#does this make me a furry? I actually don’t know

[jabberwocky-jab]

I think that this man perminatly altered my brain chemistry.

I know that saying that he should have stayed a beast is such a milk toast take by now but damn why they gotta rob us like that.

[lass-us-slay]

So I read a prompt about how Wonder Woman found Danny in a trash can (don’t remember which one) and I was bored.

So I took that lil info and made it into an AU.

So basically, Danny get yeeted into this unknown universe and has no where to live. And no where to live means no money. No money means no food. No food means Danny can’t keep his human half sustained.

So what does he do?

Decides to not change into a human and live in a trash can.

Yes you heard that right, live in a trash can.

Because he’s a ghost, he doesn’t have to worry about the germs and stuff. But that doesn’t mean he lives in just any trash can! He lives in a clean one ☝️

AND he also decorated it with his name so other people know it’s his!

And so Danny has been here for a while now and realizes

Holy shit there’s hero’s here- you know what, why doesn’t he have hero’s back home?!

And being minorly annoyed jealous (but he’s never admitting that)he thought:

Well since there’s hero’s here already, guess I’m not needed.

.

.

.

Good. I’m tired af

And so Danny caries on his life, being content with his trash can and scaring whoever comes into his alley. It’s fun. Sure he sometimes needs to ugh overshadow people to feed his human side, but other than that.

It’s going great.

But Danny doesn’t realize that with Amity gone (or smth, you choose) which was his haunt, he slowly makes the trash can into his new haunt.

And slowly but surely, Danny’s beloved haunt trash can starts to become other worldly kinda.

Yk because of the ectoplasm.

So now Danny’s lovely trash can haunt has more space inside and- Hey Danny can actually sleep in it better!! And he got some company too!

In the form of blob ghosts.

Two actually.

They keep his trash can clean and help purifying some corrupted ectoplasm that he finds. Because for some reason this universe’s ectoplasm seems half way artificial and tastes a bit weird. Which is where the blob ghosts help out in.

Everything was great.

Danny was loving the trash can life style.

He has two blob ghosts friends. Which he named Sam and Tucker, and yea they couldn’t talk but that was fine.

He wasn’t lonely, he wasn’t. He had two very much talking friends like Sam and Tucker.

However one day two weirdly dressed people- oh they were hero’s.

Well anyway they found him, one woman stripper and one furry guy.

But it was on accident! He was just peaking out of his beloved haunt trash can, and they spotted him.

He stared, they stared back.

Then the woman stripper asked him questions, even when he said:

“Don’t mind me, have a nice day!”

But they just kept bother him and giving him weird looks and glances.

Which- rude.

Didn’t they see his mark on his haunt trash can? Obviously it means it’s his home, so they shouldn’t be bothering him still. He’s safe as can be.

Plus.

It’s not like he’s looking at them in suspicion and weirdness, I mean look at them! What kinda cheep knock off vampire fury mix and American stripper style clothing are those!

They should mind their own business!

———

Just a silly lil drawing of this lmao, don’t mind me.

[retiredteabag]

The eyes of the beholder

my masterlist

Sukuna genuinely does not understand the concept of physical insecurity.

He has pride unrivaled by any, his assurity never wavers, and despite his unique appearance, he does not consider himself strange.

Additionally, Sukuna has a hard time putting himself in the shoes of others. He deems himself perfect. You are his favored one, so he attributes the same to you.

He sees you as the height of beauty and never entertains a different notion. It would never come to his mind.

What? You think he's wrong when he says your beauty is unparalleled? You think him a liar? You don't trust his judgment? Truly, he does not comprehend insecurity.

"Not everything is about you, Kuna." You spin around in one of the estate's halls of mirrors and run you hands over the subtle stretch marks that appear on your hips.

You had been trying on formal attire for one of the estate's events, something both you and Sukuna hated. He could likely feel any unhappy emotion that permeated your space.

You never enjoyed having to critique whether or not something was flattering on your body and Sukuna was no help as he wouldn’t allowed criticism of you.

He thought it was a waste of time because to him, it all looked appealing.

That, and you both hated events. Balls, Galas, Auctions, the whole gambit. None of it suited your interests, and The King thought them a disturbance.

You finally pulled on your original clothing, ruffling it this way and that so it would fall just right, and stepped out from behind the hall's flowing curtains.

"You wound me when you say things like that." Sukuna had his head leaned back against the wall with his eyes closed.

"I'll let everyone know just how well I can wound their King." You scoff and roll you eyes.

"Heavens, don’t they know?” He sits up. All four of his red eyes glower at you as if you've cast some kind of spell his way. "Why does this upset you so? Haven't I said that flaws hold no residence within you?"

Your lips are pulled into a frown. You know he couldn’t possibly understand, at first, it felt somewhat invalidating. His mindset was so far from yours, of course he would think it skewed.

"Don't you just think that because I have unfortunately found favor with you?" You begin to fold the options that the seamstresses had brought you as he huffs at your choice of words. "You were sculpted perfectly as you know, you and I are different."

He grumbles, having heard your complaints before. But you continue before he can take issue with it.

"My skin has these markings, and my thighs touch when I stand, my frame is far from ideal-" You turn to him now, "-and I cannot always love how things fit me as you do."

It's not that you're actually upset, just somewhat flummoxed by The King of Curses mindset.

Sukuna had sat up as you spoke, and now his posture bends toward you. He wears the silliest face you have ever possibly seen him produce and it almost makes you laugh.

His mouth is slightly open, lip arched, his eyes are wide but his brows are pulled together at your words and you could guess that he has never been so confused.

"What?" You almost giggle.

"By God, you care entirely too much."

You have to take a deep breath before he continues, "Your skin? What is it wrong with your skin? I quite like your skin. Would you rather I find you a furry pelt you can wear?"

It's moments like these that remind you of how silly this man is. You shake your head, but he continues, slowly, bewildered.

"Your... thighs touch? I see not how that could be an issue. Do not my thighs touch as well? How is it you are able to invent these things to be bothered by?"

Although you had been frustrated a moment before, you know he has a point. He had lived through many more centuries, it very well might have seemed strange to worry over such things.

Sukuna stands, coming closer without pause, and tugs on the draping of your garb. "What formula are you using to decide what looks good and what does not?" His hands find your body and squeeze over you in an almost ticklish way.

It was not sexual, it was not uncomfortable either. He was simply feeling you. He loved your being, whatever shell you presented in. Eventually, his palm came up and engulfed the top of your head, his fingers dangled by your eyes. "Hmmm, I cannot understand. Anything would be flattering if it was put on you."

A part of you wanted to murmur, "That's just what you're saying." But you knew Sukuna, and you knew he meant it. The concept that you might hold his same mindset was an impossibility at that moment in the hall of mirrors.

But you had many other moments to share with your King and believe me when I say, that man could be convincing.

[marauder-misprint]

would u write abt some angsty (mybe w a happy ending?) w remus, please? if possible maybe smtg like the bet trope, im soo down bad with bet tropes, 😔😔😔 im sorry if its a burden, and thank you for spending ur time reading this

You said "bet trope" and I said bet. So it's more fluff than angst... oops? I'll try to get more angst with Remus soon

Conducive

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

additional content

4.7k words

cw: fluff, lil angst,

“Moons, how is it that you’ve never been kissed, yet everyone calls you Casanova?” Sirius asks at dinner in the Great Hall one evening.

Remus raises his eyebrows but doesn’t look away from his plate.

“I respect women?” he offers. 

“We all respect women here. But come on, even Peter’s kissed Mary,” James adds.

Remus looks up at his friends. “I’m here for an education. Dumbledore was kind enough to let me be here; least I can do is focus. You three are distraction enough.”

“I just think you could do with some more… distractions,” Sirius says, waving his fork around as a prop to make his point. 

“If I wanted a female distraction, I’d have no issues obtaining it.”

“No issues, huh?” Peter asks. “Care to prove it?”

Remus shot him a glare. “Did you miss the part where I said if I wanted it?”

“I don’t see how you don’t want it.”

“Wormy’s got a point,” James says.

“Let me rephrase: If I needed a female distraction,” Remus says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sure, I want it from time to time, but if anyone else found out about my furry little secret, I’d be out of here. So I’m making the most of my time.”

“No one is going to find out!” Sirius says. “Have. Some. Fun.”

“You lot found out.”

“We live with you.”

“Still. You don’t think if I got involved with someone that it would take them that long? It was hard enough lying to you. What if I start to actually like someone? It’d be impossible.”

“Then don’t like them. Just get them to like you enough to kiss them and then ditch them,” Sirius suggests, earning himself a glare from Remus.

“That just sounds cruel.”

“More cruel than you denying yourself feminine company?”

“I’m Casanova, remember? I get plenty of company.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I still think you should prove it,” Peter says. “Do what Pads suggested.”

“What?”

“Get a girl.”

“Keep her ‘round long enough to get off and then you jet. Easy ‘nough, yeah?” James clarifies for Remus, given his mildly confused look.

“No,” Remus says firmly. 

“What if we made a bet out of it?” Sirius asks, leaning forward. 

That got Remus’ attention.

“Okay, then what do I get out of it? When I win.” 

“If, and only if, you can get a girlfriend and snog the living daylights out of her, we will… uh… willingly study with you in the library for finals. We’ll be complacent participants, helping you and ourselves. As you try to drag us to do every year,” Sirius says. He pauses as the other two nod. “And if you fail, butterbeers are on you for the rest of the year.”

Remus snorts. “So if I do it, I just get company in the library and you benefit. But if I lose, I’m financially ruined?” 

“More incentive,” Peter retorts. 

“You’re on,” Remus says, offering his hand for Sirius to shake. He does. “If I wasn’t sure I could do it, I’d be asking for better terms.” 

“Wait!” James interrupts with Remus and Sirius still mid-shake. “I feel like we should pick who it has to be. Otherwise you could just ask Marlene to snog you.”

Remus makes a face. “She’s dating Dorcas, you know this.”

“No, no, he has a point,” Peter says. “Either of them would snog you if you said it was for a bet, especially if it means we,” he gestures to him, James and Sirius, “lose said bet.”

“Fine. Pick the girl. For the love of Godric, pick someone single and semi-tolerable.”

The boys scan the hall, not paying attention to house. Their eyes land on you. All three boys seemed to be in agreement before any of them voiced your name. 

“Her,” James says, pointing at you.

You were just as perpetually single as Remus, although he didn’t know what your reason for being so was. It wasn’t like boys never approached you, offering to pay for your drinks at Hogsmeade or to stand by you at the next Quidditch match, but the boys always walked away looking a bit down. You shot them down. Every single one of them.

So in the boys’ attempt to get him to prove his ability to charm a girl, they also wanted to see a miracle. From the grins on their faces, they know it’s going to be impossible.

“So you want my financial ruin?”

“I want either want butterbeer or you to get fucking laid,” Sirius says coolly. “It’s a win-win for me.”

“We said nothing about me getting laid!” Remus exclaims, panicking. “We said kiss, snog, neck, whatever you want to call it. Not laid.”

James laughs, “If you can get a snog out of her, you’re definitely getting laid.”

“I hate that I shook on this already,” Remus groans. He knows he has no way out of this now. 

---

You are blissfully unaware of the bet the Marauders have going. You have no reason to think that you are of any concern to them, besides that Remus now occasionally says hello to you in passing. If anything, it feels like the other three are purposefully avoiding you, not that that matters to you. It’s preferable that way. You had always found Remus to be the most tolerable of them, but that didn’t mean you were friends or spoke to him all that often. Right now, it meant that you said hi back to him.

