#but like yeah please feel confident in engaging with the human experience

[kaurwreck]

Hello! I know a few people have said this already but I think you're a really cool blogger and I love reading your posts on classic lit and bsd (or even better when the two combined).

You have a really cohesive and wonderful way of speaking which drew me to your blog and has me feel more confident in writing more analytical posts myself- Please keep being yourself and enjoy your hobbies and interests.

If anyone starts being awful to you again for things you can't control remember that you don't owe them anything and that you are allowed to block people and look after yourself.

Thank you for being yourself and take care!

Thank you 🥺 It helps to hear, and I've been floored by the affirmation and sweet messages. I'm used to occasionally throwing little kitten hissy fits about the tension I have with fandom to close friends and moving on; this has been a very kind and compassionate change of pace.

Also, there is nothing I want more from my posts than to encourage others to write their own, explore the material, and feel confident in doing so. I started sharing my bsd thoughts outside of DMs because I wanted to see what others thought of the same things. But, mostly, I wanted to add to the wider fandom conversation about bsd's metatext after searching for conversations and finding fewer than I thought made sense for a work this expansive.

This isn't to say everyone has to or should do the same, or that I'm right about the metatext, or that anyone else is wrong. It's just to say that the playground Asagiri, Harukawa, et al. has built for us is so much wider than it seems, and I think so much of the space is underutilized or artificially homogenous.

In other words, I don't care nearly as much about whether you like the sandcastle I'm building, as I care that you know that it's your sandbox too, and neither me nor God nor the other kids on the playground can stop you from doing what you want with that.

[junowritings]

Hi! Can I rqs for a platonic Malleus x Fem!reader imagine please? During their NRC days,reader jokingly asked Malleus to be her maid of honour if she ever got married. Then,years later, on her wedding day, Malleus shows up,fully intending to keep his promise.

Thx!

I AM SO IN LOVE WITH THIS IDEA YOU HAVE NO IDEA. Listen this started off jokey but ended up kinda wholesome like he would be so touched??? and take it so seriously???

Also I'm thinking about the whole Fae living longer than humans but this didn't fit into the drabble so can I just say you can absolutely bet that decades/centuries after your wedding he is telling EVERYONE he meets about his fav child of man and that whole thing bc he'd think the world would be poorer off if he didn't tell everybody about his friend and the happiness they wanted him to play such an important part in.

BUT YEAH I hope you enjoy how this turned out!

=====

“If I ever get married, you’ll be my maid of honor, won’t you, Mal?”

Such a simple request, spoken so boldly from one he considered his true confidant. How could he have ever refused?

To you it was made in jest, on a quiet walk out on your dorm’s grounds as you had done for so many months now. It was easy to fill the silence with idle chatter on the nights where you found Daisomnia’s dorm leader meandering through Ramshackle’s old bones; a comforting routine that had fallen into place merely by being in the right place, at the right time. Often you would coax the odd memory from the fae of his life before Night Raven College; but Malleus was far more interested to learn of your affairs. Of friends, of family, of the many wonderful experiences crammed into such a short existence as your mortal life. 

You had become such an invaluable part of his life, it would be only natural to bask in your every word and commit it to memory, would it not? If only to ensure that not a single memory of his dear friend became lost to the flow of time that followed after you. 

So when you had turned to him, expression alight with a grin that made your eyes sparkle and the corners of your mouth crinkle with well-meant mischief, your question gave Malleus pause. 

To anyone else, your joke would have earned a playful nudge or a flat out refusal. But to Malleus, the man who you so earnestly called your friend even after everything that had transpired since your arrival? 

That small request is bound to his heart, with every intention to see it through simply because you asked. 

The days from that single night trickle into months, and then years. Faces change and friends part ways between that time, though the close bond is never lost.. A blink of an eye for your fae friend, but almost a lifetime for yourself. The moment is lost within the recesses of your fond memories, as you find a life of your own and find a love who makes your heart race and brightens the very world in their wake. Lost, but always lingering somewhere in the peripheral of your mind each time you’d looked down at your hand, now decorated with an engagement ring - a promise for the life to come.

Even as you stand now before your mirror, donned in fine fabrics of beautiful colors that makes your smile shine and your heart feel full you reminisce. It brings a chuckle to your lips, shaking your head at how easily you had joked back then about getting married, only to find yourself now doing what seemed like a distant ‘what if’ scenario just years ago. Your eyes close for a moment, your wedding attire bunched in your hands as the memory flickers briefly through your mind.

And then your eyes open, and suddenly that very memory is standing in the reflection of your mirror.

But it’s not just a reflection. You feel a hand on your shoulder and you know that it’s real as you spin around to face your old friend, face breaking out into that same telltale grin Malleus had seen such a short time ago.

“Malleus!”

The years have changed Malleus so very little, but you see it in his face. His smile is softer at the edges as he regards you with a warmness once shielded behind the result of decades of isolation. It’s a welcome sight, and you’re only pulled away when you spot the envelope in his free hand, your own writing scrawled on the cover. You recognize it immediately, and your heart swells with relief.

He’d received your invitation. He’d actually made it.

There is no hesitation as you throw your arms around the fae’s shoulders, no doubt making a mess of the pristine finery he’s wearing but too elated to care. You can’t resist a joke about how Sebek would have your hide for almost bringing the ruler of Briar Valley crashing down into the bridal suite mirror. The comment is met with a hearty chuckle from Malleus who returns your embrace eagerly, though unlike you he is careful to avoid creasing your clothes; he wouldn’t want it to impede on one of the happiest days of your life, after all.

There are so many things to catch up on. So much time to fill in on every little detail that couldn’t be expressed through letters and calls. But that will have to wait, especially as a knock at the door just moments later brings you back to the present, the wedding planner peeking their head in to ask if you and your maid of honor are ready for the ceremony. Now that gets your attention, and Malleus fails to hide the amusement that glints in his eyes watching your eyes widen, eyebrows raised in surprise as your gaze darts from the planner to your friend. 

He can see the gears turning in your head, piecing together that carefully hidden fragment that Malleus had kept close to his thoughts all of these years. And then he sees that smile again, now wobbly at the corners as your misty eyes blink back the emotions you feel welling up in your chest, and he feels pride in knowing just what his presence here on your wedding day now means to you.

Standing tall, Malleus moves to stand by your side and offers his arm. Today he is not the king of Briar valley. Today, he is your friend, confidant, and the best maid of honor you could have asked for on one of the happiest days of your life.

“Come now, I Believe I made a promise to you, child of man.” he speaks warmly as you hook your arm over his. “I hope you didn’t think I’d forget so soon.”

[foxedthecards]

I think something I find really interesting about Jonas is that he shows negative traits and you can see how they impact him. Jonas has clearly gone through a lot with his family, and he's become a bit passive for it, so he allows a lot to happen to himself. He recognizes what his mother does is an issue and her being terrible and he got away from her into a space where he is independent and not reliant on her in any way, but he still allows her to manipulate him and keeps holding on to the connection despite how miserable it makes him and how far away he is. He allows others to be casual or even harmful to him and seems to seek it out with how frequent it happens. He kind of just accepts this is the way it is, even with friends who show he can have things different, or the capacity to do things differently. He's stuck in his own struggles and self image and doubts too much to see it. And he has addictions, and he self-sabotages.

He's very messy, but in a way all of these things make him very human and understandable. He feels very real, like a person who is dealing with the hand life dealt him in a very humanized way. I enjoy that he's imperfect and flawed and understandable due to his experiences, but he also still has positive traits that make him enjoyable to be around. he has a nice balance that makes it easy to keep engaging, and it'll be nice to see the growth and changes that happen with the positive experiences and being pushed to be more proactive in his own way! It's a difficult balance to strike but I think you're managing it :D

I also think Mr. Fox's confidence and colder nature is a neat juxtaposition to Jonas, and I really enjoy the way he can banter. You have the range haha

((DEAR FRIEND OUGH do you know HOW much I am smooching you on the forehead with such affection??? Honest to God I'm tucking this ask away some where to pull out and look over whenever I start worrying if I'm doing well in writing him. Thank you so so much! He's got so much going on with him, he's such a imperfect and messy little guy but I'm so pleased that it's all coming through in a way that makes him feel real rather than flat or caricatured. It's always been something I've worried about: that I'm writing his flawed parts well enough and striking a good balance there without it tipping too far into making him a boring or uninteresting or static character. So this is such a treasure to hear. And I thank you too, so much for your rp interactions!!!! They've helped me so much with good character development as well!

Mr Fox as we know is flawless snerk and yes I do love how he's proving to be a nice foil of sorts to Jonas's personality. I LOVE writing me some good clever banter and he's a fun one to write it with so fuck yeah thank you for that too, beautiful friend!!! MUAH <3))

[minkmousesworld]

Aaaaa <333 I shall. I'll spam every thought and idea from my brain! No worries, do please take your time to respond <3333 I look forward to your responses and answers to my brainrot! Do please take a nap/sleep uwu I'll be here hehe.

this is just a smol brainrot of like modern Tanjirou and his whole bakery.

*Tanjirou visiting a lil old shrine that is a fox (kitsune) statue. He prays for good luck and success for his business and his family health. (Some [mostly white] kitsunes are symbols of good luck and ward of evil and serve as guardian spirits)

*Next day, Tanjiro is returning back to the bakery and there is a fox! :0 Tanjiro a lil confused, but considering how the fox "mimics" his confused looks. He probably picks up that this fox must be a sign of good luck and protect! Leaves good meals for the Lil fox <3

*Eventually Tanjirou talks about his day, his family, etc to the Lil fox and it feels as if they get closer each day until one day, instead of the fox at front door. It's a person! Yet Tanjiro feels as if he knows them already and at this point he just "yeah, this is someone I wanna spend my life with!" And not like kitsune reader disagrees!

*Kitsune reader loves Tanjirou, they just need proper waiting and understanding what humans do to court <33 and soon breed him- tho kitsune reader will ask themselves if it's possible for humans to be bred-

,,, charming kitsune anon,,,, very charming ,,,,,

Big brain...

Ki-tsune: always come

Fox's fiance

[1000 words]

Tanjirou did not consider himself either religious or non-religious, but still feels the need to come to the old temple and ask the Fox Deity for the blessing of his new life.

Tanjirou, whose family in the past was a family of priests for many centuries, but with the advent of a new era, they began to engage in entrepreneurship like bakeries and pastry shops (bonus points if foxes were used as a mascot or the names of products included a fox theme). And although his great-grandmother was still a priest and visited the old family temple, his father and mother now had a bakery and Tanjirou planned, like them in the past, to open his own and devote his life to creating bakery products.

And he is not exactly religious (or, conversely, non-religious), but he feels that returning to the old temple, where the fox deity was worshipped before, to ask for their blessing, would be the right decision. Even if it is a useless request to no one, when Tanjirou bows his head, asking the deity for luck, he feels better — as if the deity he is asking for help and blessing really saw his request. A few gifts, a little gratitude — but when Tanjirou leaves the temple, he feels more confident.

And even if these are some echoes of the memory of his ancestors about the times when they asked for help from the deity for any undertaking, or just remnants of religious beliefs like most people, — Nezuko knows more about this than he does, — but Tanjirou feels that something wonderful will happen soon. The bakery will definitely be thriving, but looking at the stars out the window, Tanjirou somehow feels that they shine even brighter today, as if drawing someone a path... to him? Could it be that someone who will become a member of his family in the future is now looking at the stars as well, thinking about him?

Even if Nezuko would pinch his cheek for such thoughts, giggling, Tanjirou can't help but feel happy because of the thought that maybe he doesn't think; maybe something else happy will happen besides the bakery. Maybe, just maybe, he'll get lucky somewhere else.

"If the stars are shining, then someone needs it", so... can't he be that 'somebody' He's never had a romantic experience, and he's not even sure who exactly he might like — or who he would get along with best romantically and sexually, but Tanjirou is sure that this is a good person. If his "true love" exists somewhere in the world, then what difference does it make who they are as long as they are good, right?

But after a day nothing happens. And even two days later. And even after a week. The bakery is being opened — it's not the most popular yet, but customers who are uncomfortable driving to the shops or to the first Kamado bakery are happy to shop here. And although it's a little hard to work alone, but Tanjirou is used to hard work and has enough money to allow himself to develop slowly. His parents opened a bakery together, so it was more convenient for them, but Tanjirou does not have the strength and desire to go look for a partner or go on blind dates — or ask friends to look for a good match for him.

But after a month and two days, he meets a beautiful fox from the forest. And although this is not the first time he sees a fox, something about them makes him hold his breath, as if he is bewitched by their very presence. And although they don't run away from him, — on the contrary, they rub against his legs like a big, wild cat — Tanjirou can't help but think that this was probably the exciting event he was waiting for. Meeting with a wild, but so charming fox with the most intelligent eyes he had ever seen in animals... They even let him gently stroke their head, and Tanjirou can't help but admire out loud how gorgeous they are.

Even if it's not a meeting with a person, it's still a great sign that he chose the right path when he left his usual place to find his place. And looking at how cordially they accept his affection and praise, looking at him in a kind, cunning way, he feels like he is overflowing with warmth for the first time in a long time.

So he can't help but bring them some fresh meat.

And day by day, they become his new friend. Maybe it will sound sad for someone, but Tanjirou is rather glad that he has a friend, even if it is a fox, who waits for him every evening in the backyard and sometimes in front of the door. At least, communicating with someone who listens attentively to him, even if it is an unconscious animal, is better than spending days alone or in the company of customers — even if Tanjirou likes to communicate, sometimes anyone just want to find a person to whom you can talk after a working day. At least, even if the fox does not understand him, he is glad to see an intelligent look, as if they not only understand, but also sympathize with him.

“You think so too, Fluffy?”

The fox only puts their muzzle under his hand so that he strokes them.

“Although I knew that the move would be difficult, I did not think that I would miss my native places so much...”

The fox yaps, rubs against his hand, as if trying to comfort him, and Tanjirou feels himself relaxing. Their fur is soft, and for the first time he feels such a strong desire to just lower his head into it, but instead he scratches them between the ears.

“It was amazing to me how you managed to survive with such naive ideas about people... Do you think it's safe to go somewhere just to find some friendly person who will give you food? It's not safe for defenseless creatures like you to be so trusting-”

But the fox only yaps in response, as if giggling, slightly pushes him in the chest and runs away.

Tanjirou remains alone on the grass, looking confusedly towards the forest.

The fox, Fluffy, doesn't come for the next week, and Tanjirou doesn't want to sound pitiful, needy or desperate, but he can't help but wait for them in the backyard until almost late at night. And when the lump of anxiety fits in his stomach again, he can only take a deep breath, looking for at least something resembling his friend.

Maybe it's a little silly to expect a wild fox to come to him again, as if they have become his pet, but the worry that something could happen to them does not leave him. Even a plate of meat in their place remains untouched — neither by other foxes, nor by birds, nor by insects.

And this only increases his anxiety and loneliness even more.

When the first snow comes, more than a month has passed since the last arrival of the fox, and Tanjirou lives in excitement again; even in the morning he seems to get up only to find out if this incomprehensible, but definitely exciting event will happen today. Nezuko would definitely say that "this is a New Year's syndrome, big brother" or something like that, but Tanjirou only warms up more cocoa for customers who haven't come yet. And his hands are shaking with incomprehensible excitement, as if something is about to happen — he even opened earlier than usual, experiencing an irrational fear that this very event will pass him by if he does not try to meet it.

It's still dark outside — early morning, — and sleet is falling; Tanjirou vaguely thinks that Fluffy must be hiding somewhere from the cold right now. He hopes they didn't come because they found a good place to sleep and are now eating some delicious food...

...His thoughts are interrupted only by the quiet ringing of the door bell, announcing the first customer or visitor who needs to warm up; but when he comes out, wiping his flour-stained hands with a rag to greet an early customer at "Ki-tsune's bakery",

he freezes in place instead of greeting.

Maybe it's just his desperation before meeting someone, or he really has already seen you somewhere, but looking at such a familiar unfamiliar face, Tanjirou is relieved for some reason.

It was as if all this: a trip to the temple, and a meeting with the fox, and waiting until late at night, and daily work with clients, and an incomprehensible excitement that stirred his heart — all this was created only for this magical moment.

And for some reason his heart is beating faster and he can't look away.

“I-”

glad you're back.

... It's like a blizzard outside the window trying to hide you from other people's eyes.

[egcdeath]

first impressions

pairing: soft!ransom drysdale x reader 

summary: [request] “hmm prompts... Ransom introducing you (a total opposite of him) to his family for the first time, or a Thrombey wedding! if you feel like it” i like where your brain is at anon! but why not a little bit of both? ;)

word count: 3.7k

warnings: pretty fluffy, some angst, toxic family dynamics

author’s note: this has been super lightly edited so pls forgive any mistakes <3 click here if you’d like to be added to my taglist & all reblogs are super appreciated!

You felt slightly out of place driving through the neighborhood of your youth in the passenger seat of Ransom’s beloved Beamer. Thinking of how your parents would react to your boyfriend, let alone his lifestyle of excess, made your heart rate increase, and you shuffled a bit in your seat unconsciously as a result of your nerves. As if he were reading your thoughts, Ransom set a steady hand on your knee and gave it a tiny reassuring squeeze before parking in front of the curb ahead of your home. 

Nervously exiting the vehicle, you watched wordlessly as Ransom grabbed your overnight bags from the trunk, and hauled them over his shoulders. Still saying nothing, you reached out and grabbed Ransom’s hand, constricting his circulation as you strolled up to your door, and rang your own doorbell.

When your mother whipped open the door and offered you an excited grin, you finally were able to let out the breath that you weren’t even aware you were holding.

“Goose!” your mother cheered, squeezing the life out of you while you snuck a glance at Ransom who seemed rather amused by the childhood pet name. “And who’s this?” she asked, pulling away from you and looking him up and down.

“I’m Ransom, your daughter’s boyfriend,” he announced with confidence, offering your mom friendly smile, before glancing back over at you and raising his brows the slightest bit. 

“Finally putting a face to the name, then. I’ve heard all about you from this one. Come on in,” she gestured for the two of you to enter. “Y/N can show you to her room, and dinner will be ready in about a half hour,” with that, your mother was off, and you were once again alone with Ransom.

You showed him up to your room, where he set down the bags and flopped down onto your bright pink duvet.

“Goose, huh?” he questioned, rolling on the hyperfeminine twin mattress. 

“Shut up,” you mumbled, before sitting down next to the headboard of the bed.

“Do you think she liked me?” Ransom asked, seemingly out of nowhere. “Did you tell her good things about me?”

“Since when do you care about what other people think of you?” you giggled a bit, and planted your fingers in Ransom’s hair. 

“I care because…” he thought for a moment, calculating just how honest he wanted to be. “I care because this is the longest relationship I’ve been in, and I want my future parents-in-law to like me.”

“We’ve been together for like, a year, Ran. But I applaud your commitment to me,” you massaged his scalp as you spoke, and ignored the butterflies floating throughout your torso at his mention of marriage. 

“Well? Do you think she likes me?” he asked once again. 

“Mmm, I like when you care about things,” you pressed a little peck to his forehead, and hovered a bit over his face. “She said like, 20 words to you, max. But after dinner I’m sure they’ll like you. At least I hope they will.”

Ransom playfully swatted at you. “How comforting. Wait, stay right there,” he reached up and held the hand that was massaging his scalp in place. 

——

By the time dinner came around, you seemed to have switched emotions with your partner, as you were feeling much more relaxed, and Ransom on the other hand, was not.

He kept a hand on your knee under the table in what seemed like a grounding technique, squeezing every now and then while your father plated your meals.

“So, how did you two meet?” your father questioned, sitting down beside your mom.

