#that's more what i prefer to do than what i really do

[endursent]

My Partner Turned Into A Cat And I Don't Know How To Fix It (2)

【 content; established relationship , fluff , humour , slight shenanigans , gn!reader 】

【 characters; alhaitham , arataki itto , baizhu , cyno , dainsleif , diluc , kaedehara kazuha , kaeya , kamisato ayato , kaveh , neuvillette , tartaglia , thoma , venti , wanderer , wriothesley , xiao , zhongli 】

【 premise; " Your partner has been struck with a curse of some sort which has turned him into a cat, you have no idea how to fix it nor how long it might take. Yet you also cannot help but be rather amused by the situation despite the uncertainty…" 】

【 note; made the genshin version... no reason for this to be like 19 pages 😭 】

【 word count; 8.723 | read on ao3 | hsr version】

Alhaitham ;

Kaveh gaped at you when you brought a cat into the house, one that… looked eerily similar to a certain blockhead. “I can explain,” you say as you set the cat down on the floor, he doesn’t enter the house further than you do, instead sitting down by your feet and observing the interaction with… interest? Amusement…? 

  Kaveh didn’t need much to be convinced, and immediately he thanked the Archons for giving him a few days of respite. Even just a few days of Alhaitham being unable to comment on what he does or nag him is a blessing.

  For you, it’s a bit of a hassle… because he keeps disappearing! Not in an alarming way, because you find him again in the most secluded, quiet spots you would never even think of. Under your laundry, in an empty box that Kaveh hadn’t put away after getting a delivery, and even under the desk in the study—Kaveh accidentally kicked him and got a feisty scratch on his ankle. He learned his lesson. 

  He follows you around and—though he let you pick him up the first time—doesn’t let you carry him around, preferring to walk on his own… and wander off to explore nooks and crannies he has never been able to see, but he always shows up again before you reach your destination. 

  He has also claimed your pillow as his own and refuses to let you use it, loafing on top of it exactly when you thought you could get there before him. Which… in hindsight is fine, you’re not opposed to using his pillow, it smells like him after all. 

  You decided to test how much of a cat he really is, whether it’s appearance alone or instinctual as well and bought a cat toy with a whisker on the end as well as a small bell below it. You expected him to perk up and try to whack or catch it as soon as you wriggled it beside him… but his grey furred ears just lowered in annoyance and he hopped off the kitchen counter, it seems like having even more sensitive ears in this state makes his dislike for uncomfortable noises more intense. 

  He forgave you when you spent ten minutes scratching the itchy spot behind his ears after tracking him down. A small, rumbling purr left his chest as you moved your hand to scratch under his chin—he was, however, more curious about this instinctual reaction and demanded you continue after you drew your hand back.     Despite it being very much an unspoken rule between the two of you that neither of you should be disturbed ‘needlessly’ when reading or working at home, when you borrowed a few books from the Akademiya to try and figure out how to turn your partner back to normal, Alhaitham decided it would be very reasonable for him to lay down over your book… which you are very much trying to read.

  But when you ask him what he needs, he just blinks at you three times, very slowly. You’ll likely never be able to crack that brain of his, even in a form that is somehow far more expressive.

Arataki Itto ;

It’s difficult enough to keep track of him—and keep him out of trouble—on a normal day… now? You took your eyes off him for a second, and he’s gone. Shinobu split up with you to cover more ground while the rest of the gang scoured the streets of Inazuma City, at least as much as they could.

  You peek between baskets, crates and stalls, walk through tight alleys and even squint into a few windows… nothing!

  You had been very close to giving up and returning back to the meeting point by the bridge… until you heard a very distressed, very loud meowing. Following the sound, you come to a tree stretching over the gardens of a teahouse. What looks to be the owner of it stands below the tree with a basket, trying to ask Itto—stuck up on a wobbling branch—to jump into it.

  Exasperation is one way to describe what you feel as you approach the old lady, you put your hands on your hips and Itto notices you immediately. His meowing turns from frantic and panicked… to a sheepish pleading. Every movement he makes causes the branch to sway and wobble, and it looks like it could easily bend and break—and you don’t want to cause any trouble for the teahouse owner. “Itto, come on, hop down.”

  He meows and shakes his head, white fur swishing dramatically. 

  A sigh leaves you as you step closer and hold your arms open. “I’ll catch you, trust me,” you encourage him… and he finally relents, with wobbling paws, he leaps from the branch—fur shining in the sun as he practically flies in the air towards your open arms… and lands on your head. He panics and tries to adjust and not fall off, and you try to pry him away from your face as his belly nearly suffocates you—it’s a scene from a comedic play.

  Shinobu is glad for her mask, because when you return with Itto under your arm you have scratches on your face and forehead, and Itto is whining and meowing sorrowfully. 

  He spends the entire evening licking your ‘wounds’, dragging his coarse cat tongue over every spot so often that the licking starts to become more painful than the scratches themselves. But you let him, it makes him feel much better than you—and you don’t particularly need comfort, but if he doesn’t get it, he will whine all night. 

  So you let him knead your thighs and stomach even as his claws prick through your clothes and you make sure to pet him and stroke his fur when he snuggles against you… and then you wake up in the middle of the night, suffocating with his furred belly against your face when the lies on top of you.

Baizhu ;

You’re very happy that Baizhu is catching a break—something you often try to convince him to do—despite the strange way of being forced into it… however, it’s very difficult to focus on running the pharmacy in his place by yourself while also trying to make sure he doesn’t roll off the shelf he’s napping on… especially because Changsheng wriggles in her sleep and keeps nudging him closer to the edge.

  You decide it’s easier if you have them sleeping on separate surfaces and reach up to pick up your pliant partner-turned-cat. He effectively falls into your arms and blinks lazily, slightly confused by the sudden transport. “Just moving you so you don’t hit your head,” you dodge around Qiqi as she runs past you with an armful of jars and set Baizhu down on the counter, his tail sways lazily and he immediately flops on his side as a beam of sunlight sneaks through the window and directly onto his fur.

  Every time a customer comes by—with approval—they give Baizhu a small pet or scratch before leaving, as if paying tribute to the good doctor. He doesn’t seem to mind.

  Unfortunately, you’re not fit to take Baizhu’s place for consultations, and thus they all get delayed—which was a hell of a lot of work to contact everyone and change scheduling—until Baizhu is back to normal. The usual hours of consultation in the morning are therefore replaced with longer opening hours of the pharmacy and by pulling some strings, an increased stock of rarer products at a discounted price. 

  Changsheng does not let poor Baizhu catch a break, she wiggles her tail and swipes it in front of his paws, and unable to control the feline instincts harbouring his body—Baizhu chases after her tail like a kitten playing with a toy. He whacks at it and tries to capture it, but the white snake is far quicker than even you expected her to be as a sudden game of cat and mouse (snake) takes over your living room.

 The feline form, however, doesn’t come with free stamina—and Baizhu is not in good shape. He flops down on the carpet, exhausted from the play even as only seven minutes have passed. You feel a bit bad and scoop him up for some cuddling, which seems to be just the remedy he needed. 

  Baizhu is very careful around the clinic, he doesn’t knock anything over—even though he REALLY wants to sometimes, and is mindful of not getting fur or saliva on anything that could potentially be consumed by anyone with allergies. Changsheng has taken to wrapping herself around your shoulders instead, and though you’re used to her, it’s a little annoying to get a comment on every little thing you do. 

  But at the end of the day, Baizhu curls up next to you and you wake with him lying over your chest, belly to the skies and paws in the air, comfortable and content. Though you will always prefer him in his normal state, he is very cute like this.

Cyno ;

You look around the large front hall of the House of Daena, panting slightly as you try to catch your breath… that damn Cyno! Making you chase him across the entire city! 

  You spot some pawprints and squint as you look around… he’s not bringing all that dirt into the house—you were just going to rinse him a bit, but he’s run off! You finally spot dark and creamy coloured fur… perched up high on a massive decorative piece of the wall. He looks down at you with a swaying tail, completely at ease knowing that you won’t be able to catch him all the way up there.

  You almost consider inquiring about one of those massive ladders the library has to reach the high shelves, it might be long enough…

  But very well, he wins this round. 

  Once he turned into a cat, you were very excited about petting him, rubbing his ears and stroking his tail—but he’s not having any of it. Sometimes, you wonder if someone stuck a firework in his ass and lit it up, because the bouts of zoomies he gets is so frequent you wondered if there was something wrong—but you couldn’t catch him to take to a vet either! 

  After the first few days, Cyno seems to calm down… a little. He still prefers to survey the area (your living room) from above (your bookshelf) and watch you go about your day. It’s quite cute how his perked ears twitch every time you make a noise, as if he’s completely focused on what you’re doing.

  You soon find out after stepping a bit too close to the bookshelf that he might have just been waiting to strike, because he leaps onto your head as soon as you’re in range. 

  The only reason you know he’s fully conscious in that furred head is because while you were cleaning up after dinner, you spotted him sitting next to a cup of tea that was half-filled. You tense as you watch his paw raise to knock it off. “Cyno! Don’t,” you try to sound scolding.

  He looks up at you, he lowers his paw… then raises it again, making you glare at him. He lowers it again, turns away… you turn back to wiping the dishes and look over your shoulders after a few seconds—his paw is raised again!

  This back and forth continued until he finally knocked it over.

  And then he has the audacity during the next day’s dinner to sound like he has never been fed in his life while you’re trying to eat in peace. Meowing at you so loudly one would think he was terribly injured, eyes wide and mouth open. You hope your neighbours don’t think you’re trying to starve him, or treat him horribly.

Dainsleif ;

He’s not happy about it, he has things to do—places to be and investigations to make. Thankfully you’re familiar with where you were going next… but Dainsleif is very limited in what he can do. You decide to give him the task of scouting and sneaking around, something he’s used to doing anyway… but he finds that it’s much more effective to do so as a cat. His footsteps are completely silent and his senses are much sharper.

  Though, he had an instinctual need to swat at a glowing orb that you found in a strange vault half-buried in a cave in Fontaine before he could stop himself—which closed the two of you inside the vault. Thankfully he is now small enough that he could slip out between the bars and unlock it from the other side.

  It is quite cute how his ears flattened as you walked out, as if he was sorry. Though he seemed okay after you scratched behind his ears and assured him it was okay, he was here to help you out after all! His tail swayed in satisfaction to your assurance.

  You start to set down camp for the night, having just one pair of hands makes it a bit more of a lengthy process, and Dainsleif can only sit and watch as you put it together. He’s usually quite distant, even in a relationship—but as you straighten from squatting to fit something down, you feel something press against your leg and see him rubbing his furry cheek against you, then walking around your legs, tail trailing behind.

  He’s usually quite wary and alert, even during the night when you try and convince him to sleep—and it’s no different now. He sits poised and ready… for what? He’s a cat. But you appreciate the effort. 

