#but is it a headcanon if its reality is the question

[pumpkinsy0]

since its thanksgiving, im just gonna offer the headcanon idea i know we're all thinking about today: hcs for extended family visiting the curtis' house for the first time and they're very passive aggressive doing that nice but mean southern thing and Pony (having moved to NY in my mind and being the progressive king that he is 💗) is tweaking out a little but is trying to keep his composure so his brothers (and the part of the gang that's celebrating with them) can get to know the family without interruption and be able to somehow be closer to their parents in a way?? Idk but that's my kings logic, but then... they say smth about Curly or him and curly and/or the gang being there and Pony goes OFF. Like no one has ever seen him get so mad and get so VERBAL about it 😭 I feel like once the extended family leaves everyone is like THANK GOD and Pony was so confused because he thought they were chilling but in REALITY they were just as mad as him but bit their tongues because they wanted PONY to be able to feel more connected to their parents through their extended family ANDD perhaps the reason some of the extended family said smth about curly is because OUR KING was telling them off privately or smth! Is this ask too long and detailed to be considered a hc request? (Also if it wasn't clear, adult papercut because I loooove them)

i love thanksgiving beef man, sometimes its funny asf😭😭

but omg u r so real for having pony move to nyc cause i was always thinking the same lowkey,,,,yes its self projection to have him live there but i have other reasons guys i swear i do!!!!

BUT YEA!! hcs woo!!!!!

•ive always believed that mr and mrs curtis kinda ran away FROM their families and went no contact around the time mrs curtis was pregnant w darry, darrys always been aware of it but it never bothered him much!! but he knows soda and ponys always had some sort of curiosity about em, thing is their parents never told them y they went no contact, so when that side if the family reached out they were like “what the hell, sure”

•and for extra drama lets say this side of the family r socs, i like drama what can i say, BUT POINT IS, none of em rlly know shit about the other, but the gang SWEARS to b on their best behavior for the sanity of each other

•skipping to them actually BEING there, i will tell u that while tensions were TOTALLY there, there was a sliver of hope. they were friendly at first (mostly to the curtis bros) and kinda dismissive of the gang asking if they were gonna day the WHOLE day, but they werent “outright disrespectful” so they sucked it up

•yes btw, that was a red flag for like EVERYONE, but like u said, theyre all going through this bs for the sake of everyone else, if one person loses it, they all will

•this isnt to say that the gang is 100% biting their tongues tho!!! they arent taking it from anyone, they just dont do as much as they normally would, they share looks and annoyed sighs too, that whole friendly thing from early is just deteriorating

•ANYWAYS that family is talking shit about everything, its literally EVERYTHING, their house, their clothes, the food, they knitpick EVERYTHING, the only person theyre showing any semblance of respect towards is pony!!! they r absolutely taking shots at darry and soda, calling them irresponsible to raise pony the way they did, and then they say “bless ur hearts”???? oh yea everyone is SICCCKKKK of them😭😭

•nobody rlly has a problem w them hyping up pony, they will take all the shots if that just means pony is respected , thats their little brother right there!!!! so when the family is just questioning pony about living in nyc and his life there, theyre genuinely interested, but ponys not warming up to em, he can feel them pity him a little bit and he hatessss pity

•especially bc their pity is coming from their judgement of his family!!! they feel bad for him for being raised in such a “poor enviorment”

•BUT BACK TO CURLY!!! when they hear about curly being ponys roommate, u already knowwww they got something to say about him, pony didnt even mention them being together, they just had that vibe about pony (LMAOOOO), and turns out talking about curly was just ponys tipping point cause now u ESPECIALLY know nothing about that part of his life!! shut up!!!

•pony blowing up at them would b such a quick thing, he doesnt stay there and argue, he says what he has to say (which idk what he says exactly but ik it was insane, pony has such a way w words) and just walks out to get fresh air

•when he finally calms down and gets himself together tho, iiii dont think hes going back home immediately, he feels so bad for ruining the dinner and doesnt have the strength to go back inside in fear of everyone looking at him and seeing darry and soda all sulky

•eventually after walking for a solid 30 mins he got rlly cole and decided to go back inside and he just sucked it up and went back inside, however!!!! he noticed the family left and his heart dropped but when he walked in he noticed that everyone else was still eating and talking!!happier even!!! yahoo!!!!!

•pony tried apologizing and all the gang said was “who cares, they sucked”, darry DID scold pony telling him not to do that again but pony could tell darrys heart wasnt in it, hes so glad they left😭😭

•pony never told curly about this btw, he finds out about this months later bc of two and curly neverrrr lets pony forget about it and hypes him up

[madrabit]

Challenge "keep the tags normal and under 30"

Me: task failed successfully ✨️

Quick question is 10pm already late enough to make a truly unhinged post or would this have been better suited for 3am? Well… tough luck bc you’re seeing it now 🤷🏻😅

Anyway so the other day @madrabit and I were planning our BoJance kinktober and I made the offhand comment that in my mind, when it comes to them, I always feel like I write 80% of Bojan bottoming, 15% of Jan bottoming and 5% of Nace bottoming and more or less 50/50 of Nace and Jan topping, with a tiny majority of Nace topping

And because we’re insane we counted of course, and while I had honestly already forgotten about it 😬, when I just tagged this post

I was reminded of our insanity

Anyway, here is, without further ado, the lovely little list @madrabit made:

(“Fuckdays” refers to penetration, btw)

So as you can see, we have 20 days where someone gets fucked and it’s 85% Bojan, 15% Jan and 5% Nace which has me INSANE bc why did I just guess that so correctly (also don’t worry abt the 105% this adds up to, some days have multiples 😇)

Idk what the scope of this post is but… enjoy some fanfic statistics? I guess? 🤷🏻😅🫶🏻

Also sorry not sorry to anyone who was possibly rooting for us to post some top Bojan for kinktober, but uh… we are not your guy, it appears 💖

[anantaru]

EX HUSBAND NEUVILLETTE

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — ex! husband neuvillette headcanons

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, fluff, crack lmao, he‘s trying his best, very rough like he’s feral!!!!, fucks you like there’s no tomorrow, but the sweetest man, a little possessive without him realising

ex! husband neuvillette, who— as was wildly anticipated, would not instantly vanish from your life nor leave you stranded alone beside the mental toll that a separation would leave on the both of you— even after the grief-stricken divorce was at last, ultimately finalized and carried out.

ex! husband neuvillette who thought that— with the fullness of his devastated heart, that in his own very eyes, it was beyond a doubt commonplace to aid and assist his ex-wife in the so called "aftermath" of your troubling divorce, whilst more urgently, be in no qualms that you're being cared for with everything and anything you could possible need.

ex! husband neuvillette, who of course, would double check with you to not suddenly overstep any boundaries or take up space that you might need— yet bare in mind, if you were to ask him for help on any matter really, he'd immediately leave everything behind to fulfill your wishes first, considering he is used to it, but the man will tend to forget about his own personal needs which he needed so he could function properly— yet now with you out of the picture, walking back to his current reality was becoming a taxing task.

ex! husband neuvillette, who, aside from his own separate challenges and demands, would never dare to cast aside his important work of practically running the nation of hydro. much obliged, he was a prestigious, praiseworthy man, thus the reason for him to pull more effort and sleepless nights into his occupation.

ex! husband neuvillette who couldn't believe that you both were divorced in the first place because in all seriousness, there wasn't much changing and aside from a couple instances, for example that he wasn't seeing you frequently, it felt the same way to him.

ex! husband neuvillette who, after a couple weeks into your divorce, will suddenly become a little more distant, not responding to letters you would occasionally send to make sure he was okay— with the immediate turbulent, overcast weather in fontaine adding to the closing eeriness of the entire situation. it's constant, clouded and gray, a mirage of cold rain and an incoming storm, and the people of fontaine will begin to question what had happened or if it was simply an unlucky past couple of weeks.

ex! husband neuvillette who doesn't like the idea of divorce, as might be expected he understands it, but in his own regard, he does not approve of it, but he accepts it— additionally, he wouldn't force you to stay with him, again, why he had agreed on it in the first place. the man would lie to himself if he'd say that it doesn't break his heart, the unclouded thought of wholly erasing the person he referred to as his 'wife' off his entire life was a frightening pondering.

ex! husband neuvillette wasn't willing to accept it, ever, but he did it for your sake and the small possibility of you becoming close again, in the future? perhaps, he was willing to wait endlessly, condemning himself to a lifetime in darkness, knowing full on well that his most desired dream to reconcile arguably wouldn't come true— on top of that, after careful, deep talks on how to properly navigate your divorce and being separated from now on, you have both ultimately agreed on remaining 'friends' in a sense, such was easy to state of course but you longed to make the best out of it, or at least try.

ex! husband neuvillette who will against all odds, still keep his wedding ring put on its designated place. granted, he had gotten quite accustomed to the feeling of it being wrapped around his finger and doesn't want to take it off. if you do decide to ask him about it, given that you aren't wearing yours anymore, he will plainly state that he got used to it way too much and it had grown on him, really, becoming a part of his person so ultimately taking it off would result in the same as him severing a limb off his body.

ex! husband neuvillette who still calls you his wife unintentionally, in the beginning of the first couple of weeks, it will happen almost all the time. be that as it may, he doesn't do it on purpose to somehow hurt you or make you uncomfortable, and he was aware of the fact that he needed to get accustomed to the feeling of being single again, of not being married anymore but calling you his wife just warmths his chest and hugs him from inside and out.

ex! husband neuvillette bets on it, it's like his whole day could be stacked with work on end, without a second of tranquility in sight, rain droplets covering the nation of hydro, but when he thinks about you, only you, a smile coruscates over his soft lips, increasing his heart beat, it's all so painful but he wouldn't want it any other way because nothing, and he emphasizes it deeply, nothing would be as painful as having you gone form his life.

ex! husband neuvillette who, and pay attention now, this would only happen if his strong, rational thinking skills and durable emotions towards keeping the laws of this world truthful were somewhat altered in an instance of weakness, but he would adore to throw and punish every new person you would date after him behind bars, yet not before properly dragging them to a trail that they cannot win, for him to look down on them— again, it's a small fantasy he wouldn't bring into life, he honored his noble work.

ex! husband neuvillette who knows that even day dreaming about such wrongful ideas were full of holes and malice, yet beyond it, he keeps himself restrained in not interfering in your new relationships— which he had thought must be a lot, you could say he believed that you were already out and about in the dating world, overthinking the worst out of all possibilities that could happen.

ex! husband neuvillette who will oftentimes send the melusines out to check up on you and tell him how you're doing— no, don't misunderstand, he doesn't want to know if you were dating again, he wouldn't, after all, this was your personal life and he wasn't your husband anymore. but then again, surely checking every now and then wouldn't hurt a soul, right?

