#like marvel has a habit of doing sometimes

[twilightkitkat]

I feel like Logan is oftentimes written as a character who wants a large amount of distance and space in a relationship but I think that wouldn't really be the case. Obviously he can't be around anyone every waking hour of the day and he's his own person, but I'm convinced he'd be clingy once he got into a relationship. He knows to function on his own, he knows he can go through the motions but he just... doesn't want to.

One of the main arguments I see for him wanting a lot of space is that he has an eternity to live so he doesn't feel constrained on time when it comes to Wade, who's also immortal like him. And yes, that's true, but I raise you this: he's already had 200 years without him. He's had time to do all the things he wanted to (and didn't want to) do alone—he's traveled to different countries, explored his own origins and backstory, learned about different people and places. And sometimes he enjoyed it, even if most of the time he was desperate and angry and isolated from the world.

He already spent enough time being alone that he knows how it feels. He got it out of his system. He was forced to be alone for so long that he almost forgot what it was like to have a companion, let alone someone like Wade. Someone he genuinely connected to for the first time, who understood him and wanted him.

Logan knows what it's like to be alone. He lived through it almost every day of his hellish life in one way or another. He's tired of it, now. He had 200 fucking years to stew in his own company, 3 times longer than most humans even lived.

But this? The feeling of curling next to someone and feeling their warmth? Burrowing so close you can hear their heartbeat? Waking up next to Wade and seeing his bleary-eyed smile? Fighting next to him, trusting someone to watch his back? Waking up from a nightmare and being held and comforted by someone who understands him?

It's so much better than anything he could've imagined. Why would he ever go back to how things were before, when he knows what it feels like to be next to Wade and be loved just for existing? (How could he go back to being alone after finally tasting happiness?)

He'd want to savor it. To lean into the relationship hard and memorize all of Wade's little habits and routine and quirks. He'd be clingy, letting himself demand affection and attention because he knows he can get it. And he's been starved of it for so long.

He knows he could leave, if he wanted to. That he could go out on his own for a while, back out into the cold. But why would he voluntarily do that when he has a perfectly nice fireplace to keep himself warm? If he really wanted to go out to marvel at the snow, now he could bring someone with him and share that joy together. What could be better?

[natsukazesan]

Finally saw Black Panther 2 today. I loved it very much.

[themissinghand]

aahghh i'm happy that your requests r open :33 i want to ask for a Jinwoo x sleepy male/gn reader.. basically the reader falls asleep somewhere but always wake up in the most random places. Bellion has found them sleeping somewhere in the shadow realm more than once and no one knows how they got there. it's actually concerning-

this can either platonic or romantic idc rly

take care!

Solo Leveling: Sleepy Bois are Cute Too!

Summary: 3 times that Jinwoo caught his partner falling asleep on him, and the one time he didn’t. Not in any particular order.

In which Jinwoo is worried, but you reassure him every time. 

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo x sleepy GN! reader

Note: Last one for 2023! Will be back in the new year :) 

Warning: None. Just fluffy goodness. 

★・・・・・・★

Jinwoo is worried about your sleeping antics.

He’s worried that when you fall asleep, he will never find you again. 

He took all the precautions, making sure there was a shadow soldier by your side when you fall asleep, keeping a tracker on you (with your consent of course!), and even taking you on his missions to ensure you don’t disappear on him. 

“Jinwoo-ah, don’t worry, I can protect myself.” 

Sure, you were an A-class weapon maker, and yes, you knew how to use your weapons well, but no matter how much you reassure him, Jinwoo is a protective person by nature, knowing how dangerous the world can be. 

He also knows how dedicated you are to your craft, spending days on end without sleep or food to create S-class grade weapons for the world to marvel at. 

But it was only more of a reason for him to protect you from those greedy hunters and associations! 

Perhaps that was where your sleeping habits stem from, the lack of sleep.

It didn’t start off this way, as at the beginning of your relationship, Jinwoo found you cute for dozing off like a baby. 

It was during a movie night, where the two of you cuddled on the bed, and holding each others’ hands. You dozed off very shortly after the movie began, and Jinwoo couldn’t help but pull you closer into a hug. 

Loving your warmth and the peace you bring, Jinwoo easily fell asleep by your side. 

Only to wake up with you not by his side. 

In panic, he rushed around the shared home to find you, only to get a call from his sister, and see you at his mom’s house. Apparently, Jinah found you sleeping in Jinwoo’s old room.

“It happens sometimes…but don’t worry! I’m usually safe.” Your reassurance didn’t make Jinwoo feel any better about it. 

The next time, it was when the two of you were bathing together. 

Jinwoo hummed, satisfied and relaxed, as you washed his hair, scratched his head, and massaged his shoulders. Your voice was soothing, as you told him about your next weapon idea. 

Until suddenly, he felt a hard knock onto his back, making him turn around quickly to see you dozing off. 

He withheld a snicker before he switched your positions, and had you lay on him. 

“(Y/N), how could you sleep in the middle of doing something?” Jinwoo whispered, and although he gently rocked your body, he didn’t bother trying to wake you. 

Jinwoo made sure you were comfortable, and finished the bath, before carrying you like a princess to your shared bed. 

“Jinwoo?” Your slurred words made him smile, and he placed a kiss on your forehead. 

“Bedtime, your favourite time is here.” 

“Yay~” Your dopey smile made him happy as he covered the both of you with a blanket. Jinwoo snuggled close, and this time, made sure to hold you tight, so you wouldn’t disappear on him again. 

Your little snores, and light breathing lured him to sleep. 

The next day, you were gone. 

This time, he searched the home, and even checked with his mom and sister, but nothing. 

This time, he panicked, and immediately searched everywhere for you. 

Like a parent who lost their child, he searched far and wide, until he found you sleeping on top of the Korean Hunters Association’s building. He immediately hugged you close, waking you up from your drowsy state. 

“Jinwoo? What’s wrong?” You who have just woken up from your long sleep didn’t understand why Jinwoo was hugging you so desperately. You patted his back as you rested your head on his shoulder. 

“Are you okay? How did you even get up here?” 

“What are you talking about-” Finally registering your current location, you were shocked. 

“This isn’t our home.” 

When Jinwoo registered your confusion, then acceptance (almost too easily), he couldn’t help but feel helpless. If you didn’t know how you got here, and he didn’t sense your disappearance twice in a row, Jinwoo knew he had to be careful. 

This was when you and him talked of the dangers and of the precautions you should take to ensure your safety. 

One time, Jinwoo had a nightmare. 

Of the times where he was still an E-class hunter, where he was still weak, poor, and helpless. 

Of the times where he had nothing to his name, but only shame and disappointment. 

He felt powerless, feeling the shadow of a cold blade cutting into his flesh and warm blood spill from his body. 

“Jinwoo!” 

He woke up to you calling his name and wiping his face. 

“Jinwoo! Are you okay-” Jinwoo hugged you tightly, knocking the air out of your lungs for a moment, as he inhaled your scent. 

He then noticed you wearing his hoodie, clearly oversized for you, and your messy bed hair. 

Then he remembers you, who had taught him how to use different weapons, and how to not get scammed by weapon dealers. 

From then till now, you have supported him, and he has found your talent in return. 

“There there, my little king.” Jinwoo smiled as he felt little pats to his back, and kissed the crook of your neck. 

“Thank you, (Y/N).”

“Always.” 

The next time, when you disappeared, Jinwoo knew where you were immediately. 

He didn’t panic, nor did he fret, though this time, he really did question your abilities as an A-class weapon maker. 

Were you really an A-class hunter at this point?

Jinwoo observed, perplexed, as you once again emerged from an unexpected slumber, this time in the shadow realm. 

With a yawn, you flipped to the other side on the throne, and without any sense of danger, you curlled into a ball, and fell asleep again.

Jinwoo quickly went over to you on the throne, and picked you up, before sitting down and placing you in his lap. He made sure you were comfortable before he looked to Bellion for any explanation. 

“My Liege, I…have no excuses. I was unable to sense any changes in the shadow realm and was unable to find out how Their Highness was able to arrive here.” 

Bellion, equally puzzled, knelt before the two of you, ashamed. 

“Bellion, stand. It’s not your fault. Even I can't sense when they disappear. But keep others updated on the situation.” Bellion nodded, before standing and leaving you two space. 

"How does this keep happening?" Jinwoo asked, and sighed, concern etching onto his face. Even so, he caressed your cheek, and woke you from your slumber.

Like a cat, he saw you scrunch up your face, and even pushed his finger away, before popping open one eye.

“Jinwoo? Where am I now?” It became a habit of yours now to observe your surroundings every time you woke up. 

“In my realm, in my castle, and on my throne.” 

“Huh.” It took a moment for you to process.

“How did I get here?” 

“No idea. But I'd rather have you here than outside.” 

“Well. This is new.” You ruffled your messy bed hair, before a hand pulled your chin back to face Jinwoo. 

“You were sleeping on my throne…were you thinking of me?” Jinwoo’s hand slowly cradled your face as he stared at you with intent. 

“Maybe?” You cheekily answered, before replicating the same action back. However, you steal a quick little peck to the corner of his lips. 

In the next moment, his mouth lands on yours passionately, completely taking your breath away as he pulls you in further and further, until you’re completely at his mercy.

Pinned to his throne, wearing his oversized black silk pajamas, and puffy lips, you realize that maybe you should learn to control your sleep antics. 

[merakiui]

[01] 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝒾𝓇𝑒𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓉, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝑔𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓁 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁.

villain!azul ashengrotto x magical girl!reader note - welcome to this very impulsive magical girl parody! i'm not sure how many chapters it will be exactly, but i'm looking forward to writing more. i hope you'll enjoy reading! chapter navigation: [01] (you are here) // [02]

Magic is a messy, complex thing.

It can enchant and amaze with beautiful, endless possibilities. It can terrify with traumatic results. Like any sort of power in this world, it is a heavy responsibility for those who wield it. Everything has its dark side; you’re sure the same holds true for magic. No matter how marvelous it may be, surely there exists some shadow.

It’s also something you can’t use, and so the good and the bad don’t really apply to you!

Not that this is cause for envy. Rather, you’re relieved you don’t have to worry about experiencing the problems that accompany magic. You’ve got enough on your plate as it is; magic would only further complicate it. With no other plausible way to return to your world, you’ve had to make your home here on Sage’s Island. It’s an isolated place, boasting two elite magical universities and a bustling town.

It also happens to resemble a chicken wing on maps, so that’s a plus. Truly an ideal getaway! If only you weren’t trapped here indefinitely… Maybe then you’d have better appreciation for it.

As it happens, you’re a janitor living in the abandoned, decrepit dorm on the outskirts of campus. It took a month since you moved in, but you’ve managed to clean it up into a habitable space with the help of its resident haunts. The Headmage hasn’t been very helpful or present since your arrival, and so you’ve had to make do with what little you’ve been given. But for all of his troubling qualities, he isn’t inherently cruel. He’s kind enough to pay you for your services (but then that was only after you threatened him into an agreement), and he doesn’t overwork you (again, this is because you made it abundantly clear you won’t do anything if it violates your own sanity in some way, shape, or form). At least he’s willing to negotiate every time you argue for humane working conditions.

He’s an irksome guy. You can’t believe he has the gall to call himself the ‘embodiment of magnanimity’ when he’s done the bare minimum. Even the ghosts have offered more assistance and they don’t have any sort of authority here! You’re pleased to share a space with them. Sometimes they seem more reliable than the Headmage.

Despite your attempts to acclimate, the illustrious Night Raven College is still a place wholly unsuitable for a magicless human such as yourself. You’re the same age as some of the students here, but they feel like they’re on another level. Flying overhead on brooms, casting spells, mixing up potions… You listen in on some of their conversations while washing windows or sweeping the floors and wonder if all magic schools are this rigorous.

Maybe that’s any school regardless of its curriculum. Any sort of academic pursuit comes with difficulties; that’s normal. But magic is a facet unique to this world. There aren’t any arcane academies where you’re from, but now you wish there were. They seem so fascinating.

“Not much of my problem, though, is it?” you mumble, shaking free of that thought. Being a janitor is great. You can avoid the stress of school and keep up with the gossip exchanged in the halls. It’s like reading the newspaper, only it’s spoken instead of written.

Morning spills through the part in the curtains when you open them. You shut your eyes and bask in the warming glow of a sunshine smooch. It’s going to be another great day—you’re sure of this—and a day as pleasant as this deserves to be lived in its entirety. Perhaps you’ll have a picnic outside or you could even—

BAM.

Your eyes snap open just in time to view the raven who’s slammed itself against the window. Disoriented, it jerks itself up and away from the glass, flapping its wings wildly. You watch its attempts with a pitying frown. And then, inching closer to pull the window open to allow the raven respite, you see it: the blue flames racing towards you at a rapid speed.

With a yelp, you dive out of the way just in time. Due to the forceful blast, the window shatters in a spray of glass. Heat licks at your face, so hot it almost singes your brows, and you stumble to the other side of the room in a panicked daze.

“You lousy bird!” someone exclaims, the words pronounced in a growl. “Get back here so I can nab ya and prove that I’m worthy of bein’ at this school!”

The raven squawks, fluttering wildly about your room. A sleek, obsidian-colored feather floats into your hand. You don’t have time to admire it, for the curtains have just caught fire.

“Come on—I just put those up last week!” you bemoan, looking on in abject horror.

From the opening, a furry creature bursts through. He resembles a grey cat with his short, fluffy stature, but his tail is shaped strangely and there’s blue fire flickering from his ears. The same blue fire he’s currently conjuring in an attempt to catch the raven…

You grab hold of the coat rack—the nearest viable weapon you can think of—and jump in front of him. He startles and leaps back when you swing.

“What’re you doing?! You can’t do that in here! Fuck—my curtains! Don’t light anything else on fire!”

Baffled, the cat-creature scoffs at you. “How was I supposed to know someone’s livin’ in here? Not my fault!”

“It’s a residence! Of course someone lives here! I live here!”

“When they make me the Great Mage Grim, I’ll fix this place up for ya. That’s a promise! I just gotta catch that bird and prove myself a worthy candidate. Just you wait—they’ll be puttin’ my name up in lights!”