“We met while we were volunteering at the Humane Society together,” you gushed, glancing over at your partner who was nervously sipping his water, then back at your parents. “He always seemed so pissed in the beginning. I mean, the amount of times I saw him growling obscenities while tugging on harnesses, or playing the most unenthusiastic games of fetch I’d ever seen in my life is astounding,” you laughed softly, and looked over at Ransom once again as if you were cueing him to speak.

“Yeah, I really didn’t like it there at first. Not really a dog guy, but my grandad said it was community service or no allowance, and I was not interested in the latter,” he chuckled awkwardly and received confused expressions from your parents, which granted you an SOS squeeze on the knee. 

“Um, anyway, one day we were closing, and I went into the last cat suite, and there grumpy old Ransom was, cuddling with Garfield, you know, the old cat with the three legs, and it was literally the cutest thing I’d ever seen. Especially ‘cause Garfield is so hard to please,'' you paused to take a bite of the food in front of you. “We started talking more after that, then he asked me out, and of course I said yes. I guess the rest is history.”

“Aw, Goose, that’s so cute!” your mom cooed, but the moment didn’t last too long. 

“What do you do for work, Ransom?” Your dad asked, tilting his beer at the man. 

“I’m currently in between jobs. But, uh, I’ve been doing a lot of volunteer work.” 

Your father nodded wordlessly and paused for a second. “Volunteering get you a Beamer?”

“Dad!” You interrupted in a yelp, “please.” You frowned as you looked between the men. 

“Y/N, it’s fine. It’s a good question, but I got it as a gift a few years back. And, you know, my family’s comfortable.”

Before your father could respond, your mom popped in to save the conversation. “No money talk at the table, please. Tell me more about your relationship,” she gave both of you a sympathetic look. 

——

After that, dinner went on without much of a hitch, and you agreed upon doing the dishes with your mother while your father and boyfriend prepared a little fire outside.

“He seems sweet,” she commented after a long period of silence. 

“I’m glad you think so. He was really worried about you not liking him, and honestly, I was too,” you rinsed the last glass before setting it in your dishwasher.

“I just want you to be careful, okay? When you have that much money, people do strange things, or say things they don’t mean and expect you to just take it. He seems like a good boy, but just don’t let your guard completely down. The last breakup you went through-“

“Stop, I get it,” you sighed softly. 

“This doesn’t mean I don’t like him. I just don’t want to see you that hurt again,” she gave your arm a soft squeeze. “Let’s go stop your dad from catching a murder charge,” she beckoned you to follow her out to the backyard, where your boyfriend and dad were… laughing together? If you weren’t so relieved, it’d almost be off-putting. 

The rest of the night went alarmingly well, Ransom finding a way to bond with both of your parents after an awkward first half of the evening. As the two of you crawled into your tiny bed and spooned while drifting off to sleep, Ransom slurred a tired ‘I think they liked me,’ into your ear. 

From that point on, Ransom’s position within your family only became better. For the first time, he was welcomed into a familial environment that wasn’t more toxic than a Chernobyl cooling tower, and Ransom was loving it. After suggesting to spend that year’s Thanksgiving at your parents’ home, spending the holidays with the L/N family became a frequent occurrence for the two of you. 

Though you occasionally wondered why you were four years into a relationship with the man, and still hadn’t met his family, which to your understanding, was rather large, you had better things to concern yourself with. You understood and respected that Ransom’s relationship with his own family wasn't the best, from the little that he shared with you, but occasionally curiosity often got the best of you.

Yet, things seemed to shift after your engagement. In the midst of dress fittings and cake tastings, Ransom had decided that it was finally time for you to meet the rest of the Thrombey clan, and that there was no better time than Harlan’s book release party, which was being celebrated out in California, at the Thrombey Vineyard.

In your years of relationship, you’d become no stranger to luxury, and the finer things in life, but arriving at the Vineyard put you in awe at just how affluent these people were. Perhaps that’s what happens when you’re one of the great writers of your time, and your offspring go off to become equally “self-made” successes.

You were a bit tired from the three hour difference between Boston and Sonoma Valley, and as soon as you hopped out of the car at the vineyard, you could only think of getting to your room, out of your baggy travel clothes, and to sleep as soon as possible. 

Trailing behind Ransom, you looked around at the vast expanse of crop-filled land around you in astonishment while you walked up the cement path to the mansion, not really noticing the petite woman with curled blonde hair, and an oversized straw hat approaching you. 

“Oh gosh, you must be Y/N!” she said gleefully. “I’m Joni. I’ve seen you all over Ranny’s Insta,” she paused and looked you up and down. “Well, you do look a little different there,” she chuckled.

“That’s great, Joni. Maybe you can Tweet about how exhilarating and life changing this experience has been for you to all your little pyramid scheme friends.”

“You’re always so rude, Hugh,” she sneered.

“I forgot about your chronic victimhood. Goodbye, Joan,” he rolled his eyes, and practically tugged you inside the massive building in front of you, before dragging you up the stairs. You were honestly in a little bit of shock at seeing how nasty Ransom got from just a small interaction.

You set your Louis Vuitton Keepal, and aluminum suitcase down on the granite floor of the bedroom, before flopping down, and spreading your limbs out on the massive memory foam bed that sat in the center of the room, “What was that, Ran?” you questioned as he sprawled out next to you.

“The reason why I didn’t want you to meet them. They’re like sharks, looking for anything that even resembles blood in the water,” he threw an arm around you and yawned. “We can talk about this in the morning, though. Right now, I think that both of us need a shower.”

“Speak for yourself, you stink bug.”

“But what if I get lonely in there?” 

“Fine,” you huffed, moving his arm off of you, and heading off to the en-suite. 

That night, as you stared at the blank wall in a vain attempt to quiet your mind enough to fall asleep, you questioned if coming to meet Ransom’s family was more of a mistake than you initially anticipated.

The next morning felt a bit frantic. You and Ransom woke up a few hours before everyone else, as they’d been in California for a few days now and had adjusted to the time difference, while you two had not. An in-house chef made you two a gourmet buffet of a meal while housekeepers laid out your clothes back in your room, and you were feeling a bit overwhelmed by all of the sudden interferences in your life. Though it was nice to not have to do all of the work, you weren’t sure how you felt about other people doing it for you. 

The majority of your day felt similar to that morning. You quickly realized that Ransom’s fortune was just a small portion of the Thrombey estate, and that his family were essentially a bunch of monsters with money. Throughout the day of horse riding, wine tasting, and wine painting workshops, you couldn’t help but notice how they turned their noses up at you, treating you, and the staff working at the vineyard, like some sort of outsider. 

Your alienation only became more apparent during Harlan’s celebratory dinner, when insults and sneers were tossed at both you and Ransom for being together. 

“Are you trying to get revenge on us, or something?” Richard asked at one point, gesturing to you, and catching you completely off guard, 

“Why would you say something like that?” Ransom asked, trying not to let his offence show as his jaw clenched.

“It’s just not like you to want to settle down, especially with someone like… her,” he spoke about you like you weren’t sitting right there.

“No, I agree,” Walt added. “For once in our lives I agree with you,” he laughed aloud, and a few other folks at the table laughed with him. “Can you believe that after all these years, we’re bonding over Ransom’s little girlfriend?” 

You weren’t even sure how to react, so you laughed awkwardly along with them, and stared blankly at the vast expanse of grape trees behind the row of Thrombey and their friends. What you would give to sprint out into that, and never come back. 

Ransom looked to you in your obvious discomfort, and grabbed your knee, offering it a little reassuring squeeze before he interrupted them. 

“You know what? All of you dickheads can eat shit. Y/N is really the only person who matters to me at this point, and you pricks need to respect that. Hell, you need to respect her.” 

“Look at little Ranny, getting all soft,” Walt chided. 

He ignored the comment and continued on, “And If I don’t start hearing apologies soon, every single one of your wedding invites have a one way ticket to the shredder.”

A silence fell over the table. You were a bit surprised too, since your invites had already gone out, and Harlan was the only Thrombey to receive one.

“...You’re getting married?” Meg asked, breaking the silence. “Why wouldn’t you tell us?” 

“Why do you think?” you muttered, pushing around a few things on your plate before standing up, and pushing your chair away. “Excuse me.”

You knew that by leaving, you were only opening yourself up for more criticism, but you genuinely weren’t sure that you’d be able to take one more second of hostility. You pushed your chair back in, before heading off the patio, into the gigantic home, and up to the room that you’d claimed.

You rolled on top of the bed, and screamed into a feather filled pillow. It wasn’t too long after when tears stung your eyes as you came to the conclusion that these monsters were just a few months away from becoming your in-laws.

You thought you’d heard the most of it after the table, yet a prompt knocking at your door proved otherwise. Letting herself in, you turned to face Ransom’s mother herself, and you just knew that you were in for it.

“Listen, you whore,” Linda began in a sharp, yet quiet tone, “I don’t know what you’re trying to do with my son. Isolate him from us. Try to ‘change him’ like I know you think you’re doing. But just know that at the end of the day, he’ll always pick us. You’ll always be the second choice, especially when Ransom realizes that you barely have a dime to your name, and his bank account starts to runs dry,” she approached you, and pointed an accusatory finger towards you. “You’ll never be anything but a disgusting, sloppy little gold digger. You may be his toy of the week, but at the end of the day, you’re just an afterthought. I suggest that you get out of his life sooner than later. I’m sure Ransom wouldn’t mind, considering we already have your replacement with one foot in the door,” she gestured over to the window facing the back patio, where Ransom was chatting with a brunette woman that appeared to be quite a few years younger than himself.

“You’re cute, Y/N. Really! It’s cute that you’re thinking right now that he would never leave you, cheat on you with some new, younger, hotter piece of ass. Just know that you don’t know Ransom as well as you really think you do. I can promise you, it’ll be much easier to break off an engagement than it’ll be to get a divorce. Especially with that prenup he’s considering dropping on your desk any day.” she tutted as if she cared. “Well, sweetheart, it was great meeting you. I’m glad that these were our first and last words together,” she gave your back a pat before leaving the room, and you looked out the window in shock. 

Shaking as you dig into the pocket of your sundress, you sent Ransom a simple ‘help’ message, before setting your phone aside and trying to pack your belongings in as quick of a manner as possible.

When Ransom opened the door, a steady stream of tears and mascara was staining your face, while you urgently threw things into your suitcase.

“Goose, what happened?” he gasped, hurrying over to your kneeling form, and setting a hand on your shoulder. 

“Why,” you sniffled. “Why would you let her come up here and say all that shit to me!” you croaked, swatting his hand away from you. 

“What?” he watched as you pressed down on the overfilled suitcase and frantically attempted to zip it, to no avail. “Linda said she was gonna come apologize?”

“Telling me that I’ll never be enough for you is just a perfect apology,” you muttered, “I need to go home.”

“God,” he grumbled to himself, “This is exactly why I waited so long for them to meet you. Okay, we can go home then. I’ll buy us tickets right now.”

“This is on you too, Ransom. You didn’t tell them about us, like, at all. You had so much time! You couldn’t give Linda a call and say ‘hey I’ve been seeing this girl’ or even tell Harlan to deliver the message for you?” you hiccuped, but continued. “All of this could’ve been avoided if they had four years to adjust to our relationship. Maybe then they wouldn’t call me a whore and a gold digger every other sentence.”

“I was just trying to protect you from them,” he frowned.

You finally managed to zip up the suitcase, and stood up along with it, “well, you clearly did a great job of that.” 

You dusted off the skirt of your dress, and grabbed your phone. “I’ll let you know when our car gets here,” you huffed before walking into the en-suite and closing the door behind you, just to have a moment for yourself (and make yourself look a bit more put together before you leave.)

A tense car ride, and awkward flight later, you marched straight into the guest bedroom, and cocooned yourself under a copious amount of blankets. You felt like you stayed there for years, only getting out of bed to shower and use the restroom, and living off of the crustless sandwiches and jarred spaghetti your fiancé brought to your door. 

You slept most of the time, and in the moments you weren’t sleeping, you were dwelling on every vicious word thrown at you at the vineyard. Every day, you listened to Ransom apologize through the door, yet every day, you questioned if going through with the wedding was truly the wisest idea. 

A few days into your stay in the guest bedroom, you finally allowed Ransom to stay in the room for more than just dropping off food. He sat down next to you in bed, and cupped your cheek in his hand, rubbing his thumb softly back and forth against the skin. 

“I don’t know how I can make things right for you,” he said softly. “I really did set you up, and I didn’t even mean to. I should’ve made better decisions, but I can’t change four years ago. But I can keep those heinous people away from you. They’ll never have the chance to do, or say anything like that to you again, okay?” his thumb caught on a tear, which he promptly wiped away. “Just… please don’t leave me. The bed feels too empty without you, and it’s just been a few days. I can’t imagine feeling that emptiness for the rest of my life.”

You whimpered and sat up, abruptly embracing the broad man. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let your idiot family make me question the validity of our relationship,” you muttered into his shirt. 

“I promise you you’ll never have to worry about them again. They had their opportunity to make things right, and they missed it.”

-----

Things were more or less smooth sailing after that fiasco. You found your perfect venue, decided on your ideal Honeymoon spot, and finished your seating arrangements with time to spare, and the next thing you knew your wedding day was around the corner. 

It all seemed to happen so fast, one second you were being walked down the aisle, the next, exchanging vows and rings as aisles of your friends and family members cheered for you, Y/N Drysdale.

Your reception also seemed to slip right through your fingers, your first dance, toasts and cake cutting finding itself over almost as soon as it started. You were grateful that you hired a wedding videographer, as the day was so overwhelming, you weren’t quite sure how much of it you’d remember. 

As you drove off to the airport, Ransom set his hand upon your knee one more time. A warm, fuzzy feeling formed in your chest at the all too familiar gesture. You turned your head from the window to your husband, who was grinning back at you, and couldn’t help but to think of how perfect your wedding ended up, though it felt like it sped by quickly. More than anything, you were grateful that you didn’t give up on Ransom despite his interesting family. 

[tokoyamisstuff]

Tender Ch. 1 - Loki x Mute! Reader

Summary: Even though Loki doesn’t understand why the new member of the Avengers should be kind to him of all people, he doesn’t want you to stop either.

Warnings: Loki being depressed, the Avengers being kinda mean, mentions of Torture and Death

Words: ~2100

[Story Masterlist] [All of my Works]

All eyes were on him again.

As soon as Loki would step inside, the previously lively room would fall completely silent. Well, it’s not like he wasn’t used to being the involuntary kill-joy...

Usually, the God of Mischief craved attention, may it be positive or negative - most of the time being the latter. But lately, after months of having all those distrustful and hostile glares piercing holes into him, he’d rather wish for the ground to swallow him whole.

“Umm, so...I gotta go.” Natasha was the first one to flee the unpleasant atmosphere, not even putting the energy into mutter anything else than a cheap excuse on her way out. Clint wordlessly followed her close after, but not without shooting the Odinson one last, spiteful look.

Loki on the other hand was picking on his hands, a nervous habit he had inherited from his mother. As much as he tried to avoid meeting their eyes, the tensioned aura they were emitting making him feel close to breaking down completely - but he would never give them the satisfaction to witness this, he swore to himself.

And yet: Maybe he should just leave. Disappear, forever.

Although he’d never admit, Loki had grown very tired of his life following this stirr path, unable to diverge into a new direction. Everything he did would ultimately bring death and destruction upon mankind, inflicting fear in the hearts of all people.

His whole existence was based on being condemned to fail - just for others to reach their ‘glorius purpose’.

“Great” Tony scoffed. “Now they’re gone. Well done, prince of nothing.” Steve cut his friend off, clearing his throat very exaggeratedly.

The god still hadn’t moved from the doorframe of the conference room, while all others were already sitting on the oval-shaped table. He didn’t got what all that fuss was about. If Steve didn’t insist him to attend this emergency meeting, he’d just have gone about his usual business and avoided everyone as good as he could.

“C’mon, brother” Thor sighed, well knowing that if his brother was to stay in the team, it would ultimatively drive a wedge between them. All that pressure in the air was straining for everyone, including himself. 

Tony on the other hand was pretty chill about everything, aside of being passive-aggressive. This was probably due to their similar coping styles.

Even though his near-death-experience back when he stopped the Chitauri was still eating on his mental health, he’d prefer glossing over it with stupid jokes and overly confident behaviour. “No sassy remark today, Reindeer Games?”

Stark was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed as he rose an eyebrow on the god, who only muttered a hoarse “No...not today.”

Yeah, it was kind of his style to break the unsettling silence through puny comments or self-glorifying speeches, to distract from his own insecurity.

But right now, he was just so damn tired.

Of this planet and it’s people, as well as the humiliating circumstances he had to dwell in. The fact that he was a prisoner at the Stark Tower, amongst his worst enemies. Being forced by his brother to keep up this meaningless act, as if he’d ever be seen as a team member or ally - when in reality, he was but a slave to the people he once ought to reign.

Just like back on Asgard: Never one of them, never belonging. No way to break free - for his true self was something to be loathed.

However, first and foremost the one thing he was especially tired of was himself, for he couldn’t get out of his own skin. Not only could he never be considered a hero, let alone be redeemed.

After all the atrocities he had commited due to Thanos’ torture and the tesseract’s influence,  now that he woke up from that naive dream of power stilling the emptiness in his dark heart, there was nothing left for him - other than to be haunted by his crimes until the mercy of death would overcome him.

“Well” Steve began, slamming his palms on the desk to attract everyone’s attention. “As you all know, we are welcoming a new team member today.”

“They all know?” Of course they wouldn’t let him in on such sensitive information. Not that he minded either way - one Avenger more or less, it didn’t matter how many people hated him in here.

“Please, come on in.”

Loki cleared the entrance when he heared Tony’s words, turning around in anticipation of another dull creature like the Hulk to torment him - but his calm demeanour dropped completely at this unusual sight:

“Y-You?!”

That was simply not possible! The last time he had seen you was almost a year ago, and you were on the brink of death at that!

“For everyone that doesn’t know yet: Her name is Y/N Y/L/N. She is one of the victims HYDRA experimented on, and they succeeded in forming an artificial mutant.”

Steve went on and on explaining about your powers, but Loki’s head had already turned on autopilot, the only thing he could concentrate on being how the hell you of all people ended up here.

All these months, he was desperately trying to get any information about you, all of his hints ultimately leading him to dead ends - and in the end, tragically believing in your imminent death.

The memories were still painfully vivid in his mind: It was his first mission together with the Avengers, at a HYDRA hideout with most likely no civil survivors.

Actually, he had planned to make his escape right when the others engaged in a fight, wandering the hallways of what resembled a torture chamber rather than a laboratory.

On the walls were several instructions, about a serum that might cause a human to mutate if they were exposed to unbearable stress - pain being the most effective method, apparently.

Yet instead of finding anything useful for his personal gain, he found you: A  beautiful woman, yet emaciated and lying in a puddle of her own blood. At first he thought you to be dead just like the others - but as soon as your faint whimpers drang to his ears, he burst the cell you were trapped in open, rushing to your side immediately.

“Shh...” the god scooped you up from the cold stone floor, wrapping his cloak around your broken body. “Everything is alright now. Your savior is here.”

Loki gasped as he felt your hand stroking his cheekbone, even through all your pain and weakness wanting to bid your hero this due respect.

“Hel...you humans are such fragile creatures...” Loki muttered under his breath, cursing his own lack of talent when it came to casting healing spells. “Hang in there, look at me!”

Your eyes were teary and bloodshot, yet not less fit to bring across a message no words ever could: Incredible gratitude, and admiration.