You are studying in the library when Remus comes up and asks if you’d mind if he shared a table with you. There are other tables available, but you agree. You are struggling with your Transfiguration essay and if it comes to it, you’re almost positive you could ask him for help. Until then, you work near each other in silence. That is, until someone else joins your table. 

Andrew Lark, a boy in your house, sits across from you. 

“You going to Hogsmeade this weekend?” he asks. 

“No,” you say shortly, not looking up from your essay, although you do stop writing. You don’t want to write the wrong thing down because Andrew was talking.

“Do you want to? I’d love to take you.”

“No thank you, Andrew.”

“Come on, love. Let me take you out.”

“I have no desire to go to Hogsmeade this weekend, nor do I want to go out with you.”

“Baby, we’d have-” he starts to say.

“Lark, she said no,” Remus says calmly, having stopped working as soon as Andrew approached the table. 

Andrew shot Remus an annoyed look. “Wasn’t talking to you, Lupin.”

“I know. But you weren’t listening to her.”

“This doesn’t involve you.”

Remus scoffs. “You interrupted my studying by being here. I’d say I’m semi-involved.”

“Then sit elsewhere,” Andrew says, before turning back to you. “Last chance? It’d be more fun than you’re imagining.”

You give Remus a sideways glance. He’s looking at you, waiting for your response as much as Andrew is. 

“Surprise, surprise, Remus is right. I said no.” You give Remus a quick smile before turning back to your essay.

Andrew rolls his eyes and stands up. “Think about it, dove. My offer will always stand.”

Then he walks away. You and Remus both return to your silent working. You feel Remus’ eyes on you every once in a while; you can also tell he’s looking at you from when he pauses his writing, letting his quill just hover above the ink pot longer than a person normally would. 

“So what do you have against Hogsmeade?” he asks after a few minutes. 

You snort. “Oh, nothing really. Andrew’s been asking me to go with him for months and I’d really rather not go with him. Plus, Slughorn’s essay? Haven’t even started that.”

Remus nods with a breath of relief. “Good, I don’t know how anyone can actually not like Hogsmeade.” He pauses. “Would you like company when you work on that essay?”

The question catches you off guard. You look up at him and you’re sure the shock is evident on your face. 

“I, uh, can’t stop anyone from being in the library,” you say, feeling uncertain.

“Well, no,” he chuckles. “But if you’d rather work alone…”

You don’t respond right away; you’re considering it. Remus wasn’t a bother. You didn’t know why he would give up a Hogsmeade trip to be in the library with you though. You knew he usually accompanied his boisterous friends to the village.

“If it’s just you, I suppose company could be nice.” A small smile is playing at your lips in a way Remus has never seen before. “If you’re thinking of bringing the rest of your little gang with you, I’d rather you stay away then.”

Remus chuckles. “Those gits will be off in the village. Possibly pestering Lark.” He sends a wink your way.

You shake your head as you look back down at your essay, but there’s an undeniable smile on your face now. Remus sees it as a success. Maybe with a little persuading from him, the others would let Lark know he needed to back off of you and you’d be free from his pursuits. 

Come Saturday, you and Remus are back at the same table. Except he’s sitting across from you and reading as opposed to working on his own assignments.

Curious, you ask, “Weren’t you assigned this essay too?”

“Finished it.”

“And you don’t have anything else to work on?”

“No. That’s why I’m reading.” He flourishes his book for emphasis.

“So you gave up going to Hogsmeade for…” Your voice lilts like you’re asking a question.

“To keep you company while you work.”

“I work alone all the time. I’m usually more productive that way.”

“Maybe you just haven’t had company conducive to efficiency.”

“Who talks like that?” you laugh. “Company conducive to efficiency.”

Remus smiles at you and sets his book down. “I’m just saying! Some people are more of a distraction while others let you do your thing. James and Sirius? Distractions. Peter… He goes back and forth between the two.”

“And I suppose you’re conducive for them.”

“Most of the time. Others, I’m as bad as they are.”

He picks his book back up to continue reading and you return to your essay. The library is silent except for the scratching of your quill and the occasional turning of pages by Remus. You sneak a few glances at him when you finish a sentence or a paragraph, and you catch yourself full on staring at him when you finish. As you put your work away, you clear your throat to get his attention.

“I suppose you being here was conducive, but I feel bad that you didn’t go to Hogsmeade.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t. Sometimes I need a break from certain people.”

“Then let me make it up to you. Let’s go to Hogsmeade together tomorrow.” You pause and blush at what you just said. “If you want to, of course, and don’t have anything else planned. I just thought that, because you didn’t go today and tomorrow will be less busy since everyone goes today.” You feel yourself rambling which makes you blush harder.

“Yeah, okay. That’d be nice. Meet you in the Great Hall after breakfast? Or lunch? I’m really okay with either.”

“I’m not a morning person,” you say with a chuckle. “We could get lunch in Hogsmeade?”

“Oh, okay. Then meet by the Grand Entrance around noon?”

“Sounds like a plan, Lupin. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As you walk away from him, he can’t help but smile. This was going better than planned. He didn’t have to ask you out; you asked him. And all he had to do was not be forward about it with you. Now, he just had to work up to kissing you, and then snogging. 

You’re more nervous than you expected to be in the morning. You had never been on a date before, and you weren’t even sure if this would count as one. Your roommates were confused as to why you didn’t go to Hogsmeade yesterday with them but were going today.

“It’s just backwards!” one had tried to explain when they heard of your plan. “Everyone goes to Hogsmeade on Saturday and does homework on Sunday!”

“Which leads to Hogsmeade being packed and then the library being packed. It makes sense to go today.”

You purposefully left out that you were meeting Remus and going with him. Just as he hadn’t told his friends that he was making progress with you. For now, until something proper came out of it, this Hogsmeade visit would be something you shared only with each other.

Remus is waiting for you when you finally leave your dorm. The walk to Hogsmeade is quiet. It’s not awkward though. You’re glad he’s not trying to force conversation. You fear that would be more uncomfortable. 

“So where do you want to go first?” you ask as you arrive. 

“I don’t mind as long as we hit up Honeydukes and Three Broomsticks at some point,” he says with a shrug. 

You can’t help but think he looks a bit cute with his hands shoved into his pockets. 

“Start at Three Broomsticks then? Get our lunch and go from there?” you suggest. 

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

As expected, the pub isn’t too busy. You find a table and order food and butterbeers from Rosmerta. Then it’s just the two of you at a table. He asks about your essay that you were working on yesterday and if you think Slughorn will like it. He talks about his own. Conversation covers a lot of school, but then it drifts to your friends and Quidditch. And then to the Marauders and their pranks. Time flies by so quickly. Your plates are emptied quickly and you go through several mugs of butterbeer. You only notice how much time has gone by you glance out the window by chance and the sun is lower in the sky than you had expected.

“Oh! We need to get going if you still want to go to Honeydukes.”

Remus looks to the window and nods. “I didn’t realize the time…”

He waves down Rosmerta and hands her some galleons. You smack his shoulder gently as you exit the pub together. 

“You paid? I was the one who invited you to Hogsmeade. I should’ve paid.”

He rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t the guy on a date though?”

You blush, which in turn causes him to blush. So this was a date. And you had initiated.

“Let me pay for your chocolate at least.”

“Oh, don’t go down that road,” he says with a laugh and a wide smile. “You are underestimating how much chocolate I’ll be getting.”

“Galleons worth?” 

“Galleons worth.”

“Remus Lupin! That cannot be healthy!”

“‘S not my fault my stash gets raided constantly.”

You laugh. The air is light between you. He really does get several galleons worth of chocolate; you thought he was kidding. You insist on paying for part of it. The owners of Honeydukes patiently wait for you to leave the store before locking the door behind you. The sun is set by the time you’re walking back to Hogwarts. The crescent moon is high in the night sky, bathing the path back to school in a pale light.

When you reach the castle, still standing outside, you say, “This was fun. I’m glad I got to go to Hogsmeade.”

“I’m glad I got to go with you.”

You feel your face heat. The romantic in you tells you, no, begs you to kiss his cheek. Tell him he’s why it was so fun. Talking over butterbeers was your favorite way to pass time and you really enjoyed getting to know him better. But you weren’t so bold. 

“Goodnight Remus,” you say before heading inside. 

He stood outside for a few minutes longer. He should have kissed your cheek. He was kicking himself for not doing so. But that might have been too bold and risked scaring you off. It was probably for the best that he didn’t. He needed to work up to it. The boys were waiting for him when he returned to his dorm.

“Where have you been all day?” James asks accusingly as soon as Remus walks through the door.

“None of your business, Mum,” Remus says, tossing the Honeydukes bag on his bed.

“Honeydukes?” Peter asks, sitting up. “You went to Hogsmeade? Just now?”

“You went to Hogsmeade without us?” James asks, putting two and two together. 

“You went yesterday,” Remus reminds him.

“You chose to stay back. Why go today?”

“Because-” he starts to say.

“You’re working on the bet, aren’t you?” Sirius cuts him off. The smile Sirius was sporting said that he knew he was right.

“Yes.”

James and Peter gasp. Sirius grins wider.

“So you going to tell us how it’s going?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Peter asks with a pout forming on his face.

“You’ll just know when I succeed.”

Sirius rolls his eyes and laughs. “Must be going well if you’re still confident you’re going to succeed.”

---

“Andrew, for the love of Merlin, leave me alone,” you complain on your way to class.

Whatever the Marauders did to him at Hogsmeade wasn’t enough. He seemed more urgent than ever to take you on a date, even with you telling him that you weren’t interested in him in the slightest. He stands in the doorway to your class, which he isn’t in.

“Come on, just one date. It’ll be the best one you’ve ever been on!”

Remus looks up from his conversation with the boys at his desk at Andrew’s voice. He hears you groan.

“Let me into my class!”

Remus is there in a moment. 

“Lark, let the lady through,” Remus says firmly.

Andrew spins around in the doorway, still blocking it but now looking at Remus. 

“Little Lupin to the rescue? You fancy her or something?”

“Yeah, a bit,” Remus answers, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “Now let her through. I think she’s made her opinions of you quite clear.”

Andrew glances at you over his shoulder. 

“Hear that, dove? Lupin likes you.”

“I’d hope so. We went on a date.”

Andrew’s arms fall so he’s not blocking the door as well and Remus pulls you through, which makes Andrew stumble slightly out of the way.

“What do you mean you went on a date?” Andrew asks indignantly. “A date? An actual date? With him?”

“That’s what I said. Care to confirm?” you ask, looking up at Remus, who is still holding your arm.

“Yeah. It was quite lovely. She’s quite lovely.” He looks down at you with a soft smile. 

Then without thinking, you lean up and press a chaste kiss to his cheek. Andrew looks ready to scream and a few hollers erupt from behind you. You scan the room for the source. The Marauders. You’re not too surprised at that. Of course Remus’ friends would be watching him as he came to play hero. It’s less than thirty seconds, but by the time you look back over to the door, Andrew has vanished.

“Thanks, Remus,” you breathe.

“Maybe he’ll finally leave you alone, huh?”

“Hope so.”

He walks you to your desk before returning to his own, where James pats him enthusiastically on the back. Throughout the entire lesson, you two are looking over at each other. Most of the time, when one is looking, the other isn’t. You only make eye contact with him once all lesson, which caused both of you to turn a deep shade of crimson. 

By the end of the week, Andrew stops asking you out on the daily and appears to be purposefully avoiding you and Remus. You find ways to spend more time with him, scheduling study time in the library and comparing schedules so that you can walk to your classes together. You even join him and his friends for lunch every few days. They were rather shocked the first time, but quickly turned into a welcoming group. 

It became obvious to those around you that you were seeing Remus. It came as a surprise to many people, including your friends. 

