#like if he was able to properly think it through and he really believed that the only two options were

[sapphicdalliances]

So I agree with this up to a point – I've seen a lot of people in the tags say "the miscommunication was on both sides", and I do feel that in the specific case of the golden core transfer and the ways in which that affected their relationship, that was definitely not a mutual miscommunication, but very simply a lie, a deliberate deception on WWX's part.

It's completely true that JC is very honest and forthcoming when it comes to information, his thoughts, his circumstances, etc, and all of that is usually in hopes of helping someone close to him (be that his siblings or the rest of Yunmeng Jiang). He's also able to navigate the "Yanli's feelings toward Zixuan" minefield with reasonable efficacy, taking the time to hear Yanli's thoughts and such. It's a very stark contrast to WWX who has buried every negative feeling he's ever had 6 feet in the ground, deflects most questions he doesn't want to answer and just fully ignores the rest, bulldozes through a bunch of his loved ones' opinions and boundaries in his attempts to protect them, and even deceives himself on a number of LWJ-related issues.

But I think there is still something JC isn't very successful at communicating to WWX, and that's his affection. This is, predictably, the same with Mme Yu as others in the comments have brought up, though her situation is much more exaggerated: she communicates her thoughts and opinions quite clearly, but declines to do the same with her sentiments. She actually loved her children and her husband, but refused to express this until her dying breath – I think many can probably relate who has a parent like this: of course she loves her children, so why should she waste breath on something everyone knows when she could be loudly explaining how they can better themselves in society for the 2,408th time. (Chinese culture itself is quite actions-forward; some will say that providing for her children and educating them is in itself a clear sign of love! But like girl come on.)

Similarly, JC doesn't like to speak his love aloud, but shows it in his actions. (This is why in the books, where his actions can be easily missed in the narration, it's easy to interpret him as being cold and loveless.) Instead of "I love you Jin Ling", it's "tell me who made you cry!" and "don't get hurt or I'll break your legs!" and getting hostaged to protect him. Instead of "WWX you're my brother and I love you (but you are a great big bag of dicks)" it's running for a week straight through enemy territory, throwing himself between his brother and Zidian, throwing himself to the Wens to spare WWX, asking WWX to help name the baby, keeping Chenqing in perfect playing condition in a pocket next to his heart for 13 years. He doesn't hide his affection or go full "it's not because I care about you or anything, sh-shagua!" mode, but verbally, he always approaches WWX business-end first. Even at the Guanyin temple, he wasn't quite able to properly express that he missed WWX and wanted him to come home as his brother; he had to couch it in the language of fealty.

Would showing his affections more clearly have changed anything? Hard to say. WWX was in just about the worst mental state you can imagine a guy being in for several years consecutively, and there were many things he could not or would not hear. He had spoken JC's particular love language fluently for years, but I would hazard a guess that the unavoidable bitterness and resentment from that missing core may have turned his eyes away from the gestures that came in during the Burial Mounds era. So maybe it wouldn't have really made any difference.

But in my opinion, even by the time of the siege, JC still loved him. And I think WWX probably died the first time not believing that at all.

Lotta takes that are like "Jiang Cheng didn't change his behaviour at all in 13 years, that proves that he doesn't want to grow as a person" and it's like, sorry but why would he change his behaviour when the information that would recontextualise Wei Wuxian's actions and thus lead him to rethink his own reactions was deliberately kept hidden from him? From his perspective, his brother broke all his promises for no goddamn reason, picked a different family over him, lost control of the evil energy he swore he could control, and in doing so caused such a catastrophe that both of Jin Ling's parents were killed. We know that there's more to that story, but he doesn't, and it would be impossible for him to find out on his own because again, everyone involved was lying to him and hiding the relevant information on purpose.

He's told about the golden core transfer like three hours before the book ends, and frankly processes it faster than most people could reasonably be expected to after 13 years of grief and loneliness! "He had chances to improve his behaviour and didn't" HE LITERALLY DIDN'T HAVE ANY CHANCES BECAUSE WWX LIED TO HIM!! His behaviour was completely justified from his perspective and when his perspective is changed, and he realises that what he did was wrong, he's like, SUPER upset about it!

[xfgpng]

control …

— [ nsfw ] kissing, dry humping, first kiss + they’re both virgins

— wc :: 1.2k

caleb likes to think he’s in control of everything that happens around him. he’s always been pretty good at controlling his emotions and schooling his expressions and he tries not to overreact.


that’s the problem with her, she throws him off balance in the best and worst ways and it leaves him feeling so unsettled.

the thing about college, it’s supposed to be the best years of your life and he doesn’t know if he agrees or disagrees with that. if he really thinks about it, it’s bullshit but he knows why he feels that way.

he keeps himself composed most days, he has no reason to act out of character but this is something new to him.

caleb wasn’t naive enough to think this would never happen, he just always thought he’d be able to handle it well but he cannot. his hands feel clammy and his hot around his neck. is this even normal? he doesn’t fucking know.

he wants to lie and say he’s completely normal about her having other guy friends but he’s definitely not. his skin crawls whenever they touch her shoulder, grab at her wrists even if it’s completely platonic and innocent.


he especially hates when they lean in to close to talk to her when they’re at a party and the music is too loud. those are the nights caleb avoids alcohol like it personally offended him.

he cannot trust himself to be sober in these situations, he doesn’t want to imagine what he’d do with his evol even if the thought sends a thrill through him. he knows he has a problem, he’s just not going to deal with it.

not in a healthy way at least.

“caleb?”

he snaps out his thoughts, smiling down at where she’s laying on the floor in his dorm room. she’s supposed to be studying but she’s distracted and he shouldn’t enable her but he always does. she’s just too pretty, she has a face you cannot say no to and you’d be insane to disagree.


he’d like someone to disagree, that would be a fun day for him and a very unfortunate one for them.

“i’m listening” he lies. if he had been, he would’ve heard what she asked him and understand why she’s being all shy right now.

“wait.. what?” he sits up, looking at her properly. he definitely has a problem if he’s thinking about her so much and she’s right next to him.

“.. it’s stupid” she frowns

“it’s not” he reassures. he means it sincerely because he is willing to do whatever she wants. he hopes she doesn’t know that.

“i just .. i haven’t had my first kiss yet and i know some people think it’s a big deal and maybe it is but how will i know?” she looks up at him and she looks so upset by this so he tries not to panic.


was she seeing someone? did she like someone and that’s why she was thinking about kissing?

caleb could tell her it’s too early to worry about that and maybe she could just focus on college but that would be selfish of him. so selfish.

“i could teach you” he says and it’s out before his brain can even process any of that shit but it’s too late now because her eyes widen and she sits up so fast.

“what?” she asks because even he can’t believe what he just said.

“i just mean if you’re that curious” he smiles, playing it cool.

“you’d do that for me?” she stands now, moving to sit on his bed right in front of him and he will kill his roommate if the fucker comes back now.

“you know i would” he shrugs like it’s nothing even though his heart his beating so fast.

and that’s the thing about control, he always believed he was in control of everything in his life but the moment their lips touch, he feels his entire world shift and he doesn’t know if he’s breathing but she trusts him.

he has his hands on the side of her face before he can stop himself and she gasps softly into the kiss that he can’t help but lightly bite her bottom lip. she likes that, or so it seems because she doesn’t push him away.

her lips taste like the peach flavoured lipgloss she likes to wear and her skin is soft beneath his fingertips.

“is this okay?” he asks, running his thumb across her lower lip. she’s so beautiful, it hurts.

“yes…” she nods, “… can we do more?”

“more?” he tries not to show how excited that makes him.

“with tongue” she whispers

he doesn’t need to be told twice and her moan makes it hard to focus on anything other than her lips against his and how hard he suddenly is.

he slips his tongue into her mouth and she learns pretty quickly, he hasn’t even kissed anyone either but he’s seen enough videos and he’s always been a pretty fast learner himself and he would be damned if she had this experience with anyone that wasn’t him.

she moves closer, her arms around his neck and he can’t pull her onto his lap. if he’s being honest, he’s been hard since she said yes to the kiss but he would never want to overwhelm her. her first kiss is special because it’s them, he wouldn’t rush this.


that is something he can control.

“does that feel good?” he asks because her comfort is the most important thing to him.

“yes” she sounds less shy now, more like herself and she’s smiling so sweetly he can’t help but lean back in and this time she takes the lead and he likes how she lightly pulls at his hair. he didn’t know he’d be into that but he’s learning a lot about himself since being in college.

she climbs onto his lap on her own and if she feels how hard he is, she doesn’t comment on it which he appreciates. she’s always been considerate and just so perfect he thinks he might combust.

“put your hands .. on my waist” she tells him and he nods, as if he’s in some sort of trance now.

he’s not embarrassed about the grinding or the fact that he cums in his pants 10 minutes later. he’s still a fucking virgin and she doesn’t seem to care because she moans loud enough for him that he knows everyone down the hall heard her and only a small part of him hates that, he knows when he’s alone he’s going to be pissed that they heard how pretty she sounds but right now he wants to keep kissing her.

[madwomansapologist]

ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ a hound left without a leash

★彡 synopsis: your love is constant, ever-present and ever-growing. toji finds it endearing. how you're not afraid of being soft around him. but he can’t be like that. his love isn't gentle and quiet like yours: it's remorseless, made of sharp fangs soaked in blood—five times toji felt loved by you, five times he loved you back.

content warnings: established relationship, fluff & angst & smut, domesticity, movie night, toji is soooo in love it's embarrassing, touch starved meet clingy, he's bad at feelings don't give him space, devotion, beach date, hurt/comfort, his love language is acts of service it's not his fault he only knows how to kill, violence (not towards reader), gaslight if you squint, voyeurism, sex toy, manhandling, lots of spit and bites and scratches, creampie, cockwarming.

bella's note: inspired by the song valentine by laufey. y'all say thank you, @gothsuguru for making like three posts about toji that reminded me of my love for this deadbeat killer.

word count: [4.3K]

(It took Toji by surprise the first time he noticed it.)

Toji tried to focus on the action movie—clearly made with no aspiration beyond gathering as much money as possible. He really did. Before learning the bland protagonist’s name, heavy eyelids and comfy blankets came together with a sickening plan to betray his determination.

There was no movie to pretend to watch by the time Toji woke up. The television was turned off, the living room silent if not by his untamed heartbeat. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, blurs turning into discernible shapes, Toji breathed no more.

Only after seeing it on the television that Toji was able to feel it on his body. Fingertips running through his still-damp hair, thumb pressing softly against his temple. A constant movement, warm and calm. It made him think about waves in an empty shore.

A contained laughter guided his eyes away from the screen. Leaning on your shoulder, Toji saw you. Eyes narrowing at your phone, undoubtedly fighting to stay open, the tip of your tongue between your parted lips. Caressing his hair, you nibbled on your tongue.

For you, it was an old habit you couldn’t get rid of. For Toji, it was a telltale of your concentration.

Once he learned there was a way to read you, Toji aimed to collect all your telltales. He has all those little signals memorized to translate your behaviors into something he can fully understand. Into something he can transforming into actions.

Distant gaze means hesitation, which in turn means say something, anything, goddamnit. Trembling lips and fervent rage, scrunched nose and jealousy, discreet smiles and nauseating happiness. Toji could fill libraries with everything there is to know about you.

Staring at the soft muscle, Toji knew what your concentration required from him: silence, just for a while. Toji gave you what you needed, hoping somehow you knew what he meant by it—I love you, I love you, I love you.

Wondering about what you needed him to do for you Toji didn’t even notice your nails scratching behind his ears, where you knew he’s sensitive enough to melt into your palm. If he had, maybe Toji would’ve fallen asleep on your shoulder again and rest properly for once.

