#i know i always tell people not to compare myself with others and to just create for the sake of creating because it makes you happy

[impactrueno]

I saw your twt about holding back on telling stories with serious and deep tones and it reminded me of an issue I had a while back. Im a south park fan and I loved reading deep analysis of the characters. and south park being south park, people dont take it seriously and think its just funny so it doesnt deserve deep analysis like other forms of media. I always came across comments saying "its not that deep" or "doing all of that for south park" and I used to hate that so much because why are you commenting that under the authors post? In media there is like a "spectrum" of how deep you are in it as a fan, and it doesn't make you less of a fan if you like to binge watch the show when you feel like it because its funny. Someone who makes fan fiction and psychoanalyses the characters doesnt make them a better fan than you. I hate "it's not deep" because it is that deep to me, I enjoy it, but it dismisses critical thinking and discourages deep discussions about our interests. I want to learn more about the turning point for eric cartman and the friendship dynamics between the main 4. I want to read psychoanalysis of the characters and understand why they do the things they do. I loved reading fan fics with an author that understood how the characters work and put them in situations while making it believable. Whether the content was deep and serious or lighthearted and silly. I don't see those as cringe at all. What I see as cringe is trying to downplay someones time and effort. you dont care for it. cool, just dont make it our problem.

I believe in recent years, this cringe and its not that deep mentality is linked to media literacy/reading comprehension issues. On top of the fact, that fandoms right now has been "normalized", so alot of mean and rude kids and adults are in this space not having a mature and respectful conversation and discussions, as well as zero fandom etiquette. (I understand the past wasnt this magical respectful place but this behaviour has increased compared to past years).

Please don't worry about making deep content, its super fun and there will be fans of what you write/draw that will definitely be into it.

GOSH anon you are absolutely right. cringe culture has done some serious damage to people's creativity and freedom of expression. doing things in earnest is now cringe to so many people (specifically that 18-21 age where they think they're better than everyone else and everything is cringe to them, image is everything) and they actually give you shit for it?? it's crazy. the most harmless thing in the world. whenever my hey arnold comics would leave my target audience on instagram i would get the meanest comments for no fucking reason, because i was taking hey arnold "seriously" (nevermind that hey arnold is probably the nicktoon with the most emotional depth and moments besides ginger but i digress) but hey at least i'm not the one losing my marbles over some random cartoon comic on the internet.

i think rudeness in general has been too normalized not just in fandom, but in social media in general. it's sad. the only thing you can do about it is be kind as much as you can to counterbalance it. i'd like to think that rubs off on people just like how being rude rubbed off on them.

i said that thing about holding back because i'm admittedly too hard on myself sometimes. no one is calling me cringe or making fun of me for what i do, thankfully, people have been super cool and supportive. and it means a lot to me because i'm very earnest about everything i create, even when i try to hold back. i literally cannot help being myself. it's all i know how to do. i'm just glad i was able to grow a platform where i'm free to be openly passionate about the things i like, talk about them and why i like them, the little things that i find fascinating, the emotions they make me feel, all of that shit is awesome and i wish more people did that.

[fanfics4all]

What Best Friends Are For

Request: Yes / No

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 

Word count: 1332

Warnings: Mentions of someone dead and being caught up in shady shit

Y/N: Your Name 

Prompt(s): I did this based on this post!

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

If you enjoy my work, you could also show support by buying me a coffee! 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

I stood in front of Spencer’s door, my heart pounding harder than it ever had. I could feel the cold creeping through my bones, but nothing compared to the chill of fear gripping me inside. I wasn’t sure he’d even recognize me after all this time, sure we talked all the time, but it’s still been so long since we’ve seen each other. But I had nowhere else to go. Nowhere safe, nowhere I trusted. Just Spencer. 

When the door opened and I saw him standing there, I couldn’t help but see a rush of relief wash over me. His face softened and his familiar, warm eyes widened as he looked me over. I saw concern flicker there almost immediately, but he just stepped aside and invited me in. 

The warmth of his apartment was a stark contrast to the icy night outside, but it couldn’t chase away the dread that had settled deep in my chest. I felt his presence at my side as he followed me to the couch. It took everything in me to not break down right then and there. Instead, I forced a small smile and sat, clasping my hand tightly in my lap. 

“Do you remember when we were little, and I asked you if we’d always be friends?” I asked, looking up at him. Spencer smiled that gentle smile that I remembered so well. My heart ached as I waited for his response. 

“I said you could murder someone, and I’d still be your friend.” The warmth of the memory was fleeting. 

“How well has that aged?” I asked, trying to hide the shake in my voice, forcing a laugh that sounded more like a broken whisper. His smile disappeared and his eyes filled with concern as he searched my face. 

“What happened?” I looked down at my hands, trying to gather the corsage to say it. It was the whole reason I came here, wasn’t it? To tell him. To ask for help. I just didn’t know if he’d still look at me the same way again. 

“I… I didn’t know where else to go.” I managed, barely about to keep my voice steady. 

“Something happened, Spence, something bad. And I’m… I’m scared.” His hand covered mine, his touch grounding me like it always had. 

“You can tell me anything, Y/N.” He said and I felt his thumb brushing gently over my knuckles. I forced myself to look up at him and I could feel my throat tightening with the words I was about to say. 

“It’s just… things got complicated. I made some bad choices, got mixed up with the wrong people…” I felt a tear slip down my cheek and I looked away, ashamed. 

“And now… now someone’s dead because of me.” 

The silence that followed felt like a thousand pounds on my shoulders. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I couldn’t bear to see disappointment or horror in his beautiful eyes. But instead, I felt his hand squeeze mine, pulling me out of my thoughts. 

“Tell me everything, Y/N.” He whispered, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. 

“We’ll figure this out, together.” I felt another tear escape and this time, I didn’t hold back. I turned my hand under his, squeezing it. The tears came harder, all the fear and guilt I’d been holding back finally surfacing. But Spencer didn’t let go. He just kept his hand in mine. I took a shaky breath, trying to piece together where to even start. 

“It was supposed to be simple…” My voice was barely above a whisper. 

“A couple of new friends and I got caught up in this scheme, Spence. At first, it seemed harmless, a quick way to make some money. But things spiraled so fast…” I looked down ashamed. 

“I didn’t know what they were really planning and by the time I realized… someone was already dead.” Spencer’s grip on my hand tightened. His gaze was fixed on me, his face still calm, but I could see the concern in his eyes deepening. 

“Who are these people? Are you in danger?” I nodded, feeling my stomach twist. 

“They know I want out now. I think they suspected I might talk, and I was scared to go to the police. I thought… maybe I could just come here. You’re the only person I trust.” 

He took a deep breath and I could see him processing everything, analyzing every word I said. Spencer was a genius, that I knew. He’s probably already pieced together more than I could even say. Yet, he didn’t rush me. He let me speak at my own pace, his steady gaze holding me in place. 

“You were right to come here.” He said softly. 

“We’ll handle this. We can go to the police together and I’ll make sure they know you’re not involved the way they’ll think you are. You’re safe here, okay?” The certainty in his words made my heart ache differently. All I’d done was run to him, and yet, he was willing to risk everything just to help me. 

“Thank you, Spence. I-I don’t deserve this kindness.” 

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” His tone was gentle, but firm. 

“I’d do anything for you, I always have.” He brushed a strand of hair from my face. I noticed just how close he’d gotten. The world outside, the danger, faded away. It was just us, like when were were kids, the two of us finding safety and understanding in each other. I loved him then, in a way I didn’t fully understand, but now there was no denying what it was. 

“Spencer…” I started, not knowing where to go with the words, but he seemed to understand, like always. He leaned closer, his voice barely a whisper. 

