#shared hibernation together

[arolesbianism]

Anyways incorporating new saint hcs into my semi au Sliver lore means that now saint gets to continuously experience ascending Sliver forever 👍

[isitthemoon]

..... this apartament is a mess.

[canisalbus]

Please please share some info on your Claydol/Umbreon sona 👀 👀

Well they're not a very lore heavy character ´v` Just a fun design I got attached to more than I intended I guess.

It's genderless, sexless and doesn't seem to age (it/they pronouns)

It's sentient but in a hard to decipher way. It prefers solitude and sparsely communicates with other beings.

It's seven eyes can move independently from each other.

The head can rotate and spin freely, and while it's not attached to the body, it usually maintains it's position, hovering at the end of the nonexistent neck.

The ears and tail are fully rigid. The tail can be bent from the base but the ears are always static (I think of them as baseball bat-like).

The mouth is a dead end and disappears completely when closed, but it can open very wide and is full of teeth (canines in particular are very sharp, curved and prominent).

The skin is firm, smooth, hairless and matte, similar to unglazed ceramic, and it matches the ambient temperature of the surroundings.

It's mostly odorless but has a faint aroma of dirt and myrrh.

It's resistant to heat and cold but can't stand water. It gets slow, lethargic and confused and starts to suffer tissue damage if it gets wet enough.

It's about the size of a caracal.

It doesn't breathe.

It doesn't seem to need to eat, and it doesn't have a working digestive tract. The internal organs it has are only vaguely reminescent of organic viscera and don't have a clear purpose, they're all uniformly orange and have the consistency of hard boiled egg yolk.

It sleeps a lot, or maybe hibernates, often in oddly upright and stiff positions.

It's generally a quiet and fairly inactive creature, but when it moves it can be surprisingly swift and nimble, the locomotion is mostly a mix of cat, dog and hare movements.

Sometimes it makes various hollow hissing and rattling noises when it moves, or sounds similar to two pieces of pottery or stone being ground together.

It's most common active vocalization is barking and it sounds like the clack of hyoshigi:

It's not aggressive, but can inflict feelings of anxiety, disorientation and mild catatonia on onlookers when threatened, and being on the receiving end of it's psychic attacks sounds like a bullroarer:

[lottiies]

SHARED MY BODY AND MY MIND WITH YOU

→ Leon broke up with you because of his emotional baggage, not wanting to drag you down into his trauma-induced misery. He didn’t usually date out of his line of work anyway, he hated himself for involving himself with someone so innocent. But when he gets a voicemail at an awfully late hour and listens to it, he nearly broke driving laws to get to your place. He still loves you, that much is certain. Your body and mind are like a second nature to him

CW: MDNI, fem!reader, pwp, one sided breakup, angst, description of leon’s self guilt and sabotage, heavy mentions of marriage, centered around Leon rather than the reader, reconciliation, lovemaking–gentle sex, crying, very small religious snippet, he eats you out, unprotected p in v, implied aftercare + implication of a better future

WC: 5.3k

Note: i think…this is my favorite fic that i’ve ever written. breaking my pink blog theme with this and actually capitalizing letters um…i had to set the tone okay. i actually started working on this in january to cope with some things, but i didn’t make much progress until recently!! the title’s a lyric from the song ‘cruel world’

BOT VERSION HERE MASTERLIST

Leon has a rule: never get emotionally involved with anyone who isn’t in his line of work. The reason behind that is self-explanatory. It's too difficult to accomplish. All his baggage holds him down, and he’s always away for long periods at a time and then returns back with body aches all over and has to hibernate for a while. What does he truly have to offer?

He did it anyway.

You managed to romance him, granting him a fleeting glimpse of happiness and a chance at self-love. Lingering caresses, meaningful eye contact, soulful conversations, an audience to his jokes, the key to your heart — you gave him everything.

Breaking up with you was painful, the second it was all said and done and you were out of his sight, he broke down crying. That was what he deserved, that’s what his mind told him.

It was easy for Leon to disappear from your life, just as quick as the snap of his fingers. He was never around that much to begin with. Your efforts in reaching out to him were futile if he was halfway across the world dealing with another abrupt assignment, or if he fell back into the habit of nursing a drink in some run down bar without contacting a soul.

But no amount of alcohol could make him forget about you these days. The memories of you were too strong to be diluted.

“What about this one?” Curiosity had dripped from your question, your fingers gently feathered across the healed up scar on his left shoulder.

Leon was almost an open book when it came to you, he truly cherished honesty in any relationship, whether romantic or platonic. Guilt weighed on him for having to limit certain answers to only the surface details. It felt wrong; it felt like he was keeping secrets from you and keeping you in the dark. But it couldn’t be helped, not when you weren’t in the same line of work as him. Most of the contents of his work were confidential.

After all, at this point the two of you had only been dating for half a year. How could he burden your mind with the harsh realities of everything that wasn’t known by the general public?

The two of you were naked, tangled under the sheets. No sex or anything, simply getting familiar with each other’s bodies and exploring with gentle and cautious hands.

“1998, shot on duty.”

The memories were still fresh in his mind. People say that forgetting a traumatic event is common, people dissociate to cope and shield their brain. It was the opposite for Leon. All the screams plagued his mind like a damn mantra, no way in hell would he ever be able to forget anyone’s voice.

Either that, or his mind made up fantasies about what could’ve been between you both. Domestic bliss. Buying a house together. Shy talks about how many kids you guys wanted. The memories haunted him. He wanted it back.

He even bought a ring. A beautiful one that he was meant to display to you when he sunk onto one knee and popped the question that would hopefully bind the two of you for life. The one that he was supposed to fidget with whenever he held your hand as the two of you planned your wedding, whether it be simple, grand, or to elope.

He kept it safe even after he broke up with you, he couldn’t bear to throw it away because of the sliver of hope that maybe one day he’d still get the chance of putting it on your finger. He felt like a fool. Sometimes he opened the box up to reminisce. It tugged at his heartstrings when he saw how rough his own fingers were in comparison to the smooth metal, from his years of physical exhaustion and training. God, he wished your hands would never get all battered like his.

He thought about you so much that you were the star actress in his nightly dreams.

The worst ones were the nightmares, though. Like the one that had him turning in his sleep tonight.

It all replayed in his mind. Your facial expression when he broke up with you out of the blue — the way the smile on your face had faded into a frown, your glimmering eyes contorting into that of disheartened ones. The way you looked at him with such a concoction of emotions. The pitiful chuckle that escaped your lips along with a nervously spoken ‘what?’ Or maybe it was the prolonged silence afterwards that killed him. It felt like hours until he got a proper response from you, one that was drowned out by the drumming of his own heart and the pulse that formed in his ears.

Usually he got to the end of it, but tonight he was abruptly woken up by the sound of his phone ringing. A blessing in disguise, maybe. Regardless, he was a bit irritated, he had always been such a light sleeper.

“You’re kidding…” Leon let out a heavy sigh, trying to rub the sleep away from his eyes. He didn’t even want to answer, too tired to even think about the possibility of being called to the field. No way in hell did he want to be met with Hunnigan’s voice and some intel he didn’t feel like remembering.

He let the phone ring, and eventually, blissful silence filled the room again. If it was dire, he knew he’d get another call soon.

Instead, he heard his phone vibrate not long after. He muttered out a curse before reaching for his phone, seeing that a voicemail was left. He didn’t bother reading whose number it was. Christ, the message was 5:06 minutes long.

Whatever. He played it aloud, resting his forearm over his face as he listened in.

“Hey Leon, it’s me…”

Fuck.

He fully sat up on his bed, so quickly it could’ve given him whiplash.

“I miss you. Still think about you every day. I don’t know what I did wrong…you probably aren’t even listening to this. I just…I don’t know.” a sigh. “The clock hit 12 and um, well today’s the anniversary of the day you asked me out. Maybe you don’t remember. I think you do though, you were always good with dates.”

Leon knew the voice of a broken person when he heard it.

No. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to let you go and then you’d see how much life had to offer, how any other person could give you a better and more stable relationship.

How could you be hung up on a man like him?

It was instinctual. He shuffled out of bed, body reacting before his mind and reaching for a clean pair of clothes from his closet. He left the voicemail playing in the background, it filled his lonely house. His heart was racing so loudly he couldn’t even hear the sounds of the wind outside or the creak of the floor with every step. All he did was change and brush his teeth before he drove over to you.

Thankfully, the roads were empty and the highway was free of traffic or else surely he would’ve been pulled over.

Thinking rationally wasn’t necessary when it came to you, not when he just got punched in the gut with a load of nostalgia and gut wrenching heartbreak.

He has always been yours, even during the separation. His heart hammered within his ribcage when he pulled into your driveway, his body moving in a hurry out of his car and towards your door. No hesitation.

Knock, knock, knock.

Ten seconds felt like ten minutes, but eventually the door swung open.

Your pretty face filled the focus of his pupils, his expression softening. You looked like a deer in the headlights, gazing up at him with wide eyes.

Oh, my sweet girl. There she is.

His hands itched to reach for you, to hold you in his arms and spin you around, nuzzling his nose against yours like old times — like some romantic drama. He hadn’t watched one in a while, they reminded him too much of you. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

Leon's hair was messy. It was a sight you had seen many times: his bed hair. Those emotion carrying eyes of his were contrasted with the lifeless bags under them. He came over so damn quickly he hadn’t even taken the time to make himself look composed.

“Leon? What are you…” You couldn’t even finish your thoughts. You felt nothing yet so much at the same time, perhaps from the shock of it all. You brought two fingers to the pulse on your neck to make sure you were awake, and hadn’t somehow fallen asleep after your call and voicemail to him. The thundering pace of your pulse confirmed that you weren’t off in dream land.

“I got your voicemail,” He responded, sounding remorseful. “Had to make sure you were alright. Uh…can I come in?”

You continued staring at him like if he was some sort of supernatural being. If you reached your hand out to touch him, would he disappear? Or perhaps your limb would go straight through him as if he was transparent.

You snapped out of it and nodded. “Yeah, come on in.” Hesitation clouded your tone, not out of wariness but because you had no clue what the hell was going on. You hadn’t seen him in over a year, at least not in person, only through photos and videos you still had saved on your phone from when the two of you were dating (going through them was part of your nightly routine.)

“To be honest…I wasn’t expecting you to even hear my message.”

You stood there awkwardly as he entered, closing the door afterwards. Your apartment still smelled the same, a wave of comfort washed over him despite the circumstances, his eyes darting around at all your belongings. This was once his safe space, like his secret haven.

You sat on your couch, waving him over. Your legs felt like jelly, no way could you be standing for this. He followed, sitting on the couch cushion on the opposite side from you.

“My ringtone woke me up. I thought you were a coworker of mine at first but…I’m glad you weren’t.”

“Glad, really?”

“Yeah.” He gave no further context, at least for that minute.

Silence hung in the air, time became still. Either way, the shared glance between the two of you broke the tension, you were both thinking the same thing. Your minds were linked, seeking reconciliation, every circuit of neurons buzzing with your shared proximity.

He rested his elbows on his knees, running a hand through his hair, a nervous habit. Everything felt surreal, you couldn’t take your eyes off him, afraid he’d disappear.

“I’m…I’m sorry about the way I ended things.” There was a crack in his voice, he was so desperately clinging onto the ideology that he shouldn’t wear all his heart on his sleeve. He failed every time though, his words had wavered.

“I know.” You truly did.

“How?”

“Because I know you, Leon. It hurt, and I found myself wondering why you would just up and leave after what felt like such a meaningful time. But I didn't ever think you did it with mal intent.”

You should be demanding answers, hell, he could even take a few slaps to the face. Maybe his guilt ridden self preferred that to your sweet treatment. Did he even deserve to be met with your understanding? This self-pitying mindset he harbored is what had led to this in the first place.

“You’re right. I didn’t mean to hurt you, that’s the last thing I wanted to do.” Were his efforts in explaining himself getting across? “I thought it was better this way. I'm…broken.”

Trying to convince him that he isn’t ‘broken’ was futile, all you could do was beautify it instead. You scooted closer to him, clasping one of his hands between yours. “All you see are your faults, but I was seeing you entirely, not just for what you do in your job or the images that keep you up at night.”

His hands felt the same. Calloused in areas he couldn’t help like his knuckles and his palms, but well-kept in the nail department. He looked down at the physical contact, putting his other hand atop yours, his thumb grazing tenderly at your skin. Familiar territory.

“It’s hard not to.” He admitted, his eyes feeling glossy all of a sudden. “My job is my life, it drags into every other part of my life.”

“How did it drag into our relationship?”

He truly didn’t know how to answer that. The times he shared with you were the best experiences of his life. He finally got the chance to pull out his cardboard box full of romantic movies to watch with the lover he had been waiting for his whole life, you. Countless nights spent cooking together in your kitchen, full of laughter and playful bickering, and some harmless food fights. Grocery shopping together with laced fingers, just a sneak peek into domesticity. God, he yearned for its return.

“I don’t know. I constantly had to leave and got no vacation time either. Let’s see…I had to keep a lot of information confidential. It kinda screams ‘this’ll all make a girl run the other way.’”

How wrong he was, he ended up leaving before he could get abandoned, as if that would’ve happened, though, you never wanted him out of your life.

“That wasn’t true for me, Leon. I wanted to be with you. I just hope I wasn’t a burden on you.”

That hurt. A dull ache spread across his chest. He pulled you close, tucking you against his side.

“Don’t say that,” His instruction was soft spoken, his lips brushed against your cheek. You were never a burden, he always shut you out, thinking that his heart was full of thorns and you’d prick yourself if he let you get too close. That, perhaps his sorrow was contagious and his poison would flood your veins.

Words of comfort weren’t his strong suit, but he tried his best. He had to. “You weren’t a burden. Never were, and never will be, okay?”

It felt so good to have you against him, his gaze was set on you, searching for any indicator that you were uncomfortable. You leaned your shoulder against his shoulder though, nuzzling against him. Pensive silence followed.

Even with the somber undertones filling your apartment, your heart was bursting. He was here, back with you. Holding you like he used to do after you had a particularly stressful day at work, or when you had an argument with one of your close ones.

The long separation made familiar carnal desires spark to life, along with the itch to bring them to fruition.

“I’m glad you’re here.” You murmured to him, but your wavering voice caught his instant attention.

You were on the verge of tears, oh dear. If you started sobbing, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to hold back from crying either.

Leon didn’t waste a second, pulling you onto his lap, one of his hands stroking the back of your head, his other arm wrapping around your back.

“What are you thinking about?” He needed to know. You had always been the most verbal, whereas his feelings usually showed on his face or body language.

“About how much I missed you.” You respond, running your hands up and down his arms, squeezing at his muscles. “And how unreal this feels. And…” Your eyes flicker down to his lips. “I wanna kiss you, Leon…and y’know.” Make love. “Like old times.”

Oh.

“Are you sure?” Leon hadn’t intended for the night to play out this way. He needed to make sure you were actually thinking straight with the pool of emotions you seemed to be drowning in. To be fair, he was drowning too.

It was midnight, your bodies burned for one another.

“I am.” You uttered those words with such finality, eyes set on him.

This wasn’t some impromptu longing for his physical connection, you had been craving it for as long as the two of you had been separated. To feel him in the purest and most tender way possible, nestled against one another and eliciting feelings no one else could.

The pads of his thumbs rub circles against the fat of your hips. He's looking up at you, his eyes are unable to hide a flicker of yearning and affection. Expressive, his pupils dilated and his eyebrows slightly raised. He blinked slowly, like a cat showing utmost trust to its owner.