Toji can’t remember the name of the movie that lulled him to sleep. If he was at your home, if it was late at night, if it was during an unexpected blizzard. Toji can only remember that your eyes weren’t on him, and your touch was gentle.

Scrolling endlessly as you kept him awake, Toji thought once more about how soft your skin is when compared to his. It lacked scars. You lack roughness, precision, disgust. All those things Toji once believed being an adult meant: you don’t have any of them.

(The first time he noticed your love was gentle and quiet, Toji didn’t knew how to react.)

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

(Obviously, Toji never lets you win.)

“Just throw me, Toji”, you practically meowed his name. When he completely ignored your presence, you pinched his cheek. Toji took a deep breath. “Please. Pretty please.”

Your cold hands cupped his cheeks, trying to get Toji to look at you. Pouting, plush bottom lip on display, you stared at him through your lashes. You knew it would take one look at you for him to fold and give in.

He slipped away from your hold, so fast you only noticed he was gone when Toji was already laying down on your beach sarong. That made you giggle. He does that all the time. Moves faster than your eyes can comprehend.

It’s so alluring you couldn’t even force yourself to get mad over Toji mistaking your new sarong for a sheet.

“Brat, I’ve told ya”, he tilted his head back. Toji rest his arm over his head, in a not-so-subtle way of ensuring he wouldn’t accidentally sneak a glance at you. Toji could feel on his bones that you were pouting. “I’m not doing that.”

Maybe because you both went on a whim to a beach on a random tuesday, maybe because this one isn’t as popular as you feared, it was truly a peaceful day. No kids running around, no loud music blasting through someone else’s phone, no drunks yelling just because.

It’s so close from being a perfect day, now all you need is to hear Toji saying yes, darling, anything for you. Not that you ever heard that before. At least, not worded like that.

With a melodramatic sigh, you walked to where your stuff was. Searching among all the bags tossed around, you found just what would change his mind. As your malignant plan developed inside of your mind, a grin spread across your face.

Sitting on his lap, your soaked thighs clamped around Toji’s thick waist. Sighing once more, you rolled your hips with the poor excuse of searching for a more comfortable position. Warm fingers pressed down on his hips; nails close enough to ghost over his happy trail.

“Behave”, Toji groaned, free hand closing around your hip. He easily held you in place. You smelled like salt and malice. “I won’t change my mind.”

You bent over Toji, soaked bikini pressing down against his toned chest. Scratching his forearm, you brushed your nose against his cheek. “Can I try to convince you?”, you whispered sultry against his ear.

Softening his hold on you, Toji smirked. “You’re a fucking menace.”

Splash.

Pouring cold water on his face, you took advantage of his surprised state to run away while you’re still able to. Laughing more than you could breathe, you tilted your head back to look at Toji. “Now tell me something I don’t know.”

Just like you expected, Toji looked at you.

Just like you always forget, Toji was fast. Really, really fast.

Colliding with his chest, you frowned as your mind processed that Toji was right in front of you. As a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, you knew there was nothing you could do to escape his grip. You tried to anyway.

“That’s cheating”, you yelled. It made him laugh like hell, chest vibrating against your stomach. Lifted up far above the ground, you moved your feet uselessly. “It’s so unfair, you need to let me win sometimes too!”

A slap against your ass shut you up. “Annoying brat”, Toji threw you over his shoulders. You tried to squirm away, but decided to settle for just complaining once he bit your thigh. “As if. You can earn your victory or stop acting like a bored cat for once.”

Giggling, you pressed your elbows down on his shoulder. “Toji. My love”, your voice imbued in honey and sugar made him face you. Smiling angelically, you pointed at the cliff providing the shade you two enjoyed all day. “Throw me in the water. From up there, please.”

Another sigh. I’m almost breaking him, you thought. “Why? Just… why?”

“Because I want to jump so badly but I’m a coward”, you pouted. His eyes fell towards your bottom lip. “So just throw me. Pleeeeeeeaase. Pretty please.”

“If you drown, I’m not saving your ass.”

“Deal”, you kissed his jaw.

Another slap. “Spoiled, annoying brat.”

(Except, obviously, Toji always lets you win.)

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

(If you had asked, Toji would’ve confessed in a heartbeat.)

Toji took of his shoes and frowned at your heels fallen out of place. Murmuring to himself about how when he does it with his sneakers it’s a crime deserving of death sentence, Toji closed the buckles of your heels and put them inside the shoe rack.

He knew something was off once the silence lingered. Never one to doubt himself, Toji didn’t hesitate. He analyzed the floor, searched for different scents, checked the front door’s handler. Passing through every room with a hand near his hidden gun, Toji didn’t breathe until seeing you on your bed.

Although, what Toji saw didn’t make him any more relieved.

It’s late at night and you’re still wearing your responsible-adult clothes—that’s how you call those you buy solely so your coworkers won’t judge you. Earrings intertwined with your sweaty hair, necklace pressed against your collarbone, belt too tight to be comfortable.

Moonlight showed him your puffy eyelids smeared with mascara. Half-open as you stared at the ceiling, you didn’t seem to acknowledge Toji’s presence. You didn’t seem to acknowledge anything at all.

“Hi, love.” Toji kneeled down, whispering in order to not startle you. He pressed his chin on your pillow, hands moving your hair away from your face. “Are you here with me?”

Another tear rolled down your face once you blinked. Toji pressed his thumb against your skin, stopping it from falling into your ear. You tried to turn your face away from him, but hesitated once the warmth of his hands made to your heavy mind.

“Need to sleep”, you murmured, voice so thin Toji felt his throat shut.

Soaked in sweat, Toji ran his fingers through your hair without bothering you. He scratched your head, draw figures on your scalp, avoided any knots. Your name, his own, any other word he could think of: his fingertips wrote on your head. For what felt like hours, that’s all he did.

You tilted your head, staring at him. Toji can’t remember ever seeing your eyes like that. Dim. He wondered where you lost your light, and made a quiet promise to return it to you. “Sorry.”

“Don’t.” Toji simply continued to caress your head. “Tell me what to do.”

For the first time in hours, you thought about what you needed. With a single phrase, Toji reminded you that you had a body. “Can you get me my towel?”

Toji would’ve done anything, everything, you asked him to.

With your towel on the mattress, Toji assisted you to sit down. One hand on the small of your back, another cupping your cheek. You melted into his touch, but closed your eyes once he kneeled in front of you. Running away from his careful gaze, you grabbed your towel and forced yourself to walk into the bathroom.

It didn’t surprise you that Toji followed you. Or that he took the towel from your hands, unclasped your jewelry, slid your clothes off of you. Neither as the water hitting your body was on the temperature you prefer, as he hugged you tightly under the shower, as he didn’t make questions you couldn’t quite answer.

Not even your worst day would make you forget how soft your Toji is.

Toji relies on your body to tell him what you need, but once or twice you will say it yourself. Can you get me my towel? You want to be clean again. And knowing what you want, Toji knows what to do.

In no rush, he put your shampoo on his hand and massaged your head. Once your back found a support on his chest, he rinsed your hair while protecting your eyes. After moisturizing, he brushed your hair until he could feel no more knots. Washing the remains of conditioner away from his hands, he moved to the rest of your body.

It didn’t feel weird, and that did surprise you. To feel his hands on your naked body without feeling desire or desired. It wasn’t uncomfortable. Far from it. As Toji washed you, you just felt less lonely.

“Toji?”

He kissed your scalp, massaging your shoulders. He drawn little hearts on your skin. “I am here”, Toji hummed.

“It’s nothing”, you closed your eyes. That was a lie. You meant to say thank you, and I’m sorry but knew he would get mad if you did so. “Just wanted to hear you.”

“I am right here.”

(He would’ve confessed to mimic you, because Toji’s love is anything but gentle and quiet.)

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

(You wouldn’t ask him to. You would never.)

Ignoring the sorcerer’s terrified eyes, his movements were harsh and cold. It felt just right. To have a combat knife between his fingers again. How natural. As if his hands came from a mold, one made to wield blades and nothing more. That would make sense. For his body to be assembled instead of born.

Gun left aside; chair dragged across the concrete floor. Toji sat in front of the muzzled sorcerer, spreading his legs as he sharpened the blade. Moonlight made it clear. Cold sweat, stunned eyes, shaken limbs. He was a scared, coward animal.

“Don’t cry now”, Toji cocked an eyebrow. Spreading his legs, he admired the thin edge. Perfect. Dragging out the silence for one more instant, Toji stared at the walking corpse. “Not when you begged for this.”

A clan left behind; hellish decades erased within an insurgent decision. Toji doesn’t need to be a Zenin to have enemies. Blood-stained hands collect them just as easily. But after slaughtering enemies enough times, those smart enough to be considered dangerous by others knew better than facing him.

But rumors travel fast and, in his absence, fools gained confidence.

This late on his life, Toji couldn’t tell if it was instinct or muscle memory. He simply knew the sorcerer was about to do something stupid. The knife’s handle hit the man in the temple. As he fought to continue conscious, Toji observed his skin turning purple.

He felt proud. This night left no wound or bruise on his skin. There will be no perplexed gaze, uncertain touch, questions that can’t be answered honestly. Once he comes back to his home, you will have no reason to worry.

“You hurt her.” Toji wondered how long it would take. To get back to you. To return your caring gaze, feel your caring touch, hear your caring questions. “Now I’ll hurt you.”

It begged. It tried to negotiate, numbers rising as Toji continued in silence. If rumors travel fast, so does the truth. Toji turned soft, a rumor that thing discovered to be a lie the moment it decided to bother you. Toji can be bought, a fact that never once included you.

“What do you want?!” And the tears came back. They usually do, with loud and unstoppable sobs. Don’t matter who they are, in the end they beg just the same. “I can give it to you. Tell me your price.”

“Your right hand”, Toji tilted his head, sliding the edge of the knife against the armchair. “You touched her with your right hand.”

Toji was merely taunting the sorcerer. He would never use a combat knife to torture someone. That doesn’t sound like him at all. Toji will saw both hands with a dull knife.

(But you didn’t need to ask him to. Toji would always.)

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

(Toji didn’t need to say it.)

It took him long enough to unlock the door to your apartment. The voice of a senator on a news channel welcomed Toji. Heels inside the shoe rack, handbag and headphone forgotten on the couch. Hearing you hum in the shower, Toji turned the TV off.

He could picture it so clearly. You stretching your neck and walking barefoot into the living room, rubbing your eyes just to immediately remember about the mascara. Calling for him. Hearing nothing in response. Choosing something loud on the TV and deciding to take a long shower because it’s friday, I deserve this.

Toji sighed, relief washing over him in waves. You’re back to being you.

He put the takeout on the table and organized the groceries on the kitchen cabinet—his excuses for staying out longer than usual. Toji was careful with them. Food from your favorite restaurant, cleaning products you mentioned before. Lies build on solid truths.

He doesn’t have an excuse for the scent of antiseptic soap, but once your products made to his nostrils Toji realized he wouldn’t need one. Scents way too sweet, enough to confuse slightly his keen senses. There is no way you’re able to smell anything but yourself.

As the bathroom door opened, Toji grabbed a towel on the laundry and locked himself inside it before you could get a hold of him. He doesn’t think you would notice, and if you did you wouldn’t waste your breath on it, but Toji won’t risk it.

Washing himself once more, Toji tried not to wonder about what would make you despise him more: what he did, or that he doesn’t feel any remorse. Would it make it better for you if Toji cried in the shower? If he stared at his clean hands and saw blood on them? Toji could pretend for you. He really would.

You’re safe and sound, mere steps away from him. Toji showers hearing your loud music. Toji can picture that too. You waiting for him as your sleepy eyes challenge your determination—you always fall asleep before he gets to you. You being you. No shaky breathes, no unstoppable tears. He could never feel remorse.