“We can figure the rest out tomorrow, but tonight, just know I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.” I closed the space between us, pressing my forehead against his, feeling his warm breath fan my face. 

“I love you…” I whispered, and before he could say anything, I pressed my lips against his. He didn’t hesitate to kiss me back. 

“I love you too, Y/N…” He said when we pulled away. 

“But, if you needed money, why didn’t you come to me?” He asked, his voice gentle but I could hear a bit of hurt. I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out at first. Shame and guilt clawed at me, knowing I’d chosen the riskier, more dangerous path instead of just talking to him. 

“Spencer…” I whispered, looking down. My fingers were fidgeting with the edge of my sleeve. 

“I…I didn’t want you to think less of me. I didn’t want you to see me like this… Desperate, needing help. I was afraid you’d think I was weak.” He shook his head, squeezing my hand gently. 

“That’s not true and you know it.” He said, a hint of frustration in his voice. 

“I would never have thought less of you. I would have done anything to help you, make sure you didn’t have to go through this.” His voice softened. 

“You’re my best friend, Y/N. That’s what I’m here for, to help you.” I felt a tear slide down my cheek, and he brushed it away. 

“I thought I could fix it myself. I didn’t want to be a burden.” I admitted, my voice trembling again. 

“You could never be a burden to me.” He said softly. A shaky breath escaped me, and I felt his arm slide around my shoulders, pulling me into a gentle embrace. I melted into his warmth, letting him calm me down. 

“I’m sorry, Spence… I’m so sorry.” I muttered against his chest, feeling his heartbeat under my cheek. He held me tighter, his hand brushing through my hair. 

“There’s nothing to apologize for. You’re here now and that’s all that matters. We’ll get through this together.” He whispered.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @kmc1989 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction @madammarvellous-blog1 @pettyjayy @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @answer-the-sirens @andreasworlsboring101  @reidssmile @currentfangirl-futuremedexaminer @mggstyles @satans-0-spawn @emofairygay @thesoftestwarlock @liz-owl 

[puppyeared]

who up seeing their disorder in a fictional character but feel like its not their place to put a name on it

[uzu-hime]

So like legit how does one make friends when they are

-too adhd for normal people

-too depressed for adhd people

-poor (no money to do things or go places)

-25 on the outside, single mom for 10+ years on the inside

-so so lonely but so so afraid of adding anyone else to the "only want to hang out with me when you need free therapy" group that includes everyone I know

[adore-gregor]

ugh

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

it is ok to ask for help. people are not going to hate me for asking for help

[pporapipam]

not to be carat but you can always count on svt to give a stellar performance. they are singers who sing, dancers who dance, they know exactly how to captivate and engage with the audience, work the cameras, set the atmosphere and deliver the right emotions and energy for any song or concept, all while wholeheartedly enjoying the stage. and on top of that they make it look completely effortless. they are the performance powerhouse and you know it.

[ame-to-ame]

Rereading ayaka is in love with Hiroko senpai!!! Last time I read it I don't think it was finished/I didn't finish it but ack. Now I also want to be in love 😭😭😭

[kavehater]

I honestly wish people cared more about depression and other issues rather than saying they care but scrutinise a person so horribly when they show symptoms associated with said condition 🧎‍♀️

[sweetmodel]

How I became a master shifter (+ why methods aren't working for you)

Hello! I’ve been seeing a lot of disinformation lately, and I’ve noticed that some people might need help, so I wanted to chime in. I can shift whenever I want, and I see a LOT of limiting beliefs—but I understand because I was once on the other side.

Disclaimer: This is all based on my personal experience with how I became a master shifter. You’ll want to read everything—it’s important.

I first shifted around March 2022. I would always use methods. I would affirm, tell myself I was detached from this reality, and so on. During my very first shift, I literally affirmed all night long (if this sounds familiar, it’s because I used to have another blog here, lol). You know, really complicated stuff. Then... things changed. I couldn’t shift anymore. I kept using the same methods, but they didn’t work!

That’s when I started questioning everything about shifting and consciousness. Why was it that I could be in another reality where things like magic exist, but then suddenly I couldn’t shift anymore? Why were the methods, like lucid dreaming or the void, seemingly more powerful than the act of switching realities itself? Why, when I shifted from my Desired Reality to my Current Reality, all I needed to do think of my CR to shift back—but it didn’t work the other way around?

None of it made sense! And I’m sure many others have asked themselves these same questions.

I came up with two theories:

This reality has something unique compared to the infinite other realities. To shift from here, you need something extra, like a method.

There’s something else at play, something unrelated to the realities themselves.

I dismissed the first option. There’s nothing inherently special about this reality. So why do we use methods here but not in our DRs?

Then, I thought back to how I used to shift... detaching from my body, affirming until I shifted. It all aligned with my subconscious beliefs. The method didn’t work because that’s how shifting works, but because it made sense to my subconscious. Of course I would shift if I did these things—because that’s what I believed shifting required.

Well... kind of. As I said, it made sense because it aligned with my beliefs. So when the method failed, I wasn’t letting myself shift.

Did you catch that? I didn’t let myself shift. Of course, it wasn’t the method. At what point do you actually shift? Is it when you affirm? Do you really think the universe is just waiting for you to say the right thing enough times before it switches you to your DR?

No. It’s you.

So, you have two choices:

Find a method that truly aligns with your beliefs, or

Change your subconscious beliefs.

Changing your beliefs might seem hard, but I’m going to explain why it’s not as difficult as it feels.

All your life, you’ve had certain beliefs, but those beliefs came from somewhere. You weren’t born thinking you need methods to shift—it’s something that developed over time. Which means it’s not set in stone. It can be changed.

I realized that every reality holds the same weight. There’s NOTHING you can do in this one—no intrusive thoughts or negative emotions—that can stop you. Why? Because those thoughts and emotions are products of this reality. Shifting is simply changing what you’re aware of. That’s literally it. Anything outside of that can’t stop you.

Yes, we’ve all seen those posts saying things like, "Oh, you’re not focused enough" or "You spend too much time on X, Y, Z" or even "You don’t go outside enough" (I legit read this on here—y'all are wildin’). Are you in your DR thinking "Oh, I thought about failing to shift, it means I won't :("? Of course you aren't! But nothing can stop you from shifting. Nothing can stop you from being aware that you are a master shifter.

So, how do you become aware of that?

I started affirming throughout the day. I would tell myself these things:

I’m pure consciousness. I create my reality, and everything around me is just what I choose to perceive.

I’m a master shifter. I don’t need methods. All I need to do is choose to shift, think of my DR, and it happens.

Nothing in the 3D can stop me from shifting, because I’m in the 4D and pure consciousness.

I told myself these things constantly, and I truly understood what I was affirming. What being pure consciousness and being a master shifter actually meant. I stopped using methods. I stopped acting like this reality was special compared to the ones I wanted to be in. And then... it happened.

I shifted. During the day. I simply thought of my DR, told myself, I want to shift, and there I was—in my DR. It happened because, as I said, my subconscious beliefs changed and then manifested in my reality. The same way they did when I believed I needed methods.

Naturally, I stopped using methods. I stopped trying to shift. I no longer thought, Okay, tonight I’m going to shift, and I'm going to use X method. Because that’s not how you think or act when you’re a master shifter. I let go—why would I bother using a method before sleeping when I could just stand up, think about my DR, and be there? Why would I bother doing a method before falling asleep when I knew I'm a master shifter?

I allowed myself to shift. It was me! When people ask, What method did you use? What did you do to shift?—do you really, truly believe it’s the method that makes you shift? Of course you do, because you live in a reality that seems logical, and you apply that logic to shifting. But shifting isn’t logical! It just happens! I have no idea why—it’s literally just magic to me—but that’s how it works.

