

Now, for the actual novel!

Dam Breakers is the tale of Jared, a rather normal modern day college student, and Aleron, an apprentice mage living in a secluded tower with his teacher. One fateful day, they meet and are drawn into a maelstrom of magic, change and love - and dark secrets threatening to destroy everything they loved.

With over 120000 words, this is not only my longest story yet, but also my most carefully crafted one. I will attach an image of my Obsidian graph for the story at the end of the post.

Disclaimer:

As I have mentioned, it is a bit different from the stories I usually post here. First and foremost, it's a lot tamer. This novel isn't meant as a porn piece, but as an intriguing fantasy and romance tale. While there is love, desire and sex, of course, it's way more sparse and less explicit than, for example Closer Than Flesh.

It also features transformation themes, and the concept of change is one of the main focus points of the book, but, again, don't expect 500 pages full of transforming bodies because of it :)

And, finally, for a multitude of reasons, it does not contain AI generated images. I wouldn't be able to generate any that do the story justice, anyway.

Now that you know what not to expect, here are some things you MAY expect:

Transformation. Both in the sense of bodily changes but intriguing character development as well.

Gay Love. This is a story about two men from different worlds falling in love with each other, and their stony road to being together.

Magic. It's a fantasy story, and a truly enchanting one at that, with a fresh concept of magic and change.

Story. Last, but certainly not least, it's a good and interesting read, at least according to my opinion. Since I might be a bit biased here, let me tell you that my beta readers agree.

If you still want to read it (and I hope you do!), then you can grab your copy here:

If you are not in the US, you can just replace the .com with, for example, .co.uk to go to your local Amazon marketplace

I have not forgotten, of course, that I promised a special condition for you folks at Tumblr. Since Amazon makes it a bit difficult to actually implement that, I plan to offer a time limited discount or giveaway in a few weeks. I'll announce the exact time here on my blog beforehand.

If you really want to support me, it would mean a lot to me if you could leave a review on Amazon. That influences the algorithm a lot and helps the book get visibility, which is incredibly important . So, please, if you like the book, leave a review.

Teaser / Preview (mild spoilers)

And here is a short look into the book, from chapter 4. It contains some mild spoilers, but nothing too important. I also added an AI image, which is not in the book (see above).

[...]

Even though the weather was unstable, Jared enjoyed the journey through the vibrant spring land. It was a closeness to nature he had never experienced. Even back home with his parents, in rural Texas, the land had seemed different. Back there, the wilderness had been tamed decades if not centuries ago. There was no wonder, no adventure. Here, there were hills and forests, rivers and bogs, and who knew what else. It was as if Jared was seeing the world for the first time. Not to mention the smell. Jared could not remember a time when he had smelled the spring air like this.

In addition to the landscape, Jared's traveling companion also played a big part. Aleron was an intelligent and witty conversationalist, and Jared learned a lot about his new friend. They spoke of everything under the sun, and Jared told stories of his home, of modern inventions and the differences between this world and his. Even though Aleron was fascinated by his tales, he was also clearly skeptical about some of them, especially when it came to the more complex topics. That was only fair, though, as Jared himself had a hard time believing the fantastic stories of this world, even after having experienced some with his own eyes. Dragons, for example. It didn't matter how often Aleron recited what little information he had about those magnificent beasts, something in Jared resisted fully believing in them. He hoped that he would be able to see one of them for real - although Aleron repeatedly stressed how dangerous they were - in order to be able to fully believe in them.

While Aleron's world was certainly magical, it wasn't all like in the Lord of the Rings. There were, for example, no other humanoid races, as Jared learned. No elves, dwarves or orcs, at least to Aleron's knowledge, which, to be fair, mainly included the Kingdom of Myrthien. Although the Whispering Woods were not technically a part of Myrthien, and were generally considered wilderness, it was clear that they were no part of another nation either. The closest neighboring country to the Whispering Woods would either be the Golden Isles beyond the coast south of Eldoria or the Verdant Lands to the west. According to Aleron, the Verdant Lands couldn't really be considered a nation, too. It was more of a loose confederation of tribal communities, living in the characteristic dense forests of that region.

