#at the end of the day its still him yada yada

[koytix]

I missed 4/13 (on Tumblr) so uhhh here is my favourite troll

[calumfmu]

tell me its a bit

"Steve, can I ask you something? What are we doing?"

He pulled away fully to look at you, brows knitted together in confusion as his eyes went back and forth between your eyes and mouth. "Uhh.. sex?"

He loved the cat and mouse game you had once started, not choosing to end it despite him being yours and you being his, despite titles given.

or; the extended version of Baby, No Attachment: Steve continues to reveal his true self to you.

cw: 18+, mdni, soft!Stevie, smut, teasing, spanking (brief), fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, wrap it up kids, cream pie, hair pulling, slight choking kink if you squint, yada yada yaddaaaa (2.8k+ words)

The Steve you had become so accustomed to had been different in the last few weeks since that car ride. Treating you with grace and kindness, he tended to your needs no matter what they were. It had taken some time getting used to, always feeling like he was lying about something despite giving you no reason to believe so. His act had shaped up, him treating you like the princess he had once called you, not hesitating to leap whenever you said jump.

He loved the cat and mouse game you had once started, not choosing to end it despite him being yours and you being his, despite titles given. Still sneaking into your bedroom window at all hours of the day, throwing rocks at the glass, throwing himself at you in the back of his BMW whenever he had the chance, no matter the welcoming arms your mom held for him (she was still his favorite). It made you feel like a young preteen again, the excitement of this romance pulling at your heartstrings in every possible good way there was.

The window was open, blowing in cold air as late winter made its final claim in Hawkins. Bedroom curtains were bunched up at the windowsill, caught up from where he had fallen through, shoes kicked off at the bottom. His jacket was thrown somewhere on the floor, half draped over the radio that softly played George Michael in the background. He had insisted on turning it on, whispering ‘We’re gonna get caught’ despite you urging ‘My mom loves you, shut up’. It didn’t stop him, silent moans filling the air as he touched you, your bodies so familiar with one another.

You were pressed into the mattress, both mouths slotted together as one of his hands snaked at your chest, slowly unbuttoning your top as he half-laid on you. His bulge ground into your thigh, small gasps escaping his mouth as you tugged at his hair.

Pulling away slightly, you mumbled into his mouth, “Steve, can—can I ask you something?”

He barely nodded, moving his weight over you to push you further into the bed. The hand at your chest moved to caress your hip, fingers splayed wide across the skin.

“What are we doing?”

He pulled away fully to look at you, brows knitted together in confusion as his eyes went back and forth between your eyes and mouth.

“Uhh… sex?” He laughed, leaning into you to return to his previous position. You stopped him with a touch to his chest. He looked even more confused than he did previously, shaking his head at you.

“No, Steve,” you sighed, slightly rolling your eyes at his comment. One thing you learned about him was that the boy loved playing dumb, especially when it came to actually discussing important things. “Like what are we?”

Realization crossed his face as his eyebrows shot up, an ‘O’ formed between his lips. The look went away as quickly as it appeared, a smirk given to you.

“You’re my girl, right?” He returned his mouth to yours, moving his hand lower to run across your inner thigh. Frustrated, you pushed him completely off of you, noticing the way he just looked so shocked at your fast movement.

He remained silent as you sat up, turning your body to look at him as he was laid on the bed, stuck in the position that he fell in. His hair tussled over his face, eyebrows raised and hands slightly up as he seemed to be awaiting your next move.

“Are you serious?” Your voice was raised, anger between your eyes as you looked down at him. He seemed small in the moment, a red blush crossing his cheeks.

“Do you not want to be?”

“No, Ste—” you cut yourself off with a sigh as you pinched your nose bridge, pulling your knees to your chest. You searched for the patience to deal with him, not understanding why he didn’t get it. “Steve. That’s not what I mean.”

“Well… what do you mean? I thought we were, like, together,” he asked, voice small compared to yours as he slowly sat up. He raised to lean on one hand, the other being placed on your knee, rubbing the skin.

You shot your eyes open to look at him, a loud cackle thrown at him that caused his face to fall. You felt bad to laugh at him, realizing that this ‘King Steve’ who had fallen from grace had so much to learn about girls, despite revolving his life around them.

“Together?” He pulled away from you, moving to sit at the end of the bed with his back turned to you. You saw him lean over on his knees, heard him clear his throat in discomfort. “Babe…”

He ignored the nickname as you moved to perch behind him, pulling him so his back was pressed to your chest, your head resting at his shoulder. Wrapping your arms around him, you felt him relax into the embrace, head tilting onto yours. With your legs on opposite sides of his hips, you leaned into him, the size difference between the two of you causing you to melt.

“Babe… we’re not together because… you never asked me,” you whispered, pressing kisses to his cheek in the pauses of your words. His head turned to look at you, shock the only emotion you could decipher.

“I never asked you?”

“No, dummy,” you giggled, pressing kisses to his cheek and jawline interchangeably. He fucking giggled at the touches of your lips on his skin, tilted his head to try to ‘avoid’ them, yet he made no other effort to move—you knew he loved it.

“Well, do you want to be my girl th—my girlfriend then?” He asked you, looking at you through long lashes, blinking slow as he became shy. You pressed your lips together, shaking your head, laughing as his mouth dropped open at you.

“No?” His voice raised a pitch, suddenly moving so you fell into his arms with a loud laugh. Steve pressed kisses to your nose this time, nuzzling his face into yours as he held you.

“That’s not going to cut it, Harrington.” His last name fell from your lips in a faux-mock, you haven’t muttered his last name since the two of you made amends, if you wanted to call it that—really it actually was just the two of you fucking for the first time in the back of his car. It felt foreign to you, cheesy nicknames shared behind closed doors and whiny drawls of each other's names replacing it.

He paused for a moment, face inches away from your own as he studied you. Drawing your eyes over his features, you took note of the moles dotting his face, constellations drawn in the beauty marks that you loved to trace your fingers over. Steve Harrington was a beauty, a wonder that you felt so grateful to have between your fingertips. Words couldn’t describe the feelings you had bubbling in your chest for him, he was everything and more you had thought him to be.

His breath hit your face with a flutter of your eyes closed, enjoying the bliss of being in his arms.

“You’re going to make me work for it, princess?” The nickname he used to call you had you shivering, arousal pooling between your thighs. His voice dropped an octave, a chill through your spine at the lowness.

“Mhmm,” you mumbled, digging your teeth into your bottom lip as he leaned into you, pressing a kiss to your mouth.

“I can do that,” he whispered back, deepening the kiss as he maneuvered the two of you to the previous position you held, you on your back, legs sprawled with him in between. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling at it as he ground down into you.

“What else are you going to make me work for?”

One of his hands trailed down the length of your abdomen, fingertips dancing over your stomach before settling at your groin. Your legs widened without a second thought, hips arching onto the touch. He began to work a small circle over your clothed clit, the material dampening as your wetness deepened.

“Ah—” your voice cut off as you tried to respond to him, his fingers working magic as you began to fall apart.

“Not so much to say now, yeah?” He laughed at you, mouthing at your neck as a breathy sigh escaped you. As much as you hated to admit it, you loved this side of him, the cockiness that once was returning to your lover boy, dominating the situation as he made you melt.

“Shut it, Harrington.”

The only words you were able to mutter before he took over, filling up your senses with his body against yours. He was overwhelming, crowding your brain with thoughts of him, thoughts of his touch, his everything. His fingers began to creep lower, pushing your panties to the side as he ran a finger over your slit.

He leaned up to nip at your ear, teeth digging at the lobe of skin, your neck craning to the side as you exhaled in pleasure.

"Not quite sure I like that name anymore," he whispered against your skin, tongue darting out to lick at the skin beneath your ear. He exhaled against you, the coolness of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

"You-"

You couldn't speak as he began to tease you, finger inching into you slightly, just for him to remove it, reaching up to toy with your clit ever-so-slightly.

"I?" He dragged out the letter, leaning back to smirk down at you as he questioned what you were going to say. Irritation crossed your features as you took him in between hooded eyes, lids fluttering shut as he took his teasing to a new level.

His hand left your underwear, grasping your hand between his as he grinded against you. His clothed crotch rubbed between your legs, an exasperated sigh leaving you.

"Steve."

Your tone was firm this time, chastising him as he pushed your leg up with his own. Your free hand reached down to grab at the top of his jeans, fingertips dancing over the button there.

"Yes, princess?" His breath grew a little more shallow, his head dipping to watch your fingers slowly unbutton his jeans, the zip sliding down audibly in the room. His bulge poked out of his jeans, boxers tenting towards you.

"Cut the act."

With a nod, it was over—his mouth was pressed into yours, and his hands were pushing down his jeans, boxers following suit. His cock sprang free of its restraint, beat red and dripping with arousal. In the heat of the moment, you were flipped over, ass sticking straight into the air with your underwear pulled down mid thigh.

It was just enough freedom of the two of your sexes to make ends meet, the head of his cock nudging between your legs, pressing at your entrance. He had his fingers tangled in your hair, yanking your head back as he entered you in a swift motion, pressing to the hilt.

The two of you groaned in unison, hips flush to one another with Steve taking a break to breath, his head pushed towards the ceiling.

"Fuck, you're so—"

He cut himself off, a hard smack filling the air as his hand made contact with the plump skin of your ass. You pushed your hips back at the assault to your ass, groaning as he pressed even deeper.

"You're going to fucking kill me, princess."

He began to thrust into you, hips rutting into your own. It was quick, thrusts relentless and brutal as he fucked into you. Your hands tried gripping at the sheets around you, failing as the movements had you faltering, body rocking in unison with his own.

His name left your mouth in high pitched whines, eyes fluttering shut with the pleasure that overcame your senses.

"Ste-Steve, fuc-"

You could barely get a word out as he continued rutting into you, his hand gripping your hair tightly, the other running over the skin of your back, reaching down to rub at your lower back, rearing back to smack down into your cheek. The loud sounds of your sex and the smacking of his hand filled the room, becoming louder with each thrust.

You tried shushing him, worried that the sounds would be able to be heard from downstairs. The last thing you needed was your mom coming up the stairs, opening the door to find her sweet daughter in this compromising position.

He leaned over you, pressing your hips into the mattress as he continued fucking into you, grinding his hips in small motions. The atmosphere of the room changed, love filling the air as his hand left your hair, reaching around and down under to grip at your neck. Your neck craned back as he pulled you into him, back to chest.

Steve's breath was hot in your ear, small grunts leaving him.

"Is this what you wanted?" He asked, tone of his voice gruff with arousal.

You attempted to nod, eyes squeezing shut and sweat prickling at your hairline from the heat of the moment. He reached down underneath you to rub at your clit, the bundle of nerves growing more sensitive as the two of you were brought closer to completion.

"Making me work for it—you're such a tease, princess."

The nickname had you whimpering, memories of your prior relationship flooding back. That first night spent together filling your mind, overcoming the small amount of senses that you had left.

A high pitched uhh left you, breath caught in your throat as his grip tightened, hips grinding down into you even further. He couldn't get any deeper, reaching that spot inside of you that was only reserved for him.

"'S not enough, Harrington."

You were insistent on teasing him, eyebrows knitted together, eyes squeezed shut. He quickened his pace, pulling out almost completely just to thrust back into you.

His fingers at your clit sped up, he sensed how close you were solely on how your body tensed up.