  Surprisingly, he’s very active at grooming himself, the two of you usually have to bathe often anyway as you frequent dusty caves and muddy backwaters, but every time you make a stop, he sits down and starts licking his fur—at first you wondered if he was frustrated by something or had hurt himself, but as you picked him up to examine for any injuries or strange patches, he just blinked at you, tongue still half-hanging out.

  Dainsleif is rather laid-back when it comes to your relationship, there are times where you want to stay in a larger city for a few days or weeks in between travels, to have a soft bed and four walls around you—which Dainsleif doesn’t mind, there are places he wants to look into where he’d prefer you are safe elsewhere. He knows where you will be and will stop by to ask if you’re ready to continue days or even sometimes a few weeks later, to which you—recharged and rejuvenated—jump at the chance to follow him out of the city.

  But now, as a cat, he doesn’t leave your side for a minute—not even when you need to use nature’s bathroom. You went into a small village in Sumeru when passing through and a vendor was particularly pressing about selling you some type of perfume that you had shown brief interest in—Dainsleif had enough of you being pestered and whacked his paw at the man’s leg, hissing. He would usually be more subtle about guiding you away, but he doesn’t have the presence he usually does as he is now, so he must utilise the aggressiveness given to him in feline form. You take the chance to scoop him up and hurry away before the vendor can get upset, petting between his ears and thanking him for the help—he rubs his cheek against yours. He’s surprisingly more affectionate like this as well.

Diluc ;

Your nose itches… you try to hold back—achoo!!

  Diluc jumps, claws scuttling against the ground and he leaps from his resting spot and hops down to the floor. You sniffle and shake your head. “Sorry, it’s not your fault,” you stand from his chair and round the table to squat down next to him, reaching a hand out. “Did I startle you?”

  He makes a ‘hmph’ sound, fur red as freshly bloomed roses. Diluc bumps his snout into your palm and huffs into it, you turn your hand and pet along his back. “Aaah… you’re so cute~ so soft,” you near coo as you scratch behind his ears—

  Diluc shakes himself and ducks under your hand to walk past you—how dare you baby-talk him?! He’s not an actual cat! The scritches felt too nice, and his ears flicked when you cooed at him—it’s embarrassing…

  He sits down by the door, tail swaying lazily as a small meow leaves him. Let me out. 

  You pout, how can you not convey how cute he is? You want to rub his cheeks. But fine, you  walk over and open the door for him to slip out of. 

  Diluc likes the lounge around the fireplace in the estate, there’s not much work he can do  while you try to figure out how to turn him back—preferably without alerting his brother or any of the knights… or just anyone in general. Unfortunately, he can’t hide it from the staff of the Winery as he is a spitting image of himself in cat form, and you’ve caught more than three people trying to feed him expensive cheeses. 

  It’s only in the recent days that you’ve convinced him to settle down and use the time to rest and nap as much as he can, but Diluc was extremely restless at first, you had to trap him inside a room and trick him into lying down with you.

  One day, Jean came by looking for him, and you had to think fast to come up with an excuse while he had just leapt under the sofa to hide. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to need him urgently, so she just left a message behind and went back to her day.

  You fell asleep in Diluc’s study, trying to keep up with his paperwork—Adeline offered to help you, she’s very familiar with his work, and it’s not like it’s been a long time since he wasn’t there to do it… but you wanted to help, and as the sun sank below the horizon, you laid down on the sofa in his study next to a tall bookcase—only closing your eyes was enough to pull you into deep sleep.

  Diluc hops onto the sofa next to you, he carefully walks over your thighs and settles on the armrest where your head is. His fluffy tail sways and strokes your chin and nose—nearly waking you as you almost sneeze, you don’t have to work so hard for him, he knows you want to help. He wishes he could tell you, and he will, when he’s back to normal. For now, he rests alongside you, head leaning against the top of yours and tail tucked against your neck.

Kaedehara Kazuha ;

Kazuha is a very chill cat, he doesn’t get into trouble, he doesn’t cough hairballs on the floor and he doesn’t knock things over.

  (Instead of coughing hairballs on the floor he swats them off-deck with his paws, Beidou caught him doing it once).

  There’s not much trouble to get into on the ocean, and he’s rather good at keeping out of trouble overall on land, sticking by his side is a sureway to a boring day of exploration or lounging around—which is your perfect type of day.

  You help him into your bag as the Crux ‘boards’ by Liyue Harbour (it stops a bit away and tucked by a cliffside to avoid attention) and you make sure he doesn’t accidentally fall into the ocean as a few crewmates row to land. You’re stopping for a few days, so you make sure to use the time to relax and take in landside air and wander around the expansive Harbour. 

  Kazuha likes to take life at a slower pace, and thus your walk to the Harbour took longer than you expected… as you thought Kazuha was doing his normal meditation on a warm, sun-kissed rock along the road…

  But he was asleep, sitting up and enjoying the sun. It took you thirty minutes to realise—a sitting cat with its eyes closed and a sleeping cat in a sitting position is the exact same.

  He very much likes to people-watch, but in this cat form, he seems even more engaged—he can hear sounds more clearly and he seems even more perceptive than usual. Watching a tea maker brew a cup on a teahouse table you had sat by to rest and ordered some snacks. He sniffs at the tea as it’s placed in front of you—he’s perched comfortably on your lap, you’re surprised the teahouse even allows him inside—and seems to appreciate the detail he gets from this new perspective, af if it smells different in this form.

  He tries to taste it and your food, but you have to block his snout with your hand, you’re not sure if the food you were having would give him a stomach ache or not. 

On a walk on the outskirts of the city, you look back and see Kazuha carrying a stick in his mouth…?

  He’s not a dog, so you’re not entirely sure why he’s doing it, maybe cats do that too? The dogs that hang around the bridge leading to the southeast outside of Liyue Harbour try to approach him with the stick, thinking he was playing, but he hops into a tree to keep it to himself. You’re not entirely sure what’s happening, but he seems to be having fun.

  Kazuha wanders off oftentimes, just in his normal, usual body… so you’re not sure why you’re surprised when you suddenly find him missing from your side—perhaps it’s because he’s a cat and you’re unsure if he can defend himself as well in that form, but you hurry to look for him.

  You practically run in circles until you find him pressing his paw to a brown, crusty leaf… again and again, as if listening to the crunch of it in a rhythm. You sigh and scoop him up into your arms. “Don’t wander off like this,” you scold and poke his nose. Kazuha sneezes from the poke, but blinks up at you and nods his little furry head.

Kaeya ;

Unbothered, in his element. Kaeya sleeps in your windowsill and bathes in the sunlight all day while you scratch your head over how this could’ve happened. You try to leave for work and he practically screeches at the door, likely pleading you not to leave—he does that normally as well, except without the loud meowing. 

  Kaeya finds appreciation in the flexibility and grace that comes with this new body, he easily leaps up on shelves and dives under the sofa, he chases flakes of dust and seems to be having quite a good time—perhaps it’s because he has no responsibilities in this form, he can’t go to work like this and has no control over it. And the loss of control is strangely freeing. 

  You scoop him up into your arms and his tail swishes happily, he grabs his claws into your shirt and purrs as you rub his ears, happy and content with the additional affection. He loves all affection he gets from you no matter what form it takes, and being a cat has given him the opportunity to be pampered in ways he never could experience as a human. 

  He does need his free time as well and he uses it well while you’re out of the house—though you were very optimistic to think that closing the windows would keep him contained, Kaeya easily flips the handles and slips out of your home. He enjoys the attention he gets from any passersby, but is careful not to be too affectionate and get picked up by someone who thinks he’s a stray. 

  His usual guarded front lowers in this form, he feels like he could slip out of any situation—and he doesn’t have to be careful with his words or actions. No one expects a cat to have alternative intentions. 

  He jumps up in surprise as he hears footsteps rapidly approaching—he had fallen asleep on a ledge and the sun was already down. Kaeya blinks as you pick him up, breath heaving. “There you are, I’ve looked everywhere for you! I thought something happened when I couldn’t find you around the plaza,” you sigh a breath of relief and practically crush him to your chest. Kaeya wriggles a little but gives up and nuzzles into you, pushing his forehead into your cheek. 

  After a number of days, Kaeya gets bored, as fun as lounging around and being pampered it… he misses real food, and dragging you away from your work to have lunch—and holding you properly, he can only lay on top of you like this, which doesn’t exactly feel like holding.

  And Kaeya being restless… he gets whiny. 

  He would usually be more subtle, but now that he feels the rush of freedom his feline form gives him, he uses it to protest by loafing on your clothes after you fold them to put away, laying over your lap when you need to get up—even though he’s not really a cat… kind of, you still get the same feeling of not wanting to move him off no matter how much space he’s taking.

  But that’s okay, because he just has to slow blink at you and nuzzle into your hand and you forgive him, how could you not?

Kamisato Ayato ;

Ayato is an unreasonably pretty cat. His fur is soft and silky, he has this… smug kitty-smile at all times, and it makes you want to pinch his ears. He sits on your lap and peeks onto the low table inside his study as you go through paperwork. Just because he’s become a cat doesn’t mean his workload just miraculously lessens. 

  Thankfully, after a few days of trying to juggle his work—how does he do it?!—even with him by your side, albeit in a form that can’t properly communicate… Ayaka decides to lend a hand, she takes it upon herself to attend meetings and represent the clan and Commission in Ayato’s stead. Thankfully no one has questioned where he is yet.

  Or why there is a suspiciously similar cat trotting around the estate in his place. 

  You fish into a bush in the courtyard gardens, hand feeling around—until you find fur and yoink it up. Ayato blinks at you, tail swishing as he has a piece of grilled fish in his mouth that he stole from the kitchens. “You know… you can have all the fish you want—you don’t have to steal it,” you say as you lift him into your arms.

  His ears flick as you talk, but he eats the fish happily regardless. You shake your head in mild exasperation. Looks like he’s using the opportunity to engage in… more mischief than usual. Perhaps a different kind. 

  Ayato likes to use his newfound stealth and agility to his advantage… to torment you.

  You put away some laundry and turned to a shelf to fetch something—only to come face to face with Ayato’s cat-face, making you jump as he meows happily—as if happy to see you! He knows he’s just trying to startle you!

  He winds around your feet when you walk around the estate and purrs happily when you squint at him.

  Ayato knows the limits, he stops before you can lock him inside a room for the remainder of the day. His fur is so soft as you pet him and a rumbling purr leaves him, he knows it’s silly—he’s not really a cat, at least, hopefully not for long. But you keep petting and stroking him while he does. 

  He takes good care of himself on normal days, and as a cat, it’s no different—he grooms himself meticulously, though finds it rather embarrassing if you’re looking, so he tries to do it out of sight… it's very instinctual, but he also likes to feel clean and groomed. 

  You once passed the great hall and saw Thoma wriggling a toy with a bundle of feathers on it while Ayato chased it… it was pretty cute to watch, but you hurried along before either of them could notice you. 

  He hogs the futon, you don’t want to push him to the side and get pushed to the edge of the mattress yourself. Ayato doesn’t even realise he’s doing it. 

Kaveh ;

Distressed, not having fun, he wants to go home.

