#i'll bash my head on those walls when i get to them

[maranull]

imma be honest, i have been getting pretty tired of Elden Ring lately (gameplay wise), but i just tried the Blade of Calling - Black Knife combo and it absolutely rocks

i also get to semi-cosplay Meli, so that's extra neat

[hollybell51]

here me out. Adam Warlock and sex pollen.

It's ok - one

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Part two

Adam Warlock x AFAB!Reader

Marvel Cinematic Universe, Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 3 (outside canon)

Word count: 4.6K

Summary: foreign flora has an unexpected effect on your human physiology.

Content: sex pollen and associated DUBCON, fuck-or-die, smut, maybe very slight perviness (but I don't think it's creepy or really triggering), Adam being down bad, SMUT. Gratuitous smut. Non-explicit masturbation, handjobs (kinda), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Adam's a virgin, reader isn't, bit on angst, unresolved, there will be part 2. Maybe some out of character-ness, but it's hard cause he only had like 10 minutes screen time so what I've written is based on my own interpretation and what I've read since I watched the movie

Notes: I hear you anon! I actually haven't done sex pollen before, though I always found it kinda fun, so this was new to me. I actually wrote a part 2 which I'll post with this, and that's much of the same xx. Also sorry I haven't done anything in ages, I've been super under the weather and busy so I haven't really had time lmao. Anyways, have fun with this!

“Hey, did you get through those notes?” Your voice echoed in the stillness of the forest, seeming to bounce off the lush petals of the giant flowers towering overhead. The local flora was all supersized, bigger than anything Adam had ever seen, and filtered the harsh light of the planet’s nearest star in sickly sweet hues of pinks, greens, yellows and even blue. 

“Breathable atmosphere, mostly docile wildlife. Predators are nocturnal.”

“Ok, just… How much longer are we gonna be out here?” 

Adam turned, letting the machete you’d armed him with – “bush bashing. Gotta learn those life skills, huh?” – hang by his side. You were panting, face flushed and beaded with sweat as you planted your hands on your hips and frowned at him. Even like this, speckled with bright yellow and orange pollen and clearly uncomfortable, Adam couldn’t ignore the odd swooping sensation in his gut. It was like someone was constantly pulling a rug from under his feet. 

He checked the time displayed on the tablet. “Two hours. Maybe less. Are you ok?” 

You groaned, but nodded and walked the few paces to stand beside him. “Goddamn flower dumped its load all over me. You sure this shit is breathable?” 

The atmosphere. Right, you were joking about the humidity. “If you don’t mind a bit of a steam,” he tried, smiling at the short bark of laughter the remark conjured. 

You tapped his machete-holding hand, jerking your head towards the wall of fleshy greenery. “Nice. Let’s just get this over with.” 

Adam simply nodded. The falling feeling had been replaced by something warm and sticky, the simple touch and your laugh flowing like syrup to sit low inside him. It had been like this for a while now, since he’d started really talking to you, spending time with you, noticing things about you. Like your hair, now dusted with fiery plant spores and stuck to your forehead, and how it caught the lights of Knowhere just right when you sat down beside him to eat. Or the little wrinkles around your eyes and mouth when you smiled – really smiled. The High Evolutionary had disliked wrinkles and other physical signs of ageing, viewed them as imperfect and a blight on existence. Adam could have stared at yours all day. 

“Can I see that?” 

Again, Adam stopped and turned. You were craning at the tablet, your hand absently running around the collar of your suit. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Just… It’s really hot. Do you feel that?” 

Adam shrugged. Temperature wasn’t a huge concern to him, but you looked truly uncomfortable now. “Humidity can often make it feel hotter than it is.” 

“I know, but…” You grimaced, pulling your collar down further and wriggling your shoulders. “I feel really hot. Worse than before.” 

Adam frowned. He knew humans were often sensitive to their environment, much more so than was practical, but you seemed more affected than you should be. There were places on Earth hotter than the current reading, you’d told him that, so why were you–?

The comm on his wrist buzzed, Rocket’s voice crackling across the emergency frequency. “Warlock? You copy?” 

“Yeah,” Adam replied, still watching you. You were taking a semi-restrained drink from your flask, no doubt aware that it had to last the whole trek and back. 

“Is (Y/N) with you?” 

“Yeah, why?” As he watched, you held the back of your hand up to your forehead, then your cheek, then your neck. The suit still seemed to be bothering you. 

“Are you on the ground?” 

“Yes.” 

“You need to get out of there.” 

Adam didn’t think he was imagining the urgency in the raccoon’s voice, distorted as it was over the distance. He was in an entirely different corner of the galaxy, after all. “Why? What’s wrong?” 

A pause, then, “The flowers, they’re… uh, they’re kinda…” 

“They are very powerful aphrodisiacs!” Ah, Kraglin, just as worried-sounding as Rocket. “They can be harmful to humans!” 

Your other hand had joined the first on your face, but it didn’t seem to be doing a lot. You’d managed to get the zipper on your suit down, the neck pulled down to expose your shoulders and collar bones, the skin there just as flushed as your face. 

“What?” 

Rocket groaned, but Kraglin either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Aphrodisiacs,” he repeated. “If she breathes the pollen her body temperature will rise until she develops a fever, and if she doesn’t have sex she could die.” 

His entire (relatively short) life, Adam’s mother – and pretty much everyone else – had been more than generous in pointing out that he was lacking, that he was slower than he should be, that he was not up to the same speed as they were. It was because he’d left the cocoon early, he knew that, but he’d never really felt that much slower. Maybe a little, but he’d always understood where he’d gone wrong and why. This was totally different. For the first time, Adam felt like he was lagging behind. 

“What?” he asked again. “What do you mean if she doesn’t have sex she’ll die?” 

“Makes ya horny, genius. Means what exactly that. Fuck or die.” Rocket took over, clearing his throat. “I’m reading off the notes, bit further down. It’s small, so you might have missed it. It says it works normal for most species, but humans are more fragile so…” 

Yes, that made sense. Adam couldn’t remember that in what he’d read, but he’d also been distracted by your legs slung across his and the little wrinkle that had appeared between your brows as you’d carefully packed your bag, sliding everything perfectly into place. He’d wanted to just reach across and run his thumb over the line, smooth it away forever. 

Now, that same bag thudded as it hit the ground and you frantically fanned yourself, eyes closed. There was no telling if you’d heard the conversation, but Adam didn’t want to waste time finding out. 

“Ok, I’ll, uh, get her back to the ship.” 

“She ok?” 

He paused for a moment, then settled on, “yeah, she’ll be fine.” 

“You got this, golden boy.” The radio crackled and fell silent, and that was that. What a great help. 

“(Y/N)?” he ventured, picking up your pack. “Did you get all that?” 

You nodded, wriggling to get the zipper further undone. Your back was beaded with sweat, and in any other circumstance, maybe Adam would have let himself dwell more on the soft contours of your spine, the roll of your shoulder blades, the harsh line of your bra strap in contrast to your smooth skin. 

“I’m really… It’s so hot, holy shit. Why’s it gotta be so hot?” 

“I think that’s the fever bit. Come on, we should get back.” 

You drew a sharp breath when his hand met your back, your whole body tensing. 

Adam withdrew at light speed. “Sorry, I didn’t–” 

“No,” you cut him off, “no, it’s fine. I’m fine.” 

“Ok.” 

It couldn’t have been more than half an hour since you’d set out, but it felt like a long time to get back. You were slower, for one, stumbling and muttering apologies whenever you became disorientated – which was often – and wriggling like your clothes were full of insects. Your breath came heavy, your skin becoming more and more flushed as you drew closer to the ship, and you looked so uncomfortable it made something twist inside Adam. 

“I heard it,” you panted, stepping clumsily over a root. “What Kraglin said.” 

“Oh,” was all Adam could think of. 

“You don’t— You shouldn’t— You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 

“Hey, no, it’s ok. You’ll be ok.” 

“I’m– fuck, Adam.” 

“You’ll be ok, (Y/N). We can sort this out.” 

“I don’t wanna force you to do anything–” 

How cruel could the Universe be? Adam wondered as he patted your shoulder – then regretted it when you stumbled. You were the first person he’d really wanted anything with, the first person he’d thought about and imagined and, dare he say it, fantasised about, and now you were worried you were going to somehow hurt him or make him do something he didn’t want to. It was sweet, bitterly so, and ironic enough to feel like a punch in the stomach. If anyone should be worried, it should be him. After all, how were you ever going to look at him the same way after this? How was he going to look at himself the same way?

“I’m so…” You broke off as you emerged into the clearing where the ship was parked, a sob – relief or something else, Adam couldn’t tell – torn from you. 

Your legs were shaking now, your skin so hot Adam could feel it through the material of your suit. He helped you quickly aboard, avoiding your eyes as you peeled the suit from your shoulders and pushed yourself against the cool wall. The pollen still lay over your hair and clothes, insultingly cheerful and innocent. 

He sighed. “We should get rid of that.” 

“Huh?” 

“The suit. It’s got pollen all over it.” 

“Oh, right.” You said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, peeling the material from your body without a second thought. Well. Adam hadn’t expected that. Trying not to watch as you sunk down to the floor, he shoved the offending clothing into the disposal to be dealt with later. 

“You should probably take a shower. There’s pollen in your hair and… on you.” 

You nodded, legs pressed firmly together, arms spread over the cool surface at your back. “Yeah, sure, I… Can you… Fuck, Adam, I’m sorry I—” 

“It’s ok, (Y/N), don’t worry.” It felt like a ridiculous thing to say, but seemed to help a little. “What do you need me to do?” 

“I need…” You trailed off in a low whimper, your legs shaking now. You didn’t even seem to notice you were in nothing but your underwear. “I…” 

Again, that twisting feeling. “Do you want me to come with you?” 

“Yes.” The word fell from your lips with a relieved sigh, your head tipping back. 

So Adam went with you, helping you into the tiny decontamination spray shower, trying to avoid touching you as much as possible – not for lack of trying on your part. You seemed to gravitate towards him, pressing your body into his hands wherever they lay, leaning hard against him. Your breath was still laboured, your face still pink, but it seemed less painful now that you had direction and were free of the suit. You’d stopped wriggling, anyway. 

You sighed as you sank down to the floor, your fingers vice-like around Adam’s. His free hand found the taps easily, turning on a cool jet and directing it to the pollen in your hair. It flowed down your neck and shoulders, an orange river spiralling into the drain. 

“I’m sorry,” you said for what must have been the millionth time, your own free hand pressed between your legs, tension radiating from every line of your body. “I’m so sorry, Adam.” 

“Hey, no, don’t be. It’s going to be ok.” He crouched, ignoring the water as he reached across to lay a hand on your forehead. You practically whined at the contact, your fingers tangling even harder with his, skin hot despite the cold water. 

“(Y/N)?” he said softly. 

“Hm? 

“Rocket, uh… Rocket said the pollen’s an aphrodisiac.” 

“Yeah, I – fuck – I know. Trust me.” 

“He said it works, um, strongly on humans.” Adam paused, heart pounding. Why did it have to be you, of all people? And why him? “If you don’t,” he continued, “you know… The fever might get high enough to kill you.”