He looks at you like he worships you (he does.) Get him on his hands and knees, he’ll mumble your name like you’re his god and he’s praying to you, all his sins out in the open and his scarred body for you to look over and judge. He’ll be vulnerable with you if that means you’ll forgive his wrongdoings and give him a second chance. You must be a merciful god, no doubt about it.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You murmured, cupping his face. His gaze was hypnotic, sending a wave of security down your body. It almost felt as if you traveled to the time before he shattered your heart into pieces of glass.

“Like what?” He couldn’t help it. Not like he had a mirror, anyway. His face was usually tense, brows permanently furrowed and eyes narrowed from being attentive all the fucking time, his lips a straight line, jaw anything but relaxed.

Not right now, though. Never with you. Everything in his body softened and loosened up around you. Well, with the exception of his dick but that was another matter.

“You know what I mean. Like…like you still love me.”

Leon didn’t know what to say. The words died in his throat while every fiber of his being wanted to say ‘I do.’ The same words he could’ve voiced out standing across the altar from you. His brain short-circuited.

His pause came across as ambiguous to you, to mask the pain, you kissed him. Like a chocolate on a hot summer day, he melted in an instant, turning to mush, holding one side of your jaw and matching your pace.

The two of you mingled like two puzzle pieces. Your chest was flush against his, one of your hands finding his hair and pulling on it, earning a drawn out groan from him. It went slow for the first five minutes, some occasional pull backs for breath, shy smiles in betweens, before going back in like the act of kissing was needed for your pulses to continue, your hearts beating as one.

“Mmph.” Your whimper made him shudder, oh how he had missed that noise. His other hand got a bit more confident, resting on the small of your back, moving up towards your ribs then back down, almost resting on your ass.

He felt a surge of heat settle in his groin, aching to give you all the pleasure you deserved, to make you feel cherished and known. To knock any misery out of your head and replace it with euphoric sparks and reassurance. To be one with you again, if you’d have him.

He pulled away from the kiss, his eyes fluttering open. “Bedroom?”

A nod from you was all it took. He didn’t let you get up, instead holding your ass as he stood up, his lips back on yours as he carried you to your bedroom like he owned the place. His mind still had the spatial layout, it worked out and he eventually placed you onto the middle of the bed oh so delicately.

You knew what was coming, already taking your clothes off in a haste as you heard his belt come undone, the sound of his taking his shirt off, and his boots being kicked off.

It wasn’t long until he was on you again.

Leon took his time to look at your body. He was all too familiar with it, knowing exactly where certain beauty marks were, or the places that were sensitive to even the slightest fan of his breath. His fingertips ghosted over your sides, sucking in a sharp inhale as his eyes roamed all over, studying you as if you were his muse and he was about to draw you. “So beautiful…”

His lips had traveled all across you once upon a time. Leon had a great memory, perhaps one of his best features, though also his downfall. At times like these, it comes in handy. It almost seemed like a hazy flashback to the nights he had you splayed on the bed, pressing his lips against your forehead and making it all the way to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

He wanted to mimic the memory. “Need to taste you. Can I?”

“God, yes.” You agreed in a heartbeat, body already feeling all tingly at the anticipation.

He littered open mouthed kisses from the middle of your chest, all the way down to your end of your stomach, making your body ignite with flames and mind flood with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. What day was it? Month? Year? You couldn’t remember, just desperately hoping this wasn’t some realistic feeling dream. You’ve had those too often, and if you woke up without him by your side, you felt like you would die from heartbreak.

He hooked his arms underneath your thighs to pull you close. His fingers dug into your thighs as he took another look at his favorite pretty cunt. He missed this. Missed you. Missed having you grind yourself against his face until he couldn’t breathe. Missed having his heart race from the angelic noises you blessed his ears with.

His nose pressed against your clit, applying light pressure as his tongue lapped at your slit, gathering the dew there. Geez, he really got right into it. Your eyes rolled back, your stomach tensing and your back arching. You could die right now by your (ex) lover’s tongue, what a way to go.

On the occasion that he opened his eyes, he’d look up at you through his light lashes — he swore you looked like an angel from his perspective.

“What is this? Your last meal on death row?” You were joking, but god…he really was making your mind go blank, he knew just all the right buttons to press.

“Oh, so you think I’m a criminal?”

Like always, you reached for his hair, pushing it back and hearing him growl out of contentment. He gave your clit gentle sucks before flattening his tongue against it and flicking it, his head moving side to side, repeating the process again and again.

One thing about Leon? He always found a way to turn you on by being vocal. His noises were muffled and sloppy but you could feel the vibration of all his whimpers and growls against you as he took his time eating you out. He was getting off to pleasuring you, and that fact alone made it so much hotter.

Your thighs were trembling, threatening to close in and squeeze his head. Leon placed one of his hands over your lower abdomen, applying light pressure with his palm and coaxing you into your orgasm.

It didn’t take you long to get there, you hadn’t felt a tongue on you in ages, he was your last.

“Leon, I’m—“

He already knew.

“That’s it, make a mess all over my face.” It sounded like a demand but instead it came across as a pitiful and desperate plea.

How many times had he been in this position? Lying on his stomach, your taste on his tongue, chin dripping with his drool and your wetness, feeling your body trembling…he couldn’t even count how many. But it was enough for him to know your body like no other.

He kept going even after your thighs started squeezing in on him, even with the way you unintentionally tugged at his hair enough to have him rutting against your sheets. He made sure to make your orgasm feel good, lapping at you all throughout until he heard a whine leave your lips and he felt you weakly push his head away — he didn’t want to overstimulate you and hurt you.

He finally took a breath, one that filled his lungs with satisfaction as he propped himself up on his elbows before sitting up. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling his blood pump south with the way you were still composing yourself, your legs twitching all cutely and your torso rising and sinking with each deep breath you attempted to take.

“Do you wanna…” Your eyes flitted down to the prominent tent in his pants, feeling a stirring in your stomach already.

“Do you?”

“Yeah. I mean…only if you want to.”

With his belt already in some corner of the room and his fly down, all that was left was discarding his pants and boxers down. He fished his wallet out and pulled a packet from it before doing so.

You were too distracted eyeing his now exposed dick, gulping. It had been a while. But a certain wrapper noise caught your attention. A condom. You had always been careful with him in the past, but you wanted him inside him without any barriers. To feel him entirely, his skin against your insides.

“Don’t, please?”

“But–“

“I need to feel you, Leon.”

“Already being a bad influence on me? What am I gonna do with you?” His jest was met with your roll of eyes, but the corners of your eyes crinkled, happy he was already comfortable enough to bicker a bit.

He pet your head, gazing fondly at you as he awaited your response.

“I just want to feel you as close as possible. I don't know how to explain it. You can pull out at the end…I dunno.”

You didn’t need to explain further, because he felt the same. He kissed your forehead, whispering “okay.”

Getting in between you and in position for missionary, he continued peppering kisses all over your face. He couldn’t hold back, he had so much to make up for, he owed you at least a thousand more. He pushed into you, a breathy moan leaving his lips, it felt like he had just entered the pearly gates. And the way your jaw hung open in a silent gasp told him you felt the same.

“You alright?”

“Mhm, keep going.”

“God, I missed you…” His thrusts made the bed creak, adding to the assortment of sounds of two bodies joined as one: skin against skin, high pitched gasps and occasional throaty groans, nails scratching against Leon’s back and leaving red marks in their wake, a subtle noise, but there nonetheless.

“Yeah? How much?”

“Too much. Could never get you outta my mind.” He admitted, burying his head against your neck to leave open-mouthed kisses all over, smiling when he felt you squirming. “Dreamt about you every night. Every…every morning I woke up, I thought you’d still be by my side.”

His response knocked the breath out of you, God if you could have him closer than physically possible, you would. This was the closest you’d be though, his tip hitting your g-spot, his body flush against yours, it was just the two of you in this never ending universe.

“Leon…Leon…fuck.” You called for him like you needed him to prevent you from crumbling.

He pinned one of your hands to the side of your head and laced his fingers between yours, his head remaining against your other side, raspy grunts and incoherent praises rumbling against your ear. He gently bit your earlobe, tugging at it and sending a shiver down your spine.

Despite all his self doubts, Leon knew how to love, how to send another person to cloud nine and make their head fuzzy with sheer euphoria. He wasn’t fucking you, he was loving you, there’s a clear difference.

His lips trailed to your jawline, eventually reaching your lips and initiating an uncoordinated make out session, the sound of dazed out whimpers and quiet growls mixing together perfectly.

He was getting there, his pace more erratic than before, his hand squeezing yours tightly. “You’re so pretty.” He mumbled against your lips, speaking in between rushed pecks. “Prettiest girl in the world.”

You managed to smile at that. “Yeah? Well you’re the prettiest boy in the world.”

You could’ve said handsome. Or hot. Or cute. But Leon was pretty, that was always the first thing that came to your mind. He was like a model, surely some agency would have tried to recruit him if he were actually in broad daylight more.

“Mm.” He liked the compliment. No more words were exchanged after that, he was focused on feeling you. Feeling the way you took all of him like it was nothing, clearly the two of you were physically made for one another.

There was no going back from this, Leon couldn’t bear the thought of getting a taste of happiness yet again and then falling back into a hopeless pit. He wouldn’t push you away again.

You were already sensitive from the way he had made you cum on his face earlier. You pulled away from his kisses, your head thrashing side to side against the pillow instead, your hips desperately bucking to meet his.

“Leon…”

“Just let go for me, you can do it.”

Moans ripped from your throat, your nails leaving crescent indents on his skin as your body writhed underneath him. Leon couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you came, his own stomach feeling tighter and tighter until he followed suit.

“I love you.” He let it slip at the very end, his mind too dazed and his emotions for you running at full blast. You would’ve replied if not for the way you were in awe, watching the way his eyebrows furrowed, his head tilted back, his mouth let out the raspiest grunts as he pulled out and came. Fuck, he couldn’t be real.

It was only then that Leon’s head cleared. He felt his heart sink to his stomach, had he said something wrong? The moment died down, he felt uncertain about how you’d react. Regardless, Leon took a moment to admire you in your flushed state before leaning down to kiss your head, then lying down beside you and pulling you to his side.

You were all dazed with his confession lingering in your head.

He still loved you. Maybe it was obvious, but hearing it aloud was a completely different feeling.

All the suppressed emotions between the two of you were being put on the spotlight. Your eyes brimmed with unshed tears, you tried to blink them away, but you failed.

Leon wished your eyes hadn’t gotten glossy and that your lips hadn’t tugged into a small frown. It made his heart physically ache. Heavy hearted, that’s what he felt like, swallowing to try to alleviate just how sore his throat felt all of a sudden. Guilt bubbled in his stomach because he knew he was the source of your tears.

He kissed away your tears, welcoming the salty taste of them.

He couldn’t tell you not to cry, he wasn’t in the position to. All he could do was reassure you instead, curling his hand into a fist before rubbing soothing circles onto your back as he watched you curl against him.

“Hey…”

“Sorry. I didn't mean to start crying. I just…you still love me? Did you mean that?”

“It’s okay. Just let it out, I'm here for you.” He had your head tucked underneath his chin. “And yeah…I never stopped.”

“I love you too.”

He wasn’t leaving this time.

Maybe that ring he held onto would find its true owner soon.

You, his sweet girl.

[uhhidkkenny]

𝐓𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝

𝕁𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕃𝕦𝕗𝕗𝕪 𝕩 𝔽𝕖𝕞 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

☀︎︎𝚜𝚢���𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: 𝙻𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢/𝚗, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟸 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚎𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗?

☀︎︎𝙲𝚆: 𝟷𝟾+ 𝚂𝙼𝚄𝚃. 𝙹𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝙻𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚢. 𝚂𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙳𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚊𝚕. 𝙿 𝚒𝚗 𝚅. 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙾𝚛𝚊𝚕 (𝙵 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐) 𝙲𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚙𝚒𝚎. ☀︎︎𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟹.𝟸𝚔

Ever since y/n joined the straw hats over 2 years ago, Luffy was attached to her hip. Luffy was always intrigued with y/n. The pair were always with one another, sharing secrets, getting a little too close, but they were just friends. Luffy was never sure why he was so infatuated with y/n. Maybe it was the fact that she smelled like sunflowers and vanilla, maybe it was her pretty plump lips, was it her curvy figure, or was it cause she was funny, caring, and sweet? He didn’t get it but y/n was always on his mind. He needed to focus on achieving his goal of becoming king of the pirates, he didn’t need to have most of his head filled with thought of y/n, but no matter how hard he tried his thoughts always circled back to her. He didn’t know why.

He was also very unsure why he felt like he could murder Zoro right now with his own swords, or the fact that he wanted to cut Sanji hands off with the kitchen knives he uses to cook his meals daily. The way Zoro wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer during the late night party the crew was having after leaving fishman island. Or the way Sanji has constantly been trying to get her attention. Granted that seems like basic Sanji behavior, something is just different after being separated for 2 years.

Luffys friendship with y/n wasn’t exactly classified as a friendship. Not with all the lingering touches, kisses on the cheeks, holding hands, even sneaking into each others beds at night just for cuddles. People didn’t just do these things with friends, they both knew that, but according to Luffy anytime he was asked, that’s all you were to him. A friend.

Luffy began to get frustrated with everyone asking what the relationship was between the pair. Luffy being asked the same question so many times made him feel like a bear being poked during hibernation. He wasn’t ready to accept any feelings he had for y/n himself, let alone admit it to the crew. Finally, Luffy snapped after Ussop asked for the last time what he thought about y/n. He looked down at the ground and said in a stern and serious tone, “She’s just another crew mate. You guys are annoying.” and walked away.

Y/n heard it. She never thought that words could hurt but it felt like her heart was ripped out and stomped on. She didn’t have the right to be upset though, they weren’t together, Y/n had said plenty times before that they were only friends. She didn’t know why her heart felt this way or why her face suddenly felt wet as she turned around to walk the other way. Maybe Luffy was having a bad day. Maybe y/n was overreacting, but the way her fists clenched until they turned white said everything she couldn’t say herself.

After a few days had passed since y/n heard how Luffy truly felt, and she began to distance herself from Luffy. She found things to do that weren’t next to or around him. She made sure she sat in at the opposite end of the dining table. She stopped sneaking into his bed and began locking her door at night. Was it petty? Yes. But she wasn’t ready to face him yet.

The day y/n was gonna confront Luffy on what he had said was the day that the crew first made it to Sabaody. There were immediately more important things to worry about. Ultimately the start of the adventure to the new world resulted in the separation of all the straw hats. Luffy could still remember the look in y/n’s eyes before she was sent to another island.

2 years passed at this point. The whole crew had changed with their looks, but nothing changed in anyone’s love and care for each other. Life basically just resumed for everyone. Aside from Luffy and y/n. Luffy and y/n were still lively but we’re doing some things together again. Laughing, doing stupid shit, and helping one another, but there was still unspoken tension from before they were separated. Luffy and y/n both looked more mature now but neither of them had the courage to talk about what was happening 2 years ago. The whole crew was so busy once finally getting on the sunny and making it to fishman island that there was no time for either of the two to speak their mind.

The crew had made it to Fishman island successfully and defeated Hody and his minions. On the voyage back up to the surface of the new world the crew decided to catch up, tell their stories, and drink in celebration of their victory. The night was lively and everyone was enjoying themselves, except Luffy. Sanji was overjoyed making y/n her drinks, giving her compliments, and basically just drooling over y/n and it was quite frankly, pissing Luffy off.

Y/n had a drink or two or three herself and felt pretty talkative. She made her rounds making an effort to talk to everyone about their own adventure and Luffy was happily waiting for y/n to notice him. Luffy had time to talk with everyone already but her. When she made it to Zoro, who had way too many drinks, the conversation was just too much for Luffys liking. Zoro was laughing too hard at her jokes, y/n was blushing too hard at some of his remarks, but the worst part was the “subtle” touches. Luffy watched as her hand found a spot on Zoros shoulder and Zoros arm snaked around her waist. Luffy was heated.