  A series of meows in varying states of distress and confusion follow behind you as you walk, you stop and turn around, peering down at the strange cat that’s been following you around since you left the Akademiya. You were about to ask what he wants… but as you squint at the cat… doesn’t it look familiar?

  Kaveh doesn’t stop when you do, he raises on his hind legs by your feet and sinks his claws into your pants, a shrill, distressed meow leaves him.

  You reach down and pick him up, holding under his front legs as you inspect him… hm, golden fur with tints of a darker, sandy brown… those big red eyes.

  “... Kaveh?” you must be crazy, there’s no way your partner is a cat, and followed you around without you realising, but you know those eyes very well. It’s him.

  Alhaitham just stares at you like you grew three additional heads, he looks at Kaveh in your arms and then back at you. “... it looks like him, but that’s not proof enough—have you asked him to write his name?”

  You look at Kaveh and he tilts his small head to look up at you. Write his name…? He doesn’t exactly have thumbs… but Alhaitham has a good point. What if it’s just a very persistent cat? 

  Then again… where would Kaveh be? He’s usually home by this time.

  Alhaitham fetches a pen and some parchment and you put Kaveh down on the table. He tries to use his paws at first but just spills ink all over the place—but as he grabs the pen with his mouth and clumsily scribbles his signature, Alhaitham just hums while you scoop Kaveh up again, holding him up. “It is you! What happened to you, Kaveh?”

  Of course, he can’t give a proper answer, he wriggles his paws around and meows in a long dialogue—but it’s entirely incomprehensible. 

  While you and Alhaitham try to figure out how to get him back, Kaveh tries to adjust to his… predicament. He doesn’t do it with any grace, though… his leaps and jumps across furniture are miscalculated and he falls to the ground or hits his head more often than you can count.

  But your worried petting and rubbing the aching area makes him purr and nuzzle into your arms.

  He does hate the heightened senses, he jumps at the smallest noise and scuttles across the room if anything startles him—and he gets startled very easily like this.

Neuvillette ;

You call his name, looking around his office… you scratch your head, he can’t have gone far, you just left to fetch some tea for a few minutes. It’s not like he can open the door or window and slip out—why would he anyway?

  You hear a very… pathetic meow, from next to you—but there’s nothing there, just a sofa. You hear it again—under the sofa…?

  Ducking down, you see that Neuvillette is stuck, he seems to have been trying to squeeze himself under the sofa, and rounding the furniture, you see his hind legs and tail flat on the floor… it’s a bit amusing. “There, I got you,” you say soothingly as you lift the sofa up a little so he can back out. Neuvillette stands up and shakes his body.

  You squat down and smile. “How’d you get stuck under there?” you hold out your hand and he presses his head into your palm, nuzzling against your skin for comfort as you turn your hand to scratch and pet him.

  He’s not very good at resisting the instincts and temptations that come with this form—you’re unsure why he seems to struggle so much, but you try to help him as much as you can, and not laugh.

  You saw him chase a shadow, there is an ornament on the raised blinds that hang above the large window in his office. It's attached to the strings that lower and raise them and it sways slightly—casting a shadow across the floor.

  Another time he was grooming his fur and struggling, he has a thick, long coat and had to lean far back to reach the end of his fur as his tongue dragged along the hairs… causing him to roll backwards off the arm of the couch and into the pile of pillows.

  Innocent, small things that make you smile, but you’re careful that he doesn’t see it.

  He loafs over a stack of court documents as you organise his desk—might as well use the opportunity to clean up while he won’t be making a mess. He doesn’t seem satisfied with his place on the desk and stands… and spots a box on the ground, it’s stacked halfway with old documents to be taken to storage… but it also looks like the perfect spot to rest. He hops down from the desk and circles a few times on the papers to get comfortable. He wriggles a little before sitting down.

  It takes him a minute to realise that he was kneading into the paper when he hears the sound of it tearing under his claws in an instinctual need to make the bottom of the box comfortable. 

  Safe to say, he was mortified to have destroyed the top four documents, but thankfully they weren’t shredded and you managed to salvage them with some memory of what had occurred as well as piecing them together.

Tartaglia ;

You look towards the window above the kitchen counter, cold air brushes into the house as Childe enters through it—with a mouse in his mouth.

  You leap up and push the book in your hand against his face and push him straight back outside. “No! Absolutely not! Leave it outside, not in the house!!” You close the window behind him and sigh in relief, brushing stray snow into the sink. When you look up again, He’s sitting there, big eyes and ears flat against his head… but no mouse.

  Sighing, you open the window a smidge so that he can step inside, where he shakes himself and tosses flakes of melting snow all over. 

  Childe sits down, tail swaying—as if waiting for something.

  You set your haps on your hips. “What?”

  “Mrrow…” he wriggles his head, he wants a pat. 

  … fine, just because he took the mouse outside because you ‘asked’, you raise your hand to stroke his head and he tilts it to lick your palm—but you pull back. “No, you just had a wild animal in your mouth, wash your mouth!”

  What is this?? He feels like a criminal, all he did was bring you a prize… to be fair, he realised how silly it was to bring you a dead animal when you leapt up to push him back out, but it felt completely natural up until that point!

  He whines and meows for forgiveness for the rest of the night, and you do eventually ‘forgive’ him and let Chile lounge around on your lap while you pet him and continue reading.

�� He picks fights with swaying curtains, chases your broom when you’re cleaning and even whacked your cup of coffee off the dinner table—spilling it everywhere. He’s a nightmare in this form, because no matter the scolding, he just stares at you with excited, large eyes and a swaying tail.

  Nothing you say gets through his head. In one ear and out the other. 

  He does not give up either, if he wants affection, he will get it one way or the other, even if he has to whine and meow endlessly, follow you around—fake a limp! You shake him a bit after he worried you and you almost went out in the middle of the evening through the snow to take him to a vet when he just wanted scritches. 

  In all fairness… this is just typical behaviour, but now he has the kitten eyes to break your self control and composure within seconds. 

Thoma ;

He tries to do his job even in cat form, using his tail to sweep, he even takes his duster into his mouth and tries to sweep on surfaces he’d usually need ladders to reach, and now he can just leap to them.

  But he also has a problem…

  He has an instinctual need to create a mess, knock things over or sit on things—when he catches himself in an act of pushing Ayaka’s discarded tea off a table, he nearly leaps away to stop himself. 

  Thankfully, everyone around him doesn't mind—and it’s a bit relieving to see that Thoma retains a sense of himself. He finds time where he would usually go into town to instead nap—and the Kamisato estate has perfect napping spots. He lies sprawled across the engawa surrounding the eastern part of the estate near the back gardens, and lets the warm beams of the sun warm his belly—only to shoot up in surprise when he hears footsteps, embarrassed to be caught lounging around. 

  Ayato sometimes plucks him away to keep on his lap for hours while he sorts through paperwork, petting and scratching behind his ears while his other hand signs documents. Thoma gets a bit restless just loafing on his lord’s lap and meows in relief when you come along to fetch him. 

  Ayaka leapt at the opportunity to sew a few accessories for him, guised under the excuse of “practise for smaller bodies” and Thoma ends up with half a wardrobe by the end of the week. 

  But he prefers to be around you, you don’t trap him on your lap (even though Ayato gives very good scritches) or make him model for three hours (even though Ayaka gave him snacks). As you work around the estate, he gets tired—curse this cat body and it’s perpetual need for napping!—and you tuck him gently into your eri*. Thoma lays nestled against your chest warmly, his body light and still as you continue your work. 

  The gardens of the Kamisato estate is a disaster zone, and after the first few days, thoma knows to avoid it. 

  He had strolled past, early in his transformation—and been startled by his own reflection in the pond he passed by, the fish swimming away in a hurry as he ran across the gardens in surprise. A second time, he had spent twelve minutes chasing a butterfly while Ayato watched with a signature smile… he will likely not let him forget it. 

  Thankfully, he’s not needed much in the gardens, and he sits perched atop a high shelf in the kitchens, his tail sways as he leans forward… very much ready to leap and steal some food—before you pluck him up and raise an eyebrow.

  His ears flatten in realisation, but you rub his cheeks and tuck him back into your clothes—grabbing some leftover pears from the dessert the kitchens were making, letting him munch on it while you get back to work. 

Venti  ;

You didn’t think Venti could become even more of an airhead on a typical day as he does when he becomes a cat. He gets distracted by the smallest things and wanders off—leading to a wild goose chase where you have to ask around for a small darkly coloured cat with blue highlights on its ears and tail—a very distinct cat!—and being pointed in every direction possible.

  Only to discover him napping in a crate full of apples in an alley you walked past at least six times just in the last fifteen minutes. 

  He is also very vocal, Venti says anything that comes to his mind… which is unfortunately nothing but meowing nonsense to your ears, but you nod along as if you understand, having a halfway conversation with the lively cat. 

  Somehow, he very much likes to play and nap like he’s being paid to do it at the same time. In one moment, he’s swatting at your clothes and trying to get to play with your fingers—which he accidentally bites and scratches in his excitement, quickly rectifying it with some licks and nuzzles—and the next, he’s passed out cold in a box or on a shelf for five hours.

  He doesn’t seem embarrassed by these new catlike instincts, such as the need to groom himself—he even starts grooming you halfway through his coat, you’re sure your skin is very much clean by the time he finally turns back to himself. 

  Unlike normal cats, who move and settle down elsewhere when the person under them gets up… Venti is not happy about being disturbed nor that you’re trying to get up, he whines and kneads on your clothes to try and get you to stay a little bit longer, giving you the best big kitten eyes he can muster.

  And damn him, it works. He knows what he’s doing. 

  You had been looking for him one morning, thinking he just wandered off again and you’d find him napping in some corner of the city… when Diluc approaches you with a sheepish looking Venti-cat, holding him by the scruff of his neck. “This yours?”

  Diluc doesn’t even seem surprised that the bard is a cat. At least he isn’t an allergy risk when he’s human-like and trying to get into his wares. 

Wanderer ;

He is very aware of himself, he knows he looks stupid (cute) and that everything he does will be looked at through the lens of a typical cat and not someone stuck in its body.

  And thus, he does all he can to be as eerie and unnatural a cat as he can be.

  He doesn’t make a single sound, no meowing, no purring, nothing. He doesn’t walk like a cat—thankfully he doesn’t walk on two legs—nor does he exhibit any of their typical behaviours.

  At least, that was the plan. 

  Every single time Wanderer catches himself doing anything that could be considered “cat-like”, such as grooming himself, chasing a loose string, or gods forbid… kneading—he will immediately stop and compose himself again.

  As opposed to some others, he absolutely hates the loss of control that follows becoming a cat. 

  He can’t write properly, he can’t communicate—and if he tries, no one but you and perhaps Nahida takes him seriously—he’s always sleepy and aware at strange times… he hates it! 

  And once when he was just trying to have some grapes for snacks—you suddenly leapt towards him to stop him, taking the bowl off the table with a relieved huff when you noticed he hadn’t swallowed any of it… after you pried the grape out of his mouth. At his hissing, you explained that cats can’t have grapes. 