ex! husband neuvillette will send you freshly picked flowers frequently, or have your favorite dish made by a professional chef. how can i forget to mention that he tends to buy a small, cute souvenir that would remind him of you and send it your way instantly. at how things were slowly progressing, the man will be quite embarrassed in facing you again, granted that you had promised to remain friends, he fears that the constant raining and pouring around fontaine would make it desperately obvious on how he was truly feeling, what can there be left anyways, nothing but the untouchable part of him, his aching soul begging for closeness.

but ex! husband neuvillette does not want to trouble you, fearing he might become overbearing in his doings, but he misses you, this time it's more raw than that, more exposed, more pure. he longes for a moment where he can see and feel you again, his mind circling through emotions and pondering, sinful dreams stitching his psyche together and calming down his heart.

ex! husband neuvillette who will be surprised, yet overly thrilled as if he was about to jump off his chair, when you ask the sweet melusines to hand him over a letter— the scent of the thin paper reminding him of your fragrance, a similar one he noticed whenever he kissed your neck. beyond question, they couldn't have told him fast enough, he finishes up the necessary work load for the day, at once forging ahead to your once shared house. you know it by now but he does not falter, he wants this to be perfect, carefully picking up a bouquet of flowers, with the flowers in questions being the very ones that have been decorating your wedding venue back in the day, oh sweet memories, he hopes he doesn't come off as crazy.

ex! husband neuvillette who tries to play it cool, it's not a big deal, but why were his hands sweating? his breathing was fast too, burgeoning, each following step towards your home, his limbs and muscles would begin to tremble, it's evident and almost aflame, but the weather has been nice again all of a sudden, for once in fontaine and he couldn't wait to see you.

ex! husband neuvillette who cannot say anything when you open the door for him, all these miles with the memories of your passionate time together pouring back into his mind. it's silly, but so real, and there was a silence, although not of an uncomfortable kind, it was overthrowing the hefty atmosphere.

and honestly, you think ex! husband neuvillette was cute when he was all overwhelmed and bereft of speech, even cuter when he’s silently walking past the door, your hands slowly wrapping around the bouquet of flowers to place them aside, on top of a wooden drawer before panning your eyes back into his grasp— which was his piercing, conquering gaze.

you could perceive the cutting tautness, how the reinforced pressure alone couldn't be torn, not with a sharp knife, no sword, no blade, because forthrightly— there wasn't anything on this planet that was able to part this emerging and crashing body chemistry.

all fairness to the situation— your captivation was off the charts, two people unable to coexist while parted, searching within your souls to understand what was happening. yet then it hit you, that maybe— heavily placed on a single maybe, that there might've been a cruel mistake in how things ended between you both;

or did they end?

because like a bullet piercing through soft flesh, it gave the impression away as if you were both moving closer to your sweet frames until you could clearly feel his warm, clothed chest pushed against your own— hopeful eyes remained locked within your gazes as you carefully slide your hands behind his neck without breaking his stares.

ex! husband neuvillette whose breathing was all fast and hasty, yet much swifter was his never ending intention to kiss you again and taste your lips in the process, he cannot stop himself anymore, but he must— for some reason, he cannot fathom that this might be reality and that you both would have a second chance in this life after all.

"kiss me." you suddenly whisper, eyes aglow with his own enlarging at the nervous utterance, subtle touches weaving together and showing your open truths.

ex! husband neuvillette feels how tense he has gotten and tries to relax— on top of that, he was reminiscing about the past and the bare memories of your writhing body splayed under his large one, his entire weight on top of you, just the whisper of his sinful imagination made his mouth water— he truly believes he was in fact dreaming right now, especially when you tell him to kiss him again.

there were no thoughts to process anymore, no focus he could grasp on to remain clearness— what was left were true, unfaltering desires and the scalding pain of waiting. that‘s when you kiss him instead, his body immediately welcoming your fervid warmth, pulling his head towards your own in a heart beat.

ex! husband neuvillette felt a heavy hardship being lifted off his shoulders the moment your lips touch his, and each one of the words he had planned to spell out to you, they form into a sting that was beating into his heart, repeatedly, the sharp stitches seeping into his veins slowly. and he refuses to cry in front of you, or expose to you that everything that had happened after your separation was covered in nothing but a silent numbness.

swallowing the lump in his throat, ex! husband neuvillette guides you to the bedroom, it was hard to decipher what was real or not, each motion of your lips rounding across his own felt like he was dreaming the most beautiful dream of them all. the whisper of cold air brushes across your bodies when he opens the door to the cold room, his own imagination going wild when he peeks at the neatly made bed, or the wooden drawer next to it, still having your wedding picture on display.

ex! husband neuvillette who takes his time in undressing you, the fear of someone taking you away from him again, even now, was still there and he wanted, no, needed to relish in this as good as possible. neuvillette wets his lips, nervous, "my love.. are you sure about this?" and he hesitated for a second— but when you tug at his own sleeves now, fondling with the expensive garment, nodding your head and expertly wrapping your digits into the thin fabric to help him out of it, he knows you wanted it as badly as he did, popping his arms back so you could pull his coat down, your mouth twisting into a subtle smile.

ex! husband neuvillette who touches you featherlight, slowly parting your legs to settle in between, and butterflies expand in your belly when you admire his beauty from up close again, his muscles twitching when you decide to lightly graze his skin with your fingertips, smoothly sliding over his chest before wrapping your arms around his neck. 

ex! husband neuvillette who could honestly cry the moment he first slides his cock into you again, kissing you again and again, more deeply, more feral and in need before licking into your mouth, leaving his large hand to wander down to the plush of your ass and push you into the mattress when he first bottoms out of you. you're so warm, wet and comfortable while you're clamping down on him. and neuvillette pistols his hips like an electric light, hoping he'd be able to hit so deep inside your warm cunt till you practically feel him stir up your guts.

and a moan slowly builds up in your throat as your tits brush against his strong chest— whilst neuvillette places a delicious, fast pace on you, the bare strength of his thrusts making the headboard bounce back and forth the wall as he nibbles on your bottom lip while fucking his cock into you, your gummy walls squelching at each well received pump.

ex! husband neuvillette who roughly palms your tits and plays with your nipples with his hips moving in a feral tempo— whilst those breathy, wet pleas of your name, the ones he whispered against your ear, evolve into gluttonous, hungry groans, whilst the thought about losing all of this made it more difficult for him to say anything at all, his throat acting as a trap for that one sentence he intended to spell out, the sound of it awaiting to break free— but the nervousness couldn't be surpassed as he takes a hold of your hand, desperately clutching on it before grinding his erection back into you, a pulse surging through the entirety of your walls.

ex! husband neuvillette who finds it mesmerizing on how you were so responsive to his every nibble and touch, his thudding cock diving between your legs while he fists your tits in his warm hand, your lips parting with cries and begs while meeting his hungry pace.

his hips, much bigger than yours, keep hitting into you, a lustful gaze on your facial expression clouding your mind as he makes you feel so unbelievably good, soaking your sheets as you kiss him, famished and hot, feeling his needy grunts exhaling through his lips as you clench down hard, gazes meeting once and for all, "i love you." you say, almost cry it out, and neuvillette wanted to be patient with you, claim your body to its full exhaustion afterwards, but not now, he cannot keep his cool this time— not anymore, not after you said those very three words he wasn't able to utter out all night.

you're truly driving him insane, and his body was pressing hotly against yours as you wiggle and writhe under him, puppy eyes watching him please you from under your lashes while you’re requiring more of his cock in you, please please, you say, your pussy clamping around his girth and milking him for good.

ex! husband neuvillette who tells you, "i love you too, i love you too.." in quick, fast paced syllables, and the burning veins in his body turn numb when you begin to cry out of joy and pleasure, hastily pushing your heels into his back to signal him to fuck you harder as he pounds away into your creamy pussy, dragging his hard erection along your sore walls and burning pleasure spots.

now— your nails simmer over his defined back, both sweetly indulging in each others company and the feeling of being one again, nothing else but solid, fast paced pleasure which was turning him on, so fucking much, his breathing puffed and winded, throwing his head back as you're doing your best to match his insane rhythm.

your pussy swallows him up like magic, your damp lashes tickling his shoulders as he buries his face against your neck to suck on the wet flesh, in accessory to the numerous amount of praises, declarations of love and filthy curses plastering your sweaty skin. or how about the swallowing screams and begs of your name that ripple through him as you moan out fervently, twitching under his towering body and arching your back.

oh, well? it's now or never your “ex” husband fears, and he decides to push his pulsing cock deep into your hole, deeper, just a little bit more, please! until you're desperately screaming into his shoulder, as far as it can fit into your little pussy, sending you over an intoxicating edge.

and ex! husband neuvillette was, at long last, back at where he should be, where he should've been all along, with you, making passionate and meaningful love to each other, because the man needed it, needed you close to him, and he cannot and will never again, paint the world without you in it.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[ghostgirl101]

I just wanna say that I am SO excited for the part 2 to your Paul Destiny fic. I have so many questions and Im excited to see if they get answered. Like if Paul is pledging his love to the reader then is the romance plot with Chani still relevant? Is the reader still the princess here? Very interesting

Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅱ of Ⅱ

|| Word Count: 1.7K || Fluff ||

A/N: Honestly, I didn't think this would blow up so much- 1k+ likes??! Thank you all, it's sick 🙃 in answer to your questions, I didn't really specify if the reader (you) are part of a Great House or the Emperor's daughter, or maybe someone else, that's kind of up to your imagination. And yeah, sorry Chani fans, I kind of kicked her to the curb lmao; This is all about you, and so enjoy the second and final part of this destiny trope before I work on some relationship headcanons for Paul and Feyd-Rautha... Requests are open for Dune 2, so don't be shy 📩

You can't escape fate.

It's as real as the Spice that threads through the grains of sand blanketing Arrakis in heavy, warm golden waves. It twists and turns in the air, in the tides of change, something beyond understanding roping together reality and its lives to bond, whether in love or hate.

At least, with the newly ascended young Emperor, you know which side you're on. Since the day of his declaration and claiming of you as his Empress, you've never once left his sight, unknowingly or not. The boy is almost ridiculously close and observant, as if testing the depths of the events unfolding around him, testing to see whether you'll try to run from them, from him. But you can't run from fate, either.

"You aren't resting."

Paul's soft, low voice slices through the silence of the dusk, the only words you hear before you feel his warm, firm arms slipping under your arms and around your middle, pulling you into his front in a smooth, protective motion. His chocolate brown locks tickle your neck and cheek as he gazes up at you from your shoulder; wandering, curious eyes study yours knowingly, his natural hues tainted blue with the Spice.

"What troubles you?"