He could tell you were close to passing out when your hand left his face, falling limp to the side. But he held you firmly in his arms, not once stopping to utter sweet words of encouragement as he made his way to the ship, leading you into safety.

“Your world in the balance, and you bargain for one man?”

Those were the words he once directed at Black Widow - but only now he understood her attempts.

Saving one person could never make up for all the lives he had destroyed - and yet he knew that for you, it would mean the world none the less.

In one way or another, with your life at his mercy, he began to finally grasp the preciousness of life, and doing everything in one’s might to protect it.

“Reindeer Games” Tony tapped on his shoulders, making Loki wake from his pondering. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t scare her away on the first day already.”

Oh.

Just now he was noticing his own grim expression, having towered over your much smaller form this whole time with furrowed brows.

“My apologies” was his firm response, but you only shook your head, trying to tell him it was not a big deal.

So this was what you looked like when you’re not imprisoned, he realized when he took in your physique.

Much to his pleasure, all of your wounds had seemingly healed, and you finally gained some much needed weight. Like this, you looked so much more healthier - and most definetly even more bewitching than he remembered you.

If people had let him know, would he have visited your sickbed, aiding you towards health again? Who knows...

Yet somehow, he dwelled in the thought of you being able to lead a happy life now that you were free - which made your decision to seek out the Avengers in wish for more battles even harder for him to accept.

“You are incredibly strong, Lady Y/N” Loki spoke firmly, everyone else rolling their eyes at his usual exaggeration - but you knew he meant every word. “Be sure of my eternal respect.” 

The God of Lies’ eyes widened in excitement when you directed a warm smile at him, knowing for sure that this one was genuine. It wasn’t like those fake smirks the other Avengers gave him out of politeness, or the mocking laughs when they were making fun of or excluding him.

No - that one was just pure affection. And it left him in awe.

“Thank you for saving me back then” you signed, just for Loki shooting you a puzzled look.

“What, I thought the all-tongue knows every language?” Tony yelled, as inconsiderate as always. Thor was quick to explain on his brother’s stead, him still being deeply invested with you. “Every spoken one, yes. ASL is not one of our fortes.”

Usually, Loki had always been a quick thinker. But right now he was to bewildered by your appearance that thinking straight was out of the question.  

What language were they speaking of? And why have you not been saying anything up until now? Maybe his presence was making you uncomfortable, after all? Should he leave on your behalf?

To make it easier for him to understand, you rolled down your turtleneck, revealing the unsighty scar that covered your whole throat.

There were not many people bold enough to come close to the God of Mischief without warning, yet suddenly you simply took his hand and slowly led it to your neck.

How could you be so naive and offer someone like him such a vital spot?! He’ll never get the human philosophy...

And yet, the flabbergasted god hesistantly let his hand run over the scar, while you opened your mouth to no avail - for 11 months already, no tone would leave your vocal cords.

“I’m incredibly sorry...” Loki whispered with a sorrowful tone, while the others just stared in disbelief. “If only I was able to heal this wound back then...”

What a puny god he was...and an even more pathetic wanna-be-hero at that...

He would try to take a few steps back, but you took a hold of his hand, squeezing it with both of yours, that cheerful smile not faltering in the slightest.

“Please, don’t be sad. I’m only alive thanks to you!” Bucky, whose cousin was mute as well, translated what you were signing for Loki. His tone sounded quite irritated, not fitting those meaningful words. “I only wanted to join the Avengers because I want to be just like you. You’re my idol!”

Those words touched him deeply, igniting a flame inside of him he thought long to be defunct. Was it hope?

Of course it was not nearly enough to pull him out of that deep, dark hole he felt trapped in for as long as he could remember - yet somehow, he now felt that it was not impossible to escape.

While the others were cringing at your declaration, making jokes about ‘choosing wrong idols’ or would plainly not believe Loki to have a positive effect on anyone, the two of you would just stare at each other in silent admiration.

Shyly, you signed yet another word for him - and this time, Loki would know what you mean from pure intuition. 

He smiled.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Loki was able to smile again, just thanks to your heartwarming welcome. And he was still blissfully unaware about what effect you could have on him, if he was brave enough to let you close.

One thing was sure: You literally had him wrapped around his finger from the very start.

[jmbringitonworld]

Why You Shouldn't Mess With The Machine

For all of the chaos that would follow, that day had started off deceptively normal. It was a beautiful day, as were many days on the Surface at that time of year, the sun was shining, the flowers were blooming and the birds were singing. It seemed like the perfect day to conduct an experiment that Sans and Papyrus had been working towards for weeks, to finally bring to life a dream Sans had had since childhood: rescuing their father, W.D. Gaster, from the Void.

It had seemed like the perfect time to fulfil his long-held ambition. After years of living on the Surface, monsters had slowly, but surely, been accepted by humans, having integrated themselves surprisingly well into life Aboveground and human society, in large part thanks to Frisk’s efforts as their ambassador. Frisk herself was happily married to Sans, her best friend and closest confidant, the love of her life, the one monster who had been with her throughout most of her journey Underground, and the only person, besides her adoptive sister, the newly revived Chara, who fully understood the hardships she had faced on her quest to break the Barrier and free monsters for good. It had come as no surprise, to anyone who knew them, when they had announced their relationship, nor when they had gotten married. What had come as a surprise, however, was when Papyrus and Chara had revealed their relationship.

Most of their friends and family had been delighted for them. Alphys, who had spearheaded the project to revive the lost prince and princess, had been ecstatic to have a new ship to celebrate, Undyne was happy her best friend had found love, Toriel and Asgore were both overjoyed that their, usually unfriendly and acerbic, adopted daughter had found a special someone to love and cherish her, and Asriel, while a little saddened that his best friend would now be spending most of her time with someone else, had nonetheless been very supportive, and had taken this as an opportunity to explore new horizons, having decided to go to university. Frisk, having been the only one aware of the growing feelings between two of her dearest friends, had done her best to encourage their relationship, hopeful that Papyrus’s kindness and optimism would be able to heal Chara’s scarred heart, and that, in turn, Chara’s fierce loyalty and cunning would protect and strengthen Papyrus’s gentle soul. The only one not pleased with this unexpected development, was Sans.

Still haunted by the events of an erased timeline, Sans had never been able to entirely forgive Chara’s rampage of death and destruction across the Underground, regardless of how temporary it had become. As for Chara, she had her own issues with the former Judge and his lack of honesty, and had despised him for breaking Frisk’s trust during both their dinner date, and when she had overcome Chara’s control to show him mercy, in the Last Corridor. Chara hated betrayal, of any kind, above all else, given her past experiences. But despite their mutual dislike of each other, the two former foes acknowledged how important the other was to their lover and to their sibling, and so had formed an uneasy truce. A truce that had held out even when Papyrus and Chara had announced their engagement.

It was with this assured peace and happiness in mind, that Sans had revealed to his family his desire to finally fix his father’s machine and bring the former Royal Scientist back from the Void.

“That’s a wonderful idea!” Frisk’s face lit up, her determination to save a lost soul clear to see. “It’s always bothered me that there was nothing I could do to help him. I searched throughout the entire Underground during my journey, for any clue on how to save him, but all I could find were his followers mentioning him, before suddenly disappearing when I looked away. And not in the way you do, Sans. It was more like... they just stopped existing.”

“Yeah, it was creepy,” Chara agreed, grimacing at the reminder.

“their connection to this plane of reality must be unstable, because of the accident,” Sans frowned thoughtfully. “but if they’re somehow able to reach us, no matter how briefly, then we should be able to find a way to reach them, and dadster, and bring them all back home. And dad’s machine can do it, I just need to fix it.”

“YOU MEAN, WE NEED TO FIX IT,” Papyrus interjected forcefully. “DON’T FORGET, BROTHER, YOU’RE NOT ALONE. I CAN HELP YOU! I WANT TO HELP YOU! IF YOU’LL ACTUALLY LET ME.”

Sans cringed, a remorseful, apologetic look on his skull. He held his hands up in defeat, backing down in the face of his younger brother’s reproachful glare.

“you’re right, bro, sorry. we’ll fix dadster’s machine, together. it’s gonna be hard work, and ya know how much i hate workin’. so i definitely need my super cool and talented bro to help me with this.”

Suitably appeased at the praise, Papyrus drew himself up proudly.

“NYEH HEH HEH! OF COURSE, I’LL HELP YOU! YOU CAN ALWAYS COUNT ON ME, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, FOR MY UNRIVALLED INTELLECT AND UNPARALLELED WORK ETHICS!”

Frisk cheered for him, winking at her husband in approval. Chara rolled her eyes at their antics, well used to them by that point.

“Of course, you bleeding hearts are only focusing on saving some poor, unfortunate souls,” Chara sneered derisively, “instead of on the danger you could be putting yourselves into. Did you guys forget that it was because of that machine that Gaster and his followers disappeared in the first place? What if you guys end up trapped in the Void yourselves!?”

Papyrus visibly deflated, wringing his gloved hands nervously.

“IT’S NOT THAT WE HAVE NOT THOUGHT OF THE DANGER. I, TOO, HAVE SOME CONCERNS REGARDING THIS ENDEAVOUR! BUT... CHARA, THIS IS MY FATHER. I MAY NOT KNOW MUCH ABOUT HIM, OR EVEN REALLY REMEMBER HIM, BUT, STILL... I WANT TO SAVE HIM! PLEASE UNDERSTAND!”

Chara sighed in resignation, sulkily turning away from her fiancé’s pleading look.

“I don’t understand... but if it means that much to you, then I’ll support you,” she relented, with obvious reluctance. “I just don’t like the idea of you messing with a potentially dangerous machine you guys know next to nothing about.”

Delighted and relieved, Papyrus lifted his fiancée into the air and spun her around in elation, paying no attention to her half-hearted protests.

“YAY! THANK YOU, MY BELOVED! YOUR SUPPORT MEANS THE WORLD TO ME!”

“Yeah yeah, whatever, just put me down already,” Chara blushed hotly from within his arms.

Papyrus complied, while Frisk snickered at her sister’s embarrassment.

“Don’t worry, Sissy, everything’ll turn out okay in the end, it always does,” she reassured her disgruntled sister. “And if anything does go wrong, then we’ll solve it together, just like we always do. There’s no problem we can’t overcome if we work together!”

“you know it, wifey,” Sans grinned proudly at his wife’s confidence, appreciative as ever of her unwavering, positive attitude.

“EXACTLY, FRISK!” Papyrus agreed. “WE’VE ACCOMPLISHED THE IMPOSSIBLE ONCE, WE CAN DO IT AGAIN!”

“Idiots, the lot of you,” Chara shook her head exasperatedly, but there was no denying the soft, fondly affectionate smile on her lips.

And with that, the group made plans on how they would go about repairing the broken machine. With all of the gold the monsters had brought with them from the Underground, as well as with the sale of their magical food, which had proven to be overwhelmingly popular for its near-miraculous healing properties, monsters had very swiftly found themselves incredibly wealthy. As such, the skeleton brothers had used their newfound wealth to purchase a large mansion on the outskirts of Ebott City. Their new abode was close enough to civilisation for easy travel via the roads, but far enough away from any nosy neighbours, to allow them the privacy they needed to carry out their work unimpeded. The enormous house also boasted lots of spacious guest bedrooms, for all of the group’s many friends and family to come over and stay the night. All in all, everyone was very pleased with their new home, with the brothers in particular being glad to be reunited under the same roof once more, and they had quickly moved the old, mysterious machine into the massive basement.

After weeks of diligent work, with a great deal of time, effort and research having been devoted to the task, Sans finally decided that the time had come to activate the machine. And so it was, on a beautiful, seemingly average day, that the four of them stood in front of the large, metal apparatus.

“this is it, folks. it’s finally time to see if all of our hard work’s paid off,” Sans spoke, with an uncharacteristically serious look on his skull.

The others nodded, equally solemn. The skeleton monsters grasped their respective lover’s hand tightly and, together, pushed the button that would turn on the machine. Immediately, a whirring noise could be heard, along with several harsh clinks and clangs, as the high-tech contraption slowly came to life. Releasing their collective held breath, the four of them looked at each other in cautious hope, as everything seemed to be going well. But suddenly, the machine started to rumble ominously. Before anyone had time to react, there was a loud explosion from deep within the machine, and the entire room was filled with dark smoke. The family quickly backed away, coughing and calling out to each other in concern. Amidst the panic and the noise, more voices could be heard coming from the direction of the machine. Shocked, the group of four watched as three other, eerily similar, groups of four slowly emerged from the smoke. Blinking in stunned disbelief, they all cautiously observed the newcomers.

Each group was comprised of two skeleton monsters and two humans, who each bore a striking resemblance to Sans, Papyrus, Frisk and Chara, respectively. The first group was dressed in reds and blacks, and the two skeletons had a menacing aura to them. The one who resembled Sans had sharp, pointy teeth, one of which was gold, and red eyelights, which matched his red jumper. The Papyrus lookalike had a ferocious look on his scarred skull, which bore three deep scratch marks over one eye socket, as if something had clawed his face. His mostly black outfit was stylishly accentuated by a long, blood-red, tattered scarf, which, along with its owner, looked like it had seen numerous fights. The human who looked almost exactly like Frisk was, for whatever reason, wearing a spiky dog collar, and seemed a lot less self-assured and more hesitant than her counterpart, while the Chara clone was crossing her arms defensively, a worried, fretful frown on her pale face.

The second group was even stranger, seeming to bear only a superficial resemblance to the original quartet. The shorter skeleton had the physical appearance and body shape of Sans, but his demeanour and attire seemed more akin to Papyrus, with his blue bandana, gloves and eyelights, and his bright, almost child-like look of curiosity. Likewise, the taller skeleton may have looked more like Papyrus, but his orange hoodie and his slouched posture was more reminiscent of Sans. Their copy of Frisk had a cold, suspicious look on her face, with an air of danger about her, though she smelled faintly of caramel. As for the other human, while alike Chara in looks, she had a cheerful, excited look on her face, to compliment her wide, eager grin.

Finally, the last quartet seemed to be a mixture of the other two, with their apparently swapped clothing preferences and personalities, and the more aggressive, threatening air to the monsters. The shorter male resembled Sans, but with sharp, pointed teeth, scars across one of his eye sockets, and purple eyelights, bandana and gloves, although the rest of his neat, well-kept outfit was black, to match the dark, fearsome expression on his skull. The other male had Papyrus’s height and outward appearance, but little else it seemed, as he wore an extremely fluffy hoodie, which he nearly drowned in, and a dog collar, with a bone tag, which, when paired with the meek, submissive way he held himself, brought to mind a timid dog; an image very much at odds with his two sharp, golden fangs and the subtle hint of menace in his eyelights. Their version of Frisk had a haughty air and a near-condescending look on her face, though it did not completely mask the uncertainty and quiet fragility hidden underneath. Lastly, their Chara counterpart had a calm, self-assured, almost dignified bearing, and despite the surrounding chaos, appeared completely unfazed by it all.

As everyone took in their new, and wholly unexpected, arrivals, Chara was the first to recover.

“I told you this was a terrible idea!”

___

Once the initial confusion had died down, everyone settled down to try to figure out what had happened. After much lengthy discussion, including introductions, explanations, and a great deal of theorising, the monsters all eventually came to the conclusion that they were all different versions of each other, from various alternate universes. They speculated that, since they’d all tried to activate a reality-bending machine to reach into the Void, at the exact same time, the interdimensional bridges each machine had created had all collided and intersected, as a result pulling everyone in contact with the machines into the most stable timeline, that being the one most similar to the theoretical “Alpha Timeline”, the very first, original timeline.

“that’d be us, i guess,” Sans surmised, meticulously going through his many pages of notes, theories, calculations and blueprints.

“THEN ALL WE NEED TO DO IS REVERSE THAT PROCESS, WHILE CREATING A MORE STABLE BRIDGE!” his blue counterpart punched one fist into the palm of his other hand, azure eyelights blazing in determination.

The Sans with red eyelights scoffed derisively.

“it ain’t that simple, ya blue moron,” he sneered nastily, though it lessened considerably at the harsh glare the Frisk with the icy demeanour shot him. He nervously cleared his non-existent throat, somehow sweating as he tried to avoid looking at her hostile expression.

“all i meant was, it ain’t gonna be easy. we’d need ta fix the machine, which, if you guys haven’t noticed, is a complete wreck, an’ then we’d need ta recalibrate it, with new specs an’ coordinates we haven’t even figured out yet. we’re gonna have a helluva time fixin’ this mess!”

As he threw his arms up in annoyance, the Sans with the purple bandana tutted dismissively.

“THEN WE’D BEST GET STARTED AS SOON AS POSSIBLE,” he said, carefully inspecting and readjusting his gloves.

And so, it was decided that all of the skeleton monsters would work together to fix Gaster’s machine, with the aim of sending them all back to their home dimensions. In the meantime, the original quartet had invited their visitors to stay at their house, since they had more than enough spare bedrooms to accommodate everyone, with the couples all sharing bedrooms, an offer the others had all accepted, having nowhere else to go.

Any initial optimism of accomplishing their goal in a timely manner soon vanished, however, as the enormity and complexity of their task quickly made itself apparent. The skeletons’ collective knowledge of their father’s machine was minimal, and it had been no small feat getting it to function in the first place. With it now almost completely destroyed, they had only a slim chance of repairing it to working conditions, and, on top of the many, complicated calculations they needed to do to properly fine-tune it to meet their needs, most struggled to maintain hope. Along with their rising frustration, the guys also found that, despite being alternate versions of the same person, or their brother, they didn’t all get along very well. Arguments were common, though, thankfully, not fights, none of them wishing to endanger or upset their girlfriends.

To combat the confusion generated by them all sharing the same names, the skeleton monsters had decided to give each other their own nicknames. The Sanses had chosen simple, colour-based names, going by Red, Blue and Black. They’d initially wanted to call Black, “Purple”, but his Frisk had immediately vetoed that idea, instead insisting on the name Black, hinting at some sort of inside joke, given Black’s exasperated sighs and Frisk’s mischievous giggles. They hadn’t intended to give the resident Sans a nickname, since it was his universe after all, but his Frisk had insisted that they address him by the nickname “Comic”, arguing that “it’s not fair that my hubby is the only one left out; besides that’s one of Chara’s nicknames for him” (“I have plenty of other ones which suit him far better...” Chara had grumbled, which had earned her an irritated, resentful glare from the monster in question).

The Papyruses, for their part, had decided on slightly more imaginative nicknames. Despite Red always calling his brother “Boss”, the others had instead chosen the name “Edge”, though some still snidely called him “Edgelord”, much to the militant monster’s indignant fury. Blue’s brother now went by “Stretch”, given his lanky figure, made worse by his constant slouching. Black’s brother had been simply nicknamed “Rus”, although Black still referred to him as “Mutt”, which seemed to explain his dog collar (somewhat). Everyone was stumped on what nickname to give the resident Papyrus, who had insisted on being included in the “nickname game”, until eventually, his Chara had quietly suggested “Vanilla”. She didn’t clarify why, though Frisk was more than happy to enlighten everyone (“the standard model, based on the most popular flavour of ice cream. Also, it’s really soft and sweet, just like Paps!”), which had sent their Papyrus into rapturous tears, as he enthusiastically hugged both girls.

The humans, on the other hand, had staunchly refused any official nicknames, much preferring to go by their real names and absolutely relishing any resulting confusion, finding the chaos hilarious (“Good morning to you, Frisk!” “Good morning to you too, Frisk!”). Moreover, while there was plenty of animosity amongst the skeleton monsters, there was, shockingly, none to be found amongst the humans. All of the women had taken an immediate liking to each other, instantly acting like best friends and sisters, much to their lovers’, occasionally disgruntled, surprise. Furthermore, given their abundant determination, as well as their unwavering belief in their boyfriends (or husband and fiancé, in the original Frisk and Chara’s cases), they were all confident that their partners would eventually succeed in their arduous task, and find a solution to their current problem. Their boys were geniuses after all, many of whom had studied quantum physics and the intricacies of the time-space continuum; the girls had complete faith in them. In the meantime, they would continue to support them, in any way they could, all while making sure their idiots didn’t end up destroying their lovely mansion.