Luffy was reminded of all the times that those laughs and touches were for him. The times when story telling turned into cuddling, or the times the subtle touches turned into gentle kisses on the blush of cheeks or the tip of a nose. He was gonna go insane just thinking of y/n with anyone, let alone his best friend.. Luffy didn’t have the right to be mad though. You were just his friend, but Luffy thought you were acting like this on purpose, just to get under his skin. After slamming down his mug on the table, he stormed into the kitchen. Luffy didn’t even notice he caught the crews attention, not even y/n’s.

Luffy had been acting out of character ever since leaving Fishman island. The crew just assumed it was due to how much blood he lost from the fight and he was still trying to recoup from it. Y/n however, knew it had to be more than that. Without a second thought she removed Zoros arm and began to follow Luffy. She didn’t even look at Zoro much less give him an explanation, too focused on Luffy and making sure he was ok. Y/n was scared something had happened to Luffy, maybe he was still hurting, maybe someone upset him, but what about when he upset her? Mind filling up with tipsy thoughts, y/n’s anger from 2 years ago returned. Finally reaching the kitchen door she swung it open to look for Luffy.

Luffy was sitting at the bar in the kitchen, he looked up momentarily to meet y/n’s eyes before getting up and walking away without saying a word. Y/n couldn’t help but laugh. How stupid could he continue to make her feel? Why did she even come in this kitchen? Was it to comfort him or confront him? He wasn’t even trying to see what you wanted. Ever. Everything was always about Luffy. Y/n wasn’t about to let him just walk away. Not this time. Fuck that, he needed to know everything. And her liquor filled brain was going to make sure of it.

Y/n quickly followed Luffy. “Where ya headed captain? You didn’t miss your crew?…Aww big man can’t even talk to his crew mate?” Y/n continued on but Luffy was ignoring her. “Does your boo-boo hurt that much?… I just find it crazy that you can talk to everyone but me. Why is that cap?… Why is it just me you can’t talk to? You embarrassed of me Lu?” Luffy was walking away gritting his teeth and y/n was only getting angrier. “I’m sorry am I annoying you captain? I guess someone who’s just a crew mate should realize their place right?” Luffy had finally made it to his room without a word and opened his door. “Ya know maybe this was all a mistake. I should’ve just stayed on the deck with Zo-“ Y/n was immediately cut off by Luffy grabbing her arm, pulling her into his room, and slamming the door with her back pressed against it. She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by her captain finally speaking.

“You talk a lot. Ya know that?” Luffy said pinning her against his door. His hands wrapped around her wrists to keep her in place while his knee made it between her separated legs. “I had peace and quiet for 2 whole years while we were separated..” Y/n felt herself heat up from embarrassment. She began to pull away before her tears could fall from her eyes. Luffy began to lean into her ear while still holding her in place “and I fuckin hated it…” her eyes widened as she released a tiny gasp while his body was pressed against hers in a sudden movement. “God I missed you so much y/n and you’ve been too busy with Zoro all night to even see me.” He began to muzzle his face if the crook of her neck. “Luffy I-“ y/n began but was cut off. “You’ve done enough talking don’t you think? Prancing around on the deck in those tight shorts, flirting with everyone like a slut, and you couldn’t even wave at your captain.” Slowly bringing his knee higher up to her clothed mound between her thighs. Y/n feels instantly sober at the touch. “You have no clue how long it took me to think about what I would say to you when I finally saw you again…” his lips began to leave light feathery kisses along y/n’s jaw, as his grip tightened “but I guess I can just show you what I feel.”

With those words Luffy pulled his face back and leaned his lips closer to y/n’s. Moving her head forward she closed the distance. It was sweet and slow. Lips slowly moving with one another finding a steady pace. His hands released their grip on her wrist and slowly slid to her waist, placing both hands on her hips. As y/n began to lean in farther, the kiss heats up. Tongues sliding along each other. Biting at each others lips. The kiss is becoming feverish as the pair are practically sucking faces at this point. Hands roaming each others bodies as y/n bends her knees slightly to rest her clothed pussy fully on Luffys knee. A shaky breath leaves her lips at the friction. Slowly grinding her hips down onto his knee as the kiss continues. Her arms are wrapped around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer as her breathing falters. Luffy pulls back, pressing his forehead to hers. “You gonna ride my leg to show me how much you missed me? Hehehe…Come on you can do better than that.” Luffys hands begin to guide her hips along his leg. “T-too many clothes” is all she could manage to say. Y/n couldn’t cum like this even though it felt nice, but Luffy was never a quitter.

“You’re right..” he said with a smirk. Luffy reached for the hem of y/n’s shirt, pulling it over her head and then doing the same with his. “That’s better.” He said with a chuckle. His hands came up to play with her hardened nipples. Gently coming to rub at them while she continued to dry hump his leg. Y/n leaned in for a kiss but Luffy pulled his face away. She whined in resilience. “Cum for me and I’ll give you what you want. Come on you missed your captain right?” He leaned in to lick and suck at her nipples. Y/n continued to drag herself on her captains leg and truthfully on the stimulation was getting her close. Her hands tugging at his hair while letting out breathy gasps and whines. Y/n could feel the heat building up in her stomach. Her movements began to stutter and Luffy took this as a sign. “Nobody can make you feel this good but me.” Moving his arms to wrap around her waist and lifting his knee higher, he began to suck on one nipple while tugging the other. Switching back and forth, Luffy began bounce her on his knee.

Eventually it all be came too much for y/n. The friction of Luffys knee, the bouncing, his hands on her, his mouth sucking at her nipples. The tight heat in her belly finally overflowed as she felt herself shaking on his knee. “Good job. I knew you could do it pretty girl.” He said picking her up and walking over to the bed gently laying her down. Luffy began removing the reminder of clothing y/n was wearing, leaving her bare in front of her captain. Blushing she moved her hand to slightly cover herself before Luffy moved her arms away. “Don’t get all shy on me now. I just wanna show you how much I missed you…” he’s on top of her spreading her legs again with hands folding her in half while moving his face closer to her wet pussy “this is what you wanted right? Some attention?”

He licks a fat stripe up y/ns pussy and she can no longer keep her voice down. Her whines and moans escaping without a second thought as Luffy continues to lap at her cunt. Flicking his tongue fast on her clit while taking two of his fingers and jamming them into her sipping wet hole. Y/n’s back arched off the bed as she gripped the sheets. “T-too much Luffy.” She said breathlessly. He ignored her keeping her folded in half with one hand on the back of her thigh, he sucked on her clit while his fingers pumped in and out. His fingers found a spongey spot inside her cunt and the cord in y/n’s belly snapped again as she spasmed on Luffys face.

He slurped up every single drop of her slick that leaked out until she was clean. Luffy slowed his pace a little bit but didn’t stop. Continually pumping his fingers in. Still lightly suckling at her clit. Y/n was breathless and twitching. The overstimulation was killing her but it felt too good to even stop him. Her hands slowly in gripping the sheets as she tried to move her hands to Luffys head that was still between her thighs. Once her hands made contact with his head he pulled away.

His face was covered in her wetness. His eyes were lidded and cock was begging to be released from his shorts. He looked just as pathetic as you. Luffy wanted her just as bad as she wanted him. Leaning up on her elbows Luffy met y/n halfway with his bare chest pressed against hers as their lips collided in a slow but needy kiss. Both parties releasing moans and groans from just how much they missed each other. They needed each other. Was this an extreme way of showing it? Yes but actions speak louder than words. “Captain?” Y/n finally pulled away to question the man she’s been after for 2 years. “Yea baby?” He responded breathlessly. “Please fuck me” she begged.

Tugging his shorts off, he laid on his back next to her. Her eyes wouldn’t leave his cock. It was so pretty. It was long with a dark pinkish brownish tip that was glistening with precum. “Why don’t you get on here and apologize instead?” he said with the biggest smirk, already pulling y/n up and hovering her pussy over his cock. Hands on her hips as he glides her soaking pussy over his aching cock. “F-fuck y/n, go ahead and say you’re sorry so I can fuck you how you want.” The pleasure was intense but y/n didn’t forget that Luffy started this. Grinding her hips down to meet his as his tip kisses her clit perfectly each time they meet one another’s movements. “I think you should apologize C-captain, fuck. You’re the one who said I’m only a crew mate to you.” They were both stupid and moaning in desperation but they were equal in stubbornness. “You know and I know that’s a lie y/n. I’m sorry I ain’t say it sooner ~fuck~ but you never told me you felt some type of way.” Luffy isn’t making this any easier for himself, he would cum right now if he didn’t wanna fuck y/n so bad. The lewd wet noises were getting to them both. “That’s all I needed to hear Lu~ I’m sorry for ignoring you earlier, I just wanted to-“ that’s all Luffy needed to hear before lifting y/n’s hips off of his to bring her back down, impaling her with his cock.

Both letting out a whine. The stretch was so good y/n couldn’t help but start to bounce immediately. “Fuck captain I’m so sorry” y/n was moaning like a whore. Having already cum three times, her g spot getting hit every time her hips met Luffys, and the pure emotion behind it all she was already close. Luffys feet found a firm spot on the mattress to lip his hips to y/n’s continuously. “I’m sorry too baby. Mmm please forgive me.” Luffy was thrusting up into y/n at an ungodly pace. His tip was hitting her g spot perfectly. “Gonna cum Lu~” she said breathlessly as she began to clench around his cock. Luffy let out the sluttiest moan, which half the crew could probably hear, as they both came with each other. Immediately y/n slumped forward with Luffy still inside, laying her head on his chest. Luffy wrapped his arms around her torso and placed a kiss on her forehead. “I love you Lu” y/n admitted softly closing her eyes. “I love you too y/n” Luffy said before drifting off.

The crew was very much still awake and awaiting the return of the pair. “Should we go check on them?” Chopper worried since the two had been gone for so long. After hearing the loud moan escape from Luffy, the rest of the crew decided to pretend that y/n pranked Luffy and they must have went to bed. Even though the tears from the chef and the scoff from the swordsman didn’t go unnoticed, the tension was finally at ease.

A/N: 2nd fic I’ve done!! I did this one a little differently so please let me know how you guys feel🖤 GO READ MY NEWEST FIC! Out now “angel in black”

𝑻𝒂𝒈 𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @soobunni @astahsvea @asheyy

@kingofthe-egirls @fanficwriter5 @scarwicht

[withleeknow]

seasons of you.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff or at least i hope so lmao, not v edited and literally no one is surprised lol i sound like a broken record atp just adding that into every post word count: 0.7k note: inspired by a highly fucked up thing that @matchannie said to me yesterday lmao it has not left my brain since you said it you absolute monster

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

minho falls in love with you four times a year.

minho falls in love with you in the spring, over blooming cherry blossoms and vibrant daffodils that greet you on your weekly sunset walk. over the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his own without soft fluffy gloves getting in the way, now that it's finally warm enough to retire that extra layer of protection for the season. over the sun coming out of hibernation and filling your days with golden light, falling upon your face and casting you in a magical hue. over the remnants of winter that still leave behind a palpable chill in the air early in the morning or late in the night, that has you reaching out for the comfort of his warmth. over your delighted smile when he brings home a bouquet of tulips after a long day at work. over your glassy eyes, reddened nose and flushed cheeks as he takes care of you when the seasonal allergies kick in.

minho falls in love with you in the summer, over picnics in the park where you both lay on blue gingham picnic blankets, your head on his chest, as you watch the clouds overhead drift peacefully. over watermelon gelatos passed between teasing lips, the confectionary melting too quickly for your liking under the blazing sunlight. over spontaneous drives to the beach even though neither of you can swim, but you go just for fun, just to build sand sculptures in the shape of your cat babies and stand on the edge of the water to splash at each other. over long naps on the couch on days where you're too lazy to venture into the outside heat, preferring to stay cuddled up together under the air conditioner with niki playing in the background.

minho falls in love with you in fall, over shared slices of pumpkin pie as you watch the leaves turn yellow and red right outside your window. over the adorable way you hide your face behind your hands on nights where he puts on a horror movie because he insists on honoring the halloween spirit. over your off-key rendition of taylor swift's all too well (the 10-minute version) for most of the season because you adamantly claim that it's autumn's official anthem. over weekends spent attached at the hip, baking sugar cookies for hours on end. over your crestfallen pout as you take note of how the days keep getting shorter and shorter, already missing warm sunny weeks with all your heart.

minho falls in love with you in winter, over matching scarves and beanies, even though he often has to carry them for you because you have a bad habit of forgetting them before you go out. over the first snow of the season because they say that if you witness the first snowfall with the person you love, then you will stay together for a long, long time. over sweet cuddles in bed as a bad christmas movie plays on tv, and you fall asleep on his shoulder about half an hour into the movie despite being the one to select the movie in the first place. over your return from a shopping spree with your girlfriends with nothing for yourself but everything for soondoongdori, from christmas themed clothes to treats and toys.

but then again, maybe it's not entirely accurate to say that minho falls in love you merely four times a year. if he wants to be precise, then he would say that he falls for you anew every morning he wakes up and sees you asleep in his arms like a delicate miracle granted by a star he once used to wish upon. if he wants to get technical, then he falls in love with you with every smile that you send his way, which is a terribly sappy thing for him to admit but it doesn't make the statement any less true.

minho loves you every day of every week, of every month, of every year. he's loved you before he even met you, when you were just a romanticized idea in his head and hadn't yet walked into his life like the angel he was always meant to find. he loves you every minute of every hour; there isn't a second where you're not on his mind, not a single beat of his heart that doesn't spell out your name. he loves you throughout the seasons and a million times in between.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom @jisuperboard @wyzminho @amarecerasus @channection @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @judeduartewannabe @chanshyunjin @firelordtsuki @astronomicallyyy @alm334 @lashaemorow

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 08.04.2024]

[fandomtrumpshate]

Totals Time!

It's been a year of records and record-breaking. Of reaching new fandom spaces and building new community ties. It's been wild. And absolutely fantastic.

When we closed the auction signup window we had 981 offers —nearly 150 more than we'd ever had before. When we re-opened it for 4 more hours, hoping to find another 19 folks (because we wondered what an auction with 1000 offers would look like) you all came through in spades, boosting the auction everywhere and bringing back 100 new offers in 15 new fandoms, bringing us to 1081 offers this year - a 33% increase over our previous record.

And you all weren't done breaking records. Shattering them.

This is the first year that any of our supported nonprofit orgs has received a 5-digit sum. And? TWO of them did.

So. Are you ready to see what our community has done? Are you ready for the numbers?

This year

thanks to all of you

FTH raised…

$67,931.28

The breakdown of donations to orgs looks like this -

This brings our eight-year total to

$307,439.14

Huge thanks to our 797 creators offering 1081 auctions in more than 400 different fandoms and subfandoms, and to everyone who bid! And to our 17 fan crafters who brought in $4,127 of that total —60% more than our previous crafting record!

So, what's next?

Contact deadlines:

Creators, be sure you contact your bidders by April 1, and bidders, on your end please respond to their communication by April 15!

Bidders need to provide their creator with a workable prompt by June 30 (unless you've worked out a different timeline together) to ensure they have plenty of time to finish their fanwork.

Once the fanwork is posted, let us know via our form (can you believe FOURTEEN creators have already finished??) and if you’re posting it on AO3 be sure to add it to the Fandom Trumps Hate 2024 collection. If you’re writing a fic for FTH and need help from our Regiment of Fan Laborers, email us! As always, the deadline for completed fanworks is December 31.

We hope that for at least some people, your involvement in FTH will lead to continued action throughout the year. Sign up for our organizations’ email lists, check out their volunteer opportunities, and help boost their signals on social media!

And if you’d like to run your own fanworks auction for a good cause, we can help get you started!

