#obviously i love and appreciate the community i have

[gunilslaugh]

The Truth

Hello my lovely dear readers,

Have you missed me? I’ve had some thoughts about coming back recently cause I miss writing fanfiction more than I thought I would. However, thinking about coming back has had me reflecting more about why I left. 

In my goodbye post I said it was because of me not feeling comfortable writing fanfiction about other men in a romantic way when I have a boyfriend now. That is true and was ultimately the deciding factor in me stepping away from my blog. I did leave some other information out of my goodbye post though. That information being that I had been thinking about ending my blog before I even started talking with my now boyfriend. 

Truthfully writing fanfiction began to not feel fun anymore. This feeling actually started when I made my side blog @twinklingstar1ights I thought that opening up that side blog would help bring back the joy I had for writing fanfiction and at first it did. It felt refreshing to write for more groups.

However I felt like my main focus had to be on gunilslaugh. I felt the need to upload for my followers. Especially since there aren’t many writers for Xdinary Heroes. I didn’t want to let you all down by putting writing for the heroes on the back burner. This is where I made a mistake that led to me feeling burnt out and losing motivation to write. 

Another factor that led to me wanting to step away was some of the reception to my works. It seemed like all works that I was actually proud of and liked flopped and works that I lowkey hated did really well. It felt discouraging. I get and respect that people have different tastes, but when I posted works that I was so excited to post only for them to get such little reception it stung. Like I wanted to know what was wrong with them. Why didn’t you guys like them? I know that I shouldn’t have gotten so caught up on numbers, but it was hard not to. 

Maybe I was too in my own head, but I started to feel like my engagement with my readers was low. My works would get a lot of likes, but that kinda felt like it. They hardly got any reblogs and even less comments. I feel really pathetic for complaining about this, but it kinda felt like you guys didn’t want to interact with me. Like the last q&a I did, only one person sent me questions. I wanted to be a writer that had really good communication with their readers. I wanted to interact with you guys. I will take this time to acknowledge those who did interact with me cause you all were my favorite. I got excited when I saw your guys' usernames or emoji anons. 

My Villain Xdinary Heroes series got the most interaction. People left comments and anons sent in messages telling me how much they liked them and were excited for the other parts to be posted. That was probably my happiest time as a writer. Although that being said after wrapping up Villain Xdinary Heroes fics those interactions went away. This was probably me overthinking, but it made me feel like my works weren’t as good anymore. Obviously I don’t expect high interaction rates on every post I make. Yet for some reason only seeing like after like began to feel disappointing. Again I feel really stupid for complaining about this. Like who complains about getting likes? 

Writers spend hours creating our works and only getting a like button hit just kinda feels like bare minimum I guess if that makes sense. All those posts about Reblogs>Likes is so true. Reblogs make writers 100x more happy than a like does. Don’t get me wrong I still appreciate all the likes my works get. It’s just like a said hours go into creating works and a like button takes a second to hit and it’s not as personal as a comment either. I loved hearing you guys’ thoughts and feelings about my works. 

When I was writing the last of my requests before ending my blog they were just asking for their request. Which is fine, that's what a request is. However in the past you guys would compliment me or ask how I was doing, say that you hope I was doing well. I got to have that bit of interaction that I wanted with my readers. Seriously a “Hi, how are you?” or a “I hope your day is going well :)” on a request would make me so happy. I kinda didn’t realize how much I liked it until it wasn’t there. This is again I feel really pathetic for complaining about, but I want to get my truth out there. I want you guys to know all the factors that lead to me making my decision to step away. Cause in my goodbye post I basically blamed it on my relationship. The reason I did that is because as I previously stated these other reasons make me feel pathetic. That these small things grew to bother me so much.

I think if I look back to when my struggles with my blog started was when an anon sent in a request saying that they thought I wrote Gunil duller when compared to the other members. I just deleted that request cause it felt a bit back handed. Like they said that they thought I wrote Gunil dully then proceeded to request something. I understand constructive criticism, but this did not feel like that, it felt rude. It got me paranoid too. I went back to my ot6 works to reread them to see if it was true. Because if it was I wanted to fix that obviously. It was never my intention to write him dully if that’s how it came across.

When I write ot6 works I start with Gunil first, so in a way he’s the “icebreaker” to get my ideas flowing. Which could result in his part not being as detailed as the others, but I never wanted that to happen. My blog is named after him for peats sake. I love the guy (and his laugh). Anyway that comment just really got in my head despite trying to brush it off. 

Speaking of ot6 works. I mentioned it before but I actually prefer writing member x reader works, but most of my requests were ot6 works. Again this falls into my taste not exactly aligning with my readers. I was putting out works that I didn’t necessarily feel like writing, but I didn’t want to disappoint you all by not writing your request. It felt like what I wanted to write wasn’t what you wanted to read. My need to please my audience out weighed writing what I wanted, which again ultimately led to me feeling burnt out. 

So yeah even if I put my relationship aside I feel like the end of my blog was still coming. Writing for it was beginning to feel more like a chore than a hobby. Like I stated at the beginning of this long spiel I have thought about coming back. I would definitely be different than before though. I thought about combining my side blog and my main blog to just be a multi-fandom blog or maybe I would keep them separate, but not have my focus be on gunilslaugh. I would just write about who I want, when I want, not stress about having a fixed writing schedule. If I came back it would be like starting fresh. Gunilslaugh 2.0 Honestly I even thought about just creating a whole new blog, starting completely afresh. 

All this being said I still don’t know about coming back. I just felt the need to share the whole story with my readers since you guys have given me so much support. I’m sorry if anything I wrote in this offends anyone in some kind of way or made anyone feel bad. That’s not my intention I just want you all to know what I’ve been feeling, what has been on my mind. Why I made the decision I made. 

Sorry that this was so lengthy I’m done yapping now. Thank you for taking the time to read this. 

Maybe we will meet again in the future, stay happy and healthy. 

Gunil’s Laugh <3

[florwal]

it’s so hard to get out of the “i need to be recording this gameplay or putting this save/build out to the masses.” mindset, especially when people are being rude in your inbox demanding shit and acting like you owe them something.

anyway my save files have issues and i don’t plan on fixing them for a while because like i’ve said… the amount of bugs and problems the game itself has makes it a super frustrating and stressful thing and i’d rather not spend months of my life nonstop working on something that the game will eventually break again.

[fitpacs]

,

[ghostiboos]

Is there some kind of community or volunteer program I could join to learn how to make designs and modifications for prosthetics? I’m more of an artist than an engineer, but I’ve always been kinda obsessed with the sculptural properties of prosthetics. Obviously when designing one, though, function and comfort come first, so if I ever got into it, I would want to make sure I’m making things people can actually use (not to mention afford).

[ficsempai]

I think it would be cool if we stopped treating fanfiction like it’s a small buisness that needs more customers.

This toxic idea of reward for job done in a situation that 1) doesn’t involve money 2) is completely voluntary is a little fucked up. The only thing you might win is popularity as a fic author, which is cool but fundamentally not that useful irl.

Due to recent issue with some people arguing about how ‘AO3 should have algorithm’ and such… I feel like these tweets need to be shared out more. Saw this tweets thread by chance and I had to admit it’s a great advice esp on fic writing or fanworks in general.

[Edit] Also since I noticed this post blowing up, if anyone ever tell you that AO3 doesn’t have a function to RECCOMMEND fics you like to others or read other people’s fic recs on the site point them to this post.

[Edit 2] Check source for the original tweet.

[Edit 3] Not OP, but usually when ppl talk about ‘rude or demanding comments’ it usually refers to those that tend to message fanwriters to write according to what they want to be either on the flow of the plot, shipping, etc to the point of harrassment/toxicity. And that would make writing not be fun anymore for some. 

[eldragon-x]

Let me ask you a question, Light.

What it is, Ryuzaki?

I've been wondering: Who is your favorite Pokemon Mystery Dungeon character?

...I see what your game is, L. Deducing the probability of me being Kira based on my answer. Not bad, but I'm already ten steps ahead of you.

If I tell him my favorite character is Dusknoir, it's obviously going to link me to Kira. Not only is he a cunning, detective-like figure chasing after himself, but he is part of a species of grim reapers which can be connected to the shinigami.

But,

It would be befitting Light to pick Dusknoir since in the expanded story of Explorers of Sky, he grew willing to take great risks in order to make the world into a better and safer place. And even before his redemption arc, he is shown to be genuinely concerned about fellow Pokemon who are in immediate danger.

Of course, he could always play it safe and say Grovyle, who is a well-written and widely beloved character in the community. Not to mention a true seeker of justice.

No, it's too obvious. I have no choice. I'll just be outright. He can't possibly connect my liking for Dusknoir to Kira if I just present the facts.

I think my favorite would have to be Dusknoir! His development in Special Episode 5 was a fascinating choice and made me appreciate his character as a whole.

I see. I'm personally rather fond of Celebi.

!?

What the hell... Who would care about Celebi? Is this a threat? She is one of the characters who contributes to foiling Dusknoir's plans... Is he that confident in his ability to stop Kira? What is your angle, L...

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon!? I love these games! My favorite is Munna!

!

Misa, what are you doing?! Munna seeks to rid the world of rotten Pokemon! You're blatantly making a connection to Kira!

Besides, Gates to Infinity is hardly worth of the Mystery Dungeon title... It's naive message about trying to better the world just through hope... I suppose it is just like Misa to like this game.

Still! Munna is an incredibly incriminating choice. Dammit, Misa...

Ahehehehe... Wigglytuff.

[not-a-space-alien]

I've seen a lot of "You have to communicate directly/don't expect other people to read your mind" posts going around tumblr lately and while I really do appreciate them because it's a skill a LOT of people need to work on, I do want to remind everyone to please meet people halfway sometimes.

I recently read a story on Reddit about a guy's pregnant wife texting him "I'm craving donuts but we don't have any in the house 😔" and he DIDN'T stop to pick up donuts on the way home from work. Everyone was taking his side because "she needs to communicate" and "he's not a mind reader" and "How was he supposed to know she wanted him to get donuts???" People, ffs, why on earth would she text him that while he was at work if not because she wanted him to get donuts? I was flabbergasted everyone was taking his side. "How was he supposed to know??" What? Like yeah it's true she didn't say "I want you to get me donuts" with those exact words in that exact order but the reason why people get upset if they hint they want you to do something and you don't do it is because they feel like you don't care about them and aren't actively thinking about their feelings. Especially in a marriage or LTR they are in a situation where the assumption is you care about filling the other person's needs.

Someone who loves and cares about someone will get the donuts "without being asked" just because their partner expresses a want or need. That's what someone is fishing for when they say "Aaaah I'm craving donuts 🥺🥺🥺" It's less about the donuts and more about feeling cared for. Sometimes straight up asking "Can you get me donuts?" defeats the purpose.

Also, women are typically socialized to communicate this way because they're punished socially for being too direct. I've heard that people of color, especially black people, often do this too because they're likely to be branded as "aggressive" if they're too direct with white people. So it might be a good idea to be a bit intersectional if we're trying to encourage people to be more direct.

Take the stereotypical example of a wife gets a new haircut and then gets upset that the husband doesn't notice. She's not literally mad at him for not saying the exact words "I like your new haircut." She's upset because she feels like he doesn't look at her and appreciate the efforts she's putting in anymore.