So, you need to understand: You make it happen. That’s a good thing, right? It means you don’t need methods, and you don’t need to keep searching for “the key.”

Anyway, I hope this helps someone. (Also yes, before you tell me, I know this is basically Law Of Assumption. But I wanted to explain it in more of shifting terms)

(Also if someone wants to post this to another social you have my permission- especially reddit since I was active in that community but I deleted my acc lol)

Edit: Hey guys there are some additional notes in the comments that might be useful!

[pandanscafanfiction]

.

[charmedreincarnation]

MAYA, I MANIFESTED MY DREAM LIFE!!!!

Okay, I don't know if you remember me, but I participated in a lot of your challenges and the Pink’s challenge, and I found some success! I shifted to my wr and manifested some things, but I could never do it consistently, and it was really fucking annoying.

So, I took three months off and worked hard, using subliminals every day and going on affirmation rampages. I was doing lucid dreaming methods, SATs, meditations, yoga nidra, reading spiritual books literally my whole summer was dedicated to shifting and the void state. I was eat sleeping and breathing it because I could not continue to live the way I was even I can even consider that living …

So What did I do

I just followed your challenge because college was starting, and I couldn't go back to school without my dream life for the fourth time, fearing I might actually harm myself. So played the fields with this rampage (together in two different tabs).

During the Day

https://youtu.be/aLsn6ZK4RZ8?si=Dt_j7ChLjNsQ6tpV

https://youtu.be/gBD4Owz1GC0?si=icOkN1DoFsqP-adT

During the day, I would live in the end. I created albums for my desired realities, re-read my scripts, revised my void list because I genuinely believed I was going to succeed, watched supercell shifting videos on YouTube, and stared at my vision board, realizing it was going to be my life the next day, and more!

Overnight

https://youtu.be/JwV297pP9aw?si=Sxx-xlhE_owInoxH

https://youtu.be/DKB5I9y8SEg?si=PI-UaNw2m_VUWYy1

What I Manifested

- Master shifting abilities

- Master void state abilities

- Having my WR to be a perfect heaven

- Making this current reality a dream: desired looks, desired body, never gaining weight, revised wealth and family, dream friend group, a social media following, being worshipped and respected, being so beautiful by my own standards, dream home (I have a mountain range that goes through my backyard and a farm on my land, it’s enormous), revised city, only attracting wealthy, tall, attractive men, pretty privilege, 145 IQ, going to an Ivy League, getting rid of my anxiety and depression, getting rid of my health issues, no toxic family, so much money, and revised my name to Bella because I love Bella Hadid (my old name was Audrey), and so much more.

I know it sounds nothing too crazy compared to other people who manifest powers and trillions of dollars, but I can shift anytime I want. I’m going to my singing desired reality and high school musical Dr soon and I am so excited I have hundreds of places to explore. My life here finally has stability, and I’m so happy. Not waking up with stress, nausea, and diarrhea is a blessing. My house is clean, my family members aren’t fighting and calling me names, my siblings and I are close. I audibly gasp anytime I see myself in the mirror. My phone is always blowing up with people asking me for plans when it used to be dry as hell, and people forgot I even existed. Everywhere I go, people tell me I should model, want to pay for what I’m buying, are so kind, open doors for me, want to help me for no reason, give me discounts, ask me on dates… I’m so happy and confused. I don’t know how to feel. I am genuinely so loved and respected, and on top of that, I get to explore the universe of my favorite shows and movies.

I’m so glad I never gave up, even though these three months were hard and my life had gotten worse, I am finally free, my hard work paid off, and I hope everyone else will do the same. We truly are God! I was afraid this community was some big joke and big bloggers were creative writers or just laughing at delusional people like me, but I can confirm it’s very, very real.

My love I am so proud of you ! And yes I vaguely remember you and your first shift you messaged me about :)!

I am happy your hard work paid off as well. I remember when everything seemed so meaningless and delusional as well and I also thought shifting was some big joke to target mentally ill teens, but the reality is we truly are all god and no amount of doubt and struggle will ever change that truth. I hope you enjoy your dream life, and I am happy I could help 💖

[augustinewrites]

Ooh shit I had the worlds worst thought— Megumi snapping at Fushigojo mom OF ALL PEOPLE in the heat of some kind or argument or bad day or something and blurting out “you’re not my mom” and then just AAAH IT WOULD BE SO SAD ALL FOUR OF THEM WOULD BE HEARTBROKEN AND MEGUMI WOULD BE SO UPSET WITH HIMSELF 😭😭😭🕳️🚶‍♀️

things have been difficult since tsumiki had fallen into a coma.

it's hard not to feel her absence at home. the empty seat at the dining table, the untouched laundry left folded in the hamper. somehow she's everywhere and nowhere, and it hurts.

you and satoru are heartbroken of course, but you can't begin to imagine how megumi feels.

at first he'd been quiet. megumi had always been quiet, but this was different. the two of you used to sit in comfortable silence, content to read quietly in each other's presence. now he shuffles to and from his bedroom barely uttering a word, silence hanging heavy as you try to coax him into staying.

then his grades had started slipping. you weren't awfully concerned. his teachers had been sympathetic enough to exempt him from final exams, and excuse any late or incomplete papers. despite his record of delinquency, he's always gotten high marks.

you could excuse these things. the silence, the grades. he's a little brother missing his big sister, and he's hurting.

but now he was starting to act out.

picking fights at school, talking back to faculty, giving attitude.

you startle where you stand in the kitchen when the front door suddenly slams shut, revealing a grumpy looking megumi. he kicks his shoes off, making a beeline for his room without stopping to greet you.

satoru holds a hand up before you can ask, walking over to the genkan to fix the sneakers.

"what now?" you ask, wiping your hands on your apron when your husband returns, kissing your forehead.

"suspended indefinitely for fighting," he sighs, running a hand through his hair. "he has to write an apology letter to everyone involved, and the headmaster said that next is expulsion."

"he can't keep doing this," you frown. "one of us needs to talk to him."

satoru is quick to touch the tip of his nose. "not it."

you roll your eyes (like megumi would, is that where he got it?) "yeah, it's probably best that you don't. he'd bite your head off."

he leans back against the counter, relieved. "yeah, i'd just— wait. you're doing that reverse psychology stuff on me again!"

feigning cluelessness is easy. "what are you talking about?"

"when you tell me i shouldn't do something and it makes me want to prove myself!"

"not my fault you're an incredibly prideful man."

"and just this once, i'll actually admit that talking to moody teens is not one of my many skills," he says. "this is your territory. you're the only one he might listen to. you've always been his favourite."

deep down, you know that he's right. you're the first one megumi goes to for everything. the first one he comes to with a new bump or scrape. the one whose side of the bed he squeezes into when he has a nightmare. the first one he talks to when he has a fight with a friend, or his sister...

you learned pretty quickly that megumi hated when people fussed over him (it came with his lone wolf tendencies) but he always let you.

so you steel yourself with a deep breath before knocking on his bedroom door.

"megumi?" you call gently. "can i come in?"

you decide to take his muffled response as permission, twisting the knob and slowly pushing the door open.

megumi's sat on the floor with his back pressed against the bed and his knees drawn up to his chest.

you close the door behind you. "thank you for letting me in."

he hums, peeking at you over his knees.

you sit on the floor across from him, rubbing your palms against your thighs. "i know that whatever we're feeling can't compare to how bad you're hurting, but we're worried about you."

"i'm fine."

"you're not, and you can't keep acting out at school."