You hesitate in your response, unsure of the right thing to say. There's no point in lying, not to him, to a boy who could easily use the power of his Voice to make you tell him everything and anything with just a few words. He's done it to the Bene Gesserit, to those who speak out of turn and challenge him cluelessly, but never to you. And something tells you that he never will.

"I'm sorry," is how you answer instead, in a small whisper, trying to read his expression before his reaction.

But all Paul does is give you one of his soft, amused smirks, a brow raising slightly, unconvinced.

"Don't apologise to anyone for anything," he murmurs, his fingers drifting to lock with yours, his hand hot and strong in yours. "We are to be wed, you and I, soon. So what troubles you?"

"It's not you," you tell him as earnestly as you can, his eyes capturing yours and holding them as you blink up at him. "I'm just... nervous."

"Nervous?" Paul repeats gently, his hands squeezing yours for a moment, his face an inch away from yours. "What have you to be nervous about?" He grins slightly, not attempting to hide his teasing amusement. "A wedding?"

You can't help but smile at his tone, savouring the unguarded moments of the new, young Emperor, his boyish traits lingering beneath the newfound power and promises passed down to him.

You were nervous, because you weren't so familiar with destiny and its quirks, and yet, Paul Atreides seemed to be its master. Nervous, because although there was a strange pull between you and him, a deeper part of you somehow knowing him, at an instinctive ease with him, you had never met him before these past few days, and now, you were going to be joined together for time indefinite by marriage. Nervous, because he didn't just want you to rule with him, but alongside him, as a partner, a second part of him. His second half who's with him in soul, not just spirit, physically, not just mentally. And he's relishing in it.

"I've never had one before," you shake your head with a light smile, "I don't know what to expect. Or what's expected of me."

Paul hums to himself at your reply, pausing for a while as he thinks over his words.

"It isn't just a wedding," he tells you quietly, "it's so much more. This... this a beginning. A new dawn."

"Beginning?" You echo in bemusement, looking up at him in wonder. "Of what?"

"Of a new era," Paul says thoughtfully, his hands moving from yours to run over and down your sides, tracing over your figure absentmindedly, a gesture that makes you hold your breath for a beat as you watch him, "the first of many. You are more than a mere future. You're the future. My future. And the future of my people."

The sincerity and conviction in his voice makes you stare back at him in slight awe, taken by his certainty of what he's seen in the deepest stretches of his mind, the flickering images of you, adorned in all your natural beauty and grace that he could find nothing short of perfect. You were a fantasy and a hope materialised. Someone he'd wished and dreamed for so much, that you came true, just as you should have.

"Anything that happens to you," Paul continues, looking you straight in the eye as he speaks, "happens to me. You have always been mine, and I was yours before then. Absolutely and completely."

And his words make a home in your head, everything he says so poetic and beautifully surreal, but so honest and unwaveringly confident. He didn't need to practise what he said before he whispered the sweet words in your ear, in a voice only you could catch, in the long, warm nights on Arrakis. There was no need for practice. He had been made for this, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

You let yourself relax slightly in his grips, giving him an earnest smile. "That sounds nice."

Paul smiles back at you, a bright, sweet smile that makes him seem so soft and normal, almost forgetting for a moment of his utter strength and glory over the planets, his dangerous darkness that he occasionally allowed to rule over his actions at the tensest of times, until those who stood up against him retreated in bewilderment and fascination and fear.

"It does," he agrees, his gaze dropping to look out at the dunes beyond you, "you can't imagine..."

You couldn't. But every part of you wanted to. And those parts won.

"Won't you tell me?"

Paul's attention shifts back to you after you speak, before you can stop yourself.

"Would it be kind to tell you?" He asks aloud, speaking half to himself as his eyes go to search yours again, studying every inch of you, almost unsettlingly intently.

"Do you dream?" Paul questions you softly, and you dither before shaking your head.

"Not like you do," you answer steadily.

"Like I do. Seeing your face amidst the streaks of sunbeams and every kind of ethereal power that could create wonders, planets, worlds. Waking up, and you're not here, though it felt so real," he goes on, his voice laced with longing, as if it pained him to remember the feeling. "Realer than I've ever felt anything before. Every sense in me was awakened, because with destiny, I saw hope. And I did not know that hope could be so.... beautifully... angelic."

Paul draws closer and closer with each word, pulled by invisible strings to rest his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a long moment to breathe, breathe you in. The sight of it is almost dizzyingly hypnotic, staring at the little scattered freckles over his fair, lightly tanned skin, cheeks flushed golden. He moves his face to rub his cheek against yours, seeking out affection in an irresistible rare, vulnerable move. Your hand reaches up to brush your fingers against it, and he takes it in his immediately, pressing his lips against your fingertips as he speaks.

"I need you," Paul insists, his voice firm and pressing again as he stares at you with a spark of desperation. "I need only you. More than you can comprehend. By my side, always, where you belong."

"I'm right here," you reply a little giddily, looking away from his eyes slightly bashfully from the intensity and unbridled longing of his gaze. "I suppose I'm just not used to this."

"To what?" Paul questions, his fingers tilting your chin up softly to force your eyes back up to his, his face a little closer than before. "To being an Empress?"

Before you can respond, he's pushed himself closer over you, his warm, damp lips sliding and pressing against yours and parting to encourage you to deepen his affections. It sends hot shockwaves rushing straight through your blood, as Paul crouches over you, all patience and purpose forgotten in the moment where it's just the two of you in the calm, lingering desert night.

You fit together perfectly, too perfectly for his words to be untrue, and his head tilts keenly where your fingers skim his neck, his lips parting from yours as they tangle in his hair with a short gasp. He loses none of his confidence and persistence, his azure blue eyes a shade darker as he watches you with an open trace of adoration.

"A queen?"

"Paul," you start shakily, as he smirks at you fondly, his head ducking to trace his tongue briefly up the skin of your neck, with a faint chuckle.

"To being desired?"

You glare at him weakly, hanging onto his hands tight to find some sense of grounding. "You're just playing with me."

"I intend to do so much more than that," Paul grins at you, kissing your cheek before burying his face against your shoulder. "And so should you. Test the depths of our connection. Push it to its limits. Push me. Please."

You find yourself speechless again at his way with words, simple and truthful, but full of passion and unthought romance, a sensation he's been craving since the first shadows of your being in his hazy dreams and visions.

"Give into your destiny, sweet girl," he croons to you in a whisper, his lips brushing against yours and pressing down against your skin needily, hungrily. It takes almost inhumane strength not to crumble and shiver under his touch and desire radiating off him and his dark glare, the wanting over years of dreams and prophecies building up to its peak. "Give into me."

"I think I will," you whisper back in awe and giddiness, your arms having to hold tightly around his neck to stay upright. "I think I want to."

"That's good," he praises you with a soft smile, as his voice lowers. "And besides," Paul mutters in your ear, nuzzling against your cheek breathlessly, with that subtle, teasing look in his eyes, "I plan on taking you as mine well before the wedding."

══════════════⊹⊱≼ fin ≽⊰⊹══════════════

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to this for my future Dune fanfics): @minaxcarter @milaeth @ennycutie @weird0o0 @aoi-targaryen @jindongdongie

[sodomit]

TRANSUNITY

Transunity is a political theory that was actively talked about on Tumblr a couple of years ago, but has since fallen out of the public spotlight. And this is unfortunate, because it could have really improved a lot of the discourse around gender.

There exists a blog under that name ( @transunity ), but it has been inactive for a year. I am not affiliated with that blog anyhow, I never had any personal contacts with its mods, but I want to get their general ideas to circulate again, so I'm trying to bring this back up in a semi organized fashion. My take on transunity is just my take, if you're one of the original coiners, and you disagree, I encourage you to talk about it, because we still have much more in common with each other than different.

GENERAL VIEWS

I believe that one of the fundamental ideas more trans people need to understand is that we're all more or less in the same place in the eyes of the society (when other factors, such as ethnicity or disability, are considered). To be trans is to fail the gender role system, from the point of view of cis people we can no longer be proper men or women. All kinds of trans people regardless of identity are affected by misogyny and misandry (not a type of marginalization by itself, but turns into a vector of oppression when overlapping with a different marginalization), which forms the foundation of transmisogyny, transandrophobia, and exorsexism*. These types of bigotry are not exclusive and unique to specific gender identities either and may be applied to any trans person for as long as it's convenient to the oppressor.

Trans people do not have gendered power over each other, and intra community bigotry is better conceptualized as a form of lateral aggression.

Gender assignment and sex are never strictly binary (especially with inclusion of intersex people, who belong in gender conversations even if they don't identify as trans) and need to be understood as much more fluid and not strictly correlating with one's actual position in life.

WHAT WE NEED TO REDUCE

The following things should be discussed more critically:

- "Powerjacketing" - implying someone has gendered privilege as a means of delegitimizing their words, while in reality they do not have this privilege;

- Malgendering - forcing trans people to choose between being gendered correctly and speaking up about their mistreatment (e.g. questioning trans women's womanhood on the basis of them aggressively defending themselves or trans men's manhood on the basis of them asking for help) or implying there's something wrong with them in a way that reinforces gender stereotypes;

- Assuming that some trans people are exempt from some forms of oppression on the basis of gender assignment/sex (e.g. by calling all trans people who were assigned female "tme"** or claiming trans people who were assigned male are inherently incapable of understanding fear of sexual assault);

- Assuming that oppression of trans people is rooted in gender assignment/sex (such as, calling reproductive oppression "sex based oppression"***);

- Gatekeeping certain identities, such as "transmasc", "transbian", "femboy" as exclusive to any gender assignment/sex;

- Creating a duality out of "transsexual" and "cissexual", where not medically transitioning trans people are assumed to have some kind of a gendered privilege, or to not be trans in any meaningful material way. Various transmed ideas about dysphoria and transition go there too;

- Accusing trans people who take inspiration from each other of appropriation (trans headcanons, kinks, drag culture, etc).

SYMBOL

The following image is the official transunity symbol developed by the original transunity bloggers. Sorry about the glitch effect, I wasn't able to find one without it.

* Transmisogyny, transandrophobia, and exorsexism are not exclusive to specific identities, although they do primarily target traits associated with these identities. They can be conceptualized as bigotry and oppression towards people who are recognized as incorrectly entering respectively womanhood, manhood, and a status beyond gender binary (for the latter no normative form exists****). However, it's not wrong to use them to mean "oppression of trans women" and so forth, for as long as you're not claiming it's exclusive.

** Labels like "tma" and "tme" still may be used, but solely in a self assigned manner. I believe that an individual trans person is capable of evaluating whether they're affected by transmisogyny and in what way, and they should be trusted on this. However, no gender assignment and no current gender identity makes anyone inherently tme.

