#but i could NOT for the life of me think of a theme??? bc literally everything fit

[rooolt]

I can acquiesce that I do think s2 is technically the worst season of dndads, and I mean that in a pacing and story structure and general coherency way, HOWEVER, it has had such a profound impact on me as a person that even the thought of any single one of those characters makes me sick with the amount of emotions they inspire within my being to this very day, and I think that’s more important

[crescentfool]

i love ryomina

no but seriously. even when i’m thinking about other things that captivate my interest, i find myself coming back to them and feeling like i fell down three whole flights of staircases every time i do. they are one of my favorite pairs in media and are very special to me.

it’s the way that ryoji and minato’s lives are inevitably intertwined with each other due to the circumstances 10 years ago on the moonlight bridge. without no minato, there is no ryoji. minato as he is today is because of ryoji. they have irreparably affected each other’s lives that you cannot discuss one without bringing up the other one.

ryoji mochizuki, who is death, pharos, thanatos, nyx avatar, the man of many names and identities, is the perfect summation of p3′s messages and themes.

minato arisato, the wildcard and protagonist, who has boundless kindness in his actions despite the unfortunate cards handed to him.

the two of them complement each other and tell a beautiful story from start to finish.

minato’s personas capture this perfectly. he awakens to orpheus, who’s flames burns bright, is snuffed out by thanatos during the encounter against the arcana magician. a visual precursor of the idea that ryoji stole from the life that minato could have had.

it’s the way that over the course of the game as minato interacts with pharos, talking throughout the dark hour, forging a bond that cannot be broken, that allows ryoji to exist. minato humanizes death.

november. the bells toll, calling the appriser. and yet, it’s peaceful... quiet, and full of life. ryoji, who breaks free from death’s chains, refusing his role, is given the chance to live for a month. to make the most of the humanity that minato has given him over those ten years. and what a life he lived. ryoji’s life is a reflection of what minato’s life could have been like in another universe.

it is the way the two of them are reflections of each other. ryoji with his hair down is just like minato. they are both stubbornly committed to choosing to be kind, to love life, yet are chained down by the cards the narrative dealt them with. they finish each other’s sentences, knowing each other intimately in a way no one else does.

how is that, a boy who lived for only one month, profoundly changes the course of the narrative? he is simultaneously relevant and irrelevant. blink, and you miss it, the beautiful life that he led.

ryoji is horrified at the revelations of being the appriser. he who so desperately wished to forget that his existence was meant to bring the end to all life, was unable to escape the inevitability of death. in a non-human way, of course. he becomes remorseful. a shadow of his brief time as a human who was enamored by the small beautiful things that life had to offer.

he is swallowed by grief. grief knowing that his very existence will take away not only minato’s life, but everyone else’s. the very thing that ryoji loved- life, fundamentally went against the role he was born for- to be the harbinger of death. and unable to grapple with this sadness he believes that the best thing for minato to do is to kill him, so that SEES can live in bliss not knowing about their inevitable end.

SEES is left rattled, calling into question what the meaning of life is and what they do when faced against the inevitability of death.

and!!! minato chooses!! for ryoji to live!! even in spite of what ryoji is MEANT to embody, minato still stubbornly chooses to defy death itself! and if that’s not cool i don’t know what is!! minato wants everyone to have the chance to live!!

so he climbs. he ascends tartarus, to meet ryoji, again, who is now the nyx avatar. and i just think there’s something so so beautiful about being able to use messiah, minato’s ultimate persona, against nyx avatar.

messiah, being the fusion of orpheus and thanatos is peak ryomina to me. because ryoji and minato have established an unbreakable bond from having been entwined for 10 years, minato still has a piece of death with him, and by proxy!! ryoji is able to defy and rebel against nyx trying to bring the fall! and i think that’s fucking cool shit if you ask me!

even when all of the arcanas have been gone through, it’s still not enough to stop the fall. and yet. minato knows. in the way that ryoji was sealed in minato 10 years ago by aigis... minato becomes the great seal so that everyone can live. it comes full circle.

march rolls around. he fulfills his promise to SEES on graduation day. minato dies from exhaustion. but goddamn does his sacrifice make me weep- he’s had such, such a tiring journey. he’s been through so many things because he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. but at the end of it all, he’s reunited with ryoji in death.

and i think this is why ryomina continues to evoke so much emotions for me, to this day. the relationship that they have embodies so much of persona 3′s messages and themes that it makes me feel like a microwave with nothing running in it.

p3′s message is very hopeful, for me. my favorite takeaway from it is that even if death is inevitable, appreciating the life that we were given and choosing to live as best as we can with kindness (even if we can’t feasibly do everything), is just? really nice? and you see this manifest in both ryoji and minato’s personalities and what they do for the other characters.

ryomina just feels so distinct to me, the flavor that their relationship ties back to my favorite takeaways from this game and im just!!  god!! i love you minato arisato! i love you ryoji mochizuki! im so glad that i could meet them! i’m happy that they changed my life! they made me want to appreciate the connections in life even if they were fleeting! they made me!! want to pay attention to the good moments in life and cherish them!

i love ryomina so much!!! i’m so glad that these two could bring so much joy into my life! and i hope that others can have this joy too! 💛💙

[ninashiki]

i feel like almost everything in utena has sort of already been extensively discussed in the last two (almost three) decades of utena's existence (not that there aren't new interpretations to be made, there always are) besides black rose arc (mikage+mamiya+tokiko). which is why they're so much fun to think about. i think the need to read between the lines makes it unfortunately easy to misunderstand or look past obvious stuff if you don't pay attention, but to me it's always been really obvious that mikage's arc is a literal representation of the erasure of queerness in ohtori (society?) by akio/everything he represents. and that's so fucking tragic! nemuro was never able to find a name for his desires. he lived and died as a puppet in the shadows.

[ourhouseishaunted]

my brain for the past like 2 weeks

[vastiitas]

thinking abt... the connotative difference between being a killer vs a weapon,

[void-and-virtue]

Writing fanfic is so dangerous bc whenever I see the name ‘Seth Gordon’ now, my brain just goes “SETH!! My man!!! My dude!!! Allison and Renee’s platonic husband!!!!” And then I have to take a moment of silence as I remember that oh. Oh, in canon, he is first an asshole and then dead

[snekdood]

so august 2018 is when my peak being-crazy-made art craziness happened, huh

[milo-is-rambling]

I feel like a huge idiot all the time like it’s great and is awful and there’s a layer of smart in me that I can’t seem to actually get to it just simmers there and occasionally a smart thought bubble floats to my mouth or brain and then soon enough it’s all bullshit again

[rimunagenius]

Only Angel — K.M

❝ words : 1.5k ❞

❝ warnings : RPF!! , suggestive , body worship , jealous!Kate , fwb theme ❞ (dk if i forgot anything, if i did lmk!)

❝ rimunagenius speaks : sorry this took a literal fortnite to complete LMAO (pls idek if this good :// )…anyways i have summer school bc o my fuck ass chem teacher soooo lowk might take a while to put other stuff out but i’ll try i promise!! ❞

| Women’s Basketball Masterlist |

I saw this angel

I really saw an angel

Kate noticed you on the baseline at every single one of your home games. Your black and gold cheer uniform fitting you insanely perfect. Your short skirt and your form fitting top. You looked so pretty, so beautiful, so angelic, you were truly a distraction sometimes. The way you moved hypnotizing her whenever she wasn't focused on her team. 

Open up your eyes, shut your mouth and see

That I'm still the only one who's been in love with me

I'm just happy getting you stuck in between my teeth

And there's nothing I can do about it

It took about five months of dancing around the physical attraction you both had towards the other before making what was happening between you two something. You both had amazing futures set out for you, establishing yourselves in your sports. You were on track to become a professional cheerleader, NFL cheerteams already inviting you to camps. 

Kate was optimistic that she'd become a prospect in the upcoming draft. Deciding to continue to put all he focus into basketball. So why on earth were you both suddenly trying to pursue something that could be nuclear to your careers. 

Kate had been buried between your legs for the better part of an hour. "Oh my god, Kate. I love you." The initial shock in the declaration immediately set a new tone in the atmosphere that you two had spent months building up. 

Her lips paused the attack on you, eliciting a small sigh from your lips, now accepting the consequences of your own actions. "Im sorry, what?" There was no denying the cultivation of feelings you two began to nurse. There was no point in lying to herself that she didn't feel the same way. 

"Forget it, just please, don't stop." You squirmed under her gaze. Now growing increasingly uncomfortable with the look she seemed to be giving you, and now uncomfortable with the abrupt confession. 

"You know that I can't just drop basketball." She sighed, her forefingers pinching the bridge of her nose. The frustration that immediately began to build within your chest, at her action of dismissing your confession. 

"Alright, whatever. Forget about it, didn't mean it anyways." You sighed heavily, suggestively spreading your legs, signalling her to continue, foregoing any act of bashfullness and self preservation you had to give. 

"No, because we had this conversation. I need to focus on basketball right now. Not to sound rude but you're not in the picture yet. I'm pretty sure I'm not even in the picture for you're life right now." The short tone she took with you was something almost foreign. 