“Like hell they will!”

With a devastated groan, you whack the curtains down with the coat rack. They land in a heap, smoke curling from beneath the pile and sliding out the shattered window in dark, wispy tendrils. It takes a frazzled few stomps and smacks before the fire fizzles away, leaving you with charred curtains and the distinct stench of something scorched.

Still panting from the adrenaline rush, you loosen your grip on the coat rack. This is a mess. What am I going to do? I don’t have enough money to fix this!

You turn your hateful scowl on the cat-creature. “You!”

“W-Wait! Wait!” He raises a paw to his lips and gestures towards your bedside table. The raven sits perched, a golden chain wrapped around its neck and an envelope clasped in its beak. In all of the chaos, you must have missed that. “Don’t say a word. It’s right there.”

He approaches stealthily, slow as a sloth, and pounces. He misses narrowly, ending up with a mouthful of feathers instead. The raven caws and takes flight, circling overhead.

He spits feathers. “Myahaha! I got it! I actually—oh. Dumb bird… No one can escape the Great Grim.”

The raven lands on your shoulder next. It cocks its head at you.

“What? Is this for me?” you ask, even though you’re certain of the answer. You pluck the envelope from the raven, who sets to preening itself now that it’s no longer occupied.

“Give it here!” The cat-creature hops up onto your bed, reaching with an expectant paw. “That bird’s got my admission letter!”

“Your letter?” You hold it out of reach and stick your tongue out at him. “No ‘great mage’ sets someone’s home on fire. You’re a subpar mage, if anything.”

“I am not! You just wait—I’ll show you!”

“I don’t want to see anymore.” Turning away, you break the wax seal and procure the parchment waiting within.

He swipes at you impatiently. “Lemme see! What’s it say?”

Written in elegant script, complete with a stamp you’ve never seen before, it looks very official. Whoever wrote it is exceptionally good at cursive, their letters swooping together seamlessly. It’s almost like a decorative artwork with its double-looped O’s and dancing cursive. You marvel at the craftsmanship, wishing your handwriting could look as refined as this person’s.

To whom it may concern,  Greetings and congratulations on your admittance into the program! We recognize your outstanding achievements as a model student and believe you have what it takes to do wonderful things. It is with great pride that we bestow upon you a piece of magical history, referred to as The Tried-and-True Trident. You will find it enclosed in this letter.

You look up from the letter just as an aureate necklace lands in your palm. The raven blinks at you once before lifting itself off of your shoulder with a flap of its inky wings. It departs through the window, up into the cloudless, cerulean sky, in a flurry of feathers. There’s a tiny trident pendant hanging from the chain. It winks at you in the light, so shiny you think you might catch your reflection if you stare long enough. You’re not sure what part of it is tried or true, for it looks more like costume jewelry than anything. At least it’s cute. Kind of fashionable, even.

With this historic piece, you are now free to wield the wonders of the sea as you please. You are expected to use these powers to defend those you hold dear from the threat of tragedy. You should have met with your mentor already. If not, we shall send someone to escort you. We look forward to beholding your excellent heroics. Sincerely,

“Gimme that!”

Grim snatches the letter before you can glimpse the name signed at the bottom. The enchanted letter tears in two and then, before both of your eyes, it promptly disintegrates.

You eye the fuzzball with a fresh bout of vitriol. “What did you say your name was again?”

“It’s Grim—the Great Grim—and I promise ya as soon as I—”

“Good. Now I know what name to carve on your tombstone when I put you in the ground for ruining my letter!” You reach for the coat rack, expression ablaze with newfound ferocity.

Grim yelps and scurries away. “H-Hold on! I can fix it!”

“How? It’s ash!”

��Well, what did it say? I’m sure I can explain it to ya!”

“It said something about this necklace. The something-something trident. Protecting loved ones from tragedy. Admittance into some program. A mentor…”

“Mentor… Mentor! Yeah, that sounds about right!” Grim laughs proudly. “Aren’t you in luck, human! I’m gonna be your mentor.”

“Sure you are.” You rest your hand on your hip, brows raised. “The same cat who destroyed my window and curtains is gonna mentor me in whatever this is. Funny story.”

His jaw drops. “A-At least pretend like it’s cool! And I’m not a cat!” He hops off of your bed with a huff. “Ungrateful human. You’re undeserving of the Great Grim’s teaching anyways! I don’t need you!”

“Other way around.”

“You don’t need me!”

“There we go.” You applaud him sardonically. “Look, I don’t know what any of this is. I’m sure it was a mistake. I’m not even a student here.”

Grim, who had been on his way towards the door, halts. He turns to face you slowly. “Yer…not a student?”

“I work here. There’s no way for me to be enrolled here because I can’t use magic.”

“W-Wha—can’t use magic?! Then why did you get in, but I didn’t?!”

You can only shrug. The necklace twists idly when you hold it up for closer inspection. “So this thing is supposed to help me? Hey, Grim, do you know what this is?”

You lower to his height and hold your hand out. He watches you dubiously before approaching and leaning in to sniff at the chain.

“Smells fine to me. Kinda like wet metal.”

“I didn’t ask for a flavor profile.” You heave a tired sigh. The day’s only just begun and you’re already swamped with nonsense. “Maybe that Headmage knows something.”

Grim gasps. “You’re chummy with the Headmage? You think you could talk him into lettin’ me join?”

“Why do you even want in so badly?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m a renowned mage! They should be begging me to join!”

Anyone could’ve sent that letter. It might not even be from the Headmage… If I knew the sender’s name, I could just track them down and ask them. 

“You said you wanted to prove yourself, didn’t you?” You offer your hand again, this time to shake on it. “Become my mentor. That’ll show that Crowley you’re plenty capable. Then you can get into this school and I can find a way to return this necklace to its rightful owner.”

Grim folds his arms over his chest, avoiding your hand like it’s the plague. “And what’s in it for me? My services aren’t cheap, y’know!”

“You can live here with me. I’ll find ways to sneak you into the lecture halls if you wanna sit in and observe the class.”

“How about food?”

“Food is…” Nonexistent, really. That cheapskate Crowley! I’ve got to talk him into raising my pay. “I get paid at the end of this week. We’ll have to survive off of what’s in the fridge and the lunch I’m allowed to get from the cafeteria for now.”

Grim’s features soften. “Hm… I guess it’s not terrible. Could be better. But all great mages start from humble beginnings—including myself, but you’d never be able to guess!”

“Right…”

With how carelessly you tossed that fire around, you’re the last mage I should be partnering with.

“Do we have a deal, Grim? You’ll be my mentor and I’ll help you wherever I can.”

Grim places his paw in your palm, his chest puffed out. “You’d better start callin’ me Teacher!”

A smile strains on your lips. “Not happening.”

With a firm shake, your pact is made.

“So what spells do you know? Any that might be able to fix up a window and some curtains?”

“You don’t need those lame spells! The Great Grim can do plenty of other amazing feats.”

“Like?”

“Very amazing feats. Didn’t you hear me?”

“You don’t know anything, do you?”

Grim flinches, guilt flashing across his countenance.

“Is blue fire all you can summon?”

“I… I can do much more! This is just a fraction of my true power! If I had a magestone, this whole spell business would be a lot easier.”

“A magestone? Ah, those things the students have on their pens? I guess that would be helpful. Where can we get one, though?”

“I’d tell ya if I knew.”

“The library might know. If we head there now, we can spend the rest of the morning researching and then we can get lunch.” You reach to fasten the chain around your neck. It’s tucked under your shirt next, safe and sound. “Wait outside for a minute. I’ll change out of my pajamas, clean up the window, and then we’ll be on our way.”

Grim trots out the door without resistance. “I’ll grab a snack from the fridge while yer doin’ all that stuff.”

“One snack! Don’t eat everything!”

But he’s already bounding away, singing as he goes: “Free eats can’t be beat!” Sighing, you shut the door and turn to assess the state of your bedroom. It could be worse. Your bed could have been damaged, or you could have sustained quite the nasty burn.

One mess at a time.

You change into your uniform, which is really just a PE jumpsuit. The same one the students wear. This one has seen better days and it’s a size too big on you, but it’s all Crowley claimed to have on hand when you asked about work clothes. Once again, you soothe yourself with your favorite adage: It could be worse.

You could be homeless. You could be starving. You could be dead.

So it’s not so bad to wear the spare. It’s still got the dorm patch and class numbers sewn onto it, albeit both have worn considerably. Your eyes are drawn to them as you admire yourself in the mirror. Octavinelle Dorm… You’ve heard there are seven dormitories at this school, each based on a historical figure and representing the various spirits of these people. The sorting at the entrance ceremony was something special for the incoming first-years. You’d felt a little awkward to disturb such a grand occasion, even more so when the Dark Mirror announced to a hall full of talented mages that there isn’t an iota of magic in you.

Quite the humbling experience.

But sometimes you wonder which dorm the Dark Mirror would have chosen if your soul was bursting with magical capability.

As of now you’re a faux member of Octavinelle—whatever that implies.

By the time you’ve managed to sweep the glass, dispose of the ruined curtains, and patch the window with a temporary placeholder—what a relief for pasteboard and masking tape—Grim’s nearly through the few items left in your fridge. You yank him away just as he reaches for a container of leftovers.

“If you eat too much, you’ll spoil your lunch.”

“Can’t imagine that problem.”

“You sound so proud of your bottomless stomach.”

“And you’re not?”

You roll your eyes and tug your sneakers on. “Let’s be off.”

“How’re we gonna sneak me in?”

“How do you feel about becoming my temporary purse pet?”

Grim looks unimpressed when you hold your tote bag open for him. “No way!”

“It has lots of space and it’s stylish. Besides, shouldn’t your dedicated student pay proper respect to her great, glorious mentor?”

He doesn’t bother hiding his approving smirk. “Well, when ya put it like that…”

After Grim clambers into your bag, you lock the front door behind you and set off for campus.

“Please don’t blow our cover, Grim.”

From within the depths of your tote, he scoffs. “The Great Grim is the stealthiest mage you’ll ever meet!”

“I highly doubt that.”

It’s the second time you’ve found yourself in the library, but it’s still just as impressive as ever. You could spend hours here, wandering between shelves and skimming all sorts of tomes. Some of them are written in languages you can’t decipher, so you observe the pictures provided in hopes of gleaning any clues. Grim lounges on a chair beside you, absentmindedly turning through a thick textbook. You managed to find a relatively isolated corner in the very back and it’s not especially busy today. The promise of a hearty lunch keeps him well-behaved.

“Find anything?”

“Nothin’ important. Ugh. This stuff is the worst! Why can’t a magestone fall from the sky? That’d be a whole lot easier than this.”

“It sucks, yeah, but what else can we do?” You rest your face against your palm and scan through yet another page of information. “Let’s keep looking. I’m sure we’ll find something useful.”

“Nngh… I’m hungry.”

“You just ate.”

“That was hours ago!”

“Has it really been that long?”

“Feels like it.”

You lean back in your chair and stretch, listening to the satisfying snap of your joints as they crack into place. “Can you understand any of these words?”

“Most of ’em.”

You point to a specific place in the paragraph. “Can you tell me what this one means? I think I’ve got the general idea based on the graphics, but I could be wrong.”

Grim glances at it, his blue hues waltzing across the page. “It’s about merfolk.”

“Merfolk? They exist in this world?” And then you pause to gather your delayed thoughts. “Never mind. That would make sense.”

“What about ’em?”

“Where I’m from, merfolk aren’t real. They’re fiction.”

“Huh. A place without any merfolk… Bet they don’t have anyone like me either. I’m one of a kind!” Grim chuckles. “So where’re you from?”

You open your mouth to respond, but the sound of approaching footsteps interrupts. You usher Grim under the table, who goes but not without protest. He ducks under just in time, hiding within the shadows. A student rounds the corner and stops short when he sees you. He’s holding a few books in his arms, each looking more heavy than the last.

“Ah,” the both of you say in unison.

He clears his throat and offers you a cordial nod. “I wasn’t aware someone had already claimed this corner.”

You eye him carefully. He looks familiar. Glasses. Silvery-grey hair. Blue eyes. Where have you seen him before?

“It’s all yours. I was just leaving.” You move to stand, but he steps closer.

He peers at the open textbook lying in front of you. A smile you can’t quite classify as friendly spreads on his lips. “Is that so? You seem especially engrossed in this book.”

“I like to stay educated.”

I genuinely can’t understand a word in this text.

“On the anatomy of merfolk?”

You shut your mouth at once. That’s what this is? No wonder the diagrams looked…unique. But you’re too committed to your story to falter now.

“Especially the anatomy of merfolk.”

The student chuckles, but it sounds hollow to your ears. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you before. You’re in Octavinelle?”

You gape at him like a fish out of water before realizing the jumpsuit and its patch. “Oh! Ohhh, no, not at all. This is an old uniform.”

He looks at you with more scrutiny until it clicks. “I remember now. You’re the magicless girl who so carelessly interrupted—ah, forgive me—fortuitously appeared during the entrance ceremony last month.”

What a little fake. You narrow your eyes at him, suddenly defensive. Now you’re made aware of who he is. He was one of the few in the audience during your awkward arrival. Back then, he was clad in a robe with his hood up and so you only caught sight of his glasses and the swoop of his silvery-grey hair peeking out. You’re certain this is the same guy. You could’ve said that without the backhanded barb.

“So my reputation precedes me.”

He smiles and shakes his head. “I disagree. You’re still quite the mystery.”

“Well, there’s nothing to solve.” You rise from your seat, reaching for your bag. “I’m just a janitor trying to get by.”

He hums. You can’t decipher the meaning in that, but you don’t particularly care enough to drive yourself mad over it. You feel around on the chair for Grim. He was just here a moment ago…

You drop to your knees to check under the table. Your heart plummets into your stomach.

Grim, you had one job!

“Is something the matter?”

You pop up from beneath the table so fast that your head knocks into it. “Shit! Ow! Yeah, no, I’m fine. I thought I dropped my pencil.”