And with that turbulent beginning, there followed many more, chaotic and sometimes tumultuous days, in the overcrowded skeleton-human household.

__________________________________________

I took a bit of a break from trying to force myself to write out Fransweek prompts, to introduce my take on a very popular AU within the OC/Reader x Sans and OC/Reader x Papyrus community (of which I'm not a part, but still appreciate nonetheless). It's the machine skeletons AU, where various AU versions of the skelebros mess with (what we like to assume is) Gaster's machine and all wind up in classic UT, except with my twist on the formula: their lady loves have joined them!

Also, while most of the stories I've seen begin after the skelebros have already established themselves within the UT world, I wanted to explore the hows and whys of them getting there, as well as the immediate aftermath and how they dealt with the incident.

As you can probably (I hope) tell, I've chosen Underfell, Underswap, and my version of Swapfell/Fellswap. I use the last two names more or less interchangeably here, because their AU is a mix of both Swapfell and Fellswap, with the former's colour palette (purple), but my baby Rus is most definitely adorable, insecure, soft boi Mutt from a lot of Fellswap AUs. My heart bleeds for soft bois. Although, I have absolutely no idea where Black fits within the SF/FS split. I've chosen not to include Horrortale, for various reasons. While I absolute love that AU, I don't think it'll fit here. I also have enough characters to keep track of here, without adding another four to my plate. Horrortale will have its time to shine, but that is not now.

At the moment, I don't exactly have a plan for this AU, besides a couple ideas, but I like this AU concept so much, I had to write it out. Who knows, maybe I'll do more with it in the future. Or maybe someone else wants to do something with it? One can dream.

Anyway, back to trying to force my brain and hands into submission. You will obey me eventually!

EDIT: I'm listing everyone's official nicknames here, for future reference.

Sans: Comic (UT), Red (UF), Blue (US), Black (SF/FS)

Papyrus: Vanilla (UT), Edge (UF), Stretch (US), Rus (SF/FS)

Frisk: Topaz (UT), Ruby (UF), Sapphire (US), Amethyst (SF/FS)

Chara: Buttercup (UT), Rose (UF), Bluebell (US), Violet (SF/FS)

[thedevildomdaily]

Demonic Possessions Ch 9: Love Advice & Interior Design

Note: Here’s the Master List for the full story. I recommend reading my stuff on my actual Blog if you enjoy OM! official music! Thank you so much for the support. Please let me hear from you in the comment section. I wanna talk OM!

I decided to make this chapter with more light banter and fun interactions and give the nephilim brothers some attention.

Warnings: Swearing, NSFW implied, light stuff this time ********************************

A couple weeks had passed. Construction on the attic was nearly complete. Lucifer and Azriel had negotiated a schedule in which the nephilim brothers would work on the attic bedroom for their sister. This helped avoid chaotic mornings, at least where the nephilim were concerned.

The overall mood of The House of Lamentation had shifted from the unease of having a new occupant amongst the Brothers and Lilly, to an odd sense of which the brothers had never experienced before. A shift in their dynamic as a family twisted due to a certain blossoming relationship.

Leviathan had become more outgoing and less reluctant in participating in events. He was more welcoming of everyone hanging around his room as well and his mood was less-likely to sour thanks to Lena. His brothers were happy for him, but it was an unusual experience for them as well. It was hard to ever find the two of them apart from each other.

“Thank you for doing my nails Asmo!” Lena chimed, “Your skills are amazing!”

Asmo grinned with brimming confidence, “Of course they are Leee-na. I’m an absolute master with nail art.”

“He’s also the best hair stylist.” Lilly chimed.

Asmodeus’s room had transformed into a spa for the two female residents and himself. The human was laying on his bed with a face mask and cucumbers over her eyes as her toe nails dried. Her hair was in a towel and she was completely relaxed as she sipped on her mimosa.

The nephilim had a peel on her face as she sat in a lavish chair while the demon painted a cute black cat on her accent nail. She too had her fill of mimosas as they relaxed from a week of cramming for a chapter test in alchemy. The math involved was exhausting, but she’d probably do well enough.

“Your brother is almost as bad as my old man when it comes to studying. I’m doing my best to be civil about it, but it’s getting on my nerves…”

Asmo gave a dramatic sigh, “If you think he’s bad now, wait until midterms. It’s a boot camp nightmare.” He then exchanged looks with Lilly as she peeked at them from her cucumber. He was underselling Lucifer’s regime.

“You know….” Asmo began with a sly voice, “I’m surprised Levi isn’t in here to get his nails painted…” Lena knew he was just baiting her at the mention of his brother. He wanted to open a dialogue to gossip about their relationship.

Shrugging, “I offered an invitation but Levi’s nails are still great from the last time you painted them. He’s also really engaged in a super hard game. The last time I saw him, Beel and Belphie were watching him battle a boss. It was getting intense in there…” It was also extremely cute, she thought.

“I’m just saying, given the fact that he’s the Avatar of Envy, I figured Levi to be a little more possessive and be following you around a lot more.” his younger brother admitted.

“Not gonna lie…” Lilly added, “I kinda anticipated that myself.” The brothers were all very possessive and it was easy to picture any one of them being like that. Well, Lucifer excluded. He was too damn cocky to believe anyone would stray from him ever.

Lena thought about it for a moment, ‘Well, I took your collective advice and talked directly with him when we went on that first date. I laid it all out for him: I’m not being held down to any single relationship. And in a kinder manner, that I basically don’t want to deal with jealousy. I’ve given up on monogamy….” he chuckled for a moment, “He actually compared me to you Asmo, and then asked if I wanted to start a reverse harem...and ya know what, I kinda like that idea haha!”

The other two blinked for a moment and joined in the laughter. “Pffft, that’s definitely a Levi-type of conclusion…” Lilly chuckled. She peeled the cucumbers off and ate them as she sat up. “It looks like you guys reached an amicable agreement then?”

The nephilim looked upward, clearly thinking about it for a moment. “We have. He agreed to an open relationship and to not be overly clingy with me. It’s beneficial to the both of u-”

“BOTH!?” Asmodeus interrupted, “Please explain!!?! Has my big, nerdy brother been hiding some secret affairs over these past few centuries?!” Why would it benefit the both of them, when only one of them has even been in multiple relationships?

“Oh, it’s quite simple really,” Lena chuckled, “His 2D waifus. I won’t ever complain about them or come between him and his fandom and I can have relationships with others as well. Besides, we’re immortal beings...forever is a realistic timeframe for us...why cling to each until we both become miserable? Monogamy hasn’t ever worked for any immortals I know...what about you?” Of course she was asking Asmo as he finished her last nail.

The demon shook his head as he released her hand and got his DDD ready to take pictures of his work for the gram. “Not that I’ve ever paid attention to it, I really can’t think of anyone...even angels drift apart and take loooooong breaks.”

“Well that’s a bit depressing….” Lilly mumbled.

“Oh, Lilly dear...don’t get depressed about it. It’s the beauty of humanity. You guys are far more capable of having a one, true love...not that you have to stick to it. It’s a valid option though.” She didn’t mean to depress the human. In her very long life, Lena had been in 100+ year relationships with various long-lived beings and it never seemed to work out. She was now trying this open relationship thing so that she didn’t feel tied-down or tired. She didn’t want anyone she was with to feel that way either.

“It’s all good. I was teasing for the most part.” Lilly smiled, “There’s only so many ways a person can spice things up and keep their relationship fresh; I’m sure an immortal couple could really struggle after a few centuries. It’s that case in my favorite vampire novel series anyways…”

Asmo didn’t comment on the matter. He couldn’t relate since he was loved by all and could charm anyone he wanted. He never for a moment considered a relationship because he could never love anyone more than himself.

“So, since you’ve found a way for things to work, have you guys……?” He smirked at the nephilim.

“ASMO!” Lily shouted. He merely chuckled.

“It’s none of your business…” Lena responded.

“That would be a solid ‘No’ then.” He quibbed. Lilly exchanged a look with him and nodded.

“Y’all are both horrible! It’s hard given he’s so reclusive and nervous. But also very cute….NO! I’m not talking with you guys about this, especially you Asmo. I’m not giving you any ammo to blackmail Levi…” She paused for a moment and contemplated, “I know he’s shy. But I also….”

“Also what?” Lilly blinked.

“I don’t know how to approach him. I’ve never been with a demon. Are you guys...very different for other beings?”

“Oh, you wanna see? Hmmmm?” Asmo teased. Or was he?

“Stop it!” Lilly smacked his shoulder lightly.

“Lena. You’re gonna have to make the first moves on Levi. Good news is there won’t be much effort you’d have to put into seducing him. It’s just finding the opportune moment when you’re feeling it.”

The girls both stared at Asmodeus for a moment.

“What? Is there something on my gorgeous face?” He immediately felt his pale, rosey cheeks.

“No, you’re just being surprisingly perceptive and giving profound advice on the matter.” Lilly said, “Lena should definitely wait until she feels right before taking the move. Like you said girl, you’ve got eternity. Take your time. Levi is a great guy and I know he’d never pressure you...”

Lena smiled and looked-up while thinking about him. “Yeah, he’s great. Special. I have so much fun with him. It’s nice to have someone interested in the same nerdy stuff as I am and not being picked-on about it 24/7.” Her last relationship went down like that. “When he blushes simply by me taking his hand, or how shocked he gets when I sneak behind him and wrap my arms around his waist...oooh... He’s too cute!!!!”

The nephilim squealed and shut her eyes hard thinking about her Levi-kun and the other two just laughed at her. Her responses to his cuteness just didn’t match her aesthetic at all and they found it hilarious to watch.

"Oh.." Lilly chimed in again, "They're 'normal' I guess."

Lena and Asmo blinked at the human for a moment.

"You asked if they were, ya know, compatible. I've had the horror of accidentally entering the men's bath when we went on a trip to a demonic hotspring before...I wanted to shove hot pokers in my eyes..." Lilly cringed.

"Oh, that's right! Lilly got to see me in all of my glory...jealous?" Asmo grinned.

The trio laughed and picked on each other all afternoon.

****************************

“Okay, we need a few more pieces of paneling. I want some nice filigree border work.” Azriel said to himself out loud as he took a step back to look at the progress made on his sister’s room.

Zak stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets, as he watched his brother pace across the room. “Hey bro. It’s looking good. You really outdid yourself this time.” His siblings were super artsy, creative types. He couldn’t keep up with them on that. Instead, the middle sibling put any creativity into vehicle design and engineering. “Let’s take a break and go to Hell’s Kitchen for lunch. Then when we get back, you can spot anything else we need to do….”

“You do have a point. Let’s eat and come back with a new perspective…”

**************************

The nephilim brothers went for lunch, meeting up with Beelzabub and Belphegor. The twins were in the back corner, where the owner often put them so they weren’t a distraction for the other customers.

Belphegor had his arms folded on the table, propping his head up as he watched Beel chow down on ten burgers.

“Hey guys, can we join you?” Zak asked when he approached the demons.

“Sh--rr” Beel nodded as he wadded another large bite of food. Zak could have sworn the demon’s jaw had unhinged to take such a huge bite.

Azriel took a seat next to Beel. The two of them were the same height, though Azriel was much thinner, with more of a swimmer’s body then a body-builder’s. Zak sat by a groggy Belphie. They too, were the same height but different build. Zak liked to work out when he wasn’t working on a new engine.

“You guys about to finish remodeling?” Belphie asked with a yawn at the end, “I’m curious what you’ve done to my old...space.” Was it a bedroom or a prison? He didn’t know quite how to label the attic Lucifer kept him in.

Azri gave a pleasant smile, “Yes. It’s all coming along smoothly. Lena will be thrilled with it. It’s a touch of old european with her beloved gothic asethetic. She might not like the light-colored flooring, but it makes the space look bigger…” he went off into deep thought for a moment. Then, he saw some green in the corner of his eye and smiled, “excuse me for a moment…”

“Sorry, I swear Azri has ADHD or something...don’t mind him. ‘Creative Genius’ at work 24/7” Zak chuckled and looked at the menu.

“S’okay.” Belphie nodded and closed his eyes for a moment. “Sounds like you’ve had a lot of things to do. It’s nice putting in that effort for your little sibling.”

The twins and Zaksalamel chatted and ate their lunch, nearly forgetting that the elder nephilim had even came to Hell’s Kitchen. When he finally returned, there was an empty plate left at his spot.

“You shouldn’t have ordered and left when sitting by Beel…” Belphegor responded after seeing the shocked expression on Azri’s face. “Your food didn’t stand a chance...and apparently the napkin…”

“S-sorry….” Beel scratched the back of his head.

After a moment of silence, Azriel sighed, “it’s okay. That one was definitely on me….”

Zak noticed his brother’s cheeks get a little rosy. His mind was elsewhere clearly. What was he up to. “Hey, Devildom to Azriel...where’d you disappear to?”

“Oh, forgive my rudeness..again.” He suddenly returned to the conversation. “I just happened to see someone I know and asked for their opinion about the flooring choice…”

“Mmmh-hmmm…” Zak’s eyes narrowed at his brother, knowing there was something else to it. Azriel’s voice tone was suspicious. He’d leave it alone for now.

“So, anyways, I made the right decision, and I think we will be finished with everything in 2 days.” Azri clapped his hands together, chipper with the apparent results of the consultation he’d just had. “Beel, if you’d like to make it up to me for eating my highly-anticipated lunch, could you help carry furniture upstairs? You must be very careful…Lena is going to flip out when she sees it!”

As the four of them returned to the House of Lamentation together, Beel and Belphie walked some space behind the nephilim.

“They sure seem to care a lot about their sister to spend so much time on this room. I don’t think it was that bad..” Belphegor said quietly.

‘True. But, we’d do the same thing for our sister too. And that means Lilly as well…” Beelzebub nodded.

Agreeing, Belphegor let out a small sigh. He wasn’t sure about his own opinion of Lena so far. They didn’t start off on the best of terms. No, he’d admit that he behaved like a brat that day. But he never had the opportunity to get to know her or to apologize for his overreaction. Maybe he’d help with the furniture too?

[helion-ism]

Elucien + yellow tulips + red rose + peony + morning glory + hydrangea + heliotrope + daisy + coriander ❤️ please and thank you 🥺

🌻 yellow tulip: if their s/o is sad, what would they do to make them smile again?

lucien’s gonna go over the top. elain is sad for whatever reaso and he shows up holding like 3 puppies in their bedroom and elain laughs like “lucien we can’t keep them all” and he’s so relieved because she’s smiling (they end up keeping them). he also spontaneously takes her on a trip. wherever. just to distract her and show her what beauty the world has to offer.

I think what elain has to do whenever he’s sad is just be there for him to show him she’s with him and she won’t leave him. confirmation of her love and loyalty. but she would also cook whatever five course dinner she made to accept the mating bond, spend hours in the kitchen to cheer him up and make him think of one of the happiest days of his life, and be willing to give him space if he needs it.

🌻 red rose: what turns them on the most?

elain loves when she sees lucien tending to the garden. when he picks up a flower and gently plants it in the earth? his caring nature and passion for things is what gets her. but more explicitly, his hands. literally anything with his hands. when she watches him braid his hair. when he braids her hair? they won’t leave their bedroom. not for at least 3 hours.

lucien when elain finally speaks her mind: 🤩 I personally think that would be very sexy. but yeah, I think he would go crazy when he sees her wearing day court attire. a white flowing toga, flashing legs and a rope that shows off her curves. I also think this kind of clothing would finally represent elain and her inner self. flowing and easy. and then imagine elain dancing in her toga in the light summer rain of the day court? my poor boy would lose his mind

🌻 peony: how do they get their s/o to blush? how does their s/o make them blush?

I feel like elain is currently blushing at almost anything. when she learns how to handle literally everything, I would like to see her blush because of something lucien says or does that completely throws her off balance. lucien is not as easily fazed. but when elain notices something about him that nobody else seems to appreciate or takes for granted, he actually blushes and then plays it off. like lucien always working (him still helping with the spring court) or sharing important information (about tamlin) and doing his best to contribute to life/sacrificing himself (going on a journey to raise an army to help fight hybern) or even something small like giving up plans to be with elain when she’s not feeling well, she would be the one to finally show him appreciation and acknowledge it and be grateful — because nobody else seems to be 🙃

🌻 morning glory: what is their favourite form of physical affection?

lucien loves waking up with elain in his arms still sleeping. mornings are his favourite time of the day so naturally he loves starting them with his mate. a little bit of cuddling and more included 😁

picture this: everytime lucien is excited about something, he subconsciously grabs and squeezes her hands — and she absolutely love this small gesture. she loves his hands and his enthusiams and that he shares with her. 🥰 he actually needs to physically touch her to express his excitement.

🌻 hydrangea: how often do they get into fights with their s/o? who usually apologizes first?

they don’t fight often because lucien is peaceful and doesn’t seek out arguments. they generally agree with each other. but if they do have a fight or disagreement, I really feel like lucien is the one to apologize first. elain has always been coddled by her sisters and protected by them — she’s not the one to see her own mistakes first, I think. but after a while, when she realises she’s been in the wrong, too, she will definitely interrupt his work day and find a way to make it up to him. 😎

🌻 heliotrope: who would be the first to propose?

lucien definitely. elain is traditional and so is he in this regard. lucien’s mum would give him one of her family’s heirlooms and it would be the most beautiful rose coloured diamond ring. and she’d obviously love and cherish it.

🌻 daisy: what is their love language, both giving and receiving?

I once made a post about lucien’s love language. giving: act of service and physical touch 100% simply because of everything he has experienced so far. he lacked physical affection, got abused, and that’s why imo, he gives back what he always wanted. gifts are also a pretty good one for lucien.

receiving: physical touch for reasons mentioned above. he would definitely appreciate physical touch out of love. and definitively words of affirmation because damn, somebody better tell him he’s doing good. 🥺 like does anyone ever thank him for anything? tell him he’s amazing and courageous and beautiful? he deserves it.

elain loves to give quality time. she loves spending time with the people she cares about. she lives in the same house as feyre (let’s not get into this right now) and this tells me that she wante to be around people and does not like to be alone. which is why she likes to share her time with others.

receiving: sincere words of affirmation — she needs somebody to listen to her and encourage her to do be herself and to step out of her comfort zone. she’s currently not doing that, but I hope that as soon as she leaves the night court, she will find courage in herself and that lucien can also help her with her confidence. gift giving. first of all, they were poor, so I think elain would generally like the idea of somebody thinking of her and getting her something. the other thing is that she loved her human life and being engaged to graysen. and a process of that is of course courting and gift giving. I think elain would like to experience this as a fae. especially because gift giving is not just buying something for somebody, but it’s remembering and thinking of somebody even though they’re not there.

🌻 coriander: answered already 😌

credits to @dreamwonderandexplore for helping me with this 😏

[gaylotusthatexists]

undesirable

pairing: platonic dlampr ig? focused more on platonic logicality

summary: Logan realises that the others don’t give him physical affection as much as they do for everyone else, and conducts an experiment in order to make himself more ‘desirable’.

trigger warnings: sympathetic janus and remus, touch starvation, negative self talk, please let me know if i need to add anything else

word count: 3233 

a/n: so this idea came to me due to this thread with @5-falsehoods-phonated so i wrote this entire thing in one go last night. logan bby i am sorry. i hope y’all enjoy~

ao3 

Patton hugged him today, for... the first time in a while, Logan was pretty sure. He couldn't remember that last time he was physical with any of the other sides, preferring to keep his distance, not really feeling like he needed it. Studies had shown that physical affection was important in a human's development, and he knew how important physical affection was to Thomas himself, how people... enjoyed it? Logan wasn't human, though - he never really considered that he'd need it, that he'd want it.