Toji went after you with a towel around his hips. Following the music most likely coming from your phone, he gently opened the bedroom door to not wake you up. Leaning on the door frame, Toji chuckled.

With your eyes closed, you were far from sleeping. Wrinkled sheets falling out of bed, toes curling against the mattress. Damp towel forgotten on the floor. A hand squeezing his pillow, the other hidden between your thighs. Forearms moving in the rhythm you created to yourself; small gasps concealed by a song.

Spit gathered in the corner of your mouth, mesmerizing Toji. How he wished to sink his teeth into your glossy lips. A broken moan and your back arched, his eyebrows furrowing in synchrony with yours. You did it as the waves of pleasure became too much, and Toji as he finally saw what you had between your legs.

From the blunt and bulbous head to its thick length, it was truly no wonder why you were so quiet. All way out, then all way in. Your concentration was on fucking yourself with the dark purple dildo, the rest simply too much for you little brain.

He never saw that one before.

Wrist burning from your incessant movements, your free hand abandoned his pillow to press down on your clit. A simple and precise touch that made you whimper. Feeling shivers down his spine, Toji smirked.

Your eyes fluttered open.

A beat later, they meet his and widened. All way out. Mouth hanging open, you chuckled. It sounded like you were about to lose your sanity. Then all way in. “There you are.”

Toji crossed his arms, leaving his place at the door to a new one at the end of the bed. “Putting on a show for me?”

“Not on purpose”, you laughed it off. It felt so dirty. For you to talk normally while doing something so lewd. As if you weren’t fully exposed—as if he wasn’t too. “I could say the same about you.”

Skin reddish because of the hot water, black hair dripping wet. You followed every drop, burning him with your ravenous gaze. Veins evident on his thick neck. Long fingers pressing down on his forearms, a reminder of how bad you miss his touch. Huge thighs, even when relaxed.

He dropped the towel. “Not on purpose”, Toji lied.

A knee sunk on the bed, his hands caressing your heels. Toji forced your legs up, tilting his head to kiss the side of your foot. He put one on each shoulder, another knee sinking down on the bed. Grabbing at the fat of your thighs, Toji pulled you closer.

Toji has a way of making you feel weightless.

He bit his tongue, a hand massaging your thigh. Always the cocky asshole, Toji rubbed your overwhelmed clit with his thumb. Staring into his hungry eyes, you grinned.

Holding the firm base of the dildo, Toji pulled it out of you. The sounds your cunt let out, soaked and soft, made him squeeze your thighs. With a pop, there it was, covered in lubricant and your excitement. Your core clamped around nothing.

Toji spat on you, fingers rough against your sore lips as his other hand pumped his cock. You swallowed watching Toji compare with your dildo. You both could see the truth. How your toy was much bigger and ticker.

Salivating, Toji was so proud of you.

Bending over you, forcing your thighs against your chest, Toji admired your sweaty face. He kissed your temple, pressing the dildo’s tip against your lips. “Your collection only grows”, Toji groaned. “That’s a new one.”

“Not new”, you lapped at the protruding head. “Is for when I miss you.”

Toji sank his teeth into your shoulder, hiding his burning cheeks against your skin. Fingers ran through his hair; nails scratched his forearm. “You saw me this morning.”

His tongue was everywhere, moving too fast for you to keep up. Kissing your shoulder, licking your neck, biting your collarbone. Toji is always too much. How perfect of him. “Are you that needy you can’t go hours without me?”

“Miss you all the time”, you struggled to breath. Pulling him by the hair, you made Toji face you. Lost on his dark eyes, time seemed to stop. “Say you miss me too.”

“Miss you all the time”, Toji obeyed. It wouldn’t matter if he didn’t. Not when you can see his flushed cheeks. As a reward, you kissed the scar on his mouth—you would’ve kissed it anyway. “Think about you all the time.”

You bit his earlobe, nose sliding against his neck as you searched for that sweet spot able to make Toji stutter. Once you did, mouth sucking it without mercy, Toji gave your hips a strong squeeze. His calloused hands would mark you tonight.

Toji humped on your thigh. You could feel precum leaking against your skin. He settled for leaning his forehead against yours. “You smell way too sweet.”

“I can get new lotions”, you offered. “Something you like better.”

“Don’t.” Toji cupped your face, ignoring your clit to rub the length of his cock against your slit. Pushing your head against the pillow, he kissed your forehead. “I like you sweet.”

Toji didn’t meant to slip inside you. He wanted to taunt you some more. To fuck you with your dildo and make you scream right into his open lips. Toji wanted you drooling. And once you begged him enough, showing what a polite woman you are, Toji would make you cry with his tongue deep into your walls.

But you were so wet.

“T-Toji!” You gasped, eyes wide as you felt all of him. Pulling his hair, you bit his bottom lip. “Can feel you so deep…”

“I know”, Toji grabbed the headboard, thighs shaking. So fucking welcoming. Thumbs stroking your hips, his mind was a mess because of you. “I know.”

Your eyes meet his. A part of Toji wanted to look away. To hide how fragile you make him. How your gaze burns him deeply. The other wanted to never shy away from you. To never know what it feels like to not be watched by you.

No one ever sees him, the one who left it all behind. No one but you.

His body collapsed against yours. His hands pulled your hair, making you tilt your head so he could continue to torture your neck. Thighs forcing yours open, chest pressing down against yours. You could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat. This gigantic man crushing you against the mattress, so heavy it was difficult to breath.

Drunk on his overwhelming intensity, you admired Toji. His hips rolling up, so slow you could feel the trace of every vein on his cock. His length inside you, never giving you a break. His hair dripping on you, a blend of water and sweat.

“Remind me… to thank my new friend”, Toji tilted his head, pointing at the dildo besides your pillow. His raspy voice was more addictive than cocaine. “Got you ready to take me all in.”

Fighting his grasp on your hair, you hugged his shoulders and forced your head up. Sharing an open mouth kiss, your drool fell on your chest. It felt so cold. Or perhaps your skin was too feverish. Toji devoured your every moan, hands tightening around your hips.

“Missed you so much”, you whimpered. His forehead leaned on yours, eyes closing as Toji tried to not lose himself. You continued to admire him. “Missed being yours.”

“You’re always mine. All the time”, Toji groaned. His tip hit your most sensitive spot; your eyes closing on their own. Toji rubbed your neglected clit, a hand grabbing the roots of your head. His grip firm yet gentle. “Look at me.”

You obeyed, staring into his dark eyes again. You could swear you saw stars on them. Toji leaned his forehead on yours, your touch enough to make him forget everything but your name.

“There you go”, he whispered. “Focus on me, pretty. Don’t look away.”

Searching for those stars again, the waves of pleasure strong enough to shatter your mind. There was nothing but that spot you and Toji turned into one. Blinded by a fog, crushed by him, you came looking into his eyes.

Toji filled you with all he had. His head fell on your chest, it all too much for him to bear. It all too good for him to fully believe it was real. Gasping, he couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t do anything but breath on you. Sweet you.

Running your trembling fingers through his hair, you collapsed against the pillow. Toji was heavy enough to make you breathless, but you didn’t want him to move. You wanted him as close as he could get.

“Welcome back”, Toji murmured. Mimicking you, Toji ran his fingers through your hair. You felt him smiling against your skin. “I missed you.”

You knew exactly what he meant by that. “I love you too”, you whispered.

all rights reserved to © madwomansapologist

[melanchoire]

Request: Your parents set up your brother and Yujin together and they’ve been dating for a little while. (But, she ended taking a liking to you instead)…So, he decided to invite you all over to his house to have dinner together so he could introduce her to them. During dinner she teases you under the table but before she could take it too far you excuse yourself to the bathroom and she comes up with an excuse to excuse herself too…

cw: age gap (legal), bathroom + mirror sex, fingering, mommy kink.

sooo yujin is your older brother’s soon to be girlfriend. they met through their parents since they knew each other through work stuff but they had a good bond, and well, during a friendly dinner but also to discuss business matters, both brought up the subject that they had children and it just so happened that they were both the same age. after each parent told their respective child about this, yujin and your brother decided to give it a try and they clicked instantly!!

your brother used to talk about you a lot and yujin was fascinated by the things he said. she didn’t know you personally, only through the things your brother told her or what your parents told theirs during their get–togethers

once your brother and yujin started dating but not yet with a totally official title, he proposed that yujin properly meet his parents. she thought it was a little hasty because they didn’t even have an official title yet, but she let it go because it wasn’t something that really bothered her

yujin leaving the office early so she can go to the toy store and buy a nice present for her boyfriend’s little sister 🥰 she is so sweet... yujin doesn’t care about the price and doesn’t even have a problem spending a high amount of money on a doll because she’s doing it from the heart

upon arriving at her boyfriend’s parents’ house, yujin waits at the door, being greeted by her soon to be mother–in–law and her soon to be father–in–law and boyfriend on the couch

your mother tells her that dinner is almost ready, then when she calls your name because you were in your room, and yujin is more than smiling as she holds the gift bag in her hands 🥹 but the smile slowly fades from her face when she sees a girl who is clearly not a kid coming down the stairs wearing a tight tank top and the sluttiest short shorts…

yujin is thankful that she was taller than you because from another person’s perspective she was just looking down on you because of her height, but in reality she wasn’t so sneakily catching a glimpse of your tits through the collar of your pajama top ☺️ she’s so charismatic and charming, smiling at you as you two exchange words for the first time, using a friendly facade when the dirtiest and most depraved thoughts are running through her mind…

and of course she feels frustrated after meeting you! she can’t believe that your parents and hers introduced her to your brother, and not you, someone so much better than him in every field! yujin heard you talk for the first time at dinner, and even though it was the first time you two had met, she felt much more attracted to you at first sight than she did to your brother after so many cheesy dates

so when your brother invited his parents to dinner at his apartment to tell them that they finally made their relationship official, she thought it would be a good idea to be able to connect with you too 😉

yujin being the one to open the door when you finally arrive at the apartment and being greeted with the image of you having your hair styled in the prettiest way and wearing the shortest and tightest dress possible 🫠 she doesn’t even try to hide it, devouring you with her gaze and giving you a grin followed by a low whistle

“looking good, hun. you’re getting prettier every day.” and you think it’s just a compliment because it comes from your brother’s lovely girlfriend, not knowing that every day that passes she hopes it’s one day less so she can fuck you

during dinner yujin talks about her studies after your parents asked her, she comments that she finished her degree recently and finally works in what she always dreamed of ❤️ but noticing that you’re very quiet she turns to look at you and asks if you’re studying or something, and when you tell her that you’re only in your first year of college, the little sanity that was left inside her completely breaks

“awww, you’re still a baby…” and her hand slides up your thigh and gives it a squeeze while smiling sweetly at you

yujin teasing you under the table, sneaking her hand under your dress and touching you through your panties, slowly and torturously massaging your clit through the soaked fabric of your ruined underwear

and you wonder how she is doing this and absolutely no one at the table seems to notice 💀 she’s having a conversation with your parents and brother while shamelessly playing with you…

until you can’t stand it anymore and you practically run away to the bathroom after apologizing to your parents, who, well, sent yujin after you to check if you were okay because they were worried when they saw that you looked agitated and nervous

when you look up from the sink because you were wetting your face to try to calm down, you meet her gaze through the mirror 😳 you don’t remember hearing the door open or anything that would let you know she was there with you

you would have tried to turn to look at her if it weren't for the fact that she is faster than you and rushes to get behind you, pressing her chest against your back while her hands rest on the sink on either side of your sides

“you look so gorgeous tonight… did you get this pretty just for me?”

and she doesn’t let you answer either because suddenly her hands grab your tits from behind and she pushes you against her body while she whispers in your ear