We have a packet of organizational materials we’ve been sharing with other auction organizers since 2017; we’re planning to spend the month of April overhauling and updating these materials to incorporate many of the improvements we’ve implemented since then. If you’re thinking about organizing an auction or fanworks exchange in your fandom to raise money for a good cause, we would love to share those materials with you. Contact us at fandomtrumpshate at gmail.com and we can send you our auction playbook, as well as answer any questions you have about our process.

Your mods (@porcupine-girl, @captainbunnicula, @tiltedsyllogism, @anyawen, @renjunbabygirl, @trickybonmot, and @a-still-small-vox) are going to be going into post-auction hibernation mode (or, for most of us, post-auction deal-with-all-this-other-stuff mode) for a little while. So if you email us, don’t panic if we don’t get back to you immediately! We will start actively monitoring the inbox again by April 15 at the latest.

[diadraws]

sun basking is a behavior shared by ladybugs (because they are ectothermic, and hibernate) and cats (because they are lazy bastards) so honestly, the besties are laying on a warm roof together for an afternoon nap 

[zaephix]

carry me to tomorrow / / xavier , zayne , & rafayel . . .

loving him can feel like a multitude of things

a/n: having severe brainrot over these men, smb save me. rlly random but i got a 96 on my physics test everybody clap!! (can you tell who my favorite is)

loving XAVIER feels like waking up at dawn and watching the sun and moon up in the sky at the same time. with you looking at the view with heavy eyes as the shades of blue and black fade to warm tones of orange and yellow, exchanging greetings with the moon. you're reminded of the sun as you stare at his peaceful face, his grey-blonde hair messy, making his skin look even softer. with a content sigh, you crawl back into his embrace and he welcomes you with a hum.

loving XAVIER feels like staring at the clouds and getting carried away by your daydreams. even when the both of you are on missions, you can't seem to take your eyes off of him (whether it's for romantic reasons or skeptical reasons - your choice). just as the clouds hide the blue sky, it feels like he hides himself as well, choosing instead to appear as a dull blob. you've asked XAVIER about himself more times than you can count, and yet he still chooses to stay quiet. you've nothing but your imagination at this rate. however, both of you know that one day the clouds will fade, revealing the deep, rich, and true colors hidden away. time will tell.

finally, loving XAVIER feels like spring. like the fresh grass and the fresh rain, like the blooming flowers and the bright rays. spring is a new beginning, for the earth and people alike. with XAVIER, everything and nothing feels new. you feel like you've done this with him a thousand times before, and yet you're pleasantly surprised each time. as the song birds celebrate the arrival of spring, you and XAVIER lie in the grass. nothing is exchanged between the two of you - just your time. with each passing second, your eyes begin to close again. and just as your vision was fading, you heard soft snores and mumbles of your name.

loving ZAYNE feels like going home at dusk, wondering what he's up to. the day ends with orange and red hues up in the sky, the moon readying itself for nightfall. you know he has a tendency to get caught up in work too often than not. and you wonder if you're overstepping your boundaries once you're at the doorstep of his office. what you didn't know was that even through the long and boring days at the hospital, he debated with himself on whether or not to call you. loving ZAYNE feels like moments when the sun paints everything in orange, gold hues - short, but sweet moments worth remembering.

loving ZAYNE feels like trying to navigate through the fog. fog feels uncertain, the chill sending goosebumps down your arm. the mist feels as though it's coercing you to join it away from the safety of your car. and in times like these you're reminded of how ZAYNE's morning coffee fogs his reading glasses. the same way you chuckle before taking them off of him and wiping them. you don't notice, but the black haired man now looks at you fondly - the steam from his coffee now subsided.

finally, loving ZAYNE feels like the transition from autumn to winter. the days of colorful leaves and cool wind over with. the beginning of winter marks its arrival through the fragile and stiff trees, the wind blowing through them as though they miss the kisses they'd share with the leaves. the days are getting shorter and the nights are longer. although the beginning of winter signifies hibernation and hiding, you can't help but love it. nights with ZAYNE are spent in bed cuddled in blankets and pillows as you both read books together. you never really cared for the books but rather the man that is clinging to you in a fashion he would never reveal in public. you had no problem with it. you'd love him in private and in public, through the winter storm and the chilly mornings. and just as your vision was fading, you felt a sigh against your skin and hands tucking you in, getting you ready for your dreams.

loving RAFAYEL feels like midnight escapades, brought on by midnight phone calls. the night is pitch black, save for the few street lights on your way from your apartment to his studio and the glowing moon. it's a vulnerable hour, crickets chirping and the white noise of the few cars going down streets the only music of the night. but as soon as you're met with his cheeky smile, you seem to forget the eeriness. your dazed nods as he goes on to rant about his problem or his painting - whichever one it was. it was only when you yawned when he invited you to rest in his too-big-of-a-bed. you had no idea if that was his intention or not, but any intelligible thoughts were hushed as the lights dimmed and the mattress below you dipped from the added weight.

loving RAFAYEL feels like the dew that paints the grass in the late nights and early mornings. you observe from the cover of his patio as he sinks his feet into the grass, seemingly in deep thought about something. you supposed it was his creative process, however odd it may be. the sun is almost blinding as it rises again and tiny rainbows form as if to say hello. he was still rooted in place. you think he invites you over, however you were distracted. the moisture of the air reminds you of how with RAFAYEL moments are quiet, just like how the grass quietly embraces the oncoming dew - an old friend.

finally, loving RAFAYEL feels like summer. like the hot atmosphere and the ice-cream melting on your tongue and fingers. like the never ending sky and the vibrant butterflies flapping their wings. loving RAFAYEL feels like the vigor the waves have for the sand under the hot gaze of the sun. and yet, you can never get a second of peace with all of his exhibitions gaining popularity. loving RAFAYEL means that summer nights is all you can afford to yourselves, the rush of the day still struggling to fade away. sitting on the sand, the white noise of the waves crashing over the earth lull you in a trance. and just as your vision was fading you saw dusky purple hair and violet amber eyes come closer, the feeling of lips against your temple sending you off.

[scarlovebot]

UNSPOKEN INTENTIONS

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Summary: Natasha craves your touch

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

Natasha’s touch doesn’t go unnoticed, whether it’s her subtle hand graze against your thigh or nuzzling nose into your neck.

After all her years of abandonment she’s made up for within the time you two have been solidified together.

The beginning of your story was messy, drunken nights turned to intimate evenings - not the classic love story we all grew up to idolise.

It’s easy to pinpoint where Natasha’s need for embrace started

A breezy summer evening filled with barbecue foods and intoxicating beverages was a constant in these warmer months, surrounded by those you cherished the most.

Sprawled out against the garden furniture but closing the distance to keep warmth circulating, it became evidential that Natasha needed this the most

She lay slanted on your left hand side, arm draped across your shoulders whilst her legs encroached onto yours.

Possessing similarities to a koala, who attempted to attach herself onto you whilst going unnoticed

you noticed.

In your hands held delicacy, enough food to fill an animal ready for hibernation. The chargrilled sausage caught Natasha’s attention, going in for a mammoth of a bite you turn your head to face the beading eyes.

“Romanoff, what’s going on in that head of yours?” you say in a whisper, pointing the piece of meat in her direction

She smirks with slyness, you know that look to well.

In an attempt to play along with her games you pull your mind somewhere else, to the group. Nodding at their conversation whilst taking slow, seductive bites of your sausage.

You can only imagine how the rest of the evening played out.

Natasha used every excuse under the sun to get close to you, some of them were ridiculous but in reality you didn’t mind.

A fond moment and encounter of yours is in the colder months, surrounding by central heating and fireplaces the compound felt toasty.

however in Natasha’s mind it felt too frosty for her liking

as morning passed and afternoon arose you found yourself in the kitchen with only the red head.

You shared a liking in jazz music, both swaying to the soft beat and smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

Natasha stops in her tracks pulling herself into you, her hands found a starting point on your waist solidifying her stance.

With movements like a sly snake her warm hands sliver beneath the slim fit, figure hugging top you wore.

her dazzling green eyes look up to you, playing the puppy dog role was an easy pass.

Rolling your eyes in playful action, Natasha clears her throat “детка my hands are freezing” dragging out her sentence with pleading globes.

your very own hands travel to her backside, slowly lacing them underneath her lower half as if you were giving her the push she needed.

At your sudden but verifying movements she hums, Natasha’s grabby hands make contact with your chest - her delicate fingers rubbing circular motions, occasionally squeezing.

Tightly compressing your lips together so no sounds would escape at her desperate plead for action.

whether her intentions were meant or not you enjoyed her touch, the sexual tension always remained with the unspoken longing for Natasha’s touch starved hands.

you would never deny a lady of her womanly needs

[dlartistanon]

Shining and Nightingale: Connection, Plot Beats, and How Their Story Makes (Even) More Sense If You Read It As Romantic

Introduction

Belonging to the Followers faction, Shining and Nightingale were among the first 6* operators introduced at launch. With damage mitigation as their niche, Shining is a single-target medic who specializes in reducing incoming physical damage, while Nightingale is an AoE medic whose specialty lies in reducing incoming Arts damage. This post will delve into everything we know about them and how it's so gay, oh my god

Design Analysis

Upon first glance, you notice how they compare and contrast each other visually: Shining is dressed mostly in black, Nightingale in white. Shining has long, thin white horns that gently jut outwards, while Nightingale has thick, black horns that fold inwards. Shining keeps her hood on by default, giving her a mysterious and secretive appearance. She has dark brown eyes, Liz has light blue ones. Shining’s outfit is tattered and ragged, really giving off the vibe of a wanderer (a “roaming doctor”, as she puts it), in stark contrast to Nightingale’s clean and put-together attire. If you squint, Shining almost looks like a harbinger of death, whereas Nightingale is angelic. Both of them wear the insignia of the Followers, a Terran version of the Caduceus. Shining wears it on a necklace (and is the actual leader), while Nightingale has it etched onto her clothes. One of the black straps on Nightingale’s outfit also reads “The path to light is dark”.

The predominant colors in both their respective skins are the complementary blue and orange. Just as black and white are opposed, so is the contrast between blue and orange. Within Shining's Silent Night, there are flickers of red-orange accents in the form of crystals, while in Nightingale's Elegy, there is the vibrant blue of her bluebird and its wings/feather. Despite Shining’s skin being a summer/beach outfit, the overall atmosphere is foreboding, given the moonlit background, presence of crows/ravens, and color choices. The backdrop in Nightingale’s is very characteristic of Gothic settings.

The strongest theme tying both their designs (and stories) together is The Gothic, an atmosphere and aesthetic best exemplified and symbolized by moody, somber colors (often black) and the gnarled, twisted branches of dead trees found in both their designs, as well as pertinent cast. (We will discuss more on their narrative ties to The Gothic)

Nightingale is featured (alongside Myrrh) in the song “Spring’s Pulse”, while Shining’s song is called “Winter Absolution”. Spring and Winter are opposing seasons, different times in which life either flourishes or hibernates. Green and red (as well as blue and red) are contrasting colors, highlighting life and death. As well as white and black, often symbolic of purity and sin.

Additionally, one of the Latin verses in Shining's song translates to:

"Sing, my tongue, redemption. Of my flesh, the mystery sing. Of the blood, all price exceeding. Shed by my immortal being. Destined for the world's redemption. From a noble womb to spring."

Profiles/Voice Lines

For the longest time, the most we could gather from their past was that Nightingale was a victim, a prisoner, forced to heal others while captive and that Shining had rescued her before they came to Rhodes Island. She has a host of ailments that mere Oripathy can't be the sole cause for, including amnesia. Through other clues, we eventually learn that Shining had a connection to someone called "Confessarius" ("Confessarii" when referring to a group), something she is noticeably evasive and uncomfortable about.

Later, the mystery slowly began to unravel as many theorized that Shining herself was involved with Nightingale's imprisonment, evidenced by Liz drawing the similarities between Shining and her captors. A shared past dripping with intrigue.

It was these seeds that provided a tantalizing story of atonement, of redemption, from someone who had committed a terrible transgression against another, complacent in her pain and suffering, whom she eventually grew to care about--so much so that Shining decided to sever all ties to her former compatriots, slaughtering many and freeing Nightingale, running away together. Shining, disgusted with her actions, spending the rest of her life atoning for her sins, of which she feels she can never be forgiven for.

The juxtaposition of Shining, unyielding with her sword, covered in the blood of her once-fellow Confessarii, and her being exceedingly gentle with Nightingale as she leads her to someplace safe, away from that room, her captors, that tower, where they (she) can’t hurt Liz ever again. The fanon that Shining was complicit in what made Nightingale the way she is, and that she is currently atoning for those sins, was largely embraced by fans.

Nightingale’s Operator Record #1 - A Song and a Blue Feather

The Op Rec is a good showcase of the Followers dynamic (with Liz as the Lady and her two knights), but it also serves to show more of Liz's personality. We only get a very baseline interpretation of who she is as a person via her official file, but seeing her interact with Nearl and Shining gives us a clearer picture of just how strong-willed she is. She goes against Shining's warnings in order to soothe the pain of an Infected child, particularly because his father was inadvertently exacerbating his condition through what Liz calls "a cage of love" (foreshadowing?).

Throughout, we learn more about Liz's Arts, specifically that they give her empathic qualities and come with the drawback of shortening her lifespan every time she heals. The game-breaking ability to reverse Oripathy symptoms comes with equivalent exchange. Liz takes on the pain of others in order to make them feel better.

Near the end of the record, Liz asks if Shining is mad and to not blame Nearl for helping her. Shining's original call to avoid the town was born out of being concerned with Liz's health, but she admits that she should've respected Liz's decision. This is a stance that we then see get repeated in their future appearances in both side stories and the main plot--Shining prioritizing giving Liz agency, when she previously had none. Even when it results in Liz's condition worsening, something that Shining struggles with accepting at the same time, communicated through her asking Liz if her feeling more pain was necessary.

Nightingale’s Module #1 - Closed Hope

The module basically states outright that Nightingale views herself as a burden for having to rely on Shining and Nearl to help her navigate through life. This is another example of Liz's strong-willed personality peeking through.

"But for me, results speak loudest. Because I endured a little more pain, others can be born anew. This is very good. But… if I could be like ordinary people, without this physical pain, that spark of hope in my heart would surely shine a little bit brighter. Unfortunately, as I am now, I can only rely on others to survive. Like a light crystal in a lantern. Even if the lantern door is open, even if the light can bring warmth to others, the crystal itself is still fixed inside. It is fixed there, because it has no ability to move on its own. 'Nightingale, Nightingale––' I hope that one day, I will also be able to spread my wings and fly… just like the bird next to me. 'Nightingale, wake up already––' Until then, I must impose upon them yet more to take care of me.

...

'What's the matter, Shining?'"

In her Op Rec, she had even told Shining that if her legs had cooperated with her, she would not have asked Nearl for help, and that she would've gone out to heal that boy on her own. It's letting us know that she longs to be independent, and that she can't idly sit by as a passive observer when she has the ability to help others. Liz won't even let her own disabilities stop her from doing what she wants.

It's not a coincidence how Shining's presence in her module is represented by the analogy Liz uses to describe her predicament. Shining rescued her = the cage door is open. However, the crystal itself can't move = Liz's debilitating condition. Shining played her part in putting Liz in the cage to begin with. Shining is not only her savior, caretaker, and companion, there's a darker undercurrent as well.

Near Light

In Maria Nearl, Nightingale and Shining get a brief mention and cameo around the time Nearl crashes into the Major stadium. A connection can be made with Liz's Op Rec in which we evidently see that she and Nearl have a more physical (and arguably openly affectionate) dynamic compared to Liz and Shining. Before Nearl leaves to help her sister, we a get a brief look into her and Liz's parting conversation, in which Nearl assures Liz that she'll be okay and that Liz still has Shining with her.