You didn't like the tone, rolling your eyes at her. Suddenly the small smirk you grew accustomed to in this scene, inching it's way onto her face. So over the awkwardness but totally enthralled by the way she manages to manipulate the situation to make  it seem less harsh than it really is, annoys you. She’s so good at making you forget about why you were mad at her when she has that look on her face. Chuckling softly, looking away to your left, you grabbed her blonde hair at the back of her head and shoved her head back down where you both were needing. 

The slight aggression and dominance you took elicited a gravel moan from the depths of her throat. The reverberation could be felt everywhere. You guys just couldn't help but feel the way you felt for each other. 

Broke a finger knocking on your bedroom door

I got splinters in my knuckles crawling across the floor

Couldn't you take home to mother in a skirt that short

But I think that's what I like about it

Kate didn't know what it was but the feeling brewing in her chest from the sight of you with another girl had her on a whole new level. You guys never put a label on what it was between the both of you. You guys just had a common ground.

Thats why she didn't know why she was pounding the living shit our of your door at two in the morning. Team outing at a local bar in Iowa City, invite extended to you from your mutual friends, turned into you leaving with another girl. She was your friend, deciding you were tired of your shoes, opting to go home and drink your own beer without people bothering you and asking if you two were single. Seemed like the most optimal solution. Until you realized that the pounding on your door signaled you forgot to tell Kate. 

Kate had felt the anger and anxiety build up in her the longer her fist repeatedly connected with the wooden door of your apartment. The dread of finding another girl in the apartment where she thought only you two seemed to find yourself in more often then not was unsettling. Mainly because she thought this was going somewhere but you just called it casual. She had you. 

"Jesus Christ, Kate. It's two in the morning, what the fuck are you doing?" You looked at her perplexed, the cold breeze hitting you from the hallway. You wrapped your arms around yourself, the crop top and the short sleep shorts you made yourself comfortable in now suddenly sounding like the worst idea. 

"Who did you leave with?" Is she fucking serious right now? You looked at her like she had suddenly grown two more heads. 

"Are you serious? That's why you came banging on my door at two in the fucking morning? Because you wanted to know who I left the bar with?" The animosity in your voice growing as she continued to keep the straight face she had since you opened the door, but moved on her feet in anticipation. 

"Yeah. Was she a friend or...?" You genuinely laughed at the way she was acting. Two nights ago you had confessed that you loved her accidentally, but truthfully, and all she could say was you weren't what she envisioned herself with in the future. Atleast not yet. So you both decided to continue doing what you have been for the last two months. 

"Like you care?" You scoffed, walking away from the door, letting her in. She closed the door behind her, kicking her shoes off, and hanging her jacket up on the hook next to yours. You walked through the whole apartment, knowing she’d follow. She did. You didn't say a single thing but just look at her while she saw no girl had been in your apartment. 

"She was my friend, Kate. She was in one of my classes and we came here for and she only stayed for like twenty minutes before she walked to her floor." You now stood in the middle of your room, a room Kate had been all too familiar with. 

"That's it?" Kate's brows raised, her body inching closer to yours. 

"Yes. I'm not easy you know." You rolled her eyes, unintentionally getting a rise out of Kate. For some reason she seemed to like when you had an attitude with her. "Don't even think about it, Kate." You looked at her, the knowing gaze her eyes held that your eyes were trained to remember. 

"Why not? You’re always easy for me." Her voice dropping and becoming faint as she slowly reached one hand to your waist. She knew you’d let her have her way. You always did. You were just equally as dirty and needy for Kate as she was for you. She couldn’t take you anywhere…she loved it. She got to have you in private any way she wanted.

"You're seriously asking that after you just stormed into my apartment thinking I was sleeping with another woman when that wasn't the deal we made. The lack of boundaries you seem to have." You sighed as her other hand connected with your waist, pulling you into her chest while her lips started their attack on your neck. 

"Mhm." She hummed softly, planting an open mouthed kiss right below your ear. 

"Kate, are you serious?" You were genuinely shocked that she just forewent her previous accusation against you, and suddenly thinks she'll get lucky tonight. It was slowly working, dammit.

"Why are you still talking, baby?" Her hands on your waist slipped underneath the hem of your crop top, her cold, ringclad fingers, slowly traveling the familiar path that brought her so much pleasure. Her eyes now looking into yours, she smiled before looking at your lips. 

Who were you to resist her when she looked this good? You probably should have but there was no going back after you connected your lips. It didn't take more than two seconds to have her slowly backing you up against the side of your bed, making you fall onto your back. 

You inched your way towards the headboard, you resting neatly on the pillows as you watched her discard her shirt. She got onto the bed, working her way from you bare legs, all the way up your stomach. The way she crawled slowly above you, ravishing you before she intended to tear you apart was so sultry and almost cinematic that you couldn't even breathe. 

Later on, the talk needed to be had. You both would have to unanimously decide to commit to one another. There was nothing casual about the way her lips traveled to every part of your body, with small chants of appraisal leaving her lips, ghosting your skin with goosebumps in their wake...nothing casual about it. 

"You're like an actual angel, baby. Can't get enough of you." Her lips barely articulated the words that she desperately needed to get off her chest, as they tried to kiss you everywhere all at once. You almost didn't catch it when she kissed up the apex of your thighs, mumbling 'mine' over and over again. 

In her eyes, you were literally an angel, needing to be worshipped.

She's an angel

My only angel

[withonly-sweetheart]

Starry Eyed Singer

You're a scientist, not a singer, but when the newest experiment takes a liking to not only you, but your voice, you might just be the key to finding the rest of them. And although he's stuck behind the confines that keep him away from you, that hide the songs that he knows could have you throwing yourself into the water for him, he won't hurt you. After all, how could he? When you're his starry eyed singer.

a/n: first lets ignore the fact there's only dialogue at the last bit im so tired of this literally its been two whole ass weeks I NEVER GO PAST A DEADLINE IM GONNA TWEAK buuuut i really really like this idea i just think that for a theme, this is short and sweet enough for me! i would definitely want to expand on this as a whole, and i couldn't resist adding a dead dove ending <3 (im a creepy mf ik)

find the bad ending here...

alright now its time for credits

@bunnivievve - this is literally her au. like seriously i took everything from her analysis sheet like i would not be here without you. i salute you fine woman you are the reason i wake up and write siren leon. + thank you sm for ur hc i hope it's fitting to what you were thinking!!! THISSSSS LITERALLY THIS IS WHAT INSPIRED ME SMMM <333

@larvamars - help im sorry for mentioning you but i kinda took the art of leon looming over the scientist in that one piece of urs to heart... yeah... thinkin abt that while writing this really helped <3 so tysm just crediting people where credit is due!!

@sirenhub <- ngl i thought of you while writing this the WHOLE time i was tryna be freaky... get it bc ur name is siren... also the dead dove ending is dedicated to you my love... please drown me to the bottom of the ocean.. <333

@vampiricgf <- KITAA WE'RE TWINNING SO HARD ON THIS ONE... ur au is better than mine i fear but its ok this is a connection i couldn't pass up

(psst. if i didnt mention u in this one artist moots TRUST you're definitely in one of the other three.)

tw: descriptions of loss and grief, reader's mother is dead, luis angst, tiny mention of smut but nun too bad, brother i can't write anything without making it sound like shakespeare and not in a good way...

wc: 7.3k

The pearl of the ocean. He’s watched every wretched person who’s confined him here, with their white coverings and spectacles resting on their too sharp noses, their awkward gait and their irregular size. And not one was interesting enough to keep him intrigued for more than a day.

And then you appeared in his life, a presence uninvited, a treasure undeserving of his touch, not that he would be able to get his fingers on you either way. Your eyes were so lively, restless, sparkling like stars through the clear material that separates you.

If only you could hear him. He was sure just a moment of his voice would be enough to ensure your enrapture, enough to ensnare you like they had caught him off the coast. His colony had warned him enough times of all the dangers the shore brought, yet something brought him back.

You are alike in that sense, hunger consuming you from the inside out, fatal if not for the restraints that were easier for him to hold than you. He can feel your eyes on him as he languidly floats through the somewhat roomy tank they house him in, temporary, of course, but for three months he’s been stuck behind this insufferable, invisible surface that sets the barrier between you both.

A creature of the sea and a creature of the land. He entertains quiet thoughts of you at night, when his dreams should be fitful, longing to be free in the ocean, yet the yearning for you is stronger. He assumes it is mutual, why else would you act the way you do? Enamored, entranced, elated enough to send shoals of fish skittering through his stomach.

But he mistakes fascination for infatuation. 

<><><><>

You cast Luis a sideways glance, a strange haze between you, air infecting what used to come so naturally, seeping into your skin, sealing your lips shut as if your banter was planned and you’re finally speechless.

His fingers flick the lighter lid open, then back, setting a rhythm that should be comfortable enough to make up for your unnatural silence, but it only serves to make things worse. You resist the urge to bristle when he finally speaks.

“You really don’t know why you’re here,” he murmurs, and you would’ve missed it, hidden under the whirring gears vibrating in the ground if not for the fact you’ve been expecting it. 

You scoff. “What do you think?”

“I think that you must’ve done something.” He sighs and leans forward, tense in every aspect except for his mouth, brown butter molding to the cherry of his lips that purse, abandoning the man you knew. “Why leave both of us in here? Alone?”

His tone is suggestive, and you might’ve dismissed it as playful under other circumstances, but you know exactly what he’s doing—making a fool out of you. 