Did he want it? It had felt nice, warm, comforting when Patton had hugged him earlier. Why had Patton hugged him again? Patton had been... excited, Logan was pretty sure. He thought that Logan's idea had been good, and in turn given him a hug to display that... happiness? And it hadn't been terrible, Logan supposed. Startling at first, of course, and he hadn't been quite sure on how to respond, wasn't sure what the proper hugging etiquette was. That was kind of concerning - did he really have so little hugs that he didn't even know how to react when someone gave him one? Surely he should know what to do with that. Surely he should have known how much physical touch burned, in a... good way.

He wanted to hug Patton again, but wasn't quite sure how to initiate it. Just asking for a hug would seem uncharacteristic of Logan - Patton would assume something was wrong, which wasn't true, of course, but Logan wouldn't know what to tell him. He'd hugged him after he explained his idea, so maybe just having good ideas was the way to go? But Logan put his ideas forward all the time, and they had never received that kind of response. In fact, it wasn't even his best idea, so...

Logan scooted over to his computer and opened a word document, beginning to type down his ideas for a new experiment. An attempt to figure out how physical affection worked, why it felt so good, and how he was to get it. He felt... stupid, as he typed up his hypothesis, his brain telling him he was pathetic for even wanting that, but his arms were cold and he was desperate to feel that heat again, he needed this.

~*~

Day one. Logan had stayed up late the night before, researching why people formed relationships, what it was about people that made other people want to touch them. He hadn't found any solid advice, nothing real - all just stuff about feelings, things that he didn't, couldn't understand. So instead, he decided to take the day to observe the others in action, figure out what made them initiate hugs or the like. Perhaps if he could document the behaviours and attempt to imitate them, people would find him more 'desirable' to engage with.

He hadn't realised before just how much the others touched each other. It seemed like everywhere he looked, someone was touching another. Roman and Virgil curled up on the sofa watching movies, Patton and Janus making cookies in the kitchen with their shoulders touching. Why was it that whenever Logan did those activities, everyone kept their distance? He occasionally would watch documentaries with Virgil, those David Attenborough ones that Virgil said helped to 'calm' him, but Virgil had never tried to cuddle Logan on those nights. And then when Logan cooked dinner with Patton or Janus, they always stayed on their own side of the kitchen, nowhere near close enough to just casually touch.

That got him thinking - was there something wrong with Logan himself? Was it something about him that just... made the others not want to go near him?

Perhaps Logan needed to change a lot more than just his behaviour, if that was the case.

From his spot on the couch, he looked over at Remus and Janus standing by the stairs, Remus telling some sort of joke. Janus started laughing, and placed a hand on Remus' shoulder. They got closer and closer until they were hugging, and Logan felt... something, deep in his chest. Anger? Sadness?

Jealousy?

No, no, Logan had never been jealous before, had he?

He looked away, glancing into the kitchen. Virgil sat on the side with his legs swinging back and forth, and Patton stood between them, his arms wrapped around Virgil's waist. They looked happy, which just made Logan feel awful. Then he looked at Roman on the sofa with him, shuffled all the way to the other side, eyes fixed on the tv screen, not even thinking about Logan. Which just filled Logan with... rage.

Logan stood up and stormed upstairs, pushing past Remus and Janus and, in doing so, brushing against Remus' hand. He loved it. He wanted to reached down and grip Remus' hand tight, twist their fingers together, but... he couldn't. He ignored the concerned stares from the others as he went into his room, slamming his door shut.

~*~

Logan tried to research more, but all the stuff he could find was on abstract emotions, things that didn't quite make sense and Logan couldn't just do. So, he decided to try a different strategy. From the parts of the research he did understand, he had gathered that people tended to be physical with those they found attractive, so perhaps if Logan made himself appear more attractive, the other sides would be more inclined to perform physical acts with him.

What was it about a person that made them attractive?

Logan tried to think about who he found attractive, but that proved to be difficult. He then tried to think about who Thomas found attractive, but that wasn't much help, as Thomas himself didn't look much like any of his celebrity crushes. Logan supposed he could always shape-shift, but that seemed... wrong, manipulative, like he was tricking the others. No, no, he needed a different approach.

Maybe he needed to be more like what the others found attractive?

Humming, Logan grabbed his recorder and left his room, heading down into the commons. An interview would be a good idea, valuable to his research. Who to interview, though...

Patton was in the kitchen, preparing dinner. None of the others were in sight. Okay, Patton it was.

~*~

Interview One. Date: July Seventeenth. Subject: Patton Sanders.

Uh, do you have to-

The recording is important evidence for my research, Patton.

...okay. What exactly are you researching?

I can't tell you that, or the data may come out false. This needs to be unbiased.

Alright then. Be quick, though. I need to keep an eye on the cooking.

Of course. Question one: on a physical level, what do you find attractive in another person?

...

Answer the question, please, Patton.

Uh, I don't know. Everyone is beautiful in their own way.

Yes, but is there anything specific?

I don't know. I like people who can make me laugh?

...that isn't a physical quality.

Well, the 'physical qualities' don't really matter that much. I mean, I guess there are some people I find prettier than others, but really it's the personality that matters more.

Hmm. Interesting.

Why are you asking this?

I told you before, it's for science.

Do you... need to talk?

No, Patton, I'm-

You look rather pale, are you okay?

I- I think I'll end the interview here.

~*~

That had been a complete waste of time, Logan realised. Personality? How was Logan supposed to change his personality? He could easily make himself more physically attractive, it was fairly simple to alter one's body or change their hair style, or, in Logan's case, shape-shift into the perfect man, but... changing his personality in general was a lot more difficult.

And... it got him thinking, sent his mind to places he'd rather not go. Was he really that undesirable? Just because of the way he was as a person? Did Patton rarely give him affection because he just hated him so much?

Something wet dripped down Logan's cheek. Frowning, he looked up, but saw no signs of a leak or any water above. And he wasn't sweating or anything, so...

Was that a tear? That didn't sound right. Logan had never cried before. And he wasn't sad, was he?

Perhaps he just needed a different test subject. Chances were, Patton was just an anomaly. He must be able to get more concise, useful data somewhere else, right?

~*~

Interview Two. Date: July Eighteenth. Subject: Roman Sanders.

Can we make this quick? Thomas really needs my help with this new video idea-

Of course, I only have a few questions. Firstly: what do you find most important, appearance or personality?

Uhh... that kinda depends? Are we talking about what I look for in a romantic partner?

...sure, if you want to think of it that way.

Well, appearance obviously plays a big part, although if I don't like someone as a person I'm not going to get in a relationship with them, you know?

So, what you're saying is they're... equally important?

Yeah, I guess.

Huh. Alright, second question: what do you find physically attractive in a guy?

Oh! Oh, there's... actually a lot, there. The eyes are what I first look at, usually. And the hair. Oh, and muscles! Big strong lads are great. But not, like, aggressively muscular. Like, a soft side is nice too. Fashion is a big thing as well, I guess. Like, guys in crop tops? Amazing. Tanks tops as well - it's the arms, I think.

Interesting. So... a fit person?

Sure. I mean, it's not super important, but like if someone clearly frequents the gym, they've caught my eye, y'know?

Alright. Thank you. Uh, final question: what do you find attractive in someone's personality, if anything?

...hmm. Well, someone who shares the same interests, I suppose. Y'know, someone I can talk to. Good humour. Confidence.

Confidence?

Yeah. Like, I like it when a person knows what they're doing, when it seems as though they aren't afraid of anything.

Oh.

Is there any reasons for these question?

No, no reason in particular. Just... for science.

~*~

It had been several weeks since his conversation with Roman, during which Logan had been working out every day, using Roman's old gym in the Imagination, mostly running on the treadmill and lifting weights - weights more often, as Roman had stressed the important of arms. He'd also talked to a couple of the others, who had essentially given the same opinions as Roman - in particular, Virgil had gone on about how a sense of style helped, and Remus had explained more about the muscle situation.

Nothing much had seemed to change, though. Logan had attempted to change how he presented himself, even taking off his tie some days in an attempt to make himself look less serious. He had considered investing in some crop tops, but couldn't imagine himself wearing anything not tucked in, so that idea was quickly abandoned. Then he thought about stealing some of Remus' tank tops - and even had, briefly, only to discover that he just looked uncomfortable, plus he had begun to smell like Remus which was certainly less than desirable. He'd even tried walking around shirtless one morning, but that had only earned him a couple of weird stares, confusion, concern.

He'd experimented more and more with his appearance, changing his hair style every few days, wearing different coloured contacts in his eyes, even wearing makeup a few times to see if that did anything. But still nothing. The other sides still kept far, far away from him, just like they always did. He didn't understand what he was doing wrong.

It did occur to him a few times that he could just ask the others to give him a hug. Patton would probably comply, even if it was just out of pity. But then that wouldn't prove anything, wouldn't change anything. And there was always the chance that they'd say no, and... Logan wasn't sure if he could handle that. He already suspected that the others thought he was undesirable, but hearing it would be different. Strange, he'd never been afraid of rejection before.

~*~

Date: August Fifth. Subject: Patton Sanders. Objective: physical affection.

I am aware that this is a bad idea, but it is pivotal to my research that I at least attempt. Worst case scenario, Patton explains that he's too busy, and we never have to speak of this again. Best case scenario, I finally get that 'hug' that I've been... craving? I believe that's the word, although I will make a note here to look it up later. I am now approaching the kitchen, where Patton is preparing dinner alone. My recorder will be placed in my pocket, as holding it may make the experiment more troublesome, I hope the audio will not be too muffled.

Oh, hey Logan!

Good evening, Patton. I'm...

Are you alright?

Yes, of course. I'm just- doing that experiment still, and need more data.

Oh, of course! Do you have more questions? I just put our food in the oven, so I have time to talk if you want to.

Um, it's- I don't really need to ask any more 'questions', per se, just...

...what is it, Logan? You look nervous, do you-

I'm fine. I- [deep breath] Would you be willing to engage in... physical contact, with me? A, uh... y'know-

...are you asking me to hug you?

Yes. If- If that's okay with you. If not, that's fine, but it would helpful for my research. Although I- I can leave, if you want me to, of course. It's- I have enough verbal data to complete the experiment regardless.

...

...

Logan, can I... Can I ask you something, instead?

Uhm, yeah, sure.

What exactly is your experiment about?

...

Logan?

I have to go.

~*~

Logan laid in his bed, staring up at the ceiling and hugging himself, clutching on tightly to his shoulders. He couldn't stop himself from crying, and he didn't know why, didn't understand what was going on with him. It wasn't as though Patton had rejected him. Just... maybe he was beginning to realise just how stupid this whole experiment was. It wasn't as if he could force the others to like him. He should've just asked in the first place, then... then maybe it wouldn't have gone this far.

He didn't understand what he was doing wrong. He'd tried everything he could think of, but nothing worked. He'd tried every combination of different appearances, tried to act differently around different people - more confident in front of Roman, more sensitive in front of Virgil, more friendly in front of Patton. Still, nothing. Nothing had changed, and nothing was going to change. This had all been a waste.

Logan took out his recorder and listened back to his logs, to the interviews, to his two am rambles, trying to figure out if there was anything that he was missing, any detail he'd forgotten about. Then he moved to his laptop and scrolled through his document, checked through all of his data, all of his calculations, but still couldn't find a single thing wrong. Perhaps he just needed to admit the fact that he was undesirable, unloveable. There was nothing that could change that, nothing that could make him better.

This was fine. It wasn't as if he needed it - he'd gone on this long without it before, he could cope with never having it at all. Couldn't really miss what he'd never had.

~*~

Date: August Seventh. Subject: ...I'm not sure yet. Logan Sanders, possibly? Or everyone. We'll see how this goes. Objective: ...I don't know.

I haven't left my room since the encounter with Patton in my last recording, although have been communicating with the others via text. They have asked me to join them in the commons for a talk. What this is about, I have no idea, but I will record it just in case, for future reference.

...

...

...

Logan!

Good evening, Patton. (I am now sitting down on the couch. All five other sides are here, and they look... concerned?)

What are you doing with that?

I'm just recording this conversation for future reference. You know, the experiment and all.

Yeah, about that. I- We'd like to talk to you about that.

You... would? (Patton seems to be taking charge of the conversation, but the others are all staring at me, intensely.)

I- I did ask the other day and you didn't respond but... what is the experiment about? We're... all a little worried, in all honesty.

(Interesting.) Why are you worried?

... You've been acting weirdly recently, Logan. You have to admit that.

(He's not wrong. That was a fear when I first started the experiment. Perhaps I should start again.)

Logan, can you stop talking to your recorder and just... listen to us? Tell us what's wrong?

There isn't anything wrong. I told you, this is all purely for science.

What's the experiment about?

I... (I'll have to start the experiment over again anyway, as it so clearly failed. New test subjects with therefore be required. Due to this, there is nothing wrong with telling everybody now.) I realised that... out of all six of us, you guys seem to come to me the least for acts of physical affections, if you come to me at all, so I wanted to understand why, and attempt to change myself to better fit to your standards required for wanting to participate in physical relationships with others. I... was attempting to make myself more 'compatible', I guess. More desirable.

...

...Patton?

...

Patton, are you crying? Did I say something wrong?

...Logan, can you turn off the recording?

~*~

Logan sat in the middle of the couch, with the other five surrounding him, engulfing him in a 'cuddle pile', as Patton had called it. It was nice, he decided. Warm. He wasn't quite sure what he was meant to do, but was grateful for the warmth of skin to skin contact, for the safety he felt as the others wrapped their arms around him. Why had he never done this before? Was it that he never wanted to, or... was it that he never asked?

Patton had tried to explain that they all tried to keep their distance from Logan because they thought that was what he wanted, that he'd be uncomfortable with hugs all the time. Logan had tried to explain back that, yes, in the past he hadn't quite understood the appeal of physical affection, but had since began to 'crave' it, to want it more than anything. Patton had asked why he hadn't just asked the others to hug him, and Logan had answered that he didn't know how to ask, or didn't want to sound desperate. Then Patton had reassured him that there was nothing wrong was wanting to be touched, and that he didn't need to be afraid to ask for it if he needed that. He'd told Logan that there was nothing Logan needed to change about himself - they all liked him just the way he was.

The experiment had been... successful, in a roundabout way. He'd achieved physical affection, at least? Although all that research had been for nothing. It wasn't as though he hadn't learned anything, though. He learned that... it was okay to ask, it didn't make him weak or pathetic or desperate. He wasn't undesirable. And the others weren't going to let go.

[yyxy-seph]

FF7 DEBATE CLUB : Part 1

Disclaimer: This was inspired by my “WHAT TYPE OF STUDENTS WOULD THE FFVII CHARACTERS BE IN SCHOOL??” Posts. For more context, you can go read those if you like! I hope you all enjoy and my inbox is always open! Feel free to request imagines and tell me your thoughts on things.

I hope you enjoy @birdblacksocialclub !! :)

_____________

The defensive members gradually collected in the empty, dry classroom that’d soon feature all types of dilly-dallying and possible throat-clutching arguments. The first attendant was a young and drowsy Sephiroth. He remained punctual with every meeting and never failed at being the first to enter the room. A quality Genesis truly despised, as he felt HE was the main event and Seph’s early-bird tendencies were outshining his presence. Thus, it was another reason for Sephiroth to stay on his game.

Non-Ironically, Genesis made his appearance with a raised chin and firm shoulders, the usual, confident stance.

“Well, hello there.” He began.

“Genesis...” Seph returned the greeting.

“It’s unfortunate that you’re here first, like always, but If it’s the Goddess’s will, I’ll live with it.”

“As you should.”

Genesis’s eyebrow twitched in slight irritation but he carried on, seating himself behind Sephiroth.

A tensioned silence resonated in the room for a while.

“Hmm, you’re quite soundless today.” Gen finally spoke again.

“Just as you are loveless.”

A tiny smirk flared from the red-head’s lips.

“You know me too well. It seems you’ve figured I’ve picked the topic for today’s discussion, hmm?”

“Again, the topic is not up to you. It’s up to our instructor. And Genesis, even a deaf man would know you’re up to no good.” He spoke, throwing his silver locks behind his shoulder.

“Dammit. What did I tell you about that!” Genesis yelled, moving Sephiroth’s hair off of his desk. “I might just cut it and leave you bald for school the next morning.”

A chuckle fell from Seph’s lips.

The door creaked with an ear-splitting noise, signaling the arrival of their teacher. He settled his books on the dumbapple-colored desk. And with a clear of the throat, he said

“Genesis and Sephiroth...man, am I glad to see you two. You two are my fiercest competitors, keeping this club alive. Like really, I’d call for the Shinra helicopters if you two were to resign.”

Slightly concerned gazes held the boys’ faces.

“Hah, Just kidding! You should’ve saw your guys’ faces!”

Sephiroth spoke to relieve the weird situation.

“Yeah...anyway, Reno, I was just gonna say....I’m not really-“

Just then, Cloud Strife appeared; another fierce competitor.

“-feeling it today- you know what. Nevermind!”

Cloud sat two seats away from Sephiroth in the same row.

Best believe, the Nibelheim boys are always going head-to-head in Debate Club. Outside of club, they’re quite peaceful and social. But when school work has already worn them out for the day and there is added passion for the premise of their arguments, things get pretty tense.

“Good Afternoon, Cloud.”

“Not today, Sephiroth.” He replied, not even looking over at him.

Genesis leaned over his desk to whisper in Sephiroth’s ear.

“If he’s a puppet, you’re the ventriloquist.”

The silver boy rolled his eyes with an attractive smile. “Very well.”

“That’s the spirit!” Gen said.

Truth is, Genesis loves the drama that comes with Debate club. That’s why he’s the self-proclaimed drama king. He only wanted to hype Seph up so he could push past his drowsiness and argue with him and Cloud.

More students began filling up the room, but not too much. There we only like 12 members that engaged in this weekly mess.

Zack, Angeal, and Aerith snuck in as well to get a taste of the tea for today.

Zack is actually in a language club. It was an impulse decision for what he described as “broadening his horizons”. He said it’d probably be a good thing for him to learn French in case of a future mission he’d have in his dream spot as a first-class SOLDIER.

Angeal was also in a Spanish learning club. And as expected, he exceeds at it. His intermediate level and sexy accent grabs everybody’s heart in a way they’ve never felt before. No, seriously, people have swooned and fainted before. But he joins occasionally to save himself from the after school bickering.

And in Aerith’s case, Yoga club was cancelled for the day so she just decided to join and sit with her friends.

Their (somehow hired) teacher Reno began class promptly.

“Alright, everybody. I have a gratifying topic for you all today. It’s so temper-inducing that your brain won’t be able to handle it.”

“My brain can’t take this shit as it is”. Cloud mumbled under his breath, earning a few laughs.

“What was that, Mr. Stife??” he questioned furiously.

“I see you’re living up to your last name. Save it for the subject!”

He carried on.

“The subject is-“

“I have the PERFECT topic!” Genesis interrupted.

“I- did I ask for your input, Genesis??”

The drama king fluttered his eyelashes. “No, yet you always receive it, don’t you?”

Reno sighed. “Look, is it LOVELESS again?

“No.”

“Let’s hear it then.”

“Is Vincent Valentine, the former Turk, a hero or an Incompetent-

“Alright, we’ll have none of that. No shaming of the turks is permitted.” Reno cut him off.