Obviously this will vary widely depending on the nature of your relationship with someone, but especially when it comes to intimate partnerships, there are certain things your significant other should not have to tell you directly. It's probably safe to assume your wife or husband wants a birthday present even if they don't ask for it. It's probably safe to assume your bf or gf would appreciate a valentine's day present or a compliment without them having to literally ask for it, unless they explicitly say otherwise.

This is difficult for a lot of neurodivergent people to learn manually if it's not instinctual and they didn't learn it growing up (lord knows I didn't) and yes, it's true that most people (especially NT people) should learn to communicate more directly. But also, your relationships would probably benefit from learning to read indirect cues and just pick up the donuts on the way home because you heard your wife is craving them. Sometimes what someone wants is for you to think about what they're feeling and what they want and do it without them asking directly. It's up to you whether or not you do that, but sometimes that is asking. I think this is what people generally mean when they say their partner is "thoughtful."

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

CALL MY NAME AND I'LL COME RUNNING ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; satoru can be irritating, at times. but even if you push him away, he’ll always, always be there for you when you need him.

word count; 8.7k (this was supposed to b a short drabble but i was possessed by the devil halfway through)

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, reader n toru have a fight, mild swearing (a couple fucks here n there), hurt/comfort, satoru has communication issues but he’s trying his best, depictions of stalking (reader gets followed by a random creep but satoru comes to the rescue dw), uhh implied thoughts of violence? (satoru wants to Maul said dude but doesn’t), literally just me being in love with satoru gojo for 8.7k words straight

a/n; no thoughts head empty only gojo running through the streets like a wild beast looking for u <33 im normal about him yeah.

“you’re so annoying sometimes, you know that?”

satoru smiles. the sentence isn’t one he’s unaccustomed to hearing.

usually, the words are soaked in an undeniable fondness, as they spill from your lips. rich with exasperated love. one that never fails to have the corners of satoru’s lips curling up, a mellow kind of joy blossoming in his chest.

but now, that fondness is nowhere to be found. 

you sound thoroughly exasperated, and a little bit fatigued. more than anything else, there’s a vague irritation behind the tilt of your voice, something almost cold. it makes all the difference in the world. 

and yet, despite that, a certain someone chooses to pay no heed to the bad omen.

“aw, c’mon. you know you love me, baby.”

satoru is grinning. lighthearted, awfully sweet. there’s a certain smugness to it, though, one he couldn’t wash away even if he was aware of it; you wouldn’t do so even if you could. that smugness is a part of him, one that you’d usually find endearing. 

but right now, it only seeks to further your frustration.

it was a stupid fight, truthfully. completely meaningless. satoru had forgotten to pick up after himself for, like, the fourth consecutive time, and so you grew annoyed. not by a lot, but enough that you felt the need to be firm when you reminded him not to make the same mistake over and over again.

but satoru had only grinned, in that self-satisfied fashion of his, and apologized in a way you couldn’t possibly call sincere. then he did what he usually does — promises to work on it. to not do it again. he never follows through, though.

but even that thought wasn’t anywhere near enough to make you truly angry. what really began to irk you was the fact that satoru wasn’t taking you seriously, even in the slightest.

that’s how he always is, when it comes to this kind of thing. and you try to be patient, you do. you try to be understanding. sometimes you even appreciate that he keeps the atmosphere light, but other times, you just can’t help but feel irritated by it.

and the current situation happens to fall into the latter category.

you don’t care if satoru leaves a candy wrapper or two out, every once in a while. of course you don’t. it’s a silly thing to argue about. but would it hurt for him to just listen to you? to try to put himself in your shoes, for once? it’s not about the wrappers, or the undone dishes. it’s about the way he treats you when you complain about it — like it’s no big deal, like it doesn’t matter. even if it obviously does, to you.

so, gradually, the topic of your little argument began to shift, into a conversation about satoru. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to talk about the things that bother you in a serious fashion. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to take you seriously.

and he just keeps proving your point, with every word that falls from his lips.

at this point, you’re genuinely beginning to feel a little angry. but satoru doesn’t see that as the warning sign it is — he just thinks it’s cute. he’s just been cooing at you, this whole time, despite your numerous attempts to actually explain how much his behavior affects you sometimes. it feels a bit like talking to a wall. satoru keeps on teasing you, even as you try to be firm about your point, and only brushes you off with empty promises to do better and more unneeded comments about how much he wants to hug you when you pout like that.

and you falter, a little. of course you do. you’re weak to satoru. weak to his words, that sweet voice of his, that pretty grin. but that only makes everything worse, because if you let yourself look even a little bit flustered at his comments, he sees that as his cue to continue.

you don’t even know if he’s doing it on purpose, at this point. is he doing it because he knows it’ll annoy you, or does he genuinely not understand that you’re upset? you’d like to think that there’s no malicious intent behind it, but can’t he see how troubled you are? you don’t get it. you don’t get him, and that frustrates you most of all. satoru can be so goddamn convoluted, sometimes.

so you simply can’t help but feel annoyed. angry, even. how long have you been arguing for, at this point? you’re not sure. but you feel the frustration inside of you grow, as the minutes tick by, into something you know will eventually explode.

a sigh falls from your lips, deep and exasperated. a little bit exhausted. “i’m serious, satoru. you’re not even listening.”

“i am!” he protests, stubbornly. childishly. “you just look so cute when you’re all mad. not my fault you’re so distracting.”

satoru smiles, voice sugar sweet, but all you can do is frown. does he really think it’s cute that you’re upset? the thought makes you somewhat sad. but you can’t show that, can’t let that part of you win — you don’t even want to think about the possibility of you crying, because of this. yeah, no way in hell. 

so instead, you channel it into anger. as the blood inside your veins comes to a boiling point, you dig your nails into the skin of your palms, gnawing at your bottom lip and shifting from one foot to another.

”satoru, i’m —” another sigh, sharp and vexed like the blade of a knife. ”i’m trying to have a serious conversation, here. can’t you see that i’m upset?”

satoru takes a moment to look at you, from behind the black glass of his shades.

he can. of course he can see that. you’re frowning, and there’s a crease between your brows, and you keep huffing and sighing every three seconds — you’re obviously, undoubtedly upset. and satoru wants to take you seriously, he does. it’s just that the part of his brain that only ever wants to coddle and tease you keeps persuading him not to.

he’s not lying, either; you do look cute. almost too cute to take seriously, when you’re pouting so sweetly, a little red in the face from all the frustration bubbling inside your chest. you look so small, glaring up at him like an angry puppy. 

satoru can’t help but smile. it’d be impossible not to.

and he will listen to you, will take you seriously. he knows you’re angry, knows you’re upset, and he intends to deal with that properly. but he doesn’t need to do it right now.

just a little more teasing, before he has to stop beating around the bush. satoru dreads it, a little bit, dreads having to genuinely be serious, be open and apologetic. it always feels so strange, so discomforting. 

all that stuff can wait until later. for now, he just wants to see you blush a little more, huff and puff at his limitless affection, that he knows you love deep down. where’s the harm?

(and therein lies the problem. satoru is observant, and typically good at seeing the line that he shouldn’t cross when it comes to you. but there are times when he slips up, times when he doesn’t realize that his words have begun to sting. times when the line becomes blurry, because he knows some part of you enjoys the way he babies you, and sometimes it blinds him to the part of you that doesn’t.)

satoru is smiling. it’s the same as always — big, bright, glazed over with honey-sweet adoration. smug and teasing. it’s such a satoru-like smile that it makes your breath hitch, sometimes, makes your heart race with wonder. but now all it does is annoy you. everything you love about satoru is annoying you, right now. 

in your eyes, that pretty smile of his seems almost taunting. like he’s trying to pick a fight with you, trying to make you even more upset. you don’t want to blow up over something like this, you really really don’t — but for some reason, you feel dangerously close to. it’s not like you at all.

you bore into his eyes with a cold glare, even though you can’t exactly see them with his shades in the way. posture straight and rigid as you try to make yourself look bigger. you must look at least a little bit menacing, like this. right?

“i’m seriously angry with you,” you say, hoping your voice sounds as austere to his ears as it does to yours. “don’t you get that?”

satoru coos, unable to hold the sound back. he doesn’t notice the flicker of hurt in your eyes, only focusing on how the sunset rays frame your figure, kissing your skin with sun-soaked fervor. you look so pretty. and that angry look on your face is too tantalizing not to tease.

“aww,” he croons, inching closer to you. there’s a teasing glint in his eyes that you can’t see, unmistakably fond. “is my little baby that upset?”

you blink. his voice sounds even more sugar-sweet now, obviously exaggerated. there’s amusement there, too — like this is just one big joke to him. you think he must be doing it to belittle you, to embarrass you. speaking to you like you’re some kind of grumpy toddler, and not a grown adult trying to have a serious conversation with their partner. your blood boils, boils, boils.

— and so the cup overflows.

“oh, go fuck yourself.”

it’s almost in a hiss that the words fall from your lips, cold and harsh; they leave the confines of your throat before you have a chance to reconsider them, sudden and sickeningly heavy. crude, too. you’d never be so crass with him under normal circumstances.

but you’re overwhelmed, thoroughly and completely, and satoru is being particularly infuriating. you genuinely feel hurt by the way he’s disregarding your feelings, and that realization stings more than anything. 

so you can’t help but say the words, louder than you meant to, before turning on your heel swiftly and walking out of the room. 

you don’t even have time to register what you’re doing, legs moving on their own before your mind can catch up. brisk and heavy steps carry you to the door, all while you furiously attempt to blink away the tears of frustration that begin to form in your eyes.

it only takes a second for you to grab your jacket — then you’re out.

satoru hears the front door close, echoing off the walls of your apartment. you don’t quite slam it shut, but you close it with more force than usual, and he can’t help but inwardly wince.

a moment passes. 

then, he flops down on the couch, lanky arms and legs dangling uncomfortably off the edges. the groan that slips from his lips is muffled by the soft cushion as he burrows his face into it, while replaying your interaction inside his mind.

satoru can’t help but feel uncomfortable, with this conclusion. a little bit irked. a vague something rests inside his chest, something he doesn’t quite want to admit to feeling. it makes him feel a little bit sick.

(”oh, go fuck yourself.”)

he can’t recall you ever raising your voice at him like that. when it comes to him, you’re usually so patient; soft, understanding, gentle. for you to have snapped in such a way — to have stormed out of the apartment in your anger — he must have pushed you pretty far.

satoru sighs.

he really pissed you off, huh?