In Near Light, where they get more screentime, we have the iconic Nearl and Nightingale slow dance underneath the streetlights. In the CG itself, Shining can be seen hanging back, sporting a smile. She calls Liz beautiful unprompted, which results in Liz getting a little bit flustered, already so from dancing with Nearl.

Beyond these instances fleshing out the NearLiz leg of the triangle, it's also a purposeful depiction of Shining intentionally distancing herself from Liz, presumably due to her guilt for her past actions. And how that can be extrapolated into Shining feeling as though she is unworthy to partake in that same kind of intimacy. This self-loathing mentality is once more reflected in Nearl the Radiant Knight's second Module--here's a rough translation:

"I suddenly felt a little regretful - after all, I have always hated my bloodline. I have never tasted the beauty of home and the meaning of family. She deserved to have it all, deserved to be noticed and blessed and I deserved not to be a part of it."

However, at the end of Near Light, we get the scene where Shining makes a decision to go back to Londinium with Nightingale, preparing us for their subplot with Confessarius. This exchange hangs over them like a cloud, as well as further cementing Shining's firm resolve to always remain by Liz's side, no matter her own misgivings about everything else. Even if the rest of the world is muddled in her eyes, the only thing that stays clear and in view, is Nightingale. Nothing else matters more.

Chapter 10-18

The depth of Shining’s feelings for Nightingale is truly something to take note of. "My place is always at your side" is practically a textbook subtextual/indirect confession. "I will always be at your side... for as long as you’ll have me." Because we must know that Liz has a choice. She will not impose her own wants onto Liz. Should the day arrive where Liz no longer wants her, Shining will honor it, as much as it hurts.

The way Shining navigates and conducts her feelings towards Liz in this manner is very reminiscent of the medieval concept of courtly love, which is essentially a kind of romantic love without ever imagining it to go any further. The lack of consummation is not only expected, but ideal. That the love existing in and of itself is satisfying.

The scenes where we see Shining holding back help supplement this reading. It also plays well into how the Followers are basically the "knight in shining armor" idea codified into three individuals with corresponding dynamics. For bonus points, courtly love has ties to spirituality, which coincides with another aspect of Shiningale's story with identity, fate, and their conflict with Confessarius.

The fact that Shining 's most immediate plans for the future all have to do with Nightingale is only the tip of her unending devotion. "I’ll stay with you, and go wherever you want to go, as long as you want me". And for Liz to quickly ask if Shining will come with her wherever she wants to go suggests that the love is reciprocated.

Chapter 11-10

Through a series of revelations, we discover that the current head of the Confessarii is Shining's father, who is possessing the body of her younger brother. And that Nightingale was an experimental subject whose physical body is a construct, making her the equivalent of an artificial human/homunculus.

The whole scene we see just how both Confessarius and Salus view Shining, Nightingale, and their relationship. As randmsapphic puts it, the method in which they talk about Liz as an object with a purpose and that Shining's attachment to her is nothing short of a phase speaks volumes as to how dismissive and strangely self-assured that Shining will come to her senses and do the right/rational thing and bring Liz back to help her. They entertain the notion of saving Liz by way of pushing Shining to return to them, because they are the only ones who can save her. Instead of immediately resorting to threats, they rely on manipulation, pulling the "family" card, preying on and weaponizing Shining's guilt and desire to help Liz. It's not subtle--this dynamic could very easily be seen as the reactions homophobic relatives would have.

In particular, Confessarius's fixation on bloodline purity is insanely creepy and not only comes off as very homophobic, but ableist as well. Him suggesting they can build Liz a new body is coercion to get Shining to obey him (which also implies that he thinks Shining's attraction to Liz is purely physical). Salus emotionally abusing Shining by saying that all of Liz's pain is Shining's fault. Attempting to shame Shining by claiming she abandoned her family for a stranger. Does it not have the vibes of homophobia saying that Shiningale's love/relationship isn't real and will never work?

Chapter 12-10

The way Shining utterly ties her sense of self-worth to Nightingale, literally describing herself as Liz’s sin… she will not refer to Liz with possessive pronouns, but will do it to herself for her. The longing, the guilt, the resolve, the codependency… is incredibly yuri. Back in Chapter 10, Shining has an exchange with the Nachzehrer King where she says the moment she was born, she had carried sin. After the dinner in Chapter 11, she tells a Confessarius soldier (before cutting him down) that she hates herself most of all.

Of all the ways to describe her relationship with Liz, Shining decides on "I am her sin". There is poetry in how she refrains from using any kind of possessive language about Liz. Shining belongs to Liz, but Liz belongs to no one. "I am hers, and she is everything to me". It goes back to how she somewhat keeps her distance despite the overwhelming devotion. "I cannot touch her with these sinful hands".

Shining truly exemplifies devotion. Whoever was responsible for writing Shining’s dialogue is pulling out all sorts of stops to have her express her love for Liz in every way without outright making her say the words "I love Liz".

Chapter 13-9 (unfortunately tumblr has an image limit so i can't cap the entire subchapter; you really should read it yourselves for that delicious Shiningale goodness)

Kal'tsit: The way you look at Nightingale isn't just with compassion. You're not just her doctor—she's healing your fears too. Her body has its issues, but she's a member of the 'Followers', as well as your companion, and not a delicate flower that needs your protection.

Nightingale: I'm fine, Shining. You don't have to look after me so meticulously.

More examples of Liz's strong character! A dynamic becomes even more interesting when the one you thought was less-dependent turns out to desperately need the other. By this point, you should know that Shining places Nightingale incredibly high up her list of priorities. The narrative makes it no secret. They continue to hammer home that, despite being her caretaker, just how much Shining is dependent on Liz. Liz has already internally talked about how she hates having to rely on Shining and Nearl because of her ailments. In her other appearances, she makes it even more apparent with her dialogue. While Shining mends Liz’s aching body, Liz is the one who soothes Shining’s hurting heart.

Confessarius: Poor 'Liz'. She think it's all her fault, because of the momentary kindness you showed her.

When you remember that Liz's Arts make her empathic to pain, it takes on another layer of meaning when she wants to take away Shining's suffering. It's reasonable to assume that Liz also had an attachment to Shining, even if you see it as such because Shining "brought her to life". But the vibe you get from her dialogue shows a strong affection and compassion for Shining. Arguably instinctive, considering the "nature" of who Liz originally was. A wandering spirit, a memory, a soul that was drawn to Shining because she felt her crushing pain and wanted to help her. An intangible presence given life by an achingly lonely and hurt individual.

Another post by randmsapphic suggests that Liz's "childhood memories" of her and Shining were in fact fabrications that Shining had imposed onto Liz, in some desperate attempt to have a connection with another person, which this scene confirms. Shining was so happy with Liz's creation that she quickly became attached to her. Is this a sort of twisted love/affection that was born out of Shining's self-loathing? Or her being born into a very dark and messed up lineage in which her fate is a doomed one, and so she latched onto Liz as a means of escape and a way to feel close to someone? It may have started off as such, but by the time we reach this point, the love grew to be genuine.

Remember in Liz's Op Rec, where she described the father hurting his son by keeping him in a cage of love?

The bluebird losing its strength the farther it travels away from home is a metaphor and reflection for how the Confessarii treat Liz, their experiment. This is the basis for her captivity. Combined with Shining's sudden shift into a cold demeanor when she had previously been warm to Liz, this only served to psychologically and emotionally damage Liz, as well as compound Shining's guilt for having continued to follow the wishes of her family.

At some point, prior to deserting, Shining had wiped Liz's memories, perhaps out of said guilty conscious, or a means to a fresh start, or even her own way to stop Liz from feeling any pain associated with those memories, but she was still afraid of what would happen should Liz recover them, which had been happening little by little. Shining had resigned herself to believing that Liz would hate her, would want nothing to do with her, if she ever found out the truth. She had to wrestle with the very real possibility that attempting to save Liz could mean losing her, or being separated from her. Shining never once saw Nightingale as a burden; she was only ever happy that Liz exists.

Credit to randmsapphic again: Every time Shining draws her sword, it's a viscerally unpleasant reminder of her eventual destiny. It's both the only way to truly free Liz, and is the bind that keeps her shackled to a doomed fate. When Confessarius offers her the sadistic choice between killing him (thus giving up her soul) or return Liz to captivity... what should she do? There is no choice here.

The way Confessarius keeps (creepily) phrasing it as Shining “giving birth” really does paint him to be a disgustingly vile patriarchal figure set on destroying not only Shining’s autonomy, but her life and relationship with Liz. How a woman is treated as an object, her worth limited to only serving as a breeding ground for the next generation. This read continues to make even more sense because remember the Confessarii dinner scene? The way they talked like they expect Shining to come home after having had her fun with Nightingale reeks of how society views lesbian relationships as not real/practice for men/just a phase. The proverbial Class S? Shiningale really is just Arknights-flavored Class S Yuri. If a Shining Alter has her pick up her sword again, it could very well symbolize her reclaiming her bodily autonomy and fighting for her love, and for the chance to have a life outside of what the patriarch(y) wants for her.

The more I read about the Shiningale in Chapter 13, the more I’m thinking that this can’t be anything else but yuri. Even the role Confessarius is playing as a villain/obstacle they have to overcome. A man getting between them by manipulating their feelings for nefarious purposes?

Liz telling Shining that she prefers her current name, how it encapsulates so much of who Shining is as a person; she's not just a means to an end for the Confessarii, she's more than what they've instilled in her since her birth. The Followers are all light-themed, and Shining is no exception. She broke Liz out of her cage and showed her the world. And Liz is the light of Shining's life, as was mentioned all the way back to her voiceline.

Liz telling Shining that she's always loved the name that she gave her... that she holds dear any and every part of Shining that's a part of her. Her gently chastising Shining for making the decision to sacrifice herself to save Liz... Don't give yourself up for me, especially without asking me. That's not what I want. For all the times that Shining made sure Liz knew she had a choice, this was the one time she didn't. Couldn't. And Liz won't have that. Whatever trials that await them, she wants to face them together with Shining.

The way Confessarius described Shining’s feelings towards Nightingale as “your rebellious love for her”. He knew that she would love Liz and factored that into his plan/manipulation of Shining. I don't know about you but… I don’t think there’s any other way to interpret that. No heterosexual explanation.

Realistically speaking, we know actual gay characters can’t make it past the censors unless it’s tragic (see Scavenger) or unrequited (see Tomimi). But Shiningale have like… playable immunity. It’s “implicit” enough to not trigger the censors but at the same time how can you not see it as romantic?

Their relationship is basically up there with Talulah/Alina. And I'd even go so far as to say that it's more explicit than Talulah/Alina. To my knowledge, they never used the word “love” to describe how Talulah felt about Alina. Just "friend". I know there's a point where subtext gets ridiculous enough to become maintext, but then that leads you to question why some get the "friends" label while others are allowed to use "love".

Could it be platonic love? Sure, of course you can love your friends. But would you pledge your entire life to a friend? What's so "rebellious" about loving a friend? (Interestingly, I think the JP translation calls it "immoral love", which is even more eyebrow-raising) Regardless, love exists between Shiningale. Confessarius knew it, and factored it into his schemes. He counted on Shining to love and cherish her. Shining loves Liz, that much is undeniable. And Liz loves her back, enough to stop Shining from sacrificing herself to save her. He's literally weaponizing the love they have for each other.

Shiningale and The Gothic

I had mentioned before that both characters' designs as well as the narrative beats of their story have Gothic literature elements. I want to make a list of the ones I could find that relate to them as characters and as a narrative:

A focus on medical conditions, doppelgangers (the "pure" Confessarii looking like each other), forbidden power/knowledge, the dichotomy between light and darkness, imprisonment, rebellion, isolation/seclusion, gloominess or a gloomy setting, the grotesque/macabre, terror/horror, justice vs revenge, good vs evil, fear and suspense, the supernatural/paranormal, female victims, prophecies/curses/omens, mystery and secrets, involvement of the clergy/religious figures (confessor/absolver of sin), the dead don’t stay dead/hauntings, romanticism

The Gothic hero is “weakened by love”, they either rescue their love interest or pine away in despair

Significance of blood (relations) and inheritance, the duality of giving and denying life

An examination of family structure, patriarchy, hereditary suffering

Dreams/nightmares, memories

Secrets, past sins, sins of the father, darkest deeds

Driven by love, duality of man (appearance)

Dwelling on the melancholy, of wistfulness and regret, but not overcoming kindness

Concept of “othering” from society (Shining split herself away from her blood family to be herself and with Liz, her chosen family

The protagonist’s passionate love is torn between his desire to achieve the beloved and the family’s disapproval, control, and choice. Gothic novels also tell the tales of love in vain. The lovers are parted due to the conspiracies of the people opposing them being together

Gothic sexuality is usually somewhat repressed—women are expected to be pure and somewhat helpless while men are expected to be quietly predatory. It's also patriarchal, with men making moves and women reacting to them

Homosexuality = the love that dares not speak its name. Repressed sexuality, forbidden desire

Female Gothic protagonists are often committed to justice, unwilling to compromise their values, loyal, respectful of others, curious, intelligent and devoted to their faith. Some are gentle, kind, likeable, clever, witty, quiet, supportive, thoughtful, hard-working, independent and strong. Others are courageous, witty, brave, determined, knowledgeable and socially competent. On the flip side, some are also strong-willed and outspoken to a fault. They’re often socially awkward, depressive, melancholy, brooding, solitary and selfish. Some are jealous, fiercely territorial, deceitful, powerless and deceptive. Others, like their male counterparts, are prone to violence

Male Gothic protagonists are often conflicted, solitary, tortured, brooding, and secretive, self-loathing, wracked with guilt, have a self-hate of their own existence

Female-centric Gothic stories often trend towards obscured/anticipated fears, focuses on persecuted women and the domestic space she risks entrapment within/disturbed spaces

Food for Thought

Ryuzakiichi has a knight original character. Tell me... this doesn’t just look like Shining without horns? THE RESEMBLENCE IS UNCANNY.

Knowing this, I'm convinced that he split the concept of a "knight in shining armor" into two characters: Nearl and Shining. Nearl embodies chivalry. Shining embodies devotion.

The followers dynamic can best be summarized as two knights swearing fealty to one lady, but what's interesting is that while Nearl is the most obvious depiction of a knight, it's actually Shining who serves the role even harder, because she is quite literally Liz's knight. Which tracks with how Shining looks nearly like a carbon copy of his OC. She's the one who rescued the princess from her tower, while simultaneously being the "wicked witch" who put her there in the first place. And just like a Gothic hero, is tormented and sees herself as a monster.

Comparison to the main plot of Shadow of the Colossus. The driving force is that Wander commits acts (largely agreed to be treasonous) in order to revive Mono. The relationship between Wander and Mono is left up to interpretation as to whether it's platonic, familial, or romantic, but most fans of the game seem to theorize that Mono is indeed Wander's love interest.

Normally I despise turning the Followers into a nuclear family unit in any direction (especially people saying Liz is a minor and infantilize her to be the designated "child"), but for a moment, seeing Shiningale looking at Nearl’s portrait, my brain interpreted them behaving like Nearl’s (substitute) parents being proud of her accomplishments.

This was not helped by stuff like Shining’s teasing ("Look at you, our knight acting snarky"), Liz asking if she and Shining were also Nearl’s family, and some apparent discussion about Mlynar being a "bad end" Margaret who lost his own light (his brother and sister-in-law, Margaret’s parents).

If Shining and Nightingale are to Nearl as Schnitz and Yolanta were to Mlynar, then that might also explain why he dropped his jerk behavior for one second just to compliment how the two Sarkaz were good for his niece. If Nearl had never met Shining and Nightingale, her own light might’ve gone out too...?