"okay, i'll stop," he shrugs.

you should stop here. but you know megumi. he's only saying it because he knows that's what you want to hear.

you reach out, gently grasping his hand. "megumi, please. you can't keep this all in anymore. you always talk to me—"

"i don't want to talk about it," he snaps, jerking away from your touch. "can you just leave me alone?"

you flinch a little, surprised by the slight raise in his voice. he's never yelled at you. never snapped at you like that.

you're pushing too much, you realize. he's not ready to talk yet, you have to apologize.

"megumi, i'm—"

"just— just stop!" he shouts, expression stormy. "stop fussing over me, you're not my mom!"

to his credit, megumi looks like he regrets the words immediately, lips already shooting off an apology you can't seem to hear.

it does nothing to soothe the way your chest aches, full of hurt and a touch of betrayal. those words shouldn't hurt you as much as they do. he's right, you're not his mother.

but you don't even get to utter a word before the door swings open, a pissed off looking satoru striding into the room. shit. so he had been listening. "listen here you little shit—"

you stagger to your feet, stepping between your boys. "satoru, don't. don't! he's just upset."

"he can't talk to you like that!"

"let it go," you plead. "fighting is the last thing the three of us should be doing right now, okay?"

the three of you stand there for what seems like a lifetime, letting all the pain, frustration, and heartache fill the quiet apartment.

satoru shoots one last stern look around you before drawing a deep breath and focusing on you. you do the same as his hands come up to cup your cheeks, thumb swiping a stray tear away.

"we're just gonna give you some space, megs."

_____

"he didn't mean it," you remind satoru again that night, when sleep seems to be avoiding the both of you.

"i know. he still hurt your feelings though."

"well, he was right. i'm not his mom."

your husband tuts softly, reaching across the mattress and pulling you into his chest. "so what if you didn't give birth to them? you're something better because you chose them. you chose to love them and raise them when you didn't have to."

"of course i had to. they wouldn't have lasted a week in your care."

"oh? now who's being a little shit? i see where megumi gets his attitude from."

foreheads pressed together, the two of you laugh quietly. you feel light for the first time in weeks. the man holding you close, the boy sulking in his room, and the girl laying in the hospital.

they're your family, and you know they'll always love you as much as you love them.

waking up in the middle of the night to megumi squishing between you both (and satoru actually letting him) is as good a sign as any.

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

Can you write something for Sephiroth(pre-nibelheim) or Astarion? Your work is absolutely fantastic btw I’m in love with it ❤️❤️❤️

Not So Subtle

pairing : sephiroth x female!reader

summary : you have a teenage girl level crush on him, that you and zack talk (very loudly) about when you think no one can hear. but he does.

a/n : this takes place pre-nibelheim so everyone is happy and well! in honour of ff7 rebirth :)

“Close your mouth or you’ll catch flies.” You snap your jaw shut, eyes moving to glare at the young, dark haired boy who has decided to break your daydream. 

“It wasn’t even open.” He plops down beside you, shoulder touching yours. 

“Mhm.. and you weren’t drooling over our superior.” 

“Your superior,” you correct, eyebrow lifted with pointed sarcasm. If you could stick your tongue out at him, without it seeming childish to everyone around you, you would.

“Last time I checked, you weren’t a first class soldier either,” He points out, amused. Your elbow makes contact with his arm, and his hand reaches to cover the area as he laughs.

Zack was younger than you, though he certainly never acted like there was an age gap. In his mind, you were the same age as him in some way or another. You had always trained together so you felt much closer in age even though you were at least 3 years older than him. At times, he felt like a younger brother to you.

Even more so when he found out you had a crush on the man he spent everyday training beside. Constant teasing, constant threats to spill your secrets, constant blackmail. You couldn’t even count the amount of times he had used your crush to his advantage on one hand. 

There was a time you had to put your foot down and tell him no more, cause it was wrong of course. But also mostly cause you were running out of money to buy his silence.

“Yeah but I'm older, closer to his age. So I don't have to talk to him like I'm below him, unlike some people.” 

“Can you even talk to him?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then why are you sitting here staring..?” 

“He’s training..” 

“Mhm.” The look on his face tells you he’s not convinced. Right now, it was the truth, Sephiroth was swinging his sword in the domed combat simulator, glass walls clear enough for you to see through. So the excuse of not being able to talk to him, out of fear of being sliced in half by his giant sword, was plausible. 

But any other time that you had sat staring at him, making no effort to speak to him, rendered that excuse inapplicable. 

“Shut it..” You push his shoulder with your elbow once more, and he snorts out a laugh. 

“I don’t get why you can’t just talk to him..” 

“Of course you don’t.. because you're obviously blind. Or you’ve been hit in the head one too many times in combat training.” You turn your gaze away from Zack to look back through the glass enclosing Sephiroth. 

His hair is tied up, hanging loosely against his back. It’s a rare sight, so you indulge yourself and stare a second longer than you should. It’s so relaxed, you think, compared to the seriousness of always having it pristinely down. There are stray hairs, flyaways, falling from the hair tie and hanging against his face. It’s unkempt, a nice contrast to his seemingly perfect lifestyle.

He swings his sword with calculated grace, a grace that you (or Zack for that matter) had yet to achieve. The control he held over his blade was impeccable, it never slipped or moved from his hold even when his hands were moving faster than his body could keep up with. Just another thing that had to be perfect in his life.

“How could I ever speak to him and not make a fool out of myself? For one, he’s first class, I'd totally ruin my chances of making first class if I said something totally outrageous. And knowing me, my mind would be so jumbled, I wouldn't even realize the words had left my mouth before he put me on some kind of ‘do not promote’ list.” 

“Oh so.. the only reason you won’t talk to him is because you're worried about making first class? Not.. I don’t know, maybe, the 12-year-old-girl-level crush you have on him.” Your hand slaps over his lips, eyes scanning around you. For the most part, no one looks at the two of you, and you figure the ones that are looking are doing so because of your hand covering Zacks blabbermouth. 

“Would you shut it?” Even with your hand covering his mouth, he manages to laugh at your widened eyes. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes are a dead giveaway of his amusement. You remove your hand with a pointed look, one that says ‘keep it down’ in a far more subtle way than a hand over his face. 

“You’re so lucky you’re younger than me.” 

“More like so lucky you don’t want to make your boyfriend angry. Besides, you know I’m stronger than you.” 

“Mhm..” You roll your eyes, and with a sigh, you turn back to face Sephiroth. He stands still now and you realize all of the practice dummies have been broken. From your position, he doesn't even seem to have broken a sweat, even though he’s been in there for over an hour. His sword lies on the ground, thrown without care. 

Even with Zack beside you, and the silent teasing that exudes from his body, your eyes remain trained on Sephiroth. You realize it’s childish, to stare and never approach, but the idea of even standing next to him is enough to intimidate you. 

He runs his hand over his back, pulling the hair tie from his hair, allowing it to fall against his shoulders once more. He turns, presumably to leave the combat simulated, and his eyes meet yours through the glass. You knew your staring wasn’t subtle, it had never been before, but you had never expected to get caught. You had never been caught. 

You turn your head away so fast that Zack almost flinches, probably thinking you were going to hit him again. 

“Jesus,” he looks at you with confusion, “What’s the problem?” 

“He saw me.” 

“What?” 

“He saw me! Through the glass! He totally caught me staring at him..” You stare at Zack with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, before you head falls into your lap in shame.

“Would you relax? I guarantee he doesn’t care or he didn’t even see you. Maybe he was just looking at his reflection.”

You look back towards Sephiroth to see him leaving through the doors of the dome, and then you turn back to Zack with a pitiful whine. 

“This is so pathetic…” 

“I agree,” he smiles when you shoot him a glare, “Just talk to him.” 