"Come on, princess. I know y—"

His hand covered your mouth as you came, drowning out the loud whine that escaped you. He knew your body so well, knew exactly when to stop torturing your clit, when to slow his thrusts so you wouldn't become overwhelmed. Steve's own pleasurable end reached him, a low groan suppressed by pressing his face between your shoulder blades as he came deep inside you.

"Ah, fuck, princess, I lov-"

He cut himself off, another moan escaping him as he bottomed out before pulling out, collapsing on the bed next to you. You took a few moments in silence, catching your breath before turning to face him, blinking slow as you took him in.

Fingers reaching to you, he pulled you closer to him, pulling up the blanket that was pushed to your feet in the same motion. It was so domestic, this moment, your favorite side of Steve making an appearance that was slowly becoming the main event of your relationship.

He lay beside you, leaning on one elbow and hip, his fingers running over the expanse of your skin. You were starstruck in his beauty, the way his hair fell over his eyes, the slight glimmer of sweat sticking to his skin, moles dotting his body even in places the sun couldn't reach. And he was all yours, even if he was being stubborn, being Steve about it.

"You know I loved you the entire time?" He suddenly said, low in tone as he stared you down. Eyes leaving his body, you looked into his deep brown, shock evident on your face.

"I-you what?"

It was the first time these words left his mouth. You knew how you felt, but it was shocking to hear it from him.

"Since the day I saw you, I loved you. Love you," he confirmed, finger running up his body to run against your breastbone. He hovered over your heart, mimicking the shape of one over the skin.

"So... you were being an asshole just for fun?" You teased, turning on your side to lean into his space. Being in his proximity brought you a comfort that should have scared you, but definitely didn't.

He smirked at you, wiggling his eyebrows as he recalled the memories of your early relationship.

"How else was I supposed to make you fall for me?"

Your mouth dropped open in faux shock, your hand reaching up to slap at his chest. A guffaw left him as he grimaced at the red mark forming.

Rubbing at the spot, he whined your name. "Well it worked, didn't it?"

You rolled your eyes playfully, pretending to turn up your face at him. Turning on your side away from him, you closed your eyes, ushering sleep.

"You're such an asshole, Harrington."

You felt his arm snake around you, pulling you into his chest, both of your naked bodies pressed against each other. Instantly, you melted in his arms, your own hand coming up to grip at him.

"I love you too, princess."

Ah jeez, here it is. I love this pairing so much, I never want to part ways with them. part three.

Masterlist. <3

[mariasont]

Ideas From a Book - A.H

a/n: im writing what i want !!!!!!!!!!!!! i have a gun kink SUE ME !!! if you don't like it don't read it !!!!!!!

anyhow HAPPY READING

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which hotch comes home to find you reading and finds out you have a gun kink

warnings: 18+ MDNI, a lot going on here yall idk, gun going in ur vag, reader loves smut she's just like me fr, gun kink!, dirty talk, established relationship, yada yada

wc: 2.3k

When Hotch returned home from work, the ritual he had was comforting in its predictability: shedding his coat and shoes, setting down his briefcase, and locking up his gun. Then, he'd find you, as he always did, nestled into the couch, book in hand. 

It was something he could count on, as reliable as the sun rising in the morning. Your bookshelf was a spectrum of genres--science fiction, poetry, mystery, historical, fantasy--name it, you've likely read it. Among these, he had noticed a trend--your favoritism for romance. It was fitting, as you've always been an ardent believer in fairytales and happy endings. It was a belief he intended to uphold, a fairytale ending he was set on creating for you. 

The book you held today had a cover he didn't recognize. He cleared his throat, announcing his arrival. Your eyes met his in an instant, and he was struck anew by just how pretty you are. Effortlessly so. He told you as much, though you seldom accepted the compliment. 

"Hi, handsome," you said, infusing your words with honey as you folded the corner of your page and laid the book aside. Spencer would scold you for that. "How was work?"

A shrug rolled off his shoulders, fingers working to loosen the tie that felt like a noose after a long day. Stepping further into the living room, he sighed, "Heavy with paperwork."

"That's no fun," you said, lips curving into a delicate pout. 

It was an invitation he couldn't ignore. Leaning in, his hands found your face, and as your lips met, you giggled, pulling back just enough to study his face, the harsh lines under his eyes, reading the fatigue on his features like a well-thumbed novel. 

"What are you reading?" he questioned, easing down next to you, the couch dipping to his weight. 

You dodged his eyes, fingers absently fidgeting with your earlobe as you gave him a half-smile, tilting the book just enough so he couldn't catch the title.  

"Just some romance book," you admitted, with a slight uptick in your voice. "Garcia recommended it."

He regarded you with a contemplative frown. Normally, a book you would have gone on for hours, detailing every character, plot twist, and subplot, dissecting its layers and intricacies in exhaustive detail. 

Aaron watched as you placed the book on the side table, movements deliberate. You positioned yourself across his lip, a seemingly innocent distraction. It almost worked. Your soft thighs sinking into his calloused hands, as if they were crafted just for him. He recognized your ploy, though, giving your leg a squeeze a little tighter than necessary. 

You leaned in, your breath tinged with the minty traces of your afternoon tea, a detail as intimate as any secret shared between lovers. He nipped at your lip, a gentle diversion, as his hand crept towards the book.

You wriggled in his hold, vying to get there first, but he was faster. Much faster at that, although you loved to challenge him on that. He secretly loved when you did. He loved you. 

"What are you doing?" Your voice was rising in a panicked pitch. You stretched your hand out, trying to reclaim it, but he kept it just beyond reach.

Aaron's arm formed a band around you, effectively pinning your arms to your torso while you writhed within his grasp. A groan was stifled in his throat. "Quit that."

You smiled, a hint of tease in the curve of your lips and stilled. You were acutely aware of the effect you had on him, and it was a feat achieved with little effort. 

"Why are you being so secretive about this?"

He nodded to the book. The cover was unassuming, black with a smattering of designs that sprawled across it. It looked like any other book you read.

"I'm not being secretive," you insisted, deliberately avoiding his probing gaze. "You're just being nosy."

"Oh, am I?" He couldn't help but laugh, nose crinkling as he dismissed the notion with a shake of his head.

You nodded, not saying anything in response. He thumbed through the book, opening it to a random page.

"Wait--," you pleaded, but his attention was already glued to the ink. You wrapped yourself around him, your face buried in the folds of his crisp dress shirt as you murmured into the fabric, "please don't."

His arm shifted from your waist to cradle the back of your neck. "Gasping at the cool metal of the gun running across my belly, I want him press it into my panties."

Your breath caught, warmth flooding your cheeks as you pressed your face deeper into his chest. "Aaron, stop."

But he didn't, of course, he was far too intrigued.

"Parting my legs, I roll into the metal. He runs it back and forth across my pussy, wetting it against the barrel to my entrance," He continued, wetting the pad of his thumb as he turned the page, eyes meeting yours. 

He cocked an eyebrow as if waiting for your response. You didn't give him one, huffing a sigh as you plucked the book from his hands and flung it onto the cushions of the couch.

"Are you...into this?" He articulated each word with deliberate slowness, as if navigating a minefield. "This is a little intense."

You groan, tucking your chin down to your chest as you fought against the tingling sensation clawing up your spine.

"I don't know." The words tumbled out in a murmur, a feeble shield against the embarrassment flooding your senses.

It was the truth. You didn't know. Ink on a page was a far cry from reality. Nonetheless, your recent daydreams were filled with images of Aaron with his gun. God, forbid you see him on duty.

He shifted you off his lap, and you felt the corners of your mouth turn downward involuntarily. You watched his retreating figure vanish down the hall, your thoughts racing at breakneck speed, gripped by the fear that you had scared him off, that this was his tipping point.

The welling tears were poised to fall, but they paused as he came back into view. Holding his gun.

Your breath halted, a knot forming in your throat as you clumsily rose to your knees on the couch, your eyes wide and transfixed on him.

You watched, more like ogled, as he methodically removed the magazine, opening the action and ejecting the cartridges of the gun, putting the safety into place. Your throat felt dry. His advance towards you was predatory, a slow march that rekindled a well-known flutter in your stomach.

"Aaron?"

He stepped in front of you, the firearm dangling loosely at his side. You gazed up at him, peering through the shelter of your lashes.

"Do you want me to fuck you with this?"

You knew you said you didn't know if this was something you were into, yet here you were, retracting every syllable. Suddenly so incredibly turned on it almost hurt.

You nodded vigorously, your enthusiasm outpacing your self-awareness.

The look he gave you was one you recognized instantly, eliciting yet another soft pout before you gave in. "Yes, please, Aaron."

"Good girl," he said, making your heart skip a beat as he pressed the nose of the gun into your chest, forcing you backward. "Always so good for me."

You nodded again, even though there was no need to, but you weren't really focused on his words. You were focused on the gun pressing into your body, imagining it pressed against your clit, up your pussy.

"You're sure, um," you managed, trying to catch your breath, pausing in the middle of your sentence to clear your throat, "that all the safety stuff is on?"

You sounded dumb, you were aware, but all intellectual thoughts were out the window.

He let out a deep chuckle, the sound sending another wave of desire straight to your core. "Yes, baby, all of the safety stuff is on."

"Okay, good."

He pressed his lips to yours, the gun still flush against your chest, now grazing your nipple as you arched into him.

He pulled back only enough to speak into your mouth. "What's your safe word?"

"Mercy."

He hummed in response, fingers threading through your hair as he pushed the barrel of the gun down your stomach. You froze, a subtle gap forming between your lips as your eyes remained locked on the motion.

He brought his mouth to your ear, nipping at the skin lightly as he pushed the metal further down your body, lifting the hem of your shirt with it. You gasped at the feeling, pulling your bottom lip through your teeth as you tried to hide just how affected you were.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes." It was immediate. Without hesitation.

He kissed your lips, gentle and unhurried, as if he was savoring the sensation, like he thought I might crumble under too much pressure. He might be right.

"Take these off."

His gun pressed against the waistband of your shorts. You didn't waste a second, lifting your hips and shimmying out of the fabric. A sound of approval vibrated from his throat, his fingers entwining in your hair, gently drawing your face closer to his.

"Are you sure about this?"

A nod came naturally, followed by a yes breathed out like a prayer, as your eyes trailed down to in between your thighs where the gun was now sitting. 

"Aaron, I need it."

"Oh, you need it, huh?" He tsked his tongue, running the nose of the gun over your clothed heat. "I can tell."

You let out a sharp gasp, bucking your hips into the device as you met his eyes, willing him to keep going. You had never been more turned on in your life. His hand moved from your neck to the small of your waist, pinning you in place. With one hand. Fuck.

He laid the gun beside your hip on the couch in order to pull your panties off. You squirmed at the rush of cold air encompassing between your thighs. His eyes were glued to your pussy, tongue darting out to swipe across his lips.

"Christ sweetheart," he hissed, sliding one finger through your slit, showing you the moisture you had produced. "Needy girl."

"Aaron, please." You needed something inside of you.

He laughed, at your expense, but you didn't care, concentrated on his hand grabbing the Glock and repeating the action his finger just did.

You choked out a sound, stuttering against the touch. He in a merciful mood apparently, pushing the gun slowly into your sopping cunt. You were writhing against it, your mouth parted as you tried to get used to the foreign object.