“Oh fuck, come on!” Water sprayed where your foot slapped the shower floor, your voice echoing. 

Adam had never felt worse about anything. “I’m sorry, I should have checked the notes first, I didn’t even consider–” 

You didn’t seem to care. “So now I’m gonna overheat and die?” 

“Unless you have sex. With someone.”

Your head thudded on the wall, a sob flopping wetly from your throat. “Fuck this. Does it have to be with someone? Will it work if I just… do it myself?” 

“Uh, actually, I don’t know. Maybe.” He paused, unsure, then, “Do you want to try?” 

“Yeah, yeah I—” You took a shuddering breath, blinking through the water dripping over your face. “Yeah.” 

Adam nodded, standing. “I’ll… I’ll be around. If you need anything.” 

“Thanks.” It was barely a whisper, so wretched it made his heart hurt. You released his hand, and he turned quickly to leave you alone, your relieved moan following him out the door. Adam didn’t like this, not at all. You weren’t quiet, though he supposed that wasn’t your fault, and he hated, really hated the heat your moans and gasped curses sparked in him. It was wrong, so wrong, and he should not be here. But he couldn’t leave you. 

“Fuck, fuck oh my God–” you cried eventually, a wet thud echoing through the wall. “Oh my– fuck fucking fuck!” 

Adam listened carefully, unsure whether or not he should…

“Adam?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t…” You broke off in a sob, genuine fear lacing your voice. “Fuck.” 

“(Y/N)?” He stepped back into the shower, pausing only for a moment to take in the mess that was you. Your hand was still between your legs, thighs spread wide, panties crumpled in a wet bundle in the corner and your bra pulled halfway down your torso. In any other situation, it would have been the hottest thing Adam had ever seen. 

“I can’t… It didn’t work, I’m still so hot, why am I so goddamn hot?” 

Adam cursed as he crouched beside you, taking your free hand only a little gingerly. He cursed fate and circumstance, himself for not reading the notes properly, Rocket and Kraglin for not miraculously having a cure, and you for still looking so fucking beautiful while you were quite literally dying. He swore that if – when – he and you got out of this, he was going to burn that whole jungle. 

“We’ll fix this,” he assured you, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. 

You sighed at the contact, shifting closer. 

He frowned. “Is that…?” 

“Feels better when you touch me,” you murmured. 

That was going to haunt his dreams, he just knew it. This whole ordeal was going to haunt him, and probably not in the way it should have. He already knew he’d be seeing your shoulders silky with the water, your back slicked with sweat and the smooth curve of your thigh for months, let alone everything else. Wrong wrong wrong wrong, he reminded himself. 

“Do you…” He stopped. It was absurd. It was wrong. It was not something he’d ever live down. 

Your eyes were open, overly bright and dark with want, searching his face like he held all the answers. You were still so flushed, hair plastered to your forehead and dark with the water, lips parted and so, so pink. 

“Do you want to have sex with me?” 

“Yes.” The syllable was torn from you, ragged and desperate, followed quickly by another sob. You shook your head. “I don’t want to pressure you, don’t wanna make you do something you don’t want to.” 

He could have laughed. How were you still so focussed on that of all things? It brought that syrupy feeling back, only now it was darker, hotter, and tinged with guilt. 

“It’s ok,” he said softly. “(Y/N), it’s ok. Don’t worry.” He carefully moved his hand to your face, pushing the wet hair off your forehead. 

You leaned into it as you had before, your eyes closed. “Then yeah, I… Fuck, Adam, I want you so bad. You have no idea how much I want you.” 

It wasn’t you. Not really. He did his best to ignore the spread of the tingling warmth, his own want, as he helped you to your feet and did his best to dry you – again, as gently as he could. You just let him, casting your bra away when he paused at it, still struggling to stand and trying your best to get as close to him as you could.

Vaguely, Adam wondered how the hell this would actually work. He hadn’t had a lot of experience with much of anything before he met you and the other Guardians, let alone sex, and he had no idea if you had either. He somehow doubted you were in the same position as he was – you were gorgeous, after all, and so friendly it was a wonder he hadn’t ended up head over heels for you sooner. 

He really wished this wasn’t happening. He wished you really did want him, that he’d worked up the guts to ask Quill about Gamora and how that had gone before he’d taken off, then told you about his feelings properly. If he’d gotten that far, he was sure you’d have shown him how it went with the same patience and care you’d shown him everything, and he’d have liked to have taken his time. He’d have liked to kiss you, touch your pretty hands and hold you close, feel you all over and let you take the lead, tell you about the things he thought about you and everything you did to him. 

But it was happening, and you were probably not going to want to talk to him after it had run its course. At least you’d be alive.

You’d stumbled to a bed – one of the standard fold-out ones – beside him, and now he sat you down on its edge. You hadn’t released your hold, pulling him down with you, hands flying straight to the fastening of his own damn suit. 

“Is this ok?” you breathed, practically vibrating with anticipation. Your hands were flitting everywhere; his hair, his neck, along his jaw, his face, his own hands. You were very clearly trying very hard to make yourself slow down, wait, and Adam’s heart melted. 

“Yeah,” he said, “it’s all ok. You do what you need to.” 

A sigh of relief, a soft “thank you,” and then you were clambering into his lap and peeling his clothes off like it was nothing, your lips hot and hard against his. Adam hadn’t kissed anyone before, but he’d seen enough movies – most of them with you – to know that this wasn’t how it usually went. There was little technique or rhythm, more your tongue licking into his mouth, teeth occasionally knocking against his, so forceful he wondered if it was hurting you. 

You’d completely stripped him remarkably fast, and now your hands explored his shoulders and arms, trailing goosebumps down his chest and stomach. You fit perfectly over him, and he allowed himself to run his own hands up your back, down again, over your hips, finally settling in the curve of your waist. How often had he wondered what it would be like to hold you there? 

You moaned, the heat at your centre slick and wet against his own rapidly hardening dick. And now you were moving, too, grinding against him like your life depended on it and why had nobody told Adam it could feel like this? 

You’d broken the kiss, your lips swollen and even redder than they’d been before, your hands now in his hair, fingers tugging ever so gently. Adam had to stifle his own little sound of pleasure, bending his head to kiss at your neck and those collar bones he could look at forever. You gasped a “yes” when his tongue darted out to taste the skin, the faint tang of sweat mingling with the sweetness of the water that had dripped there from your still-damp hair. 

Your fingers tightened in his own hair, the delicious pull sending more heat straight down. You directed his head in that direction, too, arching your back until his mouth found the soft mound of your breast and he licked, then on a whim, sucked. 

“Oh, yes, Adam–” you panted, your movements becoming even more frantic. 

“Hm?” 

“Oh, that’s– that’s so good.” 

Did you know what you were doing to him? Adam supposed you didn’t, sucking again at a different spot, licking it, placing a kiss there, moving on. Rinse and repeat. 

Then your hands disappeared from his hair – that was a shame, but this wasn’t about him – and the next moment your fingers were wrapped around his cock and you were stroking it better than he ever had, your palm a million times softer than his, sliding easily with your own slick. 

“Can I?” you were asking. “Please, Adam, can I?” 

You could do whatever you wanted, Adam didn’t care. If he’d thought about it, he’d have realised that he actually liked the idea of you having your way with him, using him for your own pleasure, taking what you needed from him. But he didn’t think about it, he was too caught up in the smell and taste of your skin, the little sounds you were making, the wonderful movement of your hand. 

“Yes,” he breathed, “yes, go ahead, (Y/N). Please, just– just go ahead.” 

You were moving, rising on those wonderful thighs and your hand was moving too, something hot and slick rubbing over the head of his dick and then holy shit Adam’s mind went blank. If he’d thought you felt hot before, it was nothing compared to this. He groaned in unison with you as you sank down, taking him fully and gripping his shoulders, your breath fanning his face. You fit perfectly around him, squeezing spongy and smooth, and nothing could have prepared him for it. 

You braced yourself on his shoulders, rising off him – for a second he wondered if that was it, if you were pulling away – before you sank back down. You did it again, then again, and again and again until the only sounds in the room were your breaths mingling with his, your unrestrained little moans and his own half-stifled ones, the slap of your skin on his. 

Adam held you close, hands still anchored to your waist, transfixed by the silken heat of you and the brush of your chest against his, the bounce of your breasts and solidity of your body on top of his. 

“Feels so fucking good,” you panted. “No idea, so fucking – shit – good–”

“(Y/N),” he choked, unable to form a single coherent thought. 

“You’re so good, Adam oh my God.” 

Something was building in his stomach, he could feel it. The warm syrupiness was gone, something hotter and harder and so tight coiling in its place, growing with each moan and sigh and whispered curse from you. It was so much, almost too much, and half of his brain wanted you to stop right there. But the other half, the half that created those late-night daydreams, real dreams, half-formed ideas and scenes in his mind… That half wanted you to go harder, slam your hips down faster and say it again, tell him he felt good, he was doing well. 

“Making me feel so fucking good,” you murmured, as if you’d read his mind. “You’re so… ah, fuck, Adam, I’m so close–” 

Close to what? he wondered vaguely, but the praise was spinning that coil faster, faster, tighter and faster until– 

“Adam, oh, Adam—!” 

It snapped, electric and white hot and rolling up his spine like a damn shockwave. He could hear you crying his name, your movements slowing and your body spasming around his. He’d cum before, of course he had, but never like this. That had been small and so quick he hadn’t even realised what was happening until he was spilling into his hand or the bedsheets, confined to his dick, never spreading through his whole body and never with that glorious buildup. This was something else entirely. 

After what felt like an age, Adam’s mind returned to his body. You were shaking, collapsed against his chest, your arms wrapped around his shoulders and his around your waist, your face pressed into his hair, his own nestled in the junction of your neck and shoulder. You fit so perfectly against him. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice husky even to his own ears. 

You didn’t lift your head, but he felt you nod. 

“Are you sure? You’re shaking.” 

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’m fine. I feel better, actually. How about you?” 

Adam just nodded, unwilling to move. He could feel himself softening inside you, but didn’t want to lose the warmth and the feeling that he was yours, that he was fully with you. But… “Do you want me to stay?” 

No response, then a deep sigh. “Yes,” you whispered. 

Adam ignored the butterflies and the spark of hope that conjured, opting instead for practicality. He could feel the rapidly cooling sweat on his own back, the coldness of your damp hair, the mess of spend around the place where your body swallowed his. 

“I’m going to clean you up,” he said softly, “then I’ll come back. Alright?” 

“Ok.” 

Slowly, reluctantly, he lifted you off himself and set you down further back on the bed. You whined at the loss of contact, curling in on yourself and shivering. But you weren’t so hot anymore, the flush had been replaced by what he could only describe as a glow and the overly bright look had vanished from your eyes. You really did look better. 

After a moment’s hesitation, Adam rose and turned away, making for the cabinet where the medpacks and other supplies were kept. You wanted him to stay. You’d told him he felt good. You’d held him afterwards, let him hold you, and had made no move to make him leave. If anything, you’d looked disappointed when he’d broken the contact. But still, you weren’t yourself. 