“Talk to who?” A deep voice sounds from beside you, higher up than where you sit. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stick up, and Zack's expression is enough to confirm your suspicion about who stands next to you. 

You turn your head to face Sephiroth, and he stares at you expectantly. You think you catch the slightest smirk building on the corner of his lips, but you also think you might just be trying to make yourself feel better. Standing, nowhere close to his height, you hold your hands up. Zack takes this as his sign to stand too. 

“Nobody! Angeal!” You fumble out words, trying to throw out a name before he grows suspicious. 

“Well which is it, nobody? or Angeal?” 

“Angeal. Yeah! Angeal, so.. um.. I should probably go find him.” 

“It just so happens that I have to find Angeal too, allow me to join you.” 

You want to throw the nearest chair at Zack, curse him for speaking so loudly. And you curse yourself for not thinking of an excuse in a reasonable time frame, so you just nod, and excuse yourself from Zack. 

He gives you a pitiful smile, and when you turn to look behind you for support one last time as you walk away he gives you a thumbs up. His face contradicts his hands, and he seems like he’s in a far less teasing mood. 

“Whatever you have to say to him, it must be important.” 

“Hm?” You tilt your head up and to the side to look at Sephiroth, you’ve been walking together for a few minutes now, mostly silently. 

“You're walking fast.” You shrug your shoulders and continue walking. 

At least until your steps are interrupted by him stepping in front of you. 

“Is there a problem?”

“What? Of course not!” He practically glares down at you, arms crossed over his muscular chest. You can see the outline of his defined chest muscles through the straps of his top. And you realize you're practically drooling over him, right in front of him so you force your eyes to meet his once more. But his glare is replaced by a smirk, and amusement in his eyes. 

“I see now..” 

“See what?” 

“Really? Do you think you’re subtle?” Your face flushes and once again you want the floor to open up and consume you whole, but you're stuck here. 

“I don’t know what you're talking about.” Step back, you scream at yourself, but he moves closer and it’s impossible to move your feet. They feel like lead underneath you, not even giving way to a small shuffle backwards.

“No?” His hand reaches up to rest on your cheek, it's gentle, far gentler than you would’ve expected. But the way his fingers tense against your skin has you feeling fuzzy, “You think I don’t notice the way you stare? Hm?” 

He stares at you, thumb moving to the other side of your chin, holding your face in his hand. He maneuvers your face, moving it however he likes. You realize he’s examining the flush in your cheeks, the way your lips part like you want to say something. His tongue gives a humiliating click when your lips close, and the words are lost. 

“I hear you, when you talk to Zack,” he stops his movement, stilling your face to look directly at him, “You’ve never been a quiet girl. Why are you so quiet now?” 

When you don’t respond his eyebrows scrunch, its subtle and almost missable because it’s gone in seconds. He’s not satisfied by your silence.

Sephiroth bends his shoulders, moving closer to your face, “Although, I suppose you’ve never been very talkative around me.” He moves closer still, swerving his nose to the side of your face until he’s able to speak in your ear, “That’s not very nice. You might hurt my feelings if you keep ignoring me.” 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble out meekly, you're honestly not even sure it’s audible at first but he laughs quietly, breath fanning on your ear. His other hand, the one that doesn’t hold your face, reaches up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear before he pulls away. The breath that leaves your body is almost embarrassing. 

“What’re you sorry for, hm?” He stares expectantly down at you, eyes never leaving yours. 

“F…for ignoring you.”

“So you ignore me?” 

“No!”

“So you’re lying?” You shake your head as much as you can within the hold of his fingers, “Then what are you sorry for?” 

“For not talking to you.” 

“And why don’t you talk to me, I'm sure you know it’s rude to stare and never speak to someone.”

“Because..” His grip loosens, hand moving back to your cheek, thumb resting on your cheek bone. 

“Because why? Cmon use your voice, the one you use to talk about me with Zack.” 

You stare up at him pitifully, and the way words fumble from your mouth has you wanting to throw up, “Because I have this stupid crush on you, and I can't talk to you without getting nervous. I know it’s stupid and I should have told you sooner so you could reject me and I could move on and I never meant to offend you or-”

You hadn’t realized he had gotten so close until his nose touches yours, top lip brushing against yours as he tips your chin up towards him. Your words fall flat on your tongue when you meet his eyes, or rather when you see his eyes that are focused on your lips. 

“Offend me.. that’s sweet..” He’s so close to you, that every word has his lips brushing against your own again and again. 

“Sephiroth..?” You suppress the urge to move the tiniest bit forward so your lips can fully meet his. And you're sure your face is impossibly red. 

“You should’ve told me about this ‘stupid’ crush sooner, such a foolish girl. May I?” You're confused, what is he asking for? His eyes flicker up to yours before moving back to your lips. When you realize what he means you nod your head perhaps too eagerly. 

Slowly, to tease, his lips press against yours, palm pressing into the skin of yours to keep you in place. Eyes fluttering closed, your hands find his chest, silently screaming about the position you’ve found yourself in.

His lips overpower yours in every regard, moving languidly against you. His other hand reaches up to the free side of your face, fingers tickling the skin on your neck and thumb resting on your jaw. 

When he pulls away you can only look at him with half lidded eyes, dazed. 

Al he does is chuckle, rubbing your cheek with his thumb and patting your head. One hand holds the back of your head, leaning down to kiss your temple, before stepping behind you, “Don’t be so shy from now on. Maybe we’ll end up here again.”

His steps echo through the empty hall as he walks away.

“Wait… wait.. I thought you had to go see Angeal?” You turn, taking one step in his direction, then stopping yourself in your tracks hesitantly. 

“I didn’t. And I know you didn’t either.” He only turns his cheek towards you to speak and then continues on down the hallway, tall and brooding.

[mindmelter]

Felix The Perfect Toy

Felix was the hottest jock in my school. Everyone knew who he was and everyone wanted to be his friend.

And I was no different; I was obsessed with his good-looking face, his fit athletic body, and his loud yet charismatic personality, and he had this casual, effortless way of carrying himself like he didn’t even realize how perfect he was.

But it’s not just the looks. Felix is different. While the other popular guys are absolute douchebags, Felix is kind, even to people like me. He could have anyone he wanted—everyone wants to be around him—but he never treats anyone like they’re beneath him. That’s what makes him even more attractive: he’s not just the best-looking guy in school, he’s actually good. It’s maddening how perfect he is.

I dreamed of having him all for myself, but I could barely approach him without having a full-blown panic attack. I knew someone like him would never pay attention to someone like me.

He was the captain of the school's swim team which gave him a fit athletic body to fantasize and drool all about.

Every time I watched him swimming, my mind would wander, fantasizing about licking the water on his body, tasting his hairy armpits, or finally seeing what he hides under those speedos. Unfortunately, that was all he was to me; a fantasy.

When my parents died when I was twelve, I moved in with my very wealthy grandfather. At first, he seemed like a frightening and enigmatic figure—an imposing man of few words, as people would say. But as the years passed, I gradually grew accustomed to his unique personality.

I never knew what he worked for, how he became so rich, or why he was always traveling, which consequently would leave the mansion all to myself. It was lonely, I will admit, I had no one else to share that beautiful mansion with.

One day we were having breakfast together. He was wearing a black robe, flipping through the newspaper with his usual silence, rarely acknowledging me. I sat across from him, stirring my coffee absentmindedly, my mind wandering back to Felix, as it often did.

"You seem distracted," my grandfather said without looking up.

I froze, unsure how to respond. I never talked about my feelings, especially not around him. He didn’t seem like the kind of person who cared about teenage crushes.

"Just... thinking about school," I muttered.