*** "Sex based oppression" instead of "reproductive oppression" reinforces the idea that people who share a specific body part (e.g. an uterus in context of conversations about abortion) are inherently of the same sex. This type of essentialism is desperately needed by terfs in this discussion, as they're trying to sell the ideas of "sex based oppression" and "sex based privilege" to people they want to recruit in their ideology. Invoking the idea of "sex" as something trans men and some nonbinary people are oppressed through is not the correct way to respond to people who say we don't experience any gendered violence besides "just transphobia", it has shitty implications and helps shitty people.

**** Lack of existence of normative nonbinary gender does not mean that these genders are not recognized by the society as a deviant, marginalized identity, and that binary people cannot be pushed into this zone.

[preposterousjams]

My opinion on the Latino Jason Todd headcanon

While I do understand ppl's criticism of the latino Jason todd headcanon and how its kind of racist to make the kid with parents with drug problems as the latino one, to me its more of a reclamation BECAUSE of DC's racism.

Read any 80s/90s batman issue that covers gang violence and drugs, most if not ALL of the criminals are poc; black people and latinos visibly make up the majority in the poorer neighbourhoods in Gotham. Aside from the caricaturist way they r drawn/speak, its not THAT weird cause its a reflection of irl big cities where immigrants and marginalised ppl are often forced to live in such situations, (like most of my dominican family lives in the bronx... it aint racist to say dominicans tend to flock there), BUT...the weird part is when the second a sympathetic character comes from that area, he's white and has a name thats "too fancy for the streets".

Obviously, Jason was created to look like the old robin, so I can't say that the whole "diamond in the rough" situation was purposely a tad bit racist, but its still a lil weird (especially with bruce's comment).

If Jason were a part of the overwhelming demographic in his area, the good-kid-in-a-bad-area trope has less connotations. DC is currently trying to fix this trope is by making crime alley whiter, which isn't bad but they could've just yk... humanised the non-white residents.

I also feel like the messed up way Jason was treated post-death is what makes him so relatable to latino readers. His tragic story of dying while trying to save his only living relative is turned into a lesson for newer vigilantes. Jason's particular disdain for abusers on a few occasions was twisted (by both writers and characters) into him always being dumb, reckless, cocky, angry and disobedient, always violent, never having been able to get over his upbringing. None of those things were true (he was a normal level of reckless and cocky like every other robin, not more), but its an easier narrative to digest compared to how it was in reality; a kid who worked so hard and loved even harder, died to save a woman who couldn't care less about his existence. He was an emotional AND smart kid who wanted so bad to help others get better but was remembered as too emotional (in a bad way).

THIS is the reality for many latino diasporas in day to day life; Theres no question that Latino culture is passionate and emotive, but people from other cultures assume that it is followed by instead of logical. both can coexist. emotion does not mean u have no logic. Emotions can be irrational but they aren't inherently that way, and I wouldn't say that the moments where Jason lashed out as a teenager were irrational (in og runs, not rewrites post red hood), they were mostly done to protect someone (going crazy on abusers, disobeying batman to save sheila, that time he got into a fight at school to defend his friend).

A lot of euro-centric culture is OBSESSED with the idea that rationality is separate from feelings and emotions, but not crying at a funeral doesn't mean you're better than those who do. Emotions are the basis of human ethics and morals, they define the way we interact as a collective and ignoring them does not mean they are not there. Theres no winner to a contest of who can feel the less. And the way Jason's emotions are treated (pre-rh, hes definitely unhinged afterwards lol) is so in line with how white culture tends to punish those who aren't ashamed to feel.

I TOTES UNDERSTAND that some ppl who headcanon Jason as latino are doing it for the complete opposite of reasons, like "oh here some angry emotional guy with druggie parents, haha must be latino". Its weird. I dont like it. And its only brought up so he can swear in spanish in some rlly bad text post where his emotions are getting out. But to me there's so much potential for metanarrative and commentary on how latinos are treated in media that can be exemplified through the way his character is treated. Being latino would add SO MUCH DEPTH to his character and his dynamic with the others.

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

1.) Height comparisons? Tallest to shortest? I ways felt that Danny was tallest with Randy as the shortest, but Ben feels small too? And Rex feels giant.

2.) What would Jenny and Rex look like with Upgrade on them?If you have any concepts of them?

I love these little guys, btw they make me so happy!

1.) I actually have a height chart I never posted! I am STILL not completely locked in about them, but I've been holding onto it for a year, so I think I can post it since Ive not worked on it much. xD So while small details might vary in any future plot development, this is a rough height comparison for the HoMies:

My reasonings are that canonically (? at least according to Wikias) Jenny is at least 2 meters tall in the show. Which is a lil questionable, but I just headcanon her around that height, but it can vary depending on her transformations. In any case she is a tall Amazonian Mechanical Goddess.

Both Danny and Zak have very tall genes from both sides of their families. Jack F. is a freaking tank unit of a man, and while Maddie is probably somewhere above average height, her sister Alicia is built af, so there are some tall genes on their side of the family. Doc and Drew are both pretty tall, and Doyle too, so chances of Zak being on a taller side are very good.

Jun canonically has very long legs (which was mentioned as too long for an 11 y.o. to which I relate a lot, because I was very tall at 11 too xD) & Randy is a very noodly boy, so I feel like they will grow pretty tall. But Randy is also very slight in built which will make him seem smaller.

Ben in his alt futures is supposedly very tall, but Omniverse throws a curve with him suddenly seeming smaller at 16, so?? I kinda settled on him being kinda average male height, which can go either way when he gets older.

Rex is kinda opposite, because at 16-17 he is pretty tall, but not overly huge (considering that he is still shorter than Six but only a little taller than Holiday on heels, so he is taller than average female height), but I headcanon him having grown tall very early. So I kind of settled on another average that can go either way as years go.

And yes, he is a little taller and buffer than Ben, because when they swapped jackets in Heroes United, Ben's jacket is tighter on him and that fact is forever my favorite headcanon. xD

Jake and Kim are short monarchs! Well, compared to others, lol xD. In reality they are only a few inches/cm lower than average heights! I am a big fan of Jake being a short powerhouse (its also supported by his genetics, mainly by his grandfather Lao Shi, who is pretty short even when he was younger) in his human form, which doesn't affect his dragon form. Kim is a small lean power machine - she is small, agile and fast, for a normal human.

2.) Oh! I did have another idea I sort of toyed with (A sort of 'fusions' for HoMies for another old ask I got, but I never got around to drawing them lol sorry), but I never actually drew anything like that! This is a fun idea to doodle-

After the finale Rex has changed and I would like to think that Ben will notice! After all becoming a god temporarily would be something of an upgrade! xD And tbh I think Jenny, as a sentient machine would not particularly enjoy being Upgraded! It would feel a little bit like possession, but with a side effect of your guts being rearranged without your consent, like?? yikes

Aaaaaa, thank you!!! I'm so glad people get joy from this crossover, even if im so inconsistent with actually posting staff for it QvQ <3

[always-just-down-the-street]

A Theory In Light of The Reality of The Situation Regarding OJ and Taco

As is tradition for the last few posts, MAJOR INANIMATE INSANITY SPOILERS! Not just II S2 16 this time, though that DOES play into the major crux.

So I had a big think and I made a big theory.

Something that kinda stood out to me in seeing the reactions to II S2 16 is how much OJ's narcissism is brought up- the hats, the titling of it being HOJP instead of HOP, keeping himself the focus and stuff like that, to the point where his choice of what to do after he won was to make a hotel called Hotel OJ.

But then I thought about how...he won and more importantly, Taco lost. And then this line came to mind:

And the phrase "I was built to win!", after the revelations of II S2 16, takes on such a different meaning now. Obviously this was pre-the decision of the plot twist so consider this half theory, half headcanon, but something that stuck out to me is that the twist only kicks in after Taco loses. After Taco loses...because of Bow, who was always a wild card in the grand scheme of things.

...What if Taco was supposed to win S1, but Bow ruined it?

Now I kinda brushed this off when I had this yesterday but then I saw that image in a tweet and more importantly...this response.

And now I'm thinking there might actually be something to this.

Now, originally I believed that the paths that Taco and OJ ended up taking were their programming trying to correct itself and rapidly getting everything messed up. OJ's narcissism and pride are shoved into the facade of a winner, a natural leader, while Taco's entire character is rewritten to justify her losing- villains don't win, so she much be a villain for her to suddenly lose like that when she so clearly had it in the bag!

...Originally being the keyword. Because while I think this is still true to a certain degree, a different question reared its head into my brain and has not left.

What if OJ was supposed to turn villain when he lost?

It would fit the narrative- selfish, prideful person loses everything at the last step and turns villainous to take what is "rightfully his". But then Bow messed everything up, and now Taco, who lost instead, must take on the twist villain role.

When I first told this theory to a friend, they pointed out that that means instead of Taco playing Pickle, OJ was probably going to turn out to be playing Paper the whole time. But the story had to correct itself, and thus...

The bottom line is essentially that Taco and OJ are, to some degree...broken.

(No I will not apologize for this theory.)

[zablife]

Save me Darlin'

Benny Cross x female reader

Benny Cross Masterlist

A/N: Bc this seemed to be a fave line from my headcanons about Benny, it gets its own imagine. "Did you pray for me every night like a good girl? On your hands and knees? Let me see."

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, blow job, corruption

"Fix your damn jacket," Johnny grumbled, turning to give Benny a scowl as the young man flicked his cigarette butt onto your father's perfectly manicured lawn.

"Jesus Christ we're trying to get these people to change their mind about us," Johnny huffed, climbing the steps to greet your father with a firm handshake.

Benny ducked his head to hide the smirk on his lips as he mumbled under his breath, "Well they really ain't gonna trust us now." Johnny was an unknowing accomplice in his plan to get close to you, a diversion to gain access to the prettiest little thing he'd ever seen.

Normally he wouldn't need to meet anyone's daddy, let alone pretend to care what they thought about him, but you were different. A carefully guarded princess in a tower, he might never have known you existed if Betty hadn’t dragged him to that church picnic last month.

Sometimes he wondered if he might be better off never to have met you though. As it was, most nights he lay awake replaying every minute you'd spent together, jerking off to the memories he’d carefully stored. Your innocent doe eyes staring up at him as you passed him a glass of lemonade, biting your lip just so. Or the way you absently twirled your necklace between delicate fingertips, running the tiny gold cross over your tongue before dropping it into the front of your sundress. And, God, the way your chest rose and fell as he showed you his motorcycle, soft voice promising so earnestly, "I'll pray for ya every night, Benny."

You entered his mind at the most inopportune times, stealing his concentration. He was a man obsessed, in need of one more glimpse of you. Even at this very moment as your father stared at him with disapproval, he knew he'd risk everything to make that a reality. If only he could get out of this living room and find you.

"I asked you a question, son," your father's voice boomed suddenly, pulling Benny from his scheming.