You scan the rest of the space as discreetly as you can. The student watches you. You don’t like the way he seems to stare through you as if intending to gain access to your very soul. As if he sees something you don’t.

“Have a wonderful day. Study hard. Pass your tests. Get—uh—the scholarship or whatever.” 

Flashing him your most nonchalant grin, you make your way down the aisle at a pace that is the exact opposite of relaxed. There’s no time to dwell on that off-kilter exchange. You’ve got a runaway cat-creature in dire need of capture!

The one day I take off and it’s the day my window’s ruined, I get a weird letter, and my new roommate is missing. That’s horrible luck!

You walk briskly through the library, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. Grim couldn’t have gotten far. You were only distracted for a few minutes, and the library is huge. Perhaps he’s just lost and waiting in place for you to find him. For some reason you can’t fool yourself into believing this train of thought.

Your search takes you out of the library and down the hall. Where could he have possibly gone? Surely he didn’t make his way back to Ramshackle. You check the time on your watch. It’s almost lunch.

Lunch! Of course!

You hurry towards the cafeteria with rekindled purpose.

I’m going to start calling him Gluttonous Mage Grim if he makes this a habit!

Fortunately, Grim is predictable. You’ve only known him for a day—not even—but it’s not so difficult to pinpoint his location after you’ve worked out his motivations. Unfortunately, you make it to the cafeteria just as the grand chandelier falls from its support in the ceiling, crash-landing in a broken heap. And standing just feet away from the damage, looking very guilty, is Grim alongside two students you’ve never seen before. Crowley’s there as well, just as frazzled as the feathers on his coat. He’s in the middle of lecturing them about the importance of this relic—how it’s been with the school since it was founded and it’s an irreplaceable piece that would cost over a billion Madol to fix—when he takes notice of you.

“(Name), it’s devastating! A most heart-wrenching tragedy! Why, it’s enough to bring one to tears.”

“Seems so…” You shoot Grim a vicious look. So much for being covert. Not so stealthy now, huh? “I’ll get the broom.”

“No, not yet. These three—” he turns towards them, yellow eyes fierce— “are expelled!”

“Expelled?!” the navy-haired student exclaims. He looks like he’s just stared Death in the face. “This can’t be… What will my mother think? I promised her I was gonna get good grades, attend all of my classes, pass my tests…”

“Hey, it’s not my fault. That hairball’s the one who started it!” the other argues, his arms folded over his chest.

“No way! It wasn’t me!”

Crowley clicks his tongue. “Unbelievable. This school has zero tolerance for blatant tomfoolery. Surely you’re all aware…” He pauses to look at Grim. “And you! You’re not even a student here! Just what are you doing, trespassing on school property?”

Grim flounders dizzily. “Spinning…”

“He’s my roommate.” All eyes flick towards you. “I’m letting him stay for now. Sorry if that breaks any rules. I just don’t believe in turning others away, even if they’re prone to causing trouble.”

“What a noble soul,” Crowley murmurs, impressed. “Well, if that’s the case, seeing as he’s nothing more than a talking pet cat—”

“I ain’t a pet or a cat!”

“I’m afraid my previous statement still remains in place. He’s not to be on school grounds.”

“You heard the Headmage. No school for you.”

But Grim’s already lying flat on the floor like a defeated pancake.

“Then what about us? That hairball can’t get the easy way out and leave us with the worst of it!”

“There’s a way to fix this, isn’t there?”

“Y-Yeah! Can’t you just use magic to fix it right up? It’ll be good as new. Someone with your skill should be able to do it.”

Crowley shakes his head, mournful. “Magic is not limitless. Not only that, but the magestone powering this great chandelier is cracked. And those are not so easily replaced. I fear this is the final day this miraculous chandelier will ever grace this grand hall with its light.”

The ginger-haired student grimaces. “Not good…”

The other withers. “Expelled… What am I going to do? I can’t go back home with this news!”

A magestone… That’s what Grim needs. You glance at the one set into the chandelier. A ghastly crack runs up the surface. Are they really that special?

Before both can succumb to their melancholy, Crowley says, “There is one way! Possibly…”

“Really? What is it?” they say at once, eyes bulging with hope.

“This very magestone was mined from the Dwarfs’ Mine. Perhaps, should you procure one of similar qualities, the chandelier can be repaired.”

“Then… Okay! I’ll get a magestone! As long as it’s all right with you, sir.”

“Ah, but the mines have been closed for some time. I reckon the magestones are all but gone.”

“I’m sure I can find one. Please, sir, I’ll do anything to stay here!”

Crowley seems to consider this. Eventually, he nods his approval. “I’m willing to postpone your expulsion for now.” The navy-haired student’s relief is short-lived when he adds, “However, if you fail to bring a magestone to me by the first rays of the morning sun, it will be expulsion for the both of you. No further exceptions.”

With a hasty nod, he says, “Of course! I understand! Thank you so much for the second chance. I won’t let you down!”

“Yeah, sure. Let’s get this over with.”

You gather an unconscious Grim in your arms while Crowley instructs the students on how to access the mine. They stride off with different degrees of enthusiasm. You open your mouth to ask permission, but Crowley beats you to it.

“Please do accompany them. I trust you’re responsible enough to handle any trouble?”

“If you raise my pay, I’ll do anything.”

He clutches his chest. “Your proclivity to bargain strikes through to my very soul! Ah, but since I am the kindest Headmage I shall grant your request.”

With a satisfied grin, you hold Grim tighter and run off after the pair. “Thanks again, Headmage!”

You follow them all the way to the Mirror Chamber. It’s just as imposing as you recall, but there’s a serene quality to the space that wasn’t there before. Maybe it’s because you’re here willingly and there isn’t an audience to witness your poorly timed debut.

You approach both of them. “Hey! Sorry to bother, but could I join you?”

They turn to look at you. Grim shifts in your arms, groaning.

“I don’t see why not. Welcome to the team,” the navy-haired student says with an awkward smile.

“Might as well. More people means a faster chance at finding that magestone.” He points at Grim next. “And he better be coming, too.”

“That’s the plan. I’ll make sure he won’t cause any problems for you.”

He sighs and shakes his head. “Today’s just not my day. What bad luck…”

“No time to sulk. We’ve gotta get that magestone,” the other says, turning towards the mirror. “Dark Mirror, the Dwarfs’ Mine!”

Grim jerks awake then. “Myaah?! Where am I? What’s goin’ on?”

You hold onto him tightly, preventing him from squirming out of your arms. “Relax. You’ll be fine. I think.”

“What d’ya mean by that?!”

The Dark Mirror brightens with life. There’s a blinding flash of light and then, just like that, you’re taken to the mine’s entrance.

Magestone, here we come!

[artytaeh]

Is it just me or are Theo and Patrick Verona from 10 things I hate about you lowkey similar. Especially with how patrick has all those rumors and he seems intimidating but is really a nice guy. Idk I just feel like they’re similar!

Also I absolutely adore your writing and your take on Theo, it’s exactly how I imagine him! <33

10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU MENTIONED?! god i love that movie, tysm anon, you just decided what i'm watching today. ✋

and honestly that's so sweet </3 i feel like theodore has this resting bitch face, sarcastic demeanor (i've said it once, and i'll say it before: raises an eyebrow. at. everything.) and his friendgroup aren't exactly helpful to make him seem like the most approachable person.

( like seriously, he's in draco's friendgroup— you'd assume that he's a hardcore bully. best friends with mattheo riddle, joining fistfights to help him. and the green tie only seals the deal, unfortunately. )

then you become close to him and you find out how silly theodore nott can be.

this man is NERDY, your honor! theodore would marvel at a real bookstore / library, all pretty and comfortable, for him to spend an afternoon browsing through the many titles and authors' works!

like if you get theodore talking about his favorite books, good fucking luck. theo rarely has anyone to discuss them with, and sincerely, if he has a certain opinion about a character, it won't change.

'no one gets them like i do. 🤓☝️' type of shit. can be the biggest hater and biggest defender of other characters too, nevermind how little or how damaging their actions were.

besides, the italian stereotype is real. theodore doesn't shut up during some meals at hogwarts— god forbid someone tries to make an italian recipe at the castle. if pasta is involved, then theo might even complain about how it's not even cooked properly.

( everytime theodore complains and rambles about how italy is superior in terms of food, hell, even coffee, the other four slytherins raise their hands and shake them like this: 🤌🏻 to tease him. )

and like you said, he's actually a nice guy. i feel like theodore, despite his concerning friendships, and few bad habits, is a pretty nice guy. theo is more of an introvert, and someone that if possible, would like peace.

as in, not getting into unnecessary bullshit. unlike draco, and mattheo sometimes, even lorenzo every now and then, theodore will rarely start shit with someone.

and tysm ?! i melt like butter in a pan everytime people say that my writing and take on slytherin boys feels so in character. 🫶 i'm so glad you think the same! tysm for reading my blog and interacting with me, lovely! ♡

[poisonous-honey]

Nahida’s Precious Tailor

The little lord of Sumeru calls upon your aid as she wishes for a wardrobe change.

Who’s Here: Reader/Player, Nahida, Wanderer, Kaveh, and Alhaitham makes a short appearance

Contains: Cursing, SAGAU (Self Aware Genshin Alternate Universe), Artist/Tailor Reader, Reader isn’t explicitly shipped with anyone so you can make do however you wish

Note: Inspired by @sunnysolaria. Not their exact ask, I just had fun making this (～￣▽￣)～ (i.e. this basically word vomit)

====

Time ticks by as you and Nahida sit in the middle of the Sanctuary of Surasthana. You can vaguely hear the sounds of children singing softly in the background which makes it a bit more eerie to be here, but you push it away to try and focus on the task asked of you. Nahida looks on in wonder as you continue to ponder, not noticing you’ve started to mumble out loud. 

“I knew you liked to waste your own time, but I thought you’d at least be decent enough to spare others from your terrible habits.”

Hearing Wanderer you’re snapped out of your thoughts and turn your eyes away from Nahida to see him arrive. Your mind, still a jumbled mess, can barely recall what he said to make a proper retort. You assume he insulted you so you open your mouth hoping to say any form of comeback.

“Sup.” 

Of course, you didn’t. 

Nahida quickly spreads her arms wide taking Wanderer’s scrutinizing eyes off your form, allowing you to collect your thoughts better.

“I’ve asked them to be my tailor! They’re helping me think of outfit designs! Some of the ones they’ve already thought of have been fascinating!”

You blank for a sec upon hearing that. You’re happy she liked some of the designs you thought of, but you forgot she could read your mind at all. Trying to shake the thought that she could read your mind whenever she pleases, you turn to Wanderer to shoo him away.

“Yeah I’m actually here for important business, so if you could skedaddle somewhere else for a bit that’d be great.”

He ignores you and keeps his attention focused on Nahida, which has you silently cursing under your breath.

“Why do you even need new clothes? Let alone asking the Player to design and make them for you. Their sense of fashion is atrocious.”

You gasp and put your hand to your chest. You’re about to tell him your clothes were for sure more comfortable than anything he could be wearing, but Nahida cuts you off.

“Before the Player landed in Teyvat, they would sometimes bring up pictures of everyone with different clothes. Some people looked completely different from how they are now.”

Your brow raises as you cock your head. You didn’t think they could see anything outside the game when you were playing. They were too good at hiding everything they were able to do to your device. Or maybe it was just Nahida, that would be better for your peace of mind.

“Oh, so you saw your beta designs? Is that why you asked me specifically?”

Nahida nods her head, “Partly. It’s why I wanted to try something different, but I haven’t actually seen my own alternative designs. I can’t say I’m not still curious to see them.”

Your eyes brighten just a little. “I can still show you if you want me too! It’s all saved to a photo album on my phone. I’d just have to find it.”

She leans in closer to you with curiosity and marvel on her face. You take that as a yes and take-out your phone to start looking for it. During the time it takes you to find the set of pictures Wanderer ends up sitting next to you and staring at all the pictures you pass by. As soon as you find Nahida’s beta designs and hand her your phone, Wanderer starts to come at you.

“Wow, someone’s obsessed.”

Your head whips to his direction, and you look at him with a mix of disdain and embarrassment. The sadistic pleasure is very visible on his face as he continues.

“Over 2000 pictures dedicated to us? And a lot of them seem to be of the same person. I wonder what they’d think if they knew you had sections dedicated to them in your photo gallery.”

Shame shimmers underneath your skin the more he talks. You’re glad he only saw the folder number. You stopped organizing your pictures in folders a long time ago so you can’t imagine how much you have now. If he knew the actual number you’d probably die on the spot. Even so, you don’t want to take shit from this fucking edgelord.

“Oh shut the fuck up! I didn’t know any of you were even real at the time I just liked the game okay.”

He arches his brow and rests his head on his hand, still carrying that shit-eating grin, “The fact you thought we weren’t even sentient just makes this more pathetic.”

Wanderer soon brings up the pictures he saw of himself on your phone which has you combusting on the spot. Nahida continues to stare at her beta designs, ignoring the “argument” going on between you two. She examines them for a bit longer before tapping your shoulder to get your attention and holds out your phone for you to take back.

You quickly take it and hide the source of your shame, giving Wanderer the middle finger while you're at it. You focus as much on Nahida as you can, with him laughing in the background. 

“Did you like any of them?”

Nahida stares at you intently for a moment before saying anything. “Player, would you have preferred it if I looked like one of these designs?”

You’re stunned for a sec before panic quickly sets in. Of course, she was probably reading your mind to see what you thought of them. You thought they were all pretty interesting, but you didn’t want her thinking you thought they were superior. You vaguely hear Wanderer tease you for managing to upset such a forgiving god and Nahida saying that she wasn’t upset, just asking, but it’s in one ear and out the other amidst your frantic state.

“Oh! No, no, no, no, no, no Nahida you got the wrong idea!” You take your phone back out before gesturing to the whole page of beta designs. “Yeah I think these designs are cool, some more than others but that’s beside the point! I like you Nahida even if your dress looks like a shuttlecock-”

“What are you even saying-”

“Stop focusing on the unimportant Wanderer.”

He scoffs at you and rolls his eyes.

“But you’re you. For a lot of these I think they had a different vision of you in mind when drawing these.”

