#many ideas but so hard to start writing them i feel like i'm burn out TT___TT need to get this of the drafts tho

[captain-huggy-bear]

Big requests/full fic/big idea requests are closed at the moment but drabble and prompt requests are still open. Writing Masterlist

You're shoving rolls of socks and various coloured and patterned ties into his roadie bag when he finds you. Ties that he's never seen before, socks that he knows weren't anywhere near his roadie bag. There's a sort of intent, focused look on your face like this has a level of importance that he couldn't possibly understand.

"Baby, what are you doing?" You look up briefly, only enough to see him leaning against the door frame, sweatpants slung low on his hips, hood of his hoodie thrown up over his head. No fucking socks. Like that man has an aversion to them...which is fine, you tell yourself, it's fine in the house, it's fine on a beach, it's not fine in his goddamn shoes when he's wearing a suit.

"Your packing."

"I'm already packed..." He's certain he got everything done, his suit is hanging up ready to go in its dry cleaning bag, his toiletries the only things left to collect in the morning.

"Clay, 1 tie and no socks is not packing." You roll your eyes at him and it's in that moment that he fully grasps that you're annoyed about it, that somehow his singular tie has irritated you. You, who put up with the long weeks away, the late nights, the schedule that interferes with family events and plans.

"Why do I need more than 1 tie?"

"Because variety is the spice of life and if I see one more picture of you in the same grey suit with the same blue tie I am going to burn that tie." You have such a tight grip on the blue tie in question that Clay briefly wonders if you'll burn it anyway, a level of animosity for a piece of clothing he's never seen before.

"Okay, okay, fine...multiple ties, baby, but the socks?" He's closing the gap between you, pocking at the pile of socks you've put in his bag, more than enough, maybe even too many for the 5 game roadie he's going on.

"You need to wear socks with a suit, I swear to God, Clayton" You snatch back a pair of socks he's pulled from the bag, shoving them back into place like he might be undoing all your hard work.

"Why?" He feels a little stupid asking, like a little boy, but he doesn't get it. Plenty of the guys don't wear socks when they wear a suit, they're wearing sneakers most of the time, it's not really a necessity. Just more things to take on a trip when he wanted to take the bare minimum.

"Clay, it's just...you just have to." You don't know how to explain that socks were just something you wore with a suit, that his ankles needed to be covered. Mostly because you felt like you were starting to sound like a Victorian gentleman obsessed with someone's ankles.

"But..." He stops at the way you breathe out a big sigh. He can tell you're trying to not be irrationally irritated or angry, that you're trying to explain and make him understand why it bothers you without being rude about it.

"Clay, do you want to marry me one day?"

"Of course I do, baby." He's reaching for you like the question itself draws him to you, to hold you, to be reassured that you're still there with him. Clay's hands falling to your hips as he rounds the bed, fingers pressing into you to make sure you're not going anywhere.

"Then you need to wear socks with your suits because if I turn up at that aisle and you're not? I'm rescheduling." Your tone is lighter now, more joking and it eases some of the tension in his shoulders as he starts to form a smile. Socks seeming like a small price to pay for you.

"Not running to Tasmania or something?"

"No, rescheduling until you put on some socks." You're joking, but you also mean it. You can't explain why it matters so much that he wears socks with his suits, just that it does...a little detail that feels like it's vital even though in reality it's really not.

"Okay...socks with the suit, got it."

"I'm doing this because I love you."

He sighs heavily even as he's grinning down at you and the way you wrap your arms around his neck, "I love you too, baby."

[fixyourwritinghabits]

I tend to feel like I'm taking way too long to write things and end up stopping or even starting from scratch because I feel like I'm overthinking it all. Do you have any tips for this?

I often feel frustrated when I feel like I'm not making process, but there are a lot of people who have been in that boat, and there are ways to overcome it.

Chunk your goals. It's fairly easy to make unrealistic goals when writing. If you keep blowing your writing goals, you're likely setting the bar much higher than you should be. Don't beat yourself up for it - many writing professionals settle for 300-600 words a day as a goal. If you're struggling with that, 250 words is a good easy pace to set to start with.

Track your goals. Look, here's what I do. I break my project down to scenes (or outline goals when planning it), I make a big chart of all those scenes, and I give myself a fun sticker for each scene I finish. It's hugely motivating and a great wall to still work on your story without writing. You can make a spreadsheet or use a gamification app, but finding a fun way to reward yourself for making progress can keep you going.

Have deadlines (within reason). Deadlines are great, but also DON'T SET UNREALISTIC DEADLINES. "I will finish a novel in a month" is an insane goal done for the sport of it and cannot be sustained all year long. "I will finish three scenes this week" is a much more realistic goal that you can adjust up and down the following week. Don't give yourself a goal you will beat yourself up for missing.

Give yourself a day off (or two). Something I've learned the hard way is that I have to force myself some downtime to keep my creativity from burning out. The advice of "write every day" is, most people agree, not that helpful in the long run. Give yourself a day to relax - or two days, if you spend one of them being too busy to relax. Resting is hugely helpful for the writing process.

Don't get it right, get it done. The biggest barrier you will face is the desire to get it right the first go around. You gotta listen to me on this - the first draft is shit. It's supposed to be shit. Your first and foremost goal is to get from start to end. It doesn't matter how many "fix this later" notes you have to leave yourself. It doesn't matter if you have to write "somehow they get to the village" even if you have no idea how. I promise you that you will figure that out later. Just get it done.

None of these steps are easy to do all at once, so take your time. If you find that you just can't make progress, do some other creative outlet to keep thinking about your story. Color code your outline by character and goal (and if you don't have an outline, that's a great thing to fall back onto making when stuck). Create a playlist for your story. Info-dump self-indulgent tangents about your characters. Ease yourself into a process that works for you!

[slightly-knot-insane]

can you write an imagine where the orc chieftain takes notice of fem!reader after they raided a village and he starts courting her in ways she's not familiar so she's just ignoring him. he got annoyed with the ignoring, so one night, he got so drunk and ended up at her place, he saw her, just finished taking a shower, towel wrapped on her body, he started mumbling how annoyed he is and she just stares at him. then in the middle of it, throws up and ended up sleeping at her couch. she let him, but gets uneasy knowing the chieftain is just outside her room. she approaches her in the middle of the night and starts touching his form. he wakes up, grabs her hand and kisses her. then he confesses his feeling and he ended up railing her so hard she wakes up with bruised cervix. plsss help a girl out

a/n: Thank you for the ask! You sent me this 5 months ago when I was really burned out from monstertober, and I'm very sorry TAT

Lost in Translation

[ m!orc x fem!reader ]

content: nsfw, enemies to lovers (kinda), kidnapping, fingerfucking, humping, oral (male receiving), p in v

You had ZERO intention of getting involved with the orcs that pillaged through your town. How could you? They stole everything, they destroyed so many things, they ate everything they found edible. Luckily, they didn't murder anyone. But they did take a few village women with them. Including you. And they've treated you surprisingly well. All of you have lovely and cozy cottages to live there by yourselves. Locked for most of the day and night, of course. Comfortable as it was, you were still their prisoner.

Apparently, this kidnapping thing was a yearly event: this orc clan would take women, make them housewives or something similar, and then let them go if they were unhappy with that way of life. Some human women stayed with their orc 'husbands' even after being freed, and they all seemed... happy?

But you were not! You were taken away from your family, from your cats, and from your books. You never wanted this! Those other women were probably brainwashed! You can never be happy again!

To make things worse, the young chieftain - the one who led the raid - has been acting so weird around you. He was very tall and strong with long, dark green hair tied in a ponytail. Evidently very handsome. But brutish! He would often approach you and bring you animal hides and bloodied blades. One time, he brought you a huge bone and showed a deep scar on his chest. You wanted to ask him if he needed any help, but reminded yourself that you hate him. One time, he got into your face and grunted. His tusks were not the longest in his clan, but surely the shiniest and sharpest, and he was probably trying to terrify you. You didn't let him, so you grunted back. Unfortunately, he seemed pleased with that.

One evening, there was a celebration of sorts in the village center. Even though the orc chieftain wanted you there, using his mediocre knowledge of the human tongue and his arms to explain himself, you refused. He left in a foul mood, slamming the door behind him, locking it. What a preposterous idea - you to join him? Instead, you decided to take a bath and perhaps weave something to pass your time.

Once you finish cleaning and pampering your body, still wrapped in a soft towel, you hear fumbling on the other side of the door. With a loud clank of the key finally turning the correct way, the chieftain almost falls into your cottage. He is disheveled, breathing heavily, and appearing almost feverish as his eyes dart all over your figure. Noticing his state, you take a step back, looking for a weapon.

He lifts his finger and points at you. "Why are you so difficult? You... you..." He is slurring. Is he drunk? "You don't like me. Why? I give you presents, I give you a nice house, I am patient. Why don't you like me?"

You cock an eyebrow, unsure what to think of his rant.

He tries to straighten his back, but his legs fail him a bit. "Tell me what to do. Don't just be angry. I want you to like..."

With a small burp, he slaps both of his hands over his mouth and runs toward your bathroom where he throws up into the toilet. You close the door to give him some privacy and quickly get dressed. It took some time for the retching to stop, and the orc chieftain finally leaves your bathroom looking absolutely horrible.

"I'm sorry." He looks genuinely apologetic. "I will clean later... Please, can I lie down? My head hurts."

He looks at the floor, ashamed as a child, and you just can't say no. You let him lie down your couch and give him a blanket. His huge form can't fit the furniture intended for humans, so his feet still touch the ground and one of his arms is almost completely on the floor. But he falls asleep almost immediately.

You go to your bedroom and try to focus on anything but a huge orc snoring on your couch. And how awkward and endearing he looked while apologizing.

You wake in the middle of the night to the sounds of cleaning and flushing from your bathroom. The idea of an orc chieftain - the same one that smashed through your house and kidnapped you - now cleaning your bathroom, confuses you, to say the least. What a strange life you're leading now. Eventually, he finishes, but doesn't leave as you expected. He places his heavy form on the couch again and quickly goes back to snoring.

You can't fall asleep again, and not just because of the loud orkish breathing coming from the next room. You have to admit to yourself, the chieftain looked rather dashing when he entered your house, despite how distraught he was at the same time. And he didn't do anything to you, even though you were very naked and vulnerable at that moment. He wanted you to like him.

Unable to relax, tortured by conflicting emotions, you stand up and quietly exit your bedroom. The snoring isn't as loud as before, but the young orc chieftain is lying splayed all over the tiny couch. He is shirtless now, and the blanket you gave him slipped onto the floor. You approach him, biting your lower lip. He is rather attractive - in a very dangerous and ruggish way. You've always wondered if his hair is soft or rough like the rest of him.

You sit on the floor and scoot closer to his long hair, pooled at the base of the couch. You take one green strand and notice how firm it is, but not unhealthy. The chieftain is still sleeping, softly snoring, and his fingers twitch. He must be in deep sleep, you think to yourself. Probably still too drunk to be aware of anything.

You succumb to your daring idea of touching him and trail your finger along his veiny forearm. He doesn't move. You must be quite mad to do this, but you place your palm on his toned chest, feeling his warm heartbeat. You blush, thinking how big and powerful he is. How easily he carried you over his shoulder. How— What on earth are you thinking about? He is your enemy, he is—

He grabs your wrist, the one on his chest, and you gasp. His eyes are wide open, dimly glowing.

"I-I didn't mean anything, I—" you start, but he interrupts you by pulling you on top of him and kissing you. His tusks frame your cheeks perfectly, and you just can't move anywhere, completely surrounded by his massive muscles.

Not that going anywhere even crossed your mind. His kiss is gentle, warm, and surprisingly light. He pecks your lips and cheeks and moans from what sounds like pure pleasure. You let him, enjoying it quite a bit yourself.

"I like you," he eventually says. "I like you very much. I want to make you happy. Let me give you happiness."

Still dazed from his kisses, you look at him, unsure of what to reply. Maybe you even smile. But then the rational part of you hits you in the guts. "Happiness? You want to give back what you took from me? How dare you talk of happiness?"

Hurt and shock distort his face. "I... What..."

"You destroyed my home, scared my cats and parents, and brought me here. You took my happiness!" You are almost shouting at this point.

"I'm sorry. That's what orcs do. I will bring your cats if that'll make you happy."

You wipe away your tears. "And my books?" He nods, holding you firmly as if he's afraid you'll run away. "And you will fix my house?"

"This is your house now," he says in a most gentle tone, but there is a firm note that emphasizes how non-negotiable this fact is.

"Okay, my parents' house. And you will apologize to them!"

"Yes, anything you say. Don't cry. Just let me make you happy."

You feel a bulge pressing between your legs. The size of it is significant, and you have been curious about it since he started kissing you. But another thing was still on your mind.

"And why did you do all those awful things?" you snap. "Why did you bring me all those furs and hides, and why did you growl in my face?"

The orc chieftain's eyes bulged. "Awful? Those were gifts! And I didn't growl at you, I was showing you my teeth! How growing and sharp they are. So that you see how dangerous I am. How I can protect everyone."

You frown. "You were... flirting with me?"

"I'm..." A deep green blush covers his cheeks. "I'm not sure what that word means. But I wanted you to like me. I am learning human language too. So that I can talk with you. So that I can tell you I like you."

He caresses your cheek and glides his finger across your lower lip. A tender expression melts his scarred face and you have to admit you are not against the idea of him flirting with you anymore. Or doing something even more.