“Tell me,” you insist. Luis leans back, the lamp in the hallway shining through the window, bronzing the copper planes of his face. He links his hands together and rests them palm upward on his forehead, closing his eyes. 

After a few moments of silence, he cracks one of them open, narrowed as soon as he realizes you’re still watching, still waiting for an answer he’s far too reluctant to hand over.

“Impatient, are you?”

“You’re the one who fucked everything up! If you had just listened when I said the radar was, what, three feet off, we could’ve caught it just fine! But no, guess who has to play the hero?” you seethe. You feel your heartbeat thrum under where your fingers lie on your wrist, pulsing like a warning. Back off.

“Are you a senior scientist?” He quirks an eyebrow, challenging you to a fight you’ll surely lose, but when have you ever backed down to him? “I didn’t think as much.”

That pet name irks you enough to spark a retort, one you didn’t even think about before it’s past your lips and hanging in the air between you.

“I’ll rip that badge off your shirt before they get here if you don’t tell me why the fuck we’ve both been stuck in here for three hours!” Your voice is level to an extent, level like you’ve never thought to be calm.

His arms fall down to his knees, elbowing the meat of his thighs, eyes drawn back to you. “Are you always this irritable?” A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, curving them upward. “Or am I just lucky to be sitting next to a beautiful woman with the temper to match?”

You scowl, unable to summon the grin that you wish would appear in your mind. Seeing that you aren’t as amused at him at his little joke, the smile slips right off his face, and that sullen expression usurps his features.

“They found it,” he admits, albeit quietly, as if he’s afraid someone will hear. “Right after we left.”

“They… did?”

“Mhm,” he confirms, voice low and throaty. His lips part and you lean forward slightly, eager to hear his elaboration. “A new project is underway. Experiment 003. And you’ll be-”

The door swings open, and the white light that bathes you isn’t a good sign. 

<><><><>

You don’t understand the solemn look on Luis’ face. Shouldn’t he be happy for you? You actually got the assignment you had requested, for once, and with what was once thought to be a creature only found in stories. And yet he stands leaning in the doorway to the lab room, gazing at the water.

It’s been two weeks, and not once have you actually seen this supposed creature. You’re starting to think this is all some elaborate joke Luis has crafted to keep your enthusiasm fresh, but he knows that your praise and effort aren’t akin to fruit and vegetables.

“No progress?” he offers weakly, not once making eye contact with you.

“Why don’t you try?” you reply bitterly. It’s been a hot minute since you’ve gotten any quality sleep, and the laboratory’s coffee runs alongside your blood in your veins, which bubbles back up in the raw coffee beans that swirl on your tongue as you await his response.

“Ouch.” Luis pretends to wince, seemingly hurt. “You might hurt my feelings, chiquita.”

“Good.”

“You can insult me all you want,” he says, damn that clever tongue of his, “but you’re pretty cute when you're mad. Makes it hard for me to take you seriously, mi amor.”

“Why are you like this?” you grit out, sweeping the papers off your desk to slam your clipboard down, crisp paper untouched. Can’t take notes on something you’ve never seen.

“Like what?” he asks, tilting his head. “Ever charming?”

“I was thinking something like bipolar,” you groust. “You’re never just one person, are you? What else are you hiding from me?”

He puts his hands up in defense as you stalk towards him, but he waits until you’re a step away to respond. “Hiding? Me? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muses.

You tilt your head up just as he tilts his head down, and you lock eyes with him, the searing honey dripping from his eyes to yours, cooling quickly enough to create threads of sweet ice connecting you both.

How it feels to long for something you’ll never have.

Your eyes flit to the band on his ring finger.

<><><><>

The cool glass finds your fingertips, aching from restless typing emails back and forth, persisting that you can handle this one. Your encounter with Luis has left you determined to prove you can do it without him, that you’re perfectly capable of ignoring him in the hallways, in the lunchroom, pretending not to hear him call your name across the lab.

But the blue glow dapples your face as you stare into the mirror on your desk, angled towards the picture of you and Luis, acceptance letters crumpled in your hands with your arms over each other’s shoulders, eyes glazed.

One too many drinks that night led to peppering his face with kisses, sliding those glasses off his face, admiring how pretty he looked all tipsy and breathless underneath you, watching all those cocky retorts disappear under your fingers. 

It’s hard to get over someone you’ll never stop seeing, and you’ve got a better chance of being fired than retiring early. Besides, if you love your job, you’ll suffer through anything to keep it, right? Even if that means forcing smiles at his open face.

With no one to console you, a locked door and curtains dressing the windows, you let the tears flow freely, wishing that the water only a few inches away would somehow absorb the tears, make you seem stronger than you really are. Somber music tinkles away to an end in the background, leaving you in obsolete silence that seems to swallow you whole.

A tap on the glass. Suspended motionless just beyond the barrier, electric blue undertones of his skin mesmerizing, highlighting elegant fins and swirling markings. Deep azure pools that lock onto yours, hair framing his face like a snapshot in time.

"Holy shit, shit, shit!" you blurt out loud before you can help it. Your pulse races to life, drinking in every feature you can, drawing an image that will never be up to scale; whoever can put his flowing, inky locks to delicate fins that frame his lithe, powerful frame into words should be standing in your place, because you sure can’t.

You swivel around, hyping yourself up even more at the fact that you’re the first scientist in the building to see him with your own eyes, fingers curled around your clipboard as you shuffle back.

But you’ve dotted your name and scribbled down the date only to jerk your eyes back to the empty space, as if he was never there. Only one piece of evidence remains, and even that flutters down to the depths you cannot see.

An iridescent scale.

<><><><>

Your voice is croaky from even more lack of sleep, hours of waiting by the glass in vain; the frog in your throat leaps out to greet Luis when he saunters over, leaning on his elbow that rests on the table, eyes darting from side to side to confirm what he already knows from ten minutes of absconded silence - you’re alone in the breakroom.

“Well?” he urges, eyes slicing down to check his watch. “Make it quick, mi amor. I’ve got a meeting in ten minutes.”

My love. How ironic that he still calls you that, it must slip from his mind on days like this. “Isn’t today your rest day-”

“Well?” he repeats, more urgently this time. And under his persistence, you’re less sure of your theory than before.

Your teeth pierce the chapped skin of your bottom lip, cracking it open, savoring the iron tang of blood that flows freely, even though you know it’ll come back to bite you in the ass later. The sting calms you.

“Experiment 003,” you begin, digging your fingernails into your palm for a split second before forcing your wavering hand to push the files towards him. “The mermaid-”

“Merman,” he corrects quickly, before his eyes go slightly wider than before and raises his hands in defense, again, as if his open palms will stop the silent words of hurt that batter his skin from your eyes.

“Merman,” you repeat, continuing, “isn’t really a merman.” 

“What?” Luis’ eyebrows fly up and he claws at the folder, flipping through the papers before staring back up at you in disbelief. “You have no evidence to support this!”

“But I saw him,” you insist, admitting what you had told yourself you weren’t going to reveal to him. How is it that his face still gets your tongue tied in your mouth, coaxing secrets without him even knowing? “And… it displays none of the traits found in the fisherman’s tales.”

“They’re all old men,” he says dismissively, and his nonchalance, once again, only serves to irk you and fuel your need to prove him wrong. “So what if they couldn’t see right?”

“But—”

“No buts,” he says with a tone of finality, and it doesn’t occur to you to speak back this time. The point’s been lost in your first plea, and the honey bees descend from his tongue to spike you everywhere, scorn you for trying to doubt him. “Just get back to work, and don’t bother me anymore, señorita. I have work to do.”

You’ve never been dismissed by him before, so when he sinks into his hands, rubbing circles into your eyes, you don’t move a muscle, wondering if there will be any further instruction.

But he lifts his chin, so slowly that his gaze sears everywhere that it touches until that flame gets put out by the bucket of boiling water bubbling to life in his eyes. That dull demeanor lying over irritation lies bare on his face, soaking through like wet newspaper, ink unintelligible but meaning clear. 

Get out.

<><><><>

It’s hard to find something more consistent than the steady lapping of water, kissing the top of the glass where it connects with your ceiling. You stare into the abyss, willing the creature to appear from its depths, but where the flowing water meets your demands, the being does not.

Your thoughts begin to wander. How exactly had you called it— no, him?

“The subject is male,” you hear Luis’ voice ring in your ear, as if a ghost of a person still standing with you, a shadow of what you hoped could be true. That day, there was no sound in the room except for the steady current of your tears washing your cheeks for the umpteenth time that week.

It’s probably not that. After all, it would take a creature with keen ears and a sharper mind to hear not only through the glass, but to recognize the pain that even the person who causes it cannot identify. But you’re desperate.

So you conjure up the strongest memory you have, one that surpasses all levels of guilt and anger and pain to the highest level of sorrow you’ve ever felt. The night your mother died.

Your eyes stay glued to the simple white cloth adorning her body, cupping her gently like the beings from above have descended to hold her in their heavenly hands, the idea that if you keep your gaze away from her, she’ll long for it once more and return to you.

But as much as you know she loves you, she remains still. And when you drag your reluctant eyes to grace her pale, limp hands, rubbing some warmth into her spindly fingers, fingers that fed you and dressed you. Arms that hugged you when you finished elementary school, kept your grades up with a raise that was never a promise, only an empty threat.