Nahida puts her hands on yours and only then did you realize how much you were fidgeting. She smiles warmly at you, “There’s no need to be so nervous. I was just asking!”

You deflate in relief, “Thank goodness. I guess back to my last question then… Did you like any of them? If you thought one of them was pretty good I could make that for you?”

She thinks on it for a moment and ultimately shakes her head, “I did like a couple, but I’d rather you make me something new! There’s a reason these weren’t chosen, and you said it yourself they don’t make you think of me. I know you put your heart into the clothes you make, so a design made by you, for me, is perfect.”

You smile at her. Her faith in you to make something good for her fills you with pride.

“I’ll do my best for you.”

Out of the corner of your eye you notice Wanderer opening his mouth, probably to talk more shit, so before he can say anything you make a show of stretching and square him straight in his face. He roughly grabs your hand and pushes it away from him, staring at you with the fiercest scowl you’ve seen from him. You merely smirk in his direction.

“Oh I’m so sorry, I forgot you were there. I was just trying to stretch, no hard feelings yeah?”

You put your phone away again and get up to leave, waving goodbye to Nahida and ignoring Wanderer’s pointed gaze as you walk towards the door. Nahida cheerfully waves back and Wanderer silently seethes in his place. 

⭐⭐⭐⭐

On your way down to the ground floor of the city you continue to brainstorm multiple ideas to potentially make for Nahida. Dresses, regal robes, bejewelled shirts, and big pants. Should you try to lean into her godhood? Maybe go for a nature theme or add more computer-Esq patterns into the design. Should you give the poor girl shoes? You’re so deep in thought you don’t realize how close you had gotten to the edge of the pathway. A stray tree branch catches your foot, and you trip, snapping out of your mind to see houses and merchant stalls.

Luckily before you could plummet onto some poor person’s roof you’re caught by your arm and roughly pulled away from the ledge and into someone’s chest. You both fall to the ground and a small group of students that witnessed your mishap crowded around you.

“Oh my Archons, are you two okay?” “Do you need any help?” “Can we get you anything?”

“I’m fine thank you, but Player, are you okay?”

“Kaveh!?”

You get up and turn around to see it was indeed Kaveh that had saved you from cracking your head open on one of the rooftops below. He’s helped up by one of the others, and he stares at you intently.

“Yes it’s me, but seriously are you okay?”

You hear some of the others murmuring questions, mostly asking if you’re okay. “Yeah I’m fine. Thank you, really.”

You, of course, take this moment to hug him which Kaveh immediately reciprocates. “Gods you need to be more careful. You nearly scared me half to death.”

He peels himself away from you when he notices the others are still worried about you. The few students around ask if you’re sure you’re okay and fawn over you a little before leaving you in Kaveh’s care. As you’re waving bye you feel Kaveh’s hand rest on your shoulder which has you turn to look at him, his gaze still filled with concern.

“Are you sure you-”

“Yes Kaveh. You saved me, I’m fine.”

You grab his hand and hold it in front of you. It looked like he wanted to say a lot more, but he eventually settled and gazed at you softly, tightening his grip on your hand just a bit. “I’m glad. So what’s weighing so heavily on your mind that you can’t look up to notice your surroundings?”

You fidget under his stare for a second, not being able to remember until you see Wanderer flying off somewhere in the distance. It feels like you were hit with a brick as you remember the important task that was given to you. As you turn back to Kaveh to explain, you stop to look at what he’s wearing. It’s his normal outfit, but taking it all in you realize you don’t know what makes Sumeru wear… Sumeru wear. You’re pulled into your thoughts again and about to walk off before Kaveh pulls you back a little, clearly confused.

“Hold on, where are you going??”

Oh yeah, you had forgotten he asked you a question. “Nahida asked me if I could design new clothes for her. I was thinking of ideas earlier, but now I see all of them were lacking. None of them really looked like Sumeru clothes so now I need to do research since,” You look over Kaveh’s outfit again and take a glance at the people around you, “I don’t even know where to start.”

His brows furrow, and his hand moves to his chin. You want to chuckle seeing him do the thinking idle animation, but you don’t want him to start overthinking his existence again over something so trivial. Suddenly, Kaveh grabs you by your shoulders and his face ends up really close to yours.

“I can help you! If you want me to, that is.”

You stare at Kaveh in slight surprise. You guess you should've known he’d want to help with your artistic endeavours.

“You know how to make clothes?”

He falters a bit, but is still as enthusiastic as before, “Well no, but I do know a thing or two about style. I learned more than just how to make a building during my time at the Academia you know.”

He playfully pokes your forehead, and you swat his hand away with a smile. “Yeah I wasn’t thinking. I’d definitely appreciate your help.”

“Perfect! We can start by heading to the Grand Bazaar. Oh, but first I have to drop off my materials. I was on my way to do that before I had to drop everything to keep you from falling.”

You look past him to see a ton of blueprints and rulers and a ton of other materials. Making your way over you start to pick everything up for him, Kaveh soon following suit. You hear him mumbling, hoping nothing broke in his rush. Guilt creeps up your spine seeing him fret over every item he picks up.

“... Sorry.”

His head snaps to your direction hearing you apologize and quickly tries to calm any guilt you currently feel. “Please it’s okay, besides it doesn’t seem like anything’s broken. If you still want to make it up to me then try taking better care of yourself.”

You huff and continue to help him collect his things off the floor. “That’s a tall ask, but I’ll try for you.”

“You better.”

You finish gathering all of Kaveh’s materials and help him carry them on the way to Alhaitham’s despite all his protests saying he could do it himself.

⭐⭐⭐⭐

“What are you doing here??”

“This is my house, or did you forget?”

You honestly weren’t expecting to see Alhaitham today. You were pretty sure you caught sight of him in the Academia on your way to the Sanctuary or Surasthana so you assumed he was working. Judging by Kaveh’s reaction, you guess that’s what he was supposed to be doing.

Kaveh scoffs, “Never mind. Player, can you hand me the rest of my things? You can wait here while I put them all away.”

Kaveh carefully brings his materials over to his room, and you decide to sit next to Alhaitham as you wait for him to put them away. He’s currently reading something you have no hope of ever understanding. You’re content to sit here in silence as you wait not wanting to bother him, when he starts talking, not even taking his eyes off the book he’s reading.

“You nearly had quite the fall earlier. You’re quite lucky Kaveh was able to catch you in time.”

It takes you a bit to register what he was referring to, but when it settles you gawk at him, barely believing what he’s insinuating.

“Wait, so you saw me nearly fall to my death, and didn’t even bother to check up on me??”

He closes his book with a snap and turns to look at you. Moments like this make you wish you were able to read him, his passive face making it near impossible to tell what he was thinking. You watch as he reaches for something behind him and pulls out a small heart-shaped gold and green box with a soft glow. He hands it to you without saying a word.

You take it and inspect it for a while, not being able to figure out what it is. You don’t see any clasps or hinges to be able to open it so you’re filled with nothing but questions.

“What’s this for?”

“Consider it my apology for not checking up on you earlier. Open it later.”

You huff and nod your head. Realizing you're probably not going to get anymore out of him you change the topic, talking to him about whatever you feel like as you wait for Kaveh. You’re in the middle of explaining the task Nahida gave you and the research you’re about to do when Kaveh finally steps out of his room.

“Everything's put away, we can head off now!”

You get up excited and skip to the front door, not realizing Alhaitham getting up as well. Kaveh does though and swiftly starts to question him. 

“Where are you going? Back to work I’d hope.”

That has you turning around right before the door.

“I have some things I need to acquire at the Bazaar. Since you’re also going I thought to simply come along.”

You smile, you appreciate the thought, but feel Kaveh won’t in the slightest.

“Oh no you’re not coming with us! Knowing you, you’d try to but in with your own ‘advice’ when you don’t even understand the first thing about art. The clothes our Player is designing are for Lord Kusanali. Any help that you could provide would only serve to make the design a disaster.”

Your face falls as Kaveh starts an argument with Alhaitham, exactly what you expected. You debate dragging him away, but decide against it, saying you’ll wait for him outside. The only sign that he heard you is the slight turn of his head before you step outside yourself.

As you exit you look at the heart-shaped box Alhaitham gave you. You’re far too impatient to wait until you get home to see what’s inside, but you don’t know how to open it. You fiddle with it for a while when you hear the door open and close. Turning around you see Kaveh step outside and shove the box in his direction. 

“Huh? What’s this?”

“Alhaitham gave this to me, but I have no idea how to open it. Can you maybe, help me?”

He complains under his breath hearing Alhaitham’s name, but does take it from you to inspect it. Barely any time passes when he realizes what it is and presses on the jewel in the centre of the box. You flinch as wings suddenly pop out from its sides. Kaveh hands it back to you, and you stare at it with glee. He gave you a Sumeru styled glider.

“What a coincidence.”

You roll your eyes and try pressing the jewel to get the wings to retract, which it does, and tell Kaveh to shush. 

“Give him the benefit of the doubt just this once. I’ll have to thank him later. Anyway, what was the plan again?”

A smile finally forms on his face, and he goes over the plan he concocted “Yes! First we’ll stop by the Grand Bazaar, the Zubayr Theatre will have plenty of costumes that we can look at. I also know a few market stalls that sell fabric-”

You listen to him go on for a while when your eyes start to wander, and it’s when your eyes land on someone rummaging through their clothes looking for something you remember Kaveh’s and Alhaitham’s shared idle animation. He had them earlier, but just to make sure you decide to ask anyway.

“Sorry to interrupt, but you have your keys right Kaveh?

Kaveh stops and turns to you. You see his face contort multiple times, like he’s struggling to decide whether he should feel offended or not, before sighing.

“Of course I do, they're right… Uhh.”

You cross your arms and stare at him with as much disappointment you could muster. You watch as his face turns red as he continues patting himself down. Soon he gives up and slumps.

“... I think I left them with all of my things.”

You raise an eyebrow. “How did you even-”

“I have no idea. Give me a sec I’ll go get them.”

⭐⭐⭐⭐

Nahida twirls around in front of a mirror much larger than her, looking at the clothing you made for her from all angles. Her green mantelet swirls around her, the edge covered in padisarah designs and her bell chiming with every movement. The coat underneath a darker shade filled with swirls and flowing behind her legs. The necklace you gave her thumping against the sleeveless white shirt. In case she wanted some type of sleeves you also made white add-on sleeves with golden cufflets. Where the shirt ends, beads were placed to separate the blue and purple scarf around her waist. It had pale yellow ruffles that flowed over her pants. The pants are fairly puffy, also white and stop right above her ankles. You also decided to make her shoes, white and the same green as her mantelet with gold accents and adorned with green jewels at their tips. 

You fidget in your place behind her and mindlessly twiddle your thumbs. She hasn’t said anything yet, and it was starting to get to you. You spent a long time looking over clothes and books with Kaveh to try and understand Sumeru design, but even after all the studying you were still nervous presenting it to her. You’re at least thankful Wanderer hasn’t said anything to spite you yet.

Not wanting to be stuck in suspense any longer you just decide to ask her directly. “So Nahida… Do you like it? ‘Cause if you don’t I can make something else-”

“No I love it!” She turns and lets you see the massive smile on her face, her arms still spread wide. “I especially like the scarf. I’m not exactly sure why, but it reminds me of something I lost. I appreciate it, thank you!”

You breathe a sigh of relief. The scarf is what you were most worried about since it didn’t match the rest of the colour scheme. Especially since Kaveh had quite a bit to say about it, but you felt it to be integral. 

She then turns her attention to Wanderer, who still hasn’t said anything yet. “What do you think?”

He stares at her outfit for a moment, looking her up and down, before sighing and reluctantly giving his own opinion, “It’s… Alright.”

You elbow him in the arm for that which he barely even reacts to. “Oh come on, surely you have more to say than that.”

His brow twitches, “It’s amazing you managed to make anything presentable.”

You scoff and back away from him, “Never mind I don’t want your opinion anymore.”

Nahida claps her hands and grabs both of your attention, “I’m glad you like it too! Maybe our player can design you some new clothes as well!” 

“As if.” “Fat chance.”

You both end up dismissing the idea at the same time. The thought of working as hard as you did for Nahida on someone like Wanderer makes you want to die. He probably wouldn’t even try it on.

You then remember Kaveh wanted you to tell him everything after once you finished up here. Knowing him he’s been letting this eat away at his thoughts, so you should probably head off now.

You relay this to both of them, Nahida nods in understanding before waving cheerfully and Wanderer just walks off, causing you to roll your eyes. You wave back to Nahida and as you turn around you suddenly trip and fall face-first into the floor.

“Oh, sorry. I was just trying to stretch, you got in my way.”

Looking up you see Wanderer, dead faced as usual, but you can see the mirth in his eyes. Kaveh is instantly forgotten as you feel rage fill you and bubble under your skin. He starts to walk towards the exit, and you hop up to follow him, yelling and cussing him out as you try to catch up. Nahida watches on with a small smile, clutching the scarf in her hands.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 

Thanks for reading! 

Here’s the sketch I made to try and better describe her clothing. I’m terrible at describing clothing and wish I could just beam the perfect descriptors onto the page lmao.

I’m not exactly happy with the colour scheme (The cloak/mantelet reminds me too much of Collei’s), but this was the first time I’ve designed anything more complicated than a sweater and hoodie lol. I’m still proud I managed to come up with anything. As to why I gave importance to the scarf, it’s ‘cause I tried to make it look like a Rukkhashava Mushroom. 

“A fungus that grows in layers upon layers, like a sea of clouds, and which mostly grows on trees deep in the rainforest. Therefore, they are considered by the people of Sumeru to be the holy crystallization of Rukkhadevata's legacy. In Sumeru, those who dwell in the forest have a tradition of offering Rukkhashava Mushrooms to the Akademiya, but no one knows what these offerings are meant to be used for. Word has it that the Akademiya always performs a secret annual ritual at the Sanctuary of Surasthana, during which the sages will consume these mushrooms to commemorate Lord Rukkhadevata's sacrifice.”