You push your body forward so that you can kiss him. He seems surprised, but soon his embrace tightens around your back so much you have to squeal. You both laugh, and your kiss deepens. His tongue pushes inside your mouth and you welcome it, tasting it and sucking it. Very soon the orc chieftain starts growling or purring underneath you and he jerks his hips upwards so that he could rub his cock against any part of you he can reach.

"I must have you," he whispers, "now."

He lifts your body so that he can rip your nightgown off of you and push his massive hand inside your underwear to grope your ass. "So soft. Perfect."

As his finger finds your holes and rubs them, you hump his firm abs underneath you. You got wet quickly, and that doesn't escape him. With a smirk, he pushes his finger inside your cunt. "Need to stretch you out for my cock, my little wife."

"Yes," you huff, thinking how cute it is to be called little wife. You clit throbs while you push it against his hot skin, feeling his every scar against your sensitive bundle.

He pushes another of his thick fingers, and you moan against his neck.

"No need to hide yourself. I want to hear you. I want my whole clan to hear how I make you happy." And he does everything to make you loud. Pushing his fingers in and out, very slowly, stretching you out for him - yes, he makes you very happy, and you push your torso up and your groin more firmly against his, whimpering as much as your body asks you to. He is smiling, eagerly praising you, before taking one of your nipples between his teeth. He rolls his tongue around it, sparking jolts of intense delight.

"Oh, I'm gonna... I'm gonna..." You can't even finish before your pussy clenches around his fingers, releasing the wave of pleasure through yoru core. The orc growls happily and bites your tit harder, not stopping fingerfucking your pussy.

Once the waves slow down and become less intense, he picks you up and takes you into your bedroom. "The couch is too small for what I want to do to you."

You tremble from his words but your cunt leaks more hearing his words. He places you on your bed and removes his pants. Seeing his thick green cock with a deep purple tip firm and ready for you, gets your mouth watering. You are already on your fours sucking it, and the orc draws air through his teeth. "Fuck... You want to make your husband happy, do you?"

You just mm-hm with your mouth full of his delicious cock and you try your best to lick it and suck it all over, and every moan that comes from chieftains mouth is a little victory for you.

"Stop!" he roars and pushes you against the bed. "I don't want to cum in your mouth... right now. Later, yes. I want to fuck your cunt now."

He lies on top of you, spreading your legs, his massive form trapping you. He finds your core with his finger and, noticing you are just as wet as before, he smiles and kisses you again. Just as he pushes his tongue betwen your teeth, he places the tip of his cock against your entrance. He moves slowly, prodding and stretching you, and you whimper into his mouth.

And then he shifts, positioning himself lower, and, with a low grunt, he penetrates you completely. You yelp, slight pain ruining the moment, but as soon as he slides in and out, all the pain is gone. You both moan into each other's mouths and necks, sweat emerging on your foreheads. His hands cup your ass and he thrusts his cock all the way in. "Fuck..." he groans. "Fuck you are so tight... Nnnggh..."

You whimper and moan as his massive cock takes all of you, pounding your cunt. You are so loud, so loud, you are sure the whole village can hear you. But you don't care. You hug your orc husband around his broad back and push your needy pussy further against him, working together to reach what you both need the most.

***

You are not sure how long you two slept, but it was noon when you woke up next to the orc chieftain. He is lying on his stomach, one of his arms thrown over your stomach. It is hard to breathe, but that pain is the least of your problems. You are covered in hikeys and bites and your cunt hurts so much. But it was all worth it.

"Are you ready to get your books and cats, my little wife?" His voice startles you a bit. He is a light sleeper - you need to remember that.

"And to apologize to my parents" you add.

"Anything you say. Just teach me how to say it properly. I don't want to make them angry. Well... angrier."

"Just don't bring any bones," you say, and kiss the tip of his nose.

[sugarygetoo]

red.

-> pairing: rengoku kyojuro x fem! reader.

-> summary: kyojuro once loved red.

-> cw/ tw:  major character death, mentions of demons (duh!), blood, mentions of torture(?),

-> wc: 1.6k (i'm cooking so hard at 3 in the morning omg)

-> an. supriseeeeee i told you guys i was coming back with an angst this came to me while driving back home from a bbq party (i wasn't driving) so i really don't know what that says about me lmao

i lowkey just pulled this one out of my ass lmao, i have so many noted down ideas i need to write and i decided to write one that i came up with on a whim...

also, call me a sadist but i love when people comment about how they feel about my works, like i love it when they tell me how sad it is like yessss sufferrrr <3333

!! this fictional work contains many descriptions of blood, please proceed with caution, we as creators are not responsible for the content you choose to consume!!

main masterlist. | kimetsu no yaiba masterlist.

✎ xoxo, yena

kyojuro loves the color red.

it was a beautiful color, with meanings just as beautiful to go along with it.

a fiery red burns with passion. it’s bright and bold, always standing out from a crowd. it was a color that was made to make the person wearing it shine. like how his hair and eyes were always drawing people’s attention. 

a soft red, or some might know it as pink, carries gentle feelings — feelings, like love and “home”. it was a color that made kyojuro think about you. you whom he loves with every atom in his body.

red has always reminded kyojuro of you. 

you, who is forever always so lovely and shone ever so beautifully in his eyes. you, who engraved her every existence into the deepest parts of his very soul. you, who always whispers sweet nothings into his ears after a long day of work, telling him how much you’ve missed him and how proud you were of him and his accomplishments. you, who always burned with passion and kindness, like a flame that refuses to die down in the rain. you were home to kyojuro in every sense of the way, from your sweet, sweet words to your lingering kisses,  you were always so perfect in kyojuro’s eyes.

kyojuro had always loved the color red on you.

it was a color that was crafted to perfectly suit you. from the way it compliments your features to the way it made you shine brighter than anyone else around. red was a color that suited you like nothing else.

kyojuro loved the color red.

red, that reminded kyojuro of the time he brought you to a field of roses, where you smiled like a child and let out laughter coming from the deepest parts of your heart. where you kissed him and he was able to taste your favorite strawberry lip balm. where you stuck a rose behind his ear, thanking him for bringing you here while he sat and stared at you as the sun hit your back making you look like an angel that was sent from the heavens above to take him away (and he’d let you).

red, that reminded him of the time he proposed to you with a ring that was encrusted with a red gem similar to the color of his eyes on it. it reminds him of the way your eyes turned into a soft red as tears gathered in your eyes, as your soft pink lips start to tremble and a small gasp leaves you. the way you ignored the expensive jewelry and threw yourself onto him while he was on his knees, where you knocked the both of you over, sending both of you to the ground, the way your warm tears flowed out of your eyes and lands on his face, your soft, gentle lips leaves kissed all over his face. starting from his eyes, then to his forehead, then his cheeks, his nose, his chin, then finally, his lips. it reminds him of the way you replied to his question with a breathless yes after a breathtaking kiss. 

red, that reminds kyojuro of the carefully handcrafted wedding dress that the two of you were choosing. how it fitted around you like a second layer of skin. how the colors brought out your features and made them shine. it reminded him of how excited you were to pick out the dress that you were to wear in a few weeks time, how you would spend hours upon hours choosing between two shades of red (that he couldn’t tell the difference of), then decided to try them both on, only to pick a third option. it reminded him of you asking him for his opinion only to dismiss it as the only reply he could come up with was “you look beautiful in anything, my love” (which was true in his eyes).

kyojuro loved red.

red, that was the color of passion. the color that reminded kyojuro of himself so much. it was the color of the tips of his hair —  his hair that looked like the brightest of flames. it was also the color of his eyes. his eyes that always shone with pride and passion. eyes that you loved kissing and staring into. eyes, that you loved complimenting, always comparing them to the sun. 

“they’re the most beautiful pair of eyes i’ve ever seen. they remind me of the sun, kyojuro. they always shine so bright, even in the darkest times. they remind me of hope, of longing, your eyes give me strength, my love. you are the sun in my life, my light.” 

kyojuro once loved the color red.

red, that was the color meaning of danger, a color that was bright like a warning to those who sees it. red that meant anger and violence. it was a color that he sees often when he is sent out on missions. from red ornaments thrown around a house to red clothing scattered and in tatters, red was never a good sign. if anything, red always meant something was wrong.

red, that was the color of blood. a color that kyojuro often see while doing his job. it was a color that often stained his sword and clothing, making it hard to wash out. it was a color that kyojuro often hoped to never find while searching for a demon for if it was evident, it never meant good for the people that was once near the area. 

red was a color that kyojuro dislike while working.

red, that was the only thing that he could see. red that burns in his eyes, as his breath grows heavier and heavier and his world begins to move slower and slower. his eyes felt as if they were burning and he cannot feel anything. in the far distance, he could make out muffled voices and sounds of swords clashing, but he couldn’t move.

red, like the blood that came out from the multiple wounds that the demon sustained. the wounds that kyojuro himself tortuously carved into the demon’s body. red, that stained his clothing, his uniform and the haori that you painstaking made for him. he remembers every word you’ve said as clear as day, “here, my love, a gift from me.” you’d then help him put it on, layer it comfortably on top of his demon slayer uniform “i hope this haori can protect you, whether that’s warding the demons away from you or to protect you from the rain, i hope this haori can remind you of me”. kyojuro can only continue his attacks towards the demon, each swing of the blade planned carefully to never hurt the demon to much to the point of killing it. kyojuro wanted it to suffer.

red, like the color that sprouted from your body, staining the otherwise spotless white dress that you were adorning. you were on the ground, turned over, your stomach on the ground with your back facing him. you were unmoving as he closed his distance, his steps getting heavier and heavier as he got closer and closer.

from where he was standing, he could see you as you laid on the floor, your body unmoving as he called out to you.

“y/n?” he’d call out ever so softly, as if he was afraid you’d wake. “i’m back, my love.”

as he crouched down, and laid his hands on your shoulder, he could feel his breath leaving his body. you were so, so cold. he turned you over and—

all he could see was red.

red. 

red. 

red.

red, like the color that stained your white dress.

red, that dripped from your arm as kyojuro picked you up from the ground, that stained the floor of your shared home, that made the mansion smell like rust and metal.

red, that was the color of the flowers outside of his home, the roses, the poppies, the chrysanthemums, and the spider lilies. the color that dripped from your lips onto the white lilies that were planted closest to the porch, tinting them forever.

red, that dripped onto kyojuro, that still had some lingering warmth. 

red, that tinted kyojuro’s lips as he kissed you ever so carefully, from your closed eyes to your forehead, then your cheeks, your nose, your neck, then carefully, he kissed your lips. they were bright shades of red, like the lipstick that was gifted to you from mitsuri but rarely used since you didn’t think it looked good on you. your lips no longer tasted like the strawberry lip balm that you loved using, but instead tasted of rust and metal, a taste that kyojuro knows he will never be able to forget.

red, like the gem on the ring that was left on your  finger, that was stained with your blood. the gem shines against the moonlight as kyojuro could do nothing but hold you closer to him, cradling your head into his neck as he rocks the two of you back and forth, his eyes watering as he hums a tone you once loved. 

as the sun rises, kyojuro kisses your forehead again, then lifts your lifeless hand to his lips as he kisses the cold ring left on your finger, a promise to you for revenge. he closes his eyes as the first ray of light enters his eyes, the sun finally showing itself to kyojuro. 

tears finally fall, as he realizes that you are gone. that you’ve gone to the moon to join the stars and he was left in this world as your sun, to be damned to shine alone.

kyojuro kisses you one last time, as he could no longer contain his sobs of sadness.

kyojuro hates red.

@ sugarygetoo, all rights reserved.

[centrally-unplanned]

Alright, last Current Events Drama post, is not a super valuable activity after all. I have seen a lot of Discourse that goes like "I may oppose these efforts but man the PR strategy of this Musk thing is pretty genius, they have a whole generation of people thinking USAID was funding the Liberal Media now". And they certainly aren't without agency, I agree there is an intentional PR strategy going on. In particular it is not just the creation of narrative, but the creation of momentum - every day is a new discovery, a new victory, a sense of progress.

But this isn't really that hard when your supporters are just really stupid? Like you can make shit up for these people! They don't care, they don't have that instinct that goes "okay hold up I'm going to need to see some sources here". The current Admin didn't make that happen, that is a deep, structural change around the internet flattening hierarchies and all that shit. When you know your audience wants results and also you can just invent results out of thin air then, idk, is this that hard? How could you not deliver that?

It is funny because the actual playbook here isn't even their invention, it is the same as the 2010's "Woke Boom". That entire model was that deep, slow, technical solutions to structural inequalities achieved via grinding electoral politics is boring. That shit is for fucking losers. I am not gonna have a role in that all! So instead we will achieve social change via randomly harassing my progressive coworkers for their black comedy tweets about AIDS until they get fired and have a nervous breakdown. Obviously - just like with the current right, don't be tricked! - there was another side of this movement that was much more serious, a huge side actually (we are just focusing right now). But for so many that serious side was window dressing, the real mush was that you got to feel like you were a part of something, doing something, and at a certain point they started running the show. This playbook being reversed really isn't that impressive (and also, in a sense, inevitable)

I will give the Social Justice aggros though that they had some standards - passing around photoshopped tweets was uncommon. Most of them did actually believe in this model for change (and so invented insane ideologies to justify it, but w/e). That isn't really as true on the right - I should partially walk back my statement above, a lot of these people aren't that gullible? They are just apathetic. So many people retweeting stuff about how The Deep State funnels millions to Politico don't really even care, for them it is a game. It is funny to own the libs. They laugh off your attempts at calling them out for accuracy - you care about that? What a cuck you are.

Which makes it particularly sad when you see the earnest ones, the ones writing essays about the implications of what USAID propping up the New York Times means for our political future. Nothing worse than being a true believer in a church where not only the leaders but also your fellow congregants know it is bullshit.