He paused, a horrible thought crossing his mind. Was he going to end up like Quill? Hopelessly chasing a woman who didn’t feel the same way about him? He hoped not, he’d seen how miserable the man was. But you weren’t hard the way Gamora was -- as much as Adam knew her, anyway, which wasn't much. You were soft and open, and you did care about him, he was sure of it. At least you had. 

Shaking his head, Adam returned to the room with a damp cloth in hand. 

“(Y/N)?” he asked softly, pausing at the door. No answer. 

You were where he’d left you, he saw as he stepped around it, still curled up on your side. Your eyes were closed, the rise and fall of your ribs deep and even. Asleep. The surge of tenderness surprised him, strong enough that he was sure he’d been swamped by an actual wave. You really were beautiful, even damp and naked, lips swollen and hair mussed. 

He was careful not to wake you as he brushed the hair off your face, wiped away the worst of the mess, and then pulled a blanket over you. He wondered briefly if he should stay with you, slide down beside you and wrap his arms around your waist, warm you with his body heat and be there to tell you it was all alright when you woke up. 

You shifted, heaving a deep breath and adjusting your position minutely, and that decided it. Adam couldn’t disturb you, as much as he wanted to, and there was still your suit and discarded underwear, not to mention the original task. On an impulse, he bent and placed a soft kiss on your forehead before turning, scooping his own clothes off the floor and making for the shower. 

[more-cardigan-than-woman]

Jason Todd x fem!!reader

Where the reader is going to the Wayne gala to like do a mission with one of the big guys who owns a company. So she is trying her best to get information out of him but it gets a little bit hard. So the man wants to kiss her and forcing her to just have some alone time. Jason comes to save her.

No Damsels Here.

Warnings: Swearing, Some violence, pharmacitucles is pronounced like heracles.

"So, is like... you said something about pharmacitucles? Is that just.. what does that mean?" You ask coyly, gently toying with the thin strap on your dress.

"Pharmaceuticals." Mr North corrects you, his eyes watching the delicate movement of your fingers. "We manufacture drugs," he shakes his head, "Medicine, for sick people." He says in the most condescending voice you've heard since Tim had to explain to Bruce how to delete his tweets.

"Ooo, anything fun?" You perk up, trying to sound every bit the ditsy heiress. You've found that men like Mr North, are so much more eager to tell you things when they can talk down to you about it.

"I could show you." He leans his disgustingly close to your face, "in my office."

"Is it up stairs?" You throw your hands behind your back, simultaneously pushing your tits out and signalling to Jason that your moving. You make what you assume a bashful laugh sounds like and peer over at Jason who's finishing up his drink.

"Top floor. You'll love the view of the city from there."

"Is it like fight club?"

"Oh, you've seen fight club?" Mr North asks, sliding his slimey hand around you and leading you towards the lift.

"It was great." You lie, "Brad Pitt is so handsome." You nearly puke at the thought.

"Truly a masterpiece on how masculinity has been suffocated in our generation." His fingers dig in even closer as you watch in the reflection of the glass as Jason makes his way slowly toward you.

Mr North dribbles on about how fight club is a masterpiece barely allowing you to get a word in edgewise. But when he finally stops talking you manage to squeeze in "so are these fun drugs?" You smile, "I had some of those while I was at Berkely."

"They can be very fun." He almost smiles, taking the few steps from the elevator and opening an office door, "I think you'll like them."

"Yay." You nearly die as the word leaves your lips and you watch Mr North fumble with the lock of his safe. "What ya got in there?" You try to feign interest in a statue on the opposite wall, while not so obviously trying get a peak in side

"Only these." He shakes the pill bottle, throwing it on his desk before coming up behind you. "You're very pretty you know." His arm tightens around your waist, "Such a shame," his fingers press into your cheeks, while his filthy tongue licks at your neck, "Open up."

"Let me go." You shout, piercing his shoe with your heel and making him falter.

"I didn't take you for a fighter." He sneers, wrapping his hand around your throat to tilt you head back.

"I'll fucking kill you," your breath almost as heavy as Jason's words echoing in your head.

"You don't need a gun. It's a simple mission. In and out." In and out, like fuck. You're going to kill him right after you kill this asshole.

"Bit wider," Mr North orders you, pressing your cheeks even harder.

"I can fucking see you." You glare at the looming reflection in the mirror, "the fuck are you doing?"

"I don't need help." Jason struts forward, twirling his gun on his finger, "I can do this on my own," he shoots Mr North in the leg making him fall to his knee and release you, "I'm a big girl."

"I would never," you kick Mr North in his shitty face, "call myself a big girl."

"Who the fuck are you?" Mr North spits a tooth out.

"You're not involved in this," Jason snaps at him, shooting him in his other leg, "be quiet. Wait- what happened to your neck?" He stares at the finger prints you imagine are there.

"The fuck does it matter? Where have you been?"

"Mingling." Jason rolls his eyes at your dissmissiveness.

"What-" Mr North winces when you press your heel into his bullet wound.

"Shut up now." You spit on the man before turning to Jason, "Give me my gun."

"Bossy," Jason's says, throwing your stainless steel Colt, "you going to shoot me?" He asks when you point the gun at him.

"Not today." You swerve, letting your gun off into Mr North's head, "those are the drugs there. Let's get em to babs."

"Are you sure you're ok?" He stops you, his fingers grazing along your cheekbones and brushing your hair back.

"Yes. But if you take my gun from me again," you stare up right into his eyes, "it'll be the last thing you ever see."

"No, the last thing I'd see would be you're beautiful face," his nose brushes yours, "and boy, what a way to go."

[officialleehadan]

Alternative Uses

hello darlings! Prompt month continues! Hopefully I'll be able to get the stories out a little faster in the coming weeks. Today's story was brought to you by Six! Darling, thank you so much for your support!

Prompt: Blood Fire

+++

Keeli never knew that Morzan could heal.

Generally, healing was the domain of light-path mages. The realm of those who were capable of magic other than destruction. Keeli couldn’t do it. She had thought healing as a dark-path mage was impossible.

Except Morzan wasn’t just a dark-path mage, he was a blood-mage­, and apparently that came with more than just his preferred flavor of ghoulish murder.

His temper, however, remained as fiery as ever.

“If you move, I will take your leg off at the knee and leave you to bleed out,” he snarled to the man he was attempting to save. The farmer caught the wrong end of an axe during the bandit attack. He was bleeding terribly when Keeli and Morzan reached him, but Morzan pulled his dark, bloody magic around his hands and got to work. “This is difficult enough as it is!”

Despite his harsh words, his hands were swift and as gentle as could be managed. The farmer’s blood wove around his fingers in ribbons until they flowed back into the man’s veins, and stayed there.

“Can you mend it?” Keeli asked, primarily serving as a source of power, although Morzan gathered plenty off the bandits they killed. He had stored the death energy away in a pocket full of crystals, ready for use later. He was probably gathering power off this man’s pain too. The power was there, whether or not he drew it from the air, after all. It didn’t harm the many any for Morzan to take the magic that naturally gathered around strong emotions. “His wound?”

“Not like a true healer could, but I can keep him from bleeding out, and I can close it up,” Morzan said, and focused hard on his work. Keeli slipped into his thoughts to see what he was doing, and watched intently. He pulled on her power and she fed it to him in a steady stream. “I can clot it. It won’t serve to heal the damage. If there wasn’t a true healer available, he would still be in danger.”

It was just as well that the man himself had passed out as Morzan worked, and also that the town did have not one but three healers, one of whom had a pair of apprentices as well. They were making the rounds of the wounded, but Keeli and Morzan were doing their best to help.

Morzan’s unexpected talent for saving lives, rather than taking them, seemed to surprise them both.

“I’ve mostly done this on myself,” Morzan explained when one of the healers reached them, traded thankful nods, and took his place to begin mending the worst of the damage. She probably wouldn’t heal it completely; there were still a lot of wounded who needed attention. The bandit attack caught too many people outside the walls, and the death toll was still mounting. “After… well. It works. That’s what matters. Blood doesn’t have to be used the way I usually use it.”

“It’s good to see a blood mage using the power for something useful, for once.”

It was the most senior of the healers. An aged man who leaned on his walking stick as if he hadn’t just used it to bash in he head of one of the bandits. He had a swing like an ogre. Keeli didn’t want to be on the wrong end of that stick.

“Most of us are fairly mad,” Morzan said wryly and joined the healer at the next patient, a woman who sported several nasty cuts on her arms. The reward for saving the lives of several young children. The healer brushed his fingers over her forehead and Keeli caught her and eased her to the ground as she fell asleep on the spot. Kinder than the alternative, given the healer was pulling out supplies to stitch the cuts. “If she doesn’t need magic, I can do that.”

“She needs both,” the healer said, and offered a hand to shake. “My name is Feverfew. You’re Morzan, yes? And Keeli? Heard the others call you by name.”

“You have us,” Keeli said. He pointed to hi satchel and she retrieved it for him. “How do we help?”

“You’re already helping by taking some of the load off us,” Feverfew told her briskly and got to work, cleaning the cuts. He passed a bottle to Morzan. “Coat all of them in that. Be generous. I have more.”

“As you say,” Morzan said and got to work. Keeli wondered at how obedient he was being, and jumped when he gave her a little mental snap for the thought. He also offered an explanation. (I respect healers. Always have. They’re the other side of my work as a blood mage. They gain power by helping as I do by killing.)

(Healers don’t gain power by healing,) Keeli pointed out, and moved to hold one of the cuts closed so Feverfew could stitch it closed with tiny, neat stitches. (We’re the only ones who gain power by spending it.)

(Are you so sure?) Morzan asked and tilted his head at Feverfew. (Look again. Properly.)

Keeli blinked at him, but let her magesight slip over her eyes as he instructed. In this, he was very much her superior and she was inclined to take any instruction he would offer.

At first, there was nothing but the glow of Feverfew’s magic, contained and cleverly-used not for healing, but for warding the wound against infection. It was a good use of power, and would have a longer lasting effect than simply closing the wounds right off.

Then she looked more closely, looked more carefully, and felt the shiver of wonder slide down her spine.

(Low magic,) she said to Morzan triumphantly. (I never saw it before because it’s not magic they’re using, it’s magic that is reacting to them, right)

(Right,) Morzan said. He sent her the tiniest curl of pride that she got it so quickly. (And it gives me an idea for how to deal with my Mistress. We can’t fight her. She’ll tear us apart. But her tower… how much do you know about rubies?)

+++

Blood Fire: (FULL COLLECTION)

Blood Mist

Flower Crown Dreams (Subscriber Only!)

Runes Written

Blood Fire

Red Salt Warning (Subscriber Only!)

Hunter Cry  (Subscriber Only!)

Cool Water Bond

Runes Written Gold

Argument Array

Dreamless Sleep

Forget Our Yesterdays

At the Last Moment

Healing Touch

Unbound, Unbroken

Blood Runes (Subscriber Only)

Ink in Water

In Dreaming Promise (Subscriber Only)

Rupture

In Conflict

Heading Out (Subscriber Only)

Dream a Life

Unexpected Salvo (Subscriber Only)

Alternative Uses (New!)