Blinking helplessly, Benny looked to Johnny who came to his aid. "Few odd jobs, nothing regular, but he ain't been here long."

Your father pursed his lips as he replied, "Spose that's why you have so much free time to ride those death machines."

"They're safer than they look," Johnny assured, clearing his throat and wishing Benny would say or do something other than stare down the hallway.

Luckily your mother came into the room with refreshments, breaking the tension as she began to ask questions about Betty and the children. It seemed to lighten the mood momentarily and Benny took it as his opportunity to escape, asking for the bathroom.

As soon as he turned the corner away from prying eyes, he heard a gentle humming and his heart began to thunder in his chest. Walking as carefully as possible on the rickety floorboards, he willed his heavy boots not to make a sound as he approached the crack in your door. Face bathed in the sliver of light emanating from a tiny lamp at your bedside, he watched in hushed awe as you tied pink, satin ribbons in your hair. Lace nightie inching higher with each raise of your elbow, the thin material slowly grazed along your upper thighs, making him sigh appreciatively.

He could have sworn he saw a hint of a smile winking back at him in the mirror as you reached for your lotion and a familiar heat began to rise in his abdomen. In a moment of courage, he slipped inside your room. Closing the door behind himself with a soft thud, he placed a finger to his lips with a look of mischievous delight.

The sight was utterly contagious, making you clasp a hand to your mouth to stifle the giggle ready to erupt from your lips. However, the sound of your father's voice a few rooms over soon impressed the seriousness of the situation upon you.

Rushing at Benny with palms splayed on his chest to move him back across the threshold, you whispered frantically, "We can't...you have to go."

"You want me to go?" came Benny's breathless response, hoping this wouldn't be the way things ended.

As you lost yourself in the ocean's of his eyes, you gulped, shaking your head pathetically.

"Then let me stay," he begged, giving his best puppy dog eyes. You tried to look away, but he hooked your chin with his fingers holding your gaze in a smoldering stare. He watched as your resolve crumbled before him, a small smile playing on his lips as he asked, "Did you pray for me every night like a good girl?"

You nodded as best you could in his firm grasp, only a whimper of agreement as your reply.

His cock stirred at your admission, the idea that you'd thought of him at night enough to rouse his deepest desires. The world fell away as he tugged you into his body, hands roving your hips and lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, "Yeah? On your hands and knees? Let me see."

Benny could tell by the way your breasts crushed against his chest that you were breathing hard, unaccustomed to someone manhandling you like this. You tapped his elbow for him to relinquish his hold and for a moment his heart stopped, worried he'd pushed you too far. As he surveyed the crucifix on your wall and the sweet confection of a dress you'd laid out for Sunday service in the morning, he reminded himself you weren't the kind of girl who did these things....even knew about them.

Then something miraculous happened. You sunk to your knees in the plush carpet, hands trailing along his muscular thighs reverently before coming to rest inches from his crotch. As you sat back on your heels you looked up at him, eyes glistening and plump lips parted. He might have hallucinated the next part, but the golden glow over the crown of your head looked damn near like a halo in the dim light. You offering yourself to him like an angel in one of his dreams.

Benny wasn't a religious man by any stretch of the imagination, but if he was he'd swear God sent you straight to him. He was certain the warmth of your smile and the softness of your touch was all he'd ever need to feel complete. Now he understood why you had to be kept under lock and key. A person like you was too precious to be defiled and his conscience began to gnaw at him the longer he stared, thumb stroking your bottom lip tenderly.

But the sinner that wanted every part of you was winning the battle inside him and soon his own desire overtook him. He moved his hand to tangle in your hair and took hold of your silky ribbons like a set of reins, guiding you closer in silent demand. Widening his stance to accommodate you, he urged, "Go on, baby."

And you answered the plea, tethered to his side dutifully. You nuzzled against his bulge, feeling the effect you had on him. In a word it was intoxicating and you needed more. Undoing his zip you gasped at the sight of him, knowing instantly you'd take the risk of being caught if it meant touching him, holding him...feeling the weight of him on your tongue.

The growls you pulled from him were devilish even as your delicate fingers and mouth tried to calm the beast inside him. He was a man possessed, but you did your best to keep pace with the ravenous desire of his hips pushing into you, causing saliva to run down your chin and past your knuckles. With every gag, he seemed to clutch your shoulder tighter, sigh a little deeper and it spurred you on until you heard him instruct you in a shaky voice, "Have to... swallow it all now, darlin'... okay?"

Your mind raced as you tried to recall what your friends had told you about this, but you didn't have time as he spilled into your waiting mouth. The bitter tang coated your tongue with his grateful pants echoing over your head. As you swallowed everything he had to give, you felt him stroke your cheek adoringly. "Angel, I think I love you," he exhaled on a low breath, raising you to your feet for a passionate kiss.

There was little time to bask in the afterglow, however. The din in the lounge had grown, indicating some kind of argument and he quickly stuffed himself back into his jeans.

“I don't think you can stay," you mumbled sorrowfully against his lips.

"S'okay, nothin’s gonna keep us apart," he assured you, that wicked grin returning.

"You promise?" you asked, tears gathering at your lashline in fear he'd never return.

"Always keep my promises, angel. Keep prayin' for me now," he winked, glancing down at your dimpled, reddened knees before exiting out your bedroom door.

[crystallinestars]

How they choose an engagement ring for you

Short little headcanons (scenarios?) about how the boys go about picking the perfect engagement ring for you.

Features: Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Zhongli, Ayato, Itto, Kaveh, and Alhaitham. Reader's gender isn't mentioned, but Ayato's part implies fem!reader.

🦉Diluc – The more time Diluc spent with you, his lover, the more sure he was that you are the one. He knows he wants to spend he rest of his life with you, and so he decides to ask you to marry him. But first, he must find the perfect engagement ring to convey his sincere feelings for you. The Ragnvindr family is of noble origins, and Diluc is no stranger to expensive and beautiful jewelry. He decides to have your ring custom-made to ensure it encompasses all your favorite design elements. Diluc wants it to appeal to your tastes as much as possible because he wants you to like it, and he’s more than willing to spend extra mora to achieve this. The engagement ring will look beautiful and feature a garnet as the centerpiece—specially requested by Diluc. Garnet symbolizes unconditional love and protection for one’s partner, and Diluc swears to love you unconditionally and keep you safe for as long as he lives, even if he doesn’t say it aloud. He takes a more traditional approach in asking you to marry him, first wining and dining you before taking you out to a scenic place. He’ll get down on one knee and show you the ring, finally asking the question. It will be one of the few moments in his life where he will bare his heart to you and leave himself vulnerable.

🦚Kaeya – He never thought he’d find someone he’d want to marry, but here he is, browsing through Marjorie’s selection of engagement rings out of drunken impulse. He imagines how each ring would look on your hand, taking into account whether you would like the style and color because he knows your preferences down to a science. Kaeya tells himself this isn’t that serious, it’s just a fun little ‘what-if’, but he sees the perfect ring he knows will look stunning on your hand, and the same drunken impulse makes him buy it. Kaeya considers returning the ring when he sobers up the following day, but something stops him. He keeps telling himself he’ll do it later, but that later never comes. Days turn to weeks, and week into months, and that ring still sits in its box in his pocket. He’s joked about marrying you plenty of times before as a form of flirting, but asking the real thing feels impossible to Kaeya. It’s not until you find the ring by pure accident and piece things together yourself that the impossible turns to reality. Kaeya will play it cool and try to make light of the situation, but internally he will be a nervous wreck. If you accept, he’ll be over the moon, but if you reject him, he’ll be crushed.

🐋Childe – Nothing is too expensive for Childe to afford, especially if it’s a gift for you. While picking out an engagement ring for you, he will focus more on the look and style of the accessory rather than the price. His main concern is finding something he thinks you will like and will look good on you; he’s literally not concerned about the price at all. Childe buys you a ring with a large gemstone in your favorite color and an engraving on the band about his undying love for you. The Harbinger loves spoiling you by giving you gifts since it’s one of his love languages, and to him, nothing speaks louder than an engagement ring of the highest quality money can afford. Plus, an extravagant and expensive-looking ring will clearly indicate to other men that you are taken and provided for. It’s both a show of love and a means to stake his claim. He’ll wine and dine you before posing the question and pulling out the ring. Childe will be visibly excited because he really wants to take your relationship to the next stage—he knows he wants a future with you, and he hopes you do too.

🔶Zhongli – Another man that’s not concerned about the price when purchasing you the ring (Hu Tao will chew him out for putting the bill on Wangsheng Funeral Parlor’s tab again). Zhongli has a very discerning eye when it comes to minerals and craftsmanship. He carefully appraises every ring on display, studying the quality of the metal in the band, the cut and polish of the gemstone, and the skillfulness of the craftsmanship. He will easily spot any flaws in the ring’s design or any fakes that a sneaky merchant might try to sell, so rest assured that you will receive a ring made of only top quality materials. He takes his time in selecting the perfect ring. His love for you is pure and true, and he wants the ring to reflect that. Anything less than the best won’t convey his feelings for you properly, or so he thinks. He’ll take you out for dinner first and then on a nice stroll around Liyue Harbor before asking the question and pulling out the ring, being very charming and polite as he does. He’s very calm about the whole thing, but will hide his disappointment if you say no.

🧋Ayato – After the passing of his parents, Ayato kept their wedding and engagement rings as a memento of sorts. The rings symbolized the loving bond between his parents, and he wanted to remember that. When Ayato developed a deep, intimate bond of his own with you, the thought of marrying you crossed his mind. He knew he could easily afford a high-quality, expensive engagement ring since he was the head of the Kamisato Clan, but he ended up choosing to give you his mother’s engagement ring. The passion and love that his father harbored when giving the ring to his mother are the same feelings Ayato feels towards you. In his mind, this engagement ring is the perfect physical representation of those feelings, and also a good way to welcome you into the Kamisato family. He would be slightly nervous about asking you to marry him, but he would hide his nervousness well. He truly wants to form a family with you, but he’s aware being the spouse to the Kamisato Clan head will come with it’s fair share of responsibilities, and he will understand if you choose to reject him. But if you accept, then Ayato hopes to use his parents’ old wedding rings during your marriage ceremony too.

🐂Itto – It is well known that Itto barely has a single mora to his name. The man can barely afford to buy food much less an engagement ring. Itto thought about giving you a cheap imitation of one, or crafting one out of flowers because it’s the thought that counts, right? But after some thought, he decides that no, he wants to get you a proper ring to show you how serious he is about wanting to marry you. With his mind made up, Itto will work hard to earn money by taking on various odd jobs. He can’t hold down a single job for long, but for the sake of your ring, he tries. It takes the oni a long time to scrounge up the necessary money because he will turn down any help from his gang members. He wants to obtain the ring through his own effort and nobody else’s. Itto won’t be able to afford a fancy ring with the money he saves up, so expect it to look simple but tasteful (thank Shinobu later for helping Itto choose a nice ring for you and avoid getting scammed). His proposal will be public and flashy, but he’d be really nervous about asking you to marry him, even dropping the ring and almost losing it because of his nerves, but rest assured you will receive it.