“just be a good girl for me, will you? make mommy proud.”

yujin fingering you in front of the mirror and making you look 🥴 three long fingers pumping intensely in and out of you, your legs weren’t able to keep you standing and you would have fallen to the floor if it weren’t for her body pressing you against the sink, one arm around your waist and her hand working between your legs while the other is holding your face so you can see your own reflection

i also see her as the type who will let go of your face for a moment and gently pat your face when your head is falling or you just can't keep your eyes on the mirror in front of you “c’mon darling. don’t act bad now, you’re doing great. eyes on me, okay?”

but the moment she notices that you’re trying too hard she decides to close her hand over her mouth, saying “go ahead baby, make all the noise you want. mommy will take care of this.” as if it weren’t that she’s fucking you so roughly with her fingers that there’s an obscene splash that fills the silent bathroom and you’re pretty sure it’t audible through the door

and she enjoys it more than anything when you finally cum on her fingers, juices running down your thighs and wetting yujin’s entire hand up to her wrist ☺️ she will even make you watch through the mirror as she sucks on her fingers, cleaning your juices off her digits while humming softly and staring at you

and your parents and brother look happy when the loving girlfriend and her boyfriend’s younger sister start having girls’ nights ❤️ they think that it is a healthy relationship between the girlfriend and her sister–in–law where there is no rivalry or falsehood

but of course, they don’t know that after those expensive outings and luxurious dinners where yujin takes you, she drags you to her apartment to fuck you all night long: eating you out until she is satisfied, fingering you until she feels like you’ve come too much on her fingers and the sheets are soaked beneath your hips, and fucking you silly with her strap on until you cream on it and your body falls limp on her bed, although yujin will surely make you clean her cock with your mouth and shower you with praise because because she knows you’re having a hard time trying to get the whole thick strap into your mouth

[graveyard-galaxy]

The way physical violence was focused on and upped in episode 3 really got me thinking specifically about how Ashley actually responds to it. Because, like…

When we start in the flashback at the start of the episode, we get given a clear picture of Renee’s stance on using it as disciplinary action, and for all that she is shitty and cruel and neglectful and spitefully manipulative in every scene that she’s in, one line that she won’t cross with the kids that she’s barely parenting is hitting them, and she tells Andrew as much.

Albeit aggressively, but what she’s saying here is obviously that she doesn’t believe it will make a difference, and that she won’t allow that to be how Andrew is forced to parent Ashley for her. To be fair, it is quite in line with her general methods of getting what she wants usually through manipulation, but it is, perhaps, a single redeeming factor about her parenting style, and represents a line that shouldn’t be crossed.

(It’s also possible indicative of her own childhood, which is interesting considering what her mother had to say about Douglas’s father in the Renee and Douglas vision, but I digress. This isn’t a Renee analysis or apologist post.)

But another piece of backstory that these flashbacks give us is that, perhaps unsurprisingly, Andrew and Ashley lived with their grandparents for a few years, before their actual parents. Renee was kicked out and had no money, so of course Douglas’s parents were left with Andrew and Ashley for an unknown amount of years. And their parenting style was… different. Seemingly not as neglectful as Renee’s, and I do think we get the sense that even if Douglas’s mother is just as much of a doormat as he is, and refuses to stand up to her husband (and given the wife beating mentions, is possibly not in the position to) she does genuinely care about her grandkids. So at their grandparents there’s… parenting. Maybe not good parenting, but still some parenting.

Interacting with the swing in the yard, Andrew recounts a short memory of how exactly his grandfather tended to respond to him (or presumably Ashley) doing anything wrong.

Woohoo, the kids aren’t abandoned, but they’re still blamed for things that aren’t their fault, and they’re beat for their troubles too!

But seriously, this obviously goes to show that before Andrew and Ashley moved in with their parents, physical violence was on the table against them as punishment. Andrew certainly remembers it, and we can speculate to what degree that informs his response to Renee about hitting Ashley later, but in particular, it’s Ashley I’d like to actually focus on here.

I don’t think it’s too big of a logical leap to assume that if Andrew was beaten by his grandfather, so was Ashley, given said grandfather’s horribly misogynistic views and obvious tendency towards beating his wife. And as unfortunate as it would be, I have to wonder… Did Ashley actually respond to this? In some way did she, or perhaps more likely Andrew, ever figure out how to behave to avoid it?

Looking forward to the present day, physical violence hasn’t been properly levelled against her in a while. Andrew supposedly attempts to choke her out in episode 1, but she notes that he wasn’t squeezing hard enough to actually choke her. And they get up in each other’s faces, and they yell, and she has a vision about him straight up killing her, but to some extent all of this is just not quite that far, or a true ultimatum. Never is Ashley actually faced with physical violence as any kind of punishment despite it being noted all the way back in episode 1 that Andrew has physical strength beyond her, as he is able to keep trying to kick the door down where she notes she doesn’t at all have the energy.

It’s a possibility in spirit. Andrew has the physical advantage and he could so easily use that against her, but it’s all presented as a game to Ashley in the first few episodes – one that she thinks Andrew isn’t actually trying at. She’s not even especially afraid of the prospect until the episode 2 Decay vision shows that he’s fully willing to kill her, and at some point in the near future too. That’s still an ultimatum more than it is a direct punishment, but it presents the idea to her that for all she thought he was playing around, no, Andrew would be willing to go there.

And then, this is followed through on in any Decay playthrough where Andrew is willing to grow a spine. He crosses the line that Renee set up, and that gives the moment a lot of narrative weight.

He slaps her, and her expression tells us a lot here. She wasn’t expecting something like this from him either, because of some combination of to not being a punishment she’s actually faced since childhood, Andrew never having gotten like this with her properly before, and how quick and sudden it is. This isn’t just a death threat or potentially far-off vision of him killing her; he’s actually done it now.

Their subsequent conversation is quite interesting too:

"What's with that look? You're the one who put violence on the table."

"...I-!! I didn't mean to............."

"Honestly it's all the same at this point."

Given the characters, we definitely shouldn’t necessarily take their words at face value, but even with that, I do think some part of Ashley is sincere here. When she held the cleaver to his neck, and when she offered a death threat, she still thought that she was just playing. This isn’t any different to Andrew taking his hands to her neck but not pressing hard enough to choke her, to her. She’s back-pedalling quite so hard to try and keep him, of course, this is Ashley we’re talking about… But I also don’t doubt that her sentiment is genuine. She didn’t exactly mean to.

And Andrew’s response tells us exactly why he’s so willing to cross that line. He just doesn’t care! Renee’s dead, so he doesn’t have to care about her rules and policies, and given how cynical he feels towards his life at this point, perhaps he wouldn’t care anyway. If this is a genuine way to get a response from Ashley, then he’ll try it, because for all that his mask of trying for normalcy is still up at this point, this is just between the two of them, where it!s always mattered the least, and as it is, that mask is quickly slipping.

I’d like to note this part of Ashley’s reaction as well, because, well… First we see that same shock as immediately after, but I’ve thought the exact same thing about that second frame, ever time I’ve seen it. With the background and the tears, isn’t this such a Leyley reaction? Such a Leyley expression?

Decay, especially Shots and Such which can follow on from this, is all about Ashley clinging to the Andy and Leyley dynamic to both of their detriments. It changes form as she feels she needs to adapt and find new ways to keep her Andy, but she’s constantly affirming whether or not she has Andy or Andrew because the violence and the hate all comes from Andrew to her, so when she’s continually trying to play Leyley, it keeps coming as a shock.

Andrew slaps her in the car, and she can only react as Leyley would. She never wants to be Ashley, because Ashley never fits into their games, and because Ashley has always been subconsciously rejected by Andrew. Being Ashley would mean facing what Andrew has done here rather than just making petty jokes about it for the rest of the episode and crying like I imagine she would have if her grandfather hit her.

But the cycle of violence only gets worse once Andrew continues to stew in apathy, and as perhaps he realises, that it does get a desired reaction from her. Ashley doesn’t respond in the long term to any threat that he throws, but she’s genuinely scared by the prospect of what him actually killing her means to her, and getting violent against her is a piece of that.

Part of what Shots and Such emphasises is that, even if it never works in the long run, Ashley does respond respond to violence, and that through out all of the ending, it remains Andrew’s way of fighting her.

This doesn’t exactly paint a happy picture of how Andrew regularly treats her. Er… Not that just about anything in Shots and Such is especially happy…

But it once again perpetuates the cycle of violence. Ashley gets actually violent now too, when she can. She makes sex painful for Andrew when she can, because that’s the degree of control she still has as someone who can’t a fight back when Andrew gets physical with her. She’s physically weaker, and with the bathroom lock torn down behind her, she has nowhere to hide. He beats her to short term avail to make himself feel better, and to keep her in line for tiny amount of time, and she gives that right back when she has her own opportunities.

And that’s all without actually talking about the scene of her getting beat.

Ashley’s a terrible person, but this scene is still very genuinely upsetting, because once again, something in her reaction comes across as genuine. She apologises profusely as her only way of even trying to get him to stop, and she goes back to the convenient story of being the scapegoat. She’s the problem, just like how he wants it to be. This doesn’t actually stop any of the heinous stuff she does to him after this point – if anything, it just makes her more desperate to try and exert control back when she gets the chance – but for a short while, it works. She shuts up and leaves him alone. She just makes cookies because that’s all that she can fathom that she’s good for.

Renee was right that hitting Ashley would never fix her behaviour. She was right after her grandfather had presumably done it to her as a young kid, and that was never the attention she needed, and she was right after Andrew crossed the line she set because she’s gone, and he has nothing left to lose. Hitting Ashley never teaches her any kind of actual lesson, save, of course, from how to act when people get violent with her.

All that’s learnt is how to behave in the short term to get the immediate beating to stop, and that’s enough for Andrew. Their push and pull has turned into violent fits against each other for control for just a short while, but he genuinely can’t care for it to be another way. After beating Ashley, he just once again reiterates that “I don’t care either way at this point” and that’s that.

It never fixes her behaviour, but it reinforces his. Just like his grandfather, Andrew becomes a wife beater, and he crosses Renee’s line for just a short moment of power and control. His spine is now like a gummy worm because he’s stuck in the easy cycle.

[hexhomos]

Dropping into the Mel convo to add that I don't see how the stans that erase/ignore the Things She Actually Does And Says and claim she was just helping Jayce out of the goodness of her heart can claim that anyone pointing out that she's a billionaire imperialist who manipulated him for her own gain is racist when THEY'RE the ones claiming she spent all of season 1 helping a nonblack man for. idk. reasons. Why is it "better" for her to be a Black woman who supported a man and asked for nothing in return...?

That reading of her makes everything with her mother make no sense. Is she like, just mad her mom is interfering with her ability to Support and Love Jayce? Lmao.

The reading that the text and the inherent set up of the politics of Piltover/Zaun supports is a complex woman with her own personal motivations, wanting to live up to the image of the family she believes shunned her on her own (nonviolent) terms, using the craft of social engineering (manipulation, etc) within the political and economic sphere rather than through weaponry and warfare. She starts to shift due to growing some actual attachment to Jayce, but it's not a perfect switch flip, and then her mother arriving forces Mel to contend with what she had actually been doing by "preparing" the city for her family.

That's infinitely more interesting than "oh she just helped this guy out of the kindness of her pure heart and because he's hot" and also has canonical basis that can be pointed to In The Text. That's a complicated, multifaceted character. The fanon Mel who just helped Jayce because she's a good person is a flat, tired trope.

And personally, I find people who "love" characters but have completely inaccurate readings of them to be far more annoying than people who "hate" characters but understand them perfectly. Love/hate is just a matter of taste. If someone can spend time honestly analyzing a character, that's more important than ten thousand blandly positive comments or tweeted out fanfictions dressed up as appreciation.