It reminds me of the Gamestop Meme Stock Crash and its slow, agonizing burn (a not unrelated event!). A bunch of people on the rise of the stock created the idea that buying Gamestop could Stick It To The Man, you could short squeeze the hedge funds, diamond-hands-hold that yield, bring Wall St to its knees - to the moon, baby. And some people bought it! And then the wheel turned, the crash happened, and most of the people posting those memes sold their stock and dipped so fast they had disappeared from the subreddits before they could even begin to say "bro, you thought I was serious?". Leaving a stalwart few holding the bag, spinning epicycles of conspiracy theories to justify why they had it to begin with. Which happens on autopilot a this point. You don't really need any PR strategy to make this happen.

[hitomisuzuya]

HEEEY ITS ME AGAIN !!!!!

I have have never made an ask, it's my first time sooooo,,, could I ask for student council president scara with a student causing trouble? (smut >:))

(I saw it on character Ai and thought it was a good idea but feel free to ignore <3)

THANK YOU SMM 🖤

Student Council President Scaramouche. Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Fingering. Orgasm denial. Smut written not sober.

Sorry this took my so long to write. I have been wanting to write something like this for awhile now 😳

"How many times?" Scaramouche asked, raising an eyebrow at you as he tilted your head so his eyes were boring into yours, "How many times have you caused me trouble this week?" He dipped his fingers between your sopping folds, his finger wagging teasingly on your clit.

Your wrists were held together above your head. You were on your knees on Scaramouche's bed, naked, with your legs spread and your drooling cunt on display. The look in your eyes couldn't have gotten more adoring. "T-Three," You stuttered, rolling your hips into his finger as you moaned.

He smirked, giving your clit a harsh pinch, your hips bucking into his fingers in a knee jerk reaction to the sudden burst of pleasure. "How many times until I let you cum?" He continued, wagging another finger on your rapidly swelling clit.

"Three," You answered, the word bleeding into a moan, feeling your heart beat speed up from the threat.

His hand tightened on your wrists, his indigo eyes glinting with lust as he soaked his fingers in your slick. "You are looking forward to my fingers stuffing your cunt full, aren't you?" He taunted. His teased his fingertips against the entrance of your weeping cunt.

Scaramouche laughed when you nodded eagerly. "You won't be when you are crying and begging me to cum," He grit his teeth as he plunged a single finger inside of you. Your cunt sucking in his index finger made him painfully hard.

You saw stars as Scaramouche pumped his finger in and out of you, hooking it slowly over your sweet spot. Your body spasmed in bliss as mewls keened from your throat. His finger was already expertly building up your orgasm.

"Aww, you are gonna cum already?" He taunted, pounding his finger inside of you until your walls clamped nice and tight around it. His eyes were trained on every moment of your body, watching for signs you were about to cum.

You were panting by the time he ruined your first orgasm, your cunt clenching around nothing when he pulled his finger out of you. He flicked your clit teasingly, making your clit throb with the need for release.

Scaramouche teased two fingers on your clit before bullying them inside of you, scissoring your walls apart as he continued to assault your cunt. Your body jerk in pleasure as you eagerly bucked your hips into his fingers. You knew your second orgasm was going to get ruined, but his fingers stretching you out felt too good for you not to fall apart on them.

"Please..I'm..sorry.." You moaned, tears burning in your eyes as the knot of your second orgasm curled tighter than the first, "I promise I'll be a good girl," It was clear from the look in his eyes that he was fingering you for his pleasure, not yours.

"Then be a good girl and cry for me," Scaramouche taunted further, slamming his fingers into your sweet spot before denying you an orgasm that would've made your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your sob was exquisite.

Scaramouche swiped your tears away with his thumb, licking it as he smirked at you. "Have you learned your lesson yet?" He asked, abruptly plunging three fingers inside of you. He drove them to the knuckle inside of you, dropping your wrists as you started to struggle against his grip.

He smacked your hand away when you wrapped it around his wrist to urge his fingers deeper inside of you. "Rub your clit, and remember," He gripped your chin to make your look at him, "if you cum, we are starting over."

His cock throbbed and strained in his jeans, watching your fingers sensually and needily rubbing your clit to please him. It didn't take him long to have you sobbing moaning while you writhed, bucking your hips into your fingers and his.

"Please, please get it over with," You pleaded, drool rolling from the corner of your mouth, "so I can..Ah! Ah!..cum on your fingers," You could barely form coherent words, your brain going fuzzy as your third impending orgasm approached.

Scaramouche smacked your hand away from your clit after he ruined your orgasm again. He licked his fingers before pushing you down on the bed.

Trapping your wrists above your head again, he flicked his tongue over your hardened nipples. "You sound so sweet that I think I'll play with your nipples until you almost cum again. We have other weeks to make up for."

[tozettastone]

Maddie & Hidan fic, NOT the one I was meant to be working on. Takes place about five years after they first meet in Deadbeat.

I do not have any idea if this is "canon" to Maddie's story! I just thought it was fun to write when I couldn't sleep yesterday.

Notes: Hidan POV, contains dismemberment. Maybe I'll stick it on AO3 later?

----

Hidan had no idea how long he'd been stuck here.

He was buried alone in the dark, in pieces.

It was cold underground. The chucks of rock beneath which he was buried were heavy and the dirt that trickled between them was so close he had to spit it out.

His wounds hurt at first, which was a good thing, because Hidan was very practiced at focusing on pain to the exclusion of all else. His devotions demanded it. So at first he was in insistent, nagging agony, and he prayed about it. When his voice wore out he prayed in his head. And then when it recovered again, he prayed aloud some more.

At first he could count time by his prayers, too. But then soon he began to second guess them: had he really counted ten cycles of prayer, or only nine, or five, or three hundred?

It was so cold. The earth sapped the heat from his broken limbs.

How long could it possibly take Kakuzu to finish his fight and come dig him up?

Time dilated into eternity.

And then the places where Hidan's body was dismembered began to go numb. There was no more pain, just a wretched, drowning exhaustion that dragged him under like a riptide.

He slept. He woke up cold. He prayed. He slept again.

He slept a lot.

When he woke, a little more of him was numb each time. The nerves were dead. Without fuel to burn in its holy fire, even Hidan's immortal body was flagging.

When he couldn't feel his body at all and he thought he was actually going mad, something moved overhead.

His eyes rolled up in his decapitated head, as though he could see through the rocks and tiny air pockets and loose sandy dirt to discover what was going on up there.

It might just be a deer. He was rubbish at sensing chakra signatures. For the past six years, that had been Kakuzu's job.

It wasn't a deer, though: the movements remained, muddling around above, and then they became dogged and determined. Eventually light began to leak on through the rocks.

Freedom arrived with the methodical sound of a shovel, stabbing away at the dirt until it hit rock.

Scrabbling hands heaved the rocks out, one by one. Light poured down upon him at last, and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly against the blistering radiance of the sun.

It was like a physical thing on his skin, dazzling down through the forest leaves, even though he'd thought there was no more feeling left.

"Fuck, Kakuzu, it took you long enough," Hidan croaked.

"Sorry," said a voice that was definitely not Kakuzu's. It was breathless and trembling and hard to place. A girl? "I couldn't sense — I didn't realise — lord, I thought there was more t— never mind that." The voice finished mine of these sentences. "Oh my god, you're in so many pieces. Christ, is that what gangrene looks like? Hidan, oh my god, what do I do?"

He squinted. "Maddie?"

"That's me."

"Maddie?"

"Yeah. Last rock, hangon." She pulled off a chunk of stone with some effort. Hidan didn't feel the change in pressure.

It wasn't like she was the last person he could imagine offering him help. But she did live across the other side of the country. And Fire Country was big.

"Where's Kakuzu?"

"I don't know," she said, high and aggrieved. "I have to find him next."

"Okay, okay, shit, don't start crying. We'll find him."

"I'm not crying," she hissed, sounding an awful lot like someone who was crying. "What do I do? Fuck, the deer are, like — I don't know what they're doing but I don't like their chakra."

Oh, the deer. Yeah.

"Just get me out of here."

"Like... in a... bag?"

"Yeah?"

"Fuck. Um. Okay," said Maddie, and then she disappeared for an indeterminate amount of time, during which Hidan may or may not have lost consciousness, and came back with a sack.

She just started loading pieces of him in. Her face was crinkled around the eyes and tense in the jaw. The older she got, the less baby fat cushioned her face and the more she looked like Kakuzu.

"This is foul. Hidan, what if I miss a piece?"

Given the number of pieces he'd been buried in, she was virtually guaranteed to miss something. "It'll grow back. Just pick up the main bits and go."

Maddie took him at his word and commenced cramming dirty, dismembered, diseased body parts into her sack.

Hidan's head went into the sack last. One of his blackened fingers nearly took his eye out on the way. "Ouch. Dammit, be careful. That hurts!"

She adjusted his head. Her fingers were so warm on his scalp they nearly burned.

The sense of her chakra, which he'd barely noticed in his present state, dissolved into practically nothing. The forest was saturated with various signatures already, and she was very good at hiding.

He felt Maddie begin to jog, although he couldn't hear her footsteps. She was incompetent in combat, still, and chickenshit to boot, so if they got caught it would definitely be back into the pit for him — with company, probably — but she was cat-footed and quick and very, very sneaky.

The daylight came through the sack in pinpricks, leaking between the warp and weft of the rough fabric. When they left the forest, the glow of the sun intensified. Maddie's chakra gave the tiniest little flicker and then her gait changed to an all-out dash. Her feet thumped the ground and the sack jostled alongside her, rocking against her moving body with each stride.

He would have liked to have said something, but he was woozy and quiet, just a cold jumble of filthy parts thumping along in her bag.

Maddie was warm through the sack.

Hidan felt better. He would not have said he felt good, exactly; he still felt fucking terrible. But the spiralling madness of his long burial had dissipated, dispelled by that first ray of sunlight.

The murky exhaustion remained, and he soon went under again.

"I think we're in the clear," said Maddie, some time later.

It was cold again, and dark enough outside that no light made itself known in the sack. The coldness seemed to leech all the warmth he'd finally got back straight out of him.

"At least, I sure hope we're in the clear," she mumbled.

"Where are we?" Hidan wondered.

"Um, not far from the coast. I bought a farm. Two farms. On Wave? Gato really ended up devastating the local economy for a while there. It was cheap. I only rented one of them out so far."

"Right," said Hidan. She'd wanted to do that, hadn't she? For some reason?

"I haven't been to this one. I don't know if it's even arable. But hey, land is land, right?" she rambled nervously. "We're nearly at the — haha, at the Great Naruto Bridge." This name seemed particularly funny to her, so she laughed for a second, breathlessly, like a broken hinge. Then she said: "I don't want them to search my bags, and technically the bridge gate is shut anyway, so we're just going to water walk underneath, okay?"

"Sure," said Hidan easily. He didn't have a say, anyway.

"Right," mumbled Maddie.

The ocean stank. Maddie's chakra disappeared again as she tiptoed onto the water.

Hidan fell asleep once more.

The next time he woke, it was because something was stabbing him.

"Ow," he hissed.

The sack was gone. He was on the floor of a bathroom, which was floored in red tiles that crawled halfway up the walls where they turned into whitewashed wood. A chipped, claw-footed tub rose high above his head where it rested on the floor behind him.

Maddie was hunched over him, her long ragged hair trailing onto his jaw. She cringed as she drew a dark thread of her own weird chakra through his neck.

Above them both, a bare electric bulb hummed. Moths gathered around it, flickering shadows against the the yellow light.

"Sorry," Maddie whispered. She finished her line of stitches. From a glance, she'd haphazardly stitched most of his torso together already.

"What're you doing?"

"Rinsing your pieces off in the tub and sewing you back together, I guess. I don't know. What else?"

What else indeed? "Forget the rest for now. I need food."

She let the thread of her chakra fall. "Okay," she said. "What kind?"

Anyone else would have pointed out that he didn't have enough organs to digest anything. But every time Hidan met Maddie, she just got... kind of weirder. She was grim, she was romantic, she was suspicious. She was ambitious. She was pragmatic. She was strangely sentimental.

How had such a strange girl grown up like her? Nobody had raised her this way. She must be like a reed, needing nothing but the black waters of her fetid swamp.

In this case, he was glad for her weirdness.

"Meat." Something that was someone. An individual with conspecifics. He'd eat a human, if he could. "Something that suffered."

She hesitated. "Fish?"

Close enough. "Fine, fish."

What she had was some kind of white fish, the kind fishermen caught all up and down the coast. She washed her hands and fed him flakes of pale flesh from her fingertips, catching them on his chapped lips occasionally. She also brought him water, which she alloted him in cruel sips only, waiting long minutes between.

He was full in about six bites, which he knew to be absurd because he couldn't even feel his stomach, let alone the sensation of fullness.

"I'm going back to sleep," he slurred, then. "Keep sewing."

"Okay," she said again.

"'M cold," he whined, half-conscious. It was night still and he was naked in pieces on the chilly tiles. And it had been cold underground.

"Sorry."

"Ugh," he managed, and then he was out like a light again.

He woke up twice more, numb but steadily more complete. Maddie hand-fed him each time in little flaky white chunks. He was numb and cold each time, and his body might have been sewn back together, but it answered none of his commands. It wasn't even shitting right.

Hidan had only just begun to contemplate a life where this was the new normal, where he didn't heal properly and he just laid there numb and cold and waiting on Maddie to fucking hand feed him like a recalcitrant kitten, when this situation changed.

He woke up at noon on the fifth day, in a truly staggering amount of pain. He cursed loudly. Then he discovered he could move his fingers. Just a twitch.