“What do you mean you’re dating Remus Lupin? When do you talk to him?”

“What do you mean you went to Hogsmeade with him? Alone?”

“When did this happen and why didn’t we know about it?”

Excuses of minding your own business and not wanting to count your chickens before they hatched echoed in your dorm. It really had come out of nowhere, but you suppose it was because Remus pursued you in a way that no one else had. He wasn’t putting you on the spot to do the things he wanted and disrupting you when you were clearly busy. He liked to be in your presence and took your opinion into consideration before suggesting things. Even better, he put Andrew Lark in his place. 

You were headed to your usual table to meet Remus for a study session; you refused to call them study dates because you knew your mind would say that you can’t be productive on a date. You laugh at your thoughts: dates are not conducive for studying. You hear Remus’ voice as you walk through the shelves, collecting some books you know you need for your Herbology assignment. You stop mid-step when you hear additional voices at your table.

“Have you snogged her yet, Moony?” Sirius asks.

“No, not yet,” he answers with a sigh. 

Not yet. You smile.

“Well, could you get on with it? You’ve been spending so much time with her. We need you for this prank.”

“You were the one to suggest the bet. Sorry I’m taking my time.”

“But you’re going to break up with her once you do, right?” Peter asks. “Complete the bet and get out before you catch feelings. That was the point of this.”

You bite your lip, hoping that somehow this wasn’t about you, that maybe Remus had a voice twin and they were talking about the other boy’s girl. You knew that it wasn’t possible, but you had to hope for a moment. But then James spoke. 

“Even better, you got Lark off her back so she owes you. She owes you a snog and then you’re free. You’ll have gotten your kiss, Casanova.”

Lark. He had only been after you for a while. And Remus had been the reason he was leaving you alone. 

You leave your hiding place within the books, stepping into their line of sight. Remus’ eyes go wide as he sees you. His heart breaks when he sees the tears in your eyes. You had heard and he knew it. 

You lock eyes with him and you shake your head. Holding the books close to your chest, you turn to leave the library. How could you work with someone who was only with you to snog you for a bet? A damn bet? 

You ignore Remus calling after you. You don’t break into a run; you have too many books in your arms to run, but you’re walking as quickly as you can. From the sound of his footsteps, he is running. Running and calling your name, saying it isn’t what you think. That the boys don’t know what they are talking about. You spin on the spot to glare at him through tears when he finally catches up to you and places a hand on your shoulder. 

“Did you or did you not ask to sit at my table in the library because of, of, of that bet?” you spit. It comes out harsh. It was supposed to. You were angry and upset.

“I did, but-”

“There’s no buts about this, Remus,” you say firmly. You’re firm but your voice is laced with sadness and uncertainty. “All of this was because of a bet. And I’m not a bet. So yeah. Go fuck yourself.”

You leave him standing in the corridor. He could’ve followed you. Some part of him knew he should have so that he could explain. 

---

You avoid Remus at all costs. He tries to hunt you down in the library, in between classes, in the Great Hall. He’s even taken to sitting outside your dorm. Your roommates step around him, muttering insults. He doesn’t blame them. If it had been anyone else doing this, he would be saying the same insults under his breath to Sirius, James and Peter. He hated himself for agreeing to the stupid bet in the first place. He should have just gone after you on his own terms. 

About a week later, you spent all day studying in the library and you were honestly surprised that Remus didn’t show up once. You missed dinner, but you didn’t mind. If you had gone to dinner, you might have run into Remus and if you were safe in the library, you were staying there until you went to bed. Except you ran into Remus while trying to go to bed. He was asleep outside your dorm’s door. You knew you should’ve just gone into your dorm and ignored him, but you were a good person and wouldn’t let him sleep like that all night. You nudge his side gently with your foot.

“Lupin,” you say softly. “Lupin, wake up.”

He stirs, rubbing his eyes. When he sees that you’re the one who woke up and not some disgruntled prefect, he jumps to his feet and hugs you. You make a startled noise at the hug.

“Please, let me explain,” he whispers.

“You have five minutes. Then I’m going to bed.”

“Okay, thank you,” he says quickly. “Thank you. Okay, so yes, it did start as a bet.”

You groan and reach for the doorknob. He puts his hand on top of yours to stop it from turning. 

“I have four minutes and thirty seconds,” he says, causing you to roll your eyes. “A bet that I couldn’t get a girl and snog her. I accepted because Sirius was being rude. Stupid, I know. But please, please, please believe me when I say the bet stopped being relevant the moment you agreed that I could keep you company in the library while you worked on your Potions essay. I wasn’t doing it just to snog you and prove to the boys that I really could get a girl.”

“And I should believe you because?”

“Because if it was just for a bet, I would’ve kissed you when we got back from Hogsmeade the first time. I would’ve snogged you in front of Andrew and the boys. Just to prove that I could do it. I would’ve been done.” He pauses, trying to read the expression on your face. “I’ve been spending so much time with you because I genuinely like you so much. I like being your boyfriend. I like being around you. I like making you smile. I like making you laugh. Yes, I’d like to snog you very much. But not for a bet. I want to snog you to feel your lips against mine. I like studying with you, I like paying for your butterbeers. I like walking around with you. I like when you hang out with my friends. I’d like to hang out with your friends.” 

He pauses his ramblings to catch his breath briefly.

“That is, if you’ll forgive me for even partaking in this stupid goddamn bet. And you somehow convince your friends to forgive me too.”

You cross your arms and lean against the doorframe. You take in Remus’ appearance. You’re used to him looking perpetually tired, but he looks exhausted, so much worse for wear than usual. His hair is a mess and clothes uncharacteristically rumpled. His expression is so genuine and sad, practically begging you to understand how much he cares for you.  

“Please. I know you’re more than a bet. So much more. The only good thing about the bet is that it actually got me to get close to you.”

“I’ll forgive you under one condition,” you say.

His face lights up and he takes a step toward you. 

“Anything. You name it and it’s done.”

You smirk. “When you do snog me, please do it in front of Lark. A little revenge on that sorry bastard.”

Remus smiles widely and nods. Then he places a gentle kiss on your lips. It only lasts a second, over as soon as it began. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He gives you an identical kiss. “One snog in front of Lark coming up.”

[thisiswhereikeepdcthings]

My take on stalker!Tim:

Robin!Jason gets distracted during a patrol and doesn’t meet up with Batman, who panics is mildly concerned. Jason doesn’t want to reveal the real reason he got distracted (could be something he was working on for Bruce or just him being a cute baby nerd) so he makes something up the spot. A kid! He saw a kid. It was definitely child shaped. And. Uh. Photography! That’s right, he saw a kid taking photos and made sure he got home safe.

Batman: Photography?

Robin!Jason: Yeah, uh, nighttime photography.

Batman: At midnight?

Robin: I mean, it’s not a school night.

Batman: What were they taking pictures of?

Robin, panicking and going to the first thing he can think of ch just so happens to be last Sunday when Dick called Bruce an emotionally repressed furry: Uh, wildlife?

Bruce is skeptical but honestly he’s seen weirder things even tonight so as long as the kid got home safe…

Jason proceeds to use this same excuse a few more times.

Batman: Don’t tell me, it was the kid again.

Robin!Jason: You just missed him.

Batman, who isn’t feeling strong parental feelings at all: Hrn.

Okay so then fast forward a few years. Jason is on his little murder training gap year and Tim has shown up to the manor trying to fix the disaster that is currently Bruce Batman Wayne. Dick, trying to bond with the kid now that it’s apparent he’s not going anywhere, asks what Tim’s interests are.

Tim: Well, I like photography, and…

Dick, putting two and two together and getting forty-seven: Ohmygosh you’re the kid.

Tim: The what now?

Dick: The kid with the wildlife photography.

Tim, thinking about that one competition he entered a year ago: Uh, I guess?

Dick thinks that’s how Tim figured out all their identities. He thinks he has it all figured out. He does not. Bruce now thinks he has it figured out too. He does not. Tim is unaware there was something to be figured out. Jason is off learning the finer points of poisoning or something idk.

So skip forward some more and Jason is back, minus some murder attempts or whatever because this is crack, and Dick is now trying to get his two brothers comfortable with each other. It is not working. Finally, Dick remembers they’ve definitely met before.

Dick: So, do you remember meeting Tim before?

Jason, whose memory resembles Swiss cheese but is fairly certain he never met Tim before now: Uh…

Dick: He’s the kid! The one with the wildlife photography!

Jason, suddenly remembering the excuse he used several times as Robin: The what now?

Tim, knowing full well that Jason was very dead at the time he submitted anything in a wildlife category: The what now?

Jason pulls Tim into a hall closet to interrogate him about this.

Tim: There’s like five rooms right here that no one has stepped in in a month. Why are we in a closet?

Jason: What, exactly, did Dick mean by you were the one with the wildlife photography, because I’m pretty sure that was just an excuse I made up but now I don’t know.

They figure it out. They also agree to just let that belief be. Jason doesn’t want to admit he made that all up. Tim doesn’t want to admit he thought Dick had gone to his art competition thing before they even officially met. Tim also doesn’t want to explain how he actually figured out their identities because this sounds way cooler. So they decide to just roll with it.

Damian shows up and tries to hunt down Tim’s early photos of Batman. Tim and Jason get really into making it look like he just keeps missing it. Barbara knew about all of this the entire time but no one asked her so she didn’t bother to fill them in.

Everyone else that joins the family after that point and hears the story of Jason and Tim supposedly meeting while Jason was Robin has the exact same response: “Oh, ‘cause Batman’s a furry. Right.”

[charliemwrites]

1fur1 Price part 2

(Sorry if this isn’t, like, spectacular. It’s been a minute since I wrote for this au)

The house is getting an upgrade. Two wolf dogs was a cozy situation, but manageable. The addition of a third, especially one as big as Konig, was pushing it. Like, really pushing it.

Now that Skipper has adopted himself into the family…

Not that you mind, of course. Skipper has been a bit of a blessing in furry disguise. You know that “Alpha Dog” dynamics aren’t an actual Thing with wolves, but if they were, you think Skipper would be it.

He must have some sort of shepherd in his blood because he wrangles the rest of the boys masterfully. They spend too long in the yard, he’s barking and nipping and rounding them up. Johnny’s being too insistent about “sharing” your food, he’s inserting himself between you two. Ghost and Johnny get rambunctious, he’ll tolerate it for a couple minutes but then he’s breaking it up with a grumble — especially if they’re acting up inside.

You appreciate the help.

It’s not that the boys don’t listen to you. They do! With almost perfect obedience. But it can still be overwhelming to keep an eye on everyone all the time.

“Oh darling, why is it always you?” you sigh, scratching at Konig’s chin. Receive a whine in return.

Your poor sensitive guy. Stepped on a bee in the yard, it seems. The vet cooed over him, gave him some meds, and now he’s all but collapsed in an anxiety-exhausted heap by the fireplace.

Johnny is pacing behind you, making upset noises and nosing at your elbow.

“I know you’re worried, bud,” you soothe over your shoulder. “He’s alright.”

You’re working a sock over Konig’s bandages so that he doesn’t pick at them. Johnny takes that as an invitation to insert himself into the mix, bumping into your shoulder hard. Your hand pushes into konig’s paw as you catch your balance and he yelps. The noise surprises you, scares you, hands jerking back.

Skipper is on him in an instant, teeth on his scruff and yanking him away from you and Konig. For once, Johnny resists, yelping and whining crying.

“Jesus, enough!�� You raise your voice a bit to be heard over all the canine yelling. Get a hand in Skipper’s scruff and give him a shake. “Release.”