IN CONCLUSION

Shiningale are complementary in so many ways. It really feels like several aspects of their characters are tailor made to match; you can’t have one without the other, their development is tied together… soulmates. Hopefully this post helps encourage you to consider their story in a certain lens if you hadn't before.

To quote a CN post I saw on the matter after Chapter 13 was released (rough translation): "Shining's sword pieced Nightingale's heart, and Liz came alive. Liz's existence helped give Shining emotions. Liz became Shining's redemption. Shining renounced her old name and Liz cherishes hers, a transformation of two people choosing to fight and change their destiny. Although Liz is physically fragile, her spirit and will are very strong. Although Shining has excellent swordsmanship, her self-hate and inner turmoil weigh her down. They are truly complementary in every sense."

They each want to take away the other's pain. Shining doesn't want Liz to die. Liz doesn't want Shining to die for her. They are each other's mutual salvation.

[muntitled]

Campus Culture | L.DH

Pairings: Himbo!Haechan x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Haechan turns into a completely loveable but mindless replica of himself when inebriated and only Drunk Haechan might be able to seduce his uptight roomate... it only counts as a drunken mistake if it happens once, right?

Sfw Warnings: Roomates AU, Fwb to Lovers, Forbbidden Relationship, Confessions, Fluff, Alcohol consumption, Angst, CollegeAU, Himbo!Haechan

Nsfw Warnings: Smut (+18, Minors DNI) Fwb to lovers Roomate!Haechan, Perv! Haechan, Dub/CON, Grinding, Choking, Premature Ejaculation, Handjob, Needy!Haechan, Rough sex, Oral Fixation, Nipple play, Unprotected Sex (don't be dumb), Cervix Fucking, Breeding Kink, Cum Play.

A/n: This is more of an enemies to lovers if you squint. If you feel triggered by very slight depictions of bullying, please be wary. I also had no idea where I was going with this. It all just kinda spewed out. ANYWAY, I love Himbos

Usually, you're better equipped for an evening with Haechan's juvenile friends coming over and doing whatever it is that boy's seem to do once they're inebriated in each other's company.

"The bear emerges from hibernation,"

Haechan's voice is like that of a nature documentary narrator, and his head is in his hands as he leans over the armrest with a smile on his face.

“Rested, and in search of something to sink her teeth into.” You remain stoic faced as you breeze past the group of boys on your way to the kitchen adjacent to the living room.

With only a shallow counter to separate the two spaces, you're still roused by the sight of Haechan in your periphery, legs spread and head thrown back as he watches you with a dopey smile.

Jeno, Jaemin, Renjun and Jisung murmur their greetings dismissively, still vividly engrossed in their game while Chenle types away at the screen of his phone, his mind all together trapped in cyberspace. You breathe out airly as a vague sort of peace befalls you. This has become your norm.

They are so incredibly loud, Haechan's friend's are, that their cacophony bled through every thin wall in your shared apartment. So loud, in fact, that you were made privy to every degenerate, delinquent, and downright disgusting little detail that swam about in their conversation.

Whenever they were over, there was a vibrancy permeating throughout the apartment, which was either attributed to Haechan's need to speak at a higher octave than the rest of the group or Chenle’s obnoxious, though admittedly contagious laughter.

Not everything was daisies and sunshine, however.

You were made subject to Haechan's incessant teasing and petulance that only seemed to double in the presence of his friends. You ignored him, viewing his behavior as a package of a roommate system (more accurately: needing his money to keep yourself and your academic pursuits afloat.)

Even more harrowing is the fact that Haechan is completely accommodating, dare you say, even hospitable (when he's sober). It was very difficult to hate him. No matter how badly you wished to let your vexation infect the inner crevices of your mind... he always made sure to let you know in advance.

He'd knock softly on the door (a by-product of a covenant you both had forged upon deciding to live together. Knocking is something akin to treading carefully through a graveyard. Sacred) letting his usually loud voice simmer to a whisper because he almost always caught you studying at your tiny, disastrous desk and he'd say, "Hey, just a heads up, they're coming over tonight,"

You did not need clarification on the ambiguity of who 'they' were but your heart would plummet all the same.

His warning would allow you, not only to stuff your headphones around your neck, for easier access whenever the noise became too oppressive, but it also allowed you to grab the snacks and food necessary before locking yourself in your room.

Not attributed to any social anxiety, but Haechan's friends had proven to be... difficult to bear in their own ways. There was Chenle, Renjun, and Mark, who held a sort of distinguished naughtiness that you fancied way more than Jeno, Jaemin, Jisung, and Haechan's borderline flirting.

It had proven very difficult not to be included in their antics, especially given the very annoying fact that their energy was so freaking infectious.

As you proceed to turn on the kettle, Haechan speaks up once again. “Since you're already there… a coke, please, Madame.” He knew that you knew that he did not actually want a coke. He just wanted to see you vexed.

“Your legs are in perfect working condition, last I checked," your face remained stoic as you said, “Get your own coke.”

Jaemin immediately cackles to Haechan's right, prompting a light snicker from Chenle and the rest. Haechan sends a worried gaze towards them before bringing his eyes back to yours. Now he's on a mission to piss you off even more.

“C’mon...” he whines in an over indulgent American accent. “Be a doll and hand me a coke-I mean a beer." He stretches his neck from side to side, now deep into his theatrics, "I'm a man-”

The knife clanks on the counter as you scoff, “Since when?" You ask, "And what is with this ‘I'm a man’ stuff?”

Haechan only swats animetedly at the air, “It's cus I'm a man, Jagi. You don't get it cus you're not a ma-”

“Yeah,” you say, turning to prepare your noodles, “I don't wanna know actually.”

There's a sudden influx of celebratory hollering from Jaemin and Jeno, while Renjun and Jisung groan in defeat, signaling the end of their game.

Jaemin turns to you as he says “You seriously don't remember?”

You let the silence speak for you.

“He’s been like this ever since the asexual comment.”

The laughter escapes your throat as you shift your eyes to a now moody and grumbling Haechan. His arms are crossed as he avoids eye contact.

“Seriously?! That's why you've been on such a toxic gym bro kick?”

The flamboyant accent is still present as Haechan says, “Hey man, if you're not gonna get me a coke, just say that, I've got places to be people to see-”

The snort leaves your lips before you can stop it, “You've got a psych textbook to see and you're not even seeing that.”

“Stop with the celibacy jokes before he becomes worse!” begs Renjun.

Your mouth is open in false accusation, with the hints of a smile present, “It's quite literally not my fault Haechan's a virgin.”

“I'm not a virgin!” Haechan whines, letting his previously infuriating accent dissolve into his perfectly infuriating normal voice. “I have sex, all the time, tell her Jaemin. Tell her I have sex.” Your eye shifts easily to Jaemin, who only shakes his head.

“Ah, I told my therapist I'm trying to be more honest in my day to day,"

Now your laughter bubbles up to the ceiling, and you're throwing your head back, eyes shut.

“You all make me wanna kill myself.” Says Haechan, pushing himself up from the couch. The sight of him approaching sobers you ineffably from your laughter. He's not particularly tall, but there's a quality about him that asserts itself as height. A silent substitute.

“I’m being falsely accused of being a virgin, I have to get my own cokes?! What is this life of mine?!" A snicker escaped the confines of your lips as you empty your noodles into your bowl. Your albeit small little laugh was a sound so pretty, Haechan could not help but perk his ears up at the sound.

He inched his way slowly into the kitchen as you took one giant unladylike bite from your noodles. Unbeknownst to you, Haechan shares a glance with Chenle over in the living room. One that prompts Chenle into stabbing Renjun in the ribs with his elbow. They were all watching as you tried to shuffle past Haechan.

Haechan, who wouldn't let you pass until heard him say,

"Not a virgin." The words were veneered in a quiet whisper and in those few seconds, you were convinced the globe had stopped spinning on its imaginary axis. You became hyperaware of yourself, the noodles still very much inside your mouth and the soup dribbling out the corners. You clumsily wipe at your lip as you gaze up at him, smiling away like the Cheshire Cat.

While your heart proceeded its cataclysmic aself destruction, Chenle released the first snort. A snort that prompted an entire wave of laughter from his gaggle of friends. They were all laughing now. Haechan's face melted into a spout of his own laughter until he was doubled over.

"Mm," your nostiled flared , "I'll be in my room," You had disappeared in a hurry, hellbent on returning to your room. Hellbent on calming your runaway heart.

While you were nursing wave after wave of embarrassment, Haechan's eyes were sparkling with mischief.

"Don't even try," Jaemin snickered, noticing that look in Haechan's eye as he stared after you. "She's locked up tighter than a prison. You'll only get your wittle heart broken."

The following Friday had arrived with the small promise that you were to stay in your room for the foreseeable evening. You had chosen to occupy yourself from Haechan's 'get together' by sitting at your desk, like most of your nights: Completely absorbed in perfecting your English Lit notes on Post colonialism.

Your eyes were practically glued on the endless enriching notes written by Achebe, Lamming, and various other authors you revered religiously. Your studying had been going swimmingly until the arrival of a drunk, slightly dazed Haechan, indicated by the heaviness of his bloodshot eyes and the slight sway in his form by the door. Haechan was a very different person when he was drunk. He got sloppy, as if he was at constant war with reality.

You both pause, in a vague liminal space until he breaks the silence with a breathy slight slur, “Well, this isn't the bathroom,”

Your eyes narrow. You can't help but snap in a manner that makes you forget all your civility.

“Evidently,” you say with an unimpressed drawl.

He lived here. He should know where the bathroom is, inebriated or not.

There is a tone in your voice that was specifically crafted to have him cringing away from you, like most men on campus tended to do. You were too much of a straight arrow for them, too narrow-minded with not enough complexities and not enough strings that needed detangling. Most men saw that you could smell the bullshit from a mile away, and you were very much aware of what they referred to you as…

Uptight.

Instead of shrinking away like you initially expected, a small, almost thrilled smile curls at the ends of his purt, heart-shaped lips. He only steps closer into your space.

“No, don't do that,” You're scowling at him but still, the bear refuses to retreat.

Your messy desk where you remain seated in a chair seems to catch his attention until soon, he's leaning back against the desk in front of you.

“Don't you need the bathroom-”

“You don't want me here?” He asked, genuinely confused as if everyone was just dying to be in his presence, “I'm not sure what you're busy with over here, but I could help,” He says, swiping a large hand over at the piles of notes scattered on the desk.

“I shouldn't have to tell you not to invade my personal space, Haechan. If this is some stupid dare-"

“Only strangers can invade each other's space, Jagiya," he whispers, snortingbas if you were the one acting silly here. “We're not strangers. I'm your dumb virgin roomate, right?"

Your eyes widen imperceptibly as you push yourself up from your chair.

“I'm going to fucking kill you when you're sober-”

“I'm not even that drunk.” He deadpans. It's as if this boy is unable to mask whatever emotion that seems to pass through him at that very moment.

“I just wanted to check on you.” He beams as he pushes himself further along your desk.

“Are all these notes yours?” He asks, picking up one of your discarded notes. You strive to grab at the flimsy pieces of notepad paper in his hands, but he swipes it swiftly out of reach every time.

“Haechan, you're messing up my system-”

“You must be really smart,” he whispers, and you immediately chastise yourself for letting his words erupt a sudden electrical storm through your once steady heartbeat. “Your handwriting is so pretty too… woah,” he admires before you see his eyes quickly peek about from the paper, “I really like smart girls,”

You find your voice, hidden somewhere in the depths of being flustered. He interrupts you, all the same, “It's okay to say you're smart… I think that's really, like, hot-”

It's impossible to account for the events that followed in a somewhat episodic format because nothing like it had ever happened to you before.

One moment, Haechan is gazing down at you like he wants to eat you and the next, his hand is wrapped around your throat, pulling you up from your chair until your lips are crashing onto his… You had not perceived just how touched starved you were, until you found your inhibitions melting, and you were kissing him back just as fiercely. He was impatient and sloppy, pushing his tongue in too quickly while his hand marked up every inch of your body. “Pretty,” he mumbled in between wet kisses, “You so pretty… y'just feel so pretty.” Once Haechan's lust was involved, the rest of his brain, it seemed, shut down like the finishing hours of a toy factory. He was switching your positions, pushing you onto the desk as he trailed kisses down your neck.

“Your friends,” you murmured before throwing your head back, offering him better access, “We can't.”

“We can,” he nodded, while pushing himself in between your legs, “We can because I want to,” He punctuated his sentence by thrusting his sweatpants-clad hips right against your core. He seemed to have quickly caught a liking to this form of intimacy because soon, Haechan is breaking apart fromcthe kiss to gaze down at his hips pushing against your core.

His breath is peppered with a soft and dazed, “Woah…”

He nodded very slowly, “I like this very much.” Haechan said with grave finality, which evidently was the calm before the storm. You locked your hand around your mouth as Haechan sank his fingers into the sides of your hips, grinding his bulge against your core like there was nothing else that mattered. He brought your hips to meet each of his stuttering but hard thrusts and your head fell back in the stuttering… constant… impact.

“See?” He says, “See how good it feels?” he mumbles incoherently, now in a violent pursuit of his own orgasm. “F-Fuck,” he whimpered, feeling his cock twitching in his sweats. A feeling that usually let him know the end was near. He quickly clamped his hands on the underside of your ass before lifting you slightly off the desk, just enough to move impossibly closer between your legs.

He hugged you, wanting to feel your soft tits pushing up against him as he was grinding you both to a quick orgasm.

“You're close aren't you?” His voice cracks when he says, “Please be close, because I'm so fucking close-”

But all you're able to do is fight to keep your eyes open as you watch the slightly cracked open door. “H-Haechan-”

“Look at me, Cupcake,” he practically whined before forcefully bringing your eyes back to him with a flick of your chin.

The eye contact sent him down a rampage of lust and his hips stuttered as his mouth hung open,“F-Fuck, just like that- you're so good-” he lifted his baggy shirt, to watch himself thrust one more time before his rhythm crumbled and his hips stuttered as he came in his sweats.

You did not have the energy to tell him you didn't cum, only sprouting a brand new vexation as he swayed his way in search of the bathroom.

That had been your first and last devious encounter, before you avoided him like the plague. It had not taken much, because Haechan was vastly more sensible when he was sober. Emerging from his room like a bear out of his den and rubbing his messy head of black hair as he grumbled, “Did I do something weird last night? Or stupid?” He groans, “I have this feeling that I did something extra stupid and weird last night.” Although your heart plummeted minutely, you saw this as a lifeline and you took it.

“You were drunk, Haechan, so you probably most certainly did.”

You allowed yourself to live in the peace of sober Haechan until things once again only got dangerous on Friday nights, when his enablers would all congregate in the living room, tossing back cans of beer.

Your quick trip to the bathroom had ended with Haechan looming in the doorway, once again. With a near constant pout he exclaimed, “I missed you!”

“You see me everyday,” you grumbled before making your way to the sink to wash your hands. There was a bubbling in your stomach, that you would only dissect later. Whether it was excitement or frustration at seeing him this way.

“Still missed you-”

“I think you missed my body,” you said, before drying your hands, “Not me.”

“Both. I missed both,” he says, before beaming the sunniest, brightest smile you had ever seen on a face. You had to look away as you stepped towards him, for your sanity.

“Please move, Hyuck-”

“I wanna play,” he says, “We had so much fun the last time,”

“You fucking seduced me the last time and I fell for it like an idiot." You sighed deeply, "I studied myself to exhaustion. Im such a fucking idiot.”

He looks deep into your eyes as he very seriously says, “Don't say that-”

“What do you like about me? I mean what could you actually like and appreciate about me-” For all of 5 seconds the boy is trapped in a worrying daze. As the seconds tick on, your blood pressure rises and you're pushing roughly at his chest, which once again proves to be futile. “Fucking move, Haechan. I'm not doing this with you.”