And the eyes that sparkled like yours, now dead. How similar you look to her, even now, hollow cheeks and irises that lose their cheer, wilting flowers like your dress that billows in the wind as you stand with your feet in the sea, grounding yourself against the waves that threaten to pull you away.

Why couldn’t you stay? Why did she abandon you in a cruel, motherless world that you know is common yet feels like a situation that will only ever apply to your pitiful self? Why does nothing last, if only for a fleeting moment in which you light her pyre and watch the flames engulf her until she’s nothing but a pile of ashes.

Before the wind can steal her away with its greedy fingers, you sweep her into a vase.

And that vase will stay in the second wooden shelf, the sturdiest one right above your desk, two inches away from the ledge, pressed against the chipped paint of your wall. You will never let her go. She will always be with you; in one way or another.

You’ll make sure of that.

Guilt isn’t the right word. There is no word to describe the torrents of how disgusted you are at yourself, and if there is, there shouldn’t be. You���ve confined your mother to these lands instead of accepting the peace she deserves.

And suddenly, observing the creature doesn’t seem as important as before. There are more pressing issues at hand, issues that might have something to do with your current lack of luck, as of late.

What you miss as you scamper around the room is the eyes that watch you from the darkness, sharp enough to crackle fire that would burn this whole place to the ground if he wished, but he waits. 

In silence as you hastily grab your bag from the coat rack, abandoning your jacket. He knows you’ll be back from this one action and relaxes his tense body.

As long as you come back.

<><><><>

Aquamarine darkness envelops the far side of the room, if the building you’re in even resembles a room. It must end somewhere, especially since the peacock lights flash back in a rhythmic pattern, always circling back to where you’re planted.

Rooted to the peaty soil that squelches around your rain boots that were required before stepping into… wherever your current location was. Of course, the admin team is never happy with what they have, and apparently one subject to prod and poke wasn’t enough.

So you’re sent in here, to gain more information, the rookie’s always the guinea pig for anything, right? To find the rest of them, if there are any. You’re doubting this idea as a whole theory itself, because what if he’s one of a kind? Special.

But that something gets closer and closer to you. Your eyes have become accustomed to the darkness, adapting to the shapes that spark your vivid imagination, the murky water swirling everywhere the inky mass touches. 

Eight feet and four inches is intimidating enough to scan behind the safety of your reinforced glass walls, bulletproof and all, and you’re not reassured by the idea that although you shouldn’t be scared, you are.

Only once have you seen him through the water, and that was enough to spark your interest. The flame of curiosity burns falsely in your stomach, washed out by the waves of fear. You feel like nothing but a small fish at his intense gaze, a gaze that frightens you, and it must show on your expression.

Within a matter of seconds he backs away, perhaps sensing your discomfort, and you realize that your initial hypothesis must’ve been correct; he can feel others' emotions. You wonder how this works for a creature that cannot communicate, at least not with you.

Something flashes through his eyes, storm clouds and thunder alike, and a low hiss pushes its way through his canine teeth, an attribute you hadn’t noticed until the sound hits your ears.

It is strange, the look on his face, with his hair moist and clinging to his neck as he bobs further away, weaving between the speckles of moss that float from your little island to him, gifts or warnings, you don’t know.

He takes them as warnings, it seems, with his tense, hostile expression that seems to appear from thin air, staring at you tersely, somewhat like a dolphin or a seal at the aquarium before dipping back into the water without a sound, silence filling the area where he was.

And although you’re perfectly aware that your fear has not yet subsided from crashing against your lungs, you admit to yourself that now that he’s gone, you miss the thrill.

Who would’ve thought you’d become so daring, hm?

<><><><>

But wait, it gets worse. You had assumed this was a one time thing, a test run with a temporary guinea pig that happened to be the rookie of the lab, and although you weren’t too happy with the arrangement, you were perfectly content with the idea of admiring him from a distance, especially after such a close encounter.

Yet no one gives you a heads up or a warning before you’re shoved into the same room again, fear licking at your spine as those flashing lights proceed further through the water. And after a while, the initial horror bypasses your system and you grow used to the thick silence hanging in the air, mingling with the musty scent of swamp water.

You don’t know what they’ve fed him this week. Maybe they forgot to clean his tank. Whoever’s in charge of his wellbeing obviously fucked up the one time you take a break to visit friends touring the city, because when you return, rested and fresh, ready to succeed, something’s wrong

You’ve never noticed it before, but there are scales scattered on his neck, a light blue color, tile shaped as if a button longing to be pressed. Those are the northern lights transferred from the sky to the sea, plastered onto him, hanging loosely so his gills can pulse. Open, shut, as you inhale sharply and exhale swiftly.

They light up in assortments of azure, carribean shades of the murky water, yet so much more vibrant. And as if the thrill wasn’t enough to make its fingers around your neck and restrict your breath, holding your silence as if the air would scare him away, he starts to sing.

Vertigo overwhelms your senses the moment his euphonic voice escapes from those lips, marinated on his tongue, deep and resonant. A dizzying feeling that causes you to stumble to your knees, red dots sparkling all along your vision.

And through the haze, you swear you can see him smirk, the corner of his lip twisting upward, as if this was the intended effect, like you’re supposed to feel as if you’re about to throw up and dance and cry and jump for joy, all at once.

Guess what else you were right about?

He’s no merman.

You forget the word, the term to describe the hooks cast into the sea to lure unsuspecting victims, hooks that are merely sweet, velvety tones that are all hollow truths, a desire to be craved and a hunger that can never be satiated.

A warning to be reckoned, to be heard, to be feared.

A siren.

<><><><>

“What the actual fuck?” You restrain your voice to keep yourself from screeching, which you know you would do if you were alone, which you never truly are with the walls that hear everything, along with throwing yourself at him and wrestling him to the floor. 

“You said it yourself, he’s a siren! And you could’ve just died!” Luis’ hands are twisted his hair, madly clutching at their roots, and his concern for you is so profoundly surprising it sparks a laugh from you.

“I was fine, thanks,” you snap back, drumming your fingers on the table as you stare directly at his face, a face that seems crazy to love now. So many times you wonder what could’ve been, and now you’re wasting time sitting here with this fool.

“You. Could’ve. Died.” Luis accentuates each word with the ending sound as a growl, as if his voice will instill some sense of security in you, but you find yourself getting burning as he continues, “How could you even think about doing something so stupid?”

“Me?” Your voice has found a perch high in your vocal range, and it won’t come down. “Whose idea was this in the first place?” You scan his face for any hint of remorse, but there is none, and nothing in his expression offers an answer.

“Mi amor-”

“Stop fucking calling me that! You don’t get to say that like- like we still have something! Do you even know what love is?” Luis’ eyes go stony, a boulder pushed up the wrong side of the hill, and you’re not strong enough to keep it up. 

And it all comes crashing down.

“Love?” A dry chuckle erupts from his mouth, expression conforming to both disbelief and pity, both uncalled for and unwanted. “Excuse me? Of course I know what love is, but it’s a little hard to love someone that’s constantly putting themselves in danger!”

His accent is sinking further and further into his words with his newfound irritation, irritation aimed at you for no apparent reason. Maybe something’s going on at home, but does that give him the authority to take it out on you? Hell no.

You stand, far too loudly, and everyone watches you get ready to make your exit without another word, because what are you meant to say to something like that? Are you so unrecognizable, within less than half a year? How easy is it to leave your old self behind?

The one that clung to him. Is that his problem?

You brush past his chair on the way out, and out of the corner of your narrowed eyes, you watch him twist the band on his finger, flicking his fingers back and forth, an absent habit he’s had since your sorority years.

But before you can pass him completely, he glances behind him and rolls his chair back, maneuvering it to avoid your feet. You’re about to tell him to fuck off when he draws his eyes back up, lingering on your lips, and you know what he’s thinking.

“Wait,” he says quietly, voice soft and barely audible, but he’s stopped rolling his chair back to tilt his head up towards you.

“What?” you snap, at first unknowingly but strangely reveling in the way he flinches at your harshness, flitting back to the day he had dismissed your concerns so flagrantly. You justify your actions by determining that he deserves it. His eyes darken again as a frown puckers his lips and the space between his eyebrows. 

“Don’t… just… don’t leave, please…” he stutters, his usual confidence nowhere to be found, struggling with the words before speaking again. “Can we… talk?”

“No, because there’s nothing to talk about. Besides, I have work to do.”

He lets out a small sigh at your response, to the reference of that event, irritation fluctuating in his tone. “Work? You’ve been working for four months, and you’ve found absolutely nothing.” And so the truth slips out, whether branching from his will or against it. This is how he really feels, huh?

"You don't get to tell me that." you mutter. "I'm the one documenting him, not you. You sit in your little room behind the glass, perfectly safe, and not once have you thought about swapping our roles. You don't love me, and I honestly have no idea why you even bother to lie to me about it."

Luis grits his teeth, his irritation and anger clear in his eyes, those eyes that were once pools of admiration sinking into the depths of everything you thought was between you. "What are you talking about? That's not true, I... of course I love you!" Then he rises from his chair, taking a step towards you, as if you’d allowed that.

You step back, pressing against the door. Your fingers creep behind your back to the handle and his eyes flicker to them, to the hand that’s grasping it so tightly it goes whiter than his face as he retreats to the table, pale with horror.