“Anyways, my topic was “Should Shinra continue to experiment on future SOLDIERs to give them superhuman abilities or should they train them as natural human beings?””

“Sounds like a good topic to me.” Cloud responded.

“Same,” Angeal joined in “This seems like a topic where I won’t have too much trouble trying to pull these three from each other’s throats.

“Good, before we begin, don’t forget the rules! All weapons and devices should be in the weapon closet which I see most of you HAVEN’T DONE!”

At the mention of the said closet, everybody directed their attention to it. It had various scratches and dents, complimenting it’s dusty tone. And how could we forget the sizable hole on top of it. It emerged the moment Sephiroth tried shoving his masamune in the closet. Yeah, never again.

Everyone exited their desks, one by one, placing their weapons in the closet.

“Hey, what about your tasing rod, Reno?” Zack asked.

“I’m the teacher. I can do as I please, thank you.” He answered, classically.

“And don’t forget, we need an equal amount of girls and boys on each side. Too much testosterone on one side can cause hands being thrown as we’ve seen from previous experiences.”

“Umm I know I’m not really in this club and all but us girls can equally throw hands just for the fact that there are NO female SOLDIERs.” Aerith added.

“Fair point. You must join this conversation.” Sephiroth agreed.

“That’s my girl!” Zack praised while giving his girlfriend a quick peck on the cheek.

Reno let each of the students pick a side and then he split them into two groups.

“Everybody ready??”

“Yes!”

To Be Continued...

[abbacchiosbelt]

Upon The Shore | Mer!Joseph Joestar x F!Reader

A commissioned piece for @lovelystand!

3.7k words, not sfw. CW for a description of drowning - however, the reader character ends up safe.

In his mind, he sees it — though it’s only been described to him, he has no trouble picturing the rolling green hills and the bright blue sky, humans bustling about on two legs as they go about their daily business. The buildings that had been described to him are harder to picture in his mind’s eye, their architecture complex, and their outsides less colorful than the environment he had grown up in. He yearned to explore their insides, eager to see what sort of things the surface held.

If someone else were in his place, someone who had lived on the land their whole life instead of in the sea, they might be thinking of something similar - venturing beyond their regular life to experience something new that they’d only heard stories of. For most regular humans, a life under the sea was unthinkable.

Joseph Joestar was no regular human, however.

- Joseph’s long, green tail flitters impatiently in the calm water as he listens to another one of his Grandma Erina’s lectures about how dangerous the surface was, though his mind is far away as he daydreams about the surface.

Joseph had heard her spiel hundreds of times over each time he was caught close to the surface, but it never stuck. Joseph’s curiosity about what lay above the sea was endless. He knew his Granny Erina was just worried about him – all of her family save for his Uncle Speedwagon were gone.

Still, the call to go beyond the ocean pulled at Joseph’s body every day.

He snaps back to attention when he hears his Granny huff in annoyance, having caught him daydreaming instead of listening to her.

“Joseph,” Erina sighs, resigned to the fact that her grandson was unlikely to listen to her no matter how many times she warned him. “If you’re going to disobey myself and your Uncle Speedwagon, at least do us the favor of telling us where you’re at. We don’t want you to get hurt.”

Her voice softens as she stares past her grandson, the bittersweet look in her eyes familiar to Joseph – it’s the same way she looked when she’d reminisce about her late husband and his grandfather, Jonathan. “I suppose you are a Joestar. This kind of thing is in your blood. Your grandfather had the same heart for adventuring as you do.” Erina smiles and meets Joseph’s eyes again. “Just promise me you’ll be safe. Don’t stay up for longer than a day.”

Joseph’s eyes go wide, and his mouth falls open in excitement — it wasn’t exactly approval, but she was no longer outright forbidding him from taking a trip to the surface. He glides forward in the water and swoops his Granny Erina into a hug, spinning around in the water.

“Thank you, Granny!” Joseph practically shouts. Erina slips out of Joseph’s hug and shakes her head, unable to resist the smile pulling at her lips. He really was so much like Jonathan.

“Just remember what I said, JoJo.” Joseph nods eagerly at his Granny’s words, his body thrumming with nervous energy and excitement.

Tomorrow, he’d finally get to experience the most exciting adventure he’d go on yet.

-

Joseph, normally a late sleeper, rises with the sun the next morning. He’d barely slept through the night but still found himself buzzing with anticipation. It only takes a few minutes for him to gather his supplies for the day – the clothing he’d need was stored in a shallow cove he’d found and snuck into to store items he’d pilfer from the shore.

When Joseph emerges from his home, he sees his Granny Erina and Uncle Speedwagon waiting for him. For one second, he balks, thinking they’ll tell him to turn back – but his Uncle puts a firm arm on Joseph’s shoulder, his once brilliant black and white tail swaying slowly beneath him.

“Your Granny told me about your plans, JoJo. We know you’re capable of protecting yourself, but please, don’t do anything rash.” His Uncle squeezes his shoulder before he drops his arm. “You know, your grandfather and I got into quite a bit of trouble up on the surface… I’ll have to tell you about it once you’ve seen it for yourself.”

Erina shakes her head at Speedwagon, though the twinkle in her eye makes Joseph wonder what his Granny was thinking about. Before he can ask, she gives him a stern look. “Remember, Joseph. No longer than a day.”

“I get it, I get it…” Joseph says. “Don’t go too far. Don’t stay up longer than a day. I got this, Granny!”

The rest of their goodbye is quick – it’s not long until Joseph emerges at the cove, he’d stashed the clothing he’d stolen in, perfectly dry as it hung over the rocks.

He has no second thoughts as he hauls himself out of the water and feels the effects of land on his body, his tail giving way to strong legs that had unnatural, green scales running up and down the length of them.

The process has Joseph grunting as his body is pushed to its human form for the first time. It was a power that few merpeople held. The Joestar line was one of them, the power having been taught to them by a mysterious benefactor and passed down between generations.  

When it’s complete, Joseph tries to stand, his legs shaky. It takes a few tries for him to get his bearings, but when he does, he finds himself standing tall as he looks down at his body. He knew he was large for a merman, but somehow, he hadn’t expected it to affect his human form.

Joseph yells a loud ‘Nice!’ to himself before he turns to grab the clothes he’d stashed away. The shirt, a plain olive tank top, goes on easy enough, but dark blue jeans are another story. He struggles to pull them up his thighs and falls a few times before he finally feels them slide over his behind and over his hips.

Anyone else would hesitate in a moment like this, but Joseph wastes no time testing out his new legs by running out of the cove and onto the beach, feeling sand between his toes for the very first time. It’s such a strange feeling that Joseph pauses, looking down to wiggle his toes before he kicks his foot and sends the sand flying with a laugh.

Joseph continues down the beach, looking around in wonderment as he experiences the land above the sea for the first time. The sea breeze on his skin is cool and refreshing, the smell reminding him of his home despite the fact he’d only just left. He’d experienced the sun on his skin while sunning on large rocks before, but to feel it now felt like a whole new experience. Joseph puts his hands over his eyes and squints as he looks to the horizon, a small town looming ahead.

Joseph grins – this is exactly the type of thing he’d been looking for. He didn’t just want to experience places… No, Joseph wanted to experience new people. He takes off down the beach, his long legs growing steadier with every step. It’s only a few minutes before the town is right in front of him.

His Uncle Speedwagon’s descriptions gave Joseph an idea of what he would be seeing upon the surface, but it still took him by surprise to see humans walking upon two feet on the sidewalk and cars driving down the road. Joseph stands to marvel at the sights for a second, unusually quiet.

He’s unsure of where to start until he spots a girl – a very cute girl, if someone was asking Joseph. Brown hair, a cute and thick body, and some glasses. He watches as she heads into a small, two-story store with pictures of books on the sign. Though he had no need for books (they were far and few between under the sea, of course), he couldn’t resist a cute girl.

—

You breathe a sigh of relief when you walk into the bookshop, content to see that the only person present was the kind elderly owner, Maria, who also doubled as your landlord. It’s not that you didn’t want to see the shop succeed – you just weren’t feeling up to the small talk the local townsfolk usually wanted to engage you in.

“Hello, dear.” Calls Maria, raising her hand in a tired wave. “I’m feeling a bit worn out, so do you mind taking over for the last hour?”

You shake your head, happy to help the woman that gave you dirt cheap rent in turn for some extra help throughout the week. Besides, it’s not like there would be any more customers today, right? Maria bids you a goodbye as you take over for her behind the small front counter, leaving you only with the sound of the ocean outside.

A few minutes pass before you decide to crack open the book you’d been reading – but the second you open up the book, the chime above the door rings out. You look up, locking eyes with the most handsome man you’d ever seen. He definitely wasn’t a local. He grins when he sees you looking at him, marching up to the counter with confidence. You assume he’s just a lost tourist.

“Hello.” You say, quiet. The brunette grins, bright green eyes staying locked onto your own. “How can I help you?”

“Oh, I can think of several ways.” The stranger replies. You feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment. His grin grows even wider. “How about your name?”

You balk for a second – was a customer really trying to flirt with you on the job? On the other hand, you doubted you’d see this guy again if he was a tourist. Though your nerves are on fire, you manage to murmur out your name to the stranger in front of you.

“Oh! That’s a pretty name. I’m Joseph Joestar, but you can just call me JoJo.” He pauses, putting his elbows on the front desk as he leans down. You notice that he has no shoes on and can’t help but to stifle a laugh. Who was this guy?

He scrunches his nose up. “Are you laughing at me?”

“N-not exactly,” You manage to say between giggles, both shy and embarrassed by just how different Joseph was from any other man you’d met. “You… You forgot your shoes.”

His eyes go wide, and his eyebrows shoot up as he looks down at his feet. “Oh no!” He exclaims loudly. He looks at you with a sheepish grin and puts his hand on the back of his head. “I knew I was forgetting something. I’m, uh… New in town. I lost… the box they came in. Yeah. The box.” Joseph says, sounding unsure. You decide not to question it, though it has you raising an eyebrow in confusion. Joseph simply shrugs, and you drop the subject for now.

The two of you manage to chat for the next hour, with Joseph mostly leading the conversation. He’s so charismatic that despite your shyness, you feel comfortable around him. When you notice the hour on the clock, you sigh.

“Sorry, Joseph, but I’ve got to close the shop.” You pout to yourself before you remember what he said. “Wait, you’re not a tourist, right? You said you moved here?”

“Yeah!” Joseph shouts in reply, startling you. He gives you the same sheepish grin from earlier. “Uh, sorry. Is it okay if I stop by tomorrow?”

You were the kind of person that never expected this sort of thing to happen to yourself – you thought you were plain and boring. Too shy, not pretty enough… And yet here you were, talking to a handsome stranger who was giving you genuine attention without being creepy. No longer did you want to deny yourself of experiences like this due to shyness – with a small smile, you nod.

“Sure. You can stop by before we close.”

-

Joseph comes the next day, and the next, until you realize he’s visited you almost every day for a month. You didn’t think it was possible to fall for someone so fast, yet every little thing Joseph did had you falling more in love with him every single day.

The first day he doesn’t visit in a while is a stormy day – you’re not upset. You wouldn’t expect anyone to go out in this kind of weather. Not only was there a torrential downpour outside, but the sea and wind were raging. The sidewalks in the town you lived in weren’t built to withstand heavy rains despite the location, so it was best not to go outside during bad storms.

Unfortunately, you’d found yourself on the opposite side of town from the shop after a short grocery trip for yourself and Maria. Though it’s against your better judgement, you decide to step out from the walls of the warm grocery store into the chilly and turbulent storm. Each step seems to be more dangerous than the last, and you consider running back to the store when you reach the hill that leads down to the shop.

With a hesitant step, you begin to walk down the hill. Suddenly, you feel your world turn upside down as you slip on the wet earth, your body tumbling down the hill straight towards the raging ocean. The bags you were carrying are flung out of your hands as your body roughly smacks against the ground and you’re propelled down the hill – the only thing you can do is brace yourself for impact into the water, the fear coursing through your body making your heart pound a million miles a minute.

You’re tossed underwater and find yourself being drug under by the strong waves in an instant, your body nearly freezing in shock before you start to thrash wildly. Even though there’s a voice in your head screaming at you to try and calm down, your body continues to panic no matter what you do. You push against the water as your lungs burn, helplessly trying to force your head above the water.

You don’t know how much time has passed before you feel your body give up without your consent, your limbs falling limp by your sides in the water as the last bits of air escape from your lungs. The sky above isn’t even visible above the choppy waters – and then you’re being pushed through the waves at a blinding speed before your head emerges above the water as you gasp for air, lungs expanding painfully as you gulp in fresh breaths.

“You scared me,” You hear a voice say, though it sounds distant. Weakly, you turn your head and come face to face with Joseph – or at least you think it’s Joseph. There are bright green, iridescent fins sticking out of the side of his head where his human ears normally were. Before you can think about it too much, you find yourself sinking into darkness as your body starts to pass out from all the stress you’d just put it through.

The last thing you remember is Joseph calling out your name before you close your eyes.

-

When you wake up, you’re back in your own bed… except there’s a large, warm presence next to you that has never been there before. You blink wearily until the form turns over, revealing Joseph’s snoring face to you. Even though you’re still weak with sleep, the events of the past day come rushing back at you.

If it weren’t for Joseph, you wouldn’t be here right now. Though you want to wake him up to thank him, to tell him how much you love him, you know it’s better to settle back down and let sleep take you once more.

When you wake up again, Joseph is still next you, though he’s no longer asleep. Instead, he’s sitting against your headboard and flipping through a book with his brows knit. You stare at for a moment before he notices you, his mouth dropping open in surprise.

“You’re up!” He shouts, practically throwing the book down to gather you up in his arms. “I was so worried…”

The two of you remain like that for a moment, Joseph’s strangely cool arms wrapping around your body with ease. Despite how grateful you are and how happy you are to have Joseph next to you… You have some questions. You pull back and put your hand against Joseph’s cheek, meeting his gaze.

“So…” You say. Joseph echoes the sentiment, looking sheepish. “A merman, huh?” Joseph eyes you for a moment, nodding. “There’s record of merpeople, but they were thought to be extinct. At the very least, merpeople that were able to walk on land have been unheard of for years.”

“Yeah, well…” Joseph says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Surprise?”

He looks nervous. You roll your eyes and smile – typical Joseph. “We can talk about this later. For now… Let me thank you?”

“T-thank me?” Joseph says, his suave persona falling away. He was finally able to be vulnerable in front of you, the bravado he usually carried fading as Joseph felt more and more comforted by your presence. “Babe… If you’re sure.” He pulls you onto his lap so that your legs are on either side of his body but makes no further moves. “I think you already know this, but I love you.”

Even though you knew you would hear it from him someday, you still blush. “JoJo,” You sigh, happy. “I love you too.”

Joseph leans forward and presses his lips to yours, leading you into a tender kiss that quickly turns passionate as his tongue swipes at your bottom lip. He tangles his hands in your brown hair to pull you even closer until you’re pressed flush against his chest, his movements careful as so not to pull too hard. Joseph was gentle, despite all his enthusiasm and strength.

Joseph slides his hands from your hair and down your sides as he continues kissing you, until he’s pressing you down into the bed, finally pulling back to smile at you. He puts a hesitant hand at the hem of your shirt. “Can I?” Joseph says, sounding breathless.

“Please,” You murmur. Joseph lifts your shirt up over your head easily – and though you feel like covering your body with your arms for a moment, the reverent and loving look on Joseph’s face makes you change your mind.

“Wow,” Joseph breathes out. “You’re beautiful.” You feel your face flush even redder at the sound of Joseph’s compliment and he takes it as a cue to continue on, pressing his lips to your body until he’s kissed his way up to your neck. You squirm beneath him, core aching already for Joseph’s touch.

Your own hands come up to press against Joseph’s prominent pectorals and he gasps in surprise before he looks up from your neck and grins. “Like what you’re feeling? I can take this off for you.” He leans back and practically rips his olive-green tank top off, exposing his muscled and tanned body. You’re speechless – Joseph is beautiful. The confident grin on his face grows at your expression. “I don’t need any words from you, babe. That look is enough.”

The next few minutes feel endless in their pleasure as you and Joseph explore each other’s bodies, hands gliding up and down and lips pressing against the most sensitive spots either of you can find. Both of you end up with your clothes on the floor as you stare at each other longingly, finally ready to connect your two bodies as one.

Joseph is laid back against the bed as you hover over his straining member, his fingers digging into your plush hips. You can barely believe you’re here with him now – but you are, and he loves you. You sink down onto his cock and Joseph groans headily as your soft walls squeeze him, your own moans falling out of your lips as you adjust to the stretch.

“JoJo,” you moan, squirming as he bottoms out inside of you. It’s like nothing you’ve felt before, but you feel so full and so good. “You feel so good.”

Joseph stops himself from bucking his hips at your words and digs his fingers into your hips tighter. “I’m ready for you, baby.”

An experimental roll of your hips, and then another has you and Joseph moving in tandem in only a few moments – it was like the two of you were perfect for each other in mind and body. The emotions from the day have both of you running on high and you feel your climax coming sooner than usual. By the look on Joseph’s face and the grunts he was making, you know he’s not far behind.

“I’m close,” You hiss – Joseph doesn’t hesitate to bring one of his rough finger pads to your clit as you ride him, circling it with sloppy motions but with enough pressure that it has you crying out for him and clamping down around him as your orgasm washes over your body. Joseph cries out your name only a moment later and you feel his cock twitch as he releases himself inside of you. You collapse onto his warm chest and wrap your arms around him as both of you breathe heavily and come down from the moment.

Later, after the two of you have gotten cleaned up and shared a long conversation over several cups of tea and coffee, you find yourself in pleasant shock as Joseph presents a beautiful pearl ring to you and says, “Will you marry me?”

-

12 months later, you’re sat on the shore while your husband shows off for you in the ocean. Marrying a merman wasn’t something that came with a guide, but the two of you had more or less figured it out. Joseph’s family, though surprised and confused, were delighted once they too had come to the shore to meet you on the day after Joseph’s proposal.

You startle when you feel movement in your stomach and you place one of your hands on the round dome, feeling little feet kicking at you. Joseph notices you’ve stopped clapping for him and swims over, eyes alight in wonderment as he sees you cupping your belly.

He swims close to the edge of the sea and you inch closer until he can rest one hand opposite of yours on your bump, smiling.

“You know, I think I’ve thought of a couple names.” He says.

“How about Holly for the girl and Josuke for the boy?”