He does, though not without an indignant growl, twisting around to glare at you. You didn’t even know dogs could glare with so much indignation.

“What are you gonna do, bite me?” you challenge, hand still buried in his fur. “Grow up.”

You turn to Johnny, who’s making a great show of looking pathetic, tail down and ears back.

“Got to bed,” you instruct, pointing with your other hand to the cushion Ghost is on. Those two are thick as thieves, you’re sure Johnny will feel better after some cuddles. Sure enough, Johnny drags his feet over to ghost, who grumbles as he makes room for the other dog.

You let Skipper go, who makes a big scene of shaking off. But he doesn’t go making trouble with Johnny, so you let him be. Which leaves Konig, who isn’t making eye contact with anyone.

“You alright, baby boy?” you croon. He licks your offered hand.

You manage to finish getting the sock on in peace, dropping a kiss to the scar on his forehead.

“My little trooper, good boy,” you murmur.

With him settled, you sit back with a sigh. Skipper is sitting, looking mighty offended. You groan.

“I’m sorry, honey,” you offer, extending a hand to him. “I was just stressed and all that fussing freaked me out. I know you were just trying to help.”

A long, long look at your palm. And then he sighs and sets his chin in your hand. You waste no time scritching along his jaw, coaxing him closer until you can leave kisses all over his muzzle and forehead.

“Big strong boy,” you coo, grinning into his ears when you see his tail sweeping slowly back and forth. Like he doesn’t want you to notice. “Such a good helper. Thank you, handsome.”

Peace restored, you settle onto the couch until dinner time.

So yes, four wolf-hybrids is pushing it on space.

—

You’re being minded.

It would be funnier if your dog wasn’t better at taking care of you than you are.

“You must have been in service dog training or something,” you muse, accepting the pill bottle from Skipper’s mouth. “Someone wanted you to work.”

And work he does.

If it’s not helping you keep the boys in line, it’s patrolling the yard with Ghost. Or nudging you to eat at mealtimes. Or putting you to bed. Hes a busy boy, hardly ever settles on the couch with the rest at night for snuggle time.

And when you do strong arm him into it, his ears are perked at every little noise, ready to protect.

There’s also this. The bringing you meds. (You try not to think about how he managed to get into the cabinet. Maybe you left them out on the counter?) Or sometimes he picks up things you’ve dropped, like pens or keys or even your phone.

It’s sweet, but you worry he’s bored. When you do buy him enrichment toys though, he gives them a perfunctory sniff, then leaves them for one of the others. (Johnny in particular loves the treat puzzles.) So you figure he’s stimulated enough, considering bored dogs usually tear into anything and everything.

“You know I’m supposed to take care of you right?” You tease, patting his big, sturdy side. “I take care of everyone here. You’re my boys.”

Skipper snorts and sits down, watching you, eyes pinging between your face and the pills. You huff, amused despite yourself.

“Alright, alright! Rude mutt.”

A little “boof” — agreement or offense? You amuse yourself with anthropomorphizing his noises while you chug water with your meds.

“See? Done. Ta-da!” You say when they’re done.

Another “boof” and then he’s trotting off. Pauses to give you a significant look. You check the time. Right, it’s lunchtime. Best to take meds with food anyway.

“I’m coming,” you groan, shuffling after him.

All the dogs are waiting for you in the kitchen, big eyes and perked ears.

“Look at you lot,” you laugh, dropping a scratch to Ghost’s head as you pass. “What is this, an intervention. I’m not giving you guys enough peanut butter?”

Skipper ignores you, taking his usual place at the entrance to the kitchen. A good vantage point to keep an eye on you and the rest of the house. He only accepts a little bit of shared food after everyone else gets a bite. You hum as you consider all of them, crammed into your kitchen because they’re a clingy lot.

“Might be time for a move, guys,” you sigh. “Or maybe another story.”

You glance at the ceiling with dread. Either way, you’re not looking forward to it.

Main Story | Price pt.1 | Gaz

Masterlist

[butchvampireheimerdinger]

the butchfemme sevika post was so cute!!! what about sevika or vi with a femme who's very forward about all their feelings and lowkey shameless

A/N: Thanks! I ended up having to split this into two posts teehee Here’s the one I wrote for Sevika (also with mob wife vibes. I was in a mafia mood when I wrote these if you couldn’t tell)

Pairing: Butch!Pitfighter!Vi X Flirty, femme, and filthy rich!reader who’s sort of a mob princess type

Warnings: Pretty SFW, brief mentions of sex, violence, alcohol, cussing.

You Were Born Tough

By ButchVampireHeimerdinger

⚠︎ Vi is the type of young butch with a lot of audacity, just to get that out of the way

⚠︎ She loves to be the forward one and when you start matching her energy it would get her heart pumping and her palms would start to sweat a lil

⚠︎ Ok basically she’s pit fighter Vi and your family runs the fight club (you have so much dirty money like it’s disgusting. Mob princess baby of the family asf)

⚠︎ But one day a certain pink haired pit fighter captures your eye. You start sitting in the front every time she fights, ogling her cause violence is hot

⚠︎ She notices you and it distracts her enough that she gets her shit ROCKED

⚠︎ But she holds it in for another round and in between people are adjusting their bets. It’s stacking up against her crazily. but suddenly you drop a huge stack on her to win. Over the bet limit but the rules don’t rly apply to you.

⚠︎ She’s like. Floored. and musters up the nerve to go up to your spot in the stands and see what that was all about. She doesn’t know who you are at first, just that she’s seen you before (and would like to see more of you.)

⚠︎ You lean forward on the barricade looking down at her. You cock your head like a fox all curious, and she speaks first:

“So you like to lose money, huh?”

“I like to live fast. And…” You look side to side dramatically as if making sure no one’s listening.

“I have a secret talent.” You beckon her closer and whisper in her ear while gently bracing her shoulder, One of ur moves.

“I can tell, from the first round, the difference between a regular street-thug-bruiser type and a mothafucking champion.” That gets her ego going fosho.

“That’s a bold statement, Princess. Sure you wanna stake your reputation on that? Matter of fact, I’d like to see it in writing.” You let out a cute tinkling little princess laugh.

“Flex for me?” You ask. She obliges, confused but intrigued. You pull out an ink pen from your little designer purse that has a chihuahua inside. The pen is the pink furry kind with a big ass plume. On her bicep in curly cursive print you write:

I, the official supreme dictator of mothafucking champions, hereby declare this here dyke the holy asskicker of the undercity — and may Janna herself strike me down if I am wrong.

You adorn it with hearts and stars because she’s so gothy and serious looking that it looks a little funny.

“You’re quite the artist.”

“I’m actually on my way to the Met after this. Maybe I’ll bring you along, Knuckles. My masterpiece.”

“Gonna sign your work?” She still doesn’t know your name.

You reapply the red lippie you’ve got in ur dog purse and press ur lips to her bicep right under your “contract.” Your “signature.”

“Go kick some ass.” You gesture with your head to the announcer, who is signaling the start of the next round.

And that drives her insane. Like she’s so fired up she could fight god.

⚠︎ Needless to say, she absolutely does kick ass. You take in so much coin and as she looks at you collecting your earnings, you’re fanning yourself with stacks of cash.

⚠︎ She looks for you afterward, you’ve long departed. She finds you at a bar/restaurant: the place a lot of the fighters, their sponsors, and other important people in the pit fighting sphere frequent after the fights. It’s the “upscale” lounge for Zaunites. You’re at a table alone with an espresso martini and she sits down all confident.

⚠︎ Three big dudes immediately stand up all threatening. She’s thinking oh shit, who is this girl? and you signal to your goons it’s all fine.

⚠︎ She puts on the moves, puffing her chest. You put on the moves, touching her arm, paying more attention to your reflection in ur compact than to her. She finds it intimidating. And hot.

⚠︎ Somehow the idea that you become her official sponsor comes up. You get one of ur goons to get a contract out and as you sign it with that ridiculous pen she sees your last name and it clicks. She’s thinking what the hell did I just get myself into?

⚠︎ You’re at all her fights. You do her makeup because her goth thing is a little overdone. Your touch is delicate as you apply it, just you two alone. It helps her game, honestly — a moment of peace before the rumble.

⚠︎ You’re on the sides watching her in your usual spot and she just kinda glows under ur gaze.

⚠︎ She’s referred to as your creature, your Frankenstein (yeah Frankenstein’s the doctor ik but I think it’s unlikely that either of you would both know and care enough to correct them.)

⚠︎ You wipe her sweat with a towel and encourage her in between the rounds.

“Don’t embarrass me out there, Knuckles.”

⚠︎ You’re touchy and it makes every other woman highkey scared to approach her. Rumors fly around that yall r fucking on the side. You do nothing to dispel them.

⚠︎ It’s all fun and games for a while and you’ve got her thinking what are we? do you just act like this with everyone? Is this all in my head?

⚠︎ It’s after a particularly bad match, the worst in a while. Instead of going to that upscale place, you decide to slum it and follow her to The Last Drop. Everyone notices your presence, u just have a kinda way about you. You find it charming there.

⚠︎ You lean over her shoulder as she chats with the people she grew up with. Someone asks what’s the deal with you two. You theoretically have the balls to take control of the situation and tell her what’s up, but you wanna see her squirm. And you wanna hear it from her.

⚠︎ You look at her like what r u gonna say, Slick? Expectantly, like a challenge. A challenge that she then fails.

“Gentlemen, my sponsor.” She gives them the professional explanation. You’re disappointed.

“If you’ll excuse me gentlemen, I have some business to attend to. As you know, Violet’s career is my main concern — my only concern, matter of fact.”

⚠︎ You shove an envelope of stuff for her to look at into her chest and give her an overly friendly and utterly sarcastic pat on the back + death glare combo as she takes it. Then you pick up the tab and strut out of the bar, goons close behind. One of them helps you into your flashy mink coat. The bar dudes don’t know what the deal is, but they know Vi just screwed something up. And they let her know it, punching her shoulder and shoving her around all bro-ey.

⚠︎ She thumbs through the envelope that night, feeling shitty. Just stats and numbers, boring legal shit for her to sign her name under yours. There’s that curly signature with a lipstick mark.

⚠︎ She shows up at your place the next day to go over the match and practice a bit in your basement gym as usual. She finds you in the grand office you use, used to belong to your late father. Your legs are crossed, leaning backward, redbottoms kicked up on the desk. Her practice gloves are there on the desk and she goes for them, but you stop her with a long leg to her chest, pointy heel looking kinda threatening. She goes to say something, you silence her with a subtle gesture with your index finger, long red nail freshly painted.

“What exactly is your goal here, Vi? Gonna become the greatest pit fighter of all time? Gonna keep swinging until you’re set for life? Or until something happens to you?

Of course not. You haven’t even thought for a second about the future, about anything serious. You clearly don’t even want this anymore, you blew your shares on crypto scams and a flashy car. And you don’t even seem to care that you’ve been falling behind in the ring — Anyone ever tell you that you block with your face?"

Again, she tries to respond, thinking that you’re trying to pick a fight. Again, you cut her off.

"Vi, dealing with pitfighters for the rest of my sorry life was never my plan.”

“…What are you saying?”

“I’m saying it’s clearly not about the money or the game anymore. This is about you and me. You’re not stupid enough to not have noticed what’s happening between us. But I won’t chase you by myself. I picked you out that day because I hate cowards, and I believed in you. Don’t prove me wrong.”

⚠︎ That gives her the fire she needs to hop onto the desk and kiss you, slow n deep, bracing the top of the swivel chair you’re in.

⚠︎ So Vi eventually gives up pit fighting for the resistance, which had kicked up in recent months. And the news about her father kept her busy — kept her teeth intact as well.