(he can never quite seem to get this right, can he?)

it was never his intention to make you genuinely mad. he just lost sight of the line, for a second. that’s all.

and maybe he was also trying to avoid the issue, trying to avoid actually arguing with you. because he hates it. he hates it more than anything. satoru would much rather see you smile and blush than act all serious and sad. 

he just wanted to make you laugh.

was it insensitive? yeah, probably. he just can’t help but fuck this up, it seems. now he’s gone and made you angry — and as much as the sight would usually thrill him, as cute as you look when you’re irritated, a pit of anxiety settles in his gut. everything just feels wrong.

more than anything, satoru feels restless. because, right now, there’s nothing he can do. he can’t chase after you, even if just to apologize — that’d make you even angrier.

he knows he needs to give you space. you were obviously overwhelmed; some fresh air will do you good.

it irks him, though. satoru wants to fix it. he always wants to fix everything, before it even breaks. and even now, all his mind can do is spin in circles, wondering how he could possibly cheer you up.

he’ll just have to apologize, when you get back. and hope you forgive him. maybe he can get you something sweet to munch on, or a bouquet of flowers. would that make everything okay again?

satoru doesn’t know. so he just scratches his head, and tries his damndest not to think of how defeated you looked before leaving.

your steps are heavy, dragging you forward, leading you somewhere you have no knowledge of. it’s chilly out, and the sun is already setting.

everything in the world feels so wrong. like it’s tilted slightly to the left, like the earth stopped spinning around its axis. like everything suddenly lost its saturation. 

you just needed to get away from him, for a while. away from that smug smile, that patronizing tilt of his voice. you couldn’t even stand to be in the same apartment as him. it’s not often you feel that way, not often at all. 

and it only increases your growing frustration. 

you are beginning to calm down, though — you know you are. the crisp evening air and the pleasant mingle of people soothes your muddled senses, smoothing down the crease of your brow and the ache in your chest.

a heavy discomfort, and a growing guilt. that’s all you can feel, as the anger slowly seeps out of you, turning into vapour with every exhale of your breath.

you hate arguing with satoru. you hate it more than anything. the guilt clawing at your chest barely leaves any room for anger — you almost yelled at him. just the thought of doing that to satoru makes you want to cry.

because you love him, at the end of the day, even when he’s being absolutely insufferable. he’s a sweetheart, your sweet boy, always trying to lighten the mood and make you smile. maybe you should have been a bit more understanding; you know satoru’s bad at this stuff, bad with emotions and vulnerability. and deep down, you know he’d never hurt you, not on purpose.

he probably just didn’t realize that you were genuinely upset. it’s a mistake that anyone could make.

but it just makes you feel so frustrated. like he’s not even looking at you. always hiding behind those shades, never opening up. never letting you see him wear anything but a smile. you want him to take it slow, open up to you at his own pace, but that doesn’t make the wait sting any less.

it’s not like you were asking for a lot. first, you simply asked him to pick up after himself. the way you do, the way anyone does. then, you simply asked him to treat you with respect.

a sudden pang of bitterness runs through your chest. sure, you could’ve handled it all better — but he could have, too.

every step you take hits the pavement with an irritated kind of decision. whatever. whatever. for now, you don’t want to think about it — all you want is to walk around and take in the sights, enjoy the peace and quiet.

so that’s exactly what you do.

before you know it, the sun has set, and the moon has risen — shining down and painting the streets in a mesmerizing blue, ephemeral and tranquil. it’s enough to give you some peace of mind, as you lurk around familiar streets, soaking in all the open space. so different from that suffocating apartment, and the man inside it, with that shit-eating grin and those breathtaking eyes.

(he’s called you, a couple times. you haven’t been gone for long — an hour or so, you think, maybe two. some part of you wanted to answer, just to hear his voice through the phone, but the part of you that’s still awfully irritated shut that down immediately. so, stubbornly, you just let it ring.)

the streets are empty, and the sky is dark. the light of all the lampposts illuminate your way, along with the soft flicker of the moon and stars. an endless galaxy stretches out before your eyes, little pale dots of stardust shining like jewels.

an ever-lasting, never-changing sky, that continues on for infinity. limitless. all the space you could possibly want, and then some.

for a moment, you can only look at the glittering stars in wonder, soaking in the feeling of absolute solitude. 

— it doesn’t last, though.

“you alone?”

a sudden voice calls out from behind you. close, discerningly so, enough to make you flinch. you curse yourself for not noticing anything sooner, caught up in looking at the starry sky, in angling your phone to take a picture of it.

hesitantly, you turn your gaze towards the sound — wincing under your breath when you see the man a couple steps away from you. he looks a little crazed, you think, shifting from foot to foot and hunching over. 

oh fuck no.

great, just what you needed. that’s just your luck, isn’t it? your brain can only spin in circles, trying to get your body to react, to run. to do literally anything except just stand there like a deer caught in headlights.

in your nervosity, all you manage is a painfully awkward laugh, as you stutter out a halfhearted response.

“oh — no, i’m just waiting for my boyfriend!” you smile, unconvincingly. your face must be soaked in unease. whatever he wants with you, it can’t be anything good.

at least you said that one word clearly — boyfriend. you can only hope it’s enough to scare him away.

but the man only shifts a little more, emitting a gruff kind of hum, not saying anything else. your spine tingles with apprehension. every cell in your body wants you to leave. he seems a little intoxicated, you think, and the thought only stirs the anxious feeling in your chest further.

god. why does this have to happen to you? why now?

thankfully, you’ve got your phone in hand. as your mind scrambles for solutions, your fingers tap at the screen, urgently scrolling through your contacts. in such a frightened state, your acting must be positively awful, but you make a vague attempt. not like you’re getting any oscars for this, either way.

“sorry — he’s calling me now!” you stammer out, taking a step away from the man. he doesn’t make a move to follow you, so you take your chances and press your phone to your ear, feet carrying you forward with haste.

in your fear, you don’t think twice about calling satoru — but you can’t help but internally wince at the decision, as the anxious patter of your own heart resounds in your ears.

how are you supposed to talk to him, exactly? what are you supposed to say? hey, i know i just told you to go fuck yourself, but will you hear me out? i need your help. 

and you do. you do need his help. all you want is for him to swoop in, to take you in his arms, your knight in shining armor.

satoru’s said it to you, before — that if you need anything, anything at all, you can come to him. that you can always, always lean on him, without exception. 

you know that he likes helping you. likes it when you open up to him, when you put your trust in him. when you aren’t afraid to ask for his help.

so despite everything, you hold your phone to your ear, walking away with brisk steps and praying that he’s not petty enough to ignore your call like you did to his.

back home, satoru is still resting on the couch, tapping his feet and trying to distract himself. 

he’s a little anxious. it’s dark out, and you’re not answering any of his calls. when you’re out of sight, like this, he can’t help but feel a little helpless — worried about everything that could happen to you. but it’s not like he can force you to pick up. 

you’re probably at a friend’s house, or something. telling them all about what an asshole your boyfriend is. as much as the thought stings, satoru hopes it’s true; it’s all he can comfort himself with. anything is fine as long as you aren’t out walking alone, in the cold, in the dark.

entirely caught up in his spiralling thoughts, satoru almost flinches when the phone rings. laying on the table in front of him, just within arm’s reach. it only takes a second for him to react as his gaze flits to the bright screen, and he sees the contact name, the many heart emojis littering it.

with a start, satoru jumps up. his back straightens out, and his hand flies to grab the phone — he’d feel embarrassed at his own eagerness, but right now he just can’t help it. even under ordinary circumstances, he wouldn’t let the phone ring more than twice, always giddy to hear your voice whenever possible. 

this time, however, he does falter slightly.

he takes a split second to simply stare at the phone in his hand, at the affectionate contact name. what is he supposed to say to you, exactly? how is he supposed to act?

satoru doesn’t know, but as if afraid that you’ll change your mind and stop the call, yourself, he opts to simply answer. he’ll just have to figure out what to say on the fly.

(unfortunately, satoru’s instinctual response to anything is either smugness or playfulness.)

“well, well. look who finally decided to pick up.”

you’re the one who called him, not the other way around — but satoru can’t be bothered with small details like that right now. he only hopes you don’t notice the faint nervosity in his voice, the stiffness as he tries to sound unbothered.

you don’t notice anything at all, mind far too muddled, too clouded by fear. all you can do is take a deep breath, desperately trying to grasp control over your wavering voice.

“— satoru?” you call out, voice meek and frail. the man in question notices it immediately, sitting up a little straighter, but before he can say anything you continue. “i’m sorry, i just — are — are you still at home?”

there’s an anxious tilt to your voice, one that’d be impossible for satoru to miss. your words are a little breathy, spoken in a fast tempo, and he feels a sudden dread crawl up his spine.

something is wrong, his senses alert him.

“yeah,” he hums, trying to hide the turmoil in his own voice. “why? is everything okay?”

the line is quiet, for a second. “it’s just —“ an exhale, as you once again attempt to steer your voice in a less nervous direction. “just… some creepy guy tried to talk to me. i told him i was waiting for my boyfriend and now i’m walking away from him but he’s still following me.” another exhale, as you worriedly sneak a glance over your shoulder. ”i just — i don’t know what to —”

“where are you?”

satoru cuts you off, voice eerily serious. his gaze turned cold the moment he heard creepy guy, legs moving him towards the coat rack by the front door as if on autopilot. 

he’s already left the apartment by the time you answer, looking around you meekly.

“i… don’t know,” you sigh. “i’m not far. i walked past that one crêpe stand by the park but then i, like… continued up that street? and now i don’t really know where i’m going.”

you continue, a little exasperated as your gaze flits around the dark street. attempting to recall your steps, a difficult task with how on edge you feel. “i’ll try to look for a sign, or something,” you gulp. “… i’m sorry. i just wanted to get away from him.”

satoru’s voice is comforting, when he speaks, eager to console you. grounding and soft. “hey, it’s okay. i’m heading there now, alright?” he smiles, hoping you’ll hear it in his voice. “i’ll be there before you know it.”

you do hear it, and his words ease a little of the anxiety in your chest, despite your fear. “okay.” 

the line grows quiet, again, and your brows furrow in worry. “can — can i keep talking to you?” you ask, uncertain. a little pitiful. ”please?”

“of course,” satoru answers, instantaneous. he’s already making his way towards the crêpe stand with decision in his steps, mentally scanning the area ahead. despite his own anxiety at the situation, he attempts to sound as secure as he can possibly manage, desperate to soothe the worry in your voice.

“try to relax for me, okay? nobody’s gonna hurt you. not while i’m here.”

his words are absolute, as he consoles you. he sounds so sure of himself, so much that you can’t help but believe in his words. so you nod, emitting a weak hum when you remember he can’t see you.

“can you tell me what you see, baby?”

“uhh…” you look around, blindly, trying to find some sort of meaningful hint around you. “there’s like… some toy shop?” 

satoru only hums. “can you check your location on your phone?” 

you blink. 

of course. why on earth didn’t that cross your mind before? 

“oh — yeah — fuck. i’m sorry. i don’t know why i didn’t —“ you sigh, heavy. “hold on.”

following satoru’s instructions swiftly, your gaze scans over the screen. he waits, patiently, already heading past the park and up ahead. as soon as you succeed in finding the name of the street, you echo it to him.

satoru sighs, a little relieved. “okay,” he hums. “i’m not that far away. i’ll be there soon.” he only hopes his words can soothe your fear, even a little. “is he still following you?”

you glance behind you, and meet the gaze of the stranger. just like you were afraid of, he’s still following you — if anything, he seems to have gotten a little closer. with a jolt, your heartbeat picks up.

“yeah,” you gulp. 

satoru’s chest tightens. he emits a low hum. “just hold on. i’ll hurry.”

focusing only on the tilt of satoru’s voice, you try to calm your breathing. you just want to see him. the thought of doing so is the only thing keeping your trembling ribcage intact, at this point. 

you swallow a shaky breath.