  He gave you the cold fur-shoulder for at least two days. 

  You brought him out one time to get some fresh air—since he’s fully aware of himself, he shouldn’t run off and get lost, or into a dangerous situation like an indoor cat might. But when you gave some other cats around the streets of Sumeru attention, he quickly meowed in protest and whacked the other cats away. 

  It’s a bit cute… he doesn’t normally act so forthcoming, and as he bumps his head into your knee afterwards, you rub his cheeks and pinch his ears despite further protest. How cute!

Wriothesley ;

At first, you weren’t even sure if Wriothesley was just a “cat”. He’s huge*. 

  You put a bowl in front of him, filled with foods that are okay for cats to eat but also not… gross, as Wriothesley is very much aware in that cat-head of his. “C’mon, there’s nothing wrong with this, I even tasted it—it’s a bit bland ‘cause we can’t put any seasoning, but it’s food.”

  He leans down, and for a second you think that he’s going to eat it—but as his whiskers brush against the sides of the bowl, he lifts his head abruptly and swats at the bowl, clattering it to the ground—he didn’t mean to hit it at all, but also not this hard. 

  You scratch your head, you just can’t figure out why he won’t eat—you’ve tried everything!

  It took you several hours of back and forth questions and meowing to realise that it was the shape of the bowl that was the problem and not the food itself.

  On another day, you reach down to pet his soft, thick fur—only to get a static shock, it zaps your fingers and both of you jump back. You always have to be careful with petting him, as there’s always a risk of getting zapped at any time. Worst part is, it’s not even every time! It catches you off guard!

  He likes to climb and jump on the pipes that web around the fortress, getting into places he’s never even considered before—and sometimes you look around for him for hours before giving up… only to suddenly be leapt on from above by a nine kilogram heavy cat half your size, knocking you over.

  Siegwinne noticed that he had been brooding lately, he had been stuck as a cat for five days now and it was beginning to frustrate him. So she decided to soak a small blanket in tea mixed with catnip—after it was dry and she rubbed some more on it, she laid it out in his office…

  You watched him for a good long while as he rubbed against it, meowed and rolled on the blanket. It was unbearably adorable, but you eventually pulled him away after a while—worrying it might be too much.

  He’s so large that it’s almost like sleeping with a person, just a very furry one. He lies halfway over you and as you wake in the morning—he refuses to get up. You give in and relax in bed for a while… until he starts kneading your cheeks, leaving small scratches with his big paws and claws. You don’t stop him—it doesn’t hurt, he looks so focused, like he’s trying to squeeze something out of your cheeks. 

Xiao ;

He meows and wriggles in your arms, but you try your best to hold him until you reach the top of the inn—he swats at you and you finally let him go when you enter his usual reserved room. Despite being paws up when you let go of him, Xiao lands perfectly and immediately hops up to the highest vantage point in the room he could reach. 

  You don’t get him down by yourself, he only comes down willingly after a few hours when he’s calmed down and adjusted a bit to this form. You’re not entirely sure what happened, you had just been exploring a cave that was strangely entwined with a temple of sorts, when a bright light appeared behind you, and Xiao—who had been accompanying you—was suddenly a cat. A very small cat. 

  He loafs on the windowsill in the night, his tail wrapped around his paws as he peers towards the sky—at the slightest noise, his ears flicker towards it and he squints at the roads below that pass and surround the large inn. 

  He is unbothered. Firm. Stoic.

  … after getting wet under a pouring rain that persisted all day, he pretends not to be bothered by his wet fur and the uncomfortable existence he leads under this blanket of wet fur…

  But he can only pretend for so long. You turn away and pretend to busy yourself to allow him some privacy to reluctantly lick along his fur and smooth it down, trying to clean or groom it in a way that makes it less sloppy. 

  He hates it, this weird satisfaction that comes with this very primal instinct, and yet, he does still feel the satisfaction.

  Xiao is difficult to read on an average day, he’s very used to controlling his emotions and maintaining a front that’s difficult to get past.

  But as a cat… he’s an open book, he approaches you with a curled tail, he slow blinks at you when you drag your fingers through his fur as he loafs on the windowsill. 

  But he does. Not. Meow. 

  Except for that time you hauled his ass back to the inn… and when Zhongli makes a sudden appearance, he hops from his perched position and snakes around the former Archon’s legs, purring and meowing as he’s being petted and spoken to. He doesn’t notice his own behaviour…

  Not until the following night after Zhongli leaves, and Xiao is mortified that he behaved like an affection-depraved cat in front of Morax.

  Thankfully you sliding a comb through his fur and untangling some knots from the day distracts and calms him down in the evening.

Zhongli ;

At first, you weren’t even sure if Zhongli was actually aware he was a cat, he follows you around, sits on a bench and licks his paw to clean it while you shop for groceries… he chases anything shiny that you come across and swats at it with his paws, leaps at it and tries to capture it—usually rocks or mora people drop. Maybe he likes the mineral, maybe it’s the shine. You can’t really know.

  You try to give him some nice food, cut down nicely so he won’t accidentally choke on it… but he won’t eat it, not unless you plate it properly…? At least, when you rearranged it better and separated the meats from the greens, he seemed to like it more. Maybe he thought you were treating him a bit too much like a pet rather than a partner that’s unfortunately become a cat for a (hopefully) limited time.

  After a long day of… not doing much, Zhongli realised he had left scratches on the sides of some furniture and he tries to hide or cover them up for the time being, dragging a blanket over the arm of a divan in the living room… hopefully you won’t discover them and he can fix it after he’s back to normal before you notice.

  You do notice that he very much prefers specific textures, he doesn’t like walking on the hardwood floor of your home and instead prefers to lie down or sit on blankets or the silken sheets in your shared bedroom. 

  Despite the strange predicament, Zhongli is very calm, he’s both patient and has a good sense—if this was a dangerous curse or spell that was difficult to reverse, he would likely sense it. Instead, he considers using this time to show and receive affection in a way you haven’t been able to before. 

  He often sits by your legs or thighs, he winds around them and rubs his furry cheeks along your clothes and pretty much anywhere he can reach. Your legs when he’s winding around them, your hand when you reach out to pet him, your cheek when he stands on your chest when you’re trying to read in bed before sleeping. 

  He purrs and cuddles with you, laying in your arms or over your lap—he even hid in your bag once when you went out for the day, and you discovered it too late to take him back home (you did wonder why your bag felt heavier than usual) and thus, he has the pleasure of accompanying you to your work—something he doesn’t often get the excuse or time to do. 

  Thankfully, Hu Tao didn’t question it when you came to her and said that Zhongli couldn’t come to work for a few days (hopefully just a few days). If anything, she sighed in relief and said something about him finally using his paid time off and sick days. Then thanks you for taking him out of commission??? 

  You pour over some scrolls and papers to try and figure out how to turn Zhongli back, and he hops onto the desk in the study, nuzzling against your arm before sitting down, tail swaying as he joins you in searching for ways to bring him back to you in a more familiar form. Despite how cute he is like this. 

* eri is the collar-flap on the front of a kimono/yukata that crosses over the chest, he's tucked into it and lying on his back. if you know about the nioh cat clock scene, yeah.

* wriothesley is supposed to be a maine coon type of cat, just huge and heavy. but not wild cat huge.

[call-me-chips]

Alrighty this is gonna be long but I'm bored so HERE WE GOOO

Kyomu Mori questions

1.Are they associated with a certain colour? What colour do they wear the most?

Because if his hair colour, I'd say he's accosiated with light blue. He usually wears more muted-ish colours like grey, dark blue, and white, but he loves wearing yellow

2. What sort of music would they like? Have you thought about what genres or bands do they lean towards? Do they have a favorite song?

He prefers rock music. Basically any music that makes you feel like you can take on the world. He loves vibing to those. And just because I don't have a fav song, neither does he 😅 (my fav songs change within a week)

3. Weapon of choice? Any particular reason they chose their weapon?

Guns. Any kind of gun, though he prefers pistols and other small, handheld ones. He likes guns because he's always been talented with them. That, and that he was raised by Snipe

4. How crafty/resourceful are they?

I'd say about a 7-7.5 out of ten for this one. Not the greatest, but he can conjure up some resourcefulness when he wants to

5. How do they typically dress? Does their wardrobe lean more toward practicality or aesthetics?

Depending on how he's feeling, his clothing choice changes. On a good day, he'll go for a nice-fitting tank top. On a bad day, he night go for a loose-fitting t-shirt. His clothing style is casual, but kinda aesthetic in a sort of steetsy-kinda way(??). Fashion/aesthetics are important for him, but you'll never catch him wearing anything with pockets he can't shove his whole hand into

6. How do they wear their hair? Do they care a lot about how their hair looks?

He almost always wears his hair in a high ponytail. Although he does this to get his hair out of the way, he always makes sure his hair looks presentable. He's the kinda guy to use a bit too much conditioner

7. Favourite animal? Why?

Dogs. Specifically german shepherds. Because he thinks guard dogs are cool af

8. Do they have a nickname? Who gave it to them? If it's not derived from their real name, what's the story behind it?

His nickname is Kyo. Ashido gave him it randomly one day, and Kaminari immediately started using it too

9. Favourite food? Least favourite? Are they a picky eater? Do they have any dietary restrictions?

Fav: Burgers. Specifically bacon burgers. Least fav: Tomatoes. He's not really a picky eater, but he's not even TOUCHING anything woth tomatoes in it. And he doesn't have any dietary restrictions

10. If they wear jewelry, what kind? Do they prefer silver or gold? Do they have a favourite gem?

He wears earrings and has an eyebrow piercing, but he'll toss on a necklace or two if he wants to look presentable when going out

11. What do they have in common with you? How are they different? Would you get along with them?

He doesn't have a lot in common with me. Ig we both question authority?? Also we both live guns. Overall, he's MUCH more confident than me. We are quite different. I'd say I wouldn't get along the greatest with him, mainly cuz he likes physical touch, and that is something I HATE. You touch me randomly and I freeze, as well as shoot you a dirty look XD

12. How long have they been around? Do you know their birthday? Is their birthday the day you made them or another day? What do they think of celebrating birthdays?