His whines soar higher, “But why?! I didn't even really get to see your boobs, please let me see your boobs?” you stop his hand on its way to cup your breasts in mid air. He slumps

“You make me wanna kill myself.” He grumbles before stomping away to rejoin his friends. As Haechan sat down he breathed out heavily before whining, kicking and punching at the air. His friends, seeing nothing new with his tantrum, did not entertain it as they played their games.

Haechan just couldn't understand. He wanted you and, based on everything that transpired, you wanted him. So why not just let it happen?

You were making things too complicated and complicated is not something he enjoyed very much.

Haechan did not grasp onto much but you make it exceptionally clear that you did not want the interaction to be made public knowledge, and he, surprisingly obeyed your wishes. Your only enemy, it seems, were these hangouts Haechan scheduled with his friends. You liked to avoid unnecessary juvenile squabbling when necessary. You had to study instead, until you built the proper revenue to buy an apartment of your own, free from Haechan's provocation.

But you had fallen asleep.

The dusk bleeding into darkness until you were peeling your face off of your Classical lit textbook and nursing a grumbling stomach...

Your ears perked and your stomach sank as you heard boyish laughter bleed in through the cracks of the doorway. They had already arrived and you had zero rations to combat this venomous hunger.

It was guaranteed to be a short and curt journey past the small apartment living room, into the kitchen. A journey whereby you would pray you evade the group of boys invading your shared living room. Or at least one boy in particular...

Had Haechan been a non factor, your anxieties would have been perfectly nullified, but tin the wake of a troublesome post-study hunger, you had no other choice but to venture out into the living room.

You had hope your trip would be a curt one, entertaining not a single, word, jab, or comment as you were on your way to fly to the kitchen. Your feet stopped you before you could make it. Arrested in stark realisation that there is no noise at all. You round the short corner to find Haechan seated patiently on his couch with his hoodie up, tapping away at a mobile game while humming angelically. You immediately noted that he was sober and that set your mild frustrations at ease.

“Oh, hey,” you murmured, before swaying over to the adjoining Kitchen, separated only by a shallow counter. As you stare down at your yoghurt, you miss the way in which Haechan's face snaps up at tye sound of your voice. His feet fly off the coffee table and he rights himself infinitesimally.

“You guys aren't hanging out today?”

“There's a party somewhere on campus,” he switches his phone off and stuffs it into the pocket of his goodies as he shrugs, “Didn't feel like going.”

You walk back into the living room, and Haechan watches as you nod silently before planting yourself on the couch next to him. He's very perceptive and plants a couch cushion behind your back in the process. You realise then that you much preferred him this way.

“I'm having a hard time guaging the fact that you didn't wanna get drunk,” although a short chuckle escapes your lips, Haechan is not laughing. “I don't always think about getting drunk, you know.” The smile disappears from your face automatically as you bring a spoon of yoghurt to your lips.

“Of course… sorry-”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” Haechan watches your tongue lightly poke out and nip at the yoghurt before lazily bringing his eyes back to you. “If anything, I should be sorry.” An immediate wave of discomfort washed over you when the words left his mouth. So he was aware.

“Drunk Haechan sucks,” he says, “You don't have to make excuses for him.” You're caught in a wave of silence, your yoghourt forgotten on your lap. He wants to pull back but he has your attention now and it's fueling him with all the confidence he needs before he's scooting closer on the couch, until your thigh is directly against his.

“Earlier in the week you asked me what I like about you-”

“Haechan, you don't have to-”

The discomfort bled into embarrassment now and you fought to get up but he placed his hand on yours.

“I don't remember what I said,'' his lips pout lightly as his eyebrows furrow, “I don't know if I said anything at all. I just… want you to know that I wasn't quiet because nothing came to mind. I was speechless because it was like trying to list the stars. Tiring and fucking endless.” He breathed out, before looking away abashedly, “You're a good cook,” he says, “you always make us something to eat for Friday nights. You're so driven, in a way that is equal parts obsessive but also really fucking hot.” Your mouth parts slightly and Haechan's eyes once again lazily drops down to watch them. His voice is airy and loght as he says, “Fuck, and you're so pretty and smart.” He's speaking purely from a place of lust and admiration, which only has you melting further. You much preferred this Haechan.

“You make me feel safe because I know you always have the answers…” You let his words hang stagnant in the air for a while, letting yourself marinate in the pleasure of it, while his own thumb rubs circles around the back of your hand.

“I mean…” The Insecurities were steadily sinking in because by the laws of campus culture, you both were not supposed to be together. Your names were met with different responses and different emotions attached to them. You'd hate his popularity to diminish because of you. Instead of spewing out these words, you only whispered, “Are you sure? I mean, think of what people-”

In a series of swift movements, Haechan's hand cradling your own had gripped down tighter before dragging your hand until it was flush against his bulge. He releases a heavy breath as his eyes fall momentarily shut. Gritting his teeth together as he throws his head back in momentary euphoria as if he had been waiting to do this.

He brushes your hand up and down as he says, “Don't you dare ask me if I'm sure.” He says, unable to stop himself rutting against your hand. A wave of confidence soon falls until you're taking control and crawling your hand up to the waistband of his sweats. He whines in anticipation as you stuff your hand inside until you are cupping his underwear-clad bulge in your open palm. Haechan's eyes are heavy when he swings his head lazily to you, watching you watch his hips lift to graze himself against your hand.

“I need you,” he whispers, before raising a hand, immediately cupping your breasts, “I need you so fucking bad.” He can feel the presume wet the tight constraints of his boxers and he locks his jaw tighter. “I wanna fuck you, Cupcake,” your stomach warms at the reiterating of the nickname he had given you when he was drunk and equally ravenous, “Please let me,” He juts his hips up with every whine that escapes his throat, “Please-”

“I need you too-” before the words even leave your mouth he's lunging at you in a wild kiss. “Fuck, your lips are so soft,” he mumbles before forcing his his thumb into your mouth and watching with heavy eyelids as he lowers you onto the couch. Your jaw goes limp as Haechan, seemingly entranced with swiping his thumb along your wet tongue.

“So warm,” he murmurs as he hovers above you. Haechan lowers himself between your open legs, “Your mouth I'd so fucking pretty, so fucking warm-”

He sounded exactly like he sounded when he was drunk. Sloppy, incoherent and not making much sense. But you could not discount the pool of wetness that glistened your underwear as Haechan continued to play with your tongue.

“Fuck-” He whispers, watching the saliva coat his finger as he unconsciously thrusts his bulge once again into your core. He seems too realise that he hadn't, in fact, pulled his cock out and he curses lightly before hurriedly moving to do just that.

“Your boobs-” He whispers as he pulls his aching cock out, “Please let me see-”

Before the words even leave his mouth you're pulling your shorts and top off swiftly. Haechan immediately doubles over, thrusting into the air once before he's fisting the base of his cock, as if he was on the cusp of cumming.

“F-Fuck, I think I need to fuck you now-” He said, already sinking deep into you. Your moans fight valiantly to drown out his perpetual whines before he buries his face in between your neck and shoulders. He's breathing heavily as he begins to fuck steadily up into you, releasing little melodic ‘hah, hah, hah's as he peels back to look down at you with heavy pussy-drunk eyes.

“Fuck it feels so good, Haechan,” he thrusts harder at that before lowering his lips to your nipple and sucking without ever breaking eye contact. The stimulation from your nipple and the head of his cock bumping into your cervix has your mind spinning with euphoria. You haven't even cum yet but this feels like you're trapped in that same state of pleasure.

“Fuck, baby you're so tight around my cock,’ his breath blows down against your wet nipple and you buck your hips up to meet his thrusts. “If you carry on like this you're gonna make me spill inside you,” you throw your head back, mouth parting even wider as a chorus of moans leave your throat after his sentence.

“F-Fuck you want that? You want me to cum inside you?”

You cannot speak, completely fargone at this point but your cunt still clenching around him is all the answer he needs before he's ramming into you with urgency. “Fuck, you,make me feel so good Cupcake-” He's once again pressing his fingers into your mouth, as of needing to feel the warm wetness just to get off.

He's looking down at you as of you hung the moon, “F-Fuck I'm cumming-” He fights to keep his eyes open and watch you whine around his fingers as your own orgasm crashes in violent succession. You're both fighting to press your hips together, he's fighting to stay inside as an endless string of cum flights to push him out. You're both breathing heavily, both staring into each other's eyes as Haechan pulls his middle and index finger out of your mouth. You're absolutely speechless as he cleans his fingers with his own mouth, all without breaking eye contact.

“I… can't believe I came like that-” You say, eyes caught in a daze.

“Shit- I was supposed to rub your clit, wasn't I?” He's already slipping out of you and craning open your legs.

“N-No, Haechan I came, I promise I came. Fuck-” He's rubbing small circles against your puffy clit, using his cum as lube. “You have no idea how badly I needed you cumminh around my cock like that,” he says before spraying a gentle kiss against your knee. He's playing with your cunt, not to bring you to orgasm, you realise, but unconsciously. “We're boyfriend and girlfriend now, right?”

You snicker lightly before nodding with finality. Thus, as the beginning of a new but interesting dynamic, in which you drove Haechan to study more while he, in the same breath, got you to open up more. He dropped your inhibitions and coaxed you out of your comfort zone…

[yayll]

hai !! i am wondering if i can request something about foxzai w foxreader.. i dont mind any scenario i just want something about them in love hehe.. especially since they r both foxes:3

hiiiiii baby! i'm SO sorry this took quite a while, i was away for a bit on vacation and have just been trying to catch up on requests. for this specific one i didn't kno if you wanted them to be full on foxes or like fox hybrid ish so i went with the kitsune approach who can be both! i hope you like my interpretation and i'm srry if it's not proper but i had a lot of fun working on it for you and seeing these two in love hehe <3 love u

The winter can be harsh on the wild, this you already know. But the warmth that does remain doesn't come from the security in survival, It comes from knowing that if you make it through the season or should you perish during it you will always be under the watchful gaze of the one you love.

It's a brisk morning and in your snow lined fox den it's business as usual. There's no hibernation, only you and your silly little partner as you spend everyday together. He's a bit off, a bit goofy, but so are you for letting him live with you ever since that day he limped into your den! You nursed him back to health as best you could and he hasn't left you ever since, not that you'd ever want him to. Dazai's also lazy, selfish, and unintentionally hilarious during the most inappropriate times so you need to be careful when trying to understand his more 'dramatic' moments and-

Oh, yeah. food! Sooo hungry. You pad your way towards the soft spot you both share where he sleeps soundly, curled up in his kimono, his nine tails tightly wrapped around him. You think his bandages must keep him extra warm too, what a package deal. Oh how pretty he looks like that... You kneel and nudge him awake with a soft whisper.

"Hi... it's time to eat."

His pointy ears perk up and he pops one eye open as he scans you first thing.

"You brought food already? Woooowww... How gracious of you, cutie~"

You snicker quietly to yourself, and shake your head.

"No, we're going together. You need to start earning your meals."

"Pfft. I'd never make you earn your meals, you know."

You make another sound of sheer entertainment at his cute whining, and nudge him again, this time carding your fingers through his messy brown hair, and caressing those soft ears that twitch with every word you say. He could stay like this forever, he thinks. With your approval, hopefully he will.

"Is that so? I dunno... I'd say every time I head out into town to find your specialty canned crab it's quite a quest for me. Or when I trick those humans into giving me more tofu than usual for our stews I really do wonder if you ever stop to think if that's a harder than usual task for me-"

Your words are cut off by a swift and fluffy tail that clamps over your mouth. You stay quiet, a wide smile playing on your lips as you watch Dazai become animated in a second.

"...Okay, okay! Fine. I'll go... And of course, you'll do the cooking."

"I always do the cooking, Osamu."

"Yes, and thank god for that, because I love doing the eating~"

You quirk an eyebrow as you fold your arms across your chest and hum. He's so cute when he's being high maintenance. Despite you both being kitsune, he had you wondering if you were slowly becoming his human caretaker... Not that you would ever mind, that is.

"Mm, that you do..."

Dazai then stretches himself, his body becoming long as he holds the pose with his back arched, his ears flipping back as his tails fluff up, signaling he's fully awake now. He turns to you, those cunning narrowed eyes now slightly half lidded and tender. His voice is low and hoarse.

"But you know what? I also love other things..."

You tilt your head a bit as he stands to his full height, walking towards you and scanning you head to toe with that never ending gaze that oozes with affection. He knows what's going on in that little head of yours, and you almost feel bashful from the way he grants you every bit of his senses. When he reaches you, he places a hand on the top of your head inbetween your soft ears, petting you with feather light taps. He towers over you, his figure now more imposing except without the threatening aura. There could never be threat when it's just you and Dazai, because behind his goofy and easygoing exterior, there is an undying commitment to you that goes beyond life and death. And thankfully, you both will live for a long, long time despite his pesky jokes about the opposite.

He leans forward and then down enough to whisper against the shell of your ear as if he were telling you a secret.

"I love... Curry... Rice... Crab... and-"

You interrupt by looking up at him, eyes twinkling with anticipation. You weren't desperate for his tender words, for he never withheld them from you. He couldn't hide how enamored he was with you even if he tried! There was just something about hearing him say it that made you feel like it was the first time every single time. He curls one of his tails around yours, gently braiding them together as they form a furry stem, locked in place like two hands intertwined. He grins, holding your chin as you two communicate in your own little language with your eyes.

Dazai thinks about how lucky he is to be yours, through thick and thin and the coldest of winter. From the way your lashes flutter every time you blink to how your nose crinkles in the cutest ways when you laugh, he doesn't know why you entertain his mischief. Maybe he's cursed you... Maybe it's a good curse if it means you'll continue to look at him the way you aways do. Either way, you'll both see the Spring come, together.

He brings his hand down to the tip of your nose, so elegant and beautiful, and taps it while whispering.

"You. I love you. So let's go to town, yes? I'm ready to work for my meal or whatever."

You bite your lip at his call back to your previous words, trying to stop the smile from literally getting any wider as you drop the bossy act and melt for him instead. And here you thought his charm was only reserved to fool humans! You nod and when you speak, it's barely above a whisper.

"I love you too."

He leans in so close that his nose touches yours, teasing your every sense.

"I know that, cutie. Duh."

He speaks with a low purr as if stating the obvious, causing you to roll your eyes at his adorable audacity. Only Dazai could get away with this, and only you could make him feel complete this way, no matter what form he takes.

[citrustan]

for what it's worth [2/4] (jjk)

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: angst, fluff (this comes in a bit later), light smut, college student!reader x crush!jungkook

summary: you make an awful revelation about your crush of two years.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: kinda angsty because yaknow unrequited love and stuff like whew i could never

note: im SORRY it took me a year to release this :(

1 - 2 - 3 - 4

Every millisecond of the drive back to campus was torturous. At times, you felt like your throat was closing up. You had to sit on your hand to stop it from cracking a window open.

You think you might’ve experienced your first ever anxiety attack.

All Jungkook’s genuine attempts at holding a conversation with you were shot down mercilessly.

It was almost as if all the admiration you had for him turned into pure hatred for a moment.

Terrified that you would break down in front of the man whom you supposedly creep out, you kept your mouth shut the entire time.

You’re thankful for the timing of the universe. Had you proceeded to confess your feelings to him, you’d have humiliated yourself to death. You’d have had to dig yourself a hole and bury your head in it for a really long time. Or hibernate in the blast chiller like a stupid little snail.

Even if you had a minuscule percentage of a chance with Jungkook, Jia has destroyed it all by telling him about ‘your’ crush.

Although he didn’t seem to have recognised you as the ‘creep’, you can’t help but wonder. What if he knew about you? Maybe he didn’t recognise you without makeup? Maybe he panicked when he realised it was you.

What do you know about Jia really?