“I wouldn’t… ever hurt you,” he murmurs.

“Then why did you marry her?” you ask, voice soft. It’s a question you’ve been tossing in your mind, a simple game of catch that started grabbing rules from all sorts of games, pickleball and why he chose her, badminton and how you could’ve done better, volleyball in the victory in which his wife revels, and in which you wallow, losing yet another thing you loved.

“Because you said it was temporary!” he grumbles, sliding his teeth over his bottom lip, refusing to make the very same eye contact he was practically begging for an hour ago, in this very meeting room where you would stare at your department head as she provided strict instructions, catching Luis’ fleeting glances at your side profile.

“Isn’t that all we ever were?” you whisper. “Temporary?”

The air shatters between you. Finally, the unspoken truth that you both have carried for so long in your hearts is out, and it feels like a burden has been lifted off your shoulders. You can see it in his expression, however horrified, there’s some form of acceptance. He’s known this for as long as you have.

“What… happened to you? To us?” he asks quietly, looking at you like you’re a stranger, fractured parts of you discarded behind you like a broken mirror, one and the same but reflecting another person.

The door clicks open, squeaking as it swings to show you away, to the exit, finally leaving behind what you thought you could never let go of. But you pause before you leave, entertaining his question. When you have your answer, you don’t hesitate to deliver it.

“Sometimes you lose people. And there’s nothing you can do about it.” 

<><><><>

As the rerun comes through, cracked on the cheap speaker, fading quickly, you waltz around your room, feeling serene enough in the moment, losing yourself to the melody. How many hours have you wasted soaring through the skies in your office, only to plummet back down like a shot bird when you acknowledge the stack of papers spawning on your desk?

But when the hard day’s stresses melt away to the sway of your hips and your however offkey voice, no one is there to judge you. Luis isn’t chastising you about anything, and it’s good enough for you.

When the chorus swells, you open your mouth and belt out the lyrics, hoping the grainy walls can contain your voice, but the volume seems obnoxious, even for you. That’s when you notice the shadow on the floor towering over you, and you spin around.

Your eyes are glued to his mouth, to the words that are achingly pure and smooth, somehow heard through the glass. Illuminated by the tank lights, ethereal tones blending perfectly with the recording, enhancing it in a way you’d never heard. 

Raw emotion, the longing in his voice, however foreign to you, the curve of his accent, words you’ve never heard. All so new to you, chills racing down your spine, tickling at your back.

And when the song crests, his unearthly high notes soar with a beauty strong enough to bring tears, tears that you have to hold back in case someone were to walk in. When he seals his mouth with a smile—a private, intimate thing that feels like it belongs to you, you’re sufficiently spellbound, the world ceasing to exist.

His eyes flash in the water, flitting behind you, to the rattling of your door, and only after you’ve twisted over your shoulder to verify there’s no one there does he choose to make his exit. You see the corner of his tail flick, you hope in temporary goodbye, before you close your eyes and replay his voice in your head.

Over, and over, and over again, until all you can think about is him. How wonderful would it be if he was real, hm? You see him as an illusion now, you suppose, because how do you ever know something is truly real before you can feel it under your fingertips?

And when the voice is gone, fading from your mind into the echoes of your room, vibrations clamoring to bury the sweet sound that you long for now that it’s not with you anymore, you realize there is something you’ve been doing wrong.

Something that you must fix right away. Someone you’ve kept for far too long, yet another person you’ve lost and tried to bring back.

Your mother.

<><><><>

The ocean is trying to draw you in again, rhythmic waves pooling at your feet, urging you to come sleep in its embrace, take an everlasting nap to the lullaby of the water. But you’re not so easily fooled. You remember all you’ve lost, all you’ve regained, and how you’ve been forced to let everything go.

Not for your gain, but for theirs. You suppose scientific curiosity was not what you were chasing this entire time. Your resignation letters were turned in promptly, along with an anonymous report to the people you knew you could trust to shut down what is undoubtedly an illegal operation.

Will Luis be caught in the crossfire? You’re sure of it, and although you’ll never stop caring for the man you first loved, only shreds of compassion remind, and even those shreds are not enough to bail him out. 

You are far more concerned for the experiment, hope that he survives. If there’s anything you’ve learned during your time at the laboratory, it’s that no matter what branch of government, no one is merciful to anything different.

So you call upon all the gods watching, if there are any, and pray to them for forgiveness. Plead to them for mercy, and spin the lid off the vase that you’ve seen so many times, staring at it absentmindedly while studying, unable to understand a concept without your mother to explain it.

But like with all things and people, you’ve learned to live without her. And you’ve kept her spirit with you for far too long, haunting you in dreams, dreams she shouts your name in, screaming for peace. 

You break those shackles with a gentle toss, keeping the vase cradled in your arms as the ashes pour out into the water. Taking a step back to avoid any sticking with you, you dig your feet back into the dry sand, watching the dark particles disappear into the clear water.

She is free. Your mother is finally free.

A high pitched call returns your initial sob, and you swipe at your face, bleary eyed and trying to get a good look at what it could’ve been. The assumption it could be a dolphin has you reaching behind you for your bag, shuffling through its contents, pictures of you and your mother. You will not abandon those, for memories are precious, you know this well.

But when you bring your eyes back to the sea, you see a humanoid figure in the distance, raising their hand in greeting to you. Tawny hair that reflects the descending sun, a simple white shirt, gloriously unbuttoned, and khaki beige shorts.

You do not recognize him, and so out of fear, you retreat further and further into your backyard, all thoughts of admiring the sunset gone, as the man approaches. You reach for your stuff as you stumble backwards, never taking your eyes off of him and this plays in your favor.

Everything about him is so different, so foreign to you, and when he speaks, his voice is raspy, and you feel like a tourist all over again, in a city where you don’t belong. You don’t deserve this, to be standing here.

You lost him, right? But you could never mistake those eyes.

And now he’s human. There are no scales, no gills, no affront to his identity, one and the same as you, and yet he feels so different. You recognize his eyes, they haven’t changed from their cerulean blue, orbs crafted from the sea itself, forged by Poseidon’s hand, a statue in the hands of the gods, but so much is missing.

The raven feathers of his hair that would’ve looked stunning in the night, now out of place and far too vibrant against the mellow shades slowly darkening, becoming more somber. 

Twinkling lights strung in the space where the muscle stretches as he twists behind him, as if checking the sea, now gone dim and dissolved into the pale, unsullied skin of his neck.

You suppose you should be happy his voice hasn’t changed. With just one word, he lulls you back to him, and you can’t remember thinking of the differences between the experiment you had so vigorously studied and the man standing in front of you, not to be studied, but to be loved.

“Hi.” He reaches up, ruffles the back of his head, as if that will rattle out all the words spinning around in his mind, mirroring your own turmoiled thoughts. 

“Hi.” You mimic his actions, running sharp nails against the side of your scalp, failing to push stray strands away from your face. Through your hair, you peer at him, the sun long gone behind him, and parts of him are hidden again, like you’re hiding pieces of him from your conscious mind, fearing losing him again.

Most mystifying of all was how right it feels to have him standing right in front of you, finally equal, aside from the few inches that he has on you. Those depths of ocean blue lingering in his eyes grounds you, realizing how many times you’ve looked into those same eyes, wondering exactly what he’s thinking of.

Now you can know. And you’re not about to pass up the opportunity and let fear engulf you like you’ve let it usurp your mind so many times before.

"It's still you in there, isn't it?" you ask softly.

He smiles, and your heart skips at the familiar gesture, a smile you’ve unsurprisingly missed. "It is. I wanted to see you again."

"But how? How’d you… do this? And why come back?" You step closer, drinking in each subtle nuance of his new appearance. It’s appropriate for him, nothing too flashy, blending into the background. Aside from that halo of blond hair pressed to his forehead, slick with salt water.

“You freed me,” he says quietly, eyes searching your body, as if he’s trying to ingrain an image of you into his head. You did the same, not too long ago. But there was a need for it then, and no need for it now.

Reaching out tentatively, you trace the contour of his neck, half expecting to feel residual traces of his missing bioluminescence. Only warm skin meets your fingers, and a low sigh from his lips, and now that he’s here, under your touch, you know that he’s real. Not just for your sanity, but in reality, as well.

“You don’t owe me anything,” you say, just to clarify, because you assume the last thing you need is to owe a mythical sea creature. “We’ll call it even since you didn’t eat me.” He barks a soft laugh, a seal-like sound, before lacing your fingers with his onto his cheek, pressing your hand further into his skin.

 "I changed so I could be with you without barriers. So we could truly understand one another." He gazes meaningfully into your eyes. "If you'll have me."

“I don’t even know your name,” you say, breathless, because haven’t you expected all of your loved ones to come back to you just like this, before inevitably accepting it’ll never happen? And now it is.

“My name?” That goddamn smirk, whether he is able to communicate or not, whether he’s human or not, tells you all you need to.

“Hm?”

“Leon.”

“Leon,” you test out, rolling the name on your tongue, causing him to scrunch up his nose.

“What? You do not like it?”

“No, no,” you say, with a chuckle. “It suits you.”

His expression relaxes, frown vanishing as he pulls you closer, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder as he takes your other hand. A familiar tune thrums through your ear, reaching your brain at supersonic speeds, cruising into your blood. The first song he ever sang for you, and now both the memory and his voice seem so far away compared to this moment.