He has been around for 16 and a bit years, and his birthday is on April 6th. This is not the day I made him (actually this is the first I'm hearing of making their release date into their actual birthday. I shall do this for another of my ocs :) ). He loves his birthday cuz it gives him attention xD

13. What languages do they speak? How fluently?

He can speak Japanese, English, and Filipino. He speaks Japanese fluently. His English isn't the greatest, but he's learning from school. His Filipino is REALLY rusty, but he can hold a basic conversation. He knows Filipino because his father is from the Philippines, and he learned the language as a kid, but he hasn't really used it since highschool

14. Are they any good with numbers?

Not really sure how to interpret this, but he's not the greatest at math

15. How big or small is their family? Who did they live with growing up? Do they live with anyone now?

His parents died. He lived with Snipe growing up. Currently, he's living in the UA dorms

16. Do they have any pets? What do they call their pets?

He doesn't have any pets, but he wants a dog. He also kinda maybe sorta wants a bird

17. How did they spend their summers/free time as a child?

He spent a lot of his time at the shooting range growing up, and it's always been a place of comfort to him

18. Their opinion on lying, stealing, and killing?

He thinks they're bad, obviously. But,,, he does think they are justified, and even necessary, in many cases

19. Are they quick to anger? What sets them off?

He doesn't really anger quickly. He's more laid back. And although he does get angry when someone hurts/threatens his friends, he also gets angry when many little things go wrong. Like, you know those days where everything seems to go wrong and you're tripping on things and dropping things? Yeah that gets him angy quickly

20. If applicable, can they drive? If they have their own, what colour is their vehicle? Is the inside neat and tidy, or a mess?

The legal driving age in Japan is 18, so he can't drive. But he may or may not fail many a driving test in the future... Also he has sworn that his future car WILL have racing stripes.

21. Their favourite place to be?

The shooting range

22. Do they sleep well at night?

Kyomu sleeps like a little baby, if that baby takes up the whole bed while sleeping and falls off the bed randomly in the night

23. How would you describe their voice? Can they sing?

His voice is on the louder side. I don't have a voice claim yet, but I may find one eventually. Also he can't sing. Granted, it's def not the worst out there, but it couldn't be considered "good"

24. Do they have any creative hobbies? (Art, writing, music, etc.)

He likes doing graffiti, tho he doesn't do it often. Other than that, he likes to listen to music

25. How good/bad is their hearing? What about their eyesight?

His hearing is a little better than what is considered normal, and his eyesight is good. Little fun fact about his eyesight: He sees yellow slightly better than any other colour. Yellow is very slightly more vibrant and bright to him

26. How do they move? Are they clumsy? Light on their feet? Do they use mobility aids?

Because of how his legs are built, he is slightly more light on his feet. His footsteps don't make a lot of noise. He can be a bit clumsy tho. He's not the most careful with his actions

27. If applicable, do they have a favorite sport? Do they play any sports or prefer to watch?

He likes basketball (probably cuz Kyomu has a height advantage over his friends). Watching sports is boring to him, and he prefers to play some friendly basketball with his friends

28. How do they show they care about someone? How do they express that they don't like someone?

Kyomu shows he likes someone by doing things with them and touching them (not like that. Stop it.). He'll ruffle his friends' hair or playfully poke them, and he's always down to give a massage if asked. Sometimes he'll even find his tail involuntarily grazing by the legs of those he loves.

29. Are they accosiated with any particular element (air, earth, fire, water)?

I don't think he's really "accosiated" with an element, but he'd probably be water

30. Do they smell like anything notable?

Nope. The only notable smell-related thing I can think of is that he sometimes uses women's deodorant because it smells better than men's "forest mud deodorant" or whatever it's named xD

31. Do they like receiving gifts? Giving gifts? What is their ideal gift?

He loves receiving gifts, but not giving so much, because he rever really knows what to get people. His ideal gift is any like, small, neat, unique, silly trinket. He loves collecting silly shit his friends give him

32. Do they have any hobbies that aren't particularly self-destructive, just maybe odd?

Not a hobby, but he drinks the pickle juice out of the jar when he finishes all the pickles.

33. If applicable, how would your other characters describe them? I mean specifically the people around them.

I don't have any other Mha ocs as of rn, but I can do this for his friends. Also I'm not gonna go into how each character would describe him, so ima do how the characters see him Kaminari, Ashido, and Sero see him as kinda like a cool older brother, and they live hanging out with him Kirishima and Jirou see him as a wee bit much, but they still love him and love the energy that he brings to class. Bakugou doesn't like him. Especially cuz Kyomu is taller than him and he doesn't like that Others like Iida, Midoriya, and Ochako don't care for his rebellious personality, but they will admit that he brings up the mood of just about whatever situation he finds himself in

(The thing above is being a bitch and is refusing to be coloured blue and now we must all suffer.)

34. How would your character describe themselves? It doesn't have to line up with who they really are.

Kyomu thinks of himself as more or less the "popular kid" that just about everyone likes. He would describe himself as brave, strong, and willing to stick up for what he thinks is right

35. Do they ever return home?

. . . . ?? He never "left" home?? I mean, he is living in the dorms rn, but idk what this question is getting at :/

Tagging @bluespider008 because I found these questions cuz you posted yours, but I didn't want this to take up a ton of space on my blog, so I just reblogged the original post 😅

Idk if you wanna see this, but you're seeing it now!

Also feel free to reblog with your oc :)

i wanted to make an oc ask game 😋 things i like to ask people abt their characters:

are they associated with a certain color? what color do they wear the most?

what sort of music would they like? have you thought about what genres or bands do they lean towards? do they have a favorite song?

weapon of choice? any particular reason they chose their weapon?

how crafty/resourceful are they?

how do they typically dress? does their wardrobe lean more towards practicality or aesthetics?

how do they wear their hair? do they care a lot how their hair looks?

favorite animal? why?

do they have a nickname? who gave it to them? if it's not derived from their real name, what's the story behind it?

favorite food? least favorite? are they a picky eater? do they have any dietary restrictions?

if they wear jewelry, what kind? do they prefer silver or gold? do they have a favorite gem?

what do they have in common with you? how are they different? would you get along with them?

how long have they been around? do you know their birthday? is their birthday the day you made them or another day? what do they think of celebrating birthdays?

what languages do they speak? how fluently?

are they any good with numbers?

how big or small is their family? who did they live with growing up? do they live with anyone now?

do they have any pets? what do they call their pets?

how did they spend their summers/free time as a child?

their opinion on lying, stealing, and killing?

are they quick to anger? what sets them off?

if applicable, can they drive? if they have their own, what color is their vehicle? is the inside neat and tidy, or a mess?

their favorite place to be?

do they sleep well at night?

how would you describe their voice? can they sing?

do they have any creative hobbies? (art, writing, music, etc)

how good/bad is their hearing? what about their eyesight?

how do they move? are they clumsy? light on their feet? do they use mobility aids?

if applicable, do they have a favorite sport? do they play any sports or prefer to watch?

how do they show that they care about someone? how do they express that they don't like someone?

are they associated with any particular element (air, earth, fire, water)?

do they smell like anything notable?

do they like receiving gifts? giving gifts? what is their ideal gift?

do they have any habits that aren't particularly self-destructive, just maybe odd?

if applicable, how would your other characters describe them? i mean specifically the people around them.

how would your character describe themselves? it doesn't have to line up with how they really are.

do they ever return home?

[ghouljams]

I feel like each of the 141 has a difference preference when dicking down their mate.

Kyle prefers to stay human, it lets him really get a good show while fucking into the pretty thing he managed to take home. Seeing how your skin contrasts to his softly colored sheets is more reassuring to him that you're his than any scenting could be. Also, he's a lighter sleeper as a human, letting him keep you in his bed if you try to slip out while he's asleep.

Price likes the little hint of other, as a sign of his age and experience. He's the only one of the 141 who can shift only a few senses instead of having to start properly shifting. Let's him memorize your scent while fucking you, all so he can let you have the illusion of choice by letting you go and "finding" you again later. Eventually, he'll make it seem like a bit of fate and offer you out on a date.

Ghost partially shifts, and that's the most he can hold himself back when it comes to you. Claws and teeth come out, drool dripping from his maw to your skin. He needs to taste you, to make sure you taste the same. Taste like his.

Soap is a dog and he will fuck you in full transformation because of it. This man needs you on the most primal level, so why not just fuck you at his most primal. It also gives him a better nose to smell your sweat soaked skin, a longer tongue to shove into you, better hearing to catch each and every whimper you make. He needs to consume you and the best way to do that is with his wolf.

At least, that's my thought.

As usual how does it feel to be so fucking right?

Gaz absolutely prefers fucking you as a human, it feels too much like taking advantage of you when he has his semi-transformed strength and the idea of fucking you fully wolf makes him itch a little. He's so worried about damaging you with his claws and fangs :( his poor human mate, he doesn't want to ruin you. We'll, not like that at least. That won't stop him from knotting you, that's a luxury he can't afford not to indulge in. He loves the way you squirm and complain about the stretch, shushing you with soft coos, promising it'll be over soon, even when he knows it'll be a good 20 minutes at least.

Price is old hat at transformations and after years of growing and shrinking it's worn on his joints, if he doesn't have to transform he won't. He'll indulge in the sensed his wolf-form lends him, pressing his nose to your pulse and getting himself drunk on your scent. His eyes are always dark, animalistic, when he drags his flat tongue against your sex, and you worry that the teeth he's hiding might bite too hard, but he hasn't hurt you yet. And the only scare he gives you is when he presses his hand against your come filled stomach talking about pups.

Ghost simply lacks self control around you. The man has the control of a saint, but once he gets drunk on the scent of your arousal it's over for him. He grips you with heavy clawed hands, his skin splitting with fur and his nose starting to lengthen, and it scares you a little. His breathing is uneven, but his hips don't stop moving even when his bones start to break and his joints begin to pop. His drool dripping onto you is the only indication you get before he's sinking his teeth into your shoulder. You'll have to take wolfsbane in the morning if you don't want to end up going through the same pain.

Soap though... Soap fucks you like a dog, literally. He'll hunt you down on a full moon and hold you down with big paws, murmuring canned tones from his open maw about how he can't stop himself. He's all instinct, all panting and howling as he mounts you and ruts his cock against your sex, uncaring what hole he fucks himself into as long as it's yours. He'll lay directly on top of you once he's knotted you too, licking your face in apology but you know he doesn't mean it because he keeps asking for another round.

[overtake]

Post-Vegas Maxiel | 1.2K

The lead-up to Max’s fist on Daniel’s front door is a hazy kaleidoscope of memories.

Flashes of sponsor-branded tumblers with gin and tonics being pressed into his hands, which started the night steady and ended up shaky when they tried to sneak under Martin’s shirt and feel up his chest.

Fuzzier still: Martin pulling him into a hug and whispering something against Max’s sticky, sweaty temple about where Max really wanted to be. He can’t make out the words in his hazy memories, only their too-kind cadence, but he remembers the shape of the name Daniel on Martin’s mouth and the way he suddenly stopped wanting to kiss it.

His phone history highlights a costly change to his flight path, a car service for when he landed, typoed assurances to his team that he’d make it in time for Qatar, and four calls that Daniel never returned.

So Max is here in LA, knowing Daniel is probably warm and fast asleep in bed. He can picture the leg hanging off the side of his mattress. His white noise machine will be making Daniel’s bedroom sound like rain, a different shower than the champagne that was poured over Max’s head and down his throat.

He longs to be inside. To press his broad chest against the muscles of Daniel’s back. To kiss down the heated skin because Daniel keeps his bedroom warm like Perth summer and prefers flannel sheets.