“thanks, toru.”

a sudden pang of ache sprouts in satoru’s chest, like thorny vines curling around his ribcage. his heart hurts. you sound so scared, so very small. 

this is all his fault, he thinks. all of it. he got too careless; none of this would’ve happened if he had only been more considerate. if he had just stopped you from leaving and apologized, or hadn’t upset you in the first place. then he wouldn’t have to hear that scared little voice, wouldn’t have to imagine your body shaking like a leaf in the cold night. so far away from him. 

but satoru can’t beat himself up over it, not yet. there’ll be more than enough time for that later. for now, he needs to get to you — that’s the only thing on his mind.

so he lets his feet carry him forward, running towards your location with bated breath. he’s sure you can hear it, through the phone, even though he tries to contain it.

the sound consoles you, if anything. it reminds you that satoru is there, that he’s on his way. that there’s no need to be scared. 

but you can’t help but freak out, a little, when you hear the man call out from behind you.

“hey!” he slurs, stumbling towards you with unsteady steps. his voice is loud, angry, and it sends your mind reeling into panic mode.

a flinch overtakes your body, before you stumble forward, walking even faster than before. you’re almost running now, breath hitching as you gulp. satoru hears it all — your panic, the echo of the man. his own tempo picks up.

“baby, calm down, okay?” he consoles you, voice concerned and honey-sweet. “just keep walking. i’m almost there.”

“sorry —“ you squeak out, between flurry breaths. breathing uneven, laboured and anxious. but you try your best to calm down. “‘s just scary.”

it almost feels physical, the way it irks him. satoru wants to pull you close, more than anything, but he can’t. and that just makes the calamity inside his chest grow, clawing at his ribcage as if trying to escape, to go to your side. 

(he never, ever wants to hear that kind of fear in your voice again.)

“i know,” he soothes. “you’re doing good, honey. listen — he’s not gonna touch you. i won’t let him. you have nothing to be scared of.”

you nod, even as you exhale a shaky breath. ”i know.” 

and you do. you know there’s a truth, to satoru’s words, one that’s never failed you before.

because satoru is your safe space, at the end of the day — he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and sometimes he’s bad with emotions. but he tries, you know he does. and, more than anything else, you know that he’ll always, always be there when you need him. he’ll always be there to protect you. 

and a part of you is sure that everything will be okay, as long as he’s around.

(it’s easy to forget how trustworthy satoru really is, how much he cares. how dependable he is. and how serious he can get, when he truly needs to be, despite his childishness. it’s moments like these that remind you of that.)

but it’s still scary, at the end of the day. you can’t help but feel uncomfortable, a little lost in the world. because you and satoru just fought, you just told him to go fuck himself, and yet here he is. running to your side, in the middle of the night, because you’re scared and alone and you need him.

the man continues to shout, behind you, muttering curses you can’t quite make out. you look over your shoulder nervously, steps hurried.

and satoru runs like a man possessed, through the moonlit streets, gaze scanning the area like a wild beast. his most visceral instinct is screaming at him, tugging at his flesh and bones, desperate to protect you. to comfort you. to wash all your worries away. 

as he makes a sharp turn, he momentarily stops the movement, halting to look around. he thinks he must look a little crazed, with the moonlight illuminating his eyes, but he couldn’t care less.

especially not when his gaze lands on a certain person, further down the street — small and alone.

your eyes meet his.

with the darkness of the street, it’s hard to make anything out, but the light of the lamppost helps. though even without it, satoru’s sure he’d know it was you, just from the sensation that unfurls in his chest as his gaze lands on your figure. 

an audible sigh of immense relief falls from his lips, and his tense shoulders relax, eyes softening just a tad. he hears a similar noise coming from the phone in his grasp, and he assumes that means you recognize him too. not bothering to end the call, he puts it in his pocket, walking over to you with brisk steps. 

you stumble towards him, yourself, the worried crease between your brows now smoothed away. the closer he gets, the faster you move, until you can see the blue of his eyes. two pocket-sized moons.

satoru swoops you in for a hug before either of you can say anything.

he cradles you close, awfully close, so close you can hear his heavy breathing against your ear. it tickles your neck, along with his soft hair, and you shiver. his fragrance envelops your senses, a blend between fresh laundry, strawberries and some expensive cologne. your favorite scent in the world. 

and suddenly, the world is devoid of danger. nothing can get to you while satoru’s there. all that exists is you, and him, and the soft flicker of the moon.

satoru squeezes you tightly, ensuring himself over and over again that you’re safe. he might be squeezing you a little too tight, but he can’t bring himself to think about that just yet.

finally, that growing calamity inside his chest is satiated. winding down at the feeling of you pressed up against him, the indisputable proof that you’re okay. with you in his arms, satoru feels like everything is alright, again.

the fear inside his chest, so foreign it leaves him shaken to the very core, finally begins to dissipate too. he doesn’t think there’s anything that makes him feel quite as hopeless as the thought of not being there for you when you need him. he never wants to feel that fear again. it’s suffocating. it crushes his lungs.

all he can do is hold you close, his big palm smoothing down your hair, the back of your head, your spine. warm and comforting. keeping you steady against him. he can feel your heartbeat, rapid and anxious, so fast that his heart aches. satoru is eager to soothe you, eager to make it go away.

”i’m here, baby,” he breathes, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head. ”you’re safe now.”

the words are spoken softly, right by your ear, and you exhale a shaky breath. you’re bundling up his clothing with your fists, anchoring yourself to him. after a little while, you let go, opting to wrap your arms around his midriff instead. nuzzling into his broad chest, you try to blink away your tears and contain your sniffles.

you nod against him, and satoru kisses the crown of your head.

and, finally, his gaze strays. it falls farther down the street, until it lands on a certain man — shifting from one foot to another. watching you both in silence.

the calamity inside his chest rouses from its slumber, once more.

satoru makes sure to keep his hands on you, still rubbing your back with one steady palm cradling the back of your head. keeping your face hidden in his chest, safe and secure.

then he raises his head, back straight, full height on display as his eyes meet the stranger’s. he can tell they do, even with the distance, the darkness of the street.

and satoru knows he looks menacing. he knows the light of the lamppost illuminates his figure perfectly, framing his tall stature and broad shoulders. and he knows the moonlight caressing his skin illuminates his face, his cold eyes — blue and uncanny, glowing even brighter than the moon. staring daggers into the man’s soul. if looks could kill, there wouldn’t even be any remains left to find.

the man stiffens, visibly, and satoru delights in it. he doesn’t leave, though, and for a second satoru wonders if he’s really intoxicated enough to come closer — 

but, sure enough, all he does is stagger a little. then he walks away, grumbling under his breath, hands in his pockets.

and satoru isn’t satisfied, with this conclusion. not in the slightest. he wants to run up to the man, wants to hold him up by the throat, wants to tell him off. because he has the nerve to terrorize someone like that, stalk them with intentions he knows can’t be anything but revolting. the nerve to do that to you, of all the people in the world —

satoru doesn’t know if he’s hated anyone quite as much. 

and a part of him wants to make him cower. make him fear for his life, just to make sure he never does anything like this again. leave him with a fear so great it’ll linger for as long as he’s alive.

(and a more animalistic side of satoru, one he doesn’t want to acknowledge, wants to do things that are much, much worse.)

— but you come first. without question, and without exception. he refuses to leave you alone, and refuses to make you look at the man for even a second more. 

so he’ll focus on you, entirely.

he can tell you’re still shaken up, heartbeat pulsating against him, little flutters of life prickling his skin. there’s a desperation in the way you hug his waist, like he could disappear at any moment. like he’ll slip away if you don’t keep him close. the sight tugs at satoru’s heartstrings. 

his first priority is to soothe you, always and forever. so that’s exactly what he does.

satoru smiles. it’s small, in the wake of the situation, but awfully sincere. fingers reaching down to trace over your jaw, he gently urges you to look at him; when you do so, hesitant, he cups your cheek with his palm.

your teary eyes feel like daggers to his heart, an unmistakable proof of his failure. his failure to protect you, to keep you safe and happy. but at the same time, he’s glad, from the bottom of his heart — that you’d let him see you like this. even after everything.

you look very meek, blinking the tears away as you look into his eyes. they’re bright, and comforting. you wonder if he left the shades at home, if he rushed over here so hurriedly that he didn’t think to bring them with him. you’re happy, in any case — the effect they have on you is undeniable. 

you can’t bring yourself to look away, consoled by the flickers of white inside his irises, like fluffy clouds in the blue sky. ever-lasting, never-changing.

satoru tilts his head, smile sweet and understanding. ”that was scary, hm?” 

his voice is tender, somehow so mature. like he’s some older, wiser being, comforting a scared child. it’s so soothing, so very grounding.

squeezing your eyes shut, you can only bring yourself to nod, as you nuzzle back into his chest.

”you’re okay now, honey,” satoru coos, smoothing down your back as you sniffle. an immense softness seeps through his whisper. ”i’ll always be here to protect you.”

there’s a truth to the statement, heavy and pious. like an oath, a pledge, something for you to believe in unquestioningly. you allow yourself to soak in the words, knowing them to be true.

you’re safe, now. there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore. satoru’s here, and he’s hugging you, pressing kisses against your shoulder.

but you just can’t stop crying.

when you speak up, your voice is weak, barely above a whisper. close to breaking apart at the seams. too tired after everything to resist the guilt inside your veins, you sniffle, and part your lips.

”i’m sorry i yelled at you.”

satoru stills.

then, his gaze softens, considerably. he hears himself coo, softly, palm smoothing down the back of your head. 

his sweet angel. apologizing to him, when he’s the one who started this whole mess. when you’re still so shaken up. because he let you leave the house angry, because he made you angry in the first place. because he didn’t see how important the discussion was to you.

(“you’re not even listening.”)

yeah. he wasn’t. he didn’t really want to.

an acute sense of shame. an intense guilt. that’s what he’s been trying to push down, all this time. that’s the unnamed something. 

it’s hard for him. to be as sincere as you, as open with his feelings and emotions. as mature. because even in a situation like this, you can swallow your pride and frustration, and apologize. even when you aren’t in the wrong. you’re always the bigger person, always the one to give in first, because he’s too stubborn to do so himself.

next time, satoru pledges, he won’t let you. next time he’ll be the one to swallow his pride.

because, yes, being vulnerable and admitting that he was in the wrong makes him feel a little like he’s being skewered alive — but you’re important to him. he loves you. and he wants you to know how much he trusts you, how special you truly are. 

if he can show you that, by being a little sincere, a little serious, then any discomfort he feels in the process is a small price to pay.

satoru’s lips meet the crown of your head, as he encircles your smaller frame, arms reaching around your neck to pull you close. he rests his jaw lightly on the top of your head, breathing in your scent. ”you have nothing to apologize for, baby.”

a pause lingers between the words he’s already said and the ones he yearns to say, but can’t seem to pull out from within his throat. it takes effort, to squeeze them out; but every time he replays your own apology in his mind, it gets a little easier. he squeezes you lightly before opening his mouth, as if to give him strenght.

“i’m sorry.”

you blink. 

for once, satoru sounds sincere when he apologizes — almost painfully so. bordering on something you think may be nervosity. you try to look up, to catch a glimpse of his expression, but he keeps you hidden in the crook of his neck.

”i was being immature,” he continues, sighing. you don’t know if you’ve ever heard satoru sound so uncomfortable. ”you know how bad i am with this stuff. but i never want to — you know.” 

he makes a gesture with one of his hands, as if that will say the words for him.

“— i didn’t mean to upset you. honestly.” satoru inhales the cold air, in hopes it’ll make him more honest. “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

you listen. intently, not missing a word, not a single tilt of his voice. it all sounds so genuine, almost foreign on his tongue. satoru seems to be trying to find the right words, grumbling a little under his breath. 

he’s cute, like this. kind of awkward, but that only makes him cuter. you nuzzle closer to him, comforted by his very existence.