"You okay?" He asked, pausing his motions, giving you a second to adjust.

You swallowed; gaze drawn down to where he was sliding the gun into you. You bit down on your lip hard enough to draw blood.

"Yes."

"You can take it," he said, but the way the firearm was stretching you made you unsure.

It wasn't the size necessarily, but the way the groves and magazine were cramming into you was making hold your breath, which him being him he noticed immediately.

His hand rested gently against the pouch of your stomach. "Breathe."

The pent-up breath escaped your lips, and he rewarded you by sinking the gun further into your pussy. You fingers wrapped around his biceps, the tips digging slightly into the constellation of freckled skin.

One final thrust and it was fully in you. You could feel every groove and contour of it, cunt clenching and unclenching at the sensation. 

"Look at you," he drawled, beginning to fuck you with it. It transcended the prose of any book, a sensation that no array of printed words could fully capture. "You like that?"

Nodding was your only recourse, mouth hanging pathetically open as you moaned and whined. You were in a daze-like state, every sound and motion involuntary.

"This is the Glock 17," he explained, thrusting the gun faster, causing you to tighten your hands around his neck, bringing him so close his words were melting into your skin. "It feeds from a staggered-column magazine that has a 17-round capacity. It sends 115 gr bullets downrange at about 1200 feet per second."

You could feel your arousal leaking to your thighs, coating his forearm in the process, but that would never stop him.

"This gun has taken the lives of nineteen unsubs."

You know this should make you coil away, that it should feel wrong somehow, but all you felt was that growing tightness in your core, your legs shaking, your chest rising and falling at a more rapid pace.

"You don't even care, do you? All you care about is getting yourself off." His chuckles wove through his words, and his motions didn't falter, intent of ushering you to your peak. "My dirty girl."

You were so close, the edges of the gun managing to hit every spot just right.

"Come on, honey."

Fuck. You let out another strangled gasp, way louder than intended as your back arched like a string of a bow, and then suddenly you released.

A prism of colors exploded behind your squeezed eyes. A collage of musical notes falling over your ears. Your whole body was being ignited as you gushed around the gun.

"Christ." His new favorite word as of late. He withdrew the weapon from you.

You let out a subdued hum, propping yourself on your elbows, your eyes lazily rising to meet his with a tender flutter.

"You're so pretty," he murmured, the compliment settling on you like dew on morning flowers. Your gaze caught the gun, now bathed in a liquid gloss, cradled in his hands.

"Oh my god," you said, hand covering your mouth.

He laughed softly, placing it on the coffee table before his lips brushed against yours, a soft and measured caress that belied his previous urgency.

"You might need a new one," you said sheepishly, heat creeping into your ears as he pressed another soft kiss to your cheek.

"Absolutely not," he murmured into your flushed skin. "It just became my gun of choice."

You were going to give him the best head of his life.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[justwinginglife]

The Unwitting Confession

Inspired by my bestie @ectopodl3, thanks for always matching my freak, love ya!

It had been roughly 6 months since Soshiro Hoshina joined the Third Division as its Vice Captain and it was an eventful 6 months to say the least. Everyone had been clambering over each other to get a good look at the new Vice Captain and even now they were still on the fence about what they saw. The poor guy had to fight twice as hard as anyone else to prove he deserved the spot and some people still required more evidence from him. For 6 long months, he took on whatever grueling task he could get his hands on to show the world that he was more than capable to lead a division. And for 6 long months, you were right there in the trenches beside him.

You had been both Captain Ashiro's favorite platoon leader and close personal friend for awhile now, so when she had made the decision to invite Hoshina to the Third Division, you fully supported it (in fact, you were the only one who supported it). Because of this, she relied heavily on you to help him transition into his new role.

You made quite the impression on him from day one. You knew everyone else would be skeptical of him and Mina was counting on you to make him feel comfortable, so you went a little overboard in welcoming him. That day, he arrived at his new office to find his desk covered in all manner of drinks- coffee, juice, milk, water, smoothie, soda. You had just placed the final can on his desk when he came in looking quite shocked. You rubbed the back of your head sheepishly. "Well this is certainly one way to meet you Vice Captain," you laughed. "I couldn't figure out what kind of drink you liked so I bought them all." You gestured to the gifts you'd laid out for him.

You thought he would just keep staring at you all day like some strange circus attraction but then to your surprise, he started laughing uncontrollably. His eyes filled with tears and he even had to steady a hand on the doorframe to keep himself from toppling over from the sheer exertion of laughing so hard. "You better help me finish all of this." He said, finally catching his breath, "Hey- what's your name anyway?"

So, despite Mina having drawn up an entire itinerary she had wanted you to follow on his first day (give him a tour, introduce him to the other officers, yada yada), you and Hoshina ended up spending the entire time just talking and drinking in his office.

"Ooh- this one's pretty good, have a sip." You passed the lemonade over to him and he eagerly took it from you.

"Mmm, I like it but the coffee was better." He said as he chugged the drink. "Fuck, now I have to pee." He laughed.

"Hey! I wasn't finished drinking that!" You pouted, watching as he added the empty can to the stack of other empty cans.

He shrugged. "It was my gift, wasn't it?"

"I'm gonna have Mina demote you. I'm thinking cadet."

He laughed again and the feeling in your chest told you the sound was starting to grow on you.

"Please be my guest, I think everyone would be happier if I wasn't the Vice Captain anyway." He said, speaking the first serious thing you'd heard him say all day.

You nudged him with your shoulder. "I wouldn't. You're actually growing on me, Vice Captain. Even if you are a lemonade hog."

There was that laugh of his again. "How 'bout this? I'll make you a deal. I'll stay Vice Captain and I'll bring you a lemonade every now and then if you promise to follow all my orders."

You rolled your eyes and nudged him again, this time leaning into his shoulder. "Now where's the fun in that? I think you'd have such a good time running around trying to keep up with me, why would I want to spoil that for you?"

He grinned and you thought you felt your heart skip a beat. "Alright I think you really oughta show me the bathroom now before you go telling anymore jokes. I can't laugh anymore than I already have without bursting my bladder." He stood up from the floor where you two had been sitting, brushed up against each other, and held a hand out to you. You took it and he hoisted you to your feet.

"I'm supposed to give you a tour anyway so I guess we can start with the bathroom. Wouldn't want the new Vice Captain to pee his pants."

You both took off down the hallway, knocking your shoulders up against each other, and swaying with laughter.

And that was that- friends in an instant.

If people had seen the two of you from afar, they would've thought you'd been friends since birth the way you two were inseparable after that. You wanted to train? Hoshina would follow right behind, eager to knock you down a peg. He wanted to go for a walk? You'd say there's no way in good conscious you could let a little lady like him walk alone so late at night. He'd punch in you in the arm but let you tag along anyway. You wanted to have dinner alone? Too bad- he wanted a bite of your dumpling. No, actually he wanted all of your dumplings. But he bought you some more afterwards.

You'd even have your fair share of arguments- you may have brought up his brother too much (only because you were so curious about his home life) and he may have shot back that the reason you'd been single so long was because you did dumb insensitive shit like bringing up his brother too much. And then you wouldn't speak to each other for days. But then you'd cut yourself and he'd bandage it for you, grumbling that it was inconceivable how a member of the defense force could be so inept with a knife, or his stomach would growl and you'd grumpily hand him your last granola bar, and then everything would slowly go back to normal between you two again. It was all the little things that made you realize you couldn't live without him. And some part of him had to know he couldn't live without you too. Not anymore.

So now, 6 months later, you're on your way to work, texting Hoshina that you bet you'll beat his lazy ass there, and then you see a crowd of news reporters outside the base. Mina had just sent you and Hoshina to dispatch of a large kaiju roaming downtown yesterday and the reporters couldn't believe that he'd took down the beast and not you so they were there for the "real answers." You were so tired of dealing with all the people who couldn't accept how amazing Hoshina was. For months, you talked with reporters, officers, supervisors, and really just anyone who'd listen about how skilled and inspiring Hoshina was but all your effort had been slow to take effect.

Eventually Hoshina caught on that you were fighting all his battles for him behind the scenes and he made you stop. He was so pure and good, he thought he'd just change their minds with his actions. Said he'd win them over eventually if he worked hard enough. It was that kind of thinking that made you love him and made you all the more pissed to hear people shit talking him.

So today, you're fully prepared to tear the crowd a new one (yet again), when you hear a voice from behind you. "Boy they really don't know when to quit do they? It's like, just leave the man alone."

You turn to see a civilian walking up to you, scoffing at the crowd. You're both shocked and pleasantly surprised that someone besides you is defending Hoshina. You nod enthusiastically. "Yeah, it's like he's done so much for the city and you want to undermine all of that? It's ridiculous."

The civilian nods. "I was there when he took down that kaiju yesterday, I know he's the real deal. The two of you actually make a pretty good team- are you guys dating?"

You choke on your coffee. "Oh, um, us? No we're- we're not together." You say quickly.

The civilian raises an eyebrow. "So you're telling me you don't find that muscled man attractive? Not in the slightest?"

You blush. "I really shouldn't be talking with you about this. I barely know you."

The civilian laughs. "Oh come on. Woman to woman. Don't tell me you haven't thought about what it would be like."

You sigh. You haven't told anyone how you feel about the Vice Captain, not even Mina. It would be nice to vent it all out. And this is a stranger you'll never see again. Fuck it. "Okay fine. I am completely in love with him but that's a secret okay? Who wouldn't be in love with the guy? He's strong, he's handsome, he's loyal, he's funny, he's dedicated, he steals my food but then he replaces it. I mean he's a catch all around. I just really wish people could see him the way I see him. He's a great guy who really cares about people, and that's all there is to it." You shrug as if you're simply reciting a textbook with common knowledge, but inside you're a simple woman who's dying to hear this random civilian tell you more about how you make such a good couple with Hoshina. But this bonding moment is interrupted. By Hoshina.

He's up ahead, across the street from you, and he's yelling and waving at you to hurry up and cross already so you can walk to work together. You excuse yourself, earning a wink and a "go get him tiger" from the stranger, and you run through traffic blushing as you greet him.

"What was that about?" He asks, pointing at the now fading silhouette of the stranger you had just been talking to.

You grin. "Oh nothing- I just met a fan of yours, that's all."

You arrive at work a couple minutes later, Hoshina still demanding for more answers about this so-called fan of his, unaware he even had fans, when suddenly you're greeted at the door by Captain Ashiro herself. She never greets you at the door. And she does not look happy. She looks... constipated? Stressed? You can't quite figure out what face she's making but you realize the face she's making is for you when she finally pulls you into her office and slams the door behind her, shoving her phone at you.

"Mina, Mina what is it, you're scaring me- oh SHIT."

I am completely in love with him but that's a secret okay? Who wouldn't be in love with the guy? He's strong, he's handsome, he's loyal, he's funny, he's dedicated, he steals my food but then he replaces it. I mean he's a catch all around. I just really wish people could see him the way I see him. He's a great guy who really cares about people, and that's all there is to it... to it....that's all there is to it...

You stare at the video of you that's playing on repeat. Notifications flood the phone as you realize you're now going viral with your secret love confession for the Vice Captain.

You think your cheeks might be on fire and your throat is rapidly going dry. You think you might just die. Then it hits you.