⚠︎ You use your wealth for the resistance as well, and you use your connections to offer Zaunites a refuge from the gas.

⚠︎ You guys become a power couple. When everything goes down, you’re passed over for the council seat in favor of Sevika. No hard feelings though, you’re still a little green and far too unpredictable to be cut out for Topside politics.

⚠︎ But you hold it down in the Undercity, with your beloved brawler by your side. Sometimes she likes to hang out, lift weights and punch the hanging bags of flour in your basement gym. And you ogle her like you’re seeing her for the first time, kicking ass in the ring.

⚠︎ Nicknames for you include “my girl,” “my lady,” “my femme” of course. You like when she calls you “my darling,” it means she’s in an especially good mood (though she never calls you that in public lol)

⚠︎ And you like to leave your signature kiss marks all over her. She wears them with pride.

Fin

[avocado-writing]

I loved your Pregnancy headcannons for the bg3 boys. I was wondering if you could maybe do more and possibly about weird Pregnancy Cravings. I'd think it be funny to have Tav (durge/vampire/or not) just suddenly have this strong craving to drink blood. Or maybe they came across something during their adventures that was just weird and now Tav craves that exact thing.

this made me think about weird pregnancy cravings for each of the bg3 men and how they’d react to you, so here we go. rated M. original

Wyll

You have normal cravings, thank the gods. Well, as “normal” as they can get.

Rich and bizarre foods. Filet mignon and sorbet, that sort of thing.

Maybe something a bit spicier if he’s been turned devilish by Mizora, but honestly nothing that counts as strange.

Wyll is a godsend. If you ever mention you have a craving then he goes and gets it for you, even if it’s late at night and you’re both tucked up in bed.

He watches you eat and gets you to give him a little food review! He listens and nods along; it’s playful and sweet.

Constantly whispering to your belly, “you have very odd taste little one… I hope you take more after me and have a normal palate…”

You laugh and shove him playfully, he is enamoured.

Astarion

It’s not exactly blood that you crave… but a raw steak looks super good right now.

He watches you eat rarer and rarer meat until it’s practically bloody off the bone. Pursed lips, looking at you from over the rim of his wineglass.

“Darling; are you sure that’s… normal?”

You gesture to him wildly with a fork. His eyes go wide, you don’t stop eating.

“You’re the one who fucked a dhampling into me, Astarion! I don’t know what’s normal! This is entirely new territory!”

He apologises and keeps the raw meat coming, taking very good care of you indeed. Even after you give birth, you never go back to anything above medium-rare.

Gale

When you’re pregnant with Gale’s baby, he comes home to find you with necklaces in your mouth. Magic ones.

At first it’s just the original talisman that you wore about your neck anyway, something with a charge of Cure Wounds in it, and you’d just end up with it on your tongue without thinking.

Soon it gets too much. You look at someone’s Boots of Brilliance and start salivating.

“This is your fault, Dekarios…” you mutter after he gently pulls a magic glove from your mouth like you’re a cat caught eating something it shouldn’t.

He apologises because, yes, clearly the netherese orb continues to have an effect.

Starts cooking for you more and channels the weave into the food he makes for you, so that you can satisfy your cravings without risking accidentally choking on clothing.

Mostly works… but still sees you eyeing his robes hungrily sometimes. Though actually you may just be checking out his arse.

Halsin

The need for honey has never been more compelling.

Oh, how you long for it. Directly from the source, thick comb to dance across your lips.

Halsin finds you with your hand in a beehive one day, a ward around yourself to stop any stings. He realises ah, he may have had more to do with your current state than just the act of conception…

Does his best to source you as much honey as he can and as safely as possible. You pour it onto him at night and lick it off, revelling in the taste of it just as much as the taste of him.

You long for salmon, too, if you can. He finds you trying to catch them in the river with your bare hands. It’s so sweet he can only stop and watch for a while before you roar - literally roar - for him to come and help you.

When the baby is born with little furry bear ears and a tail, the two of you think about that… wildshape night.

[idolomantises]

how do you cope with just about any of the hate/controversy/whatever? if anyone is overly critical of my work i get really self-conscious.

Sometimes it does affect me when it’s a personal attack because I’m a bit sensitive and I can’t help myself haha. It’s actually something I’ve been working on improving, particularly ignoring hate, it’s just… yall know how crazy the hate I get is 😂. At one point I had a bunch of random furries harass me for two days straight because they were mad at me setting boundaries with another follower, and that was RIGHT AFTER I dealt with someone accusing me of drawing vile art simply because they didn’t think I drew fat people (even though I did).

It’s easy to forget that a lot of people online are just hostile and bitter and in a constant state of hyper-aggression. Twitter especially rewards abusive behaviors online. It’s why I generally avoid fandoms nowadays and just kind of enjoy things from the sidelines. A lot of people enjoy being very cruel and unfriendly unprovoked, but I won’t say “get over it” because stuff like that DOES hurt. I’ve been told and sent a lot of stuff that still sticks with me years later, things I’ve never discussed before because it’s too upsetting.

But at the end of the day, I’m here. I’m me. And I’m awesome :)

There’s seriously no harm in discussing these things with people in your lives (I’m mainly referring to those offline) because they can be so grounding for you. I owe a lot to my family for always being there for me when I needed support.

And with art… admittedly, I’ve struggled with certain aspects of my work because of how people respond to it (a while back I vented about my frustration about having my drawings labeled “Gooner art” because god forbid when women)

But I then think “hey. This is something im proud of and I worked my ass off to get there. If someone wants to be a dick about my work, that’s their problem”. Of course well intended criticism is appreciated too and I actually don’t take personal offense to it because it HAS improved my art. I had followers criticize how I drew hands, mouths and used colors and I think I’ve improved exponentially because of that. It’s why I’m a big supporter of healthy criticism.

But again, you don’t have to listen to everyone. Criticism doesn’t mean someone is correct, trust your own thoughts and feelings above theirs, because I know the worst thing an artist can do is to try to bend their art to make it appeal to everyone, and it’ll end up appealing to no one.

I love quoting that dril tweet a lot but sometimes you just gotta say “who cares. Pick up football”. Log off and continue doing what you love, and don’t let people drag you down.

[celli-ohs]

I Can't, I Have Rehearsal

pairing: socially awkward!park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: high school au; crack, comedy, fluff

synopsis: What happens when you get seated right next to the most handsome boy in your entire grade? Well you thought it'd be a great excuse to get to know him better, but the guy won't even talk to you! After a mishap in the science lab, you come to find out that Park Sunghoon, the cold-hearted prince of EN High, isn't in fact rude, he's just afraid of women.

before you read: character profiles

warnings: language, cooties, wild subplot, loser enhypen

word count: 2.03k

taglist (open):

note: part 1 of my and scene! series, loosely based off en-drama.

Log 2: Tuesday - March 5th, 2024

“I can’t believe you almost fainted,” Sunoo looks concerned as the six of them are again walking to school.

“I know, good thing I had that choco pie in my pocket,” Jaeyun smiles. “Thanks,” Sunghoon nudges his arm.

“I can’t believe you ate nothing all day and thought you wouldn’t faint.” Jongseong scoffs. “I always knew you were stupid, but that’s something Riki would do, not you.”

“I can hear you, you know?” Riki frowns. 

“Good, maybe that’ll get you to eat your goddamn vegetables next time.”

Riki opens his mouth to argue back, but Jungwon suddenly hisses.

“He’s back! Do something!” The younger boy’s eyes are wide as they catch sight of Heeseung randomly following the group.

Jungwon pushes not Jongseong, but Jaeyun, who stumbles as he approaches Heeseung. 

“Hey man,” He calls out awkwardly. 

“Oh! Jaeyun! Look, I brought this to show you!” As Heeseung digs into his bag, Sunghoon notices Jaeyun’s demeanor change from stiff to relaxed. 

Whatever Heeseung pulls out, it makes Jaeyun gasp. “Naur way!” He exclaims excitedly. 

“Damn, I thought he’d have more balls than Jongseong, guess I was wrong.” Jungwon pouts. 

In turn, Jongseong glares at the younger boy.

“You try telling him no! Look him in the eyes- his big, round, doe eyes that shine like he’s constantly on the verge of tears. You won’t be able to, trust me.” Jongseong spits. 

Jungwon rolls his eyes. “Jeez, fine whatever, I’ll just make Riki do it next time.”

Riki holds his hands up in defense. “No can do.”

“What? He’s got you too?!” 

“You just don’t get it Jungwon, that’s a homie right there, even if he’s a little weird and obsessed with an animated furry.” Riki shakes his head.

“Why are you talking like that? You need to stop hanging out with Riki C, he’s rubbing off on you.” Sunoo sneers.

“Riki C is cool! Unlike you.” Riki argues. Sunoo just rolls his eyes. 

“Hey,” Sunghoon finally speaks up. “Do any of you want to join the calligraphy club?”

“Pfft…”

“Fuck all of you.” Sunghoon groans, walking faster. As he walks away, he hears Riki cackling.

“Dude!” Jongseong calls out. “You know I've got baseball after, they’re really strict too, they wouldn’t let me.”

“I would love to ditch taekwondo to do nothing for you, but they all kinda suck so they need me there.” Jungwon sighs. 

Sunghoon turns around to his friends with a desperate look of pleading. “Sunoo?”

“I’m trying out for the theater club, sorry Sunghoon,” Sunoo gives him a sad smile. 

Sunghoon didn't even wait for Riki to answer, the boy was still laughing, wiping away fake tears.

“I asked Jaeyun yesterday, he said he can’t since he’s the new soccer vice-captain.” He mumbles as he slows down to allow his friends to catch up.

“You know, girls aren’t that bad. I mean what happened to you- that was years ago, you were seven.” Sunoo reminds him.

Sunghoon ignores him, waving him off. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

“Yo Sunghoon!” Riki runs over, throwing an arm over his shoulder. 

“Get off of me.” Riki doesn’t move as Sunghoon tries to shove him off. 

“Why don’t you try asking Heeseung?”

Heeseung? Now that could actually be a great idea in disguise.

A loser like Heeseung could drive you to resign from the calligraphy club, and allow Sunghoon to keep the club and old library.

He spins around, joining Heeseung and Jaeyun. 

“-totally come over and we can build a set-“

“Hey Heeseung, I have a question.” Sunghoon clears his throat. The older boy looks up at him curiously (he really did have big eyes).

“Sure, what’s up?”

Nervously, Sunghoon wavers.

“Would you- uh like to join the calligraphy club with me?”

Silence…

“Oh,” Heeseung wears an odd expression, one Sunghoon would later recognize as pity. 

“Sorry, I’m trying out for the basketball club this year. Calligraphy is kinda not my thing.”

Riki’s laughter echoed through Sunghoon’s skull all morning.

Sunghoon’s busy scribbling down notes in his workbook when you tap the side of his desk with your pencil. 

“Hey, Sunghoon,” You whisper. He freezes (because for some weird reason he still believes that if he doesn’t move, you won’t see him).

“Sunghoon,” You try again. 

Okay, so you can see him. He clears his throat, and slightly, slightly tilts his head towards your direction.

“What time are we meeting tomorrow?” You whisper. 

As soon as possible and as little as possible.

“Right after school. Thirty minutes.” He grunts.

“Only thirty minutes?! How about an hour?” You try to barter with him. An hour?! He can’t be alone with you for an hour.

“Thirty minutes isn’t enough time to learn calligraphy.” You explain quietly. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see your hand as it grips your pencil. They look so much smaller and fragile than his own.

“Fine, an hour,” He concedes. He guess he did need to teach you the basics. He’d probably breeze through it in a couple of minutes, then let you do whatever.