He lowered the paper slowly, folding it neatly before setting it aside. His cold gaze fixed on me, making me shift uncomfortably in my seat. “You’re not a very good liar, boy. What’s on your mind?"

“It’s… this guy,” I finally admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. I could feel my face heating up.

He already knew I was gay, so that wasn't a surprise to him.

“A guy?” he repeated, almost as if testing the word. "Go on."

"Yeah, a guy from school," I said, avoiding eye contact with him, “Felix. He’s... I don’t know, he’s just... perfect. And completely out of my league.”

My grandfather remained silent, his eyes never leaving mine. I couldn’t tell if he was judging me or just waiting for me to keep going.

“I mean,” I continued, unable to stop myself now that I’d started, “he’s popular, everyone loves him. He’s the captain of the swim team, and… well, I like him. A lot. But there’s no way he’d ever notice me. I’m... no one compared to him.”

For a long moment, my grandfather just watched me, his expression unreadable. Then, he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

“I see,” he said slowly. “So you have feelings for this... Felix. You wish you could have him?"

I nodded, feeling embarrassed for even admitting it. "Yeah. But like I said, he’s way out of my league.”

There was a strange look in my grandfather’s eyes, a glint of something I couldn’t quite place. He stood up from the table, smoothing his robe as he moved toward the door.

“Enjoy your breakfast,” he said cryptically before disappearing into the hallway.

I didn’t think much of it at the time. I thought maybe he was just being his usual mysterious self.

A week later, it was my 18th birthday, but it could as well be any other day since I had no one to spend my birthday with, not even my grandfather, as he was still traveling.

That day at school, I noticed Felix had missed all his classes. That was odd since he had swimming practice that day. I was sad because I was eager to watch him getting all wet in the pool that day; it would be my birthday gift.

Later that day I came back home from school. The house was eerily quiet, as it often was.

When I opened the door to my room, the sight stopped me dead in my tracks. There, in the middle of my room, was a large and long box. Confused, I approached it cautiously, there was a red present lace on top of the box, I pulled it off and slowly opened the box, and inside I saw... I let out a scream and fell to the floor.

My breath caught in my throat.

Felix?

He was motionless with his eyes open, while he was wearing a white tank top and black shorts. He looked perfect, too perfect—like a doll.

I backed away, my heart thudding in my chest. "W-what the hell...?"

This couldn't be Felix; it must be an identical replica of his body, I thought. There was only one way to find out. I slowly approached him and ran my hand on his face, and I felt his soft and warm skin. It was really him, but somehow... different. His eyes were empty, and his body was unnaturally stiff. I gently placed my hand on his chest and felt a heartbeat. It was very slow... actually, too slow for a person—one beat for every five seconds—but at least he had a heartbeat.

A low chuckle came from the doorway. I turned and saw my grandfather standing there with a grin on his face. He stepped inside the room, his cold eyes drifting between me and Felix.

"I see you’ve found your gift."

I swallowed hard, "What... what did you do to him?"

"Consider it your birthday present," he said, "I couldn't let my grandson put himself down over a dumb boy, now you have him."

I stared at him, speechless.

"You don’t have to be alone anymore. He will keep you company when I'm out traveling. He’s yours now, exactly how you wanted."

"But... he’s not... he’s not real, he can't be real!" I stammered.

My grandfather smiled. "Oh, he’s real. But let’s just say I’ve made some... modifications to his brain." He stepped closer, looking down at Felix with a clinical detachment. "You can do whatever you like with him. He won’t resist. He was programmed for obedience only. He sees himself now as a toy, and you as his ultimate owner. Isn’t that what you wanted?"

*Programmed for obedience?* The thought of it sent a shiver down my spine, but not in a bad way.

I glanced up at my grandfather, and for once, I didn’t feel like I had to hide my feelings. “You... did this for me?” My voice cracked. I could barely believe what I was seeing. Felix���*my* Felix—was lying right in front of me, his perfect body ready and waiting.

My grandfather nodded, his expression still cold, but there was something else in his eyes—satisfaction.

"Of course, the way you spoke about him, I know what it means to desire something so deeply, you feel powerless. So I decided to remove that powerlessness for you."

“I don’t know what to say,” I whispered, my eyes never leaving Felix’s perfectly still body inside the box, “I’ve... I’ve wanted this for so long, but I never thought...”

My grandfather chuckled, “No need for words, boy. Just enjoy your present, he’s been prepared for you.”

I stepped closer to the box, Felix's features were serene while he stared at nothing. He wasn’t just a fantasy anymore—he was real, and he was mine.

I reached out, my hand trembling as my fingertips brushed against his handsome face. Warm. Awake. And yet completely not.

“He won’t... fight me?” I asked, almost breathless.

“No,” my grandfather replied. “He’ll do exactly as you say. He’s been modified to please you, to follow your every command.”

I turned to my grandfather and smiled. “Thank you,” I said.

My grandfather gave a small nod. "I knew you'd understand. You're my blood, after all. Just remember to never let him out of the house. He's still missing as far as everyone knows. You're 18, so he's your responsibility now."

I looked down at Felix again, feeling a sense of ownership, of power, that I had never felt before. My fantasies were no longer just in my head—they were right here, ready to be made real.

As my grandfather turned to leave the room, he paused at the door, giving me one last glance over his shoulder. “Oh, and there's a manual in the box, enjoy your present."

Once he was out of my room, I locked the door for privacy. Then I picked Felix up from the box. His body was heavy, as expected, but after some hard effort, I managed to drag him to my bed.

Just for fun, I posed his right arm, making him flex.

He looked so serene, so peaceful like he was asleep. But his eyes, those beautiful eyes that I had dreamt about, stared into nothingness. They were the only indication that something was wrong—or right—with him.

I couldn't hold any more second and started to undress him, first taking off his white tank top, then I pulled down his shorts. I was surprised to see he was wearing his swimming speedos.

He probably was abducted after his swimming practice. His body was even more amazing from closer, and to think that for so long, I just watched him from afar...

The realization of having Felix lying on my bed made me start leaking.

I lifted both his arms into a flexing pose.

A smile crept onto my face as I buried my face into his armpits and took a deep sniff, but I was disappointed; he didn't smell like I was expecting to. I wanted to smell his sweaty, musky armpits, but instead, he smelled faintly like a factory or a lab.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. I had to figure out how to make him more 'alive'; I needed him to produce the sweat I was so looking forward to sniffing and lick. I wanted him to act more like the real Felix.

That's when I remembered about the manual my grandfather talked about, the instructions were surprisingly detailed. It was like a manual for a very expensive, very human-like sex doll. But this wasn't a doll; this was Felix. After searching for a while, I found a section titled "Activation and Customization."

"To activate your toy, you must press a button installed in your toy's nape. This will initiate the awakening process," the instructions said. I quickly started searching Felix's stiff neck for the button, finally, my fingertips found a small, unnoticeable button hidden under his skin at the base of his neck.

I took a deep breath and pressed it. Nothing happened at first until his eyes fluttered and started to roll in circles as if it was imitating a loading icon.

Suddenly, Felix's body jerked to life. He looked around the room with a vacant expression, his pupils dilating as he took in his surroundings. I watched, frozen, as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"H-Hello, Felix," I managed to say, my voice quivering.

He stared at me, his gaze unflinching and his movements mechanical. "Hello, Master," he responded in a monotone voice. "I'm your toy, Felix. How may I serve you?"

"Ummm, can you... Can you act more like the old... umm, real Felix?"

I watched as his eyes started to swirl again; he then looked at me—the same look that I had seen countless times at school when he was about to tease someone or when he was flirting with the girls. "I'm sorry for acting weird, dude," he chuckled, his voice sounding so much more natural, he then smirked and looked around my room. "That's a nice room you have, did you win the lottery or something?" He joked.