"Oh. Oh no. Oh no no no. Where's Hoshina's phone? Mina, please tell me he hasn't looked at his phone yet. Oh I know- you distract him, I'll break into his phone, I'm sure I have to know the password by now- you know what, I'll just break his phone. Yeah. Then he won't have access to the internet. All will be fixed. Mina? You in?" You trail off as you realize she's looking at the door to her office that's now just opened behind you.

Fuck.

"You wanna tell me what this is about?"

Fuck.

Mina winces. "I think I'll leave you two alone now." She closes the door behind her.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You don't turn around. You don't breathe. You don't exist.

"You can't ignore me forever, ya know."

Fuck.

You sigh. You slowly turn around to face your doom.

"Hi. Hoshina. What's up?"

He rolls his eyes. "Don't 'what's up' me, what's up with you? What's up with this?" He holds his phone up with the video that's on replay. I am completely in love with him, but that's a secret okay? I am completely in love with him, but that's a secret okay?

You groan and collapse into Mina's office chair, burying your face in your hands, waiting to die. "Go on. Say what you want." You mumble through your fingers.

You hear him walking up to you and before you have time to think about how mortified you are, he kneels on the ground in front of you and yanks your wrists away from your face. "I want to know if it's true."

You roll your eyes. "Did you not just hear my voice on the video saying I love you? Do you really need to rub it in and hear me say it live?"

He nods sincerely, giving your wrists a squeeze. "I do. I need to hear you say it. I don't care about the news, what I care about is you and right now I need to know how you feel."

You inhale and for a moment you consider not exhaling and just passing out to avoid answering. But then you let out the breath. "It's true. I love you. I've been in love with you. For awhile now."

He smiles softly as if to say everything is okay now and you're lost in the gentle curve of his lips. God you want to taste kiss him so bad.

"Well I'd say I love you too but I don't know if I need a reporter in the room for it to count."

Never mind. You don't want to kiss him anymore. You punch his arm.

He chuckles.

Then he pulls you down to the floor with him and the two of you sit there for a moment, shoulder to shoulder, just like you did when you first met. Then he nudges his head up against your shoulder and whispers, "I really do love you."

And now you kiss him.

[lohotine]

AN: Def seems like the person to deny being sick, and act like a little bastard, and not take medicine, and just act whiney and clingy

Sick! Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader

Oneshot (headcanons below)

Warnings: idk, just a silly little post of our favorite trickster ☆☆☆

-Sick-

"Shadow Milk, you have to take the medicine or you're not going to get better!"

"I already told you- It's gross and I don't wanna!"

This back and forth had been going on for who knows how long.

You see, Shadow Milk had caught a cold, and you have been trying to get him to take medicine to recover. The only problem was, he was being a stubborn little brat.

"And I'm fine! It's just a cough. I'm not even sick-"

Oh, and there was that too. He kept insisting that he was fine when he clearly wasn't.

"You threw up an hour ago."

"That's unrelated."

You frowned.

"If you don't take it then I'm going to become sick. You would want that, right?"

He glared at you. "I don't like how you're using your own health against mine," he'd say.

"Fine, give it here," he reached his hand out for the bottle of medicine, to which you happily gave him.

Then he began to gulp it down by the bottle-full.

"MILKTHATSNOTHOWYOURESUPPOSEDTOTAKETHEMEDICINE-" You'd scream out in mild panic.

"Just be grateful I'm even taking it in the first place!" He'd hiss.

He finished the entire bottle.

"This stuff tastes gross. I don't know how you normal people do it," He'd stick out his tongue, and you would snatch the now empty bottle from his hands.

"That's because you're not supposed to drink all of it."

"Yada Yada, rules aren't really my thing, doll. Anyway, am I like.. not sick anymore?"

What a clueless, loveable, idiot.

"...No. You have to wait a while,"

He had a disgusted look on his face.

"Are you serious? I drank that whole bottle and it doesn't even cure me? That's such a scandal." He would cross his arms.

"Again, you weren't supposed to drink it all."

"Yeah yeah, my bad. Now hurry up and cuddle me. It's been much to long since I've last had you in my arms." He would reach his arms out for you, making grabbing hands and a pouting face.

"No way- I don't want to catch what you have."

He ignored your response and snatched you under the covers with him.

You were really stuck now. You both know that if Shadow Milk wants something, it's his. And in the current moment, he wanted your attention.

"If you do end up getting sick, then I'll be the one to take care of you."

It was going to be a long week.

Headcanons ☆

Runs around the house to avoid taking medicine

Denies being sick, even though he sneezes like every five seconds

Refuses to rest

Will get abnormaly warm, but will still complain about being cold

Will cuddle you in the night and you're legit overheating

He says sorry but doesn't do anything about it

Either takes all of the blankets from you, or puts ALL of the blankets on both of you

Either way, he uses all of the blankets

Ten times clingy, but he insists its for 'no reason in particular.'

Gets so whiney and needy

If he doesn't have your attention 24/7 he screams

Will 100% use his sick status to avoid responsibilities

Still a flirty bastard

If he ever seems to get randomly better, he'll say it's because of your love

One time has attempted to start an... interesting doctor and patient role play

You shut down the idea quickly and he wouldn't stop nagging you about it for the rest of the day

[faebaex]

Tangled in Wonderland - Tall, Tall Tales

author note: Eeeeek this is very, very late! A lot of stuff has happened and yada yada but I’m here and I’m sorry! I’m still going to continue with this and I hope I can get back on track with writing this because I’m really enjoying this event! This instalment follows on directly from the Scarabia one, I hope you all enjoy!

characters: Floyd Leech x GN!Reader

“SHRIMPY!”

Oh no.

Your whole body froze up in an instant at the sound of that familiar, unhinged voice. Clearly, fate had decided you hadn’t gone through enough punishment today and decided to add a little bit more spice to your day. And by spice, it meant perhaps one of the most chaotic entities you have ever met. You looked around wildly, trying to spot him as quickly as you could so you could run. He was right on the path leading up to the Hall of Mirrors, roguish grin on his face as he waved both his arms at you. Your only choice was to go back inside and escape through one of the mirrors.

“Stay away from me, Leech!” You snapped, not even bothering with your usual faux attempt to be cordial as you turned on your heel, bolting towards the mirrors. If you could just get through the Heartlabyul mirror, you’d be—

“Aha~! Got you.” Breathed a husky voice right by your ear, suddenly tugged straight off your feet and into the air by the lanky arms that coiled around your midsection, your back flush against his chest.

“Shrimpy is so mean, callin’ me by just my last name! Even when I’ve gone through all the effort to give you a lil nickname too!” Floyd mourned, swinging you around the Hall of Mirrors, your legs swinging perilously out in front of you whilst you clutched onto his arms for dear life and let out a small, undignified scream. “Aah, maybe you thought I was Jade? Because I was really far away? Then maybe I can forgive you, Shrimpy…” His sharp teeth were uncomfortable close to your ear as he let out a little laugh, “or maybe I can just keep spinnin’ you around!”

Floyd picked up the speed of his spinning, his manic laughter drowning out your screams and for a moment, you thought this might be how it all ended… But then you remembered, the Leech twins thrive off of fear in their victims, so you sucked it up and started hitting him on his arms to get his attention. If your legs ended up breaking one of the mirrors, you’d never hear the end of it from Crowley…

“P-put me down, Floyd! I am not a toy!” You cried out, and thankfully your repeated hitting of his arms managed to get his attention, for he finally slowed to a stop. The world spun around you, making you semi-grateful for his arms around your waist. They were the only thing holding you up, at this point.

“Eh? Are you sure you’re not a toy? Azul said somethin’ real interesting the other day…”

Uh oh.

“Did he now…” You remarked, feigning disinterest as best as you could as your vision finally began to right itself again.

“Mhmmm~” Floyd mused against your ear, and you just knew this couldn’t be good, “he said you know things. Things that you should have no way of knowing. Kinda like one of those magic 8 ball things.” Floyd continued, before his mouth split into a broad, terrifying grin. “Maybe if I shake you a little, you’ll tell me all sorts of things too.”

“Floyd, don’t—”

It was too late. You clung to Floyd’s arms as he began to shake you erratically, like you were a chocolate bar stuck in a vending machine. Your head collided with his shoulder multiple times, not hard enough to hurt but definitely jarring in its own way as the world once again became dizzying. Floyd seemed to be enjoying himself, his mocking laughter filling the small hall as he watched your rattled expression.

“Oh magic Shrimpy ball, oh magic Shrimpy ball,” he chanted as he continued to shake you, finally beginning to slow down as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, “why did you walk out of the Scarabia mirror just a moment ago?”

Ah, of course he saw that.

With as much strength as you could muster in your dizzy state, you threw an elbow back into his chest, feeling some satisfaction when you heard him let out a small ‘oof’. “That’s none of your business,” you grumbled, your lips turned downwards in distaste. “and that isn’t even how a magic 8 ball works! You’re supposed to ask the question first and then shake it… Don’t start shaking me again!” You quickly warned as a follow up, turning your head to give Floyd a glare. He just gave you that little frustrating grin right back.

“It’s not my fault Shrimpy, I have all this pent-up energy ‘cause you’ve been avoiding me. I’ve missed you.” As if to punctuate his words, he started to squeeze you, and you found yourself once again whacking his arms to get him to release you.

“Floyd! There is no need—” You gasped out, feeling some of your joints cracking harmlessly from the pressure but a tightness building near your ribs that promised pain if he didn’t stop soon. You gasped out a breath when he finally eased up his hold, but very nearly choked when you realised he was waltzing right towards the Octavinelle mirror.

“Floyd, put me down!”

“Nah, Shrimpy, don’t feel like it. Let’s hang out!” Floyd responded in his usual lackadaisical manner, stepping through the Octavinelle dormitory mirror without pause. It was odd, feeling the usually surreal feeling of a bubble forming around you as you floated towards the dorm, but on top of that, Floyd was still holding you, back flush against his chest with your legs dangling in front of you. You can’t imagine how ridiculous it looked.

Floyd walked you straight into the Mostro Lounge without a care in the world, heading straight for one of the unoccupied booths.

“Oya,” you heard another terribly familiar voice as you passed the bar, “I see you have acquired a valuable customer, Floyd. Please enjoy your stay.” Jade hummed with a short bow, not even bothering to hide his toothy grin as he observed your plight. You didn’t even get a chance to scowl before Floyd was bundling you into a booth, none too gently either.

“What? You told me to put you down.” Floyd drawled when you shot him a glare, sitting opposite you and spreading himself out on the available space. He leaned his elbows onto the table, propping his head up with one palm as he stared straight at you.

“Ne, Shrimpy… Why don’t you tell me what you said to Azul the other week to make him come back all shaken up?” Floyd hummed, his smile seeming playful, but you could already see the predatory glint in his eye.

You narrowed your eyes slightly, unsure of what Floyd’s motive was here.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You responded demurely, keeping tight lipped. Floyd’s smile widened, sharp teeth on full display as he leaned forward. “Don’t be like that, Shrimpy! You should have seen it, it was hilarious!” Floyd cackled thumping his hand on the table in front of them, “he came rushin’ back to the Lounge, all pale faced and jumpy, and then locked himself in the VIP room.”

A cocktail glass filled with a blue liquid and decorated with a star shaped garnish was elegantly placed in front of you. A similar glass was placed in front of Floyd. “Yes, Azul was very startled when he returned to the Lounge the other week. We were very worried.” Jade confirmed, folding his hands in front of him, faux concern colouring his tone, but the amusement shone through his close eyed smile.