“Cool, thanks.” You finally lean back into your seat, giving the boy some space. 

“-partnered up with the person beside you for the chemistry lab later today. Don’t forget to wear goggles and an apron.” Ms. Hong announces. The word partnered catches Sunghoon’s ear.

“Looks like we’re partners for chemistry too,” You say, sounding enthusiastic. “Are you any good?” 

Sunghoon doesn’t respond, because he can’t believe his fate.

“Are you a psychopath?” Riki asks Sunghoon as he eats his lunch. 

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, it's gross.” Jongseong moves to smack his arm.

Riki ignores him, dodging his attack. “Like how the hell do you hate your seatmate, she’s hot!”

Sunghoon finally looks up from his plate to give Riki a nasty glare. 

“I don’t hate her. I just- did you just call her hot?” He’s a bit bewildered as all eyes fall on the youngest in the group. 

“What? I got curious, okay? I took a peek in his class when I went on a bathroom break earlier.” Riki explains. “And you cannot blame me for thinking she’s pretty, she is! Jaeyun, you've seen her!” He huffs, pointing to the other boy opposite him. 

“I mean yeah,” Jaeyun looks embarrassed as he admits this. For some reason, this has Sunghoon’s cheeks heating up.

“I don’t hate her, I just find it hard to talk to her.” Sunghoon explains. 

“Have you ever even tried talking to her though?” Sunoo points out. “Wait- actually, have you ever tried looking at her?” 

The table quiets as all the attention is now on Sunghoon. 

“I have! Remember I told you guys we made eye contact?!” He defends himself. 

“Okay but did you get a good look at her? What’s her hair color?” Jungwon asks suspiciously. 

Sunghoon purses his lips, squinting as he fishes through his memory. Unfortunately for him, the moment you two locked eyes was so traumatic for him, he practically deleted it from his brain. 

“...Bla-rown?” His friends all sigh, rolling their eyes.

“You’ve gotta get over your weird fear of women, it’s not like they’re all going to disappear one day.” Jongseong shakes his head. 

“Are you gay?” Heeseung pokes in. (When the hell did he get here?!)

“No, I’m not gay.” Sunghoon groans. “And I know I need to get over it, but it’s kinda hard when you know every single girl at school hates your guts.”

There’s an odd silence that overtakes the table, something Sunghoon doesn’t notice because of how distraught he is.

“Does he not know-” "Shhh!" Jongseong quickly shushes Heeseung. 

“We’re afraid it’ll get to his head, we haven’t figured out a way to tell him yet.” He mumbles under his breath. Heeseung nods cautiously.

Jaeyun awkwardly chuckles, patting Sunghoon’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay man, baby steps, maybe try looking at her back or something today.” The others nod in agreement, giving small encouraging words.

“Or maybe just stop being a pussy and-” “RIKI!”

Chemistry lab couldn’t come any sooner.

Sunghoon stands awkwardly to the side as you put on your goggles. When you turn to look at him, his eyes shift to the floor. 

“How do I look?” You ask.

He shrugs, putting his goggles on as well. He was genuinely trying to look in your direction, it was just hard to undo all the training his brain had adapted to. 

But Sunghoon knew he had to do at least one thing today: learn your hair color. That was his challenge he’d set up for himself (after becoming embarrassed at lunch).

He had to be able to do at least that. Hearing his friends and their concerns about him had Sunghoon reevaluating his life choices. Jongseong was right, he couldn’t avoid women forever.

And it’s not like he actually hated women… believe it or not Sunghoon has had a crush on a girl before, after his incident he might add. (It did not help that she rejected him and that kind of worsened his fear… but that’s beside the point.)

So as you’re busy going over what equipment you two need, Sunghoon is trying to work up the courage to turn his head around.

“I’m gonna be right back, we’re missing a beaker,” You tell him, stepping away to find your chemistry teacher. Once you’re gone, Sunghoon makes eye contact with Jaeyun, who is staring straight at him, not hiding his disappointment at all.

Go talk to her! His eyes read. Sunghoon shakes his head aggressively. 

You’re unbelievable! Jaeyun throws his hands into the air, sighing as he turns around back to his own table.

“I found us an extra beaker,” You sneak up on him, Sunghoon jumps at the sound of your voice. You don’t seem to notice him acting weirder than normal and continue to do your work.

After returning to your seat, you begin to lead the two of you through the procedure: measuring all the liquids out, writing down numbers, heating up substances on the bunsen burner. 

And Sunghoon quietly follows your directions, allowing you to hand him certain beakers and graduated cylinders that need to be weighed and recording data you call out.

In reality, he’s hyping himself up in his mind, trying to force himself to look up just enough to get a good look at your head. He begins to tune you out, much too worried about himself to focus on the class.

But maybe he was too distracted, - because it’s not until you’re less than a centimeter away from him, leaning over the table to grab a test tube does he notice the little distance between the two of you.

Suddenly his brain implodes, and in an attempt to save himself, Sunghoon leaps back. Only for him to trip on his own chair and land right on his ass, bringing his seat down with him.

You gasp, quickly pulling his chair away as Sunghoon begins to feel the pain from his fall.

“Are you okay? Here, let me help you up-”

Sunghoon flinches when you reach out to him, eyes wide as your delicate fingers try to grab ahold of him. 

“Sunghoon,” You scoff, sweeping your hair out of your face as you bend down, hand still open for him. “You act like I’ve got cooties or something,” You joke, laughing to yourself. 

But Sunghoon doesn’t laugh, he’s frozen, stiff with fear that you of all people have found him out. You stop laughing.

“Oh my god, do you actually think I have cooties?” You come to the realization, mumbling to yourself. 

This would be the second time (new record as Jungwon would say) Sunghoon meets your eyes. And just like he’d suspected you’re revolted by him. 

Not able to take the pain and humiliation, Sunghoon scrambles up and runs right out of the classroom. 

“Sunghoon! Wait!” You call out to him, but nothing could stop him from the immense feeling of shame as he ran off to hide.

He might not ever be able to return to school again, snatching Riki’s dream of being the resident high school dropout, but at least Sunghoon can say he now knows the color of your hair.

Maybe... he didn't get a good look.

Log 1: Monday - March 4th, 2024 | Log 3: Wednesday - March 6th, 2024

I Can't, I Have Rehearsal masterlist | and scene! series masterlist | kpop masterlist

reply/comment for taglist!

[fortheloveofpiggy]

TW this is a rant about proship and comship! Tags will have more in-depth trigger warnings

Edit: OMG PROSHIPPERS STOP MAKING THIS POST ABOUT DEFENDING IF SHIPPING CHILD X ADULT OR INCEST IS OKAY OR NOT THE POST IS ABOUT THE LABLE I DONT WANT TO ARGUE WITH YALL ABOUT THAT ANYMORE.

This is my one post where all people on all sides of the proship debate can interact. Including proshippers. If that makes you uncomfortable then don’t interact. I hate echo chambers and I want to hear all sides.

Also sorry for cross tagging just want the opinions from all sides

Actual post:

I hate the terms proship, neutral ship, and antiship. They’re all extremes and I hate them. From what I understand the meanings are

Proship: support all ships no matter what even if they’re comships

Neutral ship: doesn’t have an opinion at all

Antiship: is anti any comship which is outrageous

If y’all don’t know comship just means complex ship or they enjoy more morally grey or imperfect ships. This can include things like human X different intelligent species (like aliens, furries, monsters) which most rational people don’t think is bad. But this can also mean kid X adult, family x family, or victim X abuser

I actually don’t identify as pro, neu, or anti because I think some comships are good and healthy. I think morally grey ships are important in media when done correctly. Especially since a lot of relationships are rocky and not always healthy and it’s good to show that in media. My own ocs personally aren’t in a perfectly healthy relationship because of their own issues. But this should be done respectfully and with care. Abuse shouldn’t be romanticized but people can be romantic outside of the abuse going on just like in real life relationships

But in a pedophilic fan fiction or art or an incest fanfic or art there is no such thing as a loving part of it. The relationship in itself is abuse because a minor being with a child is abuse and family members being together is abuse. It’s not healthy for anyone involved to romanticize relationships like that and frankly can effect reality no matter how you spin it because it’s representing something as normal to kids.

Right now a lot of neutrals, antis, and probably a lot of pro shippers are agreeing but that’s where my point really starts

The term “proship” and “anti ship” are too vague. If you say you’re proship you sound like you defend media where children are harmed. I understand the meaning is being proshipping and minding your business but that’s still what you look like and frankly that’s what the term does. If you’re pro everything then that means you’re pro the harmful stuff too

And the term “antiship” suggest that you’re anti shipping in general or anti any complex ship which is also unhealthy for us all because morally grey topics need brought up. Antis also are very very commonly okay with harassment when it comes to proshippers

And neutral ship is basically just saying you don’t have a opinion at all which is harmful because you’re suggesting you’re okay with the harm done on both sides. And I understand some people who are neutral ship agree with me and don’t just not care but I feel like majority is the former not the latter (based on what I’ve seen)

Also disclaimer if you’re neutral because of mental health or because you have better things to deal with that’s valid but identifying as neutral ship does put you in it and i instead suggest staying out of it entirely

So idk maybe we should make a term for the middle. I had a few ideas maybe something like middleship or intentship (intentship meaning enjoying or allowing all ships as long as the intentions are good and are not to romanticize trauma or abuse)

Idk everyone can share their opinions but if I see another proshipper say fiction doesn’t effect reality I’m gonna scream and if I see another anti shipper call all morally grey ships bad as if they done killed their grandma I’ll go insane

[hauntedhokage]

may iI request a no 22 with rin plsss

you can request anything you want bb. this might be one of my favorite prompts on the list

prompt: a kiss that is leading to more, but is interrupted by a third party. from this list

note: continuing my cat dad!rin agenda

You’d woken up to an unplanned visitor in your bed, but happily snuggled into Rin when he kissed your head. A mumbled greeting follows, his voice still heavy with sleep though you’re not sure how much sleep he’d actually gotten since you don’t know when he’d gotten home. 

“When’d you get in?”

“Two, or something like that,” he mumbles back, loosening his grip to let you scoot up to be more at his eye level. “Didn’t really care, just wanted to be in bed with you. Where’s the cat?”

“Probably in the window hammock, he came to bed with me.” Your answer earns a hum, and you smile when he carefully cups your cheek, thumb rubbing against the apple of your cheek as he smiles at you. “Watched your match. As usual you looked really hot and good at the game.”

“Thank you, honey. Missed you a lot.”

“You always do,” you tease, leaning in for the kiss when he does and smiling at the feeling you’d missed for almost a week. The first kiss after his return is always a longer one, much more passionate to make up for time lost. Rin’s touch is always gentle, even when his kisses were hungrier than they normally are and he’s trying to get you on him for the reunion sex you both loved so much. “Missed you too, by the way.”

“You always do,” he mumbles against your lips, hands on your hips to keep you where he wants you while your hand slides through the silky smooth locks and pulling a moan from him when you tug at them to angle his head up. “Love you so much.”

“I love yo- hey!” You’re cut off by a furry body squirming into the space between you and Rin, a bap to your cheek before the cat is trying to snuggle into Rin’s neck. “Damn cat is a cockblock.”

“He just missed me just as much as you did.” A kiss to the cat’s head, and you’re smiling as you slide off of Rin to go cook breakfast. “Come back.”

[would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend]

Would teddiursa be a good pet? I know ursaring isn’t but what if I just never evolve the dude.

Love this guy I got a plush of him for Christmas I named Honey Bun

Finally, after a streak of mixed bags, we have a resounding yes! A teddiursa would make a great, if sticky, pet, so long as you are aware of their needs.