”… i’ll work on it,” he whispers, at last. “i’ll listen to you. i promise. i really, really will.” 

you think satoru’s voice wavers, just a little, when he says his final piece. 

“so please don’t cry.”

this time, satoru doesn’t stop you when you attempt to lift your gaze, loosening his arms around you and raising his head from where it rests on top of yours. 

your eyes meet. satoru is smiling, weakly. he tilts his head, looking at you with something you could only ever describe as love.

”okay?”

such a lovely smile. so painfully genuine. his eyes are on full display, shining in the dark of the night, like splotches of moonlight. like someone stole the moon down to earth, and carved out little pieces to put in his irises. an ethereal hue.

he’s so gorgeous. hair just a tad messy, tousled from all the running he did to get here. cheeks a little red from the cold. when he smiles, his eyes crinkle. but he looks almost pained. 

(he was so, so worried.)

blinking away the tears clinging to your lashes, you simply stare, entirely mesmerized by the sight. satoru’s thumb goes to wipe at your glassy eyes, smoothing away the drops that threaten to fall. you want to engrave his expression into your memory, so you can never forget it. but it’s just a little too much.

so you hide in his chest, once more. the word that falls from your lips is tiny. “okay.”

satoru smiles, kissing the top of your head with a relieved exhale. bathing in your presence, still reeling from his show of vulnerability. he feels a little like he just cut himself open, let you peek inside his ribcage. the night air stings his skin. 

but you’re so warm, hugging him tightly, breathing and heartbeat finally relaxed. 

(he doesn’t mind it, not if it’s you — having you look inside his chest. if you asked, he’d let you build a shelter there. right between his fourth and fifth ribs.)

now that the words are out of his throat, they don’t burn at all. satoru feels a little silly, for being so scared to say them out loud. he knows you’d never use them against him.

all you do is snuggle closer, as if silently conveying your forgiveness.

you stand there for just a little while longer, wallowing in the tender atmosphere. finally, satoru makes a move to leave, and you begin to walk back home.

“sure you’re okay now, baby?”

you nod, exhaling a flurry breath. it turns into vapour in the cold of the air, drifting up and dissipating in the expanding starry sky. “yeah. thanks for coming so quickly.”

“of course,” satoru only says, choking back a yawn. 

your hands are intertwined, and he’s halfheartedly swinging them back and forth. it soothes your anxiety, and satoru’s protective instincts. you know neither of you will slip away, like this.

you shiver a little, subconsciously inching closer to satoru to protect you from the harsh bite of the midnight breeze. he notices, giving you a glance and a tilt of his head. “you cold?” 

“just a little,” you mutter, smiling weakly as you look up at him. ”i’m fine.”

satoru huffs. did you really think he’d be dissuaded by such a weak retort? there’s no way he’s letting you walk around all cold and shivering. 

so you come to a standstill, as satoru begins to shrug off his coat. he refuses to let go of your hand for even a second, making the process slower than usual — your heart flutters a little, as his fingers curl around yours, delicately. 

when he finally gets it off him, he wastes no time in draping it over your shoulders. it’s big on you, warm and soft, shielding you from the chilly air. satoru can’t help but giggle sheepishly, as he always does at the sight — you look so cute. 

“c’mon. let’s go home,” he grins, ruffling your hair teasingly.

satoru doesn’t feel cold, not in the slightest, as he holds your hand tightly. just your presence is enough to warm his bones to the marrow.

the silence between you is comforting and soothing, as you continue to walk. hand in hand, admiring the starry sky. you’re both too tired to speak — but satoru does so, anyway.

“i meant it, y’know.” satoru sounds sleepy, but earnest. ”i really will work on it.”

he doesn’t look at you when he says it, yawning softly and stretching his free arm. gaze fixed on the morning star. 

“oh.” you pause, squirming a little. sheepish. “thank you. i’m sorry that i — i mean.” a sigh. “i probably overreacted a little.”

satoru shakes his head, waving off your guilt. “nah. you’re right. i never want you to feel like i’m not taking you seriously.”

his gaze meets yours, tentatively. his eyes shine like wedding rings. “you mean a lot to me.”

the sincere words manifest themselves as a heavy pressure to your chest, closing in on your heart as if crushing it. it’s a pleasant sensation, though, overwhelming as it is. you’re a little scared that your knees will buckle if he keeps this up, but even if they do, you wouldn’t want him to stop — satoru’s love is terrifically overwhelming when there’s nothing to hide it, when it’s just love and nothing else.

but you’d never reject it. you’d let it crush you to death with a smile on your face.

all you can do is avert your gaze, afraid that you’ll fall into the blue sea of his eyes if you don’t. heavy thumps of blood resound in your ears as your heart beats, warmth spreading throughout your entire body.

“… you mean a lot to me, too.” you echo, holding his hand just a little tighter. warmth rises to your cheeks. “i just felt really frustrated, i guess. like you were looking down on me. i know you weren’t actually, though.”

satoru chews at the inside of his cheek, almost anxiously. “i know i can be a little much sometimes,” he says, tasting the words on his tongue. “and i appreciate you for putting up with that. i’m sorry i let it go too far. i’ll be more considerate.”

your heart stutters in your chest. you’re not sure what to say — the way he forms his words makes them feel so absolute. and you believe him.

“i’ll be more considerate, too,” you echo, looking down at the pavement. “i shouldn’t have blown up like that.” a pause. you mumble, quietly, a little embarrassed. “i shouldn’t have told you to go fuck yourself.”

satoru breathes out an amused huff, chuckling lightheartedly. his eyes carry a teasing glint when they meet yours. “i probably deserved that. no worries.”

“still,” you pout. satoru giggles. 

“we’ll both work on it, then,” he hums, tilting his head to find your gaze. “right?”

you blink. a small smile breaks out across your face. “right.”

satoru swings your hands back and forth, looking awfully happy with himself. you’re proud of him. really.

“oh —“ he says, breaking the sleepy silence once again. “and i’ll stop leaving wrappers around, too.”

this time, you’re the one who huffs out an amused breath. “thank you,” you grin, looking up at him. he thinks the sight is terribly precious.

a yawn leaves your lips, drowsiness sneaking its way into your bloodstream. you’re not sure if it’s due to the dark, or if you’re just a tad exhausted after all the arguing and panicking.

satoru notices, and gets an idea.

“you tired, baby?” he coos, eyes teasing but soft around the edges. “d’you want a piggyback ride?” 

when you give him a look, sleepy and kind of exasperated, satoru grins. you huff out an amused breath, just a tad embarrassed, but it only spurs him on.

so he crouches down, one knee meeting the pavement, letting your hand slip from his. you blink, tiredly, at the loss of contact. you can’t see his face, but you know he’s wearing that lovesick, smug little grin of his. 

”c’mon. your big, strong boyfriend’ll carry you.”

satoru’s feeling playful, you can tell. that’s usually a bad sign — but you can’t deny that you’re tired. and the prospect of getting carried all the way home is eerily tempting. 

your gaze falls on his back, and his broad shoulders. silently, you walk towards him, and wrap your arms around his neck. satoru holds you up by your thighs, and then stands up, jostling you a little; he does so without a hitch, and you’re reminded of how strong he really is. his grip is secure, and you trust him not to drop you, no matter what. 

you let out a content sigh, basking in the chill of the midnight air as you nuzzle your cheek against his soft hair. satoru chuckles.

”my sleepy lil’ sweetheart,” he coos, voice a tad raspy. ”lucky thing you’ve got me, huh?”

there’s a softness to his voice, despite the teasing tilt obscuring it. you can only huff out a breath, somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff, and cling to him tighter.

satoru will get you home safe. he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and he can be bad with emotions — but you can always, always trust him on that. 

so, with his coat shielding you from the chilly air, and his back warming you up as he carries you back to your apartment, you allow your eyes to flutter shut; enjoying the cozy feeling his presence brings you.

he’ll always be there when you need him.

[dyns33]

Flufftober 2024 - 29 Eddie Brock / Venom

Y/N had met Vee during a Halloween party.

A little intimidated by the crowd and not knowing anyone, she had stayed in her corner for a good part of it, until this giant with his incredible costume came to talk to her.

It would be a lie to say that she had not found him adorably charming, and she would have liked them to be more than friends, if he had not spent most of the time talking to her about his Eddie.

It was obvious that there was something strong and unique between Vee and this Eddie, even if he did not seem to appreciate him at his true value.

"He never agrees with me… He wants to control everything !" he had sobbed against her shoulder. "He says that I won't even be good at cleaning toilets."

"That's not nice. Maybe this relationship is not very healthy."

"But I love Eddie. He takes care of me and even though he's a stupid loser, he tries a lot. Maybe… Maybe I'm too hard on him."

"It's normal to have expectations from your partner. You need to sit down and communicate, to see what's wrong and find solutions."

"You're right, little morsel ! You're a good friend !"

Obviously very busy, Vee kept in touch with her by calling her almost every night and sending her messages, but never having time to see her.

He used Eddie's phone, while he slept. Before meeting her, Vee had never seen the point of having one, and he contacted her secretly because he found it funny to have a secret all to himself.

"But I'll tell him at some point, because we share everything. We're in symbiosis, we're one."

"That's cute. Do you think he'll be angry ?"

"No. Scared maybe."

"Oh." she wondered. "Is he the jealous type ? He'll be afraid that I'll steal you from him ?"

"I'd rather be afraid that he'll steal you from me, I think he'll love you a lot. And that's why he'll be afraid for you. He'll think I want to eat your brain."

Sometimes she didn't understand everything he said, but she found him funny and considered that he simply had a particular sense of humor.

But after several months of talking to him, he finally ended up running into him while a guy was trying to take her purse in an alley.

Vee jumped from a rooftop, growled at the thief, grabbing him with one hand, before biting his head off. Then he turned to Y/N, smiling.

"Eddie, she's my friend."

"Y/N ?" a voice that seemed to come from inside him asked. "Great, Vee, she's not going to freak out at all because you just killed someone. I already told you to go get some chickens if you were hungry."

"You never let me do anything ! He was mean ! He was attacking my Y/N !"

"Let me talk to her, okay ? So I don't traumatize her more than necessary."

In the end, Venom was an alien, and Eddie his host, a man not as horrible as she had imagined, simply trying to keep his symbiote from doing too much mischief so that they wouldn't be spotted by the government.

They fought often but they couldn't live without each other. Literally for Venom, even if they also loved each other too much to want to be apart.

As he had expected, the human had panicked a bit when he learned that he had a friend, that she didn't really know what he was, and that they were therefore putting her in danger just by talking to her. But Eddie had understood that she was important. He had felt it.

When Vee said that they shared everything, he was dead serious.

"I showed him a picture of you. He got an erection."

"Vee !" Eddie shouted, trying to silence the head floating next to his shoulder. "Shut up ! Those are not things to say ! Excuse him."

"Why ? I like Y/N, and you like her too, and she likes us. Her pheromones don't lie."

"Vee ! You're making everyone uncomfortable, stop."

"See ? He never agrees, he controls everything."

Y/N saw clearly, now understanding many things that had seemed a bit strange to her. She could have run away, but despite this surprising discovery, she really liked Vee, and Eddie seemed as charming as he was.