“I didn’t order this.” You responded dryly, as Floyd already pulled his straw to his mouth and took a gulp from his drink. “Aww just try it Shrimpy, it’s my own recipe! It’s good, see!” He stuck his tongue out, revealing his stained bright blue tongue. You pushed your glass away from you. Yeah, you definitely weren’t going to be trying that.

“I’m positively hurt, prefect. I mixed that with care, just for you.” Jade hummed, his eyebrows down turning in a look of fake hurt. You ignored him.

“We could hear Azul muttering to himself in the VIP room. ‘Who are they’, ‘how do they know that’. He got so mad when we used Jade’s key to unlock the door. You should have seen his face, Ahaa~”

“You spied on your own friend? You guys are ruthless.” You commented casually, and Floyd only grinned at you wider, Jade’s expression not changing from his solemn one.

“The VIP room was quite the mess, too. Papers all over the floor. Azul wouldn’t even let me help him clean it all up, it must have taken him hours.” Jade added, his smile looking more and more devious by the minute.

“So tell us what you did, Shrimpy.” Floyd prodded.

“Yes tell us, prefect.” Jade coaxed.

Both of the Leech twins stared you down, razor sharp smiles on their faces as they attempted to intimidate you into revealing what happened between you and Azul in the library that day. You were starting to see now why Azul insisted on referring to them as just colleagues.

You were in a bit of a bind here. You expected the stunt you pulled on Azul to have some backlash, and you really didn’t want to make the Leech twins anymore interested in you than they already were. And for whatever reason, Azul hadn’t divulged what you had said to him to Jade and Floyd, who were his closest confidants. Or, this was some sort of elaborate ruse that they had strategized to wheedle the information out of you. Either way, you thought you should probably tread with caution here…

… But Azul had been bothering you again lately…

You leaned back into your seat, looking sheepishly away from them both and staring at the smooth pearlescent surface of the table. “I don’t know guys, it’s kind of… Embarrassing…” You muttered. You caught Jade and Floyd sharing a look between each other before they leaned in closer, like sharks tasting blood.

“Ne, it’s okay, you can tell us, Shrimpy…”

“It might make you feel better to get it off your chest, prefect…”

Hook, line and sinker.

You glanced up at them, the both of them leaning in uncomfortably close but you masked your distaste by rubbing your arm, as if you were feeling flustered by just thinking about the situation. “Well, um…” You began, pausing for dramatic effect, Floyd leaning in closer in anticipation and Jade nodding gently, as if the comfort you for the difficult story you were about to tell.

“Azul had been visiting me in the library after classes for a few days… We were getting along really well… It was, well… It was nice to have a friend. It’s hard sometimes, being the odd one out…” You sighed softly, really hamming it up for them. They were eating it up, leaning closer as you continued, “but Azul never made me feel like that. He was always so kind, so welcoming.” You smiled for a moment, before you face dropped and your lips pressed together into a tight line. “But then…” You hesitated again, your expression creasing into a distressed frown.

“Did something happen, prefect?”

“Yeah, yeah! Tell us Shrimpy!”

“Well… One day suddenly, he… Asked me on a date… But…” You started, but then you covered your face with your hands and shook your head, “oh I can’t say it, it’s just so… So humiliating!” You cried out, your voice muffled by your hands. Floyd and Jade were watching with rapt attention, Jade not even able to hide his obvious enjoyment at both your perceived distress and the opportunity to get some dirt on Azul, whereas Floyd hadn’t been hiding his excitement in the first place.

“But what, Shrimpy?”

“Please prefect, if you tell us, perhaps we can put your mind at ease…”

Slowly, you uncovered your hands from your face, to see the eager faces of the Leech twins nodding at you encouragingly. You leaned in close, and they followed suit, all three of you huddled together in the booth almost conspiratorially. You looked around nervously, before you continued in a hushed whisper.

“I had to turn him down… He got a little upset, understandably. He couldn’t see why I didn’t like him, why I wouldn’t give him a chance…” Floyd and Jade shared a discreet look at that, because that definitely sounded like the Azul they knew. “I tried to comfort him, to tell him that I thought he was a great guy and it was me not him but he just wouldn’t listen! So I had to tell him the truth…” You winced, wringing your hands together. If Floyd and Jade leaned any closer, you’d all be bumping heads together.

“The truth, prefect?”

“Ne, you can tell us, Shrimpy…”

You swallowed, before looking up at them with your best puppy dog eyes. “Okay, please don’t say anything but… … …”

“… I’m allergic to octopus…”

The table fell silent. Floyd and Jade stared at you, motionless, as you peeked up bashfully at them. Then suddenly, Floyd was roaring with laughter, his loud cackle making several of the customers in the Lounge jump in surprise. His hand thumped the table several times, knocking over his drink and sending the bright blue juice spilling all over the shiny white surface and onto the tile below. Jade effortlessly sidestepped before the mess could hit his shoes, but his shoulders were visibly shaking as his hand tried to hide his laughter

“Oh prefect… I’m so pffft… Ahem… I’m so sorry to hear that.” Jade attempted, hand still propped to his chin as he tried to compose himself, rather unsuccessfully screamed with laughter beside him.

“What is going on here?!”

A voice hissed through the Lounge, but the twins didn’t even flinch. If anything, it just sent Floyd into fresh peals of laughter, flopping down on the booth seat as he held his stomach.

Azul stood a few feet away, obviously brought out by the commotion and chaos that was currently happening in your booth. His eyes widened when he saw you sitting there, but he quickly schooled his face again, a detail that Jade caught, making him unable to resist his own toothy grin.

“Jade, you are supposed to be managing the bar. And Floyd, stop that racket right now and get changed. Your shift started thirty minutes ago! And clean up that mess!” Azul ordered with a stern expression, before his eyes landed on you, his lips pursing together, “and I would appreciate it if you didn’t disturb them when they are working, prefect.”

You held your hands up defensively as you started to shimmy out of the booth. “Actually, I was just leaving.”

Your words breathed some life back into Floyd, who’d finally recovered from his laughing fit to sit up and climb out of the booth himself, a rapturous smile on his face. “I’ll walk Shrimpy to the door~!” He announced, throwing a heavy arm around your shoulders before you could rebuff him.

“Floyd! You’re supposed to be—”

“I’m terribly sorry for my negligence, Azul. I was just trying to comfort our dear customer over their recent romantic distress.” Jade chimed in, and the only way you would be able to describe the grin on his face was feral. Floyd began cackling again, using Jade’s distraction of Azul as an opportunity to whisk you away and get out of work at the same time.

You pondered whether you should feel bad for setting up Azul for at least a week’s worth of ribbing from the Leech twins as Floyd steered you towards the Octavinelle mirror, but then you remembered he put an anemone on your cat. And Ace and Deuce. Suddenly, your shoulders felt a lot lighter. Well, they would, if Floyd’s lanky arm wasn’t still around them.

Floyd kept his arm around you right until you reached the exit of the Octavinelle dorm, but you chalked it up to him being on a good mood high because of what you’d just told him and Jade. But just as you were about to duck out from under his arm, you felt his hot breath against your ear for the second time that day.

“Ne, Shrimpy. Are you allergic to eel too?”

Before you could even react, you were getting sucked up into one of those magical bubbles again as it began carrying you towards the Octavinelle mirror, your expression bewildered as you stared back at Floyd, who sent you off with a cheeky grin.

[astrababyy]

i think the thing that frustrates me the most about feyre's character post-acotar — hell, even post-acomaf — is that she stops being a character past that point in the series. acomaf, i can still see elements of feyre's original character, but i think acowar and beyond (especially acofas and acosf) is where her character devolves completely into something virtually unrecognizable. and this, in my opinion, is because once she and rhysand become established in their relationship, her entire characterization starts to revolve around him.

prior to acomaf/acowar, feyre has a personality independent of the relationships she has with other people. her characterization has its flaws, as the first book is flawed as a whole, but she's generally a decently-crafted character. feyre is an interesting character because, in the first portion of the book, we learn that she's a jaded, clever huntress who is willing to kill to survive and make painful decisions for the good of herself and her family. she's bitter, resentful, and miserable, and the crux of her life revolves around survival.

but then we learn new things. feyre loves painting, and if she had a choice, she'd marry off her sisters and live peacefully with her father, spending her days painting anything her heart could desire. she's capable and an able killer, but her dreams and wants are for a peaceful life. these desires are expanded upon later in the book when we learn that, if given the option, feyre wouldn't kill. she's jaded and can come off as someone who'd be a stereotypical "girlboss," badass killer. but in reality, feyre doesn't like bloodshed. she doesn't like killing, and if she had it her way, she'd never kill another living thing again.

this is interesting. acotar!feyre is actually a very interesting and dynamic character when compared to who she becomes in later books. she has an internal conflict that affects every aspect of who she is, and it is this conflict that is so deeply tied to what she's forced to do in the climax of the story: either kill innocent faeries or watch as the love of her life dies before her very eyes. this final trial is so painful because it's been established that, in a peaceful environment, a killer is not someone feyre wants to be, and a killer is instead what she's forced to become.

then, of course, acomaf happens and yada, yada, yada. she's still a relatively interesting character on her own, if (arguably) ooc, but has an independent characterization regardless. it's after this book where things take a turn for the worse.

in acowar, feyre is no longer the character who protects the "little guy" and would give up petty jewels to make sure a faerie can eat. she's no longer the character who acts based on her morals and inherent humanity, rather than faerie logic. instead, she's the character who destabilizes an entire court on the brink of war, uncaring of the consequences to the people of spring. in acofas, she's buying another goddamn house while people in velaris and beyond are struggling to make ends' meet following the war that she and rhys dragged them into. in acosf, she's doing the same fucking thing to nesta that destroyed and traumatized her a few books previous, and she's become the glorified housewife to rhysand. she's having his kid when she's not even 25 yet. she's being paraded around like some prized horse. she's sitting around, painting and decorating houses, while rhys does all the actual politicking. she's exactly what she feared she'd become in acomaf, and there's no consequence whatsoever.

this is not the feyre of acotar. this feyre is the faceless, empty love interest to the real main character: rhysand. she's a reflection of him. that's why she went from the woman who feels uncomfortable wearing fancy jewels to the woman who'd spend her newfound millions on frivolous lingerie rather than do anything meaningful with her position as high lady. that's why she went from the character who had respect and a new understanding of nesta in book 1, to the character that'd do such horrendous things to her in acosf. that's why she stands around and lets rhys and amren bully and degrade nesta. she's not a character anymore. she's just rhysand's mate.

[envy-of-the-apple]

I'm 99% sure it was called "Forever Yours" and it was a yandere oneshot series basically of a ton of popular anime boys from the time. The ones I remember were the Tokyo Ghoul dude, there were some Death Note guy chapters, there was the ML from Kamisama kiss, OH and the white haired guy from Psycho-Pass. There were like 50 chapters. It had probably a million likes or something it was INSANELY popular.