And here’s her beta designs from Hoyo if you’re interested

[raina-at]

Box

Sometimes Sherlock's mind runs at high speed, sometimes he's brilliant and every input sparks a million deductions and interesting thoughts and new ideas. Sometimes he marvels at the complexity of his brain, the intricate rooms and spires of his mind palace.

Sometimes, and there's no other, less harsh word for it, sometimes Sherlock hates being in his own head.

Sometimes, when everything is loud and wild and too much, he feels like he would do anything, anything, to have a moment of peace. A moment of quiet, the insatiable engine of his brain stopping just for a second for a second so he can rest.

Sometimes, days are slow and grey and boring, and his mind is a slog of conflicting thoughts and memories, and the very idea of any kind of movement is already too much. Sometimes even the light hurts. Sometimes even John's voice is too loud. Sometimes even his dressing gown chafes his skin raw and even the air feels like pins and needles on his feet.

Sometimes Sherlock goes quiet, on days like this. Sometimes he gets high.

But he really hates the days when he gets nasty. He can't even really stop himself, he just spews out all the hateful thoughts about himself and other people into the face of the first person to touch him the wrong way.

Sometimes, that person is John.

Like about half an hour ago. Sherlock had been lying on the sofa since yesterday evening, unable, unwilling to even think of moving, and John had insisted he at least drink a bit of water.

Reasonable. Kind, even.

Sherlock opened his mouth and he eviscerated John. With deductions about his family, his bad habits, every tiny inadequacy in the bedroom he ever experienced (though their sex life, let's be honest, is fantastic, but at that moment he didn't care, it would hurt John and he would leave Sherlock alone in his misery). 

John, predictably, left.

Sherlock seriously asks himself whether one of these days, John won't come back. And he's frankly baffled when John comes back, not twenty minutes after Sherlock said some things to him that Sherlock himself will probably not be able to un-hear.

But John doesn't even seem overly angry. Resolute, yes. Wearing his 'Fuck with me at your peril' face, yes. But not angry.

"Okay," he says. "This ends now. Sit up."

Curious in spite of himself, and fully aware of how thin the ice he's walking on currently is, Sherlock does as he's told.

John puts a nondescript cardboard box on the table. "We're playing."

Sherlock doesn't roll his eyes, but it's an effort. This is an old game, one John invented for him back when he first moved in to entertain Sherlock between cases. John calls it 'What's in the box'.

Sherlock calls it a waste of his precious time and brain capacity. It's never taken him more than ten minutes to guess what's in the box. The only reason it’s even a bit of a challenge is that John is delightfully unpredictable. But still, Sherlock always guesses correctly.

But one look at John's flinty eyes, the telltale tension in his jaw muscles and the way he stands nearly at parade rest tells Sherlock that arguing right now would perhaps not be altogether in his best interest.

Sherlock holds John's determined gaze for a moment, then, after John raises a challenging eyebrow, directs his attention at the box.

It's a square box of brown cardboard, about 20 centimetres in diameter, large enough to hold a novelty mug, for example. Sherlock picks it up and starts examining it. It's very light, he notices that immediately. It's also cool to the touch, and slightly damp. It's snowing outside, so the deduction that John just went out and purchased this box is immediately obvious. But did he purchase the contents as well?

It has no discernible smell aside from the slight whiff of John's hand cream and London snow. The edges are smooth, whatever John put in there fit easily. The box makes no noise when he shakes it, so either the contents are well-secured or fit the box so perfectly that there is no room for movement.

“Five questions,” John says quietly.

Sherlock acknowledges the rules of the game with a tilt of his head and asks his first question. “Did you purchase the contents?”

John nods. “Four.”

“Did you do it within the last hour?”

John shakes his head.

Sherlock looks up from the box and meets John’s eyes. John is watching him with a mixture of anticipation and wariness, and Sherlock is suddenly overwhelmed with guilt, with disgust at the horrid, uncontrollable part of him that’s capable of spewing such ugliness to a person he loves so much. “Why are you still here?” he whispers, holding John’s eyes.

“Where would I go?” John asks quietly, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Anywhere has to be better than here on days like today,” Sherlock answers, his voice raw with emotion and the full force of his self-loathing. 

“Open the box,” John says gently, nodding at the small cardboard square between them.

“But the game-”

“Sod the game,” John says with his usual impatience. “Open. The bloody. Box.”

Sherlock decides arguing is pointless and opens the lid.

Inside is a lot of packing paper.

And inside the packing paper sits a small, square, velvet-covered ring box.

Sherlock looks up, surprised, aghast, shocked. “Why?” he asks, unable to say any more.

John shrugs, a quiet smile on his face. “Because. Because most days you’re wonderful. Because most days we have fun and adventure and closeness and great sex, because most days you’re brilliant and clever and funny and charming. Because on the days you’re not, you’re still you and I still love you. And I don’t see that changing any time soon. And I want you to be able to think about that when you look at that ring, and remember that even on the days when you hate your brain, I love it, and always will.”

Sherlock is speechless, helpless, planless in the face of this onslaught of affection. He looks down at the box and opens it with gentle, shaking fingers. 

The rings are lovely, of course. Plain white gold, simple, perfect.

“I don’t know what to say,” he says, addressing his words to the box because if he looks at John now he might very well die of overload. 

“It’s customary to say either yes or no,” John says, and underneath the teasing he can sense John’s actual uncertainty.

Sherlock takes John’s hand, encircling John’s ring finger with his fingertips, imagining the ring there. Finally, he looks up, and he smiles. “Yes.”

-------

Tags under the cut as usual, please tell me whether you want to be tagged or untagged. Sorry if I forgot to tag you, it's been a looog day. Also sorry if there's any mistakes in there. Long day.

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @keirgreeneyes @meetinginsamarra @jrow @jolieblack @helloliriels @discordantwords @lisbeth-kk @victorianpining @catlock-holmes

[darkcircles4lyfe]

This doesn't have anything to do with anything, but i had a talk with a friend a few days ago, about shonen biasis and the way this shapes our expectations, and mha came up so i remembered how so many people apply those biasis HEAVILY into the manga, to the point that they sound like they're looking for a different story.

And one of those things that it seemed to be MOST talked about is exactly bkdk's relationship.

I have seen many times people from the fandom (sometimes really angrily) point out how in most cases Katsuki seems to basically take up not one, but four roles in Izuku's life and this includes putting him in situations that people associate with the MC's love interest, and it is weird that, despite Izuku "having a girl" for people to make assumptions about, he seems to completely repulse any female character that could be the counter part to Izuku's.

And this made us wonder if Katsuki's placement in those roles and lack of interest was made specifically because the author precisely did not want the actions that both do for each other as romantic but a whole another thing entirely, as a subversion for the these classic tropes, as he did by making the conflict between Ochako and Himiko not a "rivals fighting for the affection of a boy" but something that is connected to the plot of these characters instead.

Oh you bet! I am always down to talk about this, because I think about it a lotttt.

This reminds me, recently I remembered a funny habit I used to have with books I read. Like, back in middle school. I used to start by flipping directly to the last page and reading the final sentence. Usually this did not spoil anything whatsoever, but sure enough, by the time I read through the whole book, that sentence would take on new meaning.

So I started musing about what it would be like if only I could do this with bnha, if everything was already out. It made me feel so nostalgic…

Will the last panel be something grand, or something small? Hopeful or sad? Distant? Intimate? A parting message to the reader? Will it look like almost nothing of consequence to the unknowing eye—yet burst with hard-hitting subtext?

Of course I wonder about all the twists and reveals that might be still ahead of us, but it’s kinda soothing to think about how the whole thing could be put to rest. Because then I realize I’m not worried.

For once, this is not because the story is following so many tropes so predictably that I know exactly, in so many words, how it will end. It’s more like the story is a close friend who I’ve gotten to know well enough that everything they do is so “them” it makes me smirk. I'm often marveling at how Horikoshi has managed to pull all this off. How is it that (at least here in the west) people who aren't really paying attention call it basic and cookie-cutter. Even a Japanese animator called it "classic," and this interview shows such obvious dissonance between Hori and the interviewer, just... wow. But it's so clear that bnha has broken just about every rule in the book at this point, so much so that I struggle to condense it into words. I'm like--*gestures broadly at everything*--why haven't more people picked up on it??

Yet we still get bombarded with people saying "it's a shonen, c'mon, we all know how this will end." Um. No you don't. I KNOW there has to be a bunch of people who are secretly frustrated by Kacchan taking up all the roles and getting all the moments. It's not even in a mysogynistic way, because Kacchan is the most anti-dudebro character imaginable. Bkdk's relationship isn't intended for them and they know it... and you know what, I'm starting to ramble. You've heard all this before. The thing I should really be focusing on in your ask is the part where you mentioned how you and your friend were speculating about bkdk ending up as "a whole other thing entirely" rather than simply romantic.

Well, fuck it, I've been biting my tongue, but now might as well be the time I talk about this. I got into a bit of a disagreement with someone over it once and then I shut up. Because it's very difficult to approach the subject without being lumped in with those people who see bkdk as "brotherly" (ew) or otherwise try to push some "crisis of male friendship" agenda, or at the very least without being accused of enabling people to make excuses against bkdk being canon ad infinitum. So let me be clear that I do NOT want bkdk to have an ambiguous or open ending. I want their complexity and importance to be acknowledged. I want them to use their words. I think we may have created a bit of a false dichotomy there.

I am aromantic, and to suggest romantic relationships are inherently the most important and intimate goes against every fiber of my being. I also reject the idea that cut-and-dry gay representation is more desirable just because it is more easily understood by the masses than aspec representation or representation of relationships "beyond" both romantic and platonic. We recognize how ridiculous it is for people to expect Izu*cha at this point, right? Well, the reason they're so confident anyway isn't just because of heteronormativity. It's also because of amatonormativity, the assumption that romantic attraction trumps all: no matter how much focus bkdk get, Izuku blushed at Ochako, so that automatically makes them more "important." THAT is the notion that I want to challenge most. More than anything, I want bkdk's relationship to be fully acknowledged because they have so much more going for them than just attraction.

You and your friend make an excellent point, that it would be very much in line with Horikoshi's taste and the patterns of his writing so far if he chose to subvert the shonen romance trope not just by giving it to two boys, but also by disregarding its premise entirely. It's unlikely he'd try to stuff them into such a copy-paste ending right at the end.

So maybe they won't get the blushy confession, the obligatory kiss, the wedding, the 2.5 kids and a white picket fence. That's fine, we shouldn't pretend those tired tropes are suddenly revolutionary just because they're gay. But don't be disappointed! Without them, we have more room for things that are actually personally meaningful to bkdk to stand out and receive the nuance they deserve: talking through their feelings openly, building each other up like no one else can, understanding each other like no one else can, smiling at each other, embracing, holding hands, rushing to the other in the hospital, being glued at the hip (or even closer), healing mutual trauma, putting each other first in all things. Maybe we'll also get confirmation on Ochako's side as she moves on from her crush on Izuku. You know what other shonen manga took this exact angle as a way of subverting tropes and presenting genuine complexity? Blue Flag! There are so many ways to do bkdk justice.

Even a kiss isn't out of the question, if the right opportunity comes along. A perfect example of what I'm talking about is Good Omens (major season 2 spoilers) because the kiss between Crowley and Aziraphale was not at all about canonizing them. It was an expression of pain and desperation that just made sense at that particular moment. Neil Gaiman was adamant that if it took that kiss to understand the context of their relationship, you really weren't paying attention. I respect the hell out of that.

Recently I was even daydreaming about bkdk getting something similar to the sort of uh, shall we say tasteful nudity, that togachako got, because of how Izuku appears in the vestige realm.

Ya know like not in an nsfw way but in like a "this is so deeply intimate and soft that I feel like I'm intruding" kind of way... yeah. Because it represents vulnerability and openness and acceptance of someone as they are. And I don't care if people call that bait. It's not. It's beautiful. It’s honest.

[night-raven-tattler]

Hello there, I recently became a follower and I love your writing so far, keep up the great work and I hope you’re having a wonderful day

I saw that requests are open so if it’s alright, can I get headcannons of the first years (separate) and shows/movies they’d enjoy watching with the reader?

Thought it’ll be pretty fun and an excuse for me to get recommendations lol, thank you!

Hello, Aesthetic! Thank you for your kind words! This was a bit of a challenge for Mx Tattly, since they are not a huge movie person. However she hopes you still enjoy his takes. They also wrote from the perspective of the Prefect/Yuu having access to some movies from their world of origin. Enjoy!