+++

MASTERLIST

[yanderes-galore]

Can we get a Sammy x Reader for where they listen to the tape and when Sammy asks “Can I get an Amen” the reader actually says Amen? Thanks!

This'll be more like a reaction due to the nature of the request. I wasn't really sure what direction to take with this one ^^;

Amen

Yandere! Sammy Lawrence Short

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Stalking, Kidnapping, Violence, Delusional behavior, Religious themes, Slightly OOC (?)

Sammy had been watching you ever since you fell down to his level. Curiosity had taken hold of both you and him. You were interested in his audio logs... while he was interested in you.

You could make a divine sacrifice.

You listened with morbid curiosity to all of his little logs. Sammy watched you from behind corners and through walls. He didn't think much of you... another lamb to the slaughter.

"Those old songs, yes, I still sing them. For I know you are coming to save me. And I will be swept into your final loving embrace."

He hears his own voice echo through the room while you sit silently and listen. You had hoped listening to these logs could give you insight as to where you are. A story to put together while you find a way to leave....

All these logs a bible of Sammy's design.

You had no idea Sammy, the man of the tapes, was watching your every move as if he was judging your every action.

"But, love requires sacrifice..."

The recording pauses, leaving you to think to yourself momentarily. In a way those words were true....

"Can I get an amen?"

"Amen...." You agree, partially echoing it while you still try to process your situation. You probably didn't even mean it. You manage to surprise Sammy when you say it. Perhaps you don't need to be a sacrifice....

You just need to be shone the light of his savior!

"My savior... this lamb will prove loyal to you, I'm sure of it."

Sammy mumbles to himself, eyes eagerly watching you from his mask. The simple word that fell from your lips was enough to get him hooked. His rotten and inky mind was delusional enough to think you were just like him....

He was the only one who worshipped his savior. The studio was awfully lonely and you held potential.... Why kill this lamb when you can make them a pet to the shepherd?

You had no idea that by just saying Amen on accident to a tape would seal your fate. You were unaware of your new secret admirer. Not until he showed up behind you at one point...

Only to bash your head in with the handle of his axe.

Darkness quickly covers you, thick like ink flooding your head. The smell of thousands of inkwells didn't do anything to help your head pain. When you come to, you're tied in front of a madman.

"I was wondering when I'd recieve an answer to my prayers...."

He's giddy to see another person, especially you. He thinks you'll be a great servant to the ink demon. He just hopes his savior won't mind him sparing your blood....

"Wh-"

You pause your reaction to hiss in pain, your head throbbing. The smell of ink makes you feel as though you shoved Sharpies up your nose, it's worse when Sammy holds your face.

"You'll be perfect. I'll do everything I can to show you the path of my savior."

You can barely comprehend the religious nut's words. You only groan at the light and his touch. Sammy hums, noticing the damage he's done.

"Sleep, my sheep.... It appears I hit you a bit too hard. I promise when you awake, I will show you the way of my savior. You will be so much happier in his light... with me."

He lightly caresses your face, leaning closer.

"Now... can I get an amen?"

[magnificentmicrowave]

Okay genuine question now, but how do you handle stress and pressure whenever you're stuck with a drawing? Like what do you do when a specific part of it looks irregular, an no matter what you do it'll always look off or bad? I have this problem while drawing eyes, and sometimes it works on a simple angle, and other times they just look inhuman, and terrible, and no matter how many times I redraw them it keeps getting worse. Also, here's your egg girl smoking the fattest dooby, since I blew your ask box with that boob question, sorry!

HOOOOLY FUCK she's absolutely schpuffin on that shit. thank you anyway this is a really good question and something i feel very strongly about. here is where i will go on a rant

in general when people are giving art advice, it's easy to hyperfocus on the technical aspects of improvement, but i think it is just as pertinent if not moreso to put an emphasis on improving your mental as far as art is concerned. i had artblock that lasted far too long, and lost years of potential art progress just because my mental towards art was just completely wrong. you NEEEEEED to enjoy and want to do what you're doing or else you'll start associating the act of art with all those bad feelings. self-discipline is also important to an extent, but anyway

with all that being said, concerning your specific problem i think there are a couple main pointers that i think more people starting out in art should know: frustration and lack of confidence in your lines comes from lack of understanding. when you are struggling to define or place lines in the right place, all that means is you lack the right resources in your mental library to recreate those details in your art. polishing a turd, no matter what you do, will only get you a shiny turd!! to that end, use references, so that your art can have a solid skeleton based in reality for you to build on. for the love of GOD please use references. sometimes i'll overlay an image and trace it just so i can get a good idea of how the limbs are working in space. as a quick example:

i'm not going to go all in on this specific process, but my point is: don't feel ashamed to use references, trace to learn, or use whatever tools at your disposal you may have. not everyone can be kim jung gi and have an insanely large mental library, so don't feel bad about not being able to draw your art 100% from memory. when you're drawing the same line over and over you're practically gambling points of your own sanity away in the hopes that the right lines will magically appear. sometimes you just gotta step away and take a mental reset, or trash the piece altogether. that's another thing, don't be too attached to every little doodle you make, not every piece you work on is supposed to be a new magnum opus.

this was more philosophical than technical advice but hope this helps :) i don't want anyone else to go thru the years of artblock that i did bashing my head against the mental wall that i was. take things at your own pace and, most importantly, enjoy what ya doin,

tl;dr: frustration comes from lack of understanding, use more refs, don't feel bad about trashing WIPs

[lavender-z-love]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙊𝙛 𝙔𝙤𝙪ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

✧.* Solon X Black.FemReader

・❥・Genre: Mc Flirts, Sick, Caring, Romantic, Fluff

・❥・Warnings: Light Cussing, Blood, Tiny bite, Mentions of Infections, anything else let me know!

・❥・A/n: Just started reading the webtoon and Fell instantly in love with sunghoo's character! I just had to take the opportunity to write about him! Please enjoy! Also! The dividers do not belong to me.

・❥・Wordcount: 1k

"I thought you were supposed to be helping me."

"Oh, I am...Just taking my time." Solon turns in his chair, his gold and blue eyes shoot an icy glare at you. You could feel it, but you were so sleepy, you didn't even care.

"Seriously whats going on with you?"

You slump in his against the wall completely sliding to the floor. Your coily and curly hair spilling everywhere.

He rolled his eyes, getting up from the desk before kneeling at your side. "Hey Drama Queen, tell me whats wrong."

"Solon, I dont feel good!"

"Let me guess you want me to do something about it?" His brows raise, he was certain of what you wanted. Your eyes fluttered at him as he gazes down at you. "Can you pleassse use your power to cool me off, Darling?"

He frowned rolling his eyes,"Do you even love me? Hm? You seem to love using my hands as some sort of cooling treatment.."

"No! Of course not! I really to love you Solon!" You pounce on him, making him fall backwards. Nuzzling your nose into his neck as you straddled him. "I love you alot my grumpy vampy-wolf hybrid!!"

He felt bashful, attempting to push you off of him,"Woman! Ugh!" That is until, he actually felt how warm you were. "Wait..Y/n get up for a second."

"Hm? Whats up?"

"Snowflake, you're really warm..Like fever kind of warm." He sits up with you in his lap, brushing your curls out of your face. "You really aren't feeling well huh?"

You nodded, Solon felt guilty..of course he wasn't serious when he said,'You seem to love using my hands as some sort of cooling treatment.' However, you could've took it literal if it felt that way.

"Here..",He whispered holding both hands on your cheeks, his hands were literal ice. You sighed with relief, leaning into his touch, your hands resting on his. "Hey, Im so-"

"I know you didn't mean it Solon",You reassured him. He nodded,"Good..Good."

A few moments of silence go by, before Solon begins speaking. "How do you feel?"

"Good",you muttered.

"Any nausea?" You shook your head in response.

"Pain anywhere? Is..Is it that Time of the month?",he asked a bit embarrassed.

You giggled at his embarresment, "No grumpy, it's not."

He smacks his lips,"Oi, Im serious here Y/n."

"Okay, Okay, I can't explain it but..I feel really bad. Sick kinda bad..you know?"

Solon looks closely at you,"Nothing seems out of the ordinary..maybe it's just a infection?"

His hands fall to your forearms, caressing them with a icy sensation. "I can see you dont feel well, could it be a weak feeling? I can't do anything for you besides take care of the fever.."

You shrug,"I guess? What if you take some blood?"

"Are you crazy?! Surely this infection has made you think delusional."

"No! Solon, can't you taste if the blood has been infected or clean? You could taste the infection or remove some of it cant you?"

Technically you were right, you did have a point. With all the animal blood the boys had drank they could taste whether the animal was ill or had diseases or what not. Though, to remove the bad cells from the red or white blood cells...he'd never tried to do that.

"I-I guess? But I've never drank Human blood before."

Solon was unsure, very hesitant though you told him it was alright. He would fidget for a bit until he got up with you in his arms.

He layed you down gently onto the soft mattress behind you. "Okay, I'll do this for you only once!" He sat beside you taking a deep breath. "When I do this, I need you to stay laying down."

He was nervous, he never drank from a human nor a live being and you were both of those things. He made sure you were comfortable. "It might be uncomfortable or hurt a little."

"Its okay Im ready." You turned your head slightly revealing your neck to him. A dangerously red hue covered his face,"Y-You! Is that where you want me to bite you?! Out of all places?"

"There are other places?"

"Yes! Wrist, arm, leg, knuckle...W-Why the neck you weirdo?"

"You're so cute when you get shy you Icy hybrid!" You teased pointing to your neck. Signaling that was the place where you wanted to have your blood drawn.

"Don't call me that!", he whined

He felt so bad seeing you like this, it seemed taboo to him. Though he wasn't going to deny how beautiful you looked.

"Hold my hand okay?"

Solon nodded,"Of course.." Together your hands conjoined, locking digits together. Leaning close to you, you could feel his breath tickling your skin. "Ready?"

"Yeah.."

Soon, a gasp could be heard from you. You squeezed his hand a bit making him pull away. "You okay??"

You sighed,"Yes..what did you find?"

"Oh! Right!", Solon licks the small amount of blood he'd drawn from you. Smacking his lips together tasting what little he had managed to draw with such a shallow bite. "The Taste. It's just a minor infection. It's not viral so you should be able to help fight it with antibiotics."

Solon ran his ringers through your hair, gently speaking you. "Um..You can rest here if you want."

"Oh my Solon, I didn't take you as the bold type.", you tease.

His eye twitches with slight annoyance, though you knew he wasn't. He often put on this act when you teased him. "You can Leave now..."

You giggled at his expression,"I'm sorry Solon. You're just fun to tease. I'll help you then get out of your hair Sol."

As you began to stand up, Solon stopped you, grabbing your hand. "Hey, forget about it..Let's just have you rest for now. Okay?" See? Isn't he sweet? I know. You nodded,"Yeah sure."

There you two lay together beside one another. His cool hands resting on your face as his alternate color eyes gaze back at you. "I'll take care of you..try not to do such while you're ill, Okay?"

You reach for his soft blue hair. Your fingers getting lost in his soft locks. "Alright, Will Do."

"Thank you Y/n."