Max’s whole body aches with every movement and the need to hold Daniel, even as a solid thrum of excitement keeps his spine rigid and eyes open. He wants to take what Daniel hinted could be theirs when all this was over, even though Max still has two more races and maybe more years left. He’ll be okay if Daniel isn’t ready, but the part of himself that was genetically designed to know Daniel tells him he’s allowed to try.

“Max?”

And then Daniel’s there, confused and squinting around the side of the house. Not asleep, the way Max pictured. He’s in shorts and nothing else, the side of his hand pressed to his forehead as he tries to ward off the sun’s glare and process what’s in front of him.

Max, little pieces of confetti still stuck to his cheek, holding nothing but his backpack and a phone on 10% battery. Max, bleary-eyed and mouth beginning to taste of hangover and death.

He knows he’s not a vision, that this isn’t the big romantic gesture he’d planned with dirt bikes under a Christmas tree. Instead, he hopes his flushed cheeks and mussed hair and the break of his face into the same kind of smile that lived under his helmet when he crossed the finish line … he prays those are enough, that Daniel is healed enough to let himself want Max now and like this.

“I won,” Max says dumbly. He wishes he remembered to grab a water bottle from the car service so the sentence wouldn’t dry tacky and cotton under his tongue.

“You won,” Daniel says, matter-of-fact. He’s not upset or elated. He’s not anything different. He’s Daniel, as himself as ever, looking like he expected this, like Max belongs here the same as the green grass and cement walls.

Max doesn’t feel ridiculous and fearful with Daniel holding him in the stare of his gentle eyes. They’re crinkled at the edges from all his years of laughing — many of the moments shared with Max adding to their depth since the skin there was taut with their shared youth. Max is developing his own smile lines, finally old enough for his skin to permanently imprint the joy of knowing Daniel.

“I have to leave for Qatar tomorrow,” Max says. He takes a step toward Daniel, then another, until Daniel begins to move too.

Max processes for the first time the way Daniel glows under the LA sun and considers that maybe he could make a home here too in Daniel’s joy. He’d seen him in Monaco. He’d been able to confirm for his own eyes that Daniel was taking ownership of this new life and thriving in it. He’d been too nervous then to do more than take Daniel to lunch and padel and observe him cautiously, trying to note every change in his month of healing.

He has the same relaxed and relieved demeanour now as he did then. Daniel is beautiful and belongs everywhere, but Max would make his home in LA just to watch the way Daniel lives so carefree under these palm trees and hundred lane highways.

His shoulders are even looser here than they were Monaco. When Max places a hand on Daniel’s bare, sun-warmed hip, he can feel the tiniest squish of where Daniel can finally eat all the schnitzel he wants. He’s a cactus built in the tough conditions of a sport that didn’t love him back, and he’s still blooming his flowers without it. Max wants to cup him like he’s something precious and be grateful that this sport didn’t make him bitter, that he was born so good that he could survive all this and love Max anyway.

“Guess you don’t need to get me a Christmas present after all,” Daniel jokes. His giggle ducks his head down to Max’s shoulder for a half second, hair tickling the nape of Max’s neck.

Max didn’t need his point to win, sure. But he liked having it; knowing that Daniel set a lap record as his final fuck you to the blind fuckers who quit on him, a lap that also gifted Max breathing room. He’d wished in the plane ride home after Singapore that fastest laps had something tangible for him to steal and hold in Daniel’s absentia. A trophy, a plaque, anything he could grip between his heat-swollen fingers to remember how his chest felt when his radio crackled with the news of Daniel’s triumph.

Max shakes his head, which sends a slightly dizzying wave through his dehydrated, sleep-deprived body. He adjusts his grip tighter on Daniel’s skin, a needed reprieve after the physical ache of wanting.

“You of course still get a Christmas present,” he tells Daniel. He briefly wishes his breath were fresher, but he doesn’t think Daniel will mind too much. “A real one, too, but also.”

He drops his bag on the grass then so his other hand is free to trace the contours of Daniel’s stubbled jawline. Max thinks that if Daniel is careful, Max will be okay to strap the seatbelt around his thighs this week even with the lingering beard burn.

Daniel gifts him the kiss instead, while Max is busy trying to memorize this moment inside his bleary head. His lips are wet against Max’s parched, chapped ones, but he doesn’t pull away from the reminder of Max’s night spent celebrating a world that Daniel was choosing to forget.

Instead, Daniel’s arms ensnare his waist and tug him closer until Max’s breath hitches and he forgets they’re in a front lawn and loses himself inside Daniel’s mouth.

“Congratulations, champ,” Daniel says, pulling away only long enough to speak the words. His nose brushes Max’s when he speaks and begins to tug Max toward the front door. “Let’s get you home.”

[be-good-be-safe-be-kind]

.

no one's really asked, and i don't really like telling people about the different parts, but i do tend default to basics like these circles bc idk really how else to explain. and also i'm almost always on the fence with if i even have DID or not, even with all the symptoms and conversations with therapist and evaluators and 'proofs' after social events and stuff where hearing what happened, the reaction of 'i would not do that' and stuff.

approximate age and gender is the 'easiest' to pinpoint, since my overall concept of gender is just -shrug-, and gender presentation i don't really think about but there are things like 'oh this one likes when the hair is in a ponytail' or 'this one prefers short shorts to basketball shorts' (and someone else is the opposite in that regard), which might be easier to explain as gender for the sake of simplicity. age is more like a 'grade' level than an age, or a 'group' like anywhere under 5, or somewhere between 5 and 7/early schooling. 12ish to early/middle teenager, or vague age between 14 and 18. a couple of 'adults' with nothing more to go on except as a kid, they're whatever i guess i though an adult was like, and they're anywhere between always 5ish years above me or just 'adult'.

temperament and likes/dislikes, or interests/disinterests is a bit trickier, but this blog does help. i scroll through the dash and random blogs and sometimes things just stand out as someone's, so they get tagged and drafted, and then i use the drafts as a dash and if i feel like whoever and see something at the time, it usually gets posted then. the thing is though, idk even if i am them at the time or what the deal is but sometimes interests just 'speak' to me or not-me and i want it archived/ timestamped for that time. and also led to a bit of a panic attack a while ago where the ocean/waves sometimes feels more like a part than an interest, like there's more of a person attached to it kinda in the [ws] way and not in ways like with toys or tv.

the blue circle with the layers is a really helpful diagram bc i also am not usually thinking or feeling distinct. i mean i can recognize some distinctions like right now i'm able to use personal pronouns and complete sentences and not worry about how grammatically incorrect they are, which sorta points to a certain part/feeling/mode but idk. idk if this is more conscious or subconscious but i am aware of it right now and how these things aren't 'universal' / collective / communal things, but idk really what to do with that. i don't think it matters much, as long as i'm this 'awake' or whatever and know where i am and what's happening. the problem is more when there's awareness of distinctions but mostly confusion, like the times when i almost literally can't speak, like it feels physically impossible, and can't really move either and sorta wait it out or until i guess the other subconscious parts push forward more and break out of that mode?

life usually is kinda rainbow-y and blurry. although i have my circle kinda the opposite of this diagram i think, where the conscious layer is the outermost circle and the innermost one is unconscious, bc i feel like most of the time things move from the inside out than outside in? or like, there's a lot of unconscious stuff all the time, but maybe it sorta blurs with the subconscious, which then moves closer to consciousness/what presents to me and others/what i guess i look like on the outside. idk. i just know that language like 'fronting' confuses me bc i don't think i ever know who is the one entirely 'facing' the world.

and now i'm running out of steam and getting brain foggy so gonna call it a day with this one

I made a thing that’s entirely based off personal experience.

For all the people who struggle to figure out “who’s fronting” or even “who’s around”…I’m right there with you.

[DID/OSDD Casually Explained Masterpost]

[luxcuriousao3]

I've been messing around lately, writing Ghost in different ways to see which rings most true to his character (in my opinion). I wouldn't say that it does ring true for me in this one (then again this one did spawn from my stalker!Ghost thots, tho this fic isn't part of that universe), but I decided to post it anyway. So this little ficlet, despite being xReader, is more of a Ghost character study than anything else. This characterization is definitely experimental, and leans into the "Ghost and Simon are separate personalities" headcanon. No smut, but still NSFW.

Ghost x general's daughter!Reader

You were the daughter of some aging General, a balding, pot-bellied man on his way out, an honorable discharge in his near future. You’d come to visit him on the base, a tray of gooey brownies held firmly in your hands, two hot cocoas balanced on top, and a visitor’s badge pinned to your chest.

Initially, Ghost hadn’t taken much notice of you. Pretty thing, would be easy to kill, was his first impression. A casual, fleeting thought that he paid no attention to but made Simon shudder. There had been a time that when Ghost was in control, Simon was entirely unaware. He would come to and hours could have passed, sometimes days, or, on one particularly grueling campaign, even weeks. It was how he knew there was something evil lurking inside him. But in the desert, all was revealed, and Simon and Ghost were irrevocably tangled up in one another, the same but not, like two different sides of a single coin.

It wasn’t until you walked straight into his firm, broad chest and spilled the scaldingly hot drinks on him that he really noticed you.

Clumsy fuckin’ bird, Ghost thought angrily as he grunted in pain. Should break your bloody wings.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” You chirped, looking up at him with wide, apologetic eyes. He waited for you to flinch and look away when you saw his mask, but you didn’t. You just shifted your tray of brownies to one hand, the other fluttering uselessly over his soaking wet chest for a few seconds, before you grabbed the hem of your dress in a panic and lifted it up to try and dry him off with it.

Your dress was long, long enough to keep you from flashing him entirely, but he still caught an eyeful of your legs, even a glimpse of your plush thighs. At least until you realized what you were doing and dropped your dress again with a squeak of embarrassment, cheeks reddening.

“I’m so sorry,” you repeated earnestly, as Ghost stared down at you in bemusement. It wasn’t often he was shocked by someone’s behavior, but you were just so odd. It was, admittedly, amusing. Watching you squawk and try to smooth your ruffled feathers was like watching someone who’d tried to kill him choke on their own blood. Entertaining. Satisfying. Vaguely erotic.

“Are you okay?” You finally remembered to ask, reaching out to touch him again, as if to check him over. Ghost’s hands shot up, one wrapping around your wrist in a firm grip, the other moving to stop your dessert tray—which was tilting dangerously—from falling. He could feel your pulse thrumming beneath his finger tips, and the warmth of your skin seeped through his glove.

“M’fine,” he said shortly, voice deep and grumbly but not as hostile as usual. Simon’s influence, no doubt. Ghost almost rolled his eyes. His other half always banged on and on about treating ladies with proper respect. Ghost wasn’t particularly interested in sex with other people, preferring to fuck his own fist if the urge grew too great to ignore, but he thought about bending you over right here in this hallway and bullying Simon’s big cock into you, just to spite him.

“Oh! Thank you,” you said with a charming smile, entirely ignorant to the image he’d conjured up of you. One he found himself enjoying more than he’d thought he would. “I really am sorry,” you said for the third time, like a parrot echoing itself. Little bird indeed. “I’m such a klutz. Except for when I’m dancing. Then I’ve got at least a modicum of grace.”