Ryntymy also had some other ongoing fics (and a ryntymny/reader crack fic, god, love them for that), but god it's soooo hard to remember.

i DID find a post about one of the fics i knew of that was actually REALLY GOOD that you would have LOVED (it was very similar to saltburn although it's quotev so this yandere was ofc pretty tame):

https://www.reddit.com/r/Quotev/comments/1b652gu/trying_to_find_old_x_reader_fic/

as for what's still up... hm. i do remember parallel ink, and also psychadelic peanut (they had this really trippy izaya fic):

https://www.quotev.com/story/9754667/Unfortunate-YandereIzaya-Orihara-x-Reader/1

AH parallel ink wrote kingdom of possession, which i DO remember:

https://www.quotev.com/story/6759314/Kingdom-of-Possession-Yandere-King-x-Reader

and there was this one series that was ACTUALLY quizzes, which was neat:

https://www.quotev.com/quiz/8085561/Out-of-Sight-Out-of-Mind

this one was a pretty fun sort of mystery style thing:

https://www.quotev.com/story/11260294/Seesaw/1

and this one was like. formative for my longing for pathetic masochistic men. i wasn't super into it back then but THE SEEDS WERE PLANTED:

https://www.quotev.com/story/8901227/Then-Came-You-Sadistic-Reader-x-Yandere-Character-One-Shots/2

SEESAW????? I lovedddd that fic so so much ahhhh it was amazing!!! the fic put me in so much denial cuz i was like 'its him! wait no its not him? wait it IS him? no wait-' very very entertaining

speaking of murder mystery yandere fics...there was this one where the reader was isekaid onto a train and quickly pieces together that all of the passengers resemble ppl from this book they read years ago...except they cant remember the ending aka they dont know who the murderer is. pretty sure the author deleted it but it was good!

its so funny you mention psychedelic peanut cuz i remember they got canceled???? actually...pretty sure parallel ink did too...as well the rest of their clique....and thats why i zipped outta the quotev yandere community!

actually that one aot isekai i was talking about was hosted on quotev! pretty much the height of literature, there's no competition. if i dont find it im just tempted to just rewrite it.

Curse of a Broken Promise is still up there and i think it still holds up! its a yandere kaneki ken fic and the writing is so....whimsical? idk how to explain it but it whenever i read it i always felt so sad. good read!

Imperishable affection (yandere!mafioso x reader) is ALSO written by the same author. basically yandere mafia boss guy threatens you into loving him or else your family dies yada yada so ofc the mc does. for a quotev yandere fic its pretty dark actually.

You Need Me (Yandere Manipulator x reader) THIS was the fic that brought me into the yandere thing. and the author used to update EVERY day so this whole this was an event. and the TWIST i remember being 14 and gasping like 'omg he did EVERYTHING???' very very good

If you want a izayax reader fic whos author WASNT wierd might i suggest Twisted Obsession. Beautiful writing. Its better than most ao3 writing actually and wayyy above mine. I love the way this author characterizes Izaya in this and the backstory for why hes so strange is pretty believable. like i fully believe it should be canon.

Savior Complex is an aot isekai where the mc gets whisked into a yandere sim where Petra is the love interest and the rest of the aot cast is obsessed with her. but we can all guess what happens. pretty good tho!!!

BUT EVERYONE GO READ PRETTY its a gojo x LATINA READER AHHHHHH YESSSS. i just LOVE LOVE LOVE the way this author writes. its so poetic and there's so much left up for interpretation.

[wakeupthemembersofbylernation]

If Mike really loved El romantically, they wouldn’t have dragged out a weird plot of not being able to say ILY for two seasons. One season? Sure. I can let Season 3 slide somewhat if one discounts all the queer longing that takes place and the odd finale kiss. You could interpret S3 as an awkward kid building up the courage to say the L word.

But two seasons? Nah. If the first interpretation were true, things would’ve been resolved when El confesses that she loves him back at the end of S3. But things were not resolved? And the show goes out of its way to emphasize that Mike isn’t even writing “I love you” in his letters? And they have a big, explosive fight about it… and he still can’t say it? Nah Michael, I diagnose you with homosexuality.

“But saying I love you is scary and a big deal and yada yada…” Okay sure. Saying ILY is a big deal. But middle school kids still say it pretty casually. And they certainly at least write it. It’s not uncommon for a kid to drop the “L” bomb to someone they’ve only been dating for a short period of time, only to break up the next day. Things are fluid and chaotic and unpredictable and messy. In Romeo and Juliet, Romeo thought he was in love with Rosaline until seeing Juliet, and he immediately changed his mind.

But even if we just assume it’s harder for Mike to say ILY to El because Mlvn is serious and more meaningful than a fleeting crush, that still doesn’t let Mike off the hook. If Mlvn really is as soulmate-coded as Mlievens believe, when have you ever heard of a soulmate-coded relationship in media where the writers went out of their way to show that saying ILY was like pulling teeth? Imagine if there was a whole section of Titanic where Jack struggled with saying ILY to Rose? Imagine Leia got into a fight with Han because he couldn’t write “love” in his romantic letters, and Han was all like, “I care for you so much, Leia.”Imagine Katara pulled out the receipts, and Aang was like, “Okay, okay. Katara, you’re being ridiculous. Like what is this?”

That would be absurd. And you’d either demand an explanation or stop rooting for them. It’s not that ILY isn’t often a big deal in stories. It’s that when it’s emphasized in a weird way and dragged out for two seasons, you have to side-eye it. It’s one thing when the big ILY is the logical and natural culmination of an arc, whether at the end of a season or the end of a series. That makes sense. It’s another thing entirely when someone is literally begging you to say it, and you still can’t say it. And then when you finally do say it, it’s in the penultimate season, and it’s extremely anticlimactic. And everyone has to emphasize how you said it 9 times to cope/compensate.

If Mlvn was meant to be endgame, and Mike really loved El romantically, they would’ve just… shown Mike and El being in love with each other. There wouldn’t be any doubt. None of the other couples, other than Stancy, have ever gone through this weird kind of ritual where words are emphasized over actions. No one doubts that Lumax, Jopper, and Duzie are in love with each other. Jancy is a little more complicated cause they were separated throughout S4 and doubts were raised, but even so, it’s nowhere near the odd situation with Milkvan. Jancy, Lumax, Jopper, and Duzie have all shown they love each other through their actions. They don’t rely on big gestures or words to prove it. In fact, Lucas even specifically says to Max, “I don’t want a letter.”

All I’m saying is, if Mlvn is treated with a considerable lack of seriousness post Season 2, if the show keeps them in a weird Groundhog Day plot of constant fights and lies and not being on the same page, and if it takes a third party with vested romantic interest in the situation for Mike to finally monologue a measly ILY to his girlfriend, then maybe there’s a reason for this? 🤔

[the-ellia-west]

The Porcelain Girl

(My Symbolism-infused School assignment Short Story)

It's about failure, success, isolation, and the torture of artists, failure, and imitation

Gold Represents Success, Silver Represents failure, yada yada

(Tis very long, read at your own risk)

PLEASE COMMENT OR RB WITH YOUR OPINION, I NEED TO TURN THIS IN ON MONDAY

The first thing I knew was the golden sunlight filtering in through the keyhole. When I stepped out of my small cabinet, my new world seemed a wonder beyond comprehension. Within walls too big for my eyes and voices through the halls I had to run to reach the end of. It took me days to explore the castle. I could sit on window sills and hide from the metallic footsteps of the Courtiers. I didn’t know how I knew their titles, but I did know I had to be careful. The Castle paved in stone, the courtiers plated in shining metal, they were glorious sights to behold. 

I was different.

Days and days passed, turning over to weeks, then months, and I began to know my castle and its contents. Men reveled in gold, where trash became the only home for silver. I would spend my days sitting in the window, looking out at the world beyond my gilded walls. But I loved one thing most of all. The king, the one who owned the palace, the only one entirely of gold, with no silver spots about him. He would speak to his servants as if they were free, and the Courtiers would imitate him down to his very smile. 

But I was no different in that regard. I longed to be like him, looked up to instead of crushed underfoot. But he was made of gold, and I was nothing more than mud. I had beauty, true, but I was still only clay with a painted face.

However, one day, while I was gazing from the window, pondering everything but my purpose, I spotted something. A crown, upon a scarlet pillow, displayed on a marble pedestal at the right hand of the King, gleaming in the summer sunset. The same color as the dandelions plucked from the gardens or the reflection of lanterns in a Courtier’s eyes. It called the name I didn’t have. 

I needed to see it up close. So against my better judgement, I lowered myself from the window and rushed to the ballroom to catch a glimpse of it. But as I reached the room, its sheer size made me forget where I stood.

Courtiers and servants at the left and right, carrying bronze platters and golden flowers, a room so bright it hurt my eyes. Beautiful to the point of gaudiness. Feet moved to the rhythm of something the King later called music, and fabric danced around the ankles of golden women. I stumbled away and scampered through the squirming crowd, avoiding being crushed beneath shoes or knocked over by flailing limbs. Because even then. I somehow knew I was in danger of being broken.

I was jostled, belittled, and ignored. Until I saw it again. The Crown stood above my head so far I was almost sure it brushed the clouds’ silver lining. But its beauty entranced me, making me forget for a moment the scratches in my paint from the violent thoughtlessness of the Courtiers. I wanted to touch it, just to know if it was real. So I stepped up onto the carved stone, hooking my smooth glass fingers into the dents and chipped columns. 

“Girl.” 

I stopped at once. I knew it was the King without turning. My grip on the stone loosened and I answered, “Yes, your Majesty?”

“What are you doing?” his voice was gentle but firm.

“I wished to see the crown.”

“Why? You are made of clay and glass. You are safer on the ground. You know that. You will never reach the top. It is better for you to stay away from danger.” 

I knew he was right, and even though I desperately wanted to reach the crown, I didn’t know if I could. 

“Please come down.”

But I didn’t. I gripped the stone and tried to pull myself up. But with his words in my head, my hold faltered, I felt a brief rush of air and the sensation of falling, before I hit the ground with a shatter. I only remember fragments. 

The King ordered me taken to the forges to be repaired. One of the Courtiers, shoulder plates of gleaming silver volunteered to collect my pieces and carry me. I was stitched back together in blue fire and the same silver of the Courtier, marking the cracks in my perfection. 

I stayed in my cabinet, tracing the cracks in my body with my fingers, too ashamed by my failure to allow myself to be seen. Until with the setting sun and the pearlecant shine of the moon, a voice whispered to me on the wind.

“What are you waiting for, girl? Why the tears?”

I looked for it’s source, but when I found nothing, I simply whispered back, “I failed.”

“You can’t hide forever just because of one failure. You are a treasure. If anything, your new metal shine makes you more beautiful.”

“But I am imperfect.”

“And so is even the most beautiful of flowers. Don’t let it keep you down, love.”

I tried to ask the voice what that meant, but it refused to answer. Eventually, I took it’s strange words and returned to the halls. For days, I followed the King’s advice, for I had come to fear the Courtiers and Servants once more. But at same time, they drew my eye. Every time I thought to speak to them, I remembered my imperfection, and I was afraid. But my fear could not keep me from the crown forever. The next time I saw it, the King had shed it from his head, and again, it stole my breath with it’s beauty. Silver cracks across my hands the color of the tools used by the Courtiers I feared, could not deter me any longer and I set out for the room. Their golden visage seemed taller as their glinting eyes watched my quiet steps. I shrank in on myself, saying nothing and hoping they would just forget I existed.

“The girl made of glass.”

“But she’s covered in Silver.”

“Why is she here?”