Movie night, otherworldly edition

Characters: Grim, Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, Ortho, Sebek and GN!Reader (separate)

Warnings: food mention (Epel's part)

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Grim's preffered genres are: comedy, action, animation, fantasy

Grim trully is a child at heart, and all the colorful characters and scenes from animation have him hooked

He also enjoys a good laugh, especially visual gags

He barely has any attention to spare for a series, so movies are his preffered format

He would never admit it but he's a sucker for found family

Silent movie crier

Loud denier

Some favorites from your world: Home; Bolt; That one Wizard Boy Movie we Don't mention in This Household; he has a weird relationship with Ace Ventura

『••✎••』

Ace's preffered genres are: horror, thriller, action, adventure

He enjoys gorey stuff and being the guy you hide behind of when the scenes get too much, but he needs time to prepare for psychological horror

Ace is the type to look up spoilers before watching something and he tries to trick you into believing his made up version of the plot

He talks a lot during movies but hates when others do it

While he enjoys a good adventure movie, he hates superhero movies and he thinks they're silly

He prefers movies over series because he likes the format more, but he's down for a short series

Some favorites from your world: The Mummy; Jumanji (he loves making fun of it); American Psycho; Scary Movie

『••✎••』

Deuce's preffered genres are: action, adventure, animation, family movies

He is pretty easy to please, he'd watch anything that is entertaining

Definitely a Marvel fan

He also loves animation movies, the animation always leaves him awestruck

He likes movies about families and their bonds

Deuce is also surprisingly into medical dramas... but also cop dramas

He is a crier as well but only when he's just with you

Some favorites from your world: Black Panther; The Rookie; A Goofy movie; Police Academy 2

『••✎••』

Jack's preferred genres are: documentary, adventure, romance, dramas and telenovelas with a bit of nudging

Jack is the type of guy to retain various informations after watching something

He can sometimes memorise entire scenes, and he finds that habit less annoying when he watches documentaries; he likes something informative and motivational

Jack also enjoys some romance movies sometimes, but he is very picky so it's hard for him to find one he actually likes

He does, however, like to point out and comment on the weird courting habits humans have

Jack finds telenovelas and soap operas kind of nonsensical and overly dramatic, but he also gets hooked on the plot pretty quick and soon enough it would become a bit of a guilty pleasure

Some favorites from your world: David Holmes, the boy who lived; the social dilemma; Love, Simon; Yo soy Betty la fea

『••✎••』

Epel's preferred genres are: comedy, action, western, anything he can mock and make fun of

If you think Ace is bad with his mid watch commentary, Epel is 10 times worse

He mocks things in movies so often he's giving Cinema Sins a run for their money

He won't shut up even if you give him all the snacks, he'll talk while eating

He also has the most colourful, boisterous, ridiculous laughter imaginable (and I say that lovingly), so if the comedy movie is not making you laugh then Epel's laughter is

Epel is not a picky watcher so he can get behind anything that isn't too sappy

If you pull out anything with Vil on the poster though he will dematerialise from your couch

Some favorites from your world: Rush Hour; Desperado; Puss in Boots 2; any Fast and Furious movie (unfortunately)

『••✎••』

Ortho's preferred genres are: anything he finds intriguing, family movies

If anything, Ortho has a wide palate and can enjoy almost anything

He also knows how a movie ends before he watches it, but it never ruins his enjoyment

He never spoils anyone unless they try to argue with him about the direction of the plot

Most of his interest in movies came from wanting to understand human behavior better, but now he can just use them as a time killer or sleepover material

He also likes watching your reactions to the movies: how often you laugh, how often you cry, how often you reach for snacks

A favorite from your world: Big Hero 6

『••✎••』

Sebek's preferred genres are: historical films, (period) dramas, musicals with the right nudge

Listen here, musical enjoyers. Here is the most susceptible one to being convinced to join the dark side

One word: Hamilton.

Yes, he'll think the music is nonsensical, BUT he'll also tap his foot to it

AND if you say anything about teaching him something from the soundtrack to surprise Malleus with, he's all ears

He is also very quick to get songs stuck in his head: he's easy prey

All jokes aside, Sebek can be a good watch buddy when his interest is piqued

Not even he can deny when a movie has good plot and characters

He does prefer period dramas, since he has a soft spot for the setting

And historical films: a nerd do be nerding even during movie nights

Some favorites from your world: The Crown, Hamilton, Les Miserables, maybe Oppenheimer but it would be used in his anti-human agenda

『••✎••』

Speaking of Oppenheimer...

Well, let's discuss Barbenheimer.

Everyone went to watch both movies:

Ace went dressed in pink for the both of them

Deuce got confused by the "dresscode" and apologised to you for not knowing about it

Jack and Ortho enjoyed both

Epel insisted he liked Oppenheimer more but he's lying

Sebek cried at the end of Barbie

Grim is the only one who in fully in Oppenheimer's corner

[stevebabey]

hiii ruby !!! congrats on ur milestone i think ur so cool and funny and ofc so so deserving :D for ❤️‍🔥 can i request forehead against forehead from prompt list 5 bc i am a sucker for it <33 thank u ily !

ahhh!!! anna you are so lovely <3 thank u sm for picking this one it opened pandoras BOX in my brain and i think this is by far my absolute favourite i've written this whole damn celebration & its bcos its, of course, friends to lovers <3 - 1.7k+

The wish is far-fetched.

You knew that from the beginning and yet, like wishes were stackable, like wishing for something over and over would improve its odds of happening, you couldn’t help yourself. Every eyelash, every time the hands of the clock line up at 11.11, you wish desperately.

Eyes scrunched closed, you wish for Steve.

You have him, of course, just not quite as you want him.

It feels selfish, the hungry feeling that rises in your chest when you look at him too long, eyes drinking in every detail you adore. Long lashes, hazel eyes, lips so pink it wasn’t fair. You want him all to yourself. These are not the usual thoughts of a best friend.

Sometimes, the yearning seems to carve out every part of you til you feel hollow inside; because you’d offer it all out to him, every piece of yourself between your cupped hands, his if he only wanted it.

You want him to want it. To want you. Badly.

So, you wish. At this point, it feels more like a habit than anything — the clock hits eleven minutes past 11 and you send a little prayer out to the universe to give you this one thing. You don’t notice how Steve notices.

He can’t quite connect the dots in the beginning, can’t see the pattern that strings together all the things he’s noticed. How from time to time, you’ll close your eyes and squint just a bit— but then, quick as it happens, it’s gone. You’ll open your eyes, look over back at him, and continue on as if nothing has occurred.

Steve doesn’t pry, even though he really wants to — the first time you notice him watching you, he raises his brows, a silent what was that? with a hope you’ll clue him in. He wants in on all your secrets. But in an instant, he can see the embarrassment creep across your features, so he drops it, waving his hand, and resumes talking, eyes back on the road ahead of him.

After a month of subtlety catching the habit of yours that he's come to cherish, the sweet scrunch of your eyes and gentle clench of your fists at your side, Steve notices the clock.

You check the clock, most of the time, before your eyes flutter closed. It happens late in the morning and close to midnight. But then again also at random intervals, at times he’s not expecting. The frustrating pattern evades him even though he’s noticing. Noticing is, infuriatingly, not enough.

It takes another month for Steve to realise you’re wishing.

He’s enamored with the habit now — especially, now he knows you’re sending little hopes, blowing on eyelashes with the fervor of a little kid. The craving to know your secrets, to be trusted with your wishes, has grown ten-fold since he first noticed. Steve notices just about everything about you now.

It’s hard not to. What started as trying to comprehend your peculiar pattern, has become... something entirely different. Steve feels helpless to do anything but admire you now. His feelings for you have become startlingly fond, borderline sappy.

The sound of your laughter and how it threads gold into his days marvels him. The colour of your eyes in the morning light. How you curl up in his passenger seat like it’s the comfiest place you’ve ever known, like you could sit there all day with him. If he asked. 

He’s pretty sure his heart strayed from best friend territory the moment he figured out the wishes. Maybe, he’s fooling himself and it’s always been this way.

It’s on his mind, even as the two of you sit at the back of the Hawk theatre, some garbage Sci-Fi film flickering on the screen. Normally, the back of the cinema was unofficially reserved for couples that wanted to make-out — Steve had pulled that move on a dozen dates. Picked a cheesy romance and the cozy darkness of the back of the theatre.

This is not the same, he knows. It’s not a cheesy romance film, you’re not quite at the back, and most importantly, this is not a date.

Steve really wishes it was.

“Hey,” Your whisper shakes him from his thoughts. Steve’s gaze moves from boring into the back of the chair in front of him to your concerned face. “Y’okay?” 

You’ve turned towards him, shoulders hunched over like you might disturb other people in the cinema if you’re too big. It’s silly, there’s barely anyone else in here but you and Steve. A couple people a few rows forward.

Steve nods, throat dry. You don’t look convinced, eyes narrowing for a moment as if you’ll say something when your expression shifts. You focus on something below his eye.

“What?” Steve whispers, too aware of your fixed stare. His nerves creep up, feeling a bit flushed beneath your attention. Your hand comes up, reaching out to graze across his cheek and Steve forces himself to stay still. To not melt into the touch.

“S’just an eyelash.” You whisper, still focused. Thumb moving gently as you can, you sweep the eyelash beneath his eye off his cheek. It moves an inch but remains stubbornly on his skin. You huff silently, turn his way a little more, and lean in closer to try pinch it. It takes a moment as you try your best not to pinch Steve at the same time.

When you finally snag it between your fingertips, victory comes in the form of your pleased smile. It takes another moment to realise just how close you’ve gotten to Steve. Leaned over, his breath fans over your face and you can see the film reflected in his eyes, action sequences playing far, far away.

Faintly, you think that if you had your wish already, you could lean in a few inches further and steal a kiss. You think of the eyelash in your fingertips.

The thought knocks sense back into you, blinking hard, but just as you go to pull back Steve’s eyes flash down to your lips. He licks his own, then swallows, looks back up at you. A wretched thread of hopes keeps you from pulling back just yet — desperately praying you’re not reading into nothing.

Steve doesn’t pull back. His heart has hiked so far up his throat he’s surprised he’s able to get any words out at all.

“What are you wishing for?” He croaks, too quiet. You hear it anyways.

Surprise shows on your face, lips parting and eyes widening just a moment. Steve wants you to give back the eyelash just so he can make his very own wish right now.

“How did you... know?” The last word is meek, only audible because Steve is so close. He wants to be closer. He moves an inch, recalling every single time he’s gotten the signals right in the past to keep him from losing his nerve. Tries not to think about what he might lose should he be wrong this time.

“You,” He huffs a little laugh, searching your eyes, trying to see if it’s the same hope he feels inside that he’s seeing in your eyes. “You close your eyes and wish on every 11.11. And— and eyelashes and dandelions too. You do this little squint, like you’re thinking real hard about what you want.”

Unable to help himself, Steve steals another glance at your lips as your tongue darts out to lick them nervously. His chest rises and falls a bit fast, nerves urging his pulse to run faster, faster. God, he’s nervous. Steve can’t remember ever being so nervous at the mere chance of just a kiss.

“So, what're you wishing for?” He asks again, in a whisper just for you two.

The film illuminates the side of your face, shadows dancing across the lines of your cheek. You’re beautiful, Steve thinks, achingly so. The silence twists his heart painfully. He doesn’t know you’re merely gathering your hopes to spit out the honest answer.

“You.”

You whisper the word quickly, knowing if you have a moment to think about it you’ll tuck it and all your selfish desires back away into your heart. But you ache for this moment — hunger devouring your insides with how much you want to kiss the boy before you. Enough that you’ll risk it.

It’s worth the risk.

The single word sets Steve off and he closes the distance between you in an instant, lips against yours. It’s gentle as he can manage while his heart works overtime pumping molten-hot affection into every part of his body. He feels giddy. He nearly forgets to memorise the curve of your lips, the warmth of this against his own, it feels so deliriously good to be kissing you. He thinks he’s been missing this his whole life.

You look a little dazed when Steve pulls back, lips with a sheen that catches the flashes of the cinema screen. You don’t speak, just blink and sink your teeth into your bottom lip, mind miles away. Your lack of a smile worries Steve; he feels like he could burst with how he wants to beam if this is what you want too.

He gathers his courage and presses forward again, til his forehead against yours. Tells you what he knows to be true, what you’ve been dying to hear. “You have me.”

Your eyes snap up to meet his and you give Steve a flood of relief, lips pulling into a smile. A small laugh of disbelief titters out of you, your smile transforming into a grin that betrays your utter happiness. This close, you let the want take over you and lean in to steal another kiss off his lips. He gives it to you sweetly and oh-so-willingly.

You stay this close, nose nuzzling against his, both your heads bowed to meet each other in the middle.

“I’ve been wishing on you for months,” You admit bashfully, your whisper wobbling in your embarrassment. You’re worried the enormity of your want for him will scare him off. Steve’s grin somehow gets wider, eyes somehow fonder. His voice comes out a bit scratchy, all sticky with affection.

“I think you’ve had me the whole time.”

It’s the honest truth. You’re not even mad about lost time because when he kisses you again like that, there’s no doubt that now? He’s all yours.

[gatorbites-imagines]

I saw you do Marvel, by chance could I get a Peter Parker x male reader?

The reader is very cuddly with Peter, always holding him and burying his face into his neck.

Peter Parker x male reader

Headcanons

I just finished spiderman Miles Morales and started replaying the spiderman ps4 game again, so I’m crawling the walls for spiderman rn.

I feel Peter is a very touch starved person in general, so if you end up being super cuddly and touchy, he doesn’t mind at all.

In the beginning he has to teach himself its okay for you to touch and love on him though, since he isn’t used to anyone but aunt may and maybe Ned touching him, but when he gets used too it he loves it.

Did you know some male spiders purr? Yeah. Purring Peter, I will go down to my grave with this headcanon. Expect a tiny barely noticeable rumble from him when you guys cuddle up real close.

Sometimes he falls into his spider urges and will bundle you two up in blankets and other soft things to make a little cave of sorts, where you two can snuggle up and cuddle all you want, away from the bothers of the world. He will never admit it out loud but he does preen a bit when you compliment his “nest”

Did you also know some spiders hibernate? Expect a sleepy cuddly Peter when its real cold out, and if there’s a snowstorm, you’ll have to keep an eye on him, and maybe even herd him home into bed. He won’t go into hibernation but expect him to be even clingier than normal.

He’s also allergic to peppermint, cuz spider.

But outside of that Peter doesn’t mind your affection, he might even revel in it quite a bit. He will never admit it since it makes him feel a little selfish to love your attention so much, but you can tell.

He always looks forwards to coming home to you, especially after a long day or tough patrol. Sometimes the thoughts of your hugs and kisses are the only thing that gets him through the day, and when things get tough, he just has to remind himself he has you to get back too.

He also fights harder and doesn’t give up, because he has to return home to you, to your warm embrace and loving touches. He can’t bear the thought of losing you or leaving you behind.

Peter does make a habit out of returning home instead of getting medical treatment though, so he can cuddle up against you. He claims your love makes him heal faster, but in reality, he just wants you to coddle him a bit, and he hates hospitals.

So, you get really good at patching him up and have to punish him with no cuddles and kisses for a while because he won’t take care of himself. Peter always starts whining and begging you for kisses, and when you don’t give them to him, he will act like he’s dying.

I feel Peter struggles with words sometimes, so when you guys argue he’s more likely to bring you a bouquet of your favorite flowers and hug you. So, if you enjoy the physical contact, it only helps him even more.

You both expressing your love through physical contact is good, but it does mean you guys probably need to remember to communicate with words at times, just in case.