Written on January 17th! 2023

[yanderu-deredere]

Your drabble about Liam, Fujio, Ryouta, and Ryuu reacting to darling's past joke confessions was AMAZING. You knocked it out of the park!!! Got me giggling and kicking my feet ehe. Continuation with the same bois: Darling and said yandere are enjoying the loving couple life these past few months with the occasional outings and dates ignoring those red flags darling is colourblind. But a challenger approaches! The yanderes' past fling blatantly flirts with them in front of darling.

Before the yandere can intervene, darling squares up. Darling drapes herself on their arm possessively while sweetly threatening extreme violence. Something like "He's spoken for. Fuck off or I'll stab your eye with this pen to make soup, okay~" The pen clicks. The past fling runs/yandere chases them away before things escalate. Darling happily asks the yandere, "Why are you staring, baby?? I belong to you and you belong to me just like you said! I'm responding to your passionate love with all my might!" they've awakened a sleeping beast with this one HELP jashlsjksdfkjbsd. Focusing on the wrong things type of darling.

a/n: IM SO GLAD THAT SO MANY OF YOU LIKED THAT POST SM lmaooo this is like the third ask ive gotten abt it!! ofc kudos to the requester too lol! and i absolutely love love this sequel!

warning: female reader as requested, descriptions of violence

liam arieh ★ profile

"Liammy!"

The arm around your waist tightened considerably as Liam started trying his best to walk faster. He knew taking you around the block for dinner wasn't the best idea and, yet, he'd let your puppy dog eyes win him over.

Now look at where that brought him.

"Liam!" The shrill voice seemed to only get more shrill and, before Liam could consider doing anything else, someone latched onto his free arm "Where you going?"

"I'm with my wife." Liam answered snappily though there was a dark smile on his face as he snatched his arm back. The girl had gripped it hard enough that she left claw marks. Disgusting.

"Wh-Who is this, Liam?" You buried yourself into his side, sweet confused eyes staring up at him.

Liam felt his blood turn cold. He'd dealt a little with your self-confidence (or lack thereof) so he'd hoped that you were better now. He worried that wasn't the case and that you'd mistake this situation for something it really wasn't.

He'd slept around before, yes, but they'd never meant anything. Nobody did until he met you.

Liam quickly opened his mouth, desperately wanting to explain though he tried his best to keep a calm expression on his face. Before he could, though, the stupid girl on his other side spoke up.

"Oh, are you Liam's flavor of the week? I was last month's, you know." She flipped her hair over her shoulder, her voice grating on both Liam's and yours patience. "Though I don't think that'll matter since you won't last long."

Laim felt anger flare in him. His blood practically boiled at her words. He was about to push her aside when you suddenly swept up, pushing her yourself. Hard. Hard enough that she fell and hit her head on the brick wall behind her.

Then, you stepped over, tucking your hair behind your ear almost demurely as you crouched a little over Liam's ex's body "Well, I think you won't last long if I bashed your head into this wall any harder, hmm?"

"Don't touch things that don't belong to you and we won't have a problem." You added as you leaned a bit closer, as if telling her a secret. Then, you straightened and dusted yourself.

Liam had watched every single second of what you'd done and the hot blood in his veins immediately turned from anger to lust. He wrapped his arms around your waist, quickly pulling you to him and pressing a hard kiss against your temple.

"That's my girl."

You just preened in the face of his affection, soft smile on your face "That's right. I'm yours and you're mine."

"So, next time someone comes near you, don't let them." You pouted, huffing a little and crossing your arms.

He just chuckled "Now where'd this demanding angel come from?"

"You told me you love me, right? I'm just returning that love tenfold!" You looked up at him, cheek pressing against his collar and your hands going over his hands

Liam just laughed and thanked whatever higher power was out there that they sent you right to him.

fujio watanabe ★ profile

Ever since the two of you got together, Fujio refused to let you leave his sight. Though you reassured him multiple times that you loved him and wouldn't go anywhere, he still dragged you around.

This time, he'd dragged you to his gym. While he was working out, you were just sitting on a nearby bench, observing the way his glistening muscles seemed to flex and un-flex as he lifted up heavy barbells.

Just as he'd finished his last one, some woman suddenly ran across the whole gym and wrapped her arms around his torso, hugging him tight "Fujio!"

He'd grunted and let the barbell clatter to the ground with a heavy thud. Already, blood seemed to heat in his veins. He didn't like it when people ambushed him from his blind spots.

Momentarily, Fujio imagined what it’d be like to lift the barbell in front of him and wack this woman with it. He doubted you’d like the blood though so, he gritted his teeth and resisted the urge. “Let go of me.”

She at least seemed to realise that he was serious because she let go immediately, a nervous expression on her face “Fujio, baby, what’s wrong?”

“You’re what’s wrong.”

Fujio stiffened at your voice and immediately frowned. Fuck, the last thing he ever wanted was to create a misunderstanding with you that would cause you to slip from his grasp. Though he knew that he’d never really let you leave him, it was better if you stayed of your own volition.

“Who’s this? Your current whore?” The woman—Fujio’s ex, you guessed—eyed you up and down as if trying to assess your threat level. From the infuriating smirk on her face, she seemed to think she had something over you.

Before she could say much more, you swung the kettlebell you’d found at her head. It connected with her temple and she crumpled to the ground, whining and crying. Without hesitation, you dropped the same kettlebell on her chest; it was light enough not to injure her but it definitely pushed all the air out of her lungs.

Then, you squatted next to her, your face especially close to hers as you whispered in her ear “I’m actually his girlfriend and I’d appreciate if you didn’t touch him. Thank you.”

“Or I might have to find a heavier weight to keep you down permanently, you know?” You added, sweet smile on your face.

Before you could stand, arms wrapped around you, lifting you into a bridal carry. You looked up and saw that it was Fujio, a dark expression on his face as he nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck, teeth already nibbling and nipping.

"Where the fuck did that come from?" He mumbled against your skin, breath hot and grip on you tight as ever.

You just wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled "I'm yours, remember? Just wanted to act like it."

“Why was that so fucking hot? Holy shit. We need to hit the showers like now.”

ryouta watanabe ★ profile

Ryouta really never went out like ever. The only times he really left his apartment were when he needed to grocery shop and when he needed to do some work in person.

Now that you were his girlfriend, that schedule applied to you too.

He was at his computer like always. You were on his bed behind him, playing around with his switch. Though you were extremely concentrated on the game at hand, you couldn't help but be a little soothed by the clack of Ryouta's keyboard.

That was until a discord notification pinged through the speakers. It was soft, almost unnoticeable. But it had interrupted your peaceful time and so you definitely noticed it.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched Ryouta’s fists clench and unclench in the dim light of his computer. With quiet moves, you picked up his phone and dialled your birthday. There, you saw what the discord message said.

“Hey, I know you said you weren’t interested but I really like you and I’d like to meet IRL to see if there’s chemistry.” It read. The icon was of a woman who was using some sort of puppy filter.

You scrolled up a little and saw what their conversation was like. At first, it seemed mostly work related. Then, slowly, the woman started getting more and more personal, wanting desperately to get close to Ryouta.

He rebuffed every single advance but, apparently, the woman just thought he was playing hard to get.

You put the phone down and padded over to Ryouta, his too-big shirt slipping off your shoulders. With surprising ease, you slipped right into his lap, face nuzzling into his neck.

“Darling? What’s wrong?” Immediately, his body relaxed as he pressed a soft kiss against your temple, and the tension left, replaced with a sort of softness that he only ever reserved for you.

You didn’t say anything, just brushed his hands off the keyboard.

With a sense of urgency and a seriousness he’d never seen from you before, Ryouta watched as you typed. “Hi, this is his girlfriend. I’m going to block you on his account now and, if I ever find out that you contacted him ever again, I’m going to take a pen and I’m going to slam it straight into your eye socket.”

Then, as if you needed to say anything else, you wrote a second message that said “Have a good day.”

After that, you didn’t block her like you said you would. Instead, you tucked yourself into Ryouta’s arms and wrapped yourself around him, clinging to him almost like a koala. You even buried your face into his collar bone, wanting to be as close to him as possible.

“You’re mine.” You stated stubbornly. "Like I'm yours, right?"

As Ryouta blocked the random woman who meant nothing to him, he couldn’t agree more.

ryuunosuke yamamoto ★ profile

Ever since the two of you got together, Ryuu was literally permanently attached to your hip. It felt like anywhere you went, he also went. Even in the restroom, when you didn't let him join you, he sat outside and sent you memes.

So, it was no wonder that you were inseparable even when he went to work.

He was wiping down the counters and you were sitting behind the register, happy expression on your face as you browsed through your phone.

The bell tinkled as the door to the creamery opened and someone rushed in "Ryuu!"

Ryuu let out a pained groan and immediately stepped away from the counter, wide eyes eyeing the measly little door that kept the general public from the employees.

"Ryuu, I've missed you so much! Where have you been?" The woman leaned forward, trying to get as close to Ryuu as possible without literally vaulting the counter.

Of course, Ryuu leaned away and tried to hide his grimace "Hey, uh, what can I get you?"

"I mean, I want to ask you for my number for the fifth time but I have a feeling you really won't give it to me." She whined a little, pathetic pout playing across her lips.

That's when you looked up, blank expression on your face.

"I'm not on the menu." Ryuu proudly spoke up, trying his best to keep his anger down lest he get reprimanded by the higher ups.

"Though you are the most delicious thing--" Before the woman could continue, Ryuu heard a thunk and the woman screamed loud.

He looked to you who had suddenly gotten beside him. Then he looked down to see that you'd cut the woman's finger off with one of the ice cream scrapers.

"He said he's not on the menu." You'd stated simply, sweet customer service smile clear on your face "Now scram before you lose your whole arm and not just your finger."

She looked to Ryuu with wide eyes as she clutched her profusely bleeding hand to her chest. Instead, Ryuu just laughed like you'd said the funniest joke in the world.

"Don't look at me. Whatever the missus wants, she gets, you know."

[accultant]

Send me ☺ for a loving/affectionate text

Send me ☺ for a loving/affectionate text letter

Dandelion,

The drawings in your last letter are delightful. I hope you don't mind or get too bashful when I say I've put it up on my wall. Actually, I've got three of your letters tacked up now. I much prefer this artistic endeavor to the taxidermy. The dozen cats you drew in your very first letter are still my favorite - they sit above my workbench, where I find myself a lot of the time. I've gotten new hobbies, too. I find curses just fascinating. They're like puzzles, finding out how they work and how to break them. You know I love puzzles. Anyway, your cats - I, unfortunately, have not adopted eleven more cats after Steelclaw (yes, she is still alive, you'll be distraught to find), but I suppose I have become quite acquainted with the neighborhood strays. [A drawing of six cats, with arrows pointing to their corresponding names. Radish. Spike. Michaela. Cat. Gretel. Big Man.] Don't worry. I'm not telling you what neighborhood. Just the general neighborhood that I may or may not live in. I understand the secrecy. I'm pretty good at secrecy, you know. <- Still too soon? Sorry.