After unsuccessfully starting a conversation with you, Jungkook was staring a hole into his phone. He knows he has made you uncomfortable. But, which part of whatever he said did the trick?

He panicked. Jungkook wasn’t supposed to tell you (or anyone) about him and Jia, as per Jia’s desperate request. While he respected it, he wondered why. On pushing her for a legitimate answer, she finally told him about the ‘creep with a schoolgirl crush’ and how she was friends with said ‘creep’ and didn’t want to be in her bad books.

Albeit strange, Jungkook assumed it was dangerous for Jia to be publicly known as his girlfriend. He thought that maybe it’d have put a target on her back.

He didn’t mean to blurt it all out in front of you. It was like his mouth had a mind of its own. He couldn’t stop himself from spilling the beans. And then he made it worse by indirectly calling you a creep. He did take it back, but it must’ve been uncomfortable for you regardless.

And maybe that’s why you won’t respond to his attempts to chat.

He really didn’t want to burden you but he has to let you know--- “You know, it’s a relief to finally tell someone about Jia.”

“Hm?” You abruptly turned your head sideways to face him.

“Jia. It feels good to be able to talk to someone about the girl I’m dating. We never really planned on telling anyone actually.”

‘Yeah, while you’re at that, stick a knife in my chest, why don’t you?’

“I bet it does.” You exhale with a forced smile.

Jungkook turns his body towards you, “_____.” He called out. You instinctively make eye contact with him. “Would it be too much to ask if we could keep this a secret from Jia?”

Before you could process exactly what he asked of you, you involuntarily held your breath at the thought of sharing a secret with him. Just the two of you.

And Jia.

You frown.

The thought of Jia breaks you out of your reverie. You have got to pull yourself together.

Perhaps Jungkook wasn’t too far off with the ‘creep’ thing.   

“Whatever you want.” You immediately look away. Honestly, he probably could’ve gotten you to agree to shave your head if he wanted to.

“Really? It isn’t…?” Jungkook trailed off. “It’s okay. It’ll be as if we never met.” You assure him.

Just how far is your stupid university? It feels like forever since you got into the car with him.

“Except we have met before.” He interjects. You don’t know if he’s referring to your very first meeting at the party or the other times you’ve ‘met’ in the classes you share. Either way, Jia knows about it all.

“We sure have. But she doesn’t have to know that. If that’s what you want.” You add, “I don’t want to cause any problems for you. Just tell me what to do and I won’t question it.” With that you aim your eyes straight ahead, focusing them on the back of the passenger seat.

So much for staying grounded. You have GOT to chill. You’re worried you’ll blow your cover.

Jungkook unexpectedly laughs, “Okay. I don’t want to complicate it too much.”

“Jia doesn’t want people to know about us. And I don’t want to lose her trust. So… maybe---”

Your mouth automatically forms a pout. You really don’t want to witness his devotion to her.

“You know what, I’ll handle it. I’ll talk to her and admit I slipped up...” Jungkook waits for your reaction, but you give him nothing.

Now, you begin to feel badly about the way you’ve been acting towards him. He has done nothing to deserve your hot and cold attitude.

Jungkook has been kind to you. He complimented you, confided in you, gave you his jacket, and offered you a ride. The least you can do is not make stuff so difficult for him.

You remind yourself that your issue is with Jia and not Jungkook.

“If you’re that worried, we don’t have to mention this to her.” You meekly add.

“I was thinking maybe I should just tell her. Wouldn’t that be easier for you too?” Hah! You’d think.

You’re about to counter when the driver interrupts, “Non-faculty vehicles aren’t allowed to go any further than this. Is it okay if I dop you kids off here?”

Neither of you had noticed that you’d reached a few minutes ago. Your driver was kind enough to allow you to resolve your dilemma.

Your dorm was a ten-minute walk from the gate. “This is good.” You kindly smile at him.

The driver eyes you from the rear-view mirror, “This is none of my business but from experience, I can tell you that nothing good ever comes out of secrets and lies. No matter how big or small, shit gets messy.”

You and Jungkook share a look and thank your driver.

“I’ll tell her tomorrow.” He nods once, mostly to himself.

The two of you exit the vehicle together.

Something still bothered you. You swore you had a really great time with Jungkook at the freshmen mixer where you were first introduced to each other. Does he not remember you from then at all?

It’d be embarrassing if he didn’t.

What kills you the most is how you stupidly built your crush up in your head. It was just supposed to be just a fun thing for yourself, but honestly, you’re having trouble standing right now.

“Can I walk you to your room?” Jungkook interrupts your chain of thoughts.

Originally, you planned to run away from him as soon as you reached campus, but curiosity pushes your nervousness away. So, you agree to walk with him.

The first few minutes of your walk are spent in silence. It wasn’t pleasant, it was forced and awkward. Even small talk couldn’t have helped it.

Most of your life was planned. You liked having control over the situations you put yourself in. You like knowing what was going to happen the next day. You liked to organise everything. This tension and feelings of uncertainty threw you way off.

You could not bear not knowing. Still, you manage to keep your cool and fake nonchalance. This is only as big as you make it out to be.

At least now you know you wouldn’t need to buy an extra juice box tomorrow.

You made sure to reassure Jungkook that he wouldn’t get into trouble and that he wouldn’t have to worry about you talking to people about it. But, you could feel the discomfort he basically emitted from his speech to his body language.

Unconvinced that he heard you out, you tell him again. “Just so you know, you don’t have to butter me up or anything. If Jia doesn’t want your news out, so be it. I won’t tell a soul.” Because, that’d be super embarrassing for me as well. But you left that out.

Jungkook visible relaxed, with slouched shoulders and an exhale of relief, he turns to you. “Oh, thank goodness. I was hoping to keep this between us. I know it’s a pussy move, I just don’t want-“

“I already told you, it’s OK.” You abruptly cut him off, impatient because you couldn’t hear him get started on liking and respecting Jia, and disappointing Jia, and protecting Jia, or whatever was going on with the pair.

You were a little hurt when he reacted the way he did. Somewhere, you wanted him to admit he was walking you home because he cared about you or found you inciting enough to spend time with.

Why would he care? You’re actually nobody to him. You’re Jia’s _____.

(And he’s Jia’s Jungkook lol)

You continue, “I genuinely do not care.” A lie.

Jungkook stares at you with big stupid eyes. You almost feel bad for him. You know you’re confusing the fuck out of him with your hot and cold behaviour.

“You know what? I forgot I had to see the course counsellor. That’s like, in the other direction.”

Your sad excuse for an escape was welcomed by Jungkook.

“Oh! My dorm’s the opposite to that… building.” He wanted to get away from you just as much as you him. Well, that doesn’t hurt at all.

:D :D :D

I mean, you were doing the same thing to him but your reason was totally different. So, that doesn’t count.

The two of you stopped in the middle of the cold path. “So, okay.” He started, “I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah! See you!” You faked enthusiasm.

After a two second lag, you both awkwardly shuffle around each other.

“Bye!” You abruptly brisk walk in the direction of your dormitory, the very direction you weren’t supposed to be heading to.

Jungkook stands dumbfounded with his hand midway in the air. In fact, he had no clue you were trying to avoid him. He really meant that his dorm was opposite to the counsellor’s office.

Still, he doesn’t think too much of it.

Jungkook checks his phone to see a few text messages from his girlfriend, asking him about his plans for the week.

He promptly cleared his evenings for Jia and continued walking away from the spot you both stood at.

Later that night, while he FaceTimed her, he kept going back to the moment you greeted him. For some reason, he couldn’t stop thinking about you; as one would after such an awkward interaction.

Jungkook sneakily prods. “Babe, that friend you keep talking about?”

Unsuspectingly, Jia instantly says your name. “_____?”

“Hm…” He affirms.

After a few seconds of silence from Jungkook’s side, Jia irritably bit her inner cheek.

“What about _____?” She pushes.

“Oh, sorry- lost connection. I was saying I met her today.”

“What do you mean? What for?” Jia’s brain starts creating all the scenarios she was afraid would take place.

“We were stranded at the bus stand so we hitched a cab ride together...” Jungkook trails off as if he’s in deep thought.

“Did she do anything to make you uncomfortable?” She asks, worried.

“No, it wasn’t like that. I offered. I think I might’ve made her uncomfortable.”

Now, Jia was impatient, “Can you tell me what happened exactly? What did she say to you?”

Now, Jungkook was a little taken aback.

“Babe. You know I really like you, right?” Jungkook begins.

Jia pouts, “Where is this going?”

“Just…” Jungkook opened his mouth, deliberately delaying the conversation.

“Kook… something happened?” Jia involuntarily rubs up and down her arms.

He blurts, “I may or may not have told her about us. BUT, but-” – “YOU WHAT?”

Jungkook looks at his screen with wide eyes, “But I only let it slip because I thought you told her. She even said she didn’t care enough to tell anyone.”

“Oh? She said that?” Jia’s brows furrowed, both in concern and anger. Jungkook reads her expression and sighs. “She didn’t say it like that.” He repeats.

“No wonder she hasn’t responded to my texts yet. She’s supposed to fucking proofread my assignment for tomorrow. I’m so screwed.” Jia exasperates. Jungkook tilts his head. Has he really messed up? “I’m sorry, baby. Is it so bad I told her? What’s wrong with her knowing?”

Jia shook her head.

“Jungkook, GOD I wish you were with me. I’m so tense I think I need to be fucked so I can forget this ever happened.”

Jungkook smirked, “Well… I don’t have to be physically present with you to make you lose your mind.”

Jia’s mouth drops open a little. She thinks she might just start drooling at the sound of his voice.

“Now where is that Bluetooth controlled-” – “It’s already on me.” She blurts, knowing exactly what he’s about to do to her.

“Oh? Wow, my girl is so naughty. Is this what you wanted from me tonight?”

And, then you were long forgotten.

Well, until later that same night.

Before dozing off, he spent the remaining of his day replaying what had happened. He thought about the way your mood dropped after getting into the taxi and the way your eyes wandered everywhere but to him. He doesn’t know if you realised it, but you muttered a lot of words under your breath. Some of them being loud enough for him to hear.

Jungkook’s thoughts were zeroed in on you.

His mind went in and out of so many black holes, that he even thought of the possibility of you being what Jia tried to shield their relationship from. Even though they were all afterthoughts, one thing was for sure. You had caught his attention.

[melancholicstation]

SWF-ISH BOYFRIEND!BOBBY KENNEDY HC'S 🍸

came out of writing hibernation who cheered and clapped

♪ ethel cain covering britney spears — everytime ♪

walks on the street side every time y’all step out of the house

mans constantly has his hands in your hair: in the grocery, at parties with his family, at home… ANYWHERE & EVERYWHERE.

his love language would be weekly gifts from the best nightwear boutiques in massachusetts: cotton singlets, cashmere booty shorts etc etc.

would deliver snacking plates of: french cheeses, maraschino cherries and stripes of smokey turkey bacon if his s/o had been studying for mid-terms and had forgotten to eat. ( i know a 1960s female college student is unrealistic let me YEARN for bobby in a historically-inaccurate way )

is incredibly bumbling when first flirting with you, but begins to get concerningly sauve once he’s been your boyfriend for a while…

deeply insecure of his attractiveness and highkey paranoid of you leaving him for his older brothers ( jfk im sooo drunk )

gets embarrassingly drunk of honeysuckle wheat beer to the point where you have to get his driver to help you get him into the car.

wears his boxers to the point where there are definitive HOLES ( disgusting i’m sorryyy )

loves to have his hair washed & brushed by his lover unresolved mother kink from rose’s questionable parenting of the kennedy boys

has an oral fixation with his cigar and crashes out if he can’t have one when he wants one

likes to get his freak on in his old harvard football uniform

is a gentle man in the boudoir

cannot sit still on a plane and is always pawing at you to entertain him when you just want to sleep and relax in first class 🙏🏻

doesn’t normally drink but when he does BOY does he drink

likes to ( lovingly ) bite you anywhere ( in a challengers art and tashi way from that one scene )

packs the sourdough you make for him each day to take into the attorney general office

always takes the side of his women in her friend squabbles

likes to hand feed his woman ( like actually PLACES food in your mouth )

eats downnn a fry and steak combo at a diner

romantic medieval devotion

buys greek poetry for you guys to read together over a glass bottle of wine

wine drunk s*x with bobby oh okay…

hot take but he is very vocal in the bedroom wait who said that!!

applies gentle domestic dominance to everyday activities

unflinching eye contact

a MUNCH by all definition of the word

rehearses his speeches to you and gets bashful when you give his positive feedback

always the first to apologise

obsessed with you being his wife

huge purity complex for HIMSELF

degradation kink well now who said that

afflicted by a breeding k*nk

aching ambition to achieve a family with you

subtly likes when you stand up for him in front of his father ( or other family members )

would want to nap in your ribcage if he could

will always share food with you whenever you would go out together

[skele-bunny]

Anything Swissalps please!!

Rubs my grimey little hands together

(obligatory tag for @hypnoneghoul !)

Mountain doesn't really like the caterpillars and worms on his plants in the room, but knows they're very much needed. He's started to get used to them more bc Swiss names them and it's kinda their thing.

"Martin is fuckin' chowing down on this vera right now..."

"I thought Martin eats the peonies?"

"No that's his twin brother Jake."

"Oh.."

Speaking of the plants!!! Swiss is VERY accustomed to them. His stand in Mountain when they aren't there. Always super reactive and love Swiss so so so much. They love holding him, helping him with tasks in the room, and just making sure he's okay. Swiss used them for... Self pleasuring reasons and literally only a minute in before Mountain stumbled in with the biggest hard on ever. He then learned that day that, yes, Mountain can feel and know everything the vines are doing/receiving.

Mountain who courts Swiss with wreaths and bones, flowers delicately picked and meaningful, and even down to foraging for him. Swiss who doesn't know how to court besides quintessence, but it just doesn't feel right. So he does what he does best!! Makes a song for Mountain!! It's kinda an air/water thing, but it's so specifically him that it doesn't really need an elemental label.

I'm sharing part of my hibernation Mountain propaganda and y'all are dealing with it. Mountain is GONE during the winter and Swiss is his hibernation mate even tho he doesn't really sleep like Mounty does. Lottt of grooming, breeding, and feeding as Mountain is running purely on instincts and can't really form coherent thoughts outside of those instincts. He just knows "my mate needs to eat." "my mate doesn't smell like me and I need to fix that internally and externally." Swiss doesn't mind it as he's still able to get up and move around, sometimes leave the room for quick trips to the kitchen and back. Swiss usually curls up on Mountain's torso and he's held sooo tenderly by this big furry beast. He LOVES it.

Mountain wears glasses but he loses them a LOT. Swiss always has an extra pair on him just in case which has come in handy multiple times. Swiss always demands them back once Mountain is done using them. "I'm not letting you lose the only backup pair you have, dork."

Big boy is embarrassed about wanting to be topped, but ohhh Swiss knows. He knows. Loves putting Mountain in the most submissive positions like doggy, missionary, or a mating press, but fuck does Mountain love it. He loves feeling smaller for once, loves watching his yin on top of him just whispering the most embarrassing things you could ever think of.

I've talked about Mistress Judas a few times, Swiss' bdsm persona, but... With Mountain? Ohh at her feet for anything she says. She makes him feel stupid. Weak. Lower. Small. It's what he wants and needs, and she's more than happy to provide. Big on breath play, boot play, and her whip. Best aftercare in the world, and Mountain wouldn't have it any different as he's massaged and given such tender kisses, words, and affections.

Mountain who sees Swiss as his art form—as art itself. As yin and yang. As everything right in the world. Something something, he's so dumb in love he can't think and just writes all of his love frustration on paper and hands it to Swiss who keeps them safe in a folder he reads through a lot.

Something something they're so in love it's sickening.