Beneath his mask, Ghost raised a brow. Had he mistakenly given off the impression that he cared?

His silence was pointed, and you flushed deeper. You pushed the tray of brownies towards him, seemingly unphased by the grip he still had on it and your wrist. He let go.

“Go ahead, take it,” you said encouragingly, holding out the treat insistently. “It’s the least I can do to make up for ruining your shirt… I can always make more for Daddy another day.”

Simon’s cock twitched, and this time the dirty thoughts in their head were entirely his. Though Ghost could admit the thought of you calling him Daddy in that sweet little voice of yours, all innocent and sincere, was appealing. Perhaps there was something attractive about fucking another person after all.

“Don’t want any,” Ghost answered after a moment, and your face fell. But instead of taking his words for the dismissal they were, you perked back up and continued talking.

“Do you not like brownies? I can make you something else and come back tomorrow,” you offered, for some unknowable reason. Both Simon and Ghost were astounded the conversation had lasted this long, and worse yet, showed no signs of ending. “I can make lemon bars, white chocolate truffles, pudding, anything you’d like.. But nothing too fancy.” You giggled. No one had ever giggled in Ghost’s presence before. “I’m no professional baker. I just do it when the mood strikes, or when Daddy is craving something sugary. He’s the one who taught me to bake. Oh! Do you have any allergies? Nuts, gluten, anything? I don’t want to poison you…”

And on and on you went, rambling like Ghost was actually listening to you. Except that he was. Perhaps it was cruel curiosity, wanting to see how long you’d carry on making a fool of yourself. Or maybe it was Simon pitying you for the nerves in your voice, not wanting to interrupt you and make you more anxious. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that you were showing Ghost more kindness than he had ever received in his life.

Simon had experienced the joys of living, of companionship and love. Ghost had not, though he’d seen it all through their eyes. He hadn’t really thought that he was missing out on anything.

But now, with a lovely little dove like you offering to bake for him—not Simon, but Ghost—he thought he maybe he was, if just a tad. Especially if your pussy tasted as sweet as your baked goods smelled.

[obxsummer]

how much do you love me // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

summary: a proposal pogue style gets overshadowed with the arrival of chandler groff. your night goes from celebrating into treasure hunting, and john b and jj are in for the shock of their lives for completely opposite reasons

warnings: little spicy beginning, drug use, mentions of not being able to have kids, pregnancy trope (i still love u, sarah cameron), and i fear you're all about to hate me....

navigation -- series masterlist

ask me anything or support me via a ko-fi

--

JJ found you shortly after you climbed out of the shower, hair wet as you tried to wiggle into a pair of sweatpants. Nothing ever went on easy with damp skin, and your frustration was building faster than you liked to admit. 

“C’mere,” JJ’s tone was soft as he sat on the bed and reached forward for you, helping you tug the ankles over your feet so you could comfortably adjust the fabric without the risk of falling over. He reached forward when you were stable, pulling your waist to bring you closer so he was level with your chest.

“My eyes are up here, Jayj,” You teased and placed your fingers under his chin to reroute his gaze from your lace bralette. The boyish grin told you his attention on your face wouldn’t last long so you needed to move quick. “Hi.”

“Hi,” He mumbled, his hand reaching you to grab the back of your neck and gently pull you down to meet him for a soft kiss. A groan left your lips as his other hand tucked itself on your side, his thumb brushing the skin under your bralette teasingly. 

“Please don’t start something we won’t stop,” You whispered, teeth pulling on his lip slightly. Your skin was still damp and clammy, heating up with every move he made. “They’re gonna be waiting on us.”

JJ hummed, his mouth moving from yours to nip at the dip of your collarbones. If you let him keep going, the two of you would not be leaving this room anytime soon.

“Babe, you- oh,” Your breath caught as he bit down a little too harsh and soothed the skin with the swipe of his tongue. “JJ.”

“Shh,” He shushed you, fingers gently tugging the strap of your bralette off your shoulder so he could get closer to where he really wanted. There were a lot of things running through JJ’s mind right now, but they all centered around you. You with a ring on your finger, bare underneath him after you share a last name. You were going to be his in ways you hadn’t been before.

“You guys hungry?” Sarah at least knocked on the door, her voice interrupting before the two of you could get much further. You smirked as JJ flopped against the bed with a huff. 

“I’m not, but I’m sure JJ is,” You called back, adjusting the strap of your top before shrugging on a cropped long sleeve to cover up any evidence of JJ’s recent actions. Bending down, you gave him one more long kiss before standing back up and patting his thigh lovingly. “Enjoy your cold shower, babe.”

JJ groaned loudly as you left the room, meeting Sarah in the hallway, a knowing smile on her face. She reached up to poke the sore spot on your collarbone and you pulled back with a gasp. “JJ’s hungry, all right,” She laughed, “Hey, I need your help with something, c’mere.”

You followed her into the next room where she had a handful of dresses scattered across the bed. 

“I think John B and I are gonna go to City Hall tomorrow and apply for a marriage license. So, which one should I wear?”

You glanced at her, “Sarah, these are all my dresses.”

She pursed her lips. “Yeah… yeah. Just hypothetically, though, like if you were to wear one, which one?”

You gave her an odd look at her weird attitude before pointing at the one on the bed that you preferred. “Probably this one. Cute but not too formal, you know?”

Sarah nodded and picked it up to hold in front of the two of you. After a moment, she tossed it at your chest. “Try it on for me, I wanna see what it looks like.”

“Then why don’t you-”

“No, no, please.” She pushed you toward the bathroom as you tried to object which didn’t help as she closed the door behind you. You sighed, frustrated from being pulled from JJ to try dresses on that you already owned. 

You pulled your shirt and sweatpants back off and shimmied into the dress per Sarah’s request. Glancing in the mirror, you forgot how much you loved this item. After getting some necessities for everyone in the group post-gold, Sarah insisted on getting some items for you and Cleo to help blend when she went back to her dad’s rental condo since Kie already had some. This happened to be your favorite one you saw that day. It was gorgeous and flattering in every way possible, and you were simply obsessed.

“Okay, here,” You spoke before grabbing the door handle to walk back out. Only, it didn’t budge in the slightest. You frowned and tried wiggling it again, but it didn’t move. “Sarah? I think the door’s stuck.”

Silence followed your words.

“Hello?” You repeated, knocking this time but received nothing in return. “Oh, you bitches.”

It became obvious they were up to something that involved locking you in John B and Sarah’s bathroom with no form of communication or entertainment. You sighed and sat on the floor, leaning your head back against the cabinets as you settled in. Knowing them, you’d be here a while.

You tried to rack your brain for any important date coming up. Your birthday still had a few weeks and was the closest out of anyone in the group, so birthdays were out. No anniversaries, and as far as you know, nobody else got married. Unless this had suddenly turned into a baby shower, you were out of options.

Minutes passed of pure boredom and you were beginning to question if a bath towel would suffice as a comfy blanket only to be spared as the door opened. 

“Finally,” You huffed and got to your feet to see Kiara staring at you. “Where’s Sarah? We suddenly have beef.”

She laughed and took a step in the room despite your wishes. “You look cute. Date night? Let me fix your hair.”

You shook your head, now completely confused. “What? No, we-”

There was no room to argue as Kiara started digging through all of Sarah’s hair supplies. She quickly set to work, avoiding most conversations with you and letting her phone play music to satisfy your desire for noise. Soon, she’d completed your favorite hairstyle, the one she used to practice all the time when you were younger. 

She caught your gaze in the mirror and smiled. “Cute.” She shrugged and walked out without another word. 

Your jaw dropped as you watched her form disappear, utter confusion left in her place. “What the fuck?” You whispered to yourself and walked out of the bathroom. The house was oddly silent and your heart started racing. 

Cleo hopped out of her room a second later. “Well shit, where you going looking so sweet?”

You shrugged. Either she was in on it, or at least played it off better than the others. “No idea. You know something I don’t?”

Cleo clicked her tongue. “Not a chance, girly. But what I do know, is you need some shoes.”

You should’ve seen it coming and took the outstretched pair of your shoes from her hands to slip on your feet. Shaking your head, you continued down the stairs in hopes that whatever secret they were hiding would pop out soon.

You peeked around the corner to see Pope in the kitchen with his back to you. You let out a breath, hoping your confusion would end here. “Hey, what is-”

He flipped around with a creepy smile on his own face, his attempt at not being suspicious.

You rolled your eyes. “Alright, what?”

Pope held out the infamous purple bandana that was usually around your brother’s neck. “Blindfold time.”

Disgust took over your face as he came closer with the fabric. “Pope, please tell me you at least washed it first? Please say yes. What the fuck.” You could smell fresh laundry detergent and sighed in relief. 

He wrapped the fabric around your eyes, making sure it was secure but not too tight. Waving his hand in front of your face, you didn’t move in the slightest, but you were a little too rigid for his liking so he grabbed your hand instead. “I’m right here, won’t let anything happen.”

You nodded, trying to keep your racing thoughts at bay and let Pope guide you slowly. The chill of outside settled in soon after and you gripped his hand a little tighter. 

“I’m so kicking your ass for this later,” You grumbled, your steps awkward as you tried to navigate a terrain you couldn’t see. You tried listening for anything out of the ordinary but came up empty-handed. “All of you, actually. Asses are grass.”

Pope laughed quietly, his other hand grabbing your open one as he guided you down a few stairs. “Remember when we would play hide and seek as kids and you’d always pick the same spot?”

You smiled at the memory. “Yeah, and you’d never let me win because of it. Always checked the stupid cabinet first.”

Pope squeezed your hands reassuringly. “Couldn’t let that ego get too big so young, you’d be even more like JJ than you already are. Gotta hand you off, that okay?”

You hummed in agreement and Pope slowly let go before another pair of hands took over your hold. 

“Bandana smell good for once?”

You clocked John B’s voice instantly and attempted to hit him, but missed. “You’re an asshole, I thought I was going to suffocate to death when Pope first told me.”

John B laughed, “You can thank Sarah for that one.”

“Figured,” You mumbled, “Don’t think you’ve done your own laundry since ever.” 

You could hear the noise of your steps changing from the grass to wood, meaning your brother was guiding you down the dock. The movement of the water was much louder now.

“Hey, I love you, yeah?” John B asked and you nodded in return, agreeing with his statement. “Do me a favor and try not to scream, okay?”

You froze as John B let go to undo the bandana from around your eyes, even though you had them pinched shut in anticipation. Your brother squeezed your upper arms lightly and you finally forced your eyes to open.

Despite his wishes, you did scream before covering your own mouth to quiet the noise. The covered portion of the dock was covered in its usual white Christmas lights, which wasn’t new. What was new, was the handful of flower petals leading up to the person standing under the lights.

“Girl, you crazy? Go get him!” Someone laughed at Cleo’s comment, and you shook your head, still in shock at the sight before you knowing they would be hiding somewhere nearby to watch this go down. 