Paragraph #2 on this actually blindsided me like I could kiss you on the cheek (consensually) rn I've never been able to properly articulate WHY the take rankled me so much even when I tried to see it from a completely best-possible-intentions perspective. And this gets it. It's like you're not even flattening her into a girlboss caricature, it's worse, you're actually making her a 2D saccharine pastry servant with no will of her own except furthering some man's narrative as his mommy and denying the one massive, defining character conflict Mel has in the entire show: she is her mother's daughter! She IS a wolf in sheepskin!

When you have all this power, all this privilege and resources at your disposal from day 1, and you choose to look the other way - what happens then? Is this really being kinder than her mother? Is this being merciful, or just prolonging a sort of system-wide torture? It's absolutely relevant to how we see kid-Mel in that flashback from s1 too. Her idea of mercy and salvation from her mother's more violent ends is to enslave someone. She puts it in gentle terms and dresses it up fancily as a beneficial thing to both parties, but that is what she is proposing, in the context of the Noxus' hostile invasion of Ionia; they'd chain that princess and mold her in training until she became an useful asset in their service. Is that kindness? Is that good? I don't think Mel is able to answer to this even in her big age during season 1.

She certainly thinks it could be, when compared to death, but it's also a lie she tells herself while she ignores the rest of the world and the place she holds within it. Mel hates getting her hands dirty, because she's never /had/ to do that to enjoy the brilliant spoils of success; her mother loves her enough to make sure she could avoid the bloodshed. She carries the strategist's fallacy of thinking whole wars and countries can be managed from the privileged seats up top, out of touch with the blood and gristle. From up there, when people die you don't see it. You can mark the numbers off as necessary collateral damage in the path to Exponential Growth.

The core assumption that has always bothered me is defining this as 'kindness' without actually examining what it says about her character and the story. She was created that way for a reason. She was clothed in this way for a reason. The first fact we learn about Mel in the first episode she appears in is that she is the richest person in the entire city, and then there is a 10 year timeskip, and she hasn't truly done anything to address or prop up the undercity at all (they are ONE city too, under her own philosophy; Zaun is only a separate entity in the mouths of the zaunites who want freedom.) In that context, when her goal of statecraft clearly is to continue advancing Piltover as much as it can be advanced and do nothing about the screaming bleeding diseased dying hordes below the bowels of her capital - is that goodness? Is that really better than mother? I think Mel's arc is about finding out really quickly and really horrifically that it isn't, and that she played a big part in making a lot of things worse.

It's not that she failed at her job, it's quite the opposite. She succeeded in her mission so incredibly well her mother could swoop into power in a single day and then put another hundred necks to the blade, no sweat, and Mel has to reckon with what that says about her, and what she thought of herself. The power she has obviously always had and never sought to use as it Should have been used.

The idealistic future-path here is that now in full control of her Mother's armies, she's returning to Noxus to challenge the predatory system it perpetuates on a world scale, but only god knows what we'll see come January. And all of this is infinitely more interesting to me than docile fandomized ship accessory n.9999

[httpiastri]

"lando."

there's no reaction the first time, so the next time, your voice is just a tad louder and you give his shoulder a slight shake.

"lando."

he turns around in bed but only lets out a humming sound in response, his head nuzzling into his pillow. his breath is slow and steady, and you can't really tell if he's actually awake yet. your next words definitely wake him up, though.

"she just kicked."

his eyes fly open instantly, looking at you almost in disbelief. "what?"

"i could feel it, it was so hard," you tell him with a nod. "she really did kick, i promise."

lando almost can't believe his ears. you'd both been waiting for this moment for so many weeks now – a baby's kicks are something every expecting parent eagerly anticipates, after all – and here you are, telling him it finally happened. your little one has been very inactive so far, with basically no movement or activity of any kind. but the doctors and midwives all told you it was normal, nothing out of the ordinary, so you haven't worried.

your little daughter may have been late to the party, but it doesn't matter to either of you – because here you are with a suddenly very much active and living baby in your stomach. suddenly, you have a confirmation that all of this is actually real.

lando lies frozen, so you reach over to grab one of his hands and place it on the side of your stomach, right where you felt the first kick. you're both silent in anticipation, as if your speaking would hinder him from feeling it properly. your eyes shut as you wish over and over that she'll kick again, just to prove that you didn't just imagine things, and just to prove that she's there and alive and well and-

lando's heart almost jumps out of his chest when he feels it. a kick. and quite the strong one, even. he feels his entire body softening as a giant smile reaches his lips. he leans forward slightly, head tilting down towards your bump. "hey there, baby," he starts. "daddy here." his palm strokes up and down your skin. "you're growing and moving already, huh? are you getting ready to come out here and meet us soon?"

as if she's been listening to his words, she answers his questions by kicking yet again. and again. and again. lando's eyes flicker between your face and the bump, mouth gaping wide. you both break out into giggles like a pair of teenagers, smiles so big your cheeks start to hurt. "i'd take that as a yes," you say, intertwining your fingers with his on your belly.

lando leans down to press a sweet kiss to the bump, imagining your little daughter feeling his adoration through your skin. if he could shower her with affection and love already, he would. but he'll just have to wait until she arrives, though every day that passes without him getting to hold her in his arms is unbearable.

"i don't think i'll be able to go back to sleep," you tell him after a few moments of silence. "i'm too eager to feel her kick more."

he nods agreeingly, the excitement inside of him too big to contain, too. now he leans in to kiss your cheek instead, giving your fingers a slight squeeze. "twenty more weeks," he whispers.

"twenty more weeks."

[a-kind-of-merry-war]

I have no excuses. Short, silly nonsense. Once again you can blame @scrunggly-art for this, entirely because I found her mix-up with this art extremely fucking funny. In which Henry has a request, and Hans gets confused.

"Hans--"

Hans stops. "Yes?" he mutters, from his position halfway down Henry's chest.

"I've been thinking..."

Hans resists the urge to sigh and leans up, placing a final lingering kiss to Henry's nipple as he does.

"Yes?"

"I wondered if you wanted to try, ah..."

He's blushing. It's fucking adorable. "Out with it, Hal."

"If you wanted to be... fuck--"

He's wriggling, now, looking away. Hans reaches out to cup his jaw, turning him to look at him.

"If I wanted to be what?"

"If you wanted to try being... on top."

Oh. Hans bites back a laugh: Henry looks so sincere that he couldn't possibly giggle at him while he's being so vulnerable. But it's such a simple, easily given request. He can't believe Henry has managed to work himself up so much over it.

"Is that all?" he drawls. "It would be my pleasure, believe me."

He leans back, slings a leg over Henry's hips so he's straddling him and holds himself sure and straight-backed: the stance he takes while riding. Henry peers up at him. He's frowning.

"Hans--"

Hans squeezes his thighs, gripping Henry between them, and spits into his palm. "Yes?"

Henry opens and shuts his mouth a few times. "...nothing."

⚔ ⚔ ⚔

Afterwards, both sweaty and spent and Henry sporting some stinging, red marks across the plane of his back, they lie tangled together on the bed, sleepily taking each other in.

Henry swallows. He's going to have to explain sooner or later, he knows. May as well be now, when Hans is too blissful to feel too embarrassed about the whole affair. And it's not like Henry is disappointed: any thoughts of what he'd really had in mind had been banished as soon as Hans had sunk down on him. But still: he's going to have to tell him.

"Hans..."

Hans looks at him through lidded eyes. "Hmm?"

"Look, don't take this the wrong way, but--"

Hans's eyes snap open properly. "But what?"

Shit. Careful steps. "When I said... when I asked if you wanted to try, you know... being on top?"

"...did you not enjoy yourself?"

He looks fucking alarmed, now.

"No! I mean: yes, it was... it was great. Brilliant. Really," Henry quickly clarifies. "It's just... that wasn't what I meant."

Hans frowns. "What? But... I was on top. What are you on about?"

Henry chews on his lip. He's aware - quite painfully aware, sometimes - of how inexperienced the both of them are at laying with another man. He tries to remember what Bartosch had told him that night in Trosky Castle, after Henry had made an arse of himself when he hadn't been able to answer his questions about preferences.

"Right," he says, "But the thing is, what I meant - what that means - is that wanted to know if you wanted to, well, you know. Give rather than receive. That's what that means. Being on top."

Hans frowns. Then his eye go wide.

"Oh. Oh. Oh, Jesus Christ, Henry--" he bursts into peals of laughter then quickly slaps his hand over his mouth to smother them. "And when I-- you must have thought I was insane. I should have realised. And you should have said something!"

Henry shrugs. That, he cannot deny.

"I was going to," he says, "but you did that thing with your legs, and, well. I figured I'd ask again another time. Didn't want to put you off."

Hans snorts with poorly constrained laughter. "God, Henry. Didn't want to put me off. Really." He moves closer and kisses him. Henry can feel him smile against his lips. "So what you were really asking, my dearest friend, is if I can fuck you in the arse for a change?"

Henry feels himself blush. "...yes," he says.

Hans rolls his eyes and places a firm hand to Henry's bare hip.

"I'd love to," he says, eyes dark and sparkling. "But Christ Above, Henry, really."

"What?" Henry protests, trying to ignore the feeling of his cock already twitching back to life.

"Next time--" Hans squeezes him, rubbing his thumb over his hipbone, "just fucking ask."

[illyrianshadow]

Lost in Shadows (pt. IV)

Summary: Will you finally be able to reconnect with Azriel know that the truth of your connection has been revealed?

Warnings: don't think there really are any, though there might be a lot more coming in the next chapters 👀

A/N: It took me a while to write this one, I hope I did it justice. I don't know what possessed me to make these two so sickeningly sweet and tortured. I hope you enjoy, please let me know your thoughts!!

Word Count: 2.6K

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

———————

Your hands wrap around the ice cold glass of water Azriel has placed in front of you. You relish the feeling of the cool material against your skin, willing the sensation to bring you back to reality. You need to focus, clear the haze in your head so you can properly face the male in front of you. 

You curse the mother for being this stupid, struggling to remember why you thought being drunk for this moment would solve all your problems. Now that you are actually facing Azriel, now that you know that he’s your mate, all you wish is for the effects of the alcohol to disappear as quickly as possible. 

Your hands are shaking as you lift the glass of water to your lips, the refreshing liquid taking away some of the burn the many drinks have left in your system. 

You urge the alcohol in your bloodstream to dissolve and try and force your head to clear. You don’t want to be drunk for this moment. You have waited too long for this. 

Luckily your Illyrian heritage sees to it that any alcohol you consume evaporates at a fast pace once you stop drinking, and it’s already been a little while since you had your last shot.

As you continue to drink your water, you can feel your drunken state easing off. The cool liquid mingled with the leftover remnants of alcohol lowering its effects to a soft buzz. This you can work with. 

You turn back to Azriel, savouring the feeling of his hand still resting on top of your own. You can feel the outline of his scars on your soft skin, the weight providing a comforting warmth. You feel dizzy, heart rate speeding up as you recall the words he’s just spoken to you. 

I can’t believe you’re finally here. 

Silver pools in your eyes and relief floods through you as you process their meaning. He remembers. 

A single teardrop starts to make its way down your cheek. One of Azriel’s shadows frantically reaches out to wipe it away before it can reach the bottom of your chin and drop onto the bar. 

He is still studying you. Worry clouding his handsome features as he tries to decipher what you’re feeling through the jumble of emotions now ablaze in his chest. With the bond now fully awake it’s hard for him to separate your emotions from his own. 

One of his hands reaches out to wipe away a fresh tear, a small gasp leaving your lips at the sensation of his skin replacing the soft touch of his shadow. He rests his hand on your cheek and tilts your face towards his own so he can study your eyes. 