As Helena had promised, Luminara wasn't difficult to find. The capital of Myrthien was well known and if there was a sign post somewhere, it was sure to point to Luminara.

There was no shortage of smaller and bigger settlements, and about every third or fourth night they were able to sleep in beds. During the other nights, they made camp a bit off the road in order not to attract too much attention. It was one of those nights, about two weeks after they had left Eldoria, that Jared woke up in the middle of the night. Aleron, who was sleeping next to him, was moving in his sleep and occasionally made a sound, which had caused Flicker to gain a bit of distance to the sleeping man.

It was clear to Jared that his friend was dreaming, and he briefly considered waking him up from his nightmare. However, judging by the sounds, Jared began to suspect that Aleron was not having a nightmare but quite the opposite, although the dream seemed to be just as intense.

Quietly, he left the tent, careful not to wake the sleeping mage. Outside, he was greeted by the stars and a clear sky with an almost full moon. The campfire was almost dead, just a few embers and ashes were left. It was a quiet, peaceful night, and Jared decided to go to the nearby lake to drink. Aleron had never once shown a single sign of sexuality before, except for demonstrating a certain uneasiness around nudity and related topics. He never had commented on any woman - or man - in a suggestive way, so Jared had been half- convinced that this whole topic didn't have any relevance to the mage at all.

Of course, for his own reasons, Jared had avoided the subject as well, so, perhaps Aleron thought the same about him. Jared didn't mind that. As magical as this world was, he had yet to encounter a single sign of same-sex attraction. Perhaps this wasn't a thing here, biologically, or perhaps it was socially frowned upon, like in his world's medieval ages - or rural Texas, present day. In any case, there was absolutely no reason to bring that topic up, so he didn't. Not bringing up his sexuality was a sport he was very experienced in for 9 years straight now, after all.

As Jared neared the lake, he was feeling weird and tingly all over. It was not entirely unpleasant, but it stirred a vague memory in Jared. He had felt this feeling once before, but he couldn't quite recall when.

When he bent down to scoop some water into his hand, he stopped before his fingers touched the surface of the lake. The moon was bright, and Jared could see his reflection in the mirror-smooth water quite well. The only problem was that it was not him who was looking back at him.

Of course, there was a strong resemblance, but the details weren't right. His face looked somewhat stronger, his jawline a bit squarer. His hair a bit lighter and styled like the day he first stepped out of the mirror. On his chin, there was a short well-groomed beard even though he had shaved just last morning. It wasn't just his face, though. As he looked down on himself, he looked fitter than he should, as if he was visiting a gym regularly. In fact, the definition of muscle on his torso increased further, just as he was watching. Suddenly, the wonder was replaced by fear. He had felt that way before, and now he remembered when. It had been during his first visit to Aleron's world, when his body was 'destabilizing' as Aleron had put it. Given, the feeling had been stronger then, but it was definitely the same. And now, his body was changing again, and he was weeks of travel from the magic mirror.

Half-panicking, he sprinted back to the tent, not caring about being quiet anymore. Perhaps Aleron knew what to do! He ducked into the entrance and called out to the mage.

"Aleron, wake up!"

Almost immediately, the apprentice jolted awake. "Jared? What is wrong?"

"I... don't know, it's me. Look at me!"

After a few words of encouragement, Flicker began burning brighter, allowing them to see in the tent as well. Aleron looked at the half-naked Jared critically for a few moments before asking: "Okay... what am I looking for?"

"Can't you see? I'm..." However, as Jared looked down on himself, everything was fine again. He was looking at his plain old self, just as he should look like. The tingling feeling was gone, too.

"Oh." Jared felt incredibly stupid all of a sudden. "I... must have been imagining things."

[...]