"Well, kinda... ummm... but you are definitely my best prize so far," I said, It was funny how I was still nervous about talking with him, even though I knew he was my brainless toy now. "So, how do you feel?"

Felix rubbed his head and chuckled. "I feel fine, man. A little stiff, but I guess that's to be expected after being in a box all day." He looked down at his body, then looked at me with an eyebrow raised, "But, dude, what the fuck? Why am I in only my speedos?"

I blushed and stumbled over my words. "Well, you know, you don't have to wear clothes around me, you're my toy now."

Felix relaxed, "You're right, I don't have to wear clothes around you." With that, he stood up and pulled down his speedos, revealing his big soft cock. I gasped at the sight.

"W-what are you doing?" I stuttered, my eyes glued to his cock.

"You said I don't have to wear clothes around you, speedos are technically clothes, aren't they?" He said with a cheeky smile.

I nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."

He walked over to me, his cock swinging gently with every step. He was so close that I could feel his warm breath on my face. "So, what do you want to do with me, dude? I'm your toy, and as a toy, I deserve to be played with."

"I-I would like you to do push-ups for me, p-please," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

Felix nodded and dropped to the floor, his muscles rippling as he pushed himself up and down. I watched, mesmerized, as he performed the task with ease.

"Is this what you had in mind?" He asked, looking up at me with a smirk while still doing push-ups.

I nodded, my cock now rock hard in my pants. "Yes," I managed to say. "It's exactly how I fantasized for so long," I pulled my hard cock out and started jerking off to the sight of my crush, obeying my every command.

For so long I had jerked off to Felix's photos, and now here he was, in the flesh, doing push-ups in front of me. The reality was so much better than any of my fantasies. I couldn't believe this was really happening.

After almost one hour of nonstop push-ups, Felix's amazing body was glistening with sweat. The smell was starting to fill my room, it was heavenly! He looked up at me with a hint of exhaustion in his eyes, I kinda wanted to know how far he could keep doing pushups, but I didn't want to break my new toy.

"That's enough Felix, sit on that chair over there with your hands behind your head. I want to taste your sweaty armpits."

"Yes Master." Felix obeyed immediately, sitting down with his arms behind his head and looking up at me expectantly.

My cock bobbed as I walked to him and sat on his lap; I leaned down and took a deep breath, filling my nose with the musky scent of his armpits. I then slowly stuck my tongue out and licked the saltiness from his skin, savoring the taste of the most popular jock in my school. His body tensed, but he didn't move away.

"That's so disgusting dude, how can you get off by licking the dirty armpits of another dude?!" He exclaimed with a mix of shock and confusion, but he didn't resist.

I chuckled and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "It's not just any armpit, Felix. It's yours."

After spending the entire evening sniffing and licking every inch of Felix's sweaty body, I decided it was time to take things to the next level. "Alright, Felix," I said, getting off from him, "I want you to lift your legs and spread them, keep your hands behind your head."

Felix looked at me with a mix of curiosity and confusion, but he did as he was told, his body now programmed to obey his new owner.

"That's so humiliating," he murmured.

My heart was racing. This was it—the moment I had been dreaming of for so long. I looked down at him, his body now mine to explore and use as I wished. "Don't worry," I whispered, trying to reassure him, "you're going to enjoy this, I promise."

I leaned in between his legs and kissed him softly. His body tensed up, he clearly wasn't happy about kissing another guy, but he didn't pull away and just let me explore his mouth. Encouraged, I deepened the kiss, my tongue sliding into his mouth and exploring it as he lay there, unmoving. "That's fucking gross.... uuurrghh, I'm not gay," he mumbled against my lips.

"It doesn't matter if you are gay or straight, Felix," I whispered as I continued jerking him off, "You're my toy now."

He stared at me, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and anger. "What the fuck, man? I'm nobody's toy!" He breathed out, his voice cracking slightly.

The programming really did a good job at mimicking Felix's real straight personality. Ignoring his protests, I reached down and grabbed his cock, stroking it gently, but he wasn't getting hard, of course he wouldn't, I thought with a chuckle.

"Get hard for me," I commanded, watching his cock swell in my hand. "Does this feel good?"

Felix let out a moan, his body betraying his protests. "No, it...uurrghhh... it doesn't," he gritted out, his voice filled with need.

"Then let's try this," I aimed my cock against his tight ass, I felt his body tense up, but before he could react, I inserted the tip, feeling his muscles clench around me.

"What the fuck!" He shouted, trying to sit up, but I pushed him back down gently.

"Don't move," I whispered, "I want you to love this. Remember, you're not just my toy, you're my sex toy. Your purpose is to give me pleasure."

I watched Felix's eyes rolling in circular movement for a few seconds, then he suddenly looked at me with needy puppy eyes.

"Aawwwwwwghhh! This feels so fucking good! I love how you fill my ass, dude!" He moaned.

I grinned and pushed deeper inside him, feeling his tight straight ass envelop my shaft. I began to thrust in and out of him, setting a slow, deliberate rhythm. His moans grew louder and louder; the command for him to love it was really proving to be effective.

As I fucked him, I couldn't believe how perfect it felt. Soon I was fucking him real hard, my hips slapping hard against his ass, the sound echoing through my room. As I thrust inside him, I leaned in and buried my face in his armpits. I took deep sniffs as I heard Felix's moans grow louder and more desperate.

"You're mine Felix, forever!" I moaned against his armpits as I came inside him.

While I was still inside of him, I commanded him to cum, but just when he was in the middle of his orgasm, I pressed the button in his nape, and he froze mid-orgasm, his face now frozen with his eyes rolling back and tongue sticking out.

But I was surprised to see his cock was still shooting cum all over his abs, some even landed on his face and tongue. I guess the programming isn't able to stop an ongoing orgasm.

Pulling away, I looked down at him, lying on the chair with his body covered in sweat and cum leaking from his ass. His handsome face, was now distorted in a mindless dumb expression.

I decided to give him a bath, to clean off the sweat and cum that covered him, but also because he still had some of the "factory" smell on him.

I filled the tub with warm water and called him to get inside the bathtub. He was in his mindless, obedient state; that was his default mode. I wasn't in the mood to bathe a loud and rebellious toy.

His eyes were glazed over as I cleaned his body, it was so cute.

As I washed his pecs, I couldn't help but playfully pinch his nipples. I continued my exploration, moving down to his abs and then to his hard cock, which was still hard since I first commanded him to be.

"You're such a good toy," I praised, giving his shaft a gentle tug. "I've always loved you, Felix, yet you never noticed me," I whispered as I washed his hair with shampoo, "you were always surrounded by so many friends and busy with girls, why would you notice someone like me, right?" I said, washing his pecs and abs. He didn't respond since he was in default mode, but I wasn't expecting him to. "I'm so glad we have each other now. I promise we will have a lot of fun together."

When I was finished, I told him to step out of the bath and sit so I could dry him. As I was drying his muscles, an idea suddenly came to me. I pressed his nape and gave him a command...

After I was done with the command, he tilted his head and smiled at me.

"Why use a towel, Master? Use your tongue to dry my sexy body." He then pulled the towel from his lap, giving me full access to his throbbing shaft, "And I think you should start with my cock."

__________________________

I've been enjoying my new toy for months now.

Felix's disappearance is commented on to this day, no one knows what happened to him after he left the swimming practice. Somehow, the organization in which my grandfather worked managed to clear all the evidence of his disappearance from that night.

I was back home after a boring day at school, and like every day since I got Felix as my toy, I spent the day looking forward to coming back home to him.