“S?” His nickname for you falls from his lips, barely more than a whisper, and another tear threatens to fall from hearing it after so long.

He always used to say you were just as much a part of him as his shadows. He’d teasingly started calling you “his shadow girl”, “shadow” or simply “S”.

The mere memory is enough to make you feel fuzzy inside. 

You’ve not felt like this in centuries. 

You drink in the sight of the male in front of you, letting your eyes roam over his form freely now that he’s finally close enough to you for you to really take him in.  

He definitely looks… intimidating. You look down to the expanse of his chest, studying the exquisite muscles you can see underneath the stretched fabric. Letting your eyes wander to his broad arms, you notice the tattoos peeking out from underneath the short sleeves of his shirt and wonder how much more of the black ink is hidden underneath his clothes. You quickly look away before it becomes obvious that you are practically undressing him with your eyes. You let your gaze wander to his wings instead, and your eyes widen slightly at the size of them. 

You feel a slight flush beginning to form on your cheeks as you stare at the soft looking membrane. You can’t help but wonder if it’s true what they said about Illyrian males and their wingspans as you study them. You blame the hint of alcohol for your brazen thoughts. That and the overwhelming primal need to claim the male in front of you as yours. 

After a few moments of unapologetic staring your eyes shift back to his face. You find him examining you intently. Shadows swirling around him as he’s looking you over to make sure you are okay. 

He might be one of the most intimidating Illyrian warriors in history, but in the way he is looking at you right now, all you can see is that little boy staring up at you from the forest floor, eyes wide and vulnerable, all of his emotions readable in his open expression. 

One of his shadows wraps itself around your wrist in a comforting touch and you can feel some of the tension you’ve been feeling leave your body in relief. You’re really here, home, with him. 

You realise you have not said a word to him since he’s spoken the words you wished to hear for so long.  

“I told you I would find my way back to you.” you say softly, voice rough and trembling slightly from the lump forming in your throat. 

You lean slightly closer to him, the instinct to touch him overwhelming you. The golden thread connecting you is screaming for attention, begging you to get out of here as fast as you can and get lost in each other. To claim him. 

“I never doubted it for a second.” he whispers back, his hazel eyes burning with intensity. You can feel all of his emotions, the magnitude of both your feelings threatening to overwhelm you. 

You notice the hand that is not on yours moving toward your knee, but Azriel seems to stop himself, seemingly not quite sure if he’s okay to touch you. You give him a small smile and reach out, moving his hand back toward your leg. The comforting touch makes your skin feel like it’s on fire. 

Your position feels very intimate considering your current surroundings and you wish there was somewhere you could go to be fully alone. 

You’re suddenly very aware of being watched. You look around and a rush of anxiety floods through you. People are looking at the pair of you, clearly wanting to know more about the female engaged in an obviously intimate conversation with the Spymaster of the Night Court. 

When you came back to Velaris a couple of days ago you promised yourself you’d lay low until you were absolutely certain it was safe. Seeing Azriel and making the decision to approach him had thrown you off balance, made you careless.  

You notice some of Azriel’s shadows wrapping around you both as if they share your need to be alone with him. Even after all these years they still seem attuned to your thoughts and feelings. 

Grateful for the illusion of privacy, you move your chair slightly closer to his until your legs are touching, the leather of his trousers resting against the soft material of your own. 

Azriel’s shadows wrap around you even tighter, sheltering you from the rest of the bar and creating a familiar blanket of comfort. 

“Is there somewhere private we can go to talk?” you whisper. 

The sentence has barely left your lips before you feel a familiar coolness wrapped around your form, followed by a sensation that makes you feel as if you’re being pushed through darkness. 

Not long later you feel cold air on your skin and cobblestones under your feet and realise you’re in an alley outside the bar. 

A soft laugh leaves your lips as you wonder what else his shadows can do now that Azriel has fully learned to control them. 

He smiles at you, stepping slightly closer. “I know somewhere we can go, do you trust me?” 

You just nod your head and before you have time to process what’s happening, his arms wrap around you as he lifts you up from the ground, cradling you against his chest. You squeal at the unexpected movement, a sound that draws a soft laugh from Azriel’s lips. 

You’ve not been in the sky in centuries. When you both got older and Azriel properly mastered his flying, he used to take you out sometimes. The trips were few and far between as he was only able to take you when it was dark and you were sure you couldn’t be spotted by the camp below. 

You used to live for those short trips. Being Illyrian, you’d always loved the feeling of being in the air. You hated being stuck on the ground, your instincts always causing you to look upwards, towards the sky. It had taken years to get over the grief of not having wings of your own. 

You look up at him from the position in his arms, a big smile now on your lips. 

“Hi.” The word leaves your lip in a soft giggle. 

“Hello.” He whispers back, an equally big smile plastered on his own face. It’s a funny sight, this big intimidating Illyrian male wearing such a giddy expression. 

He presses you closer to him, and you lean your head against his chest as you close your eyes and breathe in his rich scent. 

“Ready?” His warm breath touches your ear as he asks the question and the sensation sends a shiver down your spine. Being this close to him makes you want to rip his clothes off and do very bad things to him. You pray to the mother that he doesn’t notice how this is making you feel. 

“Ready.” You reply, and you can feel him push off from the ground. 

As you soar through the air above Velaris you feel happier than you have in centuries. You forgot what it felt like to be airborne. You take in the view of the city from the top and marvel at its beauty. The sidra looks like liquid starlight and the little lights scattered through the streets below make the city look like the night sky. 

It’s breathtaking. 

“As are you.” 

Your eyes widen at the sound of Azriel’s voice echoing in your mind and you feel a soft blush on your cheeks from the sentiment. Another part of your connection that you’ll have to get used to. You must have let your guard down enough for your thoughts to reach him through the bond. 

After a short flight you touch down in a small forest clearing and Azriel carefully puts you down, smiling at you sheepishly. 

Of course he brought you to the forest, it’s only fitting to do this in the place you both feel most at home in. 

You take in your surroundings. You can’t be too far away from the city. The trees are different from the ones in the forest surrounding Windhaven, but the environment is not any less peaceful. It’s perfect. 

As he sits down and pats the ground next to him, tears start to fall down your cheeks once more. You weren’t sure you’d ever get to do this again. You are overwhelmed by the fact that you’re here with him. 

The knowledge that he’s your mate, combined with both of your emotions ablaze in your chest, shatters the walls you put up to stop yourself from crying. You have not cried this much in centuries, normally taking pride in your ability to compose yourself and keep your emotions steady. 

As you start sobbing you lower yourself on to the ground next to him. He immediately pulls you close to his chest, shadows engulfing you both to block out the world from view. Your own secret hideaway. 

Sobs rack through your body as Azriels hands stroke your hair with a softness that makes you feel like it’s okay to show him your emotions. He’d always made you feel like it was okay to be vulnerable. 

When your breathing evens out and you feel like you can form words again, you lean into his side and take his hand in your own. 

“I was worried you wouldn’t remember me.” you say softly, not daring to look at him. The shadows are providing the same comfort they used to when you were younger, making you feel like you can whisper your deepest secrets into the darkness. 

You hear his breathing catch at that, a soft whimper leaving his lips. You feel agony flair through the bond and as you sit up to look at him, you notice tears streaming down his face, mirroring your own expression from not too long ago. 

“My love..” he says softly, and your heart swells at the term of endearment. “I could never forget you.”

He moves his hand towards the top button of his shirt, undoing it to reveal a thin gold chain. Attached is a small tube that looks like it can fit something inside. He unscrews it and shakes it softly to reveal a bit of rolled up paper. 

“My most prized possession.” 

He hands it to you, and as you unroll it reveals familiar handwriting. Your own. It’s the note you left him the day you fled to Velaris. How has it survived all this time? 

Azriel points at the little golden tube when he detects your puzzled expression. “It’s enchanted.” You notice a small blush starting to form on his cheeks. “I had to make sure I could keep a part of you with me. I wanted to keep a piece of you close to my chest. Close to..” he takes a deep trembling breath before speaking his next words. “Close to the bond. I think it comforted it somehow, relieved some of the ache.” 

The meaning of his words hit you. He’d known. All this time he’d known you were his mate, and had to deal with the knowledge by himself. Your heart breaks at the thought of the mating bond sitting unanswered for centuries. All you want is to feel him close. To show him you are here now, that you are his. That you’re not going anywhere. 

The all-consuming need to claim him overwhelms you once more. 

You’re sure the complete adoration you feel for him has to be written all over your face as you stare at him. You move closer, needing to feel his lips on your own. You’re about to close the distance between you when his eyes go vacant, as if all of his focus is projected inward. 

When his expression clears again he looks at you, all the colour drained from his face. “That was Rhys.” 

Anxiety starts to build in your chest. You know of the High Lord’s daemati abilities, and given the feeling of Azriel’s overwhelming fear building in your chest, you know whatever he’s about to reveal cannot be good. 

“There’s unrest in one of the Illyrian mountain camps. He’s worried there might be a rebellion coming.” 

You’re scared to ask the question burning on your lips. “What camp Az?”

He stays quiet for a moment, scared to reveal the truth to you. “Az?” you press. 

You feel like the world disappears from underneath you at the words that leave his lips.  

“Frost Edge.”

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[fairestwriting]

Could I rq Riddle, Azul, and Ace seeing reader’s friend from RSA half-jokingly,half-seriously asking them to transfer to their school? They can even bring Grim with them.

I really like you’re writing btw <3

𐙚 Riddle Rosehearts

“The paperwork for that would be very complicated.” He interrupts their train of thought so quickly, but it’s just because he’s definitely heard that same joke himself before. “Believe me, I know someone who goes there too. It’d be especially difficult for them to allow in a familiar, I hear.”

He doesn’t really get the joke part. Just like he doesn’t get it when Che’nya jokes about transferring to NRC, or making him transfer to RSA. They’re both great, prestigious magic schools, and the transfer process is downright grueling, if there’s no specific reason for it, transferring would be a stupid idea— That’s what’s going through his mind right now.

“Besides, it’s not like going to different schools stops you from talking to each other. You’re doing it right now, aren’t you?” He comments, setting down his tea cup. Whatever your friend’s true intentions were with that comment, he shuts them down pretty efficiently, even if it wasn’t his intention at all. One might even wonder if the idea makes Riddle jealous…

…And it does, just a little bit, but that’s not the main point here. Really. Even if you ask him, he’ll just kind of pout about it and tell you that if you do want to transfer, at least make sure you do it properly. Gets embarrassed at how much he dislikes the idea, but he’s not a good enough liar to hide it.

𐙚 Ace Trappola

“Whaaat, you can’t do that! There’s no way a fancy school like that would let that weasel in.” His response starts off all dramatic and whiny sounding, but he quickly breaks into a smirk. He’s like the opposite of Riddle, instead of not catching onto the joking part, it’s the seriousness that flies right over his head.

He can tell your RSA friend is attached to you, sure, he’s observant enough to see that. But that would be a pretty crazy idea, wouldn’t it? If even transferring dorms within the same school is a huge pain, he can’t even begin to imagine how much work it’d be to transfer schools.

When you all go your separate ways, he comments about your RSA friend being a “funny” guy. It does really sound like the sort of thing a stereotypical RSA student would say, to him. It has a sort of overly charitable, “thinks the world is sunshine and rainbows” feel, he explains. Maybe it makes sense to you, maybe it doesn’t. Either way, Ace can’t possibly take it seriously. If you ever tell him you’re actually thinking about transferring, it’ll be a surprise to him.

Honestly, he likely won’t even associate your idea with your friend’s comment, unless you specifically mention that. Then it’s more like “Really? You’re willing to do all that just to get closer to some goody two-shoes? Wow, someone has a crush.”, laughing as he teases you, hardly believing the whole thing at all.