If you liked the teaser, be sure to give the whole thing a read :)

Let me close with another whole-hearted Thank You for your continued interest!

Stay awesome!

And here, as promised, a peek at the creative complexity of the story:

[starsstuddedsky]

Tangled in Love

vernon x reader

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

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

warnings: none!

wc: 3.8k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And why am I here?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is wrong with my taste in music?” 

“No comment.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have self-control.” 

“Wanna bet?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of what?” 

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

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

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

“Vernon.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can already hear Jihoon’s gloating.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always.” 

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

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

His laughter bounces you. “No way.” 

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

“I'll stay strong.” 

“What if I want a kitten?” 

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

“Sucker.” 

“Only for you.” 

thank you for reading <3

[lowkeyren]

hello !! i really love your aventurine fics <3 i was wondering how you go about characterising him?

ahh thank you!! (,,>﹏<,,) i'll js use this chance to give a brief overview of my understanding of aventurine!! so feel free to scroll below for my take on aven characterization on my fics. for now, tw: yapping (lol)

at face value, aventurine is js a cocky bastard (/aff) with a rlly fucked up backstory; in which i believe that he fakes his confidence to mask his insecurities + his inability to let go of his past (evident from quest desc, reddit user compiled it here). 

his self loathing words are also kind of an inferiority complex (??) though he hides it really well. plus he often puts himself down because he genuinely doesn't believe that he's worthy (was literally sold for 60 tanbas, definitely fucked with his mental, thinking his life is only worth that much) + his tendency to overcompensate in money cus he isn't able to believe that people would genuinely want his company if not for his fortune or riches.

CN: 

没了那块「砂金石」，你就只是个被公司判了死刑的茨冈尼亚奴隶——还是说，你脖子上那行「商品编码」也是琥珀王的恩赐？

translation: without that piece of "aventurine", you're nothing more than a sigonian slave sentenced to die by the IPC —or is the line of "commodity code" on your neck also a gift from the amber lord?

he was favoured by gaiathra, but does he really see his luck as a blessing, or a curse? i’m sure we’re aware of his tendency to hide his hand behind his back because he’s terrified of losing despite being known to “have nothing to lose” when gambling; well his mantra on "all or nothing" also breaks me deeply cus it’s the same thing the man who bought him said (fits his character too i guess). 

i genuinely started tweaking when he (indirectly) said he attempted on his own life 3 times in penacony + when we had to take a photo of kakavasha, and there were 3 other empty spots for his parents and sister. 

tldr: aventurine fans are allergic to happiness because aventurine himself is allergic to happiness.

OKAY IM (not) DONE, SORRY LET ME ACTUALLY ANSWER THE QUESTION LMAOO

for my aventurine fics, i have yet to write one that actually deep-dives into his character, not one that mainly focuses on his character at least!! 

but i digress, dwst was written with “aventurine often wears a smile that masks his true motives, but when he's drunk that facade crumbles.” in mind. (though it didn’t come out exactly that way? up to your interpretation honestly!) 

from heartfelt embrace: “but nonetheless, maybe one day aventurine will open his heart to you, and you’ll find the courage to speak your truth. until then, you’ll find comfort in the warmth of his embrace.”

^ aventurine's guarded nature is evident in his emotional reticence. as he’s not ready to reveal his vulnerable side just yet, he yearns to provide warmth and security to you even if he struggles to express his feelings verbally.

incandescent feelings overflow was also kinda like “haha he has a nonchalant facade, but in reality he does have smt to hide” (can be interpreted as his romantic interest in you or he simply finds teasing you amusing) 

anyway live laugh love aventurine!!!!