[avocado-writing]

notes: okay. this is the double ball gag fic. it also has crowley & aziraphale manifesting vaginas but still being male presenting bc nonbinary angels/demons can do what they want. everyone has sex very gender nonconformingly.

pairing: crowley x reader x aziraphale. Dom!Reader, Sub!Crowley/Aziraphale

words: 1.6k

rating: E, minors DNI (dom/sub; shibari; overstimulation; aftercare)

if you like my work here’s my kofi!

Outside of Aziraphale’s bookshop London is busy. People walk with purpose and without care, bumping shoulders and swapping unpleasantries. Outside they’re human: crass, bitter, small. 

That’s only if you’re being damning though. They’re also wonderful, bright, and marvellous. Something you’ve not quite reconciled within yourself. You’ve lived longer than any of them, so you’re not exactly a human, but neither are you like your lovers: able to change your body with just a thought and a click. Sometimes you wish you had what Aziraphale and Crowley had. Other times, you resign yourself to what you are, and be glad they can make up the other pieces. 

The tea brews, and you think about the first time you saw both of them with vulvas. 

For Crowley, it was quite soon after the three of you found each other again. Aziraphale was off on business and, given that you were still in the honeymoon decade, you and Crowley couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. You had him in bed, pulling off his doublet and hose, unwrapping him like a present that was still a surprise even when you knew what the contents were. 

Only that time it was a surprise, because instead of a cock between his legs, you found a willing and wet cunt. 

“Oh!”

“Oh?” Crowley had asked, then seemed to remember and looked down. “Oh, yes. I felt like it today. Is that a problem?”

“Never,” you’d said, and slipped your fingers inside of him. 

Aziraphale changed himself around in that manner less than Crowley did. He was a creature of habit and more importantly a creature of comfort, if he was happy in how he looked it wasn’t often he’d alter it. But you remember, in seventeen-fifty, the day he — she — had walked down the stairs in her rococo dress with its risqué neckline, gorgeous blonde hair in tight curls around her heart-shaped face. She had taken your breath away. 

“Aziraphale, you’re beautiful.”

She lit up like the sun on a clear day. 

That night you’d both taken her to bed and found her pretty pussy in her fair nest of hairs. She’d cried out as Crowley sheathed himself inside her, and afterwards as you covered her opening with your mouth to taste what Crowley had left. 

Yes. You’d learned not to expect anything when it came to getting them into bed. But, usually, when you propose an idea to them, they’re more than happy to indulge in it. Especially when you use that voice. That voice which promises they’re going to be shaking messes by the time you’re done with them. 

Your timer beeps and you jump. Half an hour. It’s probably been long enough. You take the tray of tea and head upstairs. 

They’re in the bedroom, exactly where you left them, which is good - it means they didn’t try to miracle out of their bindings. Which you told them, if they did, they’d be in trouble for. And not the fun kind of trouble either, with the whipped cream. 

The bench only comes out on special occasions but you’ve had it for years. Leather, very easily wiped clean. Which is good especially for where you’ve got them at the moment. 

What a pretty scene: they’re strapped to it, both of them, bodies pressed uncomfortably close together. There are three things preventing them from moving apart. One: the way you’ve bound their ankles and hands behind them to the bench effectively sealing them in place with the shibari rope; two: the fact the nipple clamps you’ve put on them are threaded together and to pull only leads to tugging; and three: the fact you’ve got them strapped to either side of a double ball gag. 

As they hear you enter the room their eyes turn to you desperately. You take a moment to sear the filthy picture into your mind. Two of them trapped in a faux kiss, spit escaping their mouths and dripping down between them. And, between their legs, you can hear the humming of the hitachi wands you rigged to press mercilessly into both their clits. 

Half an hour they’ve been here for. You’ve tried this before in the early noughties back when they both had cocks. They’d both tapped out though (and you let them, you weren’t heartless). It was just too sensitive. A cunt, though? That can take a pounding and keep on going. 

Yes. Half an hour. You’ve left them for half an hour with no other instructions than “keep track of how many times the other one comes.”

You’d whipped Crowley’s glasses off first, though, just to make sure he didn’t try to hide anything. And that makes him look more naked than the fact he doesn’t have a shred of clothing on. You put down the tea and approach them. You can hear the harmony of their laboured breathing; inhalations they don’t need to take but do so anyway to calm themselves through the overstimulation. Crowley’s let loose a couple of tears but Aziraphale is a mess, pink and flushed, crying hard, hair stuck slick to his forehead. You tenderly wipe it free for him. 

“Aziraphale, you’re beautiful,” you whisper. Even strung out on pleasure and with his mouth stopped by rubber Crowley manages a harrumph. You roll your eyes affectionately. 

“Yes, you are too, big boy.”

You pull back and cross your arms, switching back to business. 

“Alright. One at a time I’m going to ask you to blink how many times you saw the other one come. You first, Crowley.”

Crowley looks you dead in the eyes and blinks five times. You make a mental note and turn to your angel. 

“Go on now, your turn.”

Through the tears Aziraphale gives you seven blinks. Your eyebrows raise. 

“Incredible. You must be sore, Crowley.”

Crowley makes a little noise in the back of his throat. You reach down between Aziraphale’s legs and turn off the vibrator. He chokes against the gag in relief, sucking in a deep, calming breath through his nose. Crowley looks hopeful but you make no move to do the same for him. 

Carefully you remove the ball from their mouths, undo the clamps. You listen to them both groan and stretch their jaws to get the feeling back. You undo some of Aziraphale’s ropes to allow him a little more slack and comfort, but most importantly so that he’s able to lie backwards. 

They’re messes. Spit soaks their chest having dripped down from the gag, forcibly smeared between them due to their proximity. You turn to Crowley. 

“Alright now, darling. Clean him up.”

He looks confused, dazed, all of his attention still on his cunt. He wiggles his hands only to find them still trapped. You reach out and open his mouth for him, pressing your thumb between his lips. 

“With your tongue, darling. Go on. Be a good boy, and I’ll turn it off.”

“Fuck,” Crowley manages, before reaching over to Aziraphale. You watch him work him over, licking him clean from the mixture of sweat and spit, enjoying the way the angel’s eyes roll back in his head at the feeling of his husband’s tongue. When you believe Crowley has done a thorough enough job you manoeuvre Aziraphale down even further, supporting him as he lies on his back and spreads his legs. His pussy is a puffy pink and glistening with come. You nod the demon towards it. 

“Little more, Crowley.”

He finds just enough room in his binds to lean forward and press his mouth to Aziraphale’s entrance, his tongue licking careful stripes over the angel’s lips. Aziraphale cries out as his poor cunt is once again wracked with pleasure, and you undo his ropes to allow for him to slip one hand free and bury it in your clothes for support. His chest hitches beautiful, back a gorgeous arch. 

You hold him, gripping him through it, until Crowley is done. 

“You’re so good for me,” you whisper to him, sliding your finger into his red locks and pulling his head back gently to face you. His eyes are wide and exhausted, but full of satisfaction as you finally turn his hitachi off. You kiss him, long and slow, touching your tongue against his and tasting Aziraphale off his lips.

Finally done, finally spent, you begin to dismantle the set-up. Yes, they could miracle themselves free, but that takes away from the intimacy of it. The care. They collapse in your arms as you undo the ropes and you help them over to the bed, massaging the feeling back into their limbs. All the while you pepper them with kisses and praises both, telling them how well they did, how good they are. 

“Tea or water?” you ask them both. The unanimous response is ‘tea’, so you bring it over to them from your tray. As they drink it down — well, what you’ve made them do is thirsty work — you head into the en-suite and grab a wet flannel. They nuzzle into each other as you begin to wipe them down, clear the sweat and stickiness from their bodies. When you reach between Crowley’s legs he hisses and you stop. 

“Sore?”

“Mmm.”

“I'm sorry darling. But was it good?”

He nods enthusiastically, pressing his face into the soft space between Aziraphale’s neck and shoulder. 

Later, you’ll run them a bath, take your time washing them down with the nice body soak. You’ll discuss the whole scene and hear with enthusiasm that it’s something they’d like to do again; Crowley’s pretty sure he can last longer next time. You’ll take them downstairs and make dinner and collapse into a cuddly pile on the sofa, watching that show you all like from the eighties. 

But for now you let them rest, sitting at the head of the bed to stroke their hair, and being there if they need anything in the world. 

[featherwingfae]

Ok So this one is for the Fae/Faerie kin that also identify as Therians or feel a connection with certain animals.

I've seen many Fae/Faerie kin who are also Therian, and I'll admit I have a connection to some animals myself and have been found to mimic their behaviors. However I don't remember living like an animal. Now it's possible that they are simply kin memories that have not yet surfaced, but I don't feel like that's the case. I can remember being said animals just not living as them. For example I would romp and play as a fox among other foxes but I did not survive the way they did. For me it was merely fun. Not unlike a child playing pretend. I feared no hunters and I did not need to hunt for food myself. And if ever I did hunt it was simply part of the game rather than survival. I know there are plenty of Fae that could and would change into the forms of animals, and as fun as messing with humans might be, I just don't think it was the only reason Fae would go about as animals. Which only furthers my belief that sometimes it was just for the pure fun of it. And I'd imagine that just as some people have favorite animals so too do some fae. I don't think it was always just a one time thing either. Fae can communicate with the natural world in ways most humans would only dream of, imagine just being that one deer in the herd that just disappears and reappears but after years and years of interaction the rest of the herd (while probably sensing that you are not quite a deer, no matter how much you may look like one), has also come to accept that you are not a danger to them. Perhaps over time you've kept an eye on this one herd and their descendants. steering them away from the occasional danger or leading them to the juiciest greenest hidden pastures. You become a kind of faerie god-deer (like faerie godmother). And after so much time acting like a deer, you find yourself slipping into the animalistic habits even when you're not taking the animal form. But you don't mind. Your experiences are part of you, it was only natural. And perhaps after a while you find that the courts and humanity are just not all that interesting to you. You think about the deer. Your deer. The herd you'd been watching, protecting, guiding. You start spending more and more time as a deer. It's fun, it's free and after a while most predators learn to keep their distance from your herd. You are still Fae but the deer is part of you now, perhaps just as important as the part of you that is Fae.

I'm curious are there any Fae/Faerie kin who resonate with this at all? Do you remember (if in fact you have any kin memories at all. Not everyone does. And there's nothing wrong with that 😊) being an animal living, surviving as an animal? Or, do you remember being interested and/or amused playing as an animal while all the time knowing that the other animals can sense that you are different? Does the Fae/Faerie kin side and the Therian side feel like two separate lives or do they feel almost blended? Do you remember being afraid when you were an animal or did you know that you had almost nothing to fear? That no matter what, you were a magical being that could charm, trick, or enchant your way out of most situations?

Please understand I'm not trying to invalidate anyone. As far as I'm concerned no one can tell someone who or what they are but them. If you resonate at all with this post it doesn't make you any more or less Fae/Faerie kin or Therian. In the end, only you can know who you are. I also write this post for the Fae/Faerie kin who don't quite feel Therian but find themselves acting in animalistic ways. Those that feel connection and memory but still just don't quite feel they are/were animals (at least not normal ones). Kins that feel like it was/is more play than survival but who still find it quite satisfying to shriek, bark, meow, growl, chirp, squawk, etc.

If you've read this far, then I appreciate you and may you have a most marvelous and magical day/night 😊🍀✨🌙🍄☀️👁️

Till next time

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Hey, I love your Junkan art! Just was wondering, you recommended VanadisValentine 's work, which I agree with as I love all their Junkan stuff... but I was wondering, do you have any other Junkan recommendations? Would love to hear them if you do! (Ps. I haven't finished your blood bag work but what I have read of it so far I'm loving!)

Why thankyou for this question! First off glad you like all of the Junkan stuff so far, it's been a labor of love (and obsession) that took 9 months but seeing all the positive reactions has made it all worth it! As for recommendations, I am happy to oblige. I'll admit I haven't read every single Junkan Fic there is, I have made it a habit to go on a crazy binge of as much Junkan as I can, I go through every single page on AO3 and read anything tagged as soft (along with anything that looks like it was worth the risk.)

Hell when it comes to Junkan fics I literally have the Junko/Mikan tag for AO3 bookmarked and right at the top of my screen so I can click anytime, and I'm sure I still have plenty of fics left to read whether it's on this site or somewhere else hidden deep within google search. So if anyone wants to go in the comments/reblogs and give recommendations or even shill their own stuff go right ahead!~

Be sure to remember these, they'll be on the test later (this is foreshadowing) So do allow me to give you the long list of fics to read when you're feeling the vibe

I've already recommended VanadisValentine's works in previous posts, however for the sake of a complete list I'll still put em here.

The Marvelous Makeover of Mikan Tsumiki - VanadisValentine (Absolute Classic, also just really fun to say)

Everything You've Ever Dreamed - VanadisValentine (Quite possibly one of my favorite Fanfics just in general)

Turn Out the Lights - VanadisValentine (More focused on the characters separated along with their thoughts on the relationship but it's a great fic for when you're in the mood)

When Am I Gonna Lose You? - VanadisValentine (An 18+ Fic just as a warning, but if you're old enough and looking for something in that field this is an amazing piece, even with all my skill in the field of drawing funny pictures I don't think I could depict anything near as beautiful as the descriptions featured here. Does that sound pretentious? Yes! But I know what I am lol.) Year of Love and Despair - VanadisValentine (Last one from her on this list, also ongoing! If you want a variety of stories of these two ranging from fluffy to dramatic to sometimes even saucy then this fic is the place for you. Genuine highlight of my year and has helped me get through the tougher days very often. You can also look and see my really excessively long comments on most of the chapters!~)

Living in a Crazy Parallel World - Yurikah (Fair warning, this one is very long, isn't 100% Junkan Focused, and is also unfinished with it's last update being awhile ago. That said I think if you can make peace with that going into it you'll be in for a very well written treat!~)

Soft (But Only for Her) - Kayleen756894 (When I first got into Junkan I had only read a small handful of fics from AO3, this was one of them and I went through it in a single night. Extremely fun experience that covers a wide variety of ideas for Junkan. Fluffy, Tragic, it's the whole nine yards. There's gotta be at least one story in this collection that will appeal to someone if they like this ship)

Smile - Kayleen756894 (Truly amazing, one of the all time Junkan Fics out there. It can be a very stressful read but oh so very worth it in my opinion. And for those who want a fic closer to canon in terms of character depictions while still being on the softer side I think this will satisfy heavily)

Hurt, Hold, Heal - Kayleen756894 (Do you like Junko helping Mikan through a Panic Attack? Do you like Junko trying to be a better person? Do you like Mikan helping Junko just as much as Junko helps her? Oh look it's the fic for you. The ending is really sweet too)

Tomorrow is Lonely - Kayleen756894 (Also 18+, arguably even more than the previous one on the list. Check the tags before you read and if that sounds like something you're into go for it. Me personally I gotta be in a very specific headspace first but when I do read it I enjoy myself, it's real cute and has a lot of great little character moments)

Protectors in Red - Kayleen756894 (Extremely good! Also features Mukuro! So if that's a selling point then I'm sure it'll vibe)

Forgive Me, My Beloved - Gloomy_snake (Significantly out of my normal comfort zone and definitely not what one would expect compared to the other fics here, but an enjoyable read. And if you like Doomed Yuri, it's got plenty packed in.)