𐙚 Azul Ashengrotto

“Oh, it’s very kind of you to offer to help with the process like that. It would take a lot of work, if they do decide to do this.”Azul responds pleasantly, but the polite smile on his face doesn’t quite reach his eyes as they fixate on that friend of yours. It might’ve truly been intended to come off as just a silly, affectionate joke, but he doesn’t like it.

Depending on how observant you are, you might be able to feel the instant change of atmosphere surrounding the three of you. Obviously, Azul isn’t going to actually argue against the guy, who do you take him for— But there’s not a single overtly positive reply coming out of his mouth either. Anytime the idea of you transferring is brought up, he’ll sneak in a reminder of how difficult the process is, all while keeping that smile on his face.

As your RSA friend says goodbye to you both, you’re left with a bit of a strange feeling. And Azul will talk about how it was such a pleasure to be introduced to your friend, he’s looking forward to speaking to them again, the Lounge’s doors are always open to them if you want to hang out, etc. And he’ll pretend he has no clue what you’re talking about if you point out he’s behaving weirdly.

Of course he doesn’t want to admit it’s jealousy, that would be just childish— The truth is pretty clear if you know him well enough, however. He doesn’t actually think they could convince you to put yourself through all that… but it surely it wouldn’t hurt to remind you it’s easier to stay, right?

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[pieandflannel]

౨ৎ ₊˚⊹ talking to the moon 🌔

₊⊹ ʚ ₊⊹｡ ⋆ ˚ ⋆ ｡˚ ₊⊹｡ ₊⊹ ୨♡୧ ⊹₊ ｡⊹₊ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ˚ ⋆ ｡⊹₊ ɞ ⊹₊

pairing: dean winchester x gn!reader

summary: you never really got over deans death.

cw: heavy angst, death, grief, denial. brief reference to events in s15.

word count: 684

julia yaps: i literally cried while writing this… </3 (proof)

inspo: talking to the moon by bruno mars + s15 ep20

────────── ୨ৎ ──────────

you knew the risks of this job. you and the boys always have. any day can be your last, every hunter knew it and accepted that fate, but now?— you are taking baby out for another ride onto an empty field where you regularly go, you park it and walk out, the door creaking like always, something dean never really cared to take care of when it came to baby. but that’s what gave her personality.

you sit on the hood of the impala looking up at the darkening sky, dean’s last words to you repeating themselves inside your head. “when you look up at the night sky and see the first star appear, that’ll be me saying i love you, so look out for it, okay sweetheart?”

you take off the jacket you’re wearing, dean’s favourite green jacket, and lay it beside you on the hood. you gently stroke the canvas material, a button finding it’s way under your fingertips. tears forming in your eyes as you remember how much dean loved to wear that jacket. You didn’t even have the courage to wash it.

the feeling of longing ripping you apart from the inside out. no matter how long ago it happened, it will never feel real. denial haunts you every single day ever since dean passed away.

as you wipe away your tears you notice the first star up in the sky, “hi dean” you spoke softly with a small sad smile, not being able to hold your tears in. soft sobs coming from your petite being.

rarely has there been a night where you didn’t talk to the moon and stars, desperately hoping that they pass on your messages to heavens mailroom.

“i miss you so much… we all do, especially sammy.. he misses his older brother” you say, your voice croaky from the tears. you wipe your eyes with your sleeve, it’s being stained with your tears after so many nights of crying.

“miracle literally has to have one of your flannels in his doggy bed in order to sleep properly..” you spoke up to the sky, but deep down you were praying that dean was listening.

“i even gave baby a bath today..” you share, your hand gently patting her, imagining dean proudly smiling at the news. “i couldn’t collect myself to clean the inside just yet… but at least she’s shiny on the outside now” tears welling up in your eyes as you talk with a pained smile.

“i hope you know how much i love you… and that there is not a single day where i don’t think about you” you take a deep breath, trying to stop yourself from sobbing. the frosty air burning your nostrils. but the cold weather doesn’t stop you from talking to dean before sleep. it became a ritual, a habit of yours. you couldn’t go to sleep unless you did so.

you sit in silence for a good while, just appreciating the stars shining. star gazing used to be your and deans go to date. he would drive the impala onto this exact field, park it and the two of you would simply gaze up into the night sky, cuddle up into each other and exchange some stories or memories of yours. whether it was a funny one or traumatic, it didn’t matter because you had each other.

this was also the place where dean confessed his feelings for you years ago, so this spot holds a very special place in your heart.

the faint sounds of your sniffles echo through the grass, you take a deep breath before speaking up again, “i should get going.. but i’ll be back tomorrow” you reassure, grabbing the jacket and putting it on before sliding down the car.

you wave up into the sky, and at that exact moment a shooting star flies across the sky. you gasp softly deciding to take that as a sign, you were well aware that others thought of you as a bit delusional, but you didn’t care, you needed to believe. faith is what kept you somewhat sane.

“goodnight dean, sleep well”

disclaimer: grief can be a very very difficult thing to deal with, i myself go through it every day for the past couple of years, it never really goes away, so if you ever need someone to talk to or for someone to simply hear you out, feel free to message/contact me! you are never alone and you always have me! <333

thank you so much for reading! feedback and reblogs are always deeply appreciated <3

tags: @jensino @emeraldcrs @soldiersgirl @jensenacklesballsack @missus-ackles @littlesoulshine @deanswifeyy @slut4jackles @h8aaz @figisonline @figthoughts @angelicjackles @losers-clvb @lyarr24 @cowboysandcigarettes @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @rositaslabyrinth @deanspookiebear @tinas111 @bejeweledinterludes @heartrendercastiel

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[loveamongdragons]

I've been thinking about what sort of conflicts Zuko and Katara would realistically have if they ever ended up together. I mostly either see fan interpretations where they bicker a lot, or where they have total understanding between each other, but I don't think that either would be the case.

So, first of all, the typical enemies-to-lovers who bicker all the time to hide the sexual tension trope is just not about Zutara: in the latter part of book 3, we see their wholesome and understanding relationship, and we can safely assume that this is what the basis of their bond will be going on forward.

However.

Conflicts happen, and especially if we are talking about a Katara that emerges from a long-term relationship with Aang, I think we will have two pitfalls she'd be frequently running into:

Trying to mother Zuko out of habit. Bonus points if she did not do it prior to them entering a relationship and then suddenly started doing so. Katara has been parentified, and she is used to playing the motherly persona for her partner - something that might cause Zuko to feel infantilized, leading to anger. Or: he might feel that he can't get through to Katara, and that she is acting not as herself, causing some sort of frustration he'd have no word for.

suddenly not voicing her opinion when she disagrees with him, out of fear that he'd bolt. Only applies if Katara emerged from a really long relationship with Aang where this continued to be an issue throughout the years, and it's admittedly less likely than the first one. Still, I can see a Katara hiding her thoughts out of habit, getting subconsciously angry about it, Zuko getting angry too because he feels that some sort of tension is in the air, and that Katara is more on edge than usual, and not understanding what the issue is.

On the other hand, we'd have Zuko misinterpreting innocuous phrases, especially if he emerged from a long-term relationship with Mai (who, let's admit it, tends to leave a lot of barbed comments).

So, we might have a Zuko who hides behind a wall due to suddenly feeling inadequate or despised, and Katara, understandably, not getting what the deal was. Bonus points if it triggers a trauma reaction in Katara due to memories of Aang bolting and leaving her.

We might also have a Zuko who got used to others not giving a lick of care regarding what he does and where he goes, and thus failing to communicate his plans properly, causing (again, understandably) anger in Katara. Again, bonus points if it reminds her of Aang's tendency to disappear.

Let me be clear: none of these would be relationship-breaking, and with how much trust and intimacy there is between them, I fully believe that they'd be able to sort it out. But especially at the beginning of a relationship, I believe that these issues would keep tailing them. In time, it would probably evolve into comments like "you're doing this thing again" and "ah... yes... sorry, my bad."

[wordsinhaled]

i simply had to write a little something inspired by this phenomenal payneland AU comic by @idliketobeatree !!! so this is their first hug once charles can finally see and touch edwin, after years of edwin being a ghostly presence in his life <3

-

In the end, Charles is the one who gives Edwin the biggest, tightest hug.

Edwin is stiff at first. Then he melts into it, his spectral body softening like so much candle wax in Charles' arms. He has wanted to hold Charles in just this way for an abominably long time. He simply had not imagined it would be Charles almost bowling him over with such pure excitement just at the sight of him. He does not think anyone has ever been so pleased to be in his presence. "Charles!" he exclaims in surprise, something between a squawk and a laugh startling out of him—but Charles is nuzzling him now, and sighing happily, tucking his nose into Edwin's collar and not letting go, and Edwin can muster little else to say. Charles is warm against him, inexplicably and wonderfully so, and it has been so achingly long since Edwin has been held like this. Perhaps he has never been held like this, because he has never been held by Charles Rowland before. Charles Rowland, who rocks him a little bit from side to side as though Edwin is something long-lost and dear, something familiar eagerly rediscovered. When Charles pulls back he's beaming. "That was brills," he enthuses. "Don't know how long I've been wanting to do that, really. Feels like ages. Hope you're fine with me being a proper octopus, mate." Then he hesitates. "That—wait—that wasn't too much, was it? I mean, I don't wanna overwhelm you or nothing—" "Charles," Edwin says. "All is well. I was merely surprised at first by your... exuberance." Charles cuts a glance at Edwin, an altogether too-charming one through his lashes, abashed but persistent. "Well, 'course I'm exuberant, aren't I? Just found out my best ghost mate is proper real. Had me thinking I'd gone round the bend for a tick." A pause, and a different sort of shyness. "So... the hugging... it's okay, then? Not gonna run off on me?" Edwin, it seems, is learning even more new ghost rules as they speak. He feels his face heat; something he had not thought possible. "I admit it was not as common in my time as it is in yours to embrace quite so freely. Yet I find myself..." He coughs delicately. "Perfectly amenable." "Oh," Charles says. Edwin wonders if he imagines a matching flush rising on Charles' cheeks. "Good. That's good." He rocks back on his heels, looks like he's biting back another thousand-watt grin—the kind that Edwin has witnessed secondhand but, in the short time Charles has been able to aim it at him directly, has begun doing truly perilous things to Edwin's long-dead and incorporeal insides. "God, I can't believe I can properly hear you! Like, you've got a, a voice and all. And—" He gestures broadly at Edwin. "Wow. Y'know?" "Yes," Edwin says faintly. "I believe I do know."

[heeaara]

BiKER BOYFRiEND @ psh ✿── ( 남자친구 성훈 ) 𓈒𓈒

biker bf ━ park sunghoon && 𝑓.reader ⟡ 1.5k wc , cw ... relationship, skinship, petnames, headcanons. overall fluff ♡

ARA's NOTE : idk if it's written good i basically just blabbered wtv, bare w me tanks. im jkjk its good trust.

BiKER BF SUNGHOON ━ who saw you at one of his night races for the first time, thinking you were the most beautiful and alluring woman he had ever laid his eyes on, with an adorable smile that enhanced your features to the greatest extent. It was definitely love at first sight, he had thought to himself.

BiKER BF SUNGHOON ━ who had been thinking about you nonstop since the day he saw you at his race. Your face, your outfit, your smile, and not to mention, your captivating aura that had him attracted towards you immensely, in ways he could not explain. He was down bad, and he knew it.

BiKER BF SUNGHOON ━ who kept a boutique of flowers everyday at your doorsteps, in different kinds and different colors with cute short love notes saying "━ with all my heart" or "you entice me and enchant me". It had always left you flabbergasted and amused, and when it had been two weeks since this was going on, you knew you had to find the one who had been leaving you these flowers and these small love notes. You had to find your secret admirer. 