A single moment. Suspended in time, lovers finally reunited, pair after pair failing like incorrect puzzle pieces until now, you’ve found the one. 

And this time, you’re never letting go.

<><><><>

The stars arrange themselves in Leon’s eyes, constellations spelling out a story as you gaze down at him wholeheartedly, loving him with all your spirit and throwing caution to the wind. 

His gaze flickers from time to time, like if he truly blinks, you’ll be gone with the night breeze, a stray leaf on the sand, misplaced. 

“Did you like being a siren?” Leon’s eyes squeeze shut, head shifting on where it lies in your lap, hand creeping onto your knee.

“It’s all I’ve ever known,” he says timidly. “But you showed me more. I didn’t want to hurt people anymore after seeing you.”

“Me?” Your laugh is soft, melodious to his ears, and it soothes a little bit of the ache that has been forming since the day you arrived at the laboratory. “How’d you even find me?”

“Your mother,” he replies, voice soft. “I sensed her, and with her came you. And somehow, my father obliged in my wishes to… abandon my colony.”

“Abandon?” You quirk an eyebrow in concern.

“I can never return,” he says, but his tone is light and airy, unconvincingly so. “But I found that I would give the sea, my family, for you, even if it’s all I’ve ever known. There is nothing left for me there.”

“But you shouldn’t have,” you whisper back. “Give up all that, for me? You could’ve just visited once in a while… I wouldn’t have minded.”

“And yet I would find myself longing for your touch, even on the days that all seemed well, the ocean’s beauty is but a teardrop in comparison to yours.” Ever the charmer.

“You don’t… regret it?” Leon shakes his head.

“How could I? What part of my life would I regret if I gave something up to spending even a fraction of it with you? All those days, from the sun rising to the moon rising, and you were right there, even if you weren’t under my fingers.”

“You were beautiful,” you admit. “But…”

“And I suppose all along,” he continues, “I was truly just bait for my colony. It is better that I have left them, better to leave them safe where they are happy. Where I am now happy, with you, with your beautiful face and pretty voice.”

“Pretty voice?” You flush, hoping you can mask it as an abnormal overheating technique. He doesn’t seem to notice. “Really?”

“You always look so lovely when you sing,” he muses. “Sing a song for me, please?”

You don’t know what brings you to actually do it. Is it the warmth of his hair splayed out on your thighs, or his eager expression as his eyes drag upward, flitting to your lips. You hum a tune and instantly feel at ease, perhaps you should’ve pursued a life of music.

Music. It doesn’t sound as absurd as it did throughout high school and college, when you scorned the same people who have now grown famous for their voices. You saw them as lazy, when you should’ve seen them as talented.

You hold out a note, gazing towards the sea, wondering if your mother is watching you right at this moment. You wonder if she would be content with everything you’ve done in your life, if she’s forgiven you enough to let you have this peace. The peace you once denied her.

Leon’s approval comes in a hum of his own, snapping you out of your thoughts. His hand reaches upward, trailing your cheek before he tilts his head up and you lean forward and kiss him, and the seconds rush by far too quickly before he pulls away, lips already quite red, and the corner of his mouth ticks upward, exposing the pearl white of his grin.

“Just as perfect as the last time,” he murmurs, “my starry eyed singer.”

[chaosisalwayscrying]

NSFW ABC’S

⇥ synopsis : nsfw abcs for chris (my man)

⇥ warnings : smut/suggestive themes

⇥ extra : this is also late but my mom has not left me alone long enough to actually write these on time 😭😭

⇥ masterlist !

⇥ taglist !

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

   hes so good at aftercare!! like he is so so gentle. asks before pulling out and SPRINTS to get a rag to clean you up with, or if youd prefer he turns on the shower and helps you get clean before dressing you

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

   chris loves his hair, he loves how you tug on it as hes eating you out, and he loves the way you play with it when hes draped on your chest

    chris loves your ass and hips. he loves the way your ass jiggles when you walk up the stairs from his room, loves the way it bounces when you ride him, and he loves seeing his handprints on it

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

   never used condoms, youve been on bc since chris suggested starting to have sex. he obviously asked you about condoms multiple times in the middle of sex, scared youd changed your mind and he just forgot (bless his heart)

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

   LOVES LOVES LOVES when you blindfold him. loves not knowing whats gonna happen, he also loves how it heightens his other senses

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

   had 2 bodies before you, so he had some experience under his belt, but he still asked you what you were comfortable with

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

   doggy and reverse cowgirl. backshots are his absolute favorite thing ever because he can easily smack your ass and grip your hips hard as hell. he also loves watching your ass bounce as you bounce on him im reverse cowgirl, turns him on so bad

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

   nothing is serious to chris, hes cracking jokes left and right. only sometimes will he let it be more serious

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

   hes shaved not bald. has DEFINITELY let you use wax to make designs in his hair 😭😭

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

   can be romantic but doesnt do it often, hes not very good at it. praises you to the max to make up for it when hes trying to be more serious 😇

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

   he did it a LOT before you got together, but now that youre together he doesnt as much anymore. you do enjoy sending him nudes so he can send you videos of him jerking off in return tho

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

   mommy kink ‼️ he calls you ma outside of the bedroom anyway, but if hes feeling like being a sub hes whining out mommy every other word and LORD ITS HOT

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

   anywhere. if matt and nick are gone, hes a big fan of bending you over the kitchen table. in public he will literally follow you into the dressing rooms and press you up against the mirror

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

   literally anything. if its a serious situation hes not even thinking like that, but accidentally look at him the wrong way and hes hard, squat to get something, hes hard, change in front of him, hes hard. (bless his horny little heart)

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

   brat taming, doesnt like the idea of punishing you or having you act a certain way 24/7

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

   this man could happily spend a year of his life buried between your legs. will literally eat you out until youre spent beyond belief. he doesnt mind you sucking his dick but he would much rather have you bouncing on it.

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

   fast and rough 95% of the time, but he can absolutely be slow and sensual if thats what you want. his pace depends all on you, you say go faster? hes going faster immediately. you say slow down? hes slowing down without a complaint and pressing a kiss to whatever bit of exposed skin he can

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

   LOVES LOVES LOVES QUICKIES. at a party? youre going to the first bathroom he can see without a line. at the mall? dressing room. at a restaurant? bathroom.

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

   chris isnt opposed to experimenting, hes down to try most things once, but he does have a list of hard nos.

   however, he will take as many risks as he possibly can that youre ok with

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

   3 or 4, doing so many sports as a kid paid off because he has an insane amount of stamina. can go three rounds without even faltering, sometimes the fourth isnt possible cause he gets tired, but if hes REALLY horny he can go for four

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

   he owns none but you own a dildo and vibrator. he likes using them on you to tease you, and he likes watching them use them on yourself

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

   chris loves to tease but if he can see you arent feeling it he stops without you having to say anything (hes observed all your signs during and not during sex so he can read you like a book)

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

   sort of loud. if hes giving you backshots hes grunting and groaning but hes not being quiet about it, and if youre riding him, hes moaning and groaning and whining loud

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

   saw a tiktok about this couple doing a clone-a-willy, and very eagerly asked you if you would what that 😭 (clone-a-willy is this thing where you make a silicone mold of your dick and mail it to the company to make a dildo out of and they send it back)

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

   CHRIS IS THICK. he isnt too long but the thickness makes up for it. definitely needs to stretch you before even thinking about putting his dick in you 😭

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

   9/10, dude is ALWAYS HORNY, but he knows when to be serious and can go from 9/10 to 0/10 real quick

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

   falls asleep so fast, but he would never let himself fall asleep before you were both back in bed and comfortable.

⇥ TAGS !

@sturnioloshacker @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hertvgirl @cupidzsq @sturnnie @leah-loves-lilies @billkaulitz0630 @sturniolololover @stqrnstars @cicicinquistausa @tylerthecreatorsrealwife

[bhaalstemple]

i finished the game and veilguard was a disappointment lol

spoilers below

the way they butchered solas' character by just making him be led by the memory of mythal; no self-righteousness, savior complex, it was all done bc he wanted to honor mythal

why are the venatori worshipping elgar'nan and not a single elf. ????

how they made mythal far more important than lavellan to solas to the point for a moment i thought she was solas' ex (thank god it was clarified at the end she was only "solas' oldest friend")

the companions are so... lifeless. cheers to bellara for being the only one that feels like an actual human being and not an agglomeration of bad executed tropes (even if at the beginning she was)

the way mythal didn't end up being a villain, when she actively abused and groomed solas (and also morrigan btw) and it made all the sense in the world because she yearned for a reckoning and bring her revenge, a thing she has yearned for and been planning for a millennia because her anger is that strong... but no she just gave it up

the way morrigan's themes of parental abuse (breaking the cycle of abuse) go to shit after she embraced mythal's memories like.... as someone who has also an abusive mother that i broke contact with this made me want to fucking scream lol

morrigan's character also doesn't sound like her AT ALL, why is this woman smiling and being cocky, she's a scholar, a professional, a woman who carries knowledge that burdens her and trauma at the hands of a mother who should've cared for her. and how protective she was a kieran shows how private she is. what the hell. she would not be THAT friendly with strangers lol

and mythal being the only one who truly could change solas' mind at the end (just thinking abt it makes me want to punch a hole in the wall) + the anticlimactic departure of lavellan to the fade with solas is so fucking bad; because of the message it gives (this world is not worth-living for + a woman should spend the rest of her life and sacrificing herself for a man who put another random woman before her) and its joyless execution

if you get any other ending, the inquisitor doesn't even appear. lmfao. bye.

and lets not talk about the post-ending credits scene bc thats actually the thing that i hated the most. it makes all the themes and writing of bioware completely meaningless lol

the funny thing is that i have known for years where would bioware go with dragon age's story and 95% of my theories were correct, but me, someone who is not a writer, would've made a far more compelling story respecting dragon age's themes and nuance. i even predicted that mythal abused and groomed solas, but they executed it so badly that i can't believe these people get paid to write stories lmfao

i literally feel so betrayed, so hollow, so sad, i don't know what to do. i literally just uninstalled veilguard after finishing it. i spent 10 years imagining how the story would go, but id never imagine it would be THIS BAD.

the books, the content, so well-crafted, and so well-executed, just to make a stupid game that breaks all of its themes and leaves them meaningless. what the hell was happening in bioware when all the side-content has so much complexity and nuance (mostly tevinter nights), what happened lmao

[fictional-orphan-smackdown]

ROUND 3, MATCH 5!