Thank fuck.

Jashin was not a god of mercies, but he was a god of pain. So Hidan embraced the stabbing agony in each of his limbs and gave thanks.

---

On day seven, Maddie announced herself by dumping his naked, unresisting body into the bath tub. The water was warm, and after so long being so cold — in the darkness of the pit, and then on the tiles for days — it felt searing.

"Fuck!" he yelped, jerking his limbs in uncoordinated distress, because the first wash of heat felt like lava. "Maddie!"

"You complain about the cold in your sleep," she said, but she stuck her hand in the water, frowning, like she was really afraid she could boil him alive by accident. "It's not that hot."

She went back to what she was doing, which seemed to be sweeping up all the detritus of their emergency repairs from the tiles and into a dustpan to prepare for mopping.

Hidan begged to differ, and he opened his mouth to do just that, but then the sensation of warmth finally registered. He shivered from head to toe and made a pornographic moan of relief. "Oh, fuck."

Maddie looked at him as though he was doing this specifically to try her patience. She had completely inherited Kakuzu's unimpressed face. He wondered if she knew.

"Wait, where's Kakuzu?"

She paused in her sweeping for just a moment. "Dead." The rhythmic sound of the brush continued.

"Dead? No shit?"

"So is Sasori, and Deidara, and Kisame, and Itachi by now I guess —"

"Yeah, I don't care about that. What the hell happened to Kakuzu?"

"I'm not ...completely sure. I think they got all his hearts, basically."

...Hidan did have a distant memory of stabbing himself and realising that he had not performed his ritual on the Leaf chuunin he'd been aiming for. Huh.

"I went back and got his body," she added uncertainly. "I guess it would be a bad idea to leave it lying around but..."

"Have you tried just cramming a new heart into it?" Hidan wondered.

"... Do you think that would work?"

"I dunno. No? Maybe?" It felt so good to be warm, even though his whole body was prickling viciously in the heat. His fingers flexed almost like normal. "There's no proof it wouldn't work?"

Maddie put her dustpan and brush down in favour of staring at him, thoughtfully patting her own belly. "I hadn't thought of it. I'll... try? I'll just... cram a heart into his body. Sure. Why not." She paused. "Do you want to come out of the bath first?"

Hidan yawned. "No. I'm going to live here."

"Okay. Try not to drown."

"Ha," he said, deadpan. "You're hilarious."

[livingformintyoongi]

Request: Could you write a smut fanfic of yoongi being a brat tamer? Basically just the reader or y/n having an attitude on purpose and just being a brat and yoongi punishing her with s3x and spanking? Also preferably rough s3x.

Punishment

a/n: I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO MANY DAYS. I was in a block of absolutely everything, I wasn't even able to finish a task I had pending :( seriously sorry for taking so long, sorry. I also regret the emptiness of the title, me and titles have a personal thing 🙃 wc: 1.8k Taglist: @thunderg @minjianhyung @queenv1997 @yoongtism @lizzymizzy-blogg @superbbananananana @drpepperobsessed @themwordsblog @taekritimin123 @bluecloudss

You let out a choked gasp as you felt Yoongi's fingers tangle in your hair and pull hard. You wanted to scream, but you were aware that was just what he wanted, and you weren't willing to please him, not like you could with his cock in your mouth either.

“You look so much better shut up than talking shit, don't you think?” he said in a mocking tone, delivering a particularly sharp lunge against your throat. It burned in the most glorious way possible. 

You pulled his cock out of your mouth, wiping your chin with the back of your hand, your mocking gaze fixed on Yoongi's. “Really? Because I'm sure it was that same shit talk that got you this hard, Yoonie” you hummed with amusement, brushing his length with your fingertips as you used your tongue to tease his slit. 

You felt him lift you up in his arms as if you were a feather, carrying you straight to his room. You had been down this same path several times before, but never this way, let alone with this intention. You regretted absolutely nothing, you had been waiting for this moment for a long time. 

A shriek-like scream escaped your lips as Yoongi threw you roughly onto his bed, climbing on top of you almost instantly. You didn't even realize at what point he pounced against your lips, kissing you so desperately and needily that your whole body shuddered. 

His hands soon traveled to your waist and let them snake playfully across your bare skin, teasing your sensitive areas and momentary spasms. They weren't where you wanted them to be, and that was starting to irritate you.

“Could you, I don't know, do something useful with your hands? I don't know if you know this, but I have needs down there too, and you haven't helped me much to speak of” you whispered between heavy breaths. Normally you enjoyed foreplay, feeling the soft cool touch on your skin, the desperate kisses and pelvic rubs on lesser garments. This, however, was a special occasion, you hadn't been teasing this man for almost a year to have him tease you like this.

“What's so funny about that? I thought you liked foreplay, wasn't that what you said a few days ago with one of your friends?” he had to clench his jaw as he felt your nails dig into his hips to press his member hard against your clothed center. The rubbing felt majestic, you thought it would feel a thousand times better if he cut the shit and just thrust it into you. “Fuck.”

“Or you start taking off my shorts to fuck me against your bed, or I'll be on the hook for having to let you down and ride you until I come” you whispered in annoyance, taking Yoongi's hair between your fingers and pulling on it until his neck was fully exposed to your view.

“You really are a desperate bitch, aren't you? I didn't think you were like that, it's interesting to see” he let out a laugh too hoarse to count as laughter, his hand stopping firmly on your wrist with the intention of releasing his hair from your firm grip. You felt your stomach churn with excitement the moment he pressed both of your hands on top of your head, pulling his face close to yours until both your breaths mingled. 

You licked your lips at the dry feeling you had on them, you really weren't the kind of person to let yourself be dominated that easily, but there was something about the idea of Yoongi pressing you hard on his bed that made your whole body tremble with excitement. 

You moaned almost in a whisper as you felt his cool fingers brush against your lower belly, right where your shorts were. You heard a dull sound and then the zipper slowly lowered, causing you to stir in anticipation. It didn't take long for Yoongi to undo the denim and toss it somewhere in the room.

His lips focused on your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses trailing from your jaw to your collarbones, all the while keeping one hand gripping yours and the other exploring your center over your clothing. The first touch almost made you curl your back.

“Shit, are you seriously this wet just from sucking my cock?” he laughed softly, earning a knee from you. You were too engaged in the sensations he was provoking in you to notice his moan.

“Shut your mouth and touch me, I helped you, it's your obligation to return the favor” you wanted to pull your hands out of his grip, but he seemed determined to keep them glued to your wrists. 

“You don't know how much I hate your shitty attitude” he whispered against your skin, stopping between your neck and shoulder, taking a hard bite. This time you couldn't swallow your scream. Your hands clenched tightly, possibly causing your palms to be left in purple crescent shapes. “You did that on purpose, didn't you? You wanted to annoy me long enough until I blew up and we got into this situation.”

“Well, I didn't think it would happen, but since-” you interrupted yourself with a loud moan as you felt his hand reach under the fabric covering your center, going straight to your clit to play with it. The tugging, circling massages and rough thrusts he made with his fingers were enough to have you pressing your hips against his hand and keep your mouth too busy moaning to respond to him.

“At first I thought it would be a good idea to play a little, you know? But you're so wet and you've been so annoying...you really don't deserve my pity” he gently bit your ear, letting his thumb tease your clit as two of his fingers pressed against your entrance.

You closed your eyes tightly as you felt his fingers enter you in one thrust. They were quite long, and he definitely knew which places to touch to make you quiver under him. You could feel them moving in and out of you, faster and harder each time, opening his fingers once inside you, flexing them where he felt you might have a sensitive spot to tease as he played with you. The “massage” on your clit wasn't much help to the increasingly constant spasms either. 

“God, that feels so good” you whispered, pressing your hips against his hand, having the urge and need to feel him closer, deeper.

Almost the instant you said those words Yoongi pulled his fingers from inside you, licking shamelessly at your juices. You moaned as you watched him run his tongue along the length of his fingers. “Then I guess you're relaxed enough to fuck you.”

You shivered slightly at the thought of finally feeling him inside you. Ever since you had seen how big he was you had been longing for this moment. You nodded awkwardly, frowning in confusion as you felt him turn you over, leaving you face down on the bed.

You were about to ask why he had made you turn around, but his cock thrusting into you answered the question immediately. He didn't wait a second for you to get used to the sensation, once he bottomed out, his thrusts became rougher and rougher, causing a slight burning excitement that forced you to grip his sheets until your knuckles were white. His hands gripped your hips tightly, they would probably leave a few marks later, but you couldn't have cared less, you were too focused on how stupidly full you felt at that moment.

“If I'd known you needed a fuck to shut you up, I would have done it a lot sooner” he growled softly, running one of his hands down your back, caressing your curves with the gentleness his pelvis definitely didn't have.

“You wouldn't have dared, you were a pussy” you laughed between moans, squealing as you felt a burning on your right cheek along with a “clap” that sounded too loud to appear to the neighbors. They probably would have noticed by the noise from the walls, you thought. 

“Did I tell you to talk?” he wrapped one of his arms around your waist, gathering your back against his chest, his other hand traveled to your sensitive spot, moving it as he pleased. Your legs were starting to lose their strength, and you were really thankful your face was against his mattress, you didn't see yourself able to see his taunting face right now.

“I-I don't need to” you moaned loudly as you felt his cock slap against your G-spot as his fingers kept your clit well tended to, “Y-your pe-permission to... talk.” you wanted to sound as fluent as possible, but it was becoming increasingly difficult as his onslaught grew wilder and wilder. 

Another “clap” echoed in the room, louder this time. You clenched your jaw as you felt your skin burn. 

“As long as you're under me you need it, understand? Or are you too fucked up to think?” he whispered against the skin of your shoulder, kissing and biting your skin. The pleasure was becoming more and more unbearable and your body couldn't seem to take Yoongi's lewd touches any longer. 

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt his cock stir and throb inside you, and it took everything in you not to come right then and there. His hand was starting to move faster over your clit, enjoying the wet sound it made.

Your already agitated breathing was starting to become increasingly ragged. Your body was starting to spasm more often and you were sure you weren't the only one in this state. Yoongi was keeping his attention completely focused on hitting your G-spot again and fuck, what you felt when he hit that spot again would definitely be something hard to forget. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you squealed low Yoongi, your whole body shaking uncontrollably as the knot in your lower belly unraveled tighter than you had ever experienced before. You totally lost the strength in your limbs, so it was Yoongi who had to hold you tight as he delivered his final thrusts before pulling out of you and cumming on your lower back.

“Fuck” hissed Yoongi, massaging his member until the last drop of cum was out of him. His gaze was on your face. Your eyes closed, your mouth half open struggling to regulate your breathing and your eyebrows slightly furrowed.

“You better clean my back before I get my strength back, Min” you whispered, finishing the sentence with an almost inaudible laugh. You took a pillow from the many he had near the headboard and settled it under your face, “What are you waiting for? Move.”

He just smiled, taking advantage of the fact that your eyes were still closed. He definitely liked you better that way. 

Masterlist.

[renaerys]

How are you so good at creating the chemistry between Sakura and Shisui... first A Quiet Thunder, now Lightning in a Bottle. You're so talented. I've also read your Sasosaku, you got me hooked up even when I'm not really into Sasosaku

How exactly did you create the chemistry between Shisui and Sakura though? They are two characters that never even met so it amazes me how you write their interaction. Also if you don't mind me asking, what makes you ship her with him?

My favorite crack/rare pair is Shisaku because while I'm also a Sasusaku shipper, somehow I just know Shisui would most definitely treat her better😞

ShiSaku is entirely @komorebi-rabbit 's fault. I'm really picky about Sakura ships in that I mostly dislike them with very narrow exceptions. I had never really cared about Shisui in my Tumblr/Naruto fandom heyday back in 2011-2016 because there was less than nothing about him in canon at the time and I've never been what you'd call an Uchiha fangirl. But then I started writing Naruto fics again in 2020, reread the whole manga, and eventually found my way to the filler anime episodes that featured Shisui leading up to the Uchiha Clan Massacre, and suddenly we had some cool and interesting backstory coloring within the lines the manga drew about him.

Bunny basically dared me to try writing ShiSaku after sharing her awesome headcanons regarding Shisui and Obito having crossed paths before Obito defected. It kind of spiraled from there. I got the idea for A Quiet Thunder like a shock to the system and it wrote itself. Lightning in a Bottle has been a natural and easy second installment that I feel even more confident about (I just wish I had a little more regular and reliable free time to work to it, but it's going).

This became a really long answer because I got super in to fleshing out how these two are complementary, and how they each have something that the other lacks but desperately craves in a lover. See under the cut for my Why ShiSaku psychosis analysis.

Sakura is hard for a lot of people to pin down and often gets OC SI-washed, which I find trite and boring and makes me intensely despise most multi-Sakura content, which I've written about here. But canon Sakura, while not the most fleshed out character ever, does have good bones. On the positive side, I love how she is portrayed as someone who is uncompromisingly loyal, she strives for excellence in all that she does, she doesn't compromise her convictions, and she has a burning desire to win when she sets her mind and fists to something. She's not as charismatic or confident as Ino, or as caustic and sharp-witted as Karin, but she has enough self-assurance in part 2 and strength of character to feel like she's got a backbone and isn't afraid to put her money where her mouth is. But I also appreciate that she is a deeply insecure and selfish person especially when it comes to decisions she makes that directly impact her teammates, her brand of love is obsessive and smothering, her civilian background gives her both privilege and excruciating naïveté vis-a-vis her teammates, and in part 1 she was shown to be a very lazy and unserious ninja. She grows and improves upon many of these negative traits in part 2, which is fantastic. That journey is fun to watch and explore more in depth in fic.