BiKER BF SUNGHOON ━ who looked down due to embarrassment. Your hands crossed over your chest, your eyes piercing right through his soul. You had finally caught him, you had finally caught your secret admirer and when you found out it was the one and only park sunghoon ━ the handsome biker you saw long ago when you had went to see one of the races, you felt amazed.

BiKER BF SUNGHOON ━ who felt as if his heart was about to explode and jump out of his chest. You had invited him to your house. When you had caught him, you obviously needed an explanation. He knew he was doomed and he knew he was embarrassed as hell. He could feel his cheeks on fire when you had made eye contact with him, your eyes silently looking for answers. "care to explain?" you had asked him as you kept a tray of snacks and two glasses of juice on the table.

BiKER BF SUNGHOON ━ who had gathered all the courage to tell you how he really felt. He knew he couldn't lie and you weren't that stupid enough to believe his made up excuses. He had fallen in love with you, he told you. He wasn't able to keep his mind off you since the day he had seen you at the races. He had confessed he really wanted you, infact, he needed you. With him, in his life.

BiKER BF SUNGHOON ━ who had been trying immensely since the day you had heard his confession and you had allowed him to sugar coat you. You had thought to yourself, why not give it a chance ? and not to mention, you too had found him attractive. He was handsome yet kind of reckless and you liked that. But, you weren't sure about your own feelings, you weren't sure if you wanted to have a relationship with him yet. Moreover, you had never known him well. You still had a lot to figure out.

BiKER BF SUNGHOON ━ who would take you out on dates like going to the beach or exploring the city or on some luxurious dates. He would send you small texts throughout the day and not to mention, he still left boutique of flowers every single day, along with small texts and chocolates or candies with the side. At the point you felt that your house was about to become a whole store of flowers. You enjoyed your time with him.

BiKER BF SUNGHOON ━ who was actually about to cry when you had confessed your feelings to him. After a whole of two months of him sugarcoating you, he knew his hard work had paid off. He knew he had finally completed his mission. He was finally able to win your heart and he had felt like as if the luckiest man alive. 

BiKER BF SUNGHOON ━ who knew he had to propose you properly and he thought the best place to do that was of course, at one of his races. He had invited you to his night time races. He had been qualified to the finals and he knew he had to win it. Not for him, but for you. He was indeed nervous as hell since he had to make his plan work out one way or another.

BiKER BF SUNGHOON ━ who had won the race and the very first person who came to his mind was you. 

BiKER BF SUNGHOON ━ who had kneeled on one feet as he took out the ring with a, red boutique of flowers. This wasn't a wedding proposal though, but he didn't care, he had to make his proposal an unforgettable memory which you and him would narrate to your kids in the future, if you both ever marry.

BiKER BF SUNGHOON ━ who softly made you wear the ring and not to mention, you were actually sobbing. You had absolutely and utterly loved his surprise. It was unexpected but it had made you shake to your core. You knew you loved this man more than yourself and you were meant to be his.

BiKER BF SUNGHOON ━ who kissed you softly in front of the crowd. Your lips perfectly molding in his, as if they were made for each other. It was the kind of kiss, a kind of sign, that was filled with love and unsaid promises. Moreover, it was a gesture of full claim, to let everyone know you belonged to him and him only.

BiKER BF SUNGHOON ━ who had brought you and him couple necklaces with a pendant that had your initials on it. The necklace serving as a reminder for the both of you. Even if you both were far away from each other, the necklace gave out as a sign of both of you being each others, even if the both you were planets away. 

BiKER BF SUNGHOON ━ who would call you "princess" as if it were his favorite word. The word just came naturally on his lips, it was a term that was for you only. An indication of total endearment, also, it was his word for calling you elegant and beautiful. You were like a goddess in his eyes, he loved you immensly.

BiKER BF SUNGHOON ━ who would take you on late night bike rides up to the hill for stargazing considering how much you loved the stars, moon, astronomy in general. The stars always reminded him of you. You were a star as well, you were his star, always shining bright without even trying, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he'd think to himself.

BiKER BF SUNGHOON ━ who would sneak into your house right in the middle of the night through your window, just to see you sleep in his arms, softly wrapped around you. You'd always feel flabbergasted every time he did that. You still remember the very first night he had sneaked into your house, you thought you were dreaming. It was funny the way you had opened your eyes, saw him, yelled and had pushed him off your bed. He was crazy and you loved it.

BiKER BF SUNGHOON ━ who would let you do his hair. He was so cute, you thought to yourself. This man had you at the palm of his hand. You knew you were two times crazier for him than he was for you.

BiKER BF SUNGHOON ━ who would suddenly kiss your cheek without even a warning. He loved when you yapped about things and he loved the way he would catch you off guard whenever he'd kiss your cheek in the middle of your yap session.

BiKER BF SUNGHOON ━ who would teach you how to ride his bike. 

BiKER BF SUNGHOON ━ who would beat the shit out of every single man who'd talk to you or talk shit about you.. He wasn't toxic but he was a very jealous man. He was possessive about you. You belonged to him, you were his. He hated every single guy who'd check you out, considering how kind of a pure soul you were. He absolutely loathed it. In fact, he would totally commit arson if anyone tried to hurt you or bad mouth you. Whether it be a male, or a female. He did not care, he'd protect you and keep you happy no matter what.

BiKER BF SUNGHOON ━ who would give up heaven if he had to, just for you <3

TAGLiST : @sugarikiz @vmpivory @manaah02 @liwinly

[tillsfan]

a dive into Till’s feelings regarding Ivan and Mizi!

ivantill’s whole thing is being INSANELY complicated. i am a full on believer that they have mutual (unrealized) feelings, but i think the word “love” is definitely too vague to properly describe what they have. vivinos said a “deep LOVE/HATE” relationship for a reason.

i think till both genuinely feeling love for ivan yet hating him at the same time is absolutely reasonable. ivan has pushed and pulled till his whole life. till never felt secure near ivan, as much as he cares about him. but, ivan was always there. till felt comfort with ivan’s presence despite the lack of security he gave. till heavily valued ivan’s opinion, getting upset when ivan implied he didn’t see till as a friend. he trusted ivan enough to attempt to run away with him, and he potentially would have spent the rest of his life with ivan if they actually escaped.

i while love mutual love ivantill as much as the next guy, saying their feelings were 100% romantic is wrong. their emotions towards one another being so raw is something that defines them, which is why it’s difficult to put their mutual feelings into a specific box.

another thing we need to take into account is that neither of them know what love really is. they inhabit a world that isn’t MEANT for humans to love. they were never taught what love is and how to feel it. this is part of the reason they could never develop properly. they live in a world where the concept of romance and relationships aren’t properly established between humans.

but, i do believe like they could’ve had a chance under different circumstances. they were a slowburn that was never able to properly develop because, again, they lived in a world that didn’t allow them to, and they both ruined things for themselves. ivan had a huge tendency to self sabotage because of his severely low self esteem. he convinced himself that his feelings were shallow, and projected that onto till through his actions, confusing and distressing the latter. in addition, till was avoidant of the reality in front of him, ivan. due to till feeling such a lack of security with ivan, and never being able to understand ivan, he avoided intimacy with him altogether. till also just has a fear of intimacy in general. there was a significant amount of miscommunication between both parties.

in addition, saying that till didn’t love mizi is just. false. he dedicated all of his life to her, she was literally his muse. he loved her in his own way, even if he had to put her on a pedestal to do so. yes, he didn’t know anything about her as a person, but that doesn’t mean his feelings weren’t real. saying he never truly loved her undermines so much of his character.

mizi was till’s coping mechanism, yes. he adored her from a distance. he liked the idea of her and not her as an individual, but that doesn’t make his feelings any less real. he loved and cared for her. we saw how torn he was after mizi disappeared in round 5. he almost DIED because of his grief, before ivan ‘saved’ him. his feelings towards her were as authentic as they could be for someone who kept everyone at a distance.

while you could say till’s love for mizi isn’t inherently romantic, the same can be said for ivantill. nothing stated in the patreon confirmed what EXACTLY till felt towards mizi besides her being a fantastical figure to him. and his “love” towards ivan doesn’t HAVE to be romantic (even though i believe it is), it could very much be platonic. vivinos is purposefully vague with what kind of love each character feels because, as i said, feelings aren’t something that can be properly established in this universe.

hope u guys enjoyed my rant Yay 🌹

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Whumpee & His Collar part 2

Warnings: tight collar around Whumpee's neck, severely restricted breathing, mentions of beating and past torture & conditioning, panic attack and choking

The collar was tight around his neck, digging into his skin with every strained breath he took.

"Oh honey, I promised I wouldn't hurt you here, and I keep my promises," Caretaker tried to soothe. "Why don't you want the collar off?"

"What did I do wrong?" Whumpee choked out.

"What did you... do wrong?" Caretaker echoed, confused. "You did nothing wrong, Whumpee -- what gave you that impression?"

Whumpee pointed with a shaky finger to the collar around his neck. "Y-You were going to take it off, which means I did something horrific and need to be thoroughly punished for it." He couldn't understand why, but he saw Caretaker's eyes fill with sad tears.

"I... think I understand now. But you're not with Whumper anymore," Caretaker spoke softly. "New house, New rules, okay? You will never be hurt here. Not even with your collar off."

Whumpee found it hard to believe her words. His entire life revolved around this collar, it gave him a clear sense of direction and purpose. So that he would always know what to expect at any given time, depending on how tight it was strapped around his throat.

But Caretaker hadn't done anything with it in all the time since his rescue. So... maybe she was telling the truth...

Whumpee's chest was heaving with the effort to keep breathing by now, his mouth gaped open as he gasped and choked on sobs.

"Whumpee, please -- you're going to pass out if you keep it up. Please let me take it off. I promise I won't hurt you, and I will always love and care for you. Do you trust me?" Caretaker reached her hands out toward him, pausing a few inches away as though waiting for permission to make contact. Giving Whumpee a choice, to accept or deny her help.

Whumpee squeezed his eyes shut tight, terrified beyond belief, but forced himself to give a shallow nod. But he still reflexively flinched when he felt Caretaker's warm hands gently cup his face, a soothing and comforting presence.

"You're going to be okay, Whumpee, just breathe..."

Whumpee tried his absolute best to obey, he really did, to be good and perfect for her -- but it was just so difficult with the tight collar in place, his situation worsened by the panicked hyperventilating. He felt Caretaker's hands gently slide down from his jaw to his neck, carefully fiddling with the clasp keeping the collar on him.

The fear washed over him all over again, but he managed to hold still as Caretaker finally unbuckled the collar and took it off completely. Cold air hit the skin where the collar always rested for the first time in weeks, a sensation so unnatural and foreign to him.

Then there were strong arms around him, pulling him away from the wall he was curled up and cowering against and into a fierce hug.

“You're so brave, Whumpee, so so brave” Caretaker praised comfortingly, running a soothing hand through his hair in the way she knew he liked most.

Whumpee trembled like a fragile leaf in her arms with a whine, burying his face into her shoulder, and clinging to her desperately like a lifeline. It felt different to be able to properly breathe again, so strange after he'd gotten used to the calculated, measured breaths he'd take whenever the collar was on.

He gulped it down greedily, sucking in as much fresh air as he could with each deep breath. Caretaker was right, it felt so much better to have the torturous collar off.

“Y-You're not going to abandon me now that's it off, are you?” Whumpee asked quietly, his voice wobbly and uncertain.

“Never, Whumpee, never,” Caretaker answered firmly. There was no hesitation whatsoever in her tone, and Whumpee wanted to cry again – in gratitude this time instead of fear.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Caretaker,” Whumpee mumbled into her shoulder.

“Always,” Caretaker whispered into his ear. An eternal promise, one that she would forever keep.

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