All propaganda and what each competitor is from under the cut

Trafalgar D. Water Law (Once Piece)

Law is a genocide survivor who saw his parents' dead bodies along with experiencing a whole bunch of other messed up stuff (his sister burning to death, the people of his country being shot for being poisoned by their own government, being terminally ill, escaping the genocide by hiding under a pile of dead bodies, etc etc). After all this shit, he eventually got forcibly adopted by this one guy and dragged around the world looking for a cure for his illness. Right when Law started to trust and love his new caretaker, he is also brutally murdered in front of him. Law's life goal for the next decade is to get revenge on the person who killed his adoptive father. Vote for him bc he needs a goddamn win for once in his life. He is the people's princess and the narrative's favorite punching bag. Also, his depressed, PTSD-ridden autistic swag and scoliosis realness have captivated me body and soul

His biological parents were killed (before his eyes, by the governement) when he was 10(?). He then joined a bunch of pirates, knowing he wouldn't have much time (and will) left to live anyway. There he was sort of adopted by the Big Bad Pirate's brother, who managed to save his life, only for said brother to be killed (more or less before Law's eyes, by the Big Bad Pirate), when he was 13. You could say he was orphaned twice.

He’s literally got the double orphan special (Parents died and then the guy who took him in after them died too) that’s a 50% increase in orphannedness above your standard orphan. He’s also cool as fuck.

Law's parents were already on death row along with him and his younger sister due to a disease that shortens the life span of a person. The disease can only be passed down genetically and has afflicted everyone in the town that he has grown up in. Due to the sudden outbreak and unknown nature of the disease to the rest of the world panicked and the government closed off his city, killing everyone there. That is how his first set of parents died when he was 10, I think. Still then Law would later join a pirate crew where he would eventually be taken away 2-3 years later by Corazon, marine working undercover as a pirate in order to take down this brother, who is the captain of crew Law joined. Corazon took him in order to cure Law's disease which he still had and to get him away from Doflamingo, his brother. Over the course of 6 months the two became close with Corazon essentially becoming a father figure to Law. I am simplify this but at some point of Doflamingo catches on to Corazon being a double agent and finds him. Doflamingo then proceeds to find Corazon and shoot him in front of a chest that Law was hiding in.

Law has faced many hardships since he was a child, but used his experiences to become an extremely powerful doctor. His pirate crew theme and his Devil Fruit ability are all owed to his adoptive father. Law acts really gruff and serious most of the time, initially seeming like a cool, calculating character and feared swordsman… but one second around the Straw Hats and you quickly see just how silly he really is. He hates bread. He collects coins. He is obsessed with ninjas and superhero comic books. In one arc he just fucked around with his powers and INVENTED harpies and centaurs. Oh, and his First Mate is a polar bear. What could be better than that?

The government ordered to kill everyone in Law's country due to everyone getting "fantasy lead poisoning" disease, which was wrongfully thought to be contagious stroked. Law's family was living at the hospital when they got attacked, his parents (who were doctors) got killed and the hospital got set on fire with his little sister inside. He managed to fled the country hiding in a pile of corpses and ended up joining a pirate crew lead by Doflamingo. Law knew he had the disease and it was going to kill him in three years. Doflamingo's brother, Rosinante took Law hospital to hospital to find a cure but they always rejected him thinking the disease was contagious. Then they learned that someone had offered Doflamingo a devil fruit that could grant him immortality. The fruit could also cure Law so Rosinante stole it and made Law eat it. He then made sure Law could escape Doflamingo and got killed by his brother.

dude spent his childhood getting thrown out of windows, while dying from a deadly disease (that was eventually cured) but while he was still showing symptoms of the disease no one would go near him out of fear and disgust, save for his father figure.

nothing can ever go right for this man. its fucking hilarious in the series and makes for some wonderful angst content. i want everyone who has not watched or read One Piece to know that, for half of his 'main' arc, he's carried around like a potato sack by MULTIPLE people. he is a damsel in despair. he didn't even need to be carried, he honestly could've walked, but he had to save that energy so he could take the like 17 lead bullets out of him. he's always getting shot or thrown out a window and he's severely injured more often than not. he's also a doctor/surgeon, one that should be able to cure incurable diseases, yet his pathetic loserboy ass is too busy being emo to worry about the several gunshot wounds and internal bleeding. god help this man but also don't because honestly it's really fucking funny

Ok, FIRST, when he was a tiny frog-disecting little kid, him and his family and island contacted a disease equivalent to cancer BUT his fam didn't die from that. No, no, his parents got gunned down by the military and his little sis was burned alive with the rest of his house, so, yeah, very traumatic, horrific in a way that makes you very angry at yourself and life and want to oh I don't know, kill everyone and everything possible until the day you die, which won't be long because you have cancer after all. Later, after joining a mafia/cult/gang, Law meets Corazon who after like 2 years kidnaps him to try and get him healed and so they spend the next 6 months bonding, WEEEEEE!! Wait, no, NOT weeee because Cora who is now his father-figure DIES having protected and saved him, and thus bruv becomes orphaned not once, not thrice, but TWO very traumatic times! If this isn't an orphan, idk what is……

Anthony Lockwood (Lockwood and Co)

Lockwood (he's known by his surname mostly) is the mysterious, daredevil and charming founder of Lockwood and Co., a detective agency specialised in protecting people from angry -and sometimes sort of hungry- ghosts in a world where they're rampant. His agency is starting small despite Lockwood bragging it's the best in London but get more and more recognition as the series progress and the agents composing them meet success (when they're not on the verge of dying). Lockwood has open manners but hid his painful past from his coworkers to protect himself. He and George, the first teenager he recruited, are quite stunned by Lucy, a country girl who fled to London after disaster striked in her hometown. Thanks to her talent, she quickly becomes known as one of the best ghost fighter in London and finds her place in the small team despite having the same determination to hide her past than Lockwood, which draws him close to her, making George jealous, but Lockwood's manifest good skills in leadership and the three of them become fast friends while unravelling secret truths and risking their lives repeatedly

He has a lot of trauma and a lot of pain but he always smiles and always has a warm and polite attitude; he’s so protective of the ones he loves that it overrides his suicidal tendencies; at the end of the series he starts to heal from his past; he’s hot but has only two braincells.

[dekusleftsock]

Me personally, I’m a very big fan of how Horikoshi handled his themes around forgiveness. I love that he really hammers in that forgiveness is a choice that someone can or cannot make, and that neither of those decisions are necessarily “wrong” or “harmful”, that they’re just that. Choices.

And I realized just how much I enjoyed how he handles this because of these leaks. Like him choosing to never forgive Shigaraki for what he’s done, yet wanting to end the suffering as much as possible I feel really speaks to an experience I could never put into words. It’s so viscerally human to be angry, happy, sad; it’s human to forgive, it’s human to not. It’s human to empathize with someone you fundamentally feel shouldn’t be empathized for, and yet it is the single most prominent structure of ancient human societies. We live to empathize, it’s why we have a dog in our house, or we help heal a stranger back to health; and I don’t necessarily think is what “makes us human” bc I feel that excludes people who don’t (because they do exist and nothing is wrong with them for not doing so), but I think it does speak to a very common feeling. It’s normal to want revenge, or to be angry, or to not forgive, but it’s also perfectly normal to want to end the suffering from its source.

That’s also a prominent feature of the Todoroki family, and it’s also what made me so angry about the interpretations surrounding it. There’s nothing wrong with Fuyumi or Natsuo to respond differently to their shared father’s abuse, they’re normal and expected ways to handle one’s inner turmoil. There is healing in forgiving someone, that’s a perfectly truthful idea. But what’s also a way to heal is to simply not let someone matter in your life, you can simultaneously be angry for what they’ve done…and be perfectly fulfilled/healed.

Horikoshi isn’t telling you to forgive bad people, he’s telling you that there’s a reason behind every bad action, that empathy and shared humanity is the single most integral part to a healthy society.