Silver. What I was and what they saw. I was a walking second place medal. I started to wonder if I should have just stayed in my cabinet. But a small whisper in the distance startled my attention away from the Courtier’s rumors. 

“You can do this.”

I stopped, catching my breath as I spotted the man who had brought me to the forge. Shackles of pearly silver weighing him down. But he managed a smile when he saw me. And that gave me hope. I could do this. I would climb up there, touch that crown, and I would prove to the king that I was something he could be proud of. 

So I gritted my teeth, and began my climb. The voices cut into the cracks in my clay flesh, as they whispered and muttered. But once more, the King saw me. He warned me to descend. But I refused. Until a Servant nudged the pedestal with his arm and I lost my grip.

I reawoke in my Cabinet once again.

“Wake up. Do not give in to fear. When you are ready, you can do this.” 

I ventured into the hallway to see myself in the curved glass of the clock. More silver filled the places where I had broken. But the whisper brought a warm breeze to comfort me.

“You are resilient. That is commendable. You are worth so much more than you know. Nobody is perfect on the first try.”

Though my failure discouraged me, I wanted to see the crown more than ever. And so I waited until the news of the next Ball.

When the doors opened, I wove between the feet of the golden Courtiers, glittering like the sun in the flicker of the evening lanterns. Without hesitation, I began to climb. 

This time, I would reach the crown. I knew it. The Courtiers noticed me halfway. They began their whispers, but I held on tight. It was a long, difficult task, but I kept going. Until he saw me. 

“Foolish girl!” His voice thundered across the room, shaking me as I reached for the top. “It is worthless to try getting you to see sense! You are made of clay and silver, you were not made for this! You are brittle and broken. This is the last time you will disobey me!”

With those words, the king plucked me from the pedestal. I lost my grip, and I fell. This time I hadn’t shattered. But I had still broken. He told the Servants to repair me and then lock me away. 

“This is for your good, Porcelain Girl. You discard your fragility too often. You will not break again.”

In a blur of hours and days, I was repaired, and locked in the dark of the castle’s dungeons. The Silver ran through my eyes and darkened my hair. Shackles the color of moonlight weighed my hands and feet. Though they were too loose to restrain me, I leaned against the bars, and waited to die. If I could not please him, I had no purpose. The Courtier with the silver shoulders came to visit me once. But I ignored him. He returned the next day and played me a song.

I told him to leave.

But one day, the Spirit returned, “You have given up. Why?”

“I have failed too many times.” I said, hoping he would go.

“A failure is not a curse.”

“But I am broken.” I told him. “And I cannot be fixed.”

“Even your king and his brilliant crown have a blemish or two. Gold is a soft metal.”

“Nevertheless. I am worthless. Even if you are right, they will never want me. I will fail again and again. I will never please them. I am only made of clay.”

“You are so much more than that crown or that king, or those courtiers. You are something new, and no one is ever used to something new. You have one person, don’t you? That Courtier still believes in you.”

I hesitated, considering his words. He was right, annoyingly enough. That Courtier did care about me. For some reason. And The Spirit himself seemed to as well. 

But as I looked down at my chains, I noticed something. Little silver flakes and wires. I slipped out of them easily, for they were too large for my hands, scooping the little scraps into my arms. I left the cell, and went to the courtyard, where the Silver-shouldered Courtier watched the sunrise. 

And as the golden rays lit up the castle, I saw myself in a small puddle, and for a moment, my Silver seemed the very same color as the light itself. 

Then I got an idea. I began to weave the wires into a small circlet, just large enough for my head. The Courtier spotted me, and he smiled, offering me a small golden ring. I accepted, and he helped me to weave my masterpiece. And for the first time, I loved that I was made of Clay. Knowing we were perfect just the way we were, our failures making us better for the future.

“I like it. Reminds me of you.” He smiled, and I smiled back as we faced the glory of the sun. The Spirit brushed my hair with a warm breeze and I held the circlet up to the light. 

It wasn’t the crown of a king, and it was far from perfect, but it was mine.

@supercimi @nczaversnick @homelessnerd @i-do-anything-but-write @sunflowerrosy

@artsandstoriesandstuff @soggt-frn

[sillystappen]

We have had singer!Daniel aus and dont get me wrong I LOVE them but

and hear me out

musical theatre performer Daniel. I have had this image in my head of Daniel pacing around (I’ve mainly pictured it in the back of RBR garage during a red flag or when nothing is happening) with a script in hand softly singing his lines to memorise them. And maybe Max helps out by singing/saying the other lines and everyone is like ??? why is F1 Champion Max Verstappen dramatically and goofily acting out a fight scene? (Waving imaginary swords at each other) And then the camera moves a tick and boom its Tony Award winner Daniel Ricciardo absolutely cackling as he fake-fights Max and gets his lines out through laughter.

When Max is asked about this he says “oh yeah I met Daniel at one of his shows and we became friends yada yada invited him to a race and sometimes I help him with his lines as a scene partner - it’s fun.” Of course in typical Max fashion he says this as no big deal and the musical theatre fans are like “who is this driver but tbh hes cool. We welcome him the DR fanbase.”

Daniel is later asked about Max he says: “Max is a great driver - huge fan. I’m literally buzzing to be here and see all of this up close and personal. It’s amazing work they do here and it’s incredible that I am even here in the garage and not in the grandstands like usual. […] I didn’t think Max would be a fan of my work and it’s still slightly insane to think about. But yeah, he’s a great guy, and well as a scene partner he’s not too bad either!” F1 fans are either just viewing him as another celebrity or are immediately charmed by Daniel and his knowledge of the sport, saying lovely it is that he genuinely likes the sport and is not there for press.

Moving forward, Daniel attends more GPs (mainly the US ones and Australia) and Max goes to shows and attends the opening night of the one that Daniel was practicing. Max even goes to the Tony Awards when Daniel is again nominated. Of course people notice they’re at least very close friends and it’s basically confirmed when Daniel appears in Max’s summer break photos. (This is when Maxiel starts).

This continues until one random media day when Max says “my partner and I” and everyone is like PARTNER?! Some people notice how he didn’t say girlfriend but f1 being f1 thats a minority.

Not long after, at a show near whatever GP it is, Daniel (cast as lead ofc) says “Thanks to the cast crew and everyone part of this show and my partner for helping me memorise every single song with terrible singing.” Which of course lines up a little too nicely with what fans already know about Max and Daniel and everyone goes ?!!!!!!!! (Little do they know Max was there too)

Those bitches knew what they were doing tho and after over a YEAR from that incident they say “oh yeah we’re together, since like 1 month after we met, and we’re married too lol”

[As their first kiss it was when Daniel was practicing a more romantic scene, Max knew this, and at the end of it, instead of just high fiving or whatever to indicate the kiss, they just both went fuck it and kissed]

[lovemyromance]

AND ANOTHER THING!!

(lol not me running back to make my 2nd ACOTAR post EVER because I've had it with the stupid ship drama)

I'm just going to say it: I don't even care if Elriel aren't true mates or whatever. I don't care if Elain has 2 mates. I don't care if the weird bond with Elucien is real, I don't care if Azriel's mate ends up being Mor, or Gwyn, or mf Alis.

It doesn't matter to me, for one SIMPLE reason.

The readers-us-me & you-are human. Mates, bonds- these concepts are fictional to us. They are not real. We do not understand them because we're not fae/animals/whatevers. The way SJM makes us understand the mating bond is by saying it is soul-level love, it is a love that craves the other person at all times, yada yada yada.

At the end of the day, we don't understand mating bonds unless you compare it to something we humans do understand - love.

THAT is why it was so important to have these couples fall in love/well on their way to the falling in love stage before the mating bond is revealed. That is what makes us understand the true implication of "fated mates". The mating bond isn't about fate about the Mother about whatever the hell spark and glow and fae territorial instincts. At its core, we only understand it and think of it as a positive thing because to us- we see it as everlasting LOVE.

That's why we didn't understand, nor applauded the pairings between Tamlin's parents, why there was no mating bond between Feyre and Tamlin, why Rhys's parents were mates and still had an awful relationship. We only like a mating bond if the pairing is clearly also in love.

That's why to me, the Elucien bond doesn't mean anything. Why are we revering a mating bond that doesn't have any love associated with it? Just what are we revering then? A claim to ownership? A chance of future everlasting soulmate love (aka, it doesn't currently exist though)?

What does it mean to have a mating bond if there is no love to us humans? Why are we cheering for something that's the equivalent of "oh I put a post-it note on your forehead that says you're mine...so...you must be with me now??" Make it make sense. Tell me why you are so hellbent on shipping these characters together who have shown no hint of any attraction or care towards one another.

If Elucien had fallen in love post Elain being yeeted out the Cauldron, I would've been all for it. But we got nothing from them. Nothing other than 3 more books of Elain avoiding him, Lucien avoiding her, no conversation, nothing, nada, zilch.

Why would I root for them? Just because they have a "mating bond"?

To put it in simple terms: A mating bond doesn't mean anything to me if it is not associated with love. Therefore, I am not going to cheer for an Elucien ship that has only a mating bond (not love, at least not currently), nor a Gw*nriel ship that has neither a mating bond (not printed or proven in the text), nor love (not proven or hinted anywhere in the text).

I am going to cheer for the obvious choice, because elriel the only ship that has shown they care for each other and are mutually attracted to each other.

That's all :)

Ok I'm done now someone please take my access to this platform away from me before I post 5000 other Elriel things

[isa-ghost]

YOU want to tell me all about your reaper headcanons. Right? Please? Pretty please?

I KNOW WHY YOU SENT ME THIS, BITCH

So anyway reaper Missa am I right. Goes without saying that the following is all AMFMN Missa canon, except the bonus at the end. :)

He can sense, see, and "read" souls. Their power, their condition, the species of the owner, the surface level emotions of its owner, sometimes even the personality of its owner. This is how he can tell when something is living or not, if a living thing is dying, etc. It's all in studying the soul.

Reapers not only guide departed souls to the afterlife, but they also protect still-living souls. They reap the bad apples and look after the good ones.

All reapers are given a deathscythe when they begin their reaping work. It's designed and tailored to their skills and personality, every scythe is unique.

Deathscythes are also strictly to be wielded ONLY by a reaper. Even so much as one reaper borrowing another reaper's deathscythe is considered odd. They're a very personal weapon.

They are also the only thing that can actually kill a reaper, as Missa told Phil in Chapter 3. Reapers are already in a weird undead state of existence, somewhere between living and not. So their bodies are very resilient but also very weird and quirky. They're immune to things like poison, but are very vulnerable to things like excessive blood loss. But even the things they're weaker to can't necessarily kill them. Deathscythes are the one of the only things guaranteed to be fatal to a reaper.

Reapers have EXTREMELY cracked agility. Super speed, inhuman strength & flexibility, yada yada. If Missa wanted, he could leap from the ground to the top of the wall with no help or struggle. And he was practically born with the innate ability to backflip for fuckin DAYS. Let's just say if he showed off in a sparring match, Phil would be head over heels for sure.

They're very strictly not supposed to get super attached to humans. Humans are mortal and reapers are not, which means most kinds of attachments and bonds between them are doomed to at the very least emotionally devastate the reaper when the inevitable comes. Which can be dangerous. A reaper's job relies on the ability of the reaper to reap. If personal stakes and feelings interfere with their ability to do their job when they should, it can have massive repercussions that a non-reaper could not even begin to fathom. Fate, time, and all that are very big, very tricky topics. And that's why Missa has latched onto Phil so hard. Not only is he extremely handsome and all that, he's not mortal. That inevitable day is not inevitable with him. He's safe to attach to.