Shisui is trickier to nail down since we get most of his "personality" traits in the filler, non-canon episodes of the anime. But I'm fine with that, and I'm not per se opposed to how fandoms will sort of establish a non-canonical but widely accepted characterization. Sometimes that isn't good, but sometimes it is. Personally, I like to infer his personality by juxtaposing it with Itachi's personality, which is well-established in canon. He is the extrovert/people person compared to Itachi's weird, old man reticence (I say this with a lot of love for Itachi). It makes sense to make him the comedian to Itachi's straight man, which is a tried and true dynamic duo archetype. I don't necessarily mean he has to be hilarious or comic relief, just that compared to Itachi I think he'd lean a little more in that direction. Shisui is a scheming schemer who schemes, which we see from his deep political involvement in the events leading up to the Uchiha Massacre. From this, I'd infer that he knows how to manipulate people, is charismatic and magnetic, and also very shrewd and intelligent, possibly even ruthlessly so.

I like Shisui and Sakura together because (i) I think they would be attracted to each other's core positive traits, and (ii) the way they love would be complementary.

I'll start with being attracted to each other's traits. Sakura is fun to pair with a person who is more of a schemer than she is (which is not at all), someone who is more willing to see rules as guidelines than as written law. That keeps her on her toes because it's not a skill she has, and it leads to tension between them since she is pretty straight-laced and even kind of a boot-licker (complacency about the status quo). But she is intelligent enough and, crucially, compassionate enough see things from another person's starkly different worldview. If someone presents her with evidence that she is wrong about something, I think she is the type of person who will internalize that and make different decisions/be open to changing her mind. The Sasori fight is an excellent example of this. In this sense, I think she could empathize with Shisui, respect him even if she may not agree with all his decisions, and present herself as someone who he can reliably see as an ally both in the martial sense and in a more personal, human sense. There's a moment in part 1 of canon where Naruto transforms into Sasuke but still acts like Naruto, showering Sakura with love and affection, and she is super into it. I have always believed that scenes like that show that Sakura is someone who wants a partner who is not shy about their love for her, who is enthusiastic and happy to be around her and publicly expresses that enthusiasm, and who treats her with sincere appreciation. She needs that kind of validation and reassurance from a lover. I think she'd see all that in Shisui and be very drawn to that aspect of his personality. It would be easy for her to like him.

For Shisui's part, I think that being so closely associated with Itachi puts him in the position of being the river that has to bend and flow around the immovable rock that is Itachi's personality and standing. And he's good at that, and it makes him kind of a chameleon of a person, but it makes him hard for others to really relate to and get to know. He feels like the type who is flighty, hard to pin down, difficult to get truly close to. Sakura is very straightforward and a what you see is what you get type of person. She doesn't play the games he plays, and that's to her credit. She has a grounding effect that I think would anchor him, and he'd appreciate having another person who isn't Itachi, who isn't embroiled in all the politics of being Itachi, to act as a second and separate wayfinder in a storm. He doesn't have to scheme with her, doesn't have to be in battle mode around her because she is guileless and straight-laced in a way Itachi definitely is not. I think Shisui would find that appealing as something steady and sure in the midst of a life that has always been high speed, violent, chaotic, and full of people he can't fully trust and who don't really care about him beyond what he can do for them. Also, Sakura doesn't have the kind of trauma a lot of other characters do, the kind of trauma Shisui has, and I don't think she needs that. Her not having that, but also being the type of person who is willing and able to empathize with him once she gets a peek behind the curtain, is part of the appeal for him. I think they would genuinely get along in an opposites attract way.

They way they love is also complementary in my opinion. I think he is someone who, like Sakura, would love obsessively, ruinously, and selectively (which is similar to how Sasori loves, which probably tells you that there is a pattern here). I think this is how he loves Itachi (and also Obito in the aforementioned headcanon backstory). Sakura needs to smother the person she loves because that is how she understands love. Look in canon how she behaved with Sasuke. I know these words I'm using may seem like negative words, but I'm using them in a neutral sense. I don't think there is anything bad about her way of loving, but it's very polarizing and not something that resonates with everyone. It works with someone who, like her, sees love as the center of their universe, basks in the attention their lover gives them, and in turn gives their lover a lot of attention. Their love is not content to be casual, discreet, or polite. Rather, theirs is a love that is characterized by intensity, passion, shamelessness, look-at-me-and-let-me-see-you-looking-at-me levels of fixation. As much as Sakura wants someone to choose her above and before all others (she's been burned so hard by SNS whether you interpret them as platonic or romantic), Shisui I think would want someone to choose him first for a change when everyone else chooses Itachi. Itachi is the stronger of the two, the more politically important of the two, better breeding, more respected, etc. And on top of all that, even Itachi wouldn't choose Shisui first because he'll always choose Sasuke. But someone who chooses Shisui first when Itachi is right there? I think that would be so intoxicating to him.

I haven't spent nearly as much time obsessing over ShiSaku as I have SasoSaku, but the time I have spent has been as a mature, confident writer with better tools in my arsenal for this type of analysis. I really like this pairing, and I am really confident in how I've puzzled them together (with help from people like Bunny and others, of course!). I think to answer your original question, I can capture their chemistry because I'm really comfortable with what their chemistry even is (at least, my own version of it). Like knowing a recipe from memory and executing on it perfectly because you've done it a hundred times before, I know my version of ShiSaku up and down, forwards and backwards, head over heels. I think that's the most important part of the puzzle for how to make a pairing work. Passion speaks loudest, and you can really see when someone has studied their passion with the gunning hyper fixation of an uncaught serial killer.

(Thanks for your Ask and for reading my ShiSaku fics!)

[stardustrebels]

More of You- Chapter 2

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

WC: 1k

Rating: 18+ for eventual smut, MDNI

Series Masterlist | Blog Masterlist Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: After a devastating betrayal and loss, you left everything behind on the East Coast and promised yourself a fresh start in Austin, Texas. Independence as your new mantra, you vow never to let anyone too close again. Then you meet Joel Miller- a man whose warmth and Southern charm makes it hard to stick to your resolve. As your feelings deepen, you’re forced to confront your past- and question if letting someone in again is worth the risk. 

Tags: No outbreak!AU. Coffee shop meet-cute with a slow-ish burn. Sickly sweet fluff with eventual smut. I wanted to write something that gave me the warm fuzzies, and I am kicking my feet and giggling while I write this. Joel Miller just deserves a good life, you know? Joel and reader have a teeny tiny age gap- Joel is 42, reader is mid 30s. Sarah is 19. No use of Y/N, minimal descriptions of reader. She has hair long enough to tie back and she wears skirts and dresses. A/N: If you're reading this, hello! I'm so glad you're here :) As before, not really proofread, but we move. If I overthink it, it'll never get posted. Enjoy!

He was already there when you arrived the next day- you spotted him as soon as you entered the coffee shop, settled into the same corner seat by the window; his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he leaned over his worn paperback, just as he had the day before. You blinked to make sure he wasn’t a figment of your imagination- the early morning sunlight streaming through the window illuminated the streaks of silver in his hair, making them glint like beautiful threads of polished steel. He was wearing a denim shirt today and a pair of reading glasses were perched low on his nose, the frames slightly crooked, as though they had been carelessly shoved in to a pocket one too many times. 

You tried not to look too obvious as you stole glances at him. He didn’t seem to notice you- or maybe he was just too polite to let on that he had. You ordered and made your way to your usual table, glancing down as you passed. On the table in front of him sat a black coffee, the steam curling lazily in to the air. A single biscotti lay untouched on the saucer beside the cup, as if it had been ordered out of politeness rather than any real intention to eat it. He shifted slightly in his seat as you brushed past him tilting the book to the side as though the movement had broken his concentration. 

As you sat down and set up your laptop as normal, you couldn’t help but muse over him. He didn’t seem like the kind of man who frequented coffee shops for the atmosphere. The black coffee, no cream or sugar, suggested a practicality rather than indulgence, but maybe that was an unfair stereotype based on how he looked. You found yourself wondering if he always drank his coffee black. It suited him- at least you thought so. Did he come here as often as you did and you’d just never noticed him before, or was this just a coincidence? The barista arriving to your table with your coffee pulled you from your thoughts. You thanked her with a smile. As your gaze drifted back down to the table from where she had stood, you braved a glance at him again. Your eyes darted to his hands watching transfixed as he lifted the cup to his lips, the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. You swallowed too, eyes lingering on the base of his throat, just above the first button of his shirt. Your eyes flicked back up to his face; his expression was calm, though every so often his brows would furrow and his lips would press together in concentration. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. Every movement was mesmerising. 

A thought crossed your mind, as it had the day prior. I could just say hello. Introduce myself. Ask him what he’s reading. 

It wasn’t such a wild idea. People struck up conversations in coffee shops all the time. He seemed approachable, he had smiled at you yesterday. Maybe he wouldn’t mind the interruption. Maybe he’d even welcome it. 

You bit your lip, heart beating a little faster at the thought. At the idea of effortless, casual conversation with him. You might even get to see what a full smile on his face looked like as you chatted. Your fingers twitched with indecision. Then he looked up at you. 

You froze, your breath catching in your throat, your fingers stilled awkwardly above your keyboard. His brown eyes, framed by laughter lines under his black-rimmed glasses, crinkled as he smiled at you. It wasn’t much, just a faint lift of the corner of his mouth, but it was enough to make your heart thump hard in your chest. You felt the heat rising in your cheeks as you realised that you’d been caught looking at him. Again. You tried to look casual, tapping your fingers awkwardly against your keyboard, typing nonsense on to your screen. 

The moment lingered, and so did his smile. Maybe he’s waiting for you to say something, a bold part of your brain suggested. Or maybe he’s being polite at the weirdo who won’t stop staring at him, another, less helpful, part of your brain offered. You swallowed hard, the argument bouncing around inside your head. It’s now or never. Just ask about his book, or say hi. Or- anything!

Taking a steadying breath, you started to push back your chair, steeling yourself to cross to his table before you could talk yourself out of it. But before you could stand, his phone buzzed  and lit up on the table. 

He glanced down at the screen, expression shifting immediately. The faint softness of his smile vanished, replaced by a small frown as he picked up the phone. He answered with a clipped, “Miller.”

His voice was deep, rich, and carried an authoritative air that sent shivers down your spine. You quickly dropped your gaze back to your laptop, feigning sudden interest in the jumble of words you smashed on to the document earlier in your attempt to play it cool. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him listening intently, his free hand running over the back of his neck as he nodded at whatever was being said on the other end of the line. 

“Yeah, okay. I’ll be there soon,” he said, his tone curt but calm. He ended the call and set his phone down, rubbing his temple for a moment before finishing the last of his coffee in a single gulp. You snuck another glance as he stood, his denim shirt lifting as he slung a bag over his shoulder, revealing the tiniest sliver of tanned skin. You gulped and watched as he carried the cup, saucer and uneaten biscotti back to the counter, just as he had the day before,  murmuring a quick thanks to the barista. Then, without a backward glance he strode out of the coffee shop, his boots thudding softly against the floor. 

You stared after him and felt a pang of disappointment. So much for now or never. 

Next Chapter

[rea-grimm]

Sleep protector Sabo

It had been several weeks since that incident. An incident where a fire broke out and destroyed the entire building along with many human lives. You were inside when the surrounding glass began to crack and shatter due to the heat.

It was a miracle you even got out alive. Although you had a lot of burns and glass shards in your eye. You haven't seen on that eye since and you had the biggest scar there. 

The wounds from that incident were slowly healing and you even had an artificial eye so no one could tell the difference. You didn't like how others looked at you anyway.

Either they felt sorry for you or they looked at you from which gang you escaped. You didn't need pity. You wanted to be accepted as you were.

You've also been constantly dreaming about that incident ever since. Nightmares kept you awake and forced you to relive them over and over again.

After a few weeks ago you broke up with your boyfriend because of it. It was clear from him that he was attracted to someone else and that he was with you out of pity.

You had the impression that your whole world was falling apart. And no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't overcome it.

You had the impression that you didn't manage anything at all. You crawled through the exams with your ears scratched because the teachers took your situation and health into account.

Besides, you were in your last year and you were stuck at a dead end with your final thesis. You had the impression that at this rate you wouldn't be able to hand it in on time.

You didn't get any comfort from your family either. Both your parents died when you were little and all you had left was your older brother. However, he lived across the sea and he could not fly to see you.

Through it all, your brother was there for you. He constantly called you and texted you so you wouldn't feel so alone. You knew that if he could, he was truly there for you.

Instead, he sent you a little gift to cheer you up. You were expecting something small, like a postcard, but when you received the package from the postman you had no idea what it would be.

You took the package inside and opened it. Inside was a golden-furred teddy bear in a blue coat and hat with glasses. You noticed that the fur around his left eye was darker.

You took it out and underneath it was a sign with your brother's writing on it.

"Sorry, I can't be with you. I'm sending you this little protector here instead. P.S. Both of you are equally cute. With love, your brother.” you read it, and it almost made you cry.

You took the teddy bear in your arms and rested your head on it. His fur was soft and kept you warm. You had no idea what it was, but you felt calm and safe with him.

You fell asleep fairly quickly that night, but even now you dreamed about that damned fire. You tried to run away from the flames, but you were trapped. You were in the same room where you lost your eye. You curled up into a ball and hid your head in your hands. How long will you have to live with this?

However, no glass exploded and you had the impression that the fire was no longer as hot as before. You hesitantly put your hands down and looked to see what was going on.