These little critters are the perfect size to be a house pet, and their care is pretty straightforward. They don’t seem to have particular habitation needs, so with the right diet and enrichment activities they will be happy and healthy. It’s important to note that these pokémon are natural food hoarders; in the wild, teddiursas create large food stores in their multiple hiding places to prepare for the scarcity of winter (Silver). Don’t be concerned if your pet does this, even if you don’t (hopefully) anticipate there being a shortage of food for them in the winter. Despite their bear-like autumnal food hoarding, there isn’t any indication that this species hibernates in the winter.

Wild teddiursas’ diets are made up almost entirely of honey. They acquire this honey by two means. The first is by scavenging it from combee hives (Scarlet). More often, however, teddiursas actually make their own honey using various types of fruit and pollen collected by beedrills (Ruby/Sapphire, Emerald). not only is honey a pretty easy food to come by at a store to feed your teddiursa, this honey-crafting behavior presents an excellent enrichment activity for your new furry friend. While keeping beedrills may be a bit more of a handful to keep (a serious understatement, if you read the beedrill post linked at the bottom of this post), their pollen can be bought from beedrill keepers or, most likely, in pokémon pet supply stores, so it would be pretty straightforward to provide your teddiursa with the supplies they need to make their own honey. Who knows, they may even want to share it with you!

The only major drawback that I can find when it comes to teddiursas is their sticky paws. These pokémon use their paws to scoop up honey, making them curiously sweet (Crystal), and almost certainly sticky as all get out. You will have to get used to either cleaning your teddiursa’s paws or your furniture on a pretty constant basis. It is important not to prevent your teddiursa from licking their paws, as this behavior isn’t just for eating normally, it’s a self-soothing behavior (Violet).

You may be able to tell from looking at them, but teddiursas aren’t all that dangerous. The only move that concerns me is Lick, which has a chance of causing paralysis. As long as you train your buddy to keep their tongue to themself, scratches from their little claws are all you have to worry about. The detriment of Lick is offset in teddirusa’s score by the lovely move Rest, which allows them to fully restore their health with a nap. That will seriously cut down on vet bills, as any injuries or illnesses can be sorted out with some simple snoozing.

As long as you don’t mind sticky paws, teddiursas would make great pets. These soft and cuddly friends just wanna make and eat honey: fulfill that need, and you’ve got a friend for life. Just… uh… use an everstone, okay? See the link for the ursaring post below.

The Beedrill post: https://www.tumblr.com/would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend/729625466905018368/would-a-beedrill-be-a-good-pet?source=share

The Ursaring post: https://www.tumblr.com/would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend/735608723612090368/would-an-ursaring-be-a-good-pet?source=share

[melon-fodder]

more thoughts on this idea

tw: mind control, non-con sexual act, masturbation-ish (I really don’t know how to tag this situation lmao)

Anyone looking into the little home from the outside might assume that the first time was an accident, that Shinsou activated his quirk on instinct or without thinking.

Or maybe—maybe he did activate it on purpose but not for nefarious purposes. Maybe he was just tired and needed quiet, needed you to stop talking, or do him a simple favor that he couldn’t be assed to do himself. Still an abuse of power, but not exactly harmful.

But no. No the first time he used his quirk on you, he did so with a clear head and clearer intentions. With Aizawa helping out at UA, it leaves you all alone with Shinsou, the two of you moving around one another easily, making casual small talk until he decides he’s bored of it and simply…

Words die in your throat as Shinsou activates his quirk. He watches the way your mouth remains slightly open, the usual sparkle in your eyes disappearing as your pupils blow wide.

You look cute like this, he thinks. Which isn’t to say that you don’t always look cute, but now as you sway on your feet, pretty face set in that braindead expression.

Shinsou takes the opportunity to study you, the subtle things he hasn’t noticed as well as everything he’s wanted to get a closer look at.

You have a beast-type quirk that leaves you with a permanent set of furry, twitchy ears on top of your head. Specific markings travel from the corners of your eyes toward your cheeks like tears streaming down your face. Your pupils, though currently dilated, are usually slitted. Feline.

Leave it to Aizawa to find himself a pretty little cat girl.

And leave it to Shinsou to want the same for himself.

“Go lay back on the couch,” he tells you, watching closely as you move robotically.

He’s seen your quirk fully activated before. You don’t fully transform, but it does morph your body into something less human. Bones and joints shift, claws and fangs elongate, and a pretty spotted coat of fur covers your body.

“It’s armor, actually,” you’d told him one day, “and it’s way stronger than it looks.”

Strong and sleek and lightweight, allowing for those short bursts of speed you’re known for.

Absent now, though.

Shinsou starts pulling your clothes off of you, so casual he may as well be stripping himself, until he’s got you in nothing but your panties.

No fur but very, very faint spots. Shinsou chuckles to himself as he makes you lay back, hovering over your pliant form. He wonders how many times you’ve looked just like this—relaxed and spread out underneath Aizawa. He wonders what you think of him, if Shinsou reminds you of his mentor the way he wants to. He looks like Aizawa, doesn’t he? Messy hair and tired eyes and stubble. That’s what Shinsou has been trying for.

Do his hands feel the same on your hips? Does he have the same callouses from the capture weapon they both use?

What about his mouth? Shinsou licks down your neck, head growing heavy as his thoughts spiral further and further. He sucks on one of your hardened nipples while groping your other tit, groaning at how soft you are and imagining all the times Aizawa has done this, how many times he’s had his lips right here, how many times he’s…

Shinsou pants, rocking his hips into the couch cushions as his cock begins to leak in anticipation for—

No. Not yet.

Not just the two of you.

Sitting back on his heels, Shinsou commands you to take your panties off as he tugs his cock free from his pants. His hand feels cold against the heated skin, and he shivers, voice cracking when he tells you, “lay back again,” then, “show me your pussy—yeah, spread yourself just like that.”

Your little hole doesn’t flutter the way it should, the way it will one day when it’s hungry for him, but it still glistens. It still drips. Beckons him to get closer, rub his squishy cockhead against your clit, smear his pre up and down your slit as he fists his length.

The longer he stares at your cunt, feels the heat radiating from it, the more desperate he gets. Sweat beads at his hairline, and his muscles strain against his skin all while you present yourself to him, keeping your folds spread open for Shinsou to admire and drool over.

He wants it, wants you, wants to be found wanting you. Fuck, what if he—he could cum inside you, leave his mark for Aizawa to find when he takes you to bed later tonight. Would he notice? Would he fuck you nice and deep then pull out to find Shinsou’s cum all over his cock?

Heavy sac rising, tightening, Shinsou’s dick kicks in his hand, white shooting from his tip in thick spurts to decorate your pussy and make a mess of the fingers you’re using to keep yourself spread.

You don’t move as Shinsou catches his breath, really nothing more than a doll with a pulse, empty eyes still fixed on the ceiling.

Heartbeat returning to a steady pace, Shinsou sighs and stands on shaky legs, not worried about you moving as he grabs a towel. He wets it in the kitchen sink before returning to you, finding you in the same position. Shinsou’s cum is drying all over your cunt and hands, and he takes his time cleaning it off of you.

He’s gentle. Careful. Patient as your clumsy limbs work against him as he redresses you.

Shinsou smooths some of your hair down, brushes his fingers down your face before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. He doesn’t command you to kiss back. Just appreciates the warmth of your mouth for a few moments.

“Forget about what just happened,” he finally tells you. “You don’t remember any of it.”

Your pupils pulse in a subtle way only Shinsou knows to look for, his command working its magic in your hijacked brain, and at that little confirmation he stands up, walks back toward the room he’s been staying in, and releases his quirk.

One day he won’t have to do that. Any of it.

One day, Aizawa will come home to the both of you, smile at Shinsou with the same type of affection he has for you, touch him the same way he touches you, love him the same way…

One day Shinsou will have it all, and by that he means he’ll have both of you.

[gratelove]

You Know You Can’t Resist Me

Tangerine x Reader

Warnings: 18+, p in v, cursing, rough, fighting, blood

You’re set on a mission to retrieve a briefcase for your boss. Little do you know someone else is sent to do the same thing. Someone you have way too much history with. Someone that you know you can’t resist.

You push through the crowded train car, trying to find the package you were sent to retrieve. You were hired by an anonymous billionaire to take out the White Death’s son and bring back a briefcase. You were an assassin and thief for hire, so you never asked many questions. You did the jobs and got paid big. That’s all you ever cared about. The train was way more populated than you had expected, but thankfully you knew what the White Death’s son looked like. Everyone in this business does. The White Death is the most well known criminal there is.

You make it to the next train car, continuing to look through a sea of heads, hoping to spot him. You then see a guy sitting by himself in a booth with large, pink, bug eye glasses on. He is wearing a furry blue coat and looks to be asleep. The glasses are starting to fall off of his face and you see a recognizable tattoo on his right temple.

“Bingo,” you say to yourself and walk over, taking a seat in the spot next to him. You look around to make sure no one is watching. You pull out your dagger and put it to his neck. “Hey, wake up asshole.” The guy makes no movement. “Hey,” you push on his shoulder. The glasses fall off his face to reveal blood pouring down his cheeks from his eyes. “Oh, fuck. Who got to you first?” You ask yourself out loud and put the glasses back on his face. You stand and open the cabin head doors, hoping to find the case in there.

“Looking for this?” You hear a British, male voice behind you. You spin around and whip your dagger to the mysterious man’s neck. Your eyes widen in surprise. “I thought it was you, sweetheart. Almost didn’t recognize you with clothes on.” A smile appears behind that too familiar mustache. You then look to see he has a silver briefcase in his hand.

“Tangerine? What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you since Spain.” You and Tangerine go way back. You’ve done multiple jobs where he just so happens to be after the same thing, but always for different people. You’re never on the same side, always at odds, and somehow you two always end up getting a little too friendly, but not this time. This time your on one missions and one mission only. You won’t let him distract you from that.

“Well, it looks like the same thing as you, love.”

“Seems like it. You still with Lemon?”

“Yeah I am. Actually, he’s in the next train car.” He nods his head in the direction of Lemon.

“Oh good, you can give me the briefcase and then go finish sucking each other’s cocks like you do. Don’t forget to tell him I said hi.” You smile at him, reaching for the item. He pulls it away slightly.

“Not gonna happen.”

“You forget I’m the one with a knife to your neck.” You remind him as you motion your eyes toward the dagger at his throat.

“You forget that we’re in a train car full of people.” Tangerine quickly reminds you.

“Well, I’m not leaving without the briefcase.”

“It looks like you are.” You quickly put your dagger in its sheath on your hip. You squint your eyes in concentration, thinking about your next move. “So, what’s it gonna be, doll?” You smirk and put your hands on his shoulders. You lean in close to his face. “We’re getting to it already, huh? I thought there’d be a little more foreplay.” You let out a small laugh at Tangerine’s words as you lean even closer. You both start tilting your heads in opposite directions, as if to kiss, and as you see his eyes flutter closed you lift your knee right into his groin, using the hands on his shoulders to push him into it. Tangerine groans in pain, falling to his knees on the train floor. You chuckle and grab the briefcase from his hand.

“Is that good enough foreplay for you, sweetheart?” You mock his nickname for you and the look on his face lets you know he is fuming. “Thanks for this by the way.” You pat the case and spin around, jogging through the aisle to reach the next car.

You know he won’t be far behind you and the next car you enter is an empty bar. You turn and look through the small window to see Tangerine is already up and heading your way. You think quickly at where to hide the case. Your eyes dart between cabinets and you decide on one right under the bar top. You slide it behind several alcohol bottles. You grab a bottle of vodka and then swiftly close the door, and just in time for Tangerine to enter the room.