As I walked into my room, I was greeted with the sight of Felix "sleeping" on a chair.

He always spends the day "Inactivated" when I am out. I walked to him and pressed his nape, activating him.

When he saw me he gave me a warm smile and stretched his arms, teasing me by showing his armpits.

"Welcome back Master, please come take your daily dose of your toy's armpits."

[melancholyhigh]

ARTWORK

ft. leon x artist!reader

synopsis. you're an artist, and leon's your muse.

content. 1.5k words. fluff, smut. nude painting, leon's pov, needy leon, praise kink, masturbation, handjob.

note. this was j supposed to be fluff but i got ahead of myself.

masterlist. i love your guy's feedback :3

“Paint me like one of your French girls.”

You laugh at Leon’s statement. He’s perched on the small, green couch in your home art studio, wearing nothing but his pink, fluffy robe as you prepare your oil paints. 

“You’re my first French girl, Leon.”

–-

You had suggested painting him nude while you were both in bed, lazing around. You’re in each other’s hold, Leon’s arms around your waist and face on your chest when he asks about any new projects you had in mind. 

He loves hearing about what art piece you were doing or planned to do. It was how you expressed yourself, whether there was a deeper meaning or none at all. He found it beautiful. Every work you do it had a bit of your personality in it. He could tell your work from thousands by the intricate details they carry. 

When you told Leon you wanted to paint him, he wasn’t too surprised. You mentioned he was your favourite thing to draw or think of when you had art block. The admission had left him sputtering, his face red as he tried to get his words out.

On the third date, you showed him your sketchbook, pages littered with drawings and portraits of him. Some were quick sketches, while other’s looked like you took time to get every detail of him. 

You’re always on my mind, Leon. You had confessed. Was it a little creepy? At that moment, flipping through the drawings of him, the attention to detail they held, he’d say it was romantic.

People have always said he was pretty as a picture, yet you’re the only one that makes his heart beat faster and his tummy fill with butterflies when you say he’s the type of gorgeous you’d find in a painting. 

“A nude painting,” you specify. It was as if you told Leon he was the object of your affection for the first time again. His head buries into your chest, trying to hide his flushed face. You smile at his sudden bashfulness. 

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, baby.” You run your fingers through his soft hair. “I want to try something new, but it’s okay. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“‘S fine, angel. But can’t you use a picture?”

“Where’s the fun in that, pretty boy.”

He groans, muffled by your shirt, and you giggle. 

He loves to please you — in more ways than one — and nothing compares to the smile that graces your face, so he agrees. It’s not like Leon’s uncomfortable with you looking at him bare and vulnerable. There were other problems he was worried would interrupt your craftwork. 

–-

Leon leans back into the couch, doing just as you instructed. His bare back hits the soft cushioning, and it’s surprisingly comfortable. 

His robe is off, on the floor next to your easel. He rests his chin on his hand, supported on the arm of the couch.

He’s nervous. You said it’s nothing you haven’t seen before, but this almost feels more intimate than being intertwined with you in bed.

Maybe it’s the gaze you hold when you’re analysing him, grasping the compositions and layering basic shapes onto the canvas. 

He can’t help but think of when you told him he’s your favourite canvas to mark up. Sucking the reddish marks into his skin which turn the prettiest shade of purple, as you like to put it. Or when you said the colour on his cheek was your favourite shade of pink.

You always did like to rile him up, muttering the filthiest things to him in the most mundane setting, just like right now. 

“Spread your legs wider, Leon.” You mumble in a casual tone as if you don’t know the implications of your own words. You’re so engrossed with getting your work right you probably don’t.

It’s so fucking sexy seeing you in your element. Your brows pinched together, and your face serious with concentration. 

He obediently listens to you, parting his legs wide, and the problem he wishes wouldn’t happen is currently hardening between his thighs. You don’t notice, mixing paints to ensure it's the correct shade. 

You’re probably 30 minutes into painting, and he’s already hard. You said you’d take a while to finish, and he could tap out whenever he wants to, but he doesn’t want to disappoint. 

Finally, you’re looking up from the canvas and towards Leon. Your brows quirked up in surprise when trying to examine his features, studying the curve of his nose and the sharpness of his jawline to imitate on the canvas. His face is pink, the shade you know and adore so much. 

Your eyes trail down his body, his dick fully erect, slapping against his stomach. Your gaze is on his face again with a smirk on your lips.

He knows, you know, he’s rock-hard simply from the glances you take at him and the words you mutter. His lashes flutter, and he moves his hand to cover his face while the other is shamefully obscuring his cock.

“Be a good boy, and don’t move, Leon. I want to make sure everything looks good.” You say, and he thinks you aren’t going to acknowledge his 7-inch problem.  

“Oh, and make sure your pretty dick is hard for me, okay, baby?” You go back to your painting, trying to hide your smug expression.  

His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows his nerves, but he relents, going into position, not before giving his cock a firm squeeze. 

“Don’t cum too, okay? I want to be the one making you cry.”

A few hours pass, and Leon is on the verge of tears. He listened to what you said, only providing himself with enough stimulation to keep his cock hard but not enough to tip him over the edge into bliss. 

Precum leaks from the head down to the shaft. His dick is red and spent. He wants nothing more than for you to stop painting and make him cum.

“I’m almost done. You’ve been such a good boy for me, baby.” 

Your words are almost enough to make him spill his cum over the expensive fabric of your eccentric couch. 

You’re adding the finishing touches to the painting with each stroke, making sure you get the placement of each mole or freckle correct and each vein of his cock following to the tip right. 

You swear he belongs in a museum. No art can replicate how beautiful he truly is.

“I’m done.” You sigh, moving to get up to rid your skin of paint. 

After rinsing yourself off the paint, you make your way to Leon. You get comfortable in a seat on the couch right next to him. He’s breathing heavily in anticipation, looking up at you through his long lashes. Pretty, pink lips parted as pretty gasps left him. 

You cup his face, pressing your lips to his. The kiss is soft as you move your lips slowly in unison. He breathes out your name when you pull away. One of your hands moves to his throat, softly squeezing. Leon whimpers, his hands moving to hold your waist.

“Good job, baby. You didn’t cum once. I know it hurts, but I'm going to make you feel better,” you whisper, softly kissing his flushed forehead. 

Your hand moves to his pulsing cock, and gives it a soft squeeze, relishing the whine Leon lets out. Your touch sends goosebumps along his skin, and he plants his head into the crook of your neck. 

His hips eagerly buck into your hold. He’s practically sobbing into your neck, his soft hair tickling the underside of your jaw. You rest your chin on top of his head, smelling the fragrance of his shampoo. 

You thumb the slit on the tip of his cock, using his precum as a lubricant to start moving your hand back and forth on his shaft. 

You start at a slow pace. You don’t want Leon cumming quickly, wanting to enjoy every cry and whimper. 

The soft shlick noise of you jerking Leon’s cock fills the room with his desperate cries. He pulls back away from the crook of your neck, tears flowing down his blushing face.

“Please, please, please, g– go faster, angel. I’ve been such a good boy for you. Let me cum, please.”  He pleads, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes. His hips rutted frantically into your palm. How could you deny your boy?

“Okay, pretty baby. Cum for me.” You say softly, picking up the pace of jerking him off.

He whimpers loudly, thighs quivering lightly as his orgasm crashes and hot spurts of his cum spill onto your hand. He’s panting, dazed with lust and staring at you with what seems like hearts in his eyes. 

“T- thank you, thank you, s’much.” Leon gasps like a broken record, and you think he’s fucked himself dumb with your hand.

You peck his lips, effectively shutting him up.

“Let’s get you cleaned up so I can show you my favourite artwork yet.”