The flames slowly diminished and a young man in a blue coat and hat with glasses stood in front of you. He had his back to you and it looked like he was controlling the flames and forcing them to retreat.

When your eyes met, he gave you a warm smile and held out his hand to you.

"Shall we go somewhere else?" he asked you. You hesitated at first as it felt strange, but eventually, you accepted his hand.

"Aren't you hurt?" he asked you as he helped you stand up. You shook your head. “That's good,” he smiled and started leading you out of the building.

He took you to new, diverse and wonderful places full of adventure. He took you to the desert where he compared you to rare beautiful flowers that grow even in the most difficult conditions.

You observed the stars that he claimed shone just like your eyes. He took you on picnics, and boat trips and always treated you like a princess. He made you feel normal again.

You had no idea how much a good night's sleep would affect you. You had a lot more energy and the world didn't seem so dark. Sure, it still had its dark sides, but it was much more manageable.

You would never expect how much a little teddy bear can help you. You were able to focus more on school and on your life, which had been slipping through your fingers until now.

You even decided to attend the prom you originally refused to go to. Although you didn't have anyone to go there with, you still didn't want to miss it. It was your night after all.

But what was worse, what to wear? To mask your eye or not? These questions raced through your head and kept you up late into the night. You held the teddy bear in your arms and wondered what to do with yourself.

You fell asleep only when you had the impression that someone hugged you and whispered to you to go to sleep. That the morning was wiser than the evening.

Despite all that, you couldn't come up with anything, and you weren't even able to rent or buy any clothes. You thought that you probably wouldn't really go anywhere and you'd rather be at home.

You had the impression that you had even confided in the young man in the blue coat about it during your dreams. He looked at you thoughtfully before beginning to describe a dress that would suit you. He described them so beautifully that you were sorry it was just a dream.

However, when you woke up the next morning, you noticed that you had a blue box with a bow on the chair next to your bed. You had no idea what she was doing there.

You sat up and rubbed your eye. To your surprise, next to the big box was another smaller one.

You got out of bed and went over to the boxes. You opened the big one first. You lifted the lid and pushed the pale blue paper aside. To your surprise, there was a beautiful dress like the young man described in your dream.

You took them completely out of the box, walked over to the mirror and put them on top of you. They were seriously stunning.

You were so blown away that you had to try them on immediately. You put them on and admired how they fit like a glove.

Without taking them off, you walked over to the other smaller box and opened it. Inside was an eyepatch with a velvet band and crystals that resembled drops of water falling over your eye on invisible strings.

You carefully took the jewellery and tried to put it on your head. It fits you perfectly and matches the dress extremely well. You also had several accessories at home that matched it too.

As the days flew by, the evening of the prom arrived. You took special care to look nice that day. Just for the feeling that the evening belonged to you and your classmates.

The first half of the evening went by quite quickly and you didn't even have time to worry about anything else. Entrance, toast, raffle sale...

But as soon as free entertainment arrived, you were there alone. So many people in such a small space and you had no one there to enjoy it with.

In addition, a slow song played and couples flocked to the floor to dance. You were thinking of going to get a drink when your eyes fell on a blond young man in a blue suit who looked like he was looking for someone.

As soon as his eyes fell on you, a wide smile spread across his face. You never saw him at school and the only thing you thought was that he must be a friend or a relative of your friends.

His face was covered by a mask, but it still looked incredibly familiar. As if you met somewhere.

“You look especially beautiful today, princess,” he told you, taking your hand and kissing your fingers. You were at a loss for words. You felt like you were in a dream.

“May I have this dance?” he asked you when he heard what music was playing. You agreed and you went to the dance floor together.

He put one arm around your waist and held your hand with the other. Together you swayed to the music and it felt as if everything around you disappeared and it was just the two of you.

You thought that the young man would stay there with you until the end, but when you went to prepare for the midnight surprise, you didn't see him anywhere after that. It shocked you a little, but the memories of dancing together still warmed your heart.

Some days passed since your prom and you were enjoying a bit of peace at home. You wanted to make it more pleasant with a scented candle.

You found one and lit it. A little way from her you had a teddy bear lying down to keep you company.

You had no idea how you did it, but by some oversight, you managed to drop the candle and set the teddy bear on fire. You wanted to save him, but you had no idea that he would quickly catch fire there.

In an instant, nothing was left of him but a small pile of ashes, the candle went out with them, and nothing else burned down. You just stood there staring with horror in your eyes for several long seconds.

Then you started sniffling, tears started to sting your eyes. How could you be so clumsy and burn your brother's gift? You mentally cursed yourself for it.

“My princess shouldn't be sad,” a knowing voice said into your hair as you felt someone hug you from behind. You were startled and turned to see who it was.

“Sabo…” you breathed out in surprise. Is this just a dream? You thought it through. After all, you only met him in your dreams… but you remembered dancing at the prom with him. Sabo smiled at your reaction and stroked your cheek.

"Besides, now I can protect you here as well," he added softly as his eyes fell on the patch you had over your eye. You kept wearing them here and there. You took her to town today and then you forgot about her.

“Princess, you're more beautiful than you think,” he said and removed the patch from your eye. He cupped your face gently, leaned closer to you and kissed you on both eyelids.

“It suits you better this way,” he said, face a few inches from yours. He literally melted your heart.

"Besides, now we match," he chuckled after a while. At first, you stared at him confused as to what he was getting at when it dawned on you. Both of you had scars on your eyes from the fire.

“That wasn't very funny,” you pouted, weakly punching him in the shoulder. Sabo continued to chuckle before he finally calmed down.

"Sorry," he said with a smile. "I couldn't help myself. But what I told you before I meant it,” he added honestly before leaning into you slightly.

It was up to you to close the gap between you and kiss him. Your protector.

Sleep Protector Masterlist

One Piece Masterlist

This chapter is for @kath-loves-toast

Amazing art created by @kath-loves-toast

[yukidragon]

Hello, I started reading your blog not so long ago. I am amazed at how you describe everything in detail, so professionally that your headcannons seem to be canons))

Anyway, I have a question about the game Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack. How do you think the characters from this game would help and support us if we (the players, the main characters) were very shy? In terms of any actions, such as expressing your feelings to your partner or intimacy. And not in the sense that we are just embarrassed, but really very timid and do not know how to behave (For example, because of personal feelings or doubts, poor self-esteem and self-doubt, we behave this way). How would the characters in this game support us, help us feel more comfortable and confident?

Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoy my rambles and ideas. 💖

Well a fair number of them are canon to Sunshine in Hell if you want to get technical. Not so much the AUs and random what if scenarios of course. ;3 I just approach the characters and setting through my own lens and what feels right to me, which I apply to the stories I write about them.

Funny enough, having a timid and shy main character suffering from poor self-esteem and lots of self-doubts is at the core of Sunshine in Hell. Alice is a character who is suffering from a lot of hesitance and uncertainty due to past experiences and a lot of toxic aspects of society.

Jack

Jack is incredibly mindful of Alice's needs and boundaries. Thanks to their connection, he can sense when he's doing something to make her uncomfortable and adjust accordingly. This bond their souls have may or may not be canon to the game, but it is canon to my version of the story. In a way it's kind of a cheat for Jack, allowing him insight that other people lack.

Plus Jack is a perceptive, clever man. It was a survival tactic when he was on the street to be able to read others' intentions, and he grew up in a house full of two-faced people as Joseph. He learned what he had to do in order to please people. He knows how to read body language, expressions, tone, etc. so he can tell when someone is feeling positively or negatively. Even if his supernatural "cheat" doesn't give him enough of a hint, he can deduce more from body language.

Jack wants to be there for his sunshine and be everything they could ever want or need. He needs them. He's desperate for their love and to have a purpose, and his very existence is tied to it. This makes him especially mindful of his sunshine's likes, dislikes, and needs.

So depending on the MC, Jack will try to adjust his behavior around them. If they need him to go slower and be more supportive he will. That's why Sunshine in Hell is going to be a slow burn. Alice was not only damaged by societal pressures, but by a toxic relationship with her previous and only partner. Being burned so many times has left her hesitant to make a move that might cause her to feel the flames again.

Jack's go-to to offer support and help his sunshine feel more comfortable is with words. He is the ultimate cheerleader, offering advice when he can, watching out for their health, and of course giving unending praise. He makes sure to tell his sunshine exactly what makes them so beautiful in his eyes and how brightly they shine.

Jack pays attention to even the small details about his sunshine, what they like, what draws their attention, and what they have been able to accomplish. He then shines a spotlight on those parts of MC with plenty of encouraging words and love.

In ways Jack also takes on the guiding, mentor role, especially for a timid MC. After being scarred by Ian and so down on themselves, he needs to work hard to coax open their heart again and let them know that it's okay to love him and to accept his love and support.

A good example is Jack gently guiding his sunshine to his lips when they have the urge to kiss him, then further coaxing that kiss into a deeper one with tongue. He pushes his luck at times, as he's just so NEEDY for his sunshine, but he's hyper focused on their comfort. He won't and can't do anything his sunshine doesn't want to do after all.

Jack certainly is going to encourage any steps his sunshine takes towards him. Using Alice as an example, whenever she reaches out to touch him first, he tries not to call attention to it, since that could make her feel self-conscious and retreat. Instead he offers gentle smiles, returns the touch if he can, and is as encouraging as he can be. He wants to reward every time she gathers up the courage to do more with him.

He's careful not to chase after her when she needs to retreat. While disappointed, Jack knows that Alice needs that space for herself because she's overwhelmed. He instead focuses on redirecting her attention to something less troubling if he can.

Distraction from anxious thoughts are another tactic Jack employs. Redirecting his sunshine's focus to what they do right and how much he loves them can prevent an anxiety spiral that might lead to them retreating from him and his love.

Of course, if their worries and self-doubt start to spiral into a dark direction, Jack will help walk them through it. He wants to share their burdens and be a good friend and partner to them. He wants to be just as vital to their life as they are to his.

Jack's past psychology classes as Joseph help in this regard. He learned techniques about how to calm down a child who is scared or dealing with trauma. It doesn't translate perfectly when dealing with adults, especially since he's constantly trying to be Sunny Day Jack 24/7, but it works with those who aren't turned off by this kids show host persona.

While Jack isn't perfect at it - though he desperately wants to be - letting his own needs and desires for MC bleed through at times, he tries his very best to support them in whatever way they need. He checks in on how they're feeling, even during the most intimate of settings, especially when they're feeling uneasy or uncertain. For Alice, he's just what she needs during her most vulnerable time.

On that note, let's switch to the guy that left Alice feeling so vulnerable in the first place. The question was how all the love interests will support MC after all.

Ian

Ian is... a mess, to put it simply. He tries his level best, but he gets swept up in his own feelings at times, as I've mentioned in previous headcanons, like the big one about sex and love.

Ian knows what it's like to lack confidence and to view himself in a negative light. He's down on himself and very timid. He struggles with expressing himself due to being suppressed for years. He does best when being guided rather than doing the guiding.

With some partners, this could lead to overcompensation. Alice went out of her way to ignore her own needs in order to make him happy and encourage him. This feeling that she had to take care of him pushed her to do things before she felt comfortable or ready.

However, if Alice did voice she wasn't ready for something, Ian would've backed off immediately. He doesn't want to push his partner hard and would feel awful if he did so, likely leading to him crying. He just wants to be a good partner and fears he's not good enough for her... or anyone.

In a way, Ian then becomes the perfect person to relate to an MC who lacks confidence. He understands these insecurities all too well and can share in that experience. He knows just how hard it is to overcome that awful voice in one's head that says you're not good enough. He related to Alice and her worries about her appearance. He always made sure to let her know that he loves her regardless of what society finds weird or ugly, such as her weight or how she might act at times.

Ian reassured Alice that he only ever found her attractive. He struggles to put things into words at times though, especially due to his shyness. Other people are "weird" in his eyes, so he could never want to be with them like he wants to be with her.

Ian is someone very excited for physical intimacy, and once he is given the green light, he tends to take the lead in his enthusiasm. This can allow MC to not worry about making decisions when he lets his urges and emotions lead the way. He also doesn't shy away from telling MC just how much he loves them and how good they make him feel.

Even if MC doesn't feel confident in their appearance, Ian knows them. They grew up together. They've been his strength when he was weak. They might think badly of themselves, but he sees them as his hero. They've done so much for him, been there with him through his worst moments, and gave him the strength to pursue his dreams. They shine so brightly in his eyes. He's not afraid to let them know that they are the best thing to ever happen to him.

Which makes it all the worse that he cheated, but shhh, that's not what this post is about.

Shaun

Speaking of which, that gives a good segue to switch over to Shaun. After Ian cheated, I can imagine MC's self-image and confidence would be at its lowest. Fortunately, Shaun was there to offer support and words of encouragement. He makes it clear that he cares and he's there for them, always.

Shaun knows that MC deserves so much better than to feel like garbage. He's a big ball of sunshine, and he takes the lead with a friend or partner who is struggling to keep up. He is very encouraging with physical touch, such as hugs, cuddles, and ear scritches. His purring can serve as a very nice reward for MC when they have the courage to get a bit more physical with him.

Shaun tries to keep things light most of the time, mainly because he's wallpapering over his own issues. He's bold and energetic, and that can help distract MC from their own worries and hesitation.

Of course, Shaun isn't one to avoid a difficult conversation just because it's hard. He wants to talk through what's bothering with MC and help them work through their issues. If they don't want to discuss it though, he'll let the topic drop for something that they're more comfortable with.

If MC is open for it, Shaun is ready to give bear hugs whenever they want. He's got the strength to scoop up even the heaviest of besties. If they don't want it though, he'll show his support by buying them lunch or talking about something fun.