So she suggested that they spend the next Halloween, all together this time.

[wolviensabes]

Wolverine and Sabretooth in rut. You are completely screwed (literally).

Primal mutants = rut cycle. Obviously. Written in a headcannon style. NOT poly, the title looks a little misleading lmao. Not edited so pls ignore mistakes.

Minors DNI. 18+

Logan aka Wolverine

Logan gets crazy when he's in rut. He tries his best to keep his distance at first because he knows if he gets near you and smells you, he will lose all of his composure and throw you onto the bed.

He growls and huffs a lot, he's vocal about his needs and he warns you many times before he gives in. "This isn't like before...if I fuck you, I'm fucking you hard. Once I start I won't be able to stop." Logan's voice wavers with desperation as he tries to keep himself controlled.

The thought of him losing all his composure and pinning you down, making you take it, turned you on more than you thought, and he could smell it.

Logan gets a little cocky when he smells your arousal, and he drags you into the bedroom for some much needed relief...for the both of you.

He tries to be as considerate as possible, but in rut he's much more driven by instinct and focused on himself. He can't stop himself from driving into you and reaching his climax as soon as possible.

Something about him using you to relieve his primal need turned you on so badly, you laid as he wanted you, rutting into you from behind as he let out loud, guttural groans and growls into the back of your neck. He stretched you so good, and his thrusts always hit the right spots.

The marks he leaves on you are insane. He leaves bruises where he holds you, how he tosses you around the bedroom, his teeth and mouth leave various bites and dark love-marks. He doesn't mean to hurt you when he throws you around, in the moment he's blinded by his desire and he can't stop himself.

In the brief moments where he calms enough to recover some sense, usually only after cumming many times inside you, he will look you over to make sure you're not hurt. He wouldn't want to hurt you, but his instincts make it hard for him to control his strength sometimes.

He doesn't like you anywhere besides his place, and honestly...wear loose fitted clothes. Or nothing you really like. Because it's going to be shredded off your body. One time you wore one of his shirts and he ripped it off you without a second thought.

Logan's rut can last anywhere from two weeks to a month. He only experiences one per year, either in the fall or the spring.

He tries to disappear for most of it, fearing he will literally fuck you until your body can't take it anymore. But with your insistence, he relents and gives in.

He's so appreciative of you, you learn to help him not just with sex, but by making things as comfortable as possible. Ruts hurt. He is almost in desperate need of relieving himself, and you do what you can, even though he understands he can't constantly fuck you. There's always other ways you can help him.

When his rut comes to an end, he's more affectionate rather than needing to fuck every day. He tries to do things he knows you like as a thank you without being too mushy about it. He lets his actions speak for themselves.

"You doin' alright, sweet thing...? Nngh m'almost done...just a little more." He will grunt to you, either getting ready to plow you again or during, he does his best to reassure you with words even when it's hard for him to communicate fully.

Even if it's hard at first, you get used to it and it's a good thing to experience with him. It brings you both closer, having been there for him during it.

Victor aka Sabretooth

Dudeee please. Victor is quite literally an animal when he's in rut, he becomes 90% non-verbal, and all he wants to do is fuck.

The second you come home he slams the door behind you and grabs you, smelling your neck with deep inhales. His chest vibrates deeply, guttural growls escaping with each breath he took. His hands are firm around you, one hand moves to grab your jaw and tilt your head back.

You try to speak to him, but the only responses you get are growls and low snarling. You finally turn to face him, with great difficulty since he nearly imbedded his claws into your flesh. He huffs deeply, looking more wild than usual. "Victor...what's gotten into you...?"

He'd watch you constantly, rubbing himself all over you. Cooking? He's behind you, chest to back, rubbing himself against your body. Sitting on the couch, he's almost on top of you. He constantly is brushing against you, or holding you close enough to be touching him.

He grooms you regardless if you want him to or not. He will tear your shirt off and lick your skin, most of the time he aims for your tender spots. He licks your neck and ears, over your chest, your face, everything. If you try to stop him he snaps and growls at you, so you just sit there and let him do his thing.

He also surprisingly likes when you reciprocate. You don't have to lick him back, but messing with his hair or showering together is a good compromise. If you can manage to get him in the shower...he likes his musk and likes having his musk all over you.

Victor quite literally stalks you. He stalks you around his cabin and watches you clean or do whatever else. When you least expect it, he pounces on you and drags you into the bedroom. "M'sorry sweets, but you're gonna be sore as hell when m'done."

Victor is a lot more rough and unrelenting than Logan. He claws you and bites, he does make an effort not to cause any severe harm, but there's a first aid kit by the bed for a reason. There is a weak urge to hold back, but honestly he can't help himself.

He fucks you from behind 90% of the time when he's rutting, he gets the best hold on you from behind and he can really push his cock far inside you, plus you feel much tighter that way.

From behind he can also bite down on the nape of your neck, and he holds on as he completely ruins you. His teeth sink into your flesh while his hips snap into your ass over and over until cum is overflowing out of you.

Victor's rut can last anywhere between two weeks and two months. He also goes into rut twice a year, once in the fall and once in the spring.

Unlike Logan, Victor doesn't bother hiding his rut from you. He tells you what it is before he enters it, and he does give you the chance to disappear for the time if you think you can't handle it.

If you decide to stay while he goes through it then...you'll definitely be feeling it for two months. Nearly feels like he fucks you open, and not only that, but he is almost always buried lapping you. He licks, sucks, and cleans your sex, loving all your sounds of desperation. It just urges him on even further.

When his rut is over, he is visibly much more protective over you. You endured his brutality and slight aggression, now he wants you to stay at his home so he can keep you somewhere he can control.

Victor isn't one for words, he prefers to show things rather than say them. But deep down he's glad that you help him, he adores your willingness and it makes him feel more possessive over you. Big cat man purrs as he licks you clean after~

Ty for reading 🧡

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

Cover image from Wolverine Vol 8: Sabretooth War Pt 1 (2020)

[hoshigray]

Had the most random thought, but what if you caught Miguel by surprise and sneaked a kiss on the back of his neck when he's stressed out?

An: Don't mind me, just feeling soft for Miguel because he's corrupting my brain at the moment, lol. Also, wanted to write this to distract me from the fact Pleasurable Practice got smacked with a community label ffs. But, tysm for the love on that fic <33, and [MAYBE] I'll work on pt ii for next week! Thanks again, you lovelies, and enjoy!!

Edited Note: Also, here's an ATSV masterlist I made earlier for your convenience!!

Cw: Miguel x reader - fluff - stressed Miguel bc when is he not - you give him a kiss on the neck - pet names (amorcito/little love, mi alma/my soul; amor/my love) - just you and Miguel being adorbs and him being whipped hehe~

Wc: 902

"Aaaaaarrgh!!!"

You snap away from what you were doing to find where the noise came from. Not to your surprise, it's from your boyfriend — Miguel O'Hara, who's expressing his dismay by throwing another tray full of empty containers you got from the cafeteria.

The man is descending from his [godforsaken slow-ass] station, tapping his feet and huffing by the second. His brows are furrowed in anger, and he moves a hand to soothe his forehead with his fingers. When his post finally stops, he jumps down to sit on a chair and groans into his hands.

That was the third time this week. A villain was supposed to be captured and brought into the Spider Society to be sent back to their own universe; however, that was two days ago. And for some reason, this evil-doer has been hopping in and out of multiple universes. It's been a hassle for the other Spiders to grab hold of them; Lyla has to have eyes on them within every minute of every hour, and Miguel...Obviously, he would like to have this matter taken care of already.

You get up from where you're sitting and walk up behind Miguel, whose face is still covered by his hands with inaudible curses that you can tell are in Spanish. "You okay?"

The rise and fall of his broad shoulders entail a huge sigh seething out of his system. "No, mi amor." He frees his face only to rest his forehead with a hand propped by his leg. "This game of cat-and-mouse has been going on longer than necessary, got Spiders who're tired of the chase — I'm tired, yet there's more stuff piling up and—" He stops himself with another deep sigh, and you place your hands on his shoulders. "I just can't right now...."

All you can do is hum aimlessly while massaging his shoulders, his trapezius and deltoids tense with stress. You understand that a lot is going on for Miguel, giving him his space and letting him do what he does best: being a hero. But of course, being a superhero isn't all sunshine and rainbows, and you're bound to get hit with obstacles that'll hinder your progress. Annoyingly so, if you're a leader of an organization like your boyfriend.

Nevertheless, he's only one man, and you know he forgets this fact when he's too wrapped up in work. He's dedicated to protecting his peers, his home, and you. And although you appreciate the sentiment sincerely, you wish he'd remember to not go too hard on himself before he's burnt out.

You sigh through your nostrils, your hands kneading out any remnants of tension while Miguel indulges before storming back to work. That's when an idea hits you when your eyes land on the back ends of his hair, a smile creeping in slowly. Your hand brushes the lower tufts of his brown strands, and you lean down to press your soft lips on him after pulling his suit to expose his neck.

Immediately, Miguel goes rigid at the feeling of your lips on him. And his breath hitches when your hands wrap around him, pulling him closer to you as you lay your chin on top of his head (which you realize is a rare opportunity as he's taller than you).

"Mi lindo araña," You chuckle to yourself when you notice hints of red sneaking on the lobes of his ears. "The more you stress yourself, the more you look like a grouchy face."

"A grouchy face?" His tone holds slight confusion. "You've been hanging with Peter B. too much, amorcito." He shakes his head while you giggle, and you two sink into each other's presence for a little while, taking in the silence outside of the calming breaths Miguel takes. If he were to confess, it's as if almost all his fatigue has vanished into thin air when he's in your embrace. But he doesn't say anything — he doesn't have to. Because you already know.

You set your lips on his temple. "Feeling okay now?" His body vibrates from a tiny purr, and you remove yourself to stand up straight. "Alright then, I'm gonna go to the cafeteria to get something to share. Because you clearly need a snack. And while I'm gone, pick up that tray and those empty containers off the floor before Lyla has another reason to call you a 'grumpy man-child.'"

His face molds to a deep scowl from the mention of his pixelated peer's name-calling. "I am not a man-child."

You give him a look. "You kinda are."

"And what gives you that—"

"Muñeco," Miguel quickly refrains from arguing when you call him by his nickname, the name only you can use. "If you're not a man-child, why haven't you stood up and done what I asked yet?"

The man opens his mouth, yet no words dare leave. Reddish-brown eyes are honed in on your figure as you survey his reaction, and he exhales in defeat when he stands up from his chair. Your smile flourishes. "I'll be back," is what you say as you turn to exit his domain and head to the cafeteria.

Miguel watches you leave until you're out of his line of sight, unable to fight the twinge of his lips while he moves to pick up his mess like you instructed him to.

"Sólo tú puedes darme órdenes, mi alma."

[desperatelyseekingcannibals]

Telling Hugh Dancy about trans masc Will and more...

As some of you already know by now, I went to Boston Fanexpo this past weekend for another stop on the unofficial Hannibal 2024 Reunion Tour.

I had planned to do autographs on the Friday before the Hannibal panel and had brought some gifts for Hugh which included a copy of Adapt. Evolve. Become: The Genderqueer Fandom of NBC's Hannibal, which I compiled and edited last year. I also got him to sign my own copy (above).