🍷Kaveh – The architect is very picky when it comes to choosing you gifts, more so this time since it’s an engagement ring to you from him. Kaveh went to a local jeweler to look at their selection of engagement rings, but he wasn’t satisfied with anything they had. This ring’s jewel is the wrong size, that ring’s metal is the wrong shade, and this one’s design isn’t pretty enough for your likeness. Disappointed, Kaveh decides that he will make you the perfect engagement ring himself. He takes weeks to design it, filling his sketchbooks with sketches of potential designs and crossing off failed attempts before he finally settles on one he thinks will look perfect on your hand. When the time comes to craft it, Kaveh buys only the best quality materials, taking on more commissions to be able to afford them. He works on the ring in his spare time, being careful to ensure every aspect of it looks as perfect as his artistic skills will allow. Once its finally finished, Kaveh feels proud of himself, confident that his ring will be one of the most beautiful pieces of jewelry you will ever see—and it honestly is. Even so, he’s still nervous about actually popping the question and giving it to you. When he finally works up the courage, he will take you out on a super romantic date that’s been planned down to every detail. The only unpredictable part about it will be your response to his proposal.

🎧Alhaitham – He’s not exactly frugal when it comes to buying things he likes or thinks are necessary, but he won’t buy you a super expensive engagement ring. In fact, he will get you a simple silver ring with minimal decoration. Haitham prioritizes function over fashion. He doesn’t see a point in giving you an extravagant and flashy ring that would probably hinder you in your daily activities when a simple ring will serve the exact same purpose and be less bothersome. But just because it doesn’t look extravagant doesn’t mean it’s cheap. Oh no, Haitham makes sure the metal is the real deal and made by a professional craftsman. He understands this would be a big step in your relationship, and he wants the ring to convey the seriousness of his feelings for you. The Scribe also won’t make a fanfare out of gifting it to you, he will simply pose the question during a calm and private moment between the two of you. He won’t show any nervousness or excitement on his face, and will be very understanding if you refuse but a part of him does hope you will agree. Haitham seldom likes to spend his time in the company of others, so for him to want you to be a permanent part of his life speaks volumes to how much he loves you. Not having you be a part of his life would certainly leave a mark on him.

[temis-de-leon]

Shy gn!reader goes to their first date with the Dateables

Characters: Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon and Simeon (x reader, separately)

Masterlist

Part 1 , Part 2 , Demon Brothers version

Romance Anon: Could I request headcanons for Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, and Simeon react to shy gn s/o who asked what he would like to do for their first date because he made them happy by accepting their confession so they want to make him happy?

.

A/N: wrote this while my upstairs neighbors were doing the nasty, so I got a little distracted

.

Diavolo

He feels somewhat conflicted, to say the least. Growing up having everything his way, you could believe this would be easy for him, but you would be wrong. On the contrary, it’s precisely for that reason that he doesn’t want to be the only one organizing the date.

Still, you asked him directly, so he’ll humour you.

He asks Lucifer and Barbatos for ideas and he’s left with even more questions.

He could go big, book Ristorante Six so it’s just the two of you and hire a string quartet to set the mood; or he could literally go home, as they say, ask his butler to cook a special dinner and make the garden look pretty.

There’s also the possibility of going downtown, share some ice cream and take a stroll in the park or the busy avenue.

His indecision doesn’t come from a lack of interest, but rather from cluelessness.

Should he do all of that? Should he make another plan? Something more extravagant? Something tamer?

He’s completely lost. You made him happy when you agreed to go out with him as well, so there’s no need for letting him decide everything, especially for your first date.

He wants to be with you, talk to you, have your whole attention and let you have his as well, so, in the end, he settles for the most private option.

Hopefully, you both will have time for more.

Barbatos

There’s a contradiction in your interests.

He’s immensely glad you’re happy upon going out with him, but what he wants the most is to know you more than anyone else has ever done before.

Therefore, his idea of a perfect first date is to know what’s your ideal first date and to make that a reality.

Do you like big gestures? He can take you to the opera or to a luxurious dinner, maybe even both.

Or perhaps you prefer a more intimate setting, which would be most preferable.

He excels in tea parties after all, something the both of you know, and he can use the opportunity to try new recipes and impress you. Maybe even use the tea blend he prepared just for you, a part of his efforts he deeply hopes you like.

Barbatos is perfectly aware that serving his date as a first date may not seem like something one may do for his own enjoyment, even when you were the one to ask him what to do for your day out together, but you have to understand, MC.

In his eyes, the best path towards your happiness is the one where he is the cause of it.

Solomon

At first he thinks of cooking something for you, maybe ask Luke to bake dessert beforehand, and have dinner at Purgatory Hall, but his roommates’ immediate refusal confuses him.

He just wants to impress you!

But, hey, if his friends insist on changing plans... There’s plenty of other things to do anyways.

Why not get out of the Devildom for starters? A change of scenery sounds like a good idea and it’s not like you’re going to be away for too long. Plus, you can forget the brothers for once and he gets the opportunity of having your sole attention for a whole day.

It’s a win-win situation.

You’re going to be a human couple spending time in the human realm doing human things.

And what’s more human than the sun? The warmth, the light… He could take you to a coastal city and sunbathe in the beach or to a small mountain town and walk through its green pastures.

Do you know how to make flower crowns? You could learn with him!

Take advantage of your human curiosity! What better companion than him?

Sure, the brothers and the royals could sweep you off your feet in many different ways, but if there’s something only he can give you is understanding.

You’re going through so much, learning and improving, saying goodbye to the person you once were, he’s the only one capable of comprehend the change in your humanity.

Trust in him to take the weight off your shoulders.

Simeon

He knows exactly what to do.

While he would love to have a traditional date with you, dining in a nice place before going for a stroll and take you home, he knows Luke wouldn’t understand the concept of a date per se.

And as much as he loves the kid, he wants to be just with you for the night.

So, he does just that. He invites you to go out for the night while Luke is sleeping.

There’s a spot in one of the rooftops of RAD and he has visited it enough times to know it’s the perfect place for your date.

He asks Belphie for help and Diavolo for permission, borrowing books and asking simple questions about the sky, the constellations and the legends behind it.

It’s not about studying as much as possible about the stars to impress you, which he’d prefer happening in a more natural setting, but rather having you discover the wonders that surround you with him.

Just the thought of keeping you close, shielding you from the cold of the night and staring at the dark sky with your fingers tightly intertwined with his, sends an involuntary smile to his face.

He wants to spend time with you, it’s as simple as that, but why not make it even more beautiful?

.

.

[cosmicladyy]

Bowser requests you say? Ha who would do that........

Can I please have a bowser x reader who is the opposite of him? He's big, loud, and scary while she's small(human size), quiet, and shy?

bowser x shy!gn!reader headcanons

warning: none

a/n: Thank you for 100+ followers !! I'm glad so many people enjoy my writing, I appreciate all the support <33

He has to be big and loud, his subjects won't take him seriously otherwise

quite literally big, large, and in charge

bowser is the type to not allow any type of disrespect fly

made a joke he doesn't like? dungeon

decided to question his authority? dungeon

he rules his kingdom with an iron fist

has an attitude that matches his tough exterior

when he's with you? it's like he's turned into jello

all his walls immediately come down when he sees you

whenever he speaks to you, he talks in the most gentle tones and never raises his voice at you

he barely uses any strength when he's handling you

since you're really soft-spoken, he'd yell at everyone and everything around him shut up so he can give you his undivided attention

kamek has witnessed his king ripping a Koopa a new one and not even two seconds later he's cooing something at you

he's always aware of his surroundings, doesn't wanna risk accidentally squashing you

date nights are obviously a must for him

if you don't feel like being around other people, he has a feast made for just you and him in the dining room

every dish being either a favorite of yours or something new he knows you'll enjoy

whenever you've had an especially trying day, he'll sit you next to him and play you various songs on his piano

even offers to teach you

limits the number of guards that usually surround him

says he's a king and can defend himself

in reality, he wants you to be as comfortable as possible in your home

whenever you'd be in a conversation with someone, he's always hovering either behind or around you

the literal definition of the 'they asked for no pickles' meme

he'd burn anyone who dares even look at you wrong to a crisp

gets major cuteness aggression

you can be doing nothing, just existing, and he'll have this urge to just squish your cheeks and cradle you in his massive arms

also he uses his height to his advantage and raises whatever you might be using over your head to be annoying

will only give it back in exchange for kisses

"Um, your heinousness?" a nervous kamek stands before the fire breather, who's seated on his throne.

He flinches under the fiery glare that's sent In his direction, "can't you see I'm trying to have a conversation?"

You send an apologetic look from your place on Bowser's lap, having just been telling him about your day, as per his request. You feel him shift and sit up straighter as he tightens the hold he has around your middle.

"I-It's just that.. well.."

"Spit it out already!" his temper simmers just as quickly as it spiked when he receives a smack to the shoulder, not really hurting him, but it sends the message.

"Nevermind!" The magikoopa considers whatever it was a lost cause and poofs himself out of the room with a cloud of pink smoke. "You didn't have to yell at him. Whatever I was talking about isn't that interesting."

A clawed finger finds its way under your chin and carefully turns your head up towards him, connecting his intense gaze with your own. "As if. Now, you were saying?"

[absolutepokemontrash]

Ignore how late I am but I saw the post and I feel the the need to complain about this. A squick I have when it comes to fics and headcanons is when Belphie is completely villainized while the rest of the brothers hate him with their whole being while also depicted as perfect. And while that's annoying on its own, whenever this happens everyone else in the work also gets fucked over.

I specifically mean works where Belphie gets reduced to "the cold and callous villain who killed MC" and that's it. No acknowledging any circumstance around or about why he did it and making being manipulative his entire personality trait. And the rest of the brothers hate him for killing and manipulating MC, which I would understand more if this didn't so frequently come with them acting like they've never even hurt MC before.

The brothers love and protect MC by lesson 16, yeah, but they also almost put MC six feet under on multiple occasions themselves and only just got used to seeing humans as equals. They would be upset with Belphie for killing MC, but they wouldn't hate or never forgive him because they've been brothers long before MC got there and it would be hypocritical.

And this causes the rest of the brothers to act extremely out of character as well. Especially when it comes to why the brothers can't forgive him. Sometimes the brothers will hate Belphie for "killing Lilth" or hurting her descendant which is??? Or they'll treat MC like they're a replacement for Belphie, which is also???? And in these situations, MC acts like they're the antagonist of a replacement AU.