Another perk Shaun has is kitty therapy. Not only is he cat-coded, with his whisker marks, kitty eyes, and ability to purr, but he has sweet baby Moon Pie. What better way to soothe a nervous MC than with a kitty cuddle puddle with a precious furbaby in their lap while he cuddles them both close?

When it comes to intimacy, Shaun leans towards being a daddy dom. He's good about checking in though, making sure that MC is feeling comfortable. This goes for platonic moments too. It might be easy to get swept up in his flow, but he's very mindful of those he cares about. He's the type to take charge of things so that everyone gets fair treatment and feels comfortable.

When it comes to insecurities and MC being down on themselves, it'd come to a surprise to Shaun that they feel that way. He doesn't see these supposed flaws they have. Oh, he believes they see these flaws in themselves, but he certainly doesn't, and he's sure no one else who matters does either.

If MC wants or needs Shaun to take the lead, he's more than happy to do so. He can be his kitten's daddy dom if they want him to be~ If they need to take it slower and make the first move, he'll let them. Shaun is so worried about how MC feels that he's swallowed his crush on them for years. He doesn't want to lose his friendship with them just because of his feelings.

Shaun does have plenty of confidence in himself, but he's mindful that's not a guarantee of anything. It's also not an excuse to cross boundaries. Emotions are more complicated than that, and success plus a good appearance doesn't make someone necessarily appealing to everyone in all ways. His uncle is someone successful, well respected, and charismatic, but is very abrasive, as an example. He loves the man, but also can't trust him.

Shaun knows what it's like to be hesitant to trust someone. That's why he works hard to be someone that can be trusted. He wants to be liked and to help people to feel relaxed around him. It's what makes him a good friend and an attentive lover. He'll do his best to encourage a timid MC to do what they want, even if he might long for something more. He can keep his feelings in check to make sure that they're both comfortable.

Nick

On that sweet note, let's switch over to Nick. Granted, I haven't gone into Nick's backstory a lot as of yet due to his role in things, and my thoughts on him have evolved a lot over time, but he's a sweetheart overall in my headcanon land. While he has this influencer persona online, and a sexy, confident dom on LonelyFans, he is actually a bit timid when taking off those masks. He knows what it's like to feel easily flustered, so he does his best to disarm those feelings, letting MC know it's okay.

Nick does his best not to put pressure on MC. While he does ask MC out while at work, it was at a moment that felt right after some good chemistry between them. He backs off right away at being turned down and respects boundaries.

Nick was drawn to MC by how cute they are. He wants to learn more about them as himself, not as his online persona. He understands the pressure to perform, to push himself further to live up to expectations. He wants to remove that pressure from others in his life, especially his partner.

However, Nick's experiences with LonelyFans, especially personal shows with his followers, has given him experience on how to dish out praise. He's learned how to make various people feel good and cater to different tastes. He's dealt with shy customers before, and he knows how to take charge when they need him to be the strong dom, and when to be that sweet and seductive voice in their ear letting them know that they're doing a good job.

Nick tries to balance what he learned from his online persona with his real, kind of awkward self. When he's in a relationship offline, he tries his best to be his authentic self and not so much the dom persona. He'll do his best to encourage MC to be themselves too. He wants that authentic connection with someone. This means accepting that their authentic self can be a bit clumsy and uncomfortable with themselves.

While Shaun is more bombastic and energetic, Nick is more chill. He goes with the flow more, allowing things to slow down to a less stressful pace. After all, the online space is constant go, go, go, and he enjoys the space to breathe and just experience a genuine moment when offline. He helps MC feel more confident by helping them find space to breathe and slow down too. They don't have to rush when they're with him.

If they need Nick in dom mode he can do that, but he'd rather save that for when he's in the headspace to switch to that persona. He might teasingly switch to it during casual moments though, especially if MC let him know they need an extra nudge at times to get going.

Overall, all the guys are mindful of MC's boundaries. If they say they don't want to do something, they won't push it. They also check to make sure they're doing okay. They're encouraging and genuinely think MC is amazing. For all the love interests' individual flaws, they do try to do their best for the people they care about. They might fumble at times and make mistakes, but they do want MC to feel happy and confident in themselves.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

[may-bee-its-just-me]

Dearest, Mocha

I'm a month late to friendship day, but here's to celebrating our long-term friendship! Been friends since 8th grade (about 7 yrs now???) and I can't imagine what my life would have been like without you. Ever since the beginning you've inspired and encouraged me to continue writing and drawing characters and their wacky little worlds. From cringey teenage roleplays on Google Hangouts, to our Tumblr blogs of today - From angsty "my oc do not steal ™" plotlines, to fleshing out complex stories of overcoming adversity (while still keeping some cringey tropes) - You've encouraged me to continue trying to create new and better ideas and build on my skills. You help keep my creative spark burning, and for that I'll always be thankful.

I've been asked before why of all the people that have come into my life, why you're my best friend. "What makes her different?". And to that, I had a hard time figuring out for a while. That's because every person I've befriended and held close, I had taken a little piece of them and sewn it into the core of my being - And so, trying to figure out why of everyone I've sewn into the patchwork of my person, you stand out as my best friend, was hard. I love deeply. I'm ride or die, within reason.

Today as I was eating breakfast (at noon, naturally) and starting the coloring process for these drawings, I figured it out.

You and I have never gotten along perfectly. You have never fully understood me. You've even at times made passing remarks or slightly judgmental looks at my quirks. You have never "Read me like a book" as some others have.

In the beginning, you and I used to rip each other's throats out during arguments and almost stopped talking to each other completely. And that fact is what hit me - While my other friends had loved the good parts of me, loved the healing or healed parts of me - You loved me when I was nothing. When I was spitting at the world, mad at everyone and everything, you loved me. You saw me at my worst and still you stuck around. Some of our other friends from middle school knew me back then, but none had seen me in the light you did and yet every time my behavior caused you to back away for your sake (and vice versa), we always came back together and we came back stronger.

And even after a good chunk of our conflicts passed over- You had been repeatedly separated from me by outside forces for different lengths of time, and yet every time - You came back. You fought and clawed to keep me in your life, and I did too. All odds stacked against us, we are still here. We're thriving. We've been able to heal and grow up together.

Now we're adults, both of us heading toward our 20's and yet it still feels like last year we were in middle school typing away at our Harry Potter Drarry ship or Eddsworld apocalypse romance fanfiction roleplays. Here's to many more years to come - Creating even more stories, growing into adulthood, and walking in sisterhood as the seasons of our lives continue on ever changing.

I love you bestie,

-Bee. 🐝

[strongheartneteyam]

[ IMPORTANT: the picture in the middle is a fungi that produces a liquid that ONLY SEEMS like blood. It's NOT real blood.]

It bleeds and it burns.

Neteyam Sully x female!omatikaya!reader

Author's note: Neteyam is in his twenties and he's now the Olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya clan.

CW: established relationship, so angsty, broken hearted reader, jealous reader, insecure reader, mentions of sex, emotionally hurt neteyam, intense feelings, hurt/comfort, crying, forgiveness, heart wrenching but beautiful

Not proofread. Also, I don't really know what kind of fanfiction this is, maybe a short story ??? no idea. just felt like writing it. hope u guys like it ♡

( :̲̅:̲̅:[̲̅:★:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

And so it seems I broke your heart

My ignorance has struck again

I failed to see it from the start and tore you open 'til the end

And I'm sorry to my unknown lover

Sorry that I can't believe that anybody ever really starts to fall in love with me

Sorry (Halsey)

( :̲̅:̲̅:[̲̅:★:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

Neteyam would always take your hand and smile at you so sincerely. You could tell how much he loved you only by the way his lips curled up and his mouth opened up wide, his fangs protruding.

You knew how strong he was, how powerful he was as the Olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya clan. Your mate was a fearless, brave warrior, a skilled hunter, a beyond great archer.

But you also knew he would never hurt you. He would never dare to use his physical strength or high intelligence to bruise or betray you, in any way. Not if he could help it. Never on purpose.

Neteyam had the softest spot for you ever. He was always there to help you, to keep you safe. He'd spend longer than usual out in the forest only to hunt your favorite kind of meat, gather your favorite fruits, bring you enough water for you to never be dehydrated.

You were a jealous kind of girl. Whenever you saw another female na'vi, a stranger, who wasn't a family member or an old friend of his, gazing at him for way too long, you'd become territorial. You'd sit on his lap when everyone would gather to eat together around the scorching bonfire, just so all the other Omatikaya girls knew Neteyam was yours. That you two had made tsaheylu, that it was useless to try.

Meanwhile, Neteyam only had eyes for you but you couldn't realize that. Even though everytime you two made love, especially when he was going through his rut, he would worship your body just like you were a goddess, like you were Eywa herself. So, you ended up hurting him when trying to keep him closer. You ended up making him bleed instead of nursing his wounds. You would have anger outbursts, fighting with Neteyam and showing too much jealousy unbelievably often.

One night, you were crazily mad at him. He was late. Where the hell could he be? What company was he keeping?

When Neteyam finally came home, only a little later than the usual, you started to ask him a handful of cutting questions. You asked him - nervously and in attack mode - where he was, if someone was with him, why was he so damn late. You told him you were not a fool and if he ever cheated on you, you'd never forgive him.

"I was just looking for this." He handed you a small basket full of bittersweet little berries. "I know they are your favorite. Wanted to bring you some but finding them took longer than I expected. There was a nantang in the way." (viperwolf) "I had to make him go away without hurting him too much. It was hard..." He sighed, tired "Sorry for coming home late." Neteyam was so calm, his altruism ruled over his instinct to defend himself.

You were left speechless, full of regret, feeling sorry for... everything. You had to change. You had to be a better mate for your Neteyam. He deserved the world and took so many responsibilities for himself. It had been so since he was a young na'vi boy. He surely felt overwhelmed. Who was going to always be there for him if not his mate, the one he was bonded to forevermore?

"You know," Neteyam's eyes stared deep inside yours. His feline like ears were pointing down, betraying his pain "not everything is what it seems."

You were frozen in your place, looking down at the floor, not able to look him in the eye. Your thoughts started to spiral, telling you that you were not good enough to be his mate and you always mess everything up in the end. Some seconds passed while you listened to that wicked voice in your head, while you let your insecurities deceive you, pretending to want to help you, when in the end, their true intention was to drag you down, make you act in stupidity.

When you looked up again, he was already gone. You walked towards the door, despair hitting you hard, stealing the air that should be going inside your lungs and out. Your eyes rapidly caught Neteyam's silhouette walking fast towards the open forest. He would always go there to unwind a bit, to organize his thoughts when everything felt like too much.

You could only hope and pray to the Great Mother that when he came back, he would forgive you for how you had been acting lately, for not trusting him, for being paranoid. You hoped he would give you a second chance to make it right. You tried to calm down, to breathe. You waited for him.

After walking for some time, Neteyam was now sitting on a tree branch. That same tree stood really tall. It was the perfect place to hide and not be bothered.

Hot tears silently rolled down his face. He was the Olo'eyktan, he could not let anyone see him cry in the middle of the forest, late at night, so he camouflaged, up high in that huge tree.

Neteyam's strong heart now felt fragile. He felt weak. Almost nobody could break him. He learned to be the toughest he could be just so he could take the heavy position of Olo'eyktan, leading his clan. Many envied him, but, what they didn't realize was that the "crown" he wore weighed more than it shone.

He loved to be the leader of his people but that didn't mean it was not hard to try and not crumble, even on the face of such complicated matters he had to solve, even facing life threatening danger really often, to be the Omatikaya people protector, ready to fight and give his life up to keep everyone safe and sound.

He didn't have the luxury to put himself in first place.

But he was thankful for his mate. His safe haven used to be you. But you became darker with time, harder to deal with. He missed who you were in the beginning. That fresh, bubbly, sweet girl he fell in love with. All he wanted was her back in his arms. Sometimes, he did not recognize you anymore.

Neteyam started to hear intense, irregular sounds of brittle leaves breaking. Someone was running through the forest he was in, getting closer and closer to where he was. He was in a full vigilance state now. But it soon changed.

It was you. You were now standing next to the tree he was sitting on. He looked down at your slender body that, from so afar, looked utterly small.

"Neteyam!" You shouted, looking up at your mate. The frail eclipse light that came through the leaves made his bioluminescent freckles shine so bright, just like many tiny fireflies settled on his dark blue, perfect skin. "I'm so sorry! Please! Can we talk?!" You looked at him, pleading

Neteyam immediately gave in. Of course he wanted to talk to you. To hear you say "forgive me". To accept you back inside his arms. He loved you ardently. All he wanted and needed was you.

He signaled he was going to get off the tree, and, so did he.

When he got to the floor, you ran to him like he was air and you were almost drowning.

"I'm so, so, so sorry, my yawne!" (beloved)

"Shhhh... it's okay." Neteyam cooed, trying to comfort you. He held you tight in his arms, your skin glued to his warm, comfortable body. "We'll make it through. I love you, yawntu." (loved one) "Forever."

Your mate took your face on his big hands and, seeing you were crying, inconsolable, he just crushed his lips on yours and kissed your pain and angst away.

"Oel ngati kameie." (I see you) "I never stopped seeing who you truly are. On our darkest moments, I still remembered." Neteyam reassured you, his face serene and full of a burning kind of love, only and exclusively for you.

You understood. You finally understood.

You did not need to be insecure. Nothing could ever tear the both of you apart. Not even death. You could finally rest your head down on your mat and sleep peacefully.