Our time apart is still hard, I miss you very much, but I do understand. It's getting easier. I think I'm getting a hang of this 'having a life' thing. Every day is a coin toss, but I do think I've been happier, more comfortable, generally. It's nice. I hope you're finding you can say the the same about your own life. You're having quite an adventure, it seems. Saving the world wasn't enough? Well, good! Keep exploring! Keep making marks of your own! Even if those marks are being banned from, what, eight cities now? You're living, that's wonderful! Go! Find more beautiful things! You always have been good at finding beauty around you. I'm so glad you're getting to see more of this world you've saved. It loves you, you know. But do still get your rest.

Wyll just passed me, he says "Hello, Puck."

I don't have much else to say this time around, I just wanted to write and say hello, I miss you, I love you, I'm happy you're happy, etc. etc. Is it getting old? Too bad. [A drawing of a cat teasingly sticking out it's tongue goes here. Next to it is a dog with a kissie mark on his head.] Will you tell Astarion I said hello? And give him this: [Tacked here is a small scrap of paper that has a little drawing of a sun on it, with a bat lounging with a sunhat and drinking a blood cocktail. It's been enchanted with glowing ink to shimmer like sunlight.] I know he's quite a creature of the night, but I do miss our sunbathing together. I hope he's doing well. I'm so glad you have each other. You don't have to tell him all that. It's embarrassing. Just give him the paper. Maybe just leave all this out, actually, only you get to see what a sap I've become.

Someone just walked into the shop. Oh, good, it looks like they've brought a Ouija board. That's the third one this week. They're watching me write this, I should probably get to work. It is a little funny how they're shuffling their feet, though. They keep eyeing the bell on the counter, they're probably debating if they need to ring it or not. Haha. Okay, fine, I'll wrap this up -

As always, I love you, I miss you, I am proud of you.

Your sibling who loves you, misses you, and is proud of you,

Ia

[msmargaretmurry]

i’ve been on transit all day and have been marinating my blorbos (haw!matthew and leon) and just in case you’re still answering asks: how does matthew react to leon’s true lovey-dovey affectionate self once they’re a bit more settled and emotions aren’t running as high anymore? does he bite leon if he tries to slow dance with matthew in front of their friends? does he get bashful about it? does he love it? thank you so much i hope you have a great day

i am always answering asks for you, my friend!! and oh, he loves it, but it takes him ages to get used to it. matthew is an affectionate guy, too, once he gets past his traumas and agonies. he's definitely more conservative about pda than leon, but not opposed to it; he's probably never going to be a big fan of it in public public, but amongst friends and family he just needs time to get used to it. there is a pretty long stretch where he gets embarrassed and sheepish about it (and maybe bites leon once or twice 😂) but, like, he wants that kind of affectionate relationship. like with everything else, it's mostly just a question of letting himself have it. leon is pretty understanding about it -- he mostly gets that if matthew squirms away it's not personal. they have a couple of small tiffs about it (the first few times they hang out with friends who know they're together, matthew is super jumpy about leon touching him -- in front of people?? people who care about them and know they love each other?? mortifying!) but since they've learned how to use their words now it never blows up into a huge thing.

the thing that's hardest for matthew is figuring out how to act with leon in front of his family, because obviously they're the most important to him, and he's so nervous about how his relationship with leon will look to them and fit into their lives. it takes him forever to get comfortable being affectionate with leon in front of them, even when all the other tkachuks are like, buddy, please, it's FINE. and leon gets this part, he really does, he lets matthew call all the shots on the touching front when they're around keith and chantal. deep in the gdocs somewhere i have a snippet of a scene that's set, like, six or seven years in the future, where matthew is facetiming with brady and he still turns the phone away when leon gets home and comes to give him a kiss hello, even though it's very obvious that he's getting kissed hello and brady has known for years that they're together.

a while back on twitter i was doing one of those "give me a pairing and a one-word prompt and i'll write a little snippet" writing games and someone gave me matthew/leon + "photo" -- i wrote this tiny soft scene set after the first time leon comes to visit matthew and his family in the summer, and i am feeling self-indulgent this morning so please enjoy:

Matthew is over at his parents' house for one last big family dinner before Taryn heads back to Charlottesville for the fall when Taryn corners him in the foyer and presses the photo into his hands.

"I took this when Leon was here. I thought you might want it," she says. "Don't be mad at me."

It's a picture clearly taken from inside the house, looking out at the back porch. There's no zoom on Taryn's Polaroid camera, which has been getting a workout as she tries to get enough good shots to fill her dorm room walls, so Matthew and Leon are slightly distant and a little blurry, but still recognizable. They're leaning on the railing, bare-footed, close together, their backs to the camera. Matthew, then, is pressing a kiss to Leon's shoulder. Now, Matthew's heart turns over with a kind of weird, happy longing.

"Why would I be mad at you?" he asks.

"Because you're super weird about PDA," Taryn says. "I wasn't spying or anything. The window was literally wide open."

"Yeah, no, it's fine," Matthew says, still looking at the picture. It was only a few weeks ago, but it feels way too far away already. He lifts his arm, and Taryn tucks herself under it, squeezing him around the waist. Matthew kisses the top of her head. "Thank you."

He texts Leon a picture of the photo later. Gift from Taryn, he types along with it.

Cute, Leon texts back. Then, Missing that

Missing you, Matthew texts. Sure you don't want a 2nd missouri vacation this summer?

Next summer were doing mallorca or something, Leon says, but just a few seconds later, Tell me whens good and ill buy a ticket.

[enigmatist17]

This came to me due to a dream, and I kinda like it 🤷

I am also a sucker for wing AU's, so that helps too :)

---

He was still not sure how Jack had done it, though that could be said for just about everything that psychopath did. The initial brand on Jack's own face had been caused by some sort of explosion, but the bastard recreated the same mark on Timothy after months of tests that never seemed to end, the pain unlike anything Timothy had and would ever experience. He'd been unconscious for nearly a week after that, waking to find that the Vault energy had done far more than leave a mark on the face that he'd been given not long ago.

"Well well well, isn't this just neat?" Jack had crooned from Timothy's bedside, the former Vault Hunter shivering at the crazed gleam in his eyes.

The Vault material that Jack had used to give Timothy the same scar had changed more than his skin, faintly glowing purple veins marking two spots between his shoulder blades. They had been discovered after Timothy had passed out, and within the first day, signs of something growing from inside his body captured more than the passing interest of the medical staff. By the third day, it was revealed to be a set of wings, dark grey feathers streaking with glowing purple streaks almost looking like they were made of stone, the faint thrum of eridian power felt only by Jack when he was close enough to his doppelganger.

No one could explain the extra appendages, and after more extensive and painful testing, it seemed their reason was known only to the Vault.

Timothy got to fly with them exactly once over the next few years, more of a short glide in the middle of the night on Pandora. It had felt absolutely wonderful to be in the air, embracing the bend and flow of the wind over his stone-like feathers like an old friend. That flight was one of the last things he did before Jack had grown irritated with him, sending the only clone to actually share his DNA to some casino in the middle of fucking nowhere.

Jack said it was a reward, but when Timothy was held down and his wings restrained painfully against his back shortly after he arrived, he knew it was anything but. The harness was deceptively soft around his chest, the metal along its back painful when it was slowly ratcheted close to his back, leaving only the barest of movements possible.

"I have some nasty little rebels sniffing around, and I can't let them know you're still alive, can I?" The Hyperion CEO whistled as he watched Timothy struggle, a new holowatch replacing the old one Timothy had been given so long ago. "Don't try and get smart without my eyes on you; free those pretty little wings, and I'll get an alert. However, if you play nice and keep this place pumping money for me, I'll let you get some free time."

It was a promise that never came true, as Jack was murdered less than a year later, and the casino went into lockdown.

Timothy had pretty much gone insane after that, spending more than the occasional night bashing his head into a wall when his wings ached in agony. Nothing he could do could get the harness off, and no one felt safe enough to try and tackle it without causing him some serious physical harm, not that there were many people who Timothy had let try. He was the last of a dead breed, Jack's iconic face becoming a symbol of either pure hatred or pure madness, depending on the person and time of day. Another thing driving Timothy closer and closer to the edge of his already fractured sanity were the lights, the lights that never turned off because you were supposed to lose yourself to them. Most people could tune them out after a while, but for the changed man, his eyesight had also been affected by the Vault technology. While he could still see just fine in the daytime, Timothy realized that he had gained a sort of night vision a few months after he was allowed to be out and about, a fact he had kept to himself. Now, it was just another lance of neverending pain in his side, only getting relief when he slept.

The next seven years consisted of running and hiding, never staying in one of his many hidden bases too long in fear of being found by Pretty Boy or random trapped denizens. It's a sheer wonder that he doesn't bite the head off of the Vault Hunters fool enough to breach the Jackpot, bursts of hysterical laughter bubbling up as he guides them to his current hideaway, giving the Hunters a small bastion of safety. Moxxi's demands are unnecessary; Timothy is almost giddy as he agrees to give her everything but the codes he needs for his freedom - the way he vibrates with intensity is not lost among the small group.

He only dares to hope when their heist crew is assembled, the Tower no longer an impenetrable figure that loomed over every doomed soul.

His holowatch somehow survives the extensive torture he's put through when Pretty Boy becomes increasingly more upset as the Vault Hunters push on, the pain almost like an old friend as familiar instruments cut and burned the closer his saviors came. It also survives the panic that leads to Timothy slicing off his Winning Hand to save everyone on the station, . Naturally, it fails moments after his adrenaline crashes, the small group of Hunters noticing the reveal with surprise as Timothy falls to his knees, just too tired to fight any longer. He vaguely hears Moxxi's startled curse when a holo-double of the operative catches Timothy before he has a chance to topple onto his back, just closing his eyes with a pained whine at his entire body screaming at him in pain.

He blacks out when something touches his back, the harness that had restrained him for so freaking long going slack as someone says something to him.

Nope, Timmy was tired, and he was just going to sleep and hope he feels better; call back in 7 to Never business days.

---

The ache that had always accompanied Timothy when he woke was gone, and for a long time, he tried to wonder how. It hits him when he slowly shifts, the feeling of a proper bed with sheets underneath him the first clue that something was different. Pretty Boy's laughter, a fight with a massive robot, the slicing of laser through prosthetics all flash through his mind, and Timothy shoots up with a wheeze. The harness is gone, and his wings have been carefully extended across the bed he'd been placed on in a small room that hadn't been in use for a long time. The movement made the feeling of pins and needles shoot across the extended appendages, and Timothy's head dropped onto his pillow with a whimper as his remaining hand gripped the closest pillow as he slowly took a deep breath in and out.

"You alright boyo?" He should be alarmed at not sensing an extra body in the room, but he's not dead yet, so therefore it doesn't matter.

"I'll let you know when I know." The other man softly chuckles as he moves around, soon placing a water bottle by his hand alongside some sort of protein bar. "Thanks."

"Ya know, never 'eard of a fella with wings." The older man, Zane he finally remembers with an internal wince, idly comments as he crosses back across the room, grabbing some sort of bag as Timothy drains the water he'd been given. "Didn' see Jack with 'em either."