[danganronpedits-archived]

could I req a matchup? any media is fine!Im a pretty eccentric guy, I love clowns, surprises and have a soft spot for 'so bad its good' horror. Im also really interested in the paranormal ,psychology, but I've been described as that one guy that puts waaay too much effort into a shit post. I'll admit though, I mostly act like that to make up for the fact that I grew up too fast, I lack trust in the world, so barely anyone really knows that side of me. ty!

ah, yes!! i have another kin matchup anon coming up, and i think it would be interesting to see you guys talk... but yeah, let’s get into it! i’ve been really indecisive about these lately, if you were wondering why it took a while!! i’m sorry!!

first off, from pokemon, i match you with...

acerola!

to start off, acerola is definitely eccentric. at least, in the games she is ("Phew! Well, there goes my hope of beating you to smithereens and becoming Champion myself!")! she seems very energetic and a little teasing, though she mostly keeps it to herself- she’s never really hurtful, in my eyes. she’s charismatic the way i kind of see you being! just to get this out of the way, i think that she is a little more... cartoonish, and peppy, than you are- but just from the matchup, the two of you seem very similar!! we don’t know much about her stance on some of the things you listed in your interests,, but she definitely has an interest in the paranormal! after all, she adores ghost types and specialises in them! she loves surprises, and her entire trial is... kind of like a kidz bop version of a horror game! it’s not really good horror- you taking pictures with a cute little rotom camera... kinds of breaks the immersion- but i think it can still be a little unsettling, despite how warm and welcoming pokemon is as a whole! maybe you’d like that little segment, or maybe you do- i don’t know if you’ve played (ultra) sun/moon! i think acerola could also be into psychology to an extent, as she has a lot of people around her that she tries to sympathise with. in fact, while i don’t remember the scene in detail, acerola does say, "Now, Lillie, you're coming with me to do some shopping!" and... i mean, you could argue that this was rather perceptive of her, since lillie struggles with picking out things for herself. i could see you having moments like that, anon, picking up on things about others and maybe not even realising that you are!

acerola is definitely the type to get carried away on a shitpost- i don’t think that when either of you do it it’s annoying or anything, but it’s like... wow! it’s funny, and it’s got a cute little bow on top! ...something like that, you know? i think that acerola would describe herself similarly to how you do, and just- you kind of talk like an older version of her, if that makes sense? not much older, but just... a little more cautious with your wording than i think she’d be! i do think, however, that you both grew up too fast- um, i’m sorry for that by the way, anon! hope you’re doing well and taking care of yourself afjdsjf,, however, acerola is very protective of younger children (”Back at Aether House, I'm like everyone's big sister! They all really depend on me.") and whenever their safety comes into question, she gets very serious and concerned, which is a sharp contrast to her usual demeanor. the aether house, where she grew up, is an orphanage- all of this can contribute to her having to grow up fast, having to take care of others. relating to you though, anon, her seriousness at the threat of danger to her siblings is really the only glance we get at her ‘other’ side. i would say she also lacks trust in the world to an extent, and this is more of an assumption, but anon, i think you can find it hard to grow personally close with other people. acerola relies on herself to defend the younger children at the aether house, and i’m sure that she would doubt their safety if she left them behind- almost in a motherly sort of way. point is, she depends on herself, not the other people around her.

second off, from bang dream(bandori), i match you with...

kaoru seta!

once again, kaoru is definitely eccentric. she’s the kind of theater kid that’s very confident, but not overconfident to where they’re just going around bothering people. maybe you’re not the exact same kind of eccentric as her, but the two of you definitely stand out in a crowd with your personalities. appearance wise, maybe not at first, but there’s a lot to see behind initial appearances with you!!! plus, you also seem... i don’t know, but you and her have a really similar vibe in terms of being prince-ly, but still a bit feminine. not to call you girly or anything, anon ^^;. we don’t really know her stances on a lot of your interests, but a hobby of hers is reading philosophy books- i think that could be attributed to psychology, in a way! also, in of herself, kaoru is sort of a surprise simply with her presence. she does feel human to me, the way you also do, but with both of you... there’s this sort of untouchable aura. like i couldn’t even begin to measure up to you... you know? while she isn’t exactly comfortable around the paranormal or spookier things, as seen in the cursed well event story, i’d imagine that she does at least engage with the content as part of theater- essentially summed up in this quote, ”I've played the part of a ghost, have I not? I not only think so, I know so! So please, enough of this ghost nonsense!”.  she can definitely see the art in horror, ghosts and the like! in terms of clowns, i mean, kokoro is one of her best friends, sooo...

i’d also say that kaoru would put... a lot of effort into her shitposts. not only for the sake of her prince persona, but also because... as she would say, a meme so comedic... is unbelievably fleeting. point is, she strives to lift others up, and this would show in her humor as well! to an extent, she kind of is a walking and talking shitpost. i don’t mean that in a derogatory way, but maybe you could relate to... not feeling like people take you seriously, because of how you present yourself! i definitely understand that- it’s hard to be honest about that kind of thing sometimes,, plus, i’d say that like you, kaoru also grew up in a world not made for her. while we don’t know much about her past, she used to have both self esteem and confidence issues, putting on the mask of a prince to make sure others wouldn’t have to experience those same issues. acerola and her both feel protective over the people they care about, and i kind of get a similar instinct from you. she’s very bothered about things that she didn’t say in the past, and maybe you relate to that- looking back, and loathing the things you didn’t say. kaoru does seem to lack trust in the world, to an extent, as whenever she’s by herself, the facade she puts on almost completely vanishes. maybe when you’re by yourself you find yourself more solemn, too.

and lastly, from danganronpa, i match you with...

kokichi ouma!

...but i will say, you have REALLY BIG kaito momota vibes for some reason??? from these major matchups, i’ve concluded that you have purple hair in real life. ^^; that’s a joke, but kokichi came to my head right away when i read your matchup!! i bounced around a bit, but ultimately(haha) decided on him. you may need to hear me out, as... he’s a little different from the other two. kokichi’s entire gang has a clown aesthetic, and he loves surprising people, finding joy in taking them off guard- like, take one single look at the insect meet & greet. take a glance at his role in the chapter three investigation. i don’t really know where he stands on horror type things, but a lot of his actions, while dominantly pranks, can be genuinely offputting- um. see the two examples i listed a second ago. again, i don’t know his stance on the paranormal, but i do think he has an interest, or at least skill, in psychology. he’s a human lie detector, though it’s not a flawless ‘system’. kokichi is definitely eccentric, his beliefs more often than not differ from his classmates’, and many remark that it’s hard to get a grip on what he’s thinking. once again, maybe you can relate to that- especially since you’ve said that you act differently thanks to your growing up, it might be hard to really lock down a perception of you. maybe you feel safer like that- i’m not sure.

look at me in the eyes right now and tell me that kokichi doesn’t make dank memes and post them to reddit for a living. he is the spawner of surreal memes. kokichi, with all of his pranks, is easily one of the most playful and jokey characters in danganronpa. some of them can be dismissed as cheerful lies, but also... like. kokichi is the major spawn of several danganronpa memes... but that’s kaede’s lie, isn’t it? while a lot of kokichi’s past is obscured, it’s implied that he, like acerola, is an orphan. that... would definitely cause you to grow up fast- and it’s not every day that someone decides to form a clowncore gang. plus, kokichi’s distrust in the world and constant lying are most likely for his own defense. he does have a mix of compulsive and pathological lying in him, the former tending to come from when lying is necessary in your home environment. i’m not saying that you’re like that specifically, but his complete lack of belief in anyone makes it clear that yes, he has little to no trust on the world. it’s only in chapter five that kaito briefly sees past kokichi’s facade- but even then, i’m sure kaito couldn’t really understand kokichi beyond just... a feeling. a wordless sympathy. little to no one knows kokichi, since... it’s like shuichi says. he’s the embodiment of a lie. (a statement i don’t fully agree with, but it gets the point across.)

-

minor matchups time babey! from danganronpa, you also remind me very strongly of kaito momota, and somewhat of jataro kemuri, ryoma hoshi, and nagito komaeda. from 1bitheart, you remind me strongly of the yakumo twins and hiyu mekami. from pokemon, you also remind me of shauntal, phoebe, iris, and will! from my hero academia, you remind me of denki kaminara. from my little pony, you remind me of cheese sandwich and discord. from corpse party, ayumi shinozaki and seiko shinohara. from danganronpa another, satsuki iranami. from fullmetal alchemist, you remind me a bit of edward elric. from little witch academia, you remind me of sucy manbavaran. from haikyuu, you strongly remind me of satori tendo, and somewhat of bokuto kotaro! from pokemon reborn, you also strongly remind me of cain! lastly, from your turn to die, you remind me of the yabusame siblings!

...sorry that those were a little stoic! i was trying to keep them short, since there were so many ^^;. hope this was okay, anon, i admittedly wasn’t great at locking down matches for you... if you need anything changed, just let me know!

-mod tsu

[spaceskam]

who you are, who you’re meant to be

for day 5 of my 12 (actually 13 days) we have another addition to my Buffy universe! Also an excersize in “you only had one job” and that is knowing which fic is for whom. Yesterday’s was supposed to be for an anon, while this was intended for Molly. Whoops. Two for the price of one. Anyway, @chamblerstara here’s your actual gift and I hope you enjoy it!

ao3

Being alive for a few hundred years really made feelings begin to feel boring. That was the whole fun thing about fucking around with witchcraft, it gave him new things to experience. Whatever Alex Manes did to make Michael feel the way he did, however, was better than any witchcraft he’d ever messed with.

“How have you never had chocolate covered strawberries?”

“I don’t usually go out of my way to eat human food.”

“Mmm.”

Alex came towards him with a smile, a bowl of melted chocolate, and a carton of strawberries. These past few months of stealing alone time with one of the Slayers little lackeys had been some of the best months of his long life. Alex was impossible to be hardened or cryptic around. He was all sweet smiles and soft touches and dizzying kisses. He’d lived for centuries and never had he met someone who made him feel like Alex Manes.

Alex hopped up onto the counter that Michael was leaning against. Michael was stuck in a trance as he dipped the strawberry in the chocolate, holding it up to let it drip and watching it hardened before their eyes. He held his hand under it as he moved it towards Michael, guiding him to take a bite. Michael couldn’t take his eyes off him.

He wore all black, obscenely tight jeans stretched across his thighs and bits of metal stuck through his face in various places. He was a masterpiece. Michael felt unworthy. And, when he pulled the strawberry away, he leaned down and dragged his tongue over Michael’s lips, licking away the excess chocolate. He would never get over the overwhelming trust Alex had in him to be so, so close to his teeth.

“Heaven help me.”

Alex turned first and Michael had to drag his eyes off the man before looking at Isobel. She was healing nicely and had traded in her dramatic robes for something a little more modern–dramatic gowns. Her long hair was braided over her shoulder and the red dress she wore today clung to her. Michael loved seeing her like this. She was as elegant as the woman he remembered.

She also happened to be the only one who knew of the two of them. It was impossible to hide anything from her.

“Will you two ever not be engaging on my table?” she asked almost wistfully, a little pout on her lips. Alex chuckled.

“You know we don’t have many options, Isobel,” he teased. Michael was unable to put into words how fantastic it felt to see how comfortable Alex was around Isobel. Michael had to beg Isobel not to kill him for a while, but now he could even leave them alone. Not for long, but he could.

“The idea that you won’t tell your friends of your lover is sad,” she replied, striding past them to the freezer. She pulled out a neatly packaged bag of blood and went to heat it up. Their one agreement to stay apart of the group was no murdering people. It was an easy sacrifice to make for Michael as long as he had Alex.

“They would kill Michael if we told them, and then they’d kill me for hiding it for six months,” Alex said and Michael gravitated towards the sweet skin of his neck. He pressed a kiss there.

“How are you even hiding it at all? You are attached around here, it’s almost pathetic,” Isobel teased. Michael tuned her out easily, using his nose to trace Alex’s jaw. God, it was heavenly. He was heavenly.

He needed Isobel to leave them alone.

“We know how to keep your hands to ourselves.”

“Do you?”

Michael gripped Alex’s hips, pulling him closer and nipping at his neck. Alex weaved his fingers mindlessly into his hair and cradled his head in his arm. He was so lovely.

“My point is made,” Isobel sighed, taking her blood and disappearing deeper into the house. Michael moved up to kiss Alex’s lips. He was hungry and it wasn’t anything blood or strawberries could feed.

“Wait, the chocolate got hard,” Alex said.

“Yeah, that’s not the only thing.”

Alex giggled lightly and nudged him away, hopping off the counter and bringing the plate back towards the microwave.

-

“Can I stay here tonight?”

“You know I won’t say no to that,” Michael whispered. He captured Alex’s lips in another kiss for the night, each one feeling like the first one and making him feel like his body was being restarted.  Alex’s fingers weaved into his hair and slid his tongue into his mouth as Michael settled himself between his thighs.

Moments like these were everything. Isobel couldn’t bust in, neither could anyone else. It was just them and the dark. The line of sheer desire blurred into something else entirely. He felt like they were one being, like he hadn’t been whole until Alex appeared and filled the gap. Michael had decided this was love and, instead of being fearful of it, he allowed it to encompass him. It was just too easy. Alex was sweet and loving in a way that many people weren’t. He didn’t expect or want Michael to be anything more than here. 

How perfect was that?

“Mm, I’ll text Liz,” Alex whispered, grabbing his jaw gently to pull away. Michael put his face in his neck, breathing him in and kissing over his skin. Again, like every time, Michael was swaddled in a blanket of trust. 

“Text Liz what?” Michael asked, his finger tracing over Alex’s carotid artery and collar bone and peck.

“To pick me up from here in the morning,” Alex said casually, “She usually takes me to school and you picked me up tonight.”

Michael blinked a few times before putting some space between them. If anyone picked him up in the morning, they would begin putting things together that didn’t need to be put together.

“Alex, I can take you home,” Michael said. Alex sighed, combing his fingers through Michael’s hair.

“I keep thinking about what Isobel said earlier and I think she’s right. They’re gonna find out, might as well let it happen casually. I don’t want to make a big deal out of it, so maybe we can just slowly integrate it,” Alex suggested. Michael very quickly woke from his Alex-haze and sat up, losing the warm feeling of his thighs around his waist.

“What? No,” Michael said.

“They’re gonna find out eventually, don’t you want to be able to control the situation when they do?” Alex said softly. Michael jaw clenched as he stared at the boy he loved. It was frustrating. He wanted so badly to flaunt Alex as his, but he was also not trying to die. When that Slayer found out, she would kill him. Max would kill him.

He just wanted Alex. No murdering. No constant reminder that Alex wold age and Michael couldn’t. He just wanted bliss.

“Why are they gonna find out eventually?” Michael asked. Alex got all serious and sat up, taking Michael’s hand in his. He looked at him earnestly and took a breath of confidence. 

“I want you to turn me,” he said. Michael snatched his hand away, horror taking over his face.

“What? No. No, absolutely not. No. No!” Michael insisted, standing up and putting as much distance between himself and Alex as possible. Alex looked like he’d been burned. “Why would you ever say that?”

“I love you,” Alex said strongly, “I want to be with you. I don’t want to wait until I look older than you. You look like a sixteen-year-old‒I don’t want to look like a creep for being with you. I want to change now.”

Michael shook his head, gulping softly.

“You’re young, Alex,” Michael sighed, “If I did that, you’d grow to regret it and you’ll hate me and… and I can’t live with that. I can’t live knowing I took away your life.”

“You wouldn’t be taking it away, you’d be giving me a whole new life!” Alex insisted. Michael felt like he was being strangled.

“Listen, Alex. When you change, you also… change. You won’t be Alex. You’ll be soulless, you’ll be… cruel,” Michael tried. Alex gave a sweet, overwhelming smile. 

“You’re not.”

Michael closed his eyes tight, rubbing his fists against them.

“I am,” Michael clarified, “I have done horrible things.”

“The fact that you know they’re horrible and no longer do them prove that you’re not bad,” Alex explained. Michael let out a horrified laugh, putting his hands on the top of his head.

“There is no way to expect what you might turn into afterward and I refuse to take that chance,” Michael said. Alex stood up and made his way over to him, beautiful and young and alive. 

“I want to be with you for the rest of my life,” he said genuinely. Michael wanted to say me too. 

Instead, he said, “You’re young. You have no idea what you want.”

“Okay, then, you’re old,” Alex said, rubbing his palms over Michael’s bare chest, “Tell me, my love, have you ever felt this way before? Have you ever be so addicted to someone, so lost in them and lost without them? Have you ever ached so badly? Have you ever loved someone like they’re apart of you?”

Michael involuntarily gravitated towards him, his forehead resting on his. Alex’s hands cupped his face, his thumb pushing past Michael’s lips and pressing onto his dulled fangs. It was like a trigger, forcing him to show his true face. He felt it happen, felt his face transform into the one he never showed unless he had to. It was ugly in his opinion and he never liked to be ugly.

Still, Alex held him close. He traced over all the ugly lines and he pressed his thumb harder onto the now very sharp fangs. When his skin broke, Michael was far too aware. His mind swam, but he was able to pull away before he got a taste. He didn’t want to know what Alex’s blood tasted like. He wanted him as he was. He wanted him alive.

“Michael,” Alex said, though he let him turn his face away. He didn’t want to be tempted. “Answer me. Have you ever loved someone the way you love me? 

Michael took a deep, heavy breath. 

“No.”

Alex didn’t seem shocked or too pleased by this answer, which just told Michael that he didn’t even have a doubt in his mind that that’s what was happening. He seemed to know that, even in the short amount of time they’d known each other, that it was different. It was intoxicating. It was forever.

Michael gulped and squeezed his eyes shut. There was no talking his way out of this.

“I’ll think about it. You have to give me time to think about it,” Michael said through his still screwed up face. Alex nodded, grabbing his chin and kissing his cheek gently. His nose nuzzled under his jaw and he wrapped Michael in a hug.

“Take your time.”

-

Michael woke to kisses being pressed to the back of his ear and his jaw, something he wasn’t used to but something that he wanted to get used to.

“I am a vampire, Alexander, mornings are not made for me,” he grumbled, but he reveled in the way the human’s teeth sunk into his throat. They fit there, just like the way his nose pressed hard into his jaw.

“Liz is here,” Alex said, “I didn’t tell her anything, just that I was here. Gonna keep it to myself. Think about our talk, yeah?” 

Michael sighed, but nodded without opening his eyes. Alex pressed a few more kisses to his lips and his jaw and his cheeks. He kissed and kissed until Michael was smiling like mad, then stole a couple more.

“I love you,” Alex said against his skin, “I want a long, long life with you. Soul or not.”

Michael found it impossible to go back to sleep after that. He laid in bed for a long while, mulling over the idea of what Alex seemed to want. He couldn’t imagine a life without Alex. He didn’t want to live without him.

But Michael wasn’t stupid. The chance of something crucial to what made Alex Alex changing was high. Everyone changed. Sometimes they went completely off the rails and basked in something sinister inside themselves like Max. Sometimes they became in tune to the point of sadism like Isobel. And, sometimes, they just become reckless and have no consequences so they turn into a murderer out of boredom like Michael. He’d never met someone who hadn’t changed, whether it be because of the loss of a soul or the loss of mortality.

Alex was sweet and loving in a way that vampires just inherently weren’t. There wasn’t a doubt in Michael’s mind that Alex would become someone else and that just wasn’t alright. He loved Alex the way he was. He liked the cuddliness of him and he liked the way he was human. Alex had never wanted anything but to be human his entire life‒and then Michael had changed that.

“Izzy, can I talk with you?” Michael asked as he walked in to see her fiddling with something. Upon closer inspection, it was one of the keys from Alex’s keyring. He didn’t ask how she got it.

“What’s wrong?” she wondered, slowly sitting up to speak with him. He sighed, flopping down and quickly laying his head in her lap. She wove her fingers into his hair like she often did. It was easy when it was just her. For so long it had just been the two of them.

Things weren’t complicated when he was with someone he would kill for.

“Alex asked me to turn him last night,” Michael admitted.

“Did you?”

“He went to school today, didn’t he?” 

Isobel went silent for whatever reason for a moment, combing through his hair in a soothing way. He didn’t know what she was thinking. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. 

“He’s a very kind man,” she said, “You were too.”

“That doesn’t mean anything though. I was kind and naive, and then I was dead and a murderer. I don’t want him to be dead. I want him how he is and he seems so set on dying. You should’ve seen his face, it was like he’d been thinking about it for months,” Michael complained. Isobel hummed.

“Perhaps he has.”

“When I touch him, it’s all warmth. He’s warm and cozy and human. I don’t want that to go away,” Michael said. She went quiet again for a moment, thinking.

“Alex alive is a limited thing,” Isobel told him. He huffed a breath. 