“There you are. What took you so long? You need a drink, baby?” You pout your lip out at him as you pour the clear alcohol into a shot glass and hand it to him. He slaps it out of your hand and it spills on the carpet floor.

“Where is it?” His eyes burns holes through you. He is infuriated, and you find it incredibly hot.

“It’d be no fun if I just told you,” you say and take a shot. The alcohol burns as it runs down your throat and you throw the shot glass to the ground. Tangerine reaches over the bar and puts his hand around your throat, pulling your face close to his.

“Y/N, where is it? I’m not fucking around.” His grip gets tighter around your neck.

“Neither am I.” You rear your head back, and smack it right into his nose. His grip loosens and he stumbles back. He looks up at you and reaches his hand to his face. His gaze turns to his hand and he rubs the red liquid from his nose between his index finger and thumb. Tangerine laughs and wipes the back of his hand across his face, removing the small amount of blood coming from his nose. He suddenly pulls the gun from his waist and points it directly at your forehead. “There he is. I thought you went soft on me, baby.”

“Let’s dance, sweetheart.” The minute those words fall from his mouth you grab the gun and twist his wrist. You leap over the bar and your foot meet his chest. He falls back, but quickly recovers, lunging at you. He takes a swing that you barely dodge. Then another comes that you’re not prepared for. It connects with your mouth and you feel an instant sting to your bottom lip. You have the familiar taste of copper in your mouth and spit. Blood lands on the floor and your head whips toward him. “You done yet, love?” Tangerine asks. He is sweating and his curly brown hair is sticking to his forehead.

“We’re just getting started.” You lunge at him pulling out your dagger. You slice toward him cutting his shirt and exposing his chest. He grabs your arm and puts it against the bar top, hitting your hand against the edge so you’re forced to drop your dagger. He then pushes you until your back hits the train car wall. He has you pinned with his legs pressing against yours and your wrists held tight. You’re both breathing heavy and you feel his warm breath hitting your cheeks. You are flushed and wet from sweat. Tangerine makes eye contact and holds your stare. He leans in so close that your lips are almost touching.

“I love you in this position,” he whispers against your mouth. You try hard to not get hot and bothered by his words. He’s so close and you can’t help but feel the need to kiss him. You smash your lips against his in a rough and hungry kiss. He pushes his tongue into your mouth and you moan. His grip around your wrists loosen and he moves his hands up your arms, down your breasts, and finally stops at the bottom of your skirt. You feel his hands start to run up your thighs and you get the instinct to push him off. You shove his shoulders and he looks at you with confusion.

“No, not this time. This always happens, but not this time, baby. I’m here for one thing only,” you say to him, and really try to stick to the promise you made yourself when you realized he was here. He starts to laugh at your words.

“Come on, sweetheart. You know you want me.” He pushes you up against the wall by your shoulders, and once again has you pinned. You try to push your hands against his chest and it’s a short battle before he has your hands pinned above your head. “Stop resisting. You know you can’t resist me. Just like I know I can’t resist you.” Just his words make you wet and you hate yourself for that. You know he’s right. This happens every time you meet him at a job. You wish you could control yourself, but when he’s around, all you can think about is him fucking you. “Are you gonna be a good girl for me now?” He takes both your wrists in one hand as his other hands finds its way back to your thighs.

“I’m never a good girl,” you say to him and he smirks are your words. His smirk alone makes you drip.

“I know, sweetheart. That’s my favorite thing about you.” He breathes as he runs his fingers over your clit through your panties. You shutter at the feeling and a distant sensation tingles through your thighs. He pulls your underwear to the side and runs his index finger between your folds. “You’re already so wet for me. I knew you wanted me,” he breathes. He finds your entrance and slowly pushes two fingers inside you. You gasp and spread your legs open so he has better access. He starts by slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you. You throw your head back against the wall and your eyes flutter shut. He picks up the pace and you feel your legs start to get shaky. The sensation suddenly stops and you’re lifted up off the ground. He’s carrying you over to a booth. He sets you down on the edge and gets on his knees. He pushes your legs open by your knees and rips your panties down your legs. “Oh my god,” he whispers and you look at him staring between your legs in awe. He licks his lips and wraps his arms under your thighs, getting a tight grip on your body. He lowers his face in between your legs and you feel his warm tongue run down your center. You shiver at the feeling. His tongue starts to move faster up and down you. He does this several times before stopping at your clit. He pushes two fingers, roughly back into you and takes your clit between his teeth. You moan loudly as his tongue swirls around your sweet spot. Chills rush up and down your body. You can’t help but squirm as the sensation intensifies.

“Oh my fucking god,” you scream and grab handfuls of his curls. You tug on his hair and his grip tightens around your thighs in attempt to hold you still. “Tan, I’m gonna cum. Oh my fucking god, I’m gonna cum.” You throw your head against the seat as your eyes roll back in pleasure. You feel a wave of release wash over you. Tangerine laps up your juice. He lifts his head, flicking his hair back from his face.

“God, you are so fucking sexy, sweetheart.” He wipes his mouth. You lift yourself up and reach for the zipper of his pants and waist no time pulling them down. You see him bulging through his boxers, and are eager to feel him inside you. You pull those down swiftly and he grabs your wrists, pulling you up. He hoists you up onto one of the tables. His large hands wrap around your hips and he lines himself up with your entrance. You feel him slowly enter you and you can’t hold back the moan that comes out as he stretches you. You wince a little as he fully enters you. “You okay, love?” He stops moving. You bite your bottom lip.

“Mmhm,” you nod. He grabs your face, crashing his lips into yours. You being to move in sync and he slowly pulls out of you, and then shoves back in. You gasp mid kiss and Tangerine rests his forehead against your. You can feel his wet hair against your just as wet forehead. He repeats the motion again, making you moan louder. You throw your arms around his neck. He picks up pace and starts pumping into you. Your nails dig into his back and he goes deeper and harder with every thrust.

“You feel so tight.” He groans and grips your waist again, squeezing hard. Those words make you even more hungry for him, if that’s even possible. You wrap your legs tightly around his waist as he pounds into you. Your moans soon become screams of pleasure. Your whole body is numb with sensation and you dig your nails deeper into his skin. “God, you’re gonna make me cum.” He groans into your neck and starts to suck on your sensitive skin. You bite his shoulder to try to suppress the overwhelming sensation. This makes him let out a loud moan. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He warns and his pumps pick up pace.

“Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum too.” You moan in his ear. His head is thrown back with one final thrust and he suddenly pulls out. He cums onto your bare thighs and groans, his upper half falling limp on top of you. You both are a mess of heavy breathing and sweat for a pause. Tangerine then lifts himself up, placing an arm on either side of you.

“That was fucking amazing,” he says and you giggle.

“Yes it fucking was.” He leans in and gives you a long kiss.

“God, I needed this.” You lean in and give him another kiss in the lips. You don’t know the next time you will see him after this, so you take in what you can.

“You know, once I catch my breath I’m gonna kick your ass. That briefcase is still mine.” You smirk at him. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and smiles at you.

“We’ll see about that.”

[ameliora-j]

any mean remus headcanons? (nsfw)

content: mean!remus, smut under the cut, degradation, pussy spanks, cnc, biting, bruises, free use, spit, cum feeding, cum eating, free use

𐐪𐑂 it’s no secret that remus is at his meanest when his furry little problem is beginning to make an appearance

𐐪𐑂 you’re quite literally the light of his life, so he would never even imagine being a semblance of unkind to you

𐐪𐑂 but moony on the other hand…

𐐪𐑂 a lot of his ‘mean’ is just snippiness and tons of attitude

𐐪𐑂 until your third full moon with him when you’ve had absolutely enough of him

𐐪𐑂 you’ve been nothing but kind and doting, and remus does appreciate it truly

𐐪𐑂 but for some reason, moony can’t help it when you ask if he needs anything and he snaps back ‘yeah, get away from me’

𐐪𐑂 and usually you’d just glare and walk away… but today you bite back

𐐪𐑂 ‘remus john lupin, i have been nothing but kind to you! i’m not going to let you keep treating me this way!’

𐐪𐑂 ‘if you want to be angry then fine, be angry. but if you want a way to let it out i’ll be having a bubble bath’ as you walk away huffily

𐐪𐑂 it’s a few minutes before rem realizes that it was actually an invitation

𐐪𐑂 then he’s rushing into the bathroom ‘you mean it? i… i can use you to…’

𐐪𐑂 he’s all blushy and can barely get his sentences out

𐐪𐑂 ‘yes rem, i mean it. but not if you don’t cut the attitude with me’ you glare as your bending over to turn on the bath water

𐐪𐑂 remus growls

𐐪𐑂 actually growls behind you and is dragging you back to the bedroom before your fingers can even grip the faucet

𐐪𐑂 ‘you don’t know what you’re asking for, baby’ as he throws you on the bed

𐐪𐑂 rips your clothes off and slaps your pussy if you say anything about it

𐐪𐑂 ‘i’m not stopping unless i hear a safeword, bitch. so cry all you want’

𐐪𐑂 and he absolutely means that shit

𐐪𐑂 you can scream and cry and try to writhe away

𐐪𐑂 scream stop, no, please, help, anything you want

𐐪𐑂 unless he hears the word ‘red’ come out of your mouth, he’s not going to stop until he’s satisfied

𐐪𐑂 even if it means fucking you within an inch of your life… and around a full moon? that’s exactly what that means

𐐪𐑂 he’s hitting all the right spots in your pussy, marking you with his teeth, spitting on you, bruising your hips with his grip

𐐪𐑂 full moon rem is absolutely unforgiving when he fucks you

𐐪𐑂 you look like his chew toy when he’s finished

𐐪𐑂 he gets like four rounds out of you, each on with at least three orgasms

𐐪𐑂 STAMINA

𐐪𐑂 i’m talking he can cum four times and still be ready to go, he only takes breaks in between rounds for your sake

𐐪𐑂 he doesn’t want to actually hurt you

𐐪𐑂 absolutely loves the way you look after he’s finally finished with you

𐐪𐑂 heaps of his cum spilling from your used pussy

𐐪𐑂 your cunt red and raw with how harshly he’d used it

𐐪𐑂 his teeth marks sunken deep into your skin, a mess of cum, sweat, tears, and saliva dripping off your body

𐐪𐑂 ‘my poor little slut’ he pouts ‘can’t just leave you like this, can i? been such a good little whore for me, gotta clean you up so that you’re ready for the next time i use you’

𐐪𐑂 goes ham eating your pussy. it’s not a gentle clean up by any means

𐐪𐑂 he’s licking and sucking and nipping in all the right places, making obscene noises between your legs

𐐪𐑂 your wriggling and pushing is useless as you try to get him away from your overworked center

𐐪𐑂 he simply wraps his arms around your legs and holds you down by your waist

𐐪𐑂 ‘stay still you stupid whore’ as he slurps his cum from your hole ‘let me finish my dessert’

𐐪𐑂 even after you cum he doesn’t stop

𐐪𐑂 he’ll keep cleaning your cunt with his mouth until your body is shaking and you’re all but sobbing

𐐪𐑂 then he’ll come up like he’s gonna kiss you, force your mouth open, and spit all of his and your cum into your mouth

𐐪𐑂 ‘that’s my good little cum dumpster. swallow it all princess’ he cooes mockingly

𐐪𐑂 kisses you softly when you do

𐐪𐑂 the aftercare is immaculate

𐐪𐑂 a nice bubble bath and a massage while he whispers how much he loves you and how thankful he is and how lucky he got with you

𐐪𐑂 from then on, you become remus’s free use toy every full moon week <3