And I love this EVEN MORE because Midoriya Izuku: Rising isn’t even about Izuku, it’s about how everyone else has brought him here, now. That we are one people, one society—Izuku may be the driving horse but he stands as a symbol of our shared humanity in this moment.

I wish I could find the officials rn but I’m gonna have to interpret this given what it is.

Ochako’s choice to “not wipe your slate clean” almost feels less like a “I can’t forgive you” and more like a “society won’t forgive you” statement.

Where Izuku’s or Natsuo’s choice to not forgive someone who has hurt them was a personal decision, this was more of a decision to empathize with Himiko, maybe even forgive her. I can’t help but notice that this was much more of a confession/declaration of affection for someone who has done bad things, than it was about forgiveness and mistakes.

It almost feels more like the bkdk apology if I’m honest. Both of which never have a “I won’t ever forgive you for this” statement, more like they avoid it in its entirety. Same with Rei and Endeavors conversations.

Because it is the victims choice to forgive or not forgive someone. They have as much a right to do so as anyone else.

I guess that’s why I always hated the whole “Izuku shouldn’t forgive Katsuki” take, it’s a very literal commentary on the very thing Horikoshi has written is wrong. It’s wrong to try to tell someone how they should or shouldn’t have reacted to something, you are taking away their integrity. To a certain extent you are infantilizing their ability to make choices for themself.

So it’s for this reason that my love for this series shoots to the sky at this “I won’t forgive you” moment. It’s like Izukus guilt has been lifted, that he has allowed himself to be angry or bitter at someone for wronging him or someone he loves. The mask has fallen, this is it; Izuku and Tenko, and he is being honest of his feelings.

That’s what I love most—the honesty, the anger, the relief, the love, and that these are his choices. No one can take that away from him. Not you, not I, not us.

[oliviabear]

i really do love this show overall i think especially the sisters/twins storyline is genius and it’s been too long for star wars to do something like this bc it’s literally perfect and gives so much room to play with the light/dark theme plus its so intricately connected to family in this way and that makes the parallels and differences so much more striking and complex, i am obsessed.

this last episode was so cool as well because you could see the difference in treatment by osha and mae’s "masters" and how both sisters deal with it. how both of them crave connection to each other because one is all the other really needs but their past and their circumstances pull them further away.

like all mae ever wanted in her life was to be with her family and stay with them. she craves that familial affection and closeness so much and qimir never could give it to her because he's set on a whole different connection. but sol isn’t and that’s exactly how he treated osha when she was his pupil. which is something he can give to mae now that she’s with him. to me, he’s a very fatherlike figure and considering mae lost her moms and then her sister to him it will be hard to see him in that way but her desire for family might tower over her resentment for him. cause when he hugged her she hesitated killing him. she needs that closeness so bad. i need people talking about their hug and interaction more, it was so interesting to watch.

meanwhile everything osha wanted was to be understood by someone for who she is. and her family couldn’t give her that because they wanted her to be someone she’s not. and then sol couldnt give her that because he needed her to be something she couldn’t be. and let all that grief and emotions go and find peace the jedi code follows. but she couldn’t do that. her emotions are what makes her so strong and the force feeds on that which is something qimir can see and encourages. that’s literally what she needs. and what she has wanted from anyone in her life. like that intimacy of being understood. actually understood for her feelings and who she is. and then he hits her with "i understand" it was perfect

[rainy-writers]

When are y’all gonna get it through your heads that no one actually cared if the Velaryon boys were bastards or not? They could have come out with white hair, violet eyes, the whole shebang and the rumor still would have been spread because it was meant to undermine RHAENYRA and her claim, nothing else!!

It was a misogynistic attempt to paint her as reckless and irresponsible and another way for the greens to push for Aegon. It was fear mongering, meant to say “Hey! Choose Aegon because you guys don’t want a bastard on the throne, right?” And it didn’t fucking work, save for on the idiot audience that still eats this shit up and genuinely believes that the dance happened bc Harwin and Rhaenyra weren’t married, rather than realizing the whole theme is MISOGYNY!! ITS ABOUT USURPING A WOMAN NO MATTER WHAT SHE DOES, SOLEY BC SHES A WOMAN AND NOTHING ELSE!!

If she had no kids = Vote for Aegon cause she’s barren!!

If she had kids = Vote for Aegon cause they’re bastards!!

If she has kids that look exactly like her = Vote for Aegon bc her kids are clearly Daemon’s bastards am I right? Vote Aegon bc he’s clearly the more responsible of the two with his trueborn kids!!

It. Does. Not. Matter.

And it makes me so mad, especially when people say that the realm wouldn’t have accepted Jace like DUDE. Nobody is just casually going around saying these kids are bastards, save for the people that KNOW they can get away with it if they’re caught bc Viserys wouldn’t dare punish them. Aka:

Alicent, Otto, and her nightmare kids. That’s it. No, some random Lord in the Reach wasn’t preaching about Jace, Luke, and Joff being bastards. I sincerely hate to burst your bubble (NOT!) but you guys as an audience care more than the actual people that live in this world and it’s so funny.

Basic media literacy will tell you that NO, Westeros did not care. How do I know? Well it’s simple really. If they cared then majority of them simply wouldn’t pledge to support Rhaenyra, clearly knowing that Jace is her heir??

I mean, these are all of the houses that supported Rhaenyra AND Jace:

I mean do yall honestly think Cregan Stark thought Jace was a bastard when he swore an oath in BLOOD with Jace, marched PERSONALLY to the south AFTER Jace was dead, and tried to literally kill the CHILDREN of the Lord’s who rose up against him and Rhaenyra?

Do you think Lady Jeyne gaf when she personally pledged to support him? Lord Manderly? Hm.

No, they didn’t lmao.

So please, kill this narrative that “There was going to be rebellion if Jace ascended the throne” and “The realm wouldn’t accept him bc all of them secretly knew he was a bastard despite having no proof because his father, his grandfather and THEIR KING never said otherwise.”

It would not have happened y’all. And one day you blood purist, Velaryon boys haters are going to get it through your head that YES !! They were legitimate because no one ever said otherwise. It was never proven. Rumor isn’t proof. Hair isn’t proof for fucks sake. You need actual words from Laenor himself saying that RHAENYRA cheated and those boys are Harwin’s. You need Corlys passing over Luke for Driftmark and outright saying it’s because he’s a bastard to even get a SHREAD of doubt from the great houses.

One day you guys are going to realize that those boys were loved and no matter how much you try and discredit them, they will always be legitimate. Whether you like it or not, Viserys was content with Jace being on the throne after him, THE REALM was content, and Corlys Velaryon was ready to die peacefully knowing Luke was going to be after him. Hell, he damn near handed that boy the keys so don’t you dare say Luke didn’t deserve to inherit anything.

And sorry for the long post but some of yall are really starting to piss me off. Never mind that this is fiction, your attitude towards these boys is disguising and saying that they don’t deserve a good life, that they dont deserve things that were literally GIVEN to them with no complaints, and even going as far as to call them dirty or saying they deserve to die all because their mommy and daddy weren’t married is fucking disgusting.

This “bastards don’t deserve anything,” attitude needs to stop being preached by real life people. Hell, some of the people saying this are literally in the wedding photos of their own parents wedding LMAO. It concerns me on how much disregard you guys have for adopted kids (which is basically what they are to Laenor), and I’d hate to see the shit you preach in real life. Acting like blood actually matters in order for someone to be considered family.

Because regardless of what you believe, had their mother not been usurped because she was a WOMAN, Jace would have ruled, Luke would’ve gotten Driftmark and, yes, the world of Westeros would’ve kept fucking spinning.

By law these boys were legitimate and people seem to forget they came out of Rhaenyra’s coochie so REGARDLESS, they are Targaryen. Like unless Viserys or Daemon was their father, they were always going to be half NOT Targaryen lol…Just like Alicent’s kids. It just so happens that they’re half Strong, but again, it doesn’t matter, because Jace gets his claim from RHAENYRA, not his father, so even if Harwin was married to Rhaenyra he still would’ve been the heir?? Even if it wasn’t Laenor who was his father, he’d still be heir because of his mother and being married to someone does not change that.

Some people even go as far as to argue that they’re not Targaryen so Jace shouldn’t be the heir which is stupidest thing I’ve ever heard and the most blatant case of misogyny ever. Like unless your father cloned himself then you STILL get half your genes from your mother dumbass. They are as much Targaryen as the Hightower kids with their DARK HARIED PARENT, it just so happens that their Targ side is from a woman, not a man. Which, like I said, if you don’t consider them Targaryen just bc they don’t get their claim from their father then we know what you are. 🙃

But anyways, to make a long post short, yes these boys are legitimate, they were recognized as such by:

The King himself (who they’d be inheriting from)

Rhaenyra

Laenor (their father, who they’d be inheriting from and wanted Luke to have Driftmark)

Corlys (their grandfather, who Luke would be inheriting from and wanted Luke to have Driftmark)

Rhaenys

The Realm

History

And if you still don’t believe me, here’s the official Targaryen family tree from Fire and Blood which all of Westeros sees :)

You see how they’re listed as Velaryon? You see how they’re directly linked to Laenor and there’s no little astric saying how they’re bastards? Yeah me too.

PS - Read Fire and Blood as well. This whole argument about them being bastards is literally stemmed from no more than two paragraphs, IF that. And their legitimacy is never brought up again.