Drowning - aparticularbandit (Extremely inspiring piece of writing featuring Alter Ego Junko instead of Original Recipe Junko!)

A Night for Two - TheGreatWave74 (Cute fic with the girlies at the pool)

what's better than this, girls havin fun - oxidize (A Chatfic! It might not give the same lasting impact as other fics on the list, however this was the fic that introduced me to the very idea of Soft Junkan, so I will always cherish it, and make sure to re-read it every now and again for the sentimental value)

Burning Lungs - oxidize (Another unfinished fic, I remember that put me off from reading it for awhile. However when I finally did I got pretty invested, which left the cliffhanger on the last chapter all the more stinging. Hope the author is doin' well! Anyway, great fic, might go a bit overboard on the darker aspects of Mikan and Junko's backstories so be warned, but even with that in mind I enjoyed myself and find myself imagining the potential turns it could have taken. And watching Junko's feelings slow burn into existence was really pleasant, especially as her dynamic with Mikan continues)

School Life of Mutual Loving - MarySutcliff (A Compilation of various fics from various ships, 3 of which are Soft Junkan. I've only read the first two, but if you enjoy them I imagine the third will do something for you, the first chapter also, as far as my research can tell, is the first instance of Soft Junkan.) First Chapter Second Chapter Third Chapter

Queen of the Convenience Store - Orphan_Account (The one where Junko and Mikan do weed. I actually quit weed and went cold turkey about a week or two ago, but I do still enjoy seeing girls kissing while being high. even if i can't remember if they kiss in this oops)

A DR Oneshot from an Orphan_Account (It features a Hot Topic, my inner 2000s kid has to recc it)

The Threshold - character_studious (A Bit Dark, but a pleasant read!)

The Whirlwind Fashionista - Kaz3313 (Cute lil Non-Despair AU fic featuring a very cool mall! The ending also gets a chuckle out of me)

No Regrets - wait i made that one (I wasn't going to put this here initially however as a small spoiler, Day 50 of this project is directly based on this fic. I'm super mixed on how it turned out but hey maybe someone'll like it)

And that's it for now! I may or may not be forgetting a decent amount of fics even among the ones I've read before. And there's plenty I haven't even seen yet, and plenty more to be made overtime I imagine.

Your mileage may vary with a lot of these fics, but hopefully you'll find one that itches your brain good like they itch mine. And if not then I recommend just hitting the Junkan Tag running and see what you can find! Take a few risks and maybe you'll find something surprising.

Have a wonderful day and remember to stay hydrated!~

[fruitcoops]

Eeeek I am so excited to send in this request bcs I feel like it's one you could really do justice. (if you feel inspired that is. There's absolutely no pressure) but I was wondering if you'd be willing to write coops becoming more comfortable around each other? That's not the right word but just the constant butterflies sort of fading and instead realizing that love isn't all thrill it's sometimes a deep-seated love and being calm and comfy around your loved one? So like one of them doing something that used to cause butterflies and maybe sometimes does still bit it's the realization that you're so attuned to them you're used to it and love it and them?

Sorry this got really long and idk if it makes any sense or not. Anyway I love youuu and your writinggg it's such a source of comfort for me so thank you for doing what you do

Fluff in the wake of Vaincre! I think this is becoming a pattern. Though I, for one, am not complaining. Character credit goes to @lumosinlove, and Hazel, I am suing you for custody of my broken heart.

Sirius is washing the dishes and Remus puts a hand on his lower back without really thinking about it, slipping his palm beneath the hem of a Mickey Mouse t-shirt to rest over the bend of Sirius’ spine. His hand molds to the curve, fingertips on one dimple and heel of his palm on the other, thumb sliding along the lowest notch. Sirius hums and leans his head down to bonk Remus’ in a gentle greeting. They’re all small, thoughtless motions for a small, thoughtless night.

And it hits him.

The kitchen—theirs. The house—theirs. The neighborhood—theirs, where they wander after dinner sometimes or find well-traveled sidewalks to their new favorite shops and diners.

Sirius. His.

They’ve talked about moving, about kids, about after. What happens after hockey? Sirius can get through July now without growing antsy at the absence, but still, it’s taken almost a decade. A smaller house (a warmer house, a house that’s theirs) would be a good change. Not a rushed one, though. It seems there are endless hours to plan and look and comfortably explore.

Water sloshes over the marble countertop. They’ll never have to worry about money; not like Remus’ parents did. They’ll never be restricted by loans or debt or whatever neighborhood falls within budget. He came to Gryffindor marveling at an affordable single-bedroom apartment. It’s a habit he’s been trying to break on those late-night Zillow scrolls. They both love the cabin on the lake, but…

But maybe they’ll need the space.

Remus turns his head to kiss the curve of Sirius’ shoulder and sees him smile, capable hands working soap through a sponge. If they were a regular couple, he thinks—a different couple, he corrects—there might already be a new addition on the way. He can see the longing in Sirius’ eyes when they talk about it and feels the yank in his own chest at the thought. He’s wanted that since he was a child. It only grew more intense when Jules was born. It would make sense for them.

The things he’d do for a baby with Sirius’ eyes and his nose and, god, they can’t stop there, can they? The kid would need a sibling, wouldn’t they? A Regulus, a Julian, a James, a Lily that they could rely on and go headfirst with into the wonder of the world? Someone to lead, or someone to follow. To protect. Remus has never been the type to brainstorm baby names, but the amorphous dream is thrilling on its own.

Sirius makes a small noise in the back of his throat when a bubble pops and spatters Remus’ sleeve with soap. He’d be such a good dad, it’s not even funny. Remus can’t think about it too hard, or else he’ll start scrolling through PetFinder to find another dog to take the edge off.

He bites gently at Sirius’ bicep and feels him laugh, feels him swat at Remus’ hand with no real effort behind it. “Love you.”

“So you bite me?” Sirius snorts. “Weirdo.”

Remus exhales hard through his nose. “I want a baby.”

“Ouais, let me just run to CVS—”

Sirius’ snickering is not dulled by the light pinch to his ribs; Remus hides his grin in another bite. “I’m serious—”

“No, I am.”

“Oh my god,” he groans, turning away.

“Non, non, wait,” Sirius laughs. His arms wind around Remus’ waist and pull him close enough for Sirius to plant a kiss to his temple. It’s adorable, how careful he is to keep his sudsy hands out of the danger zone. He nuzzles into Remus’ cheek before straightening. “A baby. Yes. Absolutely. You know my thoughts on this.”

“I do,” Remus sighs. “And I know why it’s not a good idea right now. Still.”

“Still,” Sirius agrees. He sways them for a moment, then Remus feels a squeeze and the weight along his back is gone. The faucet flicks back on. “I want—” He presses his lips together, mouth twisting as he works it over in his thoughtful way. “I want to be there.”

Remus takes a clean towel from the drawer and begins to dry the plates. “I know.”

“And you’ll probably retire first, which is fine, but I want…” Sirius tips his head back and forth. Remus knows he’s running through their list again. The pros, the cons, the frustrating parts that they so desperately don’t want to deal with but have to anyway. Sirius scrubs at a bit of dried rice and scrunches his nose. “I want you to be there, too. Both of us. From the start.”

“I know.” It sucks. They might not have to scrape and save but time is not a resource hockey will spare them, and Remus is so grateful that Sirius takes that seriously. He meets Sirius where he is in their timeline. “I’ll retire. Take a break. I’ll go back to PT, probably faster than either of us think I will. You’ll decide when your last season is. We’ll put in an application—”

“—and by the time I’m done, we’ll have an idea of any possibility,” Sirius finishes, passing him a clean glass. They’ve repeated it so many times that it’s practically a mantra. Deep down, it gives Remus hope. The planning. It means there’s a chance. It means they’re on the same page all the way through. Sirius lets out a breath. “And then, maybe, we’ll have something concrete.”

Adoption, surrogacy…it doesn’t really matter. Both are such complicated webs of people and events and things entirely out of their control—Remus hates it, and he knows Sirius hates it more. He sets the towel down and moves to rest his forehead between Sirius’ shoulder blades, where his heartbeat keeps time against Remus’ skin. He winds his arms around Sirius’ waist and flattens his hand over Sirius’ belly to feel him breathe.

They have all options in the world, and yet it all feels much too big.

He spreads his feet a little when Sirius leans back. Measured inhales, pulse keeping a constant 60 beats-per-minute.

Remus laughs quietly.

“What?”

He shakes his head, kissing each curve of Sirius’ wingbones beneath his shirt.

“What?” Sirius presses.

“A year ago, if you grabbed me and pulled me back like that, I would have jumped your bones,” he says wryly, burying his grin in the bend of Sirius’ neck. “Listen to us, angsting about the future like a couple of old geezers.”

“Feel free to jump my bones, if you think your arthritic joints can handle it,” Sirius teases.

“I’m just saying—”

“Oh, Christ, I’m turning 29 in a year,” Sirius moans, tapping the water off with a flourish. “I’m dead. I’m dying. I am wasting away. Tell Celeste I love her—”

“We’re standing in the kitchen, washing the dishes, on a Friday night!” Remus protests. “Aren’t we supposed to be…I don’t know, going to a club or something?”

Sirius turns in the circle of his arms with a grave expression. “If we’re going out, I need to go rinse my dentures.”

Remus chooses to ignore that particular comment. “The cubs are probably raising hell and breaking hearts.”

“The cubs are extroverts.” Sirius cocks a brow. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you want to go out and get drunk with a bunch of sweaty strangers.”

He can’t help the wrinkling of his nose; the told-you-so satisfaction on Sirius’ face is fondly irritating enough that he reaches up to cover it with a loose hand. Sirius laughs and dodges him like always, biting a kiss to the side of his palm. “Anyway,” Remus prompts with a squeeze of his narrow hips. “I love you. Which was my whole point.”

“You had a point?”

“I always have a point.”

“That’s a stretch, but alright.”

“Our kitchen,” he says, tilting his chin up. “Our house, our neighborhood, our future.” A smirk pulls at his lips and he rubs his thumbs just beneath Sirius’ shirt. “Mine.”

“Yours,” Sirius murmurs around a smile. They might be getting old and married and boring, and Remus might finally be able to watch Sirius and his capable hands without going weak in the knees, but his kisses will send joy crashing through him forever and always. The future isn’t so big in the safety of a moment.

[dollcherray]

ㅤ ♡ NEW MAGIC WAND ♡

♡ Harley Quinn dating Cyn reader ⊹˚. ♡

₊⊹ Pst! Cherry says: I don't really do DC nor marvel characters because my acknowledge on the lore and the characters themselves are VERY limited, so i'm just throwing the very little things i know about them out the window here for y'all, and also because electiz is my homie and im opening an exception for them. (dab me up bitch) GUYS IM SO FUCKING NERVOUS POSTING THIS IM LITERALLY TURNING INTO JOKER HIMSELF, LAUGHING LIKE CRAZY CUZ IDK IF ITS GOOD, btw cannibalism mentions and killing overall.

₊⊹ Type: Headcanons, Romantic, Fluff

۶ৎ Song: New magic wand

۶ৎ Oh lord save us

۶ৎ Okay for starters, she is not scared of you, she's more amused than anything, i mean, you both have personalities that are similar in a way, you're both chaotic, you're both very sarcastic, so it wouldn't take long for you two to get along.

۶ৎ Harley is the only person that gets you and your point of view, since you're both "psychopaths" in a way, this makes you have similar views, so whenever you just blurt out one of your psychopathic thought shes like: "me too brah, me too."

۶ৎ While alot of people finds you an absolute freak, Harley is just there admiring you causing chaos and pain, she thinks your just so cute! she can't help it.

۶ৎ Harley thinks you're cute as a whole, your voice, the way you move, your hand habits, your personality, and even the funny way you tear apart and torture your victims in an excruciating way, she thinks there's a little charm when you do it.

۶ৎ The worst thing that happened to Gotham was when you two got acquainted, both of you were already a big hassle alone, so the amount of damage and chaos that is caused when you two step outside is too much.

۶ৎ Doesn't really mind your cannibalistic desires, i mean, it's a little too much even for her but she understands its either that or you die from hunger, just don't do it infront of Harley and its fine.

۶ৎ But sometimes Harley thinks you can go a bit over the lid whenever you kill someone, she knows how deranged and aggressive you can be but its kind of too much even for her, so from time to time she has to remind you to not exaggerate.

۶ৎ Your relationship with her is not bad at all, since you two are pretty much insane and unapologetic, you rarely have any type of conflicts or disagreements with her.

۶ৎ She likes to dress you up, we all know Harley loves wearing colorful and extravagant clothes, but the problem is your totally the opposite, often opting for dark and less flashy clothes, so its very expected for Harley to offer to dress you up (please say yes.)

۶ৎ Likes seeing you covered in blood, thinks you look prettier with it <3

A/N: sorry if this is corny, i dont usually write for this fandom, i did this as a gift for my friend- anyway have a good day <3