"No, the jackhole didn't have any, I was the unlucky one to be cursed with them." Timothy sighed, slowly sitting up and grinning a little when he carefully flexed his wings, the movement painful but manageable. Zane doesn't press him for any more information, holding up the bag as he watches the other for a few moments.

"Yer feathers are a mess, and I called up a friend ta help, as I've got no experience with such things." The thought of some stranger touching him sent Tim's heart pounding, and his mouth went dry as Zane watched him have a mini-breakdown. "He's a good one."

"I-I um, as flattered as I am I..." He wants to run, hide from the inevitable look of revulsion, of hands that could cause pain. "I don't, I can't, you know?"

Zane raised an eyebrow, and Timothy hunched in on himself.

"You let us help this far, let us keep helpin'." The voice normally full of sarcasm was gentle, faintly glowing prosthetic eye flashing for a moment after the doppleganger slumped in defeat. It's not long before the door swishes open, and a slightly familiar man steps inside with one hand behind his back, the other raised in greeting.

"Greetings! I am Sir Hammerlock, and have been asked to assist you with your remarkable appendages." Mismatched eyes widen in recognition of the name, and Timothy finally slings his legs over the side of the bed, feeling a bit hopeful at hearing news of someone he'd tentatively called an ally.

"Are you related to Aurliea?" This question seems to catch the other for a loop, though he isn't entirely surprised as he remains by the door.

"Yes, she was my sister. I was told you were one of those who'd fought with her on Helios years ago." The past tense knocked the air out of Timothy's lungs, a familiar voice snickering deep within his mind at having hope.

"Oh...I'm sorry." The older man gives Timothy a look he can't place, finally moving over to his side and looking at his back with a soft hum.

"This may be an uncomfortable process, but I can see you have not been able to care for yourself in some time. Zane shall be my assistant. Please feel free to stop me at any time if you grow uncomfortable, I am here to provide aid."

Uncomfortable was an understatement. The next several hours nearly left Timothy on the brink of tears more than once, not that he was too surprised. Many of his feathers had been bent or damaged from being restrained for so long, and before Hammerlock could even get to the cleansing stage, he had to remove old feathers and align them properly. Despite being made of a material that shouldn't allow for flight, Hammerlock was pleased to learn that, at the very least, it prevented the normal potential parasites or infections that preceded a lack of grooming care.

Score one for Timothy, yay.

Zane ended up being more of a support pillar to keep the poor body double upright as the hunter straightened feathers and helped coax some sort of glowing dust from along the upper parts of his wing lining. The feeling of it gently being worked into his feathers and finally making them look like one smooth appendage turned his bones to jelly, face smooshed into Zane's jacket. The operative hummed in amusement as he kept the other upright, carding a hand through Timothy's overgrown hair.

"Ya know, we really outta lie him down no?"

"Soon, we still need to wash him down in the shower once I finish." Hammerlock tutted as he carefully undid a nasty set of tangled feathers, glad he could soon sit upright and free his aching back from the hunched-over position he'd been in for some time. "You've done remarkably well Timothy, I cannot fathom how you endured all of this on your own."

"Oh you know, running, hiding, strangling the occasional kitten, the usual." Timothy giggled a little bit, but the noise was anything but pleasant. "Tried to off myself too many times, kept getting dragged back from the abyss. Didn't think I'd ever get that damn thing off you know?"

"It shall all be different from here on out." Timothy shrugged, not sure who was going to take someone like him in this godforsaken universe. If he had been truly honest, he never thought about what was going to come next after he got his freedom, save for a bullet to the brain. Having people protecting him, deactivating the bomb in his face that had leashed him to Hyperion the moment he signed his contract?

No, no, that never crossed his mind, not even as he stood alone on the bridge of Sanctuary, watching the casino drift further and further away.

[makorays]

I'm curious if its ok to ask about how it is to be bipolar like do you feel different or anything? have you always been bipolar? how do you know you have it?

you'll want to get a psychological evaluation done, it's how i got diagnosed. but even without a diagnosis i probably could've figured it out. this is a chart i made of how my overall mood felt on a scale from 0 to 10 on every day of 2022 and 2023. anything below that red line in the middle is when my mood is low enough to make accomplishing anything more than super basic tasks very difficult.

i actually really wish i had another chart to compare mine to, because uh, i'm PRETTY SURE this isn't normal. see how i'll like, have a string of good days, but then all of a sudden i flip and feel like absolute garbage for a bit?

bipolar is characterized by one's mood shifting in and out of hypomania and depression with little to no apparent cause. it typically doesn't manifest until adulthood. starting from when i was an adult, i kept feeling super super depressed without having any idea why, i'd always search my head to see if there was anything weighing on me at the time but i always came up short. or if i DID find something to be upset about, it was only on my mind AFTER the bad feelings already hit, and the bad feelings made me ruminate on the upsetting thought and feel hopeless.

imagine being so happy for a couple of days that you accomplish everything you wanted to do that week, music feels more amazing than usual, everything is exciting, you love the world and everyone and yourself and everything is great.

now imagine waking up after one of those days and having the first thought of the morning being "god i want to die." not a single apparent reason for it, you were feeling fine the night before, but all of a sudden everything is just wrong. everything hurts. you feel so weak that you have to muster up strength just to do basic household chores. you don't care about anything. all of your dreams, everything you've spent your life working for, all of it feels completely pointless. even if you had the motivation to work on something, you certainly don't have the energy. the simple act of moving your body starts to feel like you're swimming through black sludge. your personality shifts and you become a worse person because you're filled head to toe with pain and apathy and you have zero energy to deal with anyone's shit. your brain starts dedicating a ton of resources to inject you with raw suffering. you know that feeling you get when you hit your knee against a sharp corner? when a romantic partner breaks up with you? when someone manages to insult you in a way that hits every single insecurity you have? y'know...Pain? imagine feeling JUST that pain, without any of those things to cause it. imagine your default state is not one of neutrality, but of suffering. imagine a voice in your head, indistinguishable from yourself (because it IS you, just not a you you'd like to be) starts mocking you, calling you pathetic, telling you you've wasted your life and you'll never find happiness. imagine being so used to this voice that you've pretty much gotten a total handle on how to silence it, but silencing it does nothing for all the wordless pain you're also feeling. imagine clearing your head of all your worries, searching for that inner peace that normally acts as the bedrock to your mind, and finding it to have been replaced by a fundamental sensation of wrongness. imagine feeling so trapped in the torture chamber that is your head that you start asking yourself which wall of your bedroom would be most optimal for bashing your skull through. imagine questioning how it could be possible for anyone to be forged this broken. imagine being so intimately familiar with the chronic psychic pain that your only logical options are to either suppress it with medication or kill yourself.

now imagine going back to that other version of yourself, the happy one, the one whose brain tells them everything's fine. imagine starting to pull your life together, making more complex and healthy meals, working out every day or two, practicing skills, making progress with projects, and then imagine suddenly and completely losing all motivation to continue doing any of that because another inevitable downswing hits. imagine watching your muscles go back to how they were before you started working out because you literally do not have enough willpower in your entire body to do it consistently while in this state of mind.

so imagine now that there are two versions of you. one of them is living a happy life, making progress, pursuing his dreams, enjoying his time. but then there's this OTHER you, who always trips and falls back down the stairs you worked so hard to climb, who has spent their entire life feeling chronically depressed for no reason, and they're starting to get tired of it. the happy you starts to show up less and less, and the sad you gets to go further and further through their character arc. except, if you're anything like me, that storyline ends in suicide. you have to not give that version of you what they want, no matter how powerful their voice becomes, no matter how badly they want it, no matter how sick and tired they are of having to deal with this, no matter how much suffering they are experiencing. you have to keep torturing them, force them to live, until you can find the right medication to kill them in a way where they won't take your better half down with them.

and i should clarify, this is not multiple personality disorder. i'm still "me" whenever my shifts happen, the different voices in my head are just how i describe my conflicting thoughts. i am a democracy of neurons whose job is to make sure the dark and irrational neurons get outvoted. unfortunately, i can only influence the ones i am conscious of.

anyway hopefully these meds work :)

[clearbun]

several hours late but!!! 15 for Greed and 2 for Ling for the ask game thing?

HIIIIII

15. (favourite ship for the character): Greedol fan for life baby you know how it is <3 I'm so insane over everything you can do with their relationship there's so much symbolism in their dynamic what the hell. Is it romantic is it sexual is it some secret third thing. All of the above and none of the above all at the same time. I'm giving myself so many emotions over them whenever I work on my Dolcetto Lives fic because neither of them are really the same person as the last time they saw each other, and what the hell do you do with that. In other news I've started to unironically enjoy Greed/Mustang a little too much lately

2. (favourite canon thing about the character): THIS IS HARD. I spend so much time thinking about the way he hides behind layers of carefully curated personas Constantly and how quickly he can switch between them. I'd wager the most natural we see him is when he and Ed are half dead inside Gluttony, and even then you can't really confidently say for sure that he's completely let down those walls y'know. I'll never be ok over how completely fine he acts when they're leaving to go back to Xing. See this is why we need Greed lives AUs, if Ed's not around who else is going to bash Ling's head into the wall to get him to deal with his emotions

(ask game)

[x-authorship-x]

Sadly, family fics with them are a bit thin on the ground these days. With how pervasive Qui-Gon bashing has become, it's a lot harder to find fics with him that don't feature it and I mostly have given up trying. I'm usually fine with fics that are a bit judgemental, because he is a flawed man, but I can't read things where he's mean and heartless anymore after reading the books. There still are some fics with good family feelings on ao3 though! If you'd like a rec, off the top of my head I can think of the One Hundred Hours To Rearrange The Stars series by soft_but_gremlin, and the Reprise series by Elfpen, both of which feature time travel and handle Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan (both older and younger) well. I think they'd be up your alley.

Obi-Wan's willful nature gets him into trouble just as often as it gets him out of it, and he really does just have absolutely bonkers luck. Him going off alone to do something always ends with either a really lucky find or him in peril, though often both one right after the other.

(Yeah, the Melida/Daan arc - which is where Obi-Wan does that - drives me up the wall, and not in any of the ways I expected going into it. No joke, I went into those books thinking I'd be pissed as all hell at Qui-Gon, and instead came out of them hating Nield, being incredibly frustrated with Obi-Wan, and thinking that Qui-Gon was pretty much the only person in book 5 who was even remotely reasonable for like 90% of it. I could talk about it for literal hours, because oh my god. They're good books, but it was seriously a head trip to read them after only being exposed to the fanfics, because they're vastly different. I won't go into it or we'd be here all day, but it's a lot more complex than the very black and white take that a lot fandom gives it credit for.)

Wait what, how did I miss you talking about that?! An Inoichi and Shisui master-padawan fic would be so, so good, oh my god. I tried to go back to find anything you had on it, but Tumblr's search function is garbage so I didn't find anything. Which is so sad, please tell me more I want to know about baby padawan Shisui being gently parented by jedi master Inoichi 🥺

I'm glad to know my infodump was well received! I was a little nervous when I woke up and realized I had actually sent it, since I did kinda hit you with it out of nowhere and it is a pretty unpopular opinion these days, so it was a big relief when you didn't seem to mind!