good question google

[hypnagogics]

just a heads up, i'm gonna need to take a little step back from interacting so much in order to get ahold of my mental health. don't be alarmed, this isn't a goodbye post! i'll still be around, just a little less active. maybe you won't even notice the change. (who knows, maybe it'll even be a positive change with a higher frequency + quality of writings!) i need a bit of a cleanse from kinda the interactions/social part of this, but writing makes me happy so i'll still be doing that anyway. it's like i'm putting an insane amount of pressure on myself to talk a lot in this space instead of just write, and as a result that's making my already unmanageable anxiety (and other things) just skyrocket to heights i don't wish to test the limits of. maybe it'll be only a few days or longer, maybe i'll go back to chit chatting with yall loads eventually, i don't know. tldr: limiting chitchat, continuing writing. basically just had to make this for my own peace of mind. but yeahhh that's it, hope this makes sense and hope y'all understand :3

[nyoomerr]

Thoughts on Qijiu (as a ship or just in general?). I feel like when YQY or, rarely, the original Shen Qingqiu show up in your fics, they're treated pretty sympathetically, but I'm curious to know more on how you feel about them.

i've never really made up my mind about qijiu, tbh. toxic doomed yaoi VS tragic brothers VS two people who went through something awful together and since then have changed so much as people that honestly they really would be better off without being anything to each other...

in part my general non-commitment to a particular stance on qijiu is probably just a result of my general ambivalence to the characters themselves ;; i'll put my opinions below the break, so that no one has to see my lukewarm sentiments if they're keen on these characters (especially sj!sqq)😅

i often write yqy in a favorable light since sy!sqq likes yqy, but personally i think he's just... fine. i can tell i'm supposed to feel bad for him, but honestly i don't have a lot of sympathy or understanding for someone who feels so horrible about their own self that they then decide to... let somebody else act and feel horrible? i think he's got nice older brother vibes, but the fact that he knew about sj!sqq's abuse of his disciples and didn't intervene kinda cuts into his image as the 'respectable' one, for me.

for sj!sqq... he's a very complicated character, and an interesting character to me because of it. however, i love binghe VERY much, and in the end i just can't actually like anyone who is cruel to him.

at the start of my time in fandom, my opinion of him was just that: "he's interesting, but i don't really care to think about him very much because he was very awful to the character that i DO want to think about a lot." and because i didn't care to think about him, i also didn't care to tackle how complicated his character is - i honestly very frequently just used him as a convenient plot point for binggeyuan without really caring if it was OOC for sj!sqq.

but over time, i've seen a lot of sj!sqq fans who try to wash him clean in ways that feel very weird... as if there is this need to have him proven innocent of every single one of the crimes he was accused of, just because some of them were proven to be misunderstandings. in particular, i've seen this theory that sj!sqq only dumped tea on lbh because the tea was medicinal (??) and it was how he could treat lbh for his injuries (??) without breaking his character (??)... and i've seen this several times, from multiple different people, and all treated very seriously -- this isn't just one person shouting at the sky with this idea.

i guess, as someone who loves bingge when he's soggy and loves him still when he's insane and violent and awful, beyond just feeling like the fandom often misrepresents sj!sqq for the sake of turning him "likeable," it also just feels a bit cheap and cowardly 😂 like, sure, by all means, love that man! but, please love him while also looking the fact that he abused lbh in the eye.

anyway, so i guess tldr: i think sj!sqq is very complicated, and more often than not i just don't care enough about him to represent that correctly, but sometimes i see a take so Weird that it makes my teeth itch. 'raised by winter winds' was more or less the culmination of all of those moments - me going, "okay, let's just for once give genuine care and attention to how i represent this character, since if i want to complain about other people's misrepresentations than i had damn well better make sure i'm not being so careless with my own characterizations."

u can u up, no can no bb, and all that.

to circle back to your original question with all that context: i'm generally ambivalent to both yqy and sj!sqq, so i'm also generally ambivalent to qijiu or what form it takes. there have been a couple fics where i find moments that i'm really invested in them, because i do think that sj!sqq is a complicated and interesting character, but it isn't something i seek out.