For some reason in works where Belphie's personality or lore gets tossed out of the window, so does everyone else's and both of these are so nerve grating to me. Okay, done complaining.

I have so many thoughts and opinions on Belphie and the fandom’s treatment of him, that I could deadass write a peer reviewed thesis on him…

TLDR: The mischaracterization of Belphie in the fandom is so rampant that I’m convinced some people writing him or complaining about him haven’t played the game.

Just to get this out of the way, Belphie’s character redemption arc suffered due to the 20 lesson limit in season one. His grand evil plan got put into motion in lesson 16, and we had to spend the entirety of lesson 17 (and into lesson 18) turning him into a viable Husbando (tm), therefore, his redemption and development was incredibly rushed.

Onto the good stuff 😈

My take on Obey Me and the brothers as a whole is that while yes, the writers have been woobifying them a whole lot, a LOT of their “toned down” behaviours can literally just be explained by them not having a *reason* to be assholes anymore because MC has done so much work to help them repair their relationships with each other.

I was raised Catholic (decently progressive Catholic, still got the fun guilt though lmao) and the way I was taught to view sin, was that it was an act of violence against someone else, and/or yourself, because there is some kind of deficiency or problem in your own life. It’s that whole “hurt people hurt people” thing, and you can literally SEE it with the brothers.

Lucifer isolates himself and puts on the persona of the tough, scary, intimidating eldest brother when in reality, he’s scared, and guilty, and fucking embarrassed about what happened with Lilith. You can see this when Luke took the Grimoire, Lucifer wasn’t acting out of rage, he was acting out of fear and disguising it, and then lashed out at Luke and MC and only stopped when Diavolo told him to because Dia is literally his boss.

Now what does this have to do with Belphie? Belphie is downright homicidal when the game starts in season one (which is why Luci locked him in the attic, to protect him AND the exchange program), now the question is “why?”

To put what Belphie has been going through in perspective: this guy has been drowning in guilt, trauma, grief, and self loathing for thousands of years. He feels guilty that Beel saved him instead of Lilith, and most importantly, he feels guilty that he led Lilith to the human world to begin with. He’s lashing out because he’s been grieving for thousands of years with no one to turn to about it BECAUSE THE OTHER BROTHERS ARE ALSO STILL GRIEVING

Now of course, this doesn’t excuse what Belphie did to MC, but it does EXPLAIN it. He’s so angry at humanity and himself that he’s the emotional equivalent of a suicide bomber. He’s self destructing and trying to take the people he’s blaming with him and praying that makes the guilt go away.

Finally, when Diavolo and Barbatos reveal Lucifer’s secret about what really happened to Lilith (how she was reincarnated and got to live a happy life as a human), this is the kick that gets ALL the brothers to finally be able to move on. We spent the entirety of season one making pacts and going on silly little adventures with everyone, all the while being the support system they needed to finally move on from their grief.

So THAT is why it makes me so angry when people act like Belphie is uniquely The Worst.

This is coming from someone who doesn’t mind writing the brothers at what I believe to be “their worst” in terms of shitty behaviour (if you want an example, look at how Asmo is currently behaving in A Lovecraftian Exchange Student). But I think characterizing Belphie as some pure evil villain is a massive disservice to him as a character. (Ignoring his survivor’s guilt and grief etc etc)

Also, to act like the other six brothers would immediately hate and despise Belphie over this is so wrong, I’m sorry but it’s grossly wrong. Belphie is their sweet baby brother, yes they love MC, but guys, especially at that point in season one, yes they liked MC, but BELPHIE 👏 IS 👏 THEIR 👏 BABY 👏 BROTHER. I think they’d be disappointed and maybe angry at him, but they’re not going to just up and abandon him, no chance about it.

I’d say the brothers didn’t truly begin to love-love MC until the end of lesson 18-20 after they’ve done some growing as people, but that’s just my interpretation.

Finally.

Y’all.

Did you forget that Belphie literally offered a pact to MC, SPECIFIED THAT IT WASNT BECAUSE OF THEIR CONNECTION TO LILITH BTW, and did this entirely of his own free will because he liked them???

Guys, a pact is offering control of the demon’s entire being! Belphie had grown enough in trusting a human to the point where he was willing to put his life in their hands!

This was so ramble-y and confusing, I’m so sorry- I just have so many thoughts about the brothers and Belphie in particular 😭😭😭

[cruel-seduction]

Bungou Stray Dogs

Fyodor Dostoevsky

Heyy! I hope this isn't a bother, but I'm absolutely craving some Fyodor x Reader! Sooo, imagine this—Fyodor was your husband in a past life, and now he finds you again in Yokohama, working for either the ADA or PM. Obviously, he can't just let his *wife* be with someone else, right? I’d love to see more of that whole 'immortal x mortal' vibe, ahh! And to keep it true to his character, he calls Reader 'Anna' even though they have a new name now. Hope you have a great day/night! 😊

(headcanon, fic, lines, wtv u prefer! I'm just craving for Fyodor ‼️🙏🏻)

Sorry, it took long. But I had test this whole month and I still have to give a test saturday. But I wrote what came in my mind.

The Ghost of His Heart

Content Warnings:

Summary:

In a world where fate binds souls across lifetimes, Fyodor Dostoevsky finds the one he’s been waiting for—his wife from a past life, reborn and unaware of their shared history. Consumed by an eternal love, he is determined to remind her of the connection they once had, while she struggles to reconcile her current reality with the strange pull she feels toward him. As their paths intertwine, emotions run high, and the lines between devotion and destiny blur.

Themes of obsession and possessiveness

Past life/reincarnation dynamics

Emotional intensity and angst

Mild cursing

Subtle manipulation (non-toxic but deeply intense interactions)

GLIMPSE - “Are you crazy?” you whispered, the question slipping out before you could stop it.

His gaze softened further, and for the first time, there was no trace of his usual composure. He looked at you with a vulnerability so raw it made your chest ache.

“For you? Yes,” he said simply. “A thousand times yes.”

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

The air in Yokohama was heavy with a tension that couldn’t quite be named. It wasn’t the usual weight of humidity, nor the pulse of city traffic. No, this was something different—something darker that seemed to thicken the very air the moment you stepped into the room.

Anna.

The name, like a whisper in his mind, cut through the veil of time with the precision of a blade. Even in this new life, with all its contradictions and chaotic intricacies, Fyodor Dostoevsky couldn’t forget you. His wife, his beloved Anna, whom he had lost so many lifetimes ago—yet here you were, returned.

Not as you once were, but as you now were. You didn’t remember him. You didn’t even know him.

He watched you, hidden in the shadows of the ADA headquarters, his obsidian eyes following your every movement. You were here now, part of the Agency, fighting against the very forces he was using to manipulate this world. To control it. You didn’t recognize the mark of your shared past, but he could feel the connection. It burned like a flame beneath his chest, an ache he could never escape.

Anna, though—you didn’t even acknowledge him.

You walked past him without a second glance, busy with your tasks. Your eyes were clear and focused, the same spark of determination he remembered, yet they weren’t directed at him. They were for others, for missions, for this life you were creating, one without him.

It was an ironic, cruel fate: to love someone so deeply and to be utterly forgotten.

He knew why you couldn’t remember. The human mind, fragile as it was, could not withstand the weight of eternity. You had moved on. You had lived without him for however many years it had been since your last meeting in another life. And he had been patient, waiting. It was a sickness in his heart, a poison that burned through his veins every day he was away from you.

But now, with a single glance, you had returned to him. He had only to reach out, to remind you of everything you once were. But that was where the dilemma lay.

If he reminded you, you would resist. Your heart would rebel against the truth he would show you. But that was not the most painful part. No, the most painful part was this: you didn’t want him. You weren’t looking for him. Your heart beat for the tasks before you, for your duty to the Agency, to the people you fought beside. And worse—there were others who saw you, others who thought you belonged to them.

He couldn’t allow that.

You brushed past him once more, and this time, your shoulder brushed against his.

A fleeting, soft contact. He didn’t even need to touch you to feel the surge of energy between you. The electric charge that snapped through his body, a violent, desperate pulse of recognition. His heart tightened painfully in his chest.

And yet, you didn’t pause. You didn’t stop. You didn’t even look up from the stack of papers in your hands, the files you were carrying.

Fyodor inhaled deeply, his expression cold, unreadable. His mind worked furiously, plotting his next move. His next step.

His hand clenched into a fist.

Later that evening, he appeared in the shadows outside your apartment. He was not supposed to be there, not in this life, not in this world where he had to hide his true self beneath layers of deception. But tonight, the need to be close to you was overpowering.

You were in your apartment, oblivious to his presence. You had closed the blinds, preparing for an evening of rest after the chaotic day at the Agency.

But he couldn’t allow you to rest. He couldn’t let you forget.

A soft tap at the door. Just enough to catch your attention, yet gentle enough to be mistaken for the wind. He knew you would come. You always did, no matter how much you resisted, no matter how much you ignored him.

The door creaked open, and there you stood—wearing the soft, loose-fitting clothes you often wore when you thought no one was watching. Your hair was slightly disheveled from the long day. You looked tired. Tired, yet still as breathtaking as ever. The kind of beauty that made him ache.

Your eyes were wary when they met his, cautious. “Can I help you?” you asked, your voice gentle but firm. The same tone you used with the others at the Agency.

His breath caught in his throat. His gaze locked onto yours, and he allowed the silence to stretch between you. He could see the flicker of recognition behind your eyes—only a moment, but it was enough.

“Anna,” he said, his voice low, coated in that familiar, almost musical cadence.

“Who are you?” you demanded, your gaze narrowing. “I don’t know you. You must be mistaken. I am not Anna. So, why don’t you let it go, sir?” You laughed at your own poor joke. 

Fyodor’s lips curled into a thin smile. The mask of calm, collected indifference he wore was in place. But beneath it, something darker simmered. His eyes darkened with a possessive fire.

“I am not mistaken, Anna,” he replied softly. “You may not remember me, but I remember you. I always have.”

His words hung in the air like a noose, tightening slowly around you. You didn’t know what to make of him, this man who claimed to know you so intimately, yet his presence unnerved you. There was something too intense about the way he looked at you, as though he could see through your very soul.

He took a step forward, his gaze unwavering. “You are my Anna,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with an almost unbearable weight. “And I am your Fyodor.”

Your breath hitched at his words, a strange shiver running down your spine. It wasn’t fear—not exactly—but something dark and intense. You took a step back instinctively, not understanding why his presence made your pulse quicken in such an unfamiliar way.

“I don’t know who you think I am,” you said, your voice slightly shaking. “But I’m not... whoever you’re looking for. N O A N N A, sir. My name is Y/N.”