જ★

I'm tagging you @yeosxxx bc u asked to be tagged in all my works and I'm SO sorry for almost forgetting to tag u 🥲 my memory sucks

[gremlinmodetweeker]

hiii >< I see you're still taking request so maybe can you write about how könig would confort his insecure s/o? not just about her weight but also her ability to do things? like "oh no I'm not good and pretty enough"

I'm going through a hard time right now so it'd help a lot T.T

(also can I slide into your dm? I want to make friend and talk about könig but I'm scared you might be uncomfortable)

Okay so thank you so so much for this ask? It genuinely warms my heart. I had an idea of writing a prompt for König comforting an insecure reader, but I didn’t really know how to start. This really helped! I do not know if I perfectly got what you wanted, but I hope it’s okay? Sometimes I am not very good at interpreting others, I admit. Also, my dms are always open (and I especially like making new friends in this community). I hope to hear from you soon, and I hope you like this story!

So, just under 2.1k words, all soft and sweet. Total fluff. TW for insecurities and self hatred, but it gets talked over. Story below the cut.

Faker

König sat on your bed behind you, watching you with patient eyes. You’d just come home from an outing, and though you had put on an act for others, he could see how it had worn on you. He knew that you couldn’t do it forever, but he didn’t blame you in the slightest. Nobody could do what you tried to do.

 You looked in the mirror, staring with blank eyes at your persecutor.

These hands, they made so many mistakes… These lips have uttered so many lies… These eyes have seen truth and beauty and joy, but now they see nothing but a hollow shell. Who is this empty vessel that stands before you? Did you ever really know who they were?

König stands up and steps forward, gently resting his hands on your shoulders, on the vessel’s shoulders.

“What do you see?” König asked softly, taking one hand to brush away tears you had not noticed.

“I see…” you paused, “Myself.”

König rested his head over you, watching you with his ice blue eyes. They looked at you, tried to hold your gaze, but the cold was too much for you to bear.

“Do you?” he whispered.

You blinked, taking a moment to sniff and recompose your dignity. Tears welled up further, but you held to them tightly, refusing to let them drop. But unfortunately, you are no God, you can defy no calling such as this. Emotions control your very being, and so you cry.

“I don’t know,” you admitted.

König let you cry. It would be cruel to stop you at this point. You tried to fight back, doing your best to build your sandcastle against the ocean, but with every hiccup you suppressed and every sniff you held back, the waves would wash over you again. And eventually, you gave up. You followed the siren’s song and drowned in your sorrows.

“I hate myself,” you finally were able to say.

König pressed a kiss to your temple and dropped his chin to your shoulder, “Why?”

“I… I don’t have enough time to go into all the reasons,” your voice cracked and warbled like a strangled seabird.

“I have time,” König replied.

“I don’t,” you said, your tone cold as the ice that he held in his eyes.

König nodded and wrapped his hands over your shoulders.

“You do not have to explain if you do not want to,” he said, his words like down on your ears, “sometimes, words are not enough.”

“It feels like they’re never enough,” you closed your eyes, unable to endure his watchful eyes any longer.

“When are they ever?” König hummed, “english is not a good language to express yourself, anyways.”

“Is it easier in German?” you asked hopefully.

You could feel König shaking his head, “Nein.”

You sniffled and opened your eyes again. You hated what you saw. You hated the kindness in his cold blue eyes. You hated the hollowness in your warm body more. Ice and fire, freezing and burning. What would be the best way to die? In your own selfish inferno, or would you let the ice of your lover’s touch shock you to reality? Or would that make you numb, too? Was it better to be numb because you had killed your cells through burning yourself alive, or through ice turning your boiling blood into nothing but a muddy sludge through your veins?

“I don’t want to be like this,” you could see yourself frown more than feel it.

“You do not have to be,” König reminded you.

“I don’t know how to change,” you replied dryly.

“Do you have to change to learn to love who you are?” König asked, taking a moment to brush his cheek over yours, water lapping over a sandy beach, “or is there something here worthy of love?”

“I don’t think so,” you muttered and turned to hide your face into his putrid mask, right where you belonged.

“Do you not think you are worthy of love as you are?” he asked.

“Why would I be?” you scrunched your eyes tight, tight enough to hear the water washing through you.

König carefully pried your face away from his mask, kindly not commenting on the mucus you’d left behind. Instead, he gently turned your chin to look back into the mirror. You groaned as he did so and tried to turn back, but such gentle hands became firm as ice.

“Maybe you should try to look at what is worth loving?” he whispered, “just try.”

“What is there to love?” you cried.

“So much,” he told you, “so much.”

You opened your eyes to see yourself. What you saw was worse than before. Red-rimmed eyes, runny nose, flushing skin. You really were a mess, weren’t you? You looked like you’d been drowned and then revived, cursed to walk the earth once more.

König cut off your spiraling thoughts with a piercing, “When I look in this mirror, I see someone who has been hurt for too long.”

“Nobody hurt me,” you protest meekly.

“You did,” his words gored into you like ice picks, “maybe, someone a long time ago said something to you. Maybe you made a mistake and it never left you. I do not know. I do know that whatever led you to think that you are nothing worth loving is wrong. It is not what you are. You are more than the past.”

“How would you know that?” you scoffed meanly.

König shrugged.

“Maybe because I know what it feels like to look in a mirror and see something I do not like.”

You turned and looked at him briefly before he redirected your gaze to the mirror, the ice in his eyes thawing with fear and insecurities you saw within yourself.

“I ask myself, what is there to love? How could anyone care about me? Surely, nobody loves me,” he said, “but I am wrong. There are people who care, they just do not say it out loud. Maybe it is because they are scared.”

“Scared of what?” you asked.

“Scared of being… Ah, what is the word… Scared of being vulnerable, I think,” König shrugged half heartedly, “but I think that vulnerability is how we grow. You cannot be strong by hurting yourself. Strength does not come from nothingness.”

“But you’re so strong,” you sniffled.

“I am strong because I saw my weakness, and I saw something lovable inside. So I worked to make what was lovable more important than what was not,” König replied, “I was afraid, small, and vulnerable. But by being vulnerable, I learned I could grow.”

“So then what does that mean for me?” you asked.

“I think it means that it is okay to hurt, but you can’t let that hurt define how you see yourself,” König hummed.

“What do you mean?” you asked timidly.

“I think that it is easy to think only of weakness. However, there is more to that weakness. I think sometimes, we need to be weak to be strong. You might be weak now,” König lay his head against yours, “and I think you can become strong.”

“As strong as you?” you tried to say playfully, but it came out grating like a gull’s cry.

“You do not need to be as strong as me,” you could see his face soften behind his mask, “you need to be strong enough for yourself. You cannot let anyone else define strength for you.”

“Do I need to be strong to be loved?” you thought aloud.

“Nein,” König’s voice hardened, then softened when he continued, “love is strength itself. To love and to be loved is to be strong. To love yourself is the strongest thing you can do.”

You pursed your lips into a line. Finally, you asked, “So do you love yourself?”

König’s eyes crinkled at the corners, “Sometimes. Sometimes it is hard. Do you not think so?”

You frown, “I don’t know. I haven’t loved myself too much lately.”

“I think you must find something to love in yourself,” König replied, “but that might take searching. You cannot let someone else tell you what is worth loving. I know it is hard, but once you find something, hold onto it. And keep holding on.”

“How can you be so sure that there’s something I can love?” you asked.

“There is always something. Even the blackest hearts can love the soot that coats them,” König mused.

You looked at yourself. You frowned, and then locked your eyes on his.

“What if I can’t find something to love?” you asked nervously.

“Then you must do the hardest thing of all,” König furrowed his brows, “you must fake it. You must tell yourself you love something, even if you do not believe it.”

You scoffed, “But why? That’s so stupid.”

“It is in the beginning,” König admitted, “but it is not stupid always. It gets better, but you have to do it every day. That is the hardest part, you know? Doing it every day. But if you keep doing it, it gets better.”

You look at yourself. Your eyes are not so red, your breathing has steadied. You look a bit better, but you don’t quite know if the word ‘better’ is the word you’d choose.

“So, if I have to lie to myself, what should I lie about?” you ask.

“Well, if it helps, whenever I see myself in a mirror, I smile at myself,” König says, “but I do not always feel it inside. But I keep doing it. I want to get to a point where I can smile in a mirror, and I can feel myself smiling back.”

“How did you decide that?” you asked.

“Everyone likes a good smile, ja?” König chuckled, “so why not have a nice smile? I think your smile is very pretty, ja, but do you?”

You cast your eyes down, looking into the deep abyss of your feet, then replied, “I don’t know.”

“Then maybe that is a place to start. Tell yourself that you have a pretty smile.”

“It sounds so stupid though,” you snort.

“It does sound stupid! But that is why you must do it. And anyways, is it not nice to smile? A smile is a powerful thing,” König smiled under his mask, “it is a tool. You need to care for your tools. So love your smile. It is, if nothing else, a good place to start.”

“And if I trick myself into loving my smile?” you laugh.

“Then find something else to love,” König determined, “there is always more to love, especially with you.”

“You really think there’s always more to love in me?” you shook your head in disbelief.

“I do not think,” König said sternly, “I know. There is a very important difference between those words. You should remember that.”

“Well, I believe you’re being stupid,” you snort.

“Believe what you want, but I will still have my beliefs. And my belief is that you have so much to love,” König wrapped his arms around you in a reassuring hug, “I see so much to love, so much I want to show you about yourself. You are so wonderful. Yet you cannot see that? I do not understand, but I think you think that there is something worth loving in me. And if you can see something worth loving in others, why should there not be something worth loving in you?”

“I don’t know,”  you admitted.

“I think it is silly to say everyone deserves love and then remove yourself from your own statement,” König ducked his head down, “and if nothing else, let me find something in you to love. If nobody else will say it, then let me say that you have so much in you that is worthy of love. All of you is worthy of love. You may not think so, but I love you regardless of whatever you think you are.”

“Even when I do things you don’t like?” you cup his head in one hand.

“Especially when you do things I do not like,” König affirmed, “because to love all of you I must love your flaws. To love someone conditionally like that is to not love at all. So I love all parts of you, regardless of what you may think of those.”

“You’re being too nice,” you dismiss him gently.

“I think ‘too nice’ is not real,” König retorted, “I think that is a stupid thing people say to avoid feeling. I am not afraid of my feelings, and so I am proud to say I love you for you. I just hope that one day, you can love yourself like I love you.”

“You really think I can do that?” you ask.

“I do not think, I believe.

[myfanfic-urfantrash]

Just a story idea I may write for this later but you're more than welcome to write things about it, write using all the details in here, and such just don't feed it to AI or have AI write for you

Cw: yandere, injury, hospitalization, dependency(?) kept as pet(???) Would this be stockholm who heckin knows

Short little story or maybe long story about Blade visiting a small shop that sells good food but isn't doing too well or something and blade is the gn!readers yandere idk kinda want soft and sweet...that turns dark at the end...like he's a 'stray dog/cat' they feed sorta way like he comes and goes and sometimes they won't see him for weeks to months but when they do they greet him with a smile and a "still alive huh?" And they talk to him about anything and everything and he listens to them quietly while eating his meal but he doesn't stop them even when he's finished

He leaves for a month or so and when he returns the little shop seems closed for the day, the lights are off but the sign is not up and the glass of the window is broken with pieces of it scattered on the ground he comes closer to examine the damage only to hear a faint voice calling for someone anyone and he creeps inside to find the kind person who has fed him this whole time pinned to the floor with a hand on their throat and a knife in their gut and he sees red it happens so fast they can't figure out what is happening only that their assailant is off of them screaming choking then silent they try to see what has happened but it's getting darker and darker and the last thing they see is burning amber eyes

When they come to they're in a medical bed it's not that comfortable and a bit cold but they're alive the soreness of their gut and the dryness of their mouth confirms that they lie there listening to the soft beeps of their ekg only for the beeps to quicken when their eyes land on the broad dark figure sitting beside their bed staring at them they relax almost immediately but the realization that they almost died back there in their small shop makes their throat tighten and they can't help the moisture leaking from their eyes as they thank him for coming reaching for him with a weak hand that he cradles with both of his own

As they recover Blade sticks by their side helping them with anything they need from helping them change their bandages to assisting them to the restroom this goes on for some time until they make a full recovery and though they're healthy and well they feel so hollow because they know they don't have anything to go back to they've been evicted from their apartment, their shop has failed to get many customers and they're not seeing profits, and more it's just awful

But Blade offers to let them stay to say goodbye to everything and start anew as a Stellaron Hunter? Maybe not they don't have it in them to kill and their particular skill set won't be much use for their cause but he offers them to stay and make food he'll support them just as they've supported him basically 'adopting' them it could be a whole platonic thing or it could wind up romantic and sexual I honestly don't care which direction it goes though I'm leaning more platonic because while he does treat them like a person he's also treating them like something pure and innocent to be kept safe by any means and that they'll be safe if they stay in his room/the base and he'll take care of any of their needs idk just them agreeing to stay with him and not wanting to leave because this life is much better they have a full belly, soft clothes, a warm bed, plenty of affection from Blade in the form of hugs, cuddles, headpats and everything is good

And like as he's leaving their room after wishing them goodnight to head out on a mission Kafka talks to him on their way and talks about how he made it hard for them to get customers, he made it so they got evicted from their apartment, paid someone to attack them and etc just to get his darling pet and he doesn't deny anything just looks at Kafka as she hums to herself wondering just when they'd fallen into his trap was it at first glance or when they gave him that first meal like a whole caution on feeding stray animals or something I guess Idk how my mind works but I'd read the fuck outta this fic but I'm currently too tired to write actual stuff so who knows if I will write this in the end