[naosaki]

hello everyone !!

tldr: i'm leaving tumblr... 😔

i know i've been largely radio silent since i restored my blog after the whole accidental deletion fiasco. truthfully, i had planned to and had every intention to return to writing and to return to this blog. unfortunately, i grew to be a bit too busy with uni work shortly after and, on top of that, had some other life circumstances to deal with. both of those things together just kept me away from my blog and from writing in general.

currently, i'm not nearly as busy as i had been but upon reflecting, i've decided that i won't be writing on this blog anymore.

i'm only going to get heavier workloads from here on out, and it wouldn't be feasible for me to dedicate my time to writing in the same way i used to, especially since it takes me like. a month and a half to write a fic LMFAO

so !! i'll be closing this blog for the foreseeable future. as tragic as it was when i deleted my blog, i'll just look at it as divine intervention; it would have been significantly harder to leave if i still had all of my old work up on this blog.

if any mutuals still want to talk to me, just send me a message and i'll gladly give you my discord --- i'm more active on there than i am on tumblr anyway.

with all that said: to anyone who has ever read/liked/commented on/rebloged my work, thank you so much from the bottom of my heart. it really means a lot that people actually cared for + liked the silly little stories i wanted to write and share. i love you all very much <33

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

i see there's shipping discussion occurring in your ask box so i figure i'll throw in my two cents as well!

i used to be a REALLY heavy shipper, in exactly that shallow "reduce their personalities to the concept of kissing each other" way that tons of people are complaining about. i wouldn't get into ship wars or harass people or anything, but i was totally the kind of person who you couldn't just have a level character discussion with— because i would be pretty intent on just going through the motions with whatever best friend or acquaintance I'd decided they had a huge crush on.

by contrast now my biggest most important "ships" end up all being somewhere between 3-5 people with a lot of care put into the nuances of each connection on the relationship chart— i still refer to them as poly ships (as a shorthand mostly), but of the 3 to 10 different relationships between the characters, i usually only see a few of them as romantic or sexual, with the majority a lot closer to a found family or queerplatonic sort of vibe

honestly i think the biggest reason for the reductive style of shipping was that 1) i wasn't as skilled a writer then as i am now, so i wasn't really sure how to really retain all of the features of a character that i liked, and 2) i wanted the biggest feelings IMMEDIATELY and there's some kind of instant gratification to shipping where the end goal is for them to kiss and you can just draw/write/think about them kissing and you're done.

it's kind of like the instant ramen of fictional relationships to me. it's kind of "one size fits all", low writing skill requirement, low effort, really really fast and easy, and ultimately not really that rewarding at the end of it. and just like how real actual ramen exists separately from instant noodle cups, it IS possible to write a really amazing and beautiful and deep romantic ship fic that successfully plays off of the kinds of people these characters are, but ramen still isn't the end-all be-all of relationships! there are so many different hypothetical dishes that could be made with the same characters!

and my personal favorite is polyqueerplatonic ships for this very reason, because with just a few characters you can get a whole diverse array of interactions and dynamics!!

anyway tldr; i think romantic shipping is fun, and even "cheap" reductive romantic shipping can be fun, but (to return to my instant noodles metaphor) it would be reasonably upsetting to attend an awesome community potluck only to find like 90% cup noodles. and the people serving the cup noodles frown at you whenever you ask if anyone's serving like, gourmet spaghetti or dumplings or something.

so just know that if you're bringing your silly "ouhhh they should kiss" fan works to the fandom, you're appreciated and I'm glad you're having fun, and if you're bringing the super precisely thought-out nuanced relationship fan works to the fandom, you are ALSO so appreciated and additionally i really wish there were more of you in my own fandoms.

flashbacks to the time i looked up a ship that i THOUGHT was pretty popular but it only had like 230 works on AO3 at the time and basically all of them were romantic instead of my hyper-specific one-sided queerplatonic one-sided fully platonic thing i had pictured in my mind....

Okay, as someone who has tried their hand at writing slow burn in the past, I totally get the instant gratification thing. "You know when would be a good time for them to kiss? NOW"

I'd get frustrated at my own characters for not just making out already and I was the one writing them not making out lmao