Yo!

Well I'm not surprised either tbh, people love drama in their fics , they love Obi-wan (guilty as charged), and most fics need someone to come down on as the bad guy, so yeah I can absolutely see the fandom skewing that way... also thank you, I appreciate recs, I'll be sure to check them out! ☺️

(also I'm on board with the 'shut up omg neild' train, although you're also right that I've not read the books but just... osmosed the info but oh well)

Ahhh Tumblr is so goddamn broken, I tried to find my own prompt drabbles earlier and... no luck 🙃 more than happy to chat (or rediscuss) stuff tho :)

So I'd like to avoid the inevitable pitfalls of just applying the SWs universe to the Naruto characters and plotline (I'm just... not in the mood for the danzo/suicide/itachi arc, again) and focus on extracting just Inoichi and Shisui into SW plot etc. A cleaner cut that's not too heavy with two series' worth of plot.

So it would be something like... Inoichi is from a mid-rim planet, somewhere metropolitan, he presented a very strong telepathic skill with the force as a child so he was sent to the Jedi. Started training as a healer, using his mental strength to soothe others and the growing darkness, BUT then he found himself (as many Jedi do) called by the force out into the wider galaxy... to the edge of wild space. There, he finds a planet where there is a clan of people who are the only force sensitives on the planet, the Uchiha, who the government have turned against by fear of their abilities and of a coup. The Uchiha are in the middle of being massacred when Inoichi arrives, finds a six year old Shisui running for his life, and intervenes. Inoichi saves him and they run for Inoichi's ship, massively outnumbered and barely make it.

Magic Item Found: Adorable Child

Achievement Unlocked: Single Parenthood!

At the temple, inoichi is a very strong presence in Shisui's life in the creche and has taken a full-time role as a mind healer (to be around all the time lol) but they are both conscious that shisui is monitored for any taint of 'darkness' from his experiences - and the darker use of the force that the Uchiha were known for. Inoichi is more concerned with Shisui's well-being and his own lack of experience with children. Shisui is very worried about not being perfect and not internalising the Jedi code (gonna go freestyle interp on this one) enough to avoid attachment. Cue inoichi teaching himself to be a young father and shisui punishing himself with so much training and emotional pining that the crechmaster is concerned he'll be aging out of initiate classes by the time he's 10. Inoichi takes shisui as his Padawan as soon as possible (inoichi is like "my son 🥹" but not pushing too hard whilst shisui is like "I need to make him proud and that includes not being a burden🥹") and somehow (but also reaaaaaaally NOT surprising) they are the most emotionally intelligent master padawan duo DESPITE the huge hiccup in communication 😂

Inoichi: I will parent him SO WELL that he will be strong enough to live a long and fulfilling life, even when I am gone... Damn I love this kid :') (small but nagging concern for his flagrant attachment but knows it's healthy and human so weighs more on his shrink BG than ancient Jedi teaching... this is not popular but YOU try fighting with a doctor)

Shisui: I have to talk about my feelings, even though I'll be careful to avoid coming on too strong .. I WILL NOT get a bad grade in Padawan *proceeds to be the most loving and precious child possible, selfless and clever and loyal to such a degree that he's able to help others as well*

😂🤦

Inoichi is about, hm, 35? And Shisui is 20 (so Inoichi found Shisui, 6, when he was 21) which means... Inoichi is crechmates with Obi-wan and Quinlan :))))) and Shisui knows Anakin and Aayla

(*Fix It Fic clown music intensifying*)

I think the best way to transform canon from that point on is the simple acknowledgement that Shisui would be a Shadow. With the Uchiha's use of force manipulation plus Inoichi's own teaching in telepathy and empathetic communication AND Shisui's own incredible speed... Shisui would be ideal for scouting. Which means he would be the one getting intelligence that informs the GARs missions. And he can pick up on the bullshit faulty info that's doctored to kill the clones/Jedi and extend the war and be like... hold the phone lads this is a conspiracy :3

I just want a scene where the kids are like 14/15/16 (respectively) and coming back from rebellious teen speeder racing and Anakin is like "obi wan is gonna ground me again for being out past bedtime 😒" and shisui is like "sucks to be you bro inoichi actively bets on me winning✨" and Aayla is like "you also have a bedtime 🙄" to which Shisui is like "...😬 ok point" and really Aayla is the only one unphased because Quinlan is like OMG MY LIL PADAWAN WAS OUT LIVING WILD 🥹 IM SO PROUD

Also I reaaaaaaaaaaally want Shisui to do the force equivalent of a Shunshin in a battlefield (maybe he's hunting Ventress?) And just... BAMF wows everyone and it's so beautiful and then he's like ✨☺️✨ the SUN with his CURLS and his DIMPLES and 🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌 and suddenly Anakin (who's been getting more sullen) starts to brighten up again, like the clouds receding, and Obi-wan is also relaxing a little because these days seeing Shisui means it won't be long until- and there, that's when Inoichi arrives (at a much more reasonable pace) with their Intell Corps and the 501st and 212th are introduced to the wonder of Jedi therapy (also those two would 100% be the ones who find the chips)

ANYWAY

I hope you enjoy MY infodump lmaoooo I got carried away but oh well~

That's quite alright, I like when people use my askbox and it was a surprise but a positive one, I hadn't expected a SW ask and especially not one about Qui-gon haha... I'm not phased by 'unpopular' opinions, I'm sure I've more than a few that my followers don't care for! 😉 for what it's worth, I hope you're reassured if you decide to send me any more asks :)

Anyway, I've rambled a lot here but thanks for reaching out again, it was super interesting~ have a nice day/night, Anon ✨

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Do you have any tips for structuring a writing schedule? I want to start making multi chapter series, but I have the ol 'i should be working' problem everytime I try and take a break. A part of me is afraid that I'll lose interest in a project if I take a break from it, and the other is close to burnout lmao. Do you have any sort of writing structure to help you from burnout? You have so many fics that you update so often, it amazes me

You think I'm much more organized than I actually am, anon. I don't really have a writing schedule, or any clear strategies of how to do what I do, I just write when I have a spare moment and am in the mood.

That said, I guess there are a couple of things that help me stay on it and not burn out.

Write for Yourself

Remember that it's about you having fun, not about other people. It's great if other people enjoy things, but what matters is if it's fun for you.

If you remember it being fun, and not a chore, then you'll remember it's worth doing and be able to leave and come back. If it feels like a chore, then maybe you do need a break for a while.

You're not obligated to anyone, even your reviewers, and you are not here to mindlessly generate free content for them.

They can ask for updates, you deliver those when you want.

If It's Hard to Write the Chapter, the Chapter Might Be Wrong

If you're sitting down, trying to get this chapter to work and just filled with a feeling of "Ugh" then probably something has gone wrong. You don't actually need this chapter, the story itself didn't actually have a point and wasn't interesting, you're approaching the chapter from the wrong angle.

In my experience, whenever I feel this, there's usually an underlying reason that's not just my own motivation. In these cases, it's good to take a step back and evaluate if this is really the best approach to take.

Rather than bashing my head into a wall which can lead to an extreme amount of burnout.

Follow the Muse

I tend to write many fics at the same time. It's not that I don't like Fic A, but hyperfocusing on it tends to lead to a feeling of "ugh", especially as I tend to write long stories that take a lot of development.

It's easier for me to write shorter things I know will wrap up at the same time as the long thing, or else write multiple longer things at once and try to pace it so that at least one is hitting an interesting chapter while others are in build-up.

That said, don't do too many that you lose track, but this is something you can figure out through trial and error.

I can handle about... probably five major fics at a time with shorter things piled on top. Beyond that and I have to start rereading every time I update.

Hope this all helps.

[ahimoth-storm]

some relatable quotes (and why)

so i wanted to make a post about some quotes from anime/movies/cartoons that relate to me in a way. there is a lot, to be honest, so for now i'll only put a few. who knows, i might do a part 2 and songs next. if you have any quotes you relate to, feel free to comment them!

now that i look over this....i realized it looks more like a vent post due to me adding why the quote is relatable in parenthesis... shit-

I don't understand why everybody has to be so judgmental. ...."Hey, Cody's just a bum." "Cody's this," "Cody's that," "Cody's this." Cody's me, bro. Let me be me. When is that going to start? ~Cody Maverick, Surf's up (constantly being compared to others, told i should be like this or more like that)

I, am on, *so* much migraine medication you have no idea... The stress is killing me. I dunno how much longer I can last, I have to tell you that right now! ~Mikey Abromowitz, Surf's up (i have chronic migraines; stress makes it worse)

No joy, man. No joy...Fail. ~Big Z, Surf's up (me after telling myself "i'ma have a good day" and it ends up being shit)

Mikey, why don't you head on over to the snack bar and get yourself a big bowl of shut up? ~Reggie Belafonte, Surf's up (me when i am not in a good mood and people make it worse. me when someone pisses me off then tries to make me laugh)

heh heh, this place sucks, bro. ~Cody Maverick, Surf's up (me at school, me at home, me at the store, me in any sort of inconvenient/annoying place)

i promote happiness! can you see the happiness emanating from me!? what's wrong with you? ~Reggie Belafonte, Surf's up (me looking in the mirror when i am one minor inconvenience away from absolutely losing my shit)

*sigh.* why is it that whenever i'm having fun, it's wrong? ~Squidward, Spongebob (me. just me)

what are those neanderthals doing?.... ~Squidward, Spongebob (me with my nosy neighbors, me at the store and people are acting absolutely RIDICULOUS)

too bad that didn't kill me. ~Squidward, Spongebob (me, with just anything)

i hate all of you. ~Squidward, Spongebob (me after i graduated in 2023)

well, it wouldn't be the first time you ruined everything. ~Squidward, Spongebob (me when my family just can't get along, younger me with my little brother 'cause my father always favored him)

wake me up when i care. ~Squidward, Spongebob (me when my little brother constantly woke me up for the damn nintendo wii (i wanted to do what Squidward did when he bashed his head into the register, but to a table or wall instead))

why am i always the one handing out apologies? ~Shippo, Inuyasha (was blamed for everything; grew a habit of apologizing for everything)

...nothing i could've gained was worth losing her. nothing at all. ~Sesshomaru, Inuyasha (i lost my grandma in january of 2021)

i want you to be happy. i want you to laugh a lot. i don't know what i'll be able to do for you, but i'll always be by your side. ~Kagome, Inuyasha (me to my best friend who i've known and been friends with since 2018)

people like you… are the reason why people like me need medication. ~Inuyasha, Inuyasha (many people in the world, and many types of people, are driving me up a fucking wall)

i just don't like giving up, there's a difference! ~Inuyasha, Inuyasha (i refuse to give up on something/someone that means so much to me, unless i absolutely have a good reason (even then, a part of me still wants to refuse giving up))

i can't be at peace until i find out the truth. Sailor Mercury, Sailor Moon (there are a lot of things happening in my family, as it was split in half when i was very young. one side says this, the other side says that. i'm in constant turmoil trying to figure out who is and who isn't lying. it feels like the equivalent of being ripped apart)

18 quotes, and now my fingers are cramped T^T they'll only cramp more when i add the tags.