It all moved quite quickly, but I did have the chance to explain that it's a volume by and about trans, non-binary, and genderqueer Fannibals that includes art, fics, essays, and personal pieces. He seemed intrigued and I said I hope he'd have the chance to read it and that the art isn't explicit/sexual but some of the fics are - he laughed and said he appreciated the warning.

It was all quite the whirlwind, especially after coming all the way from the UK, so I was absolutely mortified when I remembered the next morning that I had talked with a few trans Fannibals who had specifically asked me to let him know that he/Will is a trans icon. So I went back up to see him again on the Saturday morning when it wasn't too busy (and get more stuff signed) and this is what happened:

[I wrote notes down right after so this is as close an account I can get without having filmed it!].

Me: I saw you yesterday Hugh: I remember (smiley-friendly) Me: I gave you a book Hugh: I remember (smiley-friendly) Me: well, I forgot to tell you. A few trans Fannibals reached out to me to tell you that Will is a trans icon to them and we all love you for it. Hugh was surprised (in a nice way) and I was pretty much going to walk away then - job done and feeling like time for me to stop bothering Hugh lol. But before I could walk away he sort of held out his hand to stop me and said something along the lines of - I don't mean this in a disrespectful way, don't take it the wrong way... I'm genuinely curious- I get that it can be about identity- but what is the connection to Will and being trans? Luckily - my essay in the book is exactly about how Will can be read as trans, so I sort of gave him a summary of that. I explained that (obviously) both Will and Hannibal can be read as queer, and that - especially as both characters have dominant masculine and feminine traits, it's also easy to read them both as trans or in some way genderqueer. He was nodding and agreeing, so I further explained that with Hannibal, he is fully formed - he's already whatever he is - which Hugh also agreed with. But that Will is still becoming, still transitioning and therefore can be more relatable to trans fans who see that journey in themselves. So although it's not necessarily the same journey - there is enough to it that it resonates with trans people. I said that in the show there is also the added bonus of Will being seen and accepted for who he is, just as trans people wish to be. He was nodding along and agreeing with me and then he thanked me for explaining that. It was pretty quiet previously but I'd been there a few minutes so the queue was building up a little but he was so focused on me - so genuinely intent on hearing what I had to say and learning more. SO I CARRIED ON. (lols) I explained to him that it goes further than the show, that we have found a community in the fandom and that many trans people have a catalyst in their life that sparks their journey - like Will had in his friendship with Hannibal. For us it might be a person, an event, or even a TV show. I explained how the fandom are so supportive of trans people - that we are SEEN. That I for one wouldn't have been able to afford top surgery without the kind donations of Fannibals back when I was not in a good place (mentally or financially). That we all help each other and for some of us that has been life-saving. He did the hand on heart thing and said "wow" and was clearly moved. I said to him that so much of this is in the book, that I completely understand if he doesn't want to read the fanfic, but I really hope that he will at least read each of the personal pieces - that each of the fics and art also have a little write up from their creator about what the show and/or fandom has meant to them and their gender journey - how important this has been in our lives. He repeated a couple of times that he would definitely read it. I thanked him and he held out his hand and gave me the most genuine hand shake I've had in my life.

I want to really stress here how much this was instigated by Hugh. That he really wanted to know more and understand and didn't even look at the slowly growing queue but was instead intently focused on knowing more about the trans Fannibals and about why this show and the characters mean so much to us.

I then went off and spoke with a few Fannibal friends in the queue before getting around the corner to another Fannibal friend and having a bit of an emotional moment/breakdown. I can't even explain how grateful I am that he gave me the opportunity to explain all this to him. And I was especially glad I got to tell that Will is a trans icon because I'd have felt terrible if I'd have not done that after people had asked!! Thank you for trusting me to pass that message on for you!

💖

I know for many of you Adapt. Evolve. Become: The Genderqueer Fandom of NBC's Hannibal might have gone a little under the radar. So here is some more about that >>

It was compiled last year for Trans Hanni Day, edited by Max Turner of (and in conjunction with) A Coup of Owls Press - and published under Max's ACoO imprint.

It features essays, personal pieces, fanart and fanfic by and about trans, non-binary, genderqueer and otherwise non-cis Fannibals.

IT IS FREE TO DOWNLOAD, however we ask that if you do that, please consider donating to one of the linked trans orgs if you can afford to (or a similar organisation/charity of your choice).

It can be purchased on Amazon, however, as the proceeds go to charity, and Amazon only gives royalties, more is earned/given if bought directly via Max's shop.

Dearest trans Fannibals, please know that YOU ARE SEEN!

[contentloadingandstuff]

(NSFW) Perfect Match - Tighnari x Fem!Tighnarian!Reader

A/N: Here's the third fem reader post for the few that happen to be on this blog. It's been some time since I last wrote a fic like this, but it's always nice to have a switch of perspective. As usual, and especially with this one as fem reader is not my forte, I'd really appreciate any thoughts and feedback you might have. Enjoy! CW: Tighnari is a little feral, reader and Tighnari go into heat, the usual smut.

Tighnari is such a contrast. Daily, he's quiet, patient and gentle (unless the circumstances demand something more than words), but when the heat grows, he turns just a little bit feral with you. 

The reason? Simple - he loves you. Oh, yeah, and the hormones also play a part in melting his needy brain. 

You've been together for some time now and Tighnari's instincts gave you the tag of his mate and he acted accordingly long before really acknowledging this. And, speaking honestly, he doesn't mind acting a little instinctual as long as you're fine with it. 

Keeping you close and protecting you is what he is meant to do with you as his female. Tighnari frequently takes the initiative in simple, everyday matters. Need to get out of a crowd? He's already holding your hand and guiding you safely through the people to a quieter place. When cuddling in bed, he always shifts to be the big spoon, security your smaller, warm body in his hold, close - just as you should be. If there is any imminent danger, you'll quickly find yourself gently pushed back behind him by his arm.  

He'll get possessive at times too. When he notices any other male forest rangers eyeing you with the curiosity you've got accustomed too - ears and a tail as beautiful as yours draw attention, obviously - his hand will make its way to your hip and stay there. When it's the heat season, Tighnari will also get quite defensive with you. If anybody is as little as unkind to you, he will step in to get them off your back. With all this comes a little bit of obvious suspicion, but simple communication is always enough to ease his worries about any of the other men you’re colleagues or friends with. 

Does it all bother you? Oh, not at all! How could it when every inch of him just radiates this unexplainable male allure you can't get enough of? 

There's something fascinating about the way he carries himself that you can't quite explain. It's how decisive he is, it's in the unique tone of his voice, it's in his subtly dominant nature. Your eyes pick up seemingly trivial things that you can't help but marvel at. You love how strong he is, be that due to his Vision or just how he is - nothing makes you more excited than being picked up (and pinned down too!). He does this with such ease too…

Being a young hybrid, Tighnari has his needs that, if not satiated, make him grumpy and quite irritated. If you're not feeling like it, he'll understand - as any good partner should. Which doesn't mean he won't be disappointed, mind you. A horny Tighnari significantly increases your chances of stumbling upon him furiously stroking himself or hearing his needy moans in the night as he blows another unsatisfying load. 

Even though his hand was enough to keep his lust at bay, it was hardly satisfying. Luckily, the days of jerking the edge off are gone now. Why cum into a tissue when he can empty his balls inside you? Compared to his hand your fertile, warm and wet pussy feels like absolute heaven…

… And his fat, pulsating cock is the ideal extinguisher for the fire in your womb. Your hybrid nature leaves you just as prone to bursts of irresistible arousal as him. Your heat might be a single month at the start of the year, but living alongside a fellow tighnarian makes your brain buzz with hormones. 

Between the two of you, there's a simple rule - when you're horny, you fuck. He knows well that when his thoughts wander, there's no way of fighting them off. That's when he'll signal his needs to you. Looking at you with those smug bedroom eyes, for example, is a clear sign that Tighnari would like to see you on the bed head-down-ass-up in the immediate future. 

Usually, it's your smell that catches his attention. His sensitive nose can pick it up flawlessly each time. Your scent is gentle, with only the slightest hint of musk included in the mix. You'll find Tighnari cuddling especially tightly in the mornings or after physical activity when your pheromones are at their strongest. It won't take much time for his hands to wander and his cock to harden. 

His scent is the perfect moisturizer for your pussy, yes, but it's also a little bothersome. Because. It. Is. Everywhere. On the pillows, on the couch, on the chairs, inside every room from the bedroom down to even the closet. In the first two months of the year it's just straight up impossible to ignore it or distract yourself from your husband's pheromones. Sometimes you're wondering if your ancestors were idiotic enough to not breed by themselves,  forcing evolution into giving them this neuron activation upon catching a whiff of dick or pussy. 

For example, doing laundry is tricky to do without getting flustered or horny. Tighnari’s musk is, obviously, the strongest on his clothes. So whenever you pick up one of his shirts or boxers and your sensitive nose finds just how strong his smell is, you suddenly become flustered and very interested in what's under the pair he is wearing right now. 

Luckily for you, Tighnari is a good husband and will fuck his cute little wife senseless when she needs it, and you’re more than glad to return the favour when he is in need. It's a simple instinct. You're his mate, and he is yours. Your scents are impossible to ignore, sending the more primal parts of your brains a simple message - you're both young, beautiful, healthy and ready to breed. Around him, your pussy clenches at nothing, your womb longing to be filled with baby-making cum, and around you his balls ache from all the creamy, virile seed he is making for you. 

This awareness, awareness of you being ripe for the picking, makes you irresistible for him. 

Although Tighnari's cock might be average in size, what he lacks in length he makes up for in sex drive and pure ferocity. He can fuck fast and he can fuck hard. He won't be stopping himself from manhandling you - you'll surely be surprised by just how strong a male like him can be. Whatever playful resistance efforts you may make and regardless of how much force you put into them, Tighnari will just growl and pin you down every single time. 

Primal play always gets him hot and bothered. In bed, he's the natural lead. He's the hungry predator, and you're his cute little prey. Struggle all you can, but at the end there's no escape from a thorough breeding. His hybrid stamina lets him cum again and again with barely any downtime between powerful orgasms that fill your insides with warm cum. 

His go to position is prone bone. Having your smaller, feminine body pinned under his weight, your hands locked under his and your pretty mouth desperately biting the sheets as he forces his swollen knot in and out of you drives him positively feral. Doggy style is also quite fun. Grabbing your tail and pulling it away to reveal your tight little asshole and drenched pussy lips is extremely satisfying. Sometimes he grabs your head and pulls it back, thoroughly enjoying the sight of your long ears folding in submission. 

While he isn't too much into receiving oral, he won't ever pass up the opportunity to feast on your pussy. If you give him the chance to, you'll find Tighnari greedily lapping at your folds, drinking up your scent and arousal like a parched man. When you sit on his face, you'll have a nice view of his cock, swollen, twitchy and overflowing with precum, just waiting to nestle in between your warm lower lips. How can this sight make you anything but absolutely crazy for his dick? You'll often find yourself locked in a sixty-nine with both of you furiously licking each other with your rough tongues. If he couples it with a passionate fuck afterwards, you'll be lucky to have your pretty legs work in the morning. 

But it is in January and February when your lust really makes an appearance. These two months are usually taken out of the calendar for you two - being apart from each other during your heat after having tasted what having a mate feels like is torture. Not even the best toys can replace him - they won't ever mimic his warmth, his desperate and frustrated groans, his arms locking your body in place or his ears, trembling and folding from the pleasure as he breeds you. 