There's an ambiguous hierarchy of sorts among reapers, which includes "higher-ups" and ALL reapers regardless of ranking all answer to Death Itself. This is why Missa can't recklessly abandon his reaper duties in favor of spending time with Death Family, and why him putting his duties on hold to save Phil from Ender King is such a big deal. (This also makes learning of Kristin very funny, because she's a different death god from a different universe).

Because of its purpose and power, Missa has been (and will be) struggling with not using his deathscythe throughout AMFMN, because he may want or need to fight Ender King, but using it could kill Phil. Phil is immortal, not invincible. If the deathscythe can kill a reaper, it can kill any ordinary immortal too.

To a certain degree, Missa doesn't need any aid in healing, at least if he's only mildly injured. His body can heal itself so long as it's given the time. If he's hurt too severely, or not given the ability to rest and let his body do its thing, then he's in trouble. Even if it can't be fatal, there are still serious effects that extensive injury can have on him.

And a non-canon bonus: If I were to make Missa an original species of reaper I have, he'd have an ability of sorts called A Reaper's Stare. It's an extremely powerful, special bond established between one reaper and one human, formed through a look the reaper gives the human, which is provoked by very specific conditions. It's most commonly triggered by an extreme emotional experience, such as empathy or love (is Missa's case, it'd be love). The Stare can only be used on one human at a time, its effects last until the human dies (in other words, if he gave Phil the Stare, it'd never die). It's like a form of soulmates, so a reaper of this species will rarely ever give another Stare to another human. As a result of the Stare, both reaper and human become tremendously devoted and protective of each other. In the reaper's eyes, it's a bond stronger than marriage.

[winterdadandspiderson]

WINTERDAD AU #1

(part one because this got way too long. this is essentially the plot of an old fic i started back in 2020 and what would've happened of i'd continued it. i might try and write it again one day, perhaps, if i don't give up after 2 chapters. anyway here we go)

- mary parker was a shield agent when she met the winter soldier, both were on a mission. they fought, but never got as far as mortally wounding each other. mary would always slip away. it was like a game. bucky had been kept out the ice for a few weeks at that point, running a long job. but the longer he's out, the more he starts to remember little pieces, who he used to be.

- mary feels pity for him, seeing through the stone cold image hydra forged for him, to the person within. they fight. but then they also talk. they keep seeing each other while bucky scouts. eventually one thing leads to another and they develop a relationship of sorts. 

- mary later discovers she's pregnant but bucky never finds out. he's taken back, wiped and put under the ice once more. mary quits her job at shield so she can provide for her kid and keep them safe. knowing full well if anyone in shield or hydra caught wind that she was carrying the winter soldiers child, they'd never be safe.

- she's sad that bucky disappeared again, she knows hydra likely had him wiped and iced again. but she moves on, meeting richard soon after who she tells she's expecting a son, that the father disappeared without a word (technically not a lie) he tells her he'll love him like he's his regardless.

- when her son is born she names him peter james parker (during the few weeks they met, the last time they talked, bucky ended up remembering his first name, mary wanted peter to have at least a piece of him)

- peter ends up looking a LOT like bucky. he has the same shade of dark brown hair, facial structure which shows as he grows. but he has mary's eyes)

- the plane crash was really just an unfortunate incident. peter still goes to live with aunt may and uncle ben when he's seven. and then things go as they usually do in canon. the avengers form, yada yada all that stuff, you know the drill.

- when he's 14 peter is bitten by the radioactive spider. BUT. an important detail here is that due to the expiermentation bucky was subjected to by hydra and the enhancements which altered his genes, some of that, though remaining dormant, passed onto peter. but it didn't really do anything, it was just there. but it did keep him alive after the spider bite. without those enhancements in his blood peter would've died. instead, he gained his powers.

- uncle ben still gets shot, which as usual influences peter to become spider-man. and months after tony still comes along and recruits him to fight in germany. peter does.

- when he briefly faces bucky ("you have a metal arm? that is AWESOME, dude!") neither know so that also goes as normal. bucky is bewhildered by the kid who managed to block a hit with so much force behind it, while also shocked to know that he was just that, a kid.

- now one vastly different thing here is that while the avengers do split for a good year, steve and tony eventually talk and make amends. the avengers reassemble, deciding that they need to put the world before their feud. they're not on super good terms, but they tolerate each other. tony still refuses to forgive bucky.

- homecoming happens during the time where things are still rocky between the avengers so peter still deals with vulture alone. but he does see tony more often, stopping by for lab days to work on his suit among other things, to keep up the "internship" charade. tony grows fond of him, though he doesn't admit it.

its post homecoming where things start to go wrong.

[keyslox]

have you ever noticed how part of c!jack’s character is he is obscure and nobody really knows him and how in the fandom he is also obscure and nobody really knows him

Jack Manifold was never really given the time of day. Sure, he had a small part in the server (ultimately the one who ended the whole thing), but his presence was not respected all that much. Placed into the lowest rank of L’Manberg’s cabinet, killed by Wilbur Soot for ‘not being seen’. He never got a REAL apology for that, by the way. I will stand by the fact that Wilbit’s apology to Jack was manipulative, half-assed, and more for himself than Jack’s wellbeing. It was well before the ‘Apology arc’ and THAT IN OF ITSELF shows just how little it actually meant to Wilbur. He was just doing it to make himself feel better and didn’t actually have Jack’s feelings in mind.

The biggest thing I see going around is Tommy being excused for what he did to Jack. Killing him when Jack went to visit him in the Nether during his Exile. Tommy has trauma. We all know that. He was a victim to extreme manipulation and abuse and a slew of other things. Yet he blatantly ignores every attempt, denies and/or doesn’t fully grasp that he did what he did. Which I can understand because the dude went through severe trauma, but that’s not an excuse. He still needs to take the accountability for his actions.

Jack deserves so much more than he’s ever gotten and it SHOWS. He literally wants friends. That’s it. He wants friend and companionship and he wants what he THOUGHT he had. Because he never actually had it. If he had it Wilbur wouldn’t have killed him, Tommy would actually listen, and he would be shown an ounce of respect for his own traumas and hardships when he tries to talk about it all. All everyone does is dismiss, downplay, and invalidate c!Jack’s pain. That’s a big reason why he’s the way he is! Every other attempt to let himself express his issues ends in him feeling worse about himself.

And we’ve seen time and time again that everyone else Jack tries to talk to and vent to takes Tommy’s side! (Ex: Puffy) There’s bias that Tommy can do no wrong and is the ‘savior’ of the smp. But even if he’s the ‘main protagonist’ doesn’t diminish he causes pain.

They give the excuse that Tommy was a child, that children should be protected and yada yada. Jack was more-or-less a child when he first joined, too! He should have the same excuses, the same treatment as all the other kids on the smp but he doesn’t because he was left alone and had to grow up faster.

He didn’t have anyone to lean against, so he just never let himself fall. And when he inevitably did no one cared or batted an eye because no one was there. He died 3 times and no one batted an eye.

The fandom is so bias sometimes. I’m not huge on DAMP fanfics that involve Jack because they mischaracterize him so much. Put him as a bully in School AUs, make him mean and rude for no reason. The reason in canon is because no one gave a single fuck about him. (not including Niki) Jack had a reason for being ‘cruel’, no one else did. It comes with the fact that Jack’s POV just isn’t as watched, so people don’t know his side of things. But what bothers me is that it feels like fans don’t even try to see stuff from his point of view. He was abused, manipulated, killed, and used in his own right. If everyone else gets excuses for the shit they did, he deserves it too.

Below is how I interpreted Jack’s ending, and how, despite everything he’s gone through, his character gets some sort of ending that isn’t completely angsty. I acknowledge that Jack isn’t the morally-perfect character, that he was fueled by anger and rage. He had a slight victim complex. But from a more basic pov, and for the fans who don’t really understand his character, I think he was redemptive. In his own right.

REDEMPTION:

From its literal definition Redemption is “An act of redeeming or atoning for a fault or mistake, or the state of being redeemed. deliverance; rescue.” The state of being redeemed comes in many shapes and sizes. Actions and words big and small. For some it may take great showings of purpose and selflessness. For others it can be as simple as “I’m sorry.”

Someone can go their whole entire lives fighting with something they ultimately in the end agree with. A lot of it is a matter of perspective. Jack only had one perspective.

Jack was alone for most of his life on the dsmp. Yes he had friends in the beginning but wars and betrayal had him distancing himself and trying to find ways to fix it. None ever worked. Because he was alone. When you only work with one perspective you don’t understand the other side, and how it might actually clear things up and switch your own views.

It only took Jack a matter of minutes after arguing with Tubbo for him to realize he didn’t have the whole picture. Someone so close to Tommy, someone who WAS there to see the other side of things. Someone Jack trusts and respects, who’d he call a friend, to listen and then fight him on his thoughts even if it was in the form of an argument. Though he fucked up and killed everyone, I think his actions of still attempting to save Tommy with Tubbo have given him a bit of redemption. Not all, everyone has faults. But he was on the path to healing when he died. If only for a few minutes.

Jack died by his own hands trying to right his wrong. If that’s not a symbolic Jack ending I don’t really know what is.

[floatingxendlessly]

Day 22? Day 22, flirty

Lookie, I made a background! This piece has caused me trouble, and I'm not fully happy with the end result but I'm still so proud of it!

I'm not happy in the sense that it's not what I envisioned in terms of shading, lighting, rendering, yada yada yada, but I'm so proud of myself regardless because I've got a ways to go with this medium (but also i got lazy and its been three[four] days.) (>◇<)/ I prefer my traditional art but it just wasn't coming out the way I wanted! First I couldn't find decent references so I fused two pictures of myself, made the sketch on Ibis, tried recreating it on paper but in the end I got frustrated and I liked the digital sketch so! This is the end product :3

Anyways back to the boys, I wanted Fuyuhiko to be the one holding Kaz's chin, but I like seeing Fuyuhiko blush so please, accept the alt

I think it's so cute when people blush and their ears turn red <3

This piece is super indulgent for me. All of my art is indulgent but still! Here's my headcanon for it: Kazuichi would be more nervous to initiate touch at the beginning of their relationship, mostly for fear of crossing a boundary, so Fuyuhiko ends up being the one to initiate hand-holding, do a side hug or place his hand on Kaz's waist to encourage cuddling, any of the standard 'couple' or 'romantic' gestures. It wouldn't take too long for Kazuichi to find the confidence to be more affectionate but since they'd likely keep their relationship hidden for a while, any PDA that can't be passed off as regular, friendly interactions are off-limits.

Which means they'd wait to be 100% alone in private to be affectionate, so this would take place a year or more later, when they're out and give less of a dam. Kazuichi would be more touchy but not exactly flirty, and when he does attempt to, it falls a little flat from either his awkwardness or lack of confidence. So the times he does flirt successfully are very impactful. As for Fuyuhiko, he also isn't super flirtatious by nature but he's got more confidence to pull it off. And Kazuichi is a bit more easily flustered by words than Fuyuhiko is, so most of what the blonde says to Kazuichi ends up with him blushing and feeling fuzzy. But that's my personal headcanon, what about you? :v