That was the most achingly true fact in the world. He wanted Alex forever, but he also wanted him living. Michael had outlived many of his previous lovers, but he couldn’t say that he’d outlived someone he loved as much as Alex. He was quite certain it would hurt much more, but he could do it if it meant Alex had no regrets.

“I just don’t want to curse him.”

“Is it a curse?”

“Yes! I can’t go outside during the day, I drink blood, I can never get a legitimate job or have legitimate friends. There are so many things about this that make it a curse and I don’t want him to regret it,” Michael explained. Isobel poked his cheek and grasped his chin.

“What does Alex want?”

“He thinks he wants to be changed, but I don’t think he’s thought about it long enough.”

“How badly does he want it?”

“He seemed to want it badly.”

“Then what’s stopping him for going somewhere else to get what you won’t give him and risking dying painful and alone?” 

Michael stared up at her and the horrifying truth she gave him. His stomach churned. He didn’t know if Alex would do that, but he was scared to find out. He was scared of a lot of things.

He hadn’t been scared for someone other than Isobel in decades and it was a horrific feeling.

“I just don’t want to take away his life,” Michael said.

“It’s his choice to make.”

And it was.

-

“I missed you.”

“You were gone for seven hours.”

“Seven hours too many.”

Alex crawled into bed beside Michael, settling into his side and peppering him with kisses. Michael closed his eyes and fell a little more in love with him.

“Did you think about our talk at all?” Alex asked, throwing his leg over Michael’s hip. Michael took a deep breath and held it. He remembered the first time he realized he didn’t actually have to breathe anymore. He remembered when it went from being a necessity to something he just did because he was used to the motions.

Alex poked his stomach whenever he held the breath for over a minute straight.

“I’ve thought about it,” Michael said. He felt like he was about to jump off a cliff. He was so, so scared everything was going to change. But he was more scared that Alex would do something stupid. 

Alex propped himself up on his elbow, peering down at him with an eager smile like he already knew what the answer would be. And perhaps he did. Alex wasn’t exactly used to getting what he wanted in most aspects of his life, but he was used to it when it came to Michael.

“And?”

“And,” Michael said, reaching up and touching his warm cheek. His chest ached at the idea that one day it would no longer be warm. “And I want to wait until you graduate high school. If you still want to, then I will. If you change your mind, then I want. Think of it as a compromise.”

“Why so long away?” Alex asked, eyebrows furrowed. It wasn’t really that long. Alex would be graduating in just four short months.

“I want to make sure you’re extremely sure. And I want you to finish high school. You won’t be able to go out during the day time after that‒I want you to soak it up while you can. Enjoy it. Enjoy your friends and hope they don’t kill us after,” Michael told him. He resigned to losing this battle. At least he would have Alex.

Alex smiled. “Alright. That sounds like it’s okay.”

“Good to hear.”

Alex moved down to kiss him and Michael hoped to whoever was listening that this wasn’t a mistake. 

[miamistax]

Read this. Someone you know has lived these same experiences. This must end now.

David Gamble, Jr.

I grew up in Reno, Nevada.

In third grade a boy confidently tells me and my brother that his mom said black people cannot swim because our muscles are different than those of white people.

In middle school, standing among a group of white classmates talking video games, I am the only black child. One classmate expresses surprise that my family has enough money to afford a PlayStation.

In high school, I am the only black kid among a group of friends. When sharing drinks in my presence they frequently tell each other not to “niggerlip” the bottles. Even though I object, they continue to use the phrase.

In high school, my brother is at a teen house party that gets broken up by police, a common occurrence. The kids at the party scatter, also a common occurrence. My brother, the only black child in attendance, is the only one on whom a police officer draws a firearm to get him to stop running away. He is 14.

In high school, a group of my white friends frequently sneak on to the outdoor basketball courts at an athletic club to play. They can usually play for hours, including with club members. On the two occasions I attend, club members complain and we are ejected from the club within minutes.

In high school, I am excited about black history month and am talking to a friend about black inventors. My friend snorts and says, “Black people have never invented anything.”

In high school, as graduation approaches, many of my white friends tell me that I am lucky. They tell me that due to my skin color, I will get into any college I want.

I remain in Reno for college.

During college an employer keeps food for employees in the break room refrigerator. One morning I decided to have microwaveable chicken wings for breakfast. The employer tells me I might not want to eat that for breakfast with my skin color. The employer immediately apologizes.

In college I am standing in a group of white friends on campus. A white acquaintance of one of my friends approaches to chat. The acquaintance tells a story about something that frustrated him and then reels off a series of expletives ending with the word, “nigger.” None of my friends corrects him.

In college I visit an antique shop in Auburn, California with my girlfriend, who is white, and her parents. The shopkeeper follows me around the store whistling loudly as I browse, until we leave.

I move to San Diego, California for law school.

In law school, during a discussion in my criminal law class, a white classmate suggests that police officers should take a suspect’s race into account when determining whether there is reasonable suspicion to believe that an individual is committing a crime.

The weekend of my law school graduation my family comes to San Diego. I go to the mall with my brother and sister and visit the Burberry store. Two different employees follow us around the store – never speaking to us – until we leave.

After law school, I return to Reno.

A co-worker jokingly calls me “King David” upon seeing me each day. I joke that I’m not treated like a king. The co-worker then begins to call me “Slave David” each time we encounter one another. When I ask the co-worker to stop because it is hurtful, I am told by my co-worker that this is a problem that I have in my head.

I attend a pub crawl with friends. We end up at a party in a hotel suite in downtown Reno. I am greeted by a white man at the door who loudly expresses surprise that I am an “educated negro” upon hearing me speak.

I walk a friend who is a white woman from a restaurant to her car because it is night time. As we stand by the car chatting, a police officer pulls up and shines a light on us, asking if everything is okay. Once my friend confirms, the officer drives away. I tell her that he was worried about her, she teasingly says, “Oh yeah, because you’re so scary.” Later, I tell another white friend I felt racially profiled by the officer. My friend shrugs and says, “I don’t know man, that’s a stretch.”

A white friend tells me that white voters have become upset at black people because of black people’s liberal use of food welfare benefits. When I point out that more whites than blacks receive welfare benefits in the U.S., my friend expresses confusion at how that could be the case.

I leave a downtown restaurant with my wife. As we walk along the river a homeless man appears to be having a schizophrenic episode, engaging auditory hallucinations. Upon seeing me, he becomes lucid and begins to shout the word “nigger” over and over.

I discover that one of my clients does not want me to represent him as his Public Defender because he does not want a black attorney. I am given the option to withdraw as counsel. I do not.

Last year, I am at a barbecue chatting with a white acquaintance who asks if I have ever experienced racism. When I say it is a nearly daily occurrence, the acquaintance retorts, without missing a beat, “Bullshit.”

Two months ago. I am driving to lunch with the black teen I mentor. At a red light a white woman crosses the street. As I begin to drive, she turns around and screams at us, “F**k you f****ing nigger!”

Before any of these instances, my family of origin moved to Reno, Nevada from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania in 1984.

My mother recently told me that when I was a very young child my parents hired a company to remove a tree from our front lawn. Two white men showed up and removed the tree. One of them carved a swastika into the stump. My father had to confront him and ask him to remove it.

Before that, my now 93 -year-old grandfather served in the Army National Guard and was stationed in the U.S. south. Despite being active duty, he was not allowed to eat in restaurants due to “whites only” signage. He had to wait for fellow Guardsmen to bring him food outside.

Not long before that, my family were slaves, owned by Americans of English and Irish descent, which is why – despite being primarily of African descent – I have an English last name.

This is my experience of being black in America. To be black in America is to be told over and over that you are not good enough, that you do not belong, that you are genetically unfit, that your physical presence is undesirable, and that everything about you – right down to your lips – is wrong. It is absolutely true that everyone experiences hardships in life, but the psychological weight of being told both explicitly and implicitly, on a daily basis, that your very existence is objectionable can at times feel unbearable.

And despite this experience, I still love my country, my state, and my city. Despite my experience, I would not choose to be anything other than a black American. The history of black people in this country is one of struggle and triumph. Our people were brought to this country as slaves and against all odds, in the face of seemingly insurmountable obstacles, have made our mark. Through slavery, poll taxes, literacy tests, redlining, and black codes we have persevered. Through the unspeakable horrors of mass lynchings; the Tuskegee syphilis experiments; and the massacres at Tulsa and Rosewood, we have persevered.

Bass Reeves, Dovey Johnson Roundtree, Sarah Boone, Oscar Micheaux, Shirley Chisholm, Dorie Miller, Susie King Taylor, Georgia Gilmore, Octavius Catto, Jack Johnson, Garrett Morgan, James W.C. Pennington. These are just a handful of extraordinary and oft forgotten black Americans who helped to mold and preserve the American Dream. These individuals and their accomplishments should not be regarded as “black history,” but rather as American history.

I am an American of privilege, which makes me an African American of great privilege. I am an attorney. I live in a safe neighborhood. My children do not worry about their next meal. I can afford child care. My family can afford personal vehicles. If my children become sick, I can take them to the doctor. If I am this privileged, and these have been my experiences, primarily in my own hometown, often with friends and acquaintances who are fond of me, and of whom I remain fond even now; just imagine what daily life must be like for a black person in this country who does not enjoy my level of privilege.

The protests in the streets of America are certainly about the killing of George Floyd, but not just about George Floyd. They are about countless black men, women, and children for whom the punishment did not fit the crime – if indeed there was a crime at all. We live in a country where, in order to recall what life under Jim Crow felt like, many white Americans must pick up a history book. Meanwhile, many black Americans need only pick up a telephone, and call their parents.

When we as people of color share our experiences, we are not doing so to score political points, “play the race card,” get sympathy, assign blame, or to make you feel bad about yourself. We are asking you for help. We are asking you to join us in the ongoing fight against racism in our country, because we cannot do it alone. It will take Americans of every stripe to eradicate racism from American society.

I am now asking for your help. Please seek truth and knowledge. When sharing information, please check your sources and make sure that they are reliable. Try to place what is happening today into a historical context. Read about systemic racism and anti-racism. When your friends of color tell you that racism is real and affecting their lives, believe them and then, if you can, do something about it.

My children are likely to attend the same middle school and high school that I did. It is my great hope for them that those around them have the knowledge, compassion, and guidance to know better than to daily deluge them with words that make them doubt their intelligence, their beauty, and their worth as human beings based only on the color of their skin; and instead judge them by the content of their character.

It is for all of the above reasons, and so many more that we proudly say #blacklivesmatter

[pleasureactivism]

An Annotated Playlist to Accompany Your Reading of Pleasure Activism

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2eoQwDJipqb2BpIZqCIscQ?si=bRg4s4uhSqOXw02Ai2Pc2Q

In Section Three: A Circle of Sex, there is an essay, a compilation of interviews, titled “The Highs, Lows, and Blows of Casual Sex.” Upon reading this title, I immediately thought of one of my favorite songs at the moment, “High Highs to Low Lows” by Lolo Zouaï. I put this song on while I read this essay, and while not directly about sex, the concept of peaks and valleys really resonated with the text. “High Highs and Low Lows” set the mood for me to engage with “The Highs, Lows, and Blows of Casual Sex,” not just because of the lyrics but also the multidimensional sound and authenticity and vulnerability of Zouaï’s voice. Singing in both English and French, she covers so many deeply human feelings, from sexy to vulnerable, cocky to depressed, sensual to silly. Intentionally pairing this song with this reading (instead of just putting a random playlist on shuffle) gave me the idea of creating a playlist- this book needs a soundtrack, which I have attempted to create below. 

A compilation of R&B, hip hop, pop, Latinx music and some 1970s Black feminist icons (namely, Nina Simone and Diana Ross), most of these songs are performed by people that identify as women of color, partly because that is in line with Pleasure Acitivism which “center[s] the experiences of Black women” and partly because that is what I often find myself listening to. However, as was true for adrienne maree brown and her book, this soundtrack “includes a few voices that are not Black or women-identified but that I trust in the human experience of finding pleasure beyond oppression” (brown 5). This playlist was inspired by and accompanied much of my reading of much of Pleasure Activism, shifting and growing as I read, enhancing the experience and adding meaning to both the text and the music. The songs in the soundtrack can be listened to while reading any section of the book, but there are some that deal directly with themes of the book, and for those I have identified a “pairing,” or specific essay or section that I recommend pairing with that song. The songs on the soundtrack are in the order of the recommended paired sections. It should be noted that given the time frame of this project and the fact that I am simultaneously finishing up my undergraduate senior thesis, I was only able to annotate a select few of the songs on the playlist, but in no way are the songs that are not described any less important, relevant, or magical. 

Oh My God by Sevdaliza 

Pairing: “The Legacy of ‘Uses of the Erotic,’ A Conversation with Cara Page” OR the Introduction to Section One, “Who Taught You to Feel Good?”

I originally added this song to the playlist because of its sound, described in one article as “a blend of trip-hop, avant pop, and electronica,” and its lyrics about self-discovery, realization, hope and dreams (Ingvaldsen 2020). Savdalize asks “Who should I be?” and notes that “I view myself from above/Roamin’ in the fields of hope/Will it make or break me/As my dreams are heavy, they outweigh me.” These comments about her exploration of self and the intensity of her dreams initially led to its inclusion on the playlist. However, after finding an interview with Sevdaliza, I realized just how crucial this song is for Pleasure Activism’s soundtrack. She is Iranian Dutch and a refugee who, according to the interview, “acnkowledg[es] the oppressive regimes and institutions of the world in an effort to reflect peace and solidarity through her aural artform” (Ingvaldsen 2020). In the interview, Sevdaliza says she “believe[s] in collective energy,” a concept not only explored in Pleasure Activism but also in our course throughout the semester. Additionally, she says that “heritage stands for a gift of profound insight, wisdom, and love. My heritage to me is like an inner-oracle. The one who knows. It is a mesmerizing voice, that becomes more clear as I am close to my authentic self. My heritage also connects me with deep feminine instincts; the wise woman within” (Ingvaldsen 2020). This connection to her heritage and ancestors reminded me of brown’s exploration of her own “personal pleasure lineage” and encouragement that her readers do the same (brown 21). Sevdaliza says, “our voices are meant to be heard, our stories meant to be shared,” a concept embodid by brown in Pleasure Activism. 

Feeling Good by Nina Simone 

Pairing: “The Sweetness of Salt, by Alexis Pauline Gumbs”

Video by India.Arie

Pairing: “Pussy Power, by Favianna Rodriguez”

Formation by Beyoncé

Pairing: “Wherein I Write about Sex” OR “The Pleasure of Living at the Same Time as Beyoncé Giselle Knowles-Carter”

“High Highs to Low Lows” by Lolo Zouaï

Pairing: “The Highs, Lows, and Blows of Casual Sex”

How Deep Is Your Love (feat. Yebba) by PJ Morton 

Pairing: “Feelmore, A Conversation with Nenna Joiner”

Girls Need Love (with Drake)- Remix by Summer Walker

Pairing: “Liberating Your Fantasies” or “The Highs, Lows, and Blows of Casual Sex”

Girls Need Love is a seductive, passionate, and honest piece in which Walker creates a personal narrative about her desires for sex and love while also grappling with the double standard that “girls” can’t be sexually liberated. She pushes back against the societal norms that “girls can’t never say they want it/girls can’t never say how/girls can’t never say they need it/girls can’t even say now.” She also stresses that her desire for casual sex is okay, a topic which brown analyzes in Highs, Lows, and Blows of Casual Sex” (“I don’t need a reason baby/Please don’t get in your feelings”). Another soulful R&B track, this song has a simple production with a main focus on the vocals. 

BROWN SKIN GIRL (feat Blue Ivy Carter) by Beyoncé, Saint Jhn, Wizkid 

Pairing: “The Pleasure of Living at the Same Time as Beyoncé Giselle Knowles-Carter” OR “Wherein I Write about Sex” OR “Black Woman Wildness by Junauda Petrus”

Q.U.E.E.N. (feat. Erykah Badu) by Janelle Monáe

Pairing: “Fly as Hell, A Conversation with Sonya Renee Taylor”

Multi-Love by Unknown Mortal Orchestra

Pairing: “On Nonmonogamy” 

Multi-Love is a song about polyamory, full of intimacy, vulnerability, and even discomfort and torment. Despite these intense feelings that are on display in Ruban Nielson’s (the lead singer’s) voice and in the lyrics, the instrumental aspect of the song is lighter and catchy, consisting of an upbeat keyboard tune and light, quick drum beats. These components come together to create a non-pretentious, spiritual, futuristic song that touches on many of the same topics as Pleasure Activism. For example, he talks about god, asking, “who is your god? Where is she?” Similarly, adrienne maree brown said that she “think[s] a lot about what god is, how god is, and where we are relating to and running from and surrendering to god” (brown 7). He sings about transitioning between single-love and multi-love (“We were one, then become three”), which reminded me of brown’s comments that “nonmonogamy tends to suit [her] best, even if [she is] occasionally focused on one lover” and her further analysis of multi-love in the subsection “On Nonmonogamy” (brown 8, 409). And finally, he talks about alludes to the non-binaryness of gender: “she doesn't want to be a man or a woman” (though the use of the pronoun “she” is somewhat troubling in this case). All in all, this song that is somehow at once crystal clear and mysteriously muffled belongs on the soundtrack because of its soulful, groovy nature, relevant lyricism and personal discovery about love, spirituality, vulnerability, and meaning. As a side note, I also felt like it fits well because Ruban Nielson’s delivery has been compared to that of Prince’s, who brown dedicates the book to. 

The Other Woman by Nina Simone

Pairing: “Being Second”

Golden by Jill Scott

I’m Coming Out by Diana Ross

Universe by Ambar Lucid

La Negra Tiene Tumbao by Celia Cruz

Pairing: “On Fear, Shame, Death, and Humor, A Conversation between the Rocca Family and Zizi” OR “On the Pleasures of Wardrobe, A Conversation with Maori Karmael Holmes”

Beyond being an absolute Afro-Cuban and Latin music icon, and the Queen of Salsa, Celia Cruz is known for her fashion style; she always had on colorful wigs, sequins, crazy high heels, and incredible makeup (for this reason her song is paired with “On the Pleasures of Wardrobe”). This song was chosen because of its multifaceted nature; it spans the genres of jazz, salsa, reggae, and hip hop. She talks about the style, attitude, swag and sexiness of a black woman (in Spanish). Igniting the spark of pride in Latinx and Black identities for many, “La Negra Tiene Tumbao” is a timeless anthem about being proud of who you are, embracing blackness, and never moving out of the way for anybody. 

Pelo Suelto by Gloria Trevi 

The Pleasure Principle by Janet Jackson

February 3rd by Jorja Smith

Satisfaction Guaranteed by Junglepussy

This song is lush and deep as it envelopes you into its mesmerizing tune. Junglepussy’s slow, intense words of confidence and encouragement to feel fully, both spiritually and physically, wash over the listener like a wave (“Yeah, I’m the brown hottie with the body, looking like Rum Spice… Relax, as the aura ease you/In the flesh, let the physical please you”). 

Soul Liberator by Kraak and Smaak feat. Sanguita

Feeling Myself by Nicki Minaj feat. Beyoncé

Cranes in the Sky by Solange 

Hurry by Teyana Taylor feat. Kanye 

Mujer Latina by Thalía

A Quién Le Importa by Thalía

I’m Every Woman by Whitney Houston 

                                                           Works Cited

Ingvaldsen, Torsten. “Sevdaliza Returns With New Protest Song ‘Oh My God.’” HYPEBEAST, HYPEBEAST, 30 Jan. 2020, hypebeast.com/2020/1/sevdaliza-oh-my-god-single-stream-premiere.

LS