Fyodor tilted his head, his expression one of eerie patience. “No, you are. You are Anna. And no one can take you from me.”

And with that, he stepped closer, the distance between you shrinking as he closed the door behind him, trapping you in the silence of the room. There was nowhere to run now. He knew that—he wanted you to know there was nowhere to go.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you backed away, your eyes widening as you searched his face for any sign of a lie, any hint of his true intentions.

But there was none. Only the cold, implacable certainty of a man who had lived far too long, who had waited far too long, to let you slip away again.

The door clicked softly as it shut behind him, sealing you in the room with a man whose presence seemed to fill every corner, every breath of air. Your pulse quickened, and though you kept your composure, you could feel your resolve wavering under the weight of his gaze.

He stood perfectly still, his tall frame casting an elongated shadow in the dim light of your apartment. The faintest smile played on his lips—not smug, not cruel, but knowing.

“Do not be afraid,” he said softly, his voice like a lullaby laced with moonlight. “I would never harm you.”

“I’m not afraid,” you replied, lifting your chin in defiance, crossing your arms over your chest. “But you need to leave. I don’t know you.”

Fyodor’s eyes flickered with something indescribable, a storm that passed too quickly to be named. He exhaled slowly, his head tilting as if considering your words carefully, as though you’d just told him something patently untrue.

“You may not know me now,” he said, taking a deliberate step forward, “but your soul does.”

Your heart skipped a beat, though you refused to let it show. The strange pull you felt toward him, the way his words resonated in a place you didn’t understand, unsettled you. But you weren’t about to let yourself fall prey to whatever delusion he seemed to believe.

“My name is not Anna,” you said firmly, meeting his gaze. “I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m not her. And what the fuck. Like, what do you mean, ‘my soul knows you?’ No, it doesn’t, and neither does it want to know you, creep.”

For the briefest moment, his eyes darkened, a hint of anger flickering in his violet gaze. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the calm confidence that seemed to radiate from him like an aura.

“You are right,” he murmured. “Anna is not your name now. But names are fleeting, aren’t they? A mortal convention. What matters is what lies beneath—the essence of who you are. That… has not changed. And your soul does know me, baby.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but the words caught in your throat as he stepped closer. He was close enough now that you could see the fine details of his face—the sharp lines, the pale smoothness of his skin, the way his dark hair framed his intense, hauntingly beautiful eyes.

“Stop,” you said, taking a step back, your voice wavering despite your best efforts. “You can’t just show up and decide who I am to you. I have my own life, my own choices.”

“You do,” he agreed, his tone maddeningly calm. “And yet, every choice you’ve made has led you back to me.”

Your eyes narrowed, judging him harshly, every fiber of your being screaming skepticism.

“You don’t remember,” he continued, his voice softening. “But I do. Every moment, every word, every promise we made to each other… it has stayed with me, even as lifetimes have passed. And now, you are here. Do you think that is a coincidence?”

You clenched your fists, willing yourself to punch him in his nose if he uttered one more word. But logic warned you against it; if he was dangerous, that could provoke him. So instead, you tried to reason with him.

“I don’t believe in fate,” you said quietly, though even as you spoke, the words felt hollow.

Fyodor smiled faintly, a bittersweet curve of his lips. “You don’t have to. I believe enough for the both of us.”

The room fell silent, save for the faint hum of the city outside. You could feel the weight of his presence pressing against you—not in a threatening way, but in a way that made your chest tighten with an emotion you couldn’t name.

“Are you crazy?” you whispered, the question slipping out before you could stop it.

His gaze softened further, and for the first time, there was no trace of his usual composure. He looked at you with a vulnerability so raw it made your chest ache.

“For you? Yes,” he said simply. “A thousand times yes.”

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity, and you found yourself unable to meet his gaze. You turned away, crossing your arms over your chest as if to shield yourself from the intensity of his confession.

“I can’t be what you want me to be,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know you, and I can’t be her.”

Fyodor took a step closer, his movements slow and deliberate, as though he were approaching something fragile.

“I don’t expect you to remember,” he said. “And I will not force you to. But that does not change what is true. You are mine, and I am yours. Whether you know it or not, whether you accept it or not, that is the reality of our existence.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine. There was no malice in his tone, no threat—only an unshakable certainty that terrified and intrigued you in equal measure.

“I don’t belong to anyone,” you said firmly, turning back to face him.

He smiled again, a small, almost wistful smile. “No,” he agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. “You are not a possession. You belong only to yourself. But your heart… your soul… they have always been tied to mine.”

The room felt unbearably still. You could hear your own heartbeat, loud and erratic in the silence. Fyodor stood before you, his presence overwhelming yet strangely comforting, like a dark cloud that promised rain but not a storm.

“I will not hurt you,” he said softly, taking another step forward. “I will never hurt you. But I cannot—will not—allow anyone else to take what is mine. You are my light, my salvation, my reason for enduring this endless cycle of time. And now that I’ve found you again, I will not let you slip away.”

His voice cracked slightly at the last word, and the sound tugged at something deep within you. Against your better judgment, you found yourself wanting to believe him, wanting to understand this strange, otherworldly bond he seemed so certain of.

But you couldn’t. You weren’t some helpless girl who let herself be drawn into something she didn’t understand, especially not by a man who seemed carved from shadow.

“Leave,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “Please.”

Fyodor’s expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes shifted. Slowly, he stepped back, his hands falling to his sides in a gesture of reluctant surrender.

“As you wish,” he said, his voice soft and steady. “For now.”

With one last lingering glance, he turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving you alone in the oppressive silence of your apartment.

But even as the door clicked shut, you could still feel his presence, like a ghost lingering at the edges of your mind.

And for the first time, you wondered if he might be right.

[chasthewriter]

Hi. I read your Mr Puzzles x Reader on Ao3. I think it's really cool. Say, what are your headcanons for Mr Puzzles x Reader anyway? Just curiosity speaking.

Oouugghhh!!

Small semi spoilers for whats to come in my fic but i don’t care to share!!

No big title or anything! Just sharing silly little headcanons

His love language is acts of service! He likes to give the one he genuinely cares for items of appreciation, as he never had friends or anyone more in his life before now.

He dreams about you and him having a super nice domestic life, where he can pay for everything because hes famous. He seriously adores you and wants to provide more than he is currently capable of

He’ll tell you he regrets what he did to the crew, but he really dosent (he’ll say it just to see you smile a little)

His favorite part of you is your face, mainly your smile!

His dreams display on his screen if hes in a deep deep sleep

He’ll make scripts for things that involve you both kissing at the end, its all an excuse to have your lips on his screen since he’s absolutely horrible at asking for attention

For someone so menacing he’s honestly a big sweetie with you

Can and will let the world burn for you!

Since ratings arent his main thing now, and its you instead. He’s willing to do just about anything to make sure you dont go away like his 5 stars did previously

Sometimes calls you by “Angel” or “My Savior” because without you he probably wouldve been an abandoned tv in the woods

Normally uses “dear”, “love”, “honey” if hes not in a particularly sappy mood (on serious occasions he’ll actually use your name, and its never because hes mad at you.)

Likes to bring you to his tv dimension inside his head, the zero gravity type deal makes it more easy to grip onto you and just float freely.

Sings to help you sleep

He’ll say your main clothes are trashy, but in reality he just wants you to look all dolled up (like a said, man is a giver)

-Bonus!-

Reader’s outfit!

(i used Gacha but ignore that-)

Anyway if there are anymore questions abt the fic, please ask, i love when people ask abt my works!

[prettypei]

plot: satosugu bf headcanons (seperately); fluff!

reader: gn! Reader

parings: highschool! geto, gojo

warnings:none?? I don’t think so

(a/n): SUGURU ON THE MIND!!!! esp after that new ep gawd damn

✰GOJO

HES SUCH A LOSER BF

like you knew it from the way he asked you out

he planned to ask you out by making a cake that said "date me?" on it

he thought it was romantic

but gojo srsly cant cook

he even though he really likes sweets he cant even fry an egg so the cake turned out something like... imagine the worst cake possible with frosting everywhere and the message on top of the cake is unreadable and the cake is a weird brown color? yeah its like that

you agreed to go out with him anws

if you ever get in a fight hes definitely pullin up to fight with you, no matter how wrong you are

"cats are dogs" "yea they're basically animals so they're the same!"

will ask to copy homework EVERY. SINGLE TIME.

he claims that he trusts you like you grades vould be going downhill and he would still borrow urs

is the type of person to accidentally copy the name too

such a virgin everyone says he's a major f-boy but in reality he has never felt another person touch him romantically

he gives you goofy grins whenever he does sth stupid (and when he does it's mostly bc he wants to see you laugh)

calls you the most ridiculous pet names "sugar bby pookie bear"

also likes referring to you as candies like he called you liquorice one time???

has a habit of applying lip gloss... like A LOT.

"can I kiss u babe" "yeah lemme put on lip gloss rq" *proceedes to spend 10 whole minutes smacking his lips and applying lip gloss*

really big on pda hes suuupperrrr into it, but he'll tone it down if you're uncomfortable

if ur into it tho? he kisses you every two secs

TAKES THE WORST DATING ADVICE EVER FROM THE TRIO

"guys where shld I bring (name) on a date?" "Bring her to a sewer, that way they'll be scared and hug you."-geto "idk a therapist?"-shoko (in the end you were just grossed out, but he somehow makes it sweet and wholesome at the same time?)

✰GETO

he texts you a lot of memes (I'm sure this is widely agreed throughout the fandom lol)

doesn't hug you a lot in public but he does wrap his arm around your shoulder

he wouldn't be reallyyyy affectionate but if you are he'll accept your hugs with a little smile

he likes my melody more than kuromi

his love language is quality time, sometimes you'll spend dates just lounging out on the couch and doing nothing. However, he thinks it's much nicer than just being by himself

really great memory, he notices those small details about you that no one else does, or even the ones you're unaware of like when you always fold a napkin when you're at a restaurant yk hes cute like that

asks the weirdest questions ever: "do you think I'm a squirrel or a chipmunk?" respond with "I think you're an idiot" QUICK!!!

he gets super moody when his hair ties are missing, he has a whole bag of them at his dorm

allows you to give him silly hairstyles when he's sleepin <3

loves truth or dare and 20 questions

has a weird obsession with puzzles and he likes it if he’s piecing one together with you

he also gets competitive without knowing. Like even with you if you guys are at an arcade and you win him at basketball hoops he’s bitter

”let’s do it again I was not ready” “you said that 5 times and I still won” “NO”

he believes in astrology stuff

is more emotionally attracted to people than physically

he may come off as cold but he just doesn’t express as much as gojo

he sometimes paints (mostly watercolor) and a lot of them are of you or are inspired by you <333

MY POOKIE!!! Free my man he did nothing wrong!!!!