His instincts tell him to pump a litter or two into your womb, and he'll announce his needs to you, whether you decide to go through with it or not. A condom or a pill is an absolute must if you want to be safe - it's usually very difficult to keep yourself from letting the lust take full control. It's absolutely not because your pussy milks him and throbs so much, desperate to suck him in just that millimeter deeper and get absolutely pumped with his baby making milk and end up leg locking him. 

Mornings with Tighnari are always fun, regardless of the season. You'll sometimes wake up to the sensation of him rubbing his length along your ass, moaning your name softly into your ear and asking, begging to be let in. You usually let him - it's not like you're not guilty of blowing him awake either. Whoever is the “waker-up”, they can certainly expect a wonderful, lazy morning breeding.

Thanks for reading!

[gamblersdoll]

Heyyy! i want to start off by saying as a fellow black girl i love how you not only use your platform to write smuts but also to spread awareness and speak upon what happens in our community I really appreciate it🩷🩷 since requests are open temporarily i was wondering if i can get more bakugo x black reader where we ride himm i don't know i have a thing for whinyy lowkey subby bakugo and you write him so gooddd😩😩😩😩😫😫😫

thank you baby. nsfw, bottom bakugou, riding.

“baby, baby, baby..” he babbles, it was a long day for him. it’s obviously too hot, too needing of his job, and most importantly, his urges.

you rode him so good, humping away all of his troubles and bouncing his mind numb. he was so tired, his eyes roll back and hes got such a runny, red nose.

“hm?” you coo, hands gliding up and down his chest. your hips slow, and he exasperates.

“no—fuck, please, mama.” he whines, hands gripping your thighs. “please dont stop, go faster..”

you nod, kissing his cheek and forcing your hips to go up, then down on his cock faster. “like this, kats?” he nods, and squeezes his eyes shut as tears dribble down his cheeks. “oh, poor baby.”

hes got to be so sleepy and needy, his moans turn to pants as he grips your hips and push pulls you back and forth. “god— haa..!” he swallows his thick spit, “comin—“

he whimpers, pulling your hips down and stilling your body as he tries to collect himself.

tries, but its hard for him.

and you know hes such a dork, crawling off of his body to lie next to him and kiss his knuckles.

[reason-with-the-underdog]

you were not mine to save -> to be loved is to be changed

i keep thinking about how

if you boil down alhaitham & kaveh's akademiya-era fallout fight, it was that alhaitham wanted to change kaveh & kaveh could never agree with his proposed course of action

but now, as full grown adults, alhaitham isnt trying to change kaveh anymore

that core conflict does reoccur, as it did during Parade of Providence when alhaitham lectured kaveh after Act II & kaveh got annoyed

(even though Alhaitham was obviously just worried about kaveh's health/wellbeing...)

this is a common pattern of behavior for them: alhaitham is worried about kaveh & kaveh reacts defensively to it

which speaks to how stubborn & hyper-independent kaveh is

despite being someone who's dedicated to giving back to the community and contributing towards the larger social good, he's quite determined on his own path in life

he'll bear the consequences (ie bankruptcy) all by himself if necessary...! and he's much too stubborn to be talked out of his own decisions

i dont think there was any possible way kaveh could have walked away from the wrecks of the first build of alcazarzaray and still be at peace with himself

and kaveh even admits he was naive (in his teapot dialogue), but he doesnt regret it still even now

so i think its cool alhaitham realised that there's no point in trying to convince kaveh to change who he is

such is kaveh. kaveh will not be someone different, not even for alhaitham. his work & altruism are parts of his core identity

why fight a mountain who will not be moved?

instead, alhaitham goes for more "harm reduction" strategies:

help cover kaveh's bar tabs, which means he's also the one lambad calls to pick up kaveh & see kaveh home safely

snark at kaveh when he's ranting about clients to keep him in a righteous mood instead of getting depressed

there's a quote about how to be loved is to be changed....

and alhaitham certainly has changed so much from that smart-mouthed student who had pinpointed what he thought was the root of kaveh's overbearing altruism and figured he could fix kaveh's problems with that knowledge!

to now as an adult with a lot more life experience: alhaitham knows that kaveh isn't his to save

and the more he tries to force kaveh to changing, the more likely kaveh is to dig his heels in

alhaitham doesnt need to be kaveh's minder or overbearing best friend--

he wants to be kaveh's partner, his equal, which means respecting kaveh's choices for what they are

anyways kaveh's drowner analogy works rly nicely for this core conflict between them (changing people vs supporting them and protecting them from harm)

& i cant believe its canon

i really appreciate this aspect of their relationship too-- it feels very mature & realistic...

how easy it would be if you could just TELL someone how to fix their problems!

its very frustrating to see someone you care about run straight towards problems again & again...

but you can't change someone's mind bc you want it to be that way. they have to decide on their own, on their own volition, and to truly believe in their decision, for the changes to really stick

as much as it sucks that you can't just solve people's problems for them

the human experience is so much richer for all of our different perspectives and ideas and principles that will not be compromised bc someone else wanted it to be

you can't control people's thoughts & that's for the best (also alhaitham's SQ is literally about this lmao)

[starshipsofstarlord]

sub!daryl headcanons

summary. what it would be like to have a subby daryl at your hands 🥵😭

warnings. smut obviously, hair pulling, aftercare, oral (both male and female receiving), face sitting, unprotected sex, ass slapping, saliva swapping, praising, teasing, finger and nipple sucking, pet names (and a little degradation), fluff

MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG 👻

divider credits. @cafekitsune

he will literally do whatever you say, he is just pussy whipped and a lil’ obedient when it comes to you. all he wants is for you to praise him and make him feel better, and loved. being the submissive one in the relationship makes him feel so taken care of, and it’s something he’s never had before, and he is so appreciative that you’re willing to be his care and pleasure giver

pulling his hair always has him whining desperately, especially if you’re sat on his cock or stroking it when doing so. it just sparks some kind of feral control over him, and he’ll gasp and groan and beg for more, and it’s an easy way to grasp his attention if he’s distracted by his own thoughts or current ongoings

you’d tease his swollen cock, making the archer buckle beneath you as you hovered above him, as you’d line up his cock with your pussy. to make him even more desperate and more of a whimpering mess, you’d slip just the head in your entrance, pulling it out and sliding it through your folds, repeating the action. he’d be babbling for more, hardly being able to make out words as he’s near tears

he will eat you out for hours, until his jaw is aching and cramping, it is his favourite meal, no matter what mood he’s in. whether he’s feeling submissive or just lost, he sees it as his home. he buries his face in between your legs, desperate to please you, and he’d look up to make sure that he’s doing a good job and pleasing you

when you grab his hips, he feels so small (even if there is a size difference), he’d love it. it makes him feel safe and looked after, and he knows he can rely on you, to not only subside his hunger to feel pleasure, but in general. and he is addictive to seeing whether or not he has bruises on his hips, he loves to press his fingers down on them and feel the ache above his hipbone and remember all of the things that had lead to that. you also pin him down by his hips if he acts up whilst you’re having sex or being gracious enough to give him a blow job; it’s a reminder that you’re in control, and he loves that, especially considering how often he has to take charge out on runs with some of the idiots that have joined your community

it’s dirty, he knows it, but he loves it when you brush your fingers or one of your thumbs against his lips, sliding them in past them and ordering him to suck them. sometimes you’ll push them in farther, forcing him to gag on your fingers and he loves how breathless it makes him, and he can physically feel the tears prick at his eyes

if he’s a good boy, which he tries his best to be, you’ll comb your fingers through he’s hair, whether at the time he’s giving you oral or is laying on your chest after an exhausting session together. he loves to use your tits as a pillow, no big or small they are, and if he’s dazed or just feeling needy, he’ll begin suckling on your nipples, not only because he wants to but he knows that you’ll play with his locks

there are a fair few positions the two of you have tried, but you always end up going back to the same two that make you feel closer. cowgirl is the most often, where he can see your tits bouncing in his face and he can bury it in them, sucking on your tits and drooling from the pleasure, muffling his moans in your womanly globes. reverse cowgirl makes him feel so light headed, where he can see you using his fat cock, and you dig your fingernails into his legs causing him to whimper. if you’re in the missionary position, he’ll chortle in bliss, pounding in you as fast or slow as you want him to

kind of a repeat, but he loves loves loves to be praised, it makes his chest feel full of pride, and his stomach swarm with butterflies. phrases like ‘good boy’ make him feel appreciated and encourages him to keep up his good work. ‘dirty redneck’ is a term you save for when he’s practically salivating and unable to keep his hands from touching you. it makes him even harder than before, and it turns him on when you slap his hands away

bruising kisses that take his breath away are a must, he tries to kiss you more when his eyes closed, and although he should have realised that you’d have pulled away as you often do, he opens his eyes with annoyance, it’s as though sometimes you encourage his brat attitude . and so you bite his lip, nipping at it as though you’re threatening to draw blood

you cherish him all, and if he’s feeling particularly insecure, you’ll show adoration for his entire body, including his scars. you’ll lay him down on the bed, his cock pressing achingly hard into the sheets as you flutter kisses across the permanent lines in his back. whether they’re old or new scars, you’ll show love to them all the same, telling him how beautiful he is and how you are so lucky to ‘have a good boy like him’

it’s a reward, and he knows it. although he can’t help himself from acting like a starved man if you sit on his face, he’ll devour your pussy, wanting to taste you for as long as you allow him to, eyes flittering between your perfectly rested mound and your face, which is either unfocused and thrown back in pleasure as you use him, or glaring with integrity down at him, which would make his cock twitch with anticipation

if he’s feeling a little risky he will begin grabbing your hair, although he knows that he has been taught better by you. he’d earn a slap on the hand, or you’d curl your fingers tightly around his wrist with a vice grip, and he would freeze. and so in response you’d tease his cock and grasp the base of it tightly, causing his breaths to become stuttered

at times when he’s cock is filling you up amidst your instructions, your reach down and fondle his balls, playing with them to cause him to thrust in surprise inside of you. again, it was just another reason for you to scold him, and you’d grasp his ass cheek, slapping it, and although he tells you he despises it his lies slip through as he moans in pleasure

he was is thirsty submissive, and he’ll open his mouth before you’ve even asked him to, awaiting for you to spit in his mouth. and you would, and he’d hold your saliva inside of his mouth until you commanded him to swallow. he’d be on his knees with an open mouth, just patiently waiting because he knows you can’t say no to that particular desire of his

when you’re feeling horny, you’ll take him as you please. you’ll shove him against walls, on the bed, or any surface that will do. you’ll pin him wherever, just so you can feel in control of something. he knows to oblige without refusal then, even if it makes things difficult, such as when you caress his jean clad cock whilst you’re seated behind him on his bike, and he has to pour all of his focus into not veering

caressing his cheek after he’s cum is almost like a ritual, his cheeks are flushed from the heated blood that has become pigmented on his face, as he huffs to catch his breath. he’ll go all dosey, as he leans into your touch, although he always holds off from cumming until you tell him to

he’s a moaner, shattered versions of your name will escape his lips. hell even mumble it when you’re in the shower, the spray of water falling on you both, even if you aren’t having sex in there. you’ll douse him in body wash if you were lucky enough to find some on a run, rubbing his chest and back and removing the sweat that has smothered his body. and you’ll gently clean his cock, causing him to heave out high pitched whimpers from the overstimulation but he loves it