You took off, shoes smacking loudly against the wooden platform to meet JJ who opened his arms and caught you with ease. You pulled back slightly to kiss him, your actions having a much different meaning than earlier.

JJ set you down gently and before he could even speak, you were nodding your head. He chuckled, “You’re not even gonna let me ask the question before agreeing?”

You let out a teary laugh. “Doesn’t matter, answer is yes.”

“Okay, well I was actually asking if you would stop taking long ass showers so-”

You pushed him lightly, your fingers shaking with adrenaline. “J.”

He shook his head and kneeled down in front of you, which caused another round of tears and you nearly choked at the sight of him. JJ Maybank would never get down on his knees for someone, but apparently, you were and would continue to be the exception to that rule. 

“I um… you know I suck at putting emotions into words, and I already gave John B the speech of my life-”

“You prepared better for my brother than me?” You teased and brushed tears from your cheeks. “Should’ve known you always wanted him.”

JJ nearly flipped you off in response but opted for a roll of his eyes instead. “Baby, are you seriously talking about your brother while I’m trying to propose?”

You gaped at him in disbelief. “You started it!” “Alright, alright,” JJ laughed and reached into his pocket to grab the ring. “Look. I know so much has happened in our lives, and shit will continue to hit the fan, but… you have made every day of our time together so worth it. You’re the reason I get out of bed, even when there’s so much I want to hide from. You’re the reason try to come home every night, to hold you and know it’ll be okay. You continue to be the reason I believe in love, after growing up in a world without it, and.. and I don’t know what I would do without you, and I don’t plan to find out, obviously. There’s so many promises I’ve yet to make, and there’s so much I owe to you, and I’m just gonna shut up before my leg goes numb so, will you marry me?”

Heart racing, you reached for JJ’s hand and a flicker of confusion crossed his face before he grabbed it and stood up to his full height again. You wrapped your arms around his neck and shifted closer. “There is actually nothing in the world that I want more than to marry you. Where you go, I go, yeah?”

JJ barely cried, but the words were enough to push him over the edge and he quickly leaned down to kiss you in a way he hadn’t before. You fell in, melting into his hands like it was where you belonged. You could hear the faint cheers of your family behind you when the two of you pulled away, JJ taking the opportunity to slide the ring onto your left hand.

You gasped at the ring, eyes meeting his in shock, and you swore you were going to hit the ground at any second. “Where did you find this?”

JJ smiled, his thumbs brushing tears from your cheeks as he held your face softly. “You can thank Sarah for that one.”

Your bottom lip quivered at the sight of your mom’s ring resting on your hand. This ring had once meant family and promise, but it couldn’t hold up to that, no matter how much you wished it did. But with JJ in front of you, and your friends storming their way down to celebrate, you knew the story was about to change…. all because of you.

--

You didn’t ask who stole the alcohol, and quite frankly, you didn’t care because it was making you bubbly and warm inside. Your guess was Sarah raided whatever remained at her dad’s rental condo, considering there was a bottle of champagne in your hands and someone had a gnarly bottle of vodka somewhere in the room.

JJ was standing against the counter in front of you, your arms wrapped securely around his chest as his hand lightly traced the skin of your leg. You lazily leaned against him, glancing at your hand every so often to see the gems staring back at you. JJ would smile each time and squeeze your knee. You didn’t want to leave his side, and thankfully none of your friends would even try.

The scroll that John B had snagged from the mercenaries was laid across the table, Pope’s eyes looking over it closely. Cleo was snuggled into his side, whispering her own thoughts and ideas as they looked over the paper.

Kie handed you the newly lit joint. “To the happy couple,” She offered, bowing for emphasis which had you and JJ laughing.

You took it between your fingers and raised it to your lips to inhale before the blond boy in your arms turned to face you. You shook your head, already knowing where he was going before glancing to see where John B was in the room. Noticing he was occupied with Sarah, you took a deep inhale and held it for a moment before leaning to connect your lips to JJ’s, exhaling the smoke into his mouth.

“Oh, you assholes.” The protest came from Kiara who was still standing next to you, her face contorted in disgust.

You didn’t care though, and when JJ’s eyes met yours, the whole world disappeared. This was the start of your future together, of a new chapter in your lives that outweighed any before, and you were so excited to share it with him.

Kie rolled her eyes and took the joint back from you, pausing long enough to squeeze your arm. “Love you guys.”

“We love you, Kie,” You replied, giving her an appreciative smile before she walked away. JJ pulled the bottle of champagne from next to you and took a hefty sip, attempting to focus on the scene in front of him. 

“So, what are we supposed to do with this? It looks like a trippy mosaic.” Sarah pointed to the map in confusion, unable to read a single thing on the worn paper. 

“Decode it,” Your boyfriend, fiancé, answered her question. “That’s what we’re supposed to do.” He shifted out of your embrace to approach the table. You followed his motions to stand next to him, taking in the confusing document before you wrapped JJ’s jacket tighter around you.

“But…how?”

“With the code breaker, that’s how.” JJ plucked the joint back from Kiara’s fingers as he spoke. He took a hit before passing it to John B who did the same. You watched as your brother unconsciously passed it to Sarah, the blonde girl taking it into her grasp absentmindedly. 

You and Kiara acted instantly; Kie gave her a weird look as you cleared your throat in warning. Sarah’s eyes widened and she apologized, moving to hand the item back to Kiara, almost burning her in the process. Cleo watched the three of you skeptically, always paying attention, unlike the boys around you. You caught her eyes on you and opened your mouth to explain.

Thankfully, something clattered outside, creating enough of a distraction to save you all from an awkward explanation.

“What was that?” Pope asked quietly, silence overtaking the room. JJ shifted slightly, moving to stand in front of you as all eyes looked out the back windows where the commotion was coming from. 

To your dismay, the boys moved first, JJ’s shirt slipping out of your hold as you took a step toward Cleo, Kie shifting closer to Sarah. 

“I knew we shouldn’t have come back here,” Kie whispered as JJ and John B grabbed nearby ores in hopes of having some defense over whatever was out there. Cleo plucked her knife from her side, twirling it expertly between her fingers. You admired her bravery, as she was never one to let fear show on her face. 

Kiara tossed John B’s flannel over the map, a poor attempt at hiding it, but you guessed it was better than nothing. 

“What are you doing?” Pope was startled as John B slowly pushed open the door, a creaking noise filling the room. 

“Anything?” JJ asked a little bit louder when all you could hear were the animals chirping away outside. 

“No, nothing. That’s so weird.” Your brother slowly closed the doors. “It kind of sounded like it was-”

A loud crashing noise pulled a scream from Kie, all of you gasping in shock as none other than Chandler Groff stumbled his way inside.

Cleo’s grasp on your arm lightened but she held her knife steady toward the man as he gave mumbled apologies. If your heart wasn’t racing before, it sure as shit was now. 

The unwelcome visitor turned his attention to the boy behind you. “JJ. You made it. I uh, I’m sorry to bother you here. I swam, I swam all the way in.”

“Oh my god,” Sarah breathed in shock, taking the opportunity to move closer to John B for comfort.

You turned to see JJ’s expression drop, annoyance taking over all his features as he watched the man who claimed to be his real dad lean against the doorway. “What are you doing here?”

Groff shook his head, clearing his throat with a loud cough that made you flinch. “I had nowhere… nowhere else to go, son.”

The name made JJ wince slightly and you suddenly wanted to rewind to 5 minutes ago when all of you were much happier and celebrating something positive. You watched carefully as his face went stoic and he leaned the ore against the wall, shifting past you to loop an arm under Groff’s and help him inside. 

John B turned to you with a look and all you could really do was shrug in response. You obviously weren’t thrilled with what was supposed to be a night for the two of you was suddenly out of your hands. 

Groff clambered messily into a chair as JJ went to reach for water from the fridge. You stood quietly, watching the scene with uncertainty. Sarah had come to join your other side, Cleo still on guard next to you. She didn’t trust this man, and honestly, neither did you. And now he’s running to you guys for help?

You walked up to JJ, your palm easing across his back to his shoulder blades. He didn’t seem happy about Groff being here, making you question what had happened on Goat Island before you arrived. Neither of you really had a chance to talk about it, and you regretted not checking in with him prior.

“Is it true?” Your question was quiet, meant to be shared with only you and JJ. Unfortunately, it wasn’t.

“Is it true that I’m JJ’s biological father? Yes.”

Your gaze was sharp as you regarded the man sitting just across from you. “I wasn’t asking you.”

Groff sighed and looked down. “I don’t deserve the title. And you have a right not to trust me, I understand. I could’ve done better by him, I know that. I look forward to telling you all about it.”

JJ shook his head, turning toward you so he didn’t have to stare at the sight in front of him and could redirect his gaze on you. Your hand dropped from his back, unconsciously following down his arm so you could twist your fingers with his, keeping him close. 

“I’m afraid time is short. We’re all in danger here. Let me guess,” He pointed over your shoulder to where John B had tossed the tube that contained the rolled map. “You open that packing tube over there and find a scroll inside, but you can’t read it. That scroll is encrypted.”

“How do you know that?” John B returned.

“Because if you took that from the Corsairs, I suspect that you are in possession of the Mogador scroll, created by Barbary pirates in 1703. The Lupine Corsairs are dangerous mercenaries. Now you’ve stolen from them.”

You rolled your eyes, having zero interest in this man’s monologue. If you were in danger, having him here did not help in the slightest. 

“Okay, so what exactly is this Mogador?” Pope asked. If anyone could put together the pieces of this, it would be him.

“It’s…a map.”

Cleo almost groaned next to you. “We aware of that, man. To where?”

Groff continued, “Well, if I knew the answer to that, I’d be a very rich man. But I can tell you who made it. Murad the Younger.”

The name sparked in your head, familiar but not quite recognizable. You glanced at John B to see him already looking at you. “Murad?” He repeated. 

“Oh, you know him? Groff asked, looking between the two of you. “Barbary pirate, slaver. In 1703, a Berber shepherd gave Murad a gold coin as tribute. He asked the shepherd where he’d gotten the coin, and after some persuasion, the Berber told him about a hidden vault in the desert filled with gold. And one other very special item.”

“The Blue Crown,” John B answered softly.

Groff turned to him, curious. “So, you know what it is?”

Sarah cleared her throat purposefully as your brother tried to back track. “Uh, it’s uh… my dad was a historian.”

“It was practically a bedtime story,” You tried to reinforce John B’s excuse and shot him a look.

“What is it though? The crown thing?” Kie asked as she pulled herself up on the table next to Sarah. 

“A mythical artifact,” Groff explained, “And if you trust the legends, a dangerous weapon capable of granting wishes and rendering enemies defenseless.”

You almost scoffed at the ridiculous reasoning, but Cleo was happy to voice her skepticism, “And you believe that?”

Groff shook his head. “No, of course not, but it’s invaluable. I’m looking for it just like you, and if I could help you find it, I’d… just want to get my cut. Nothing more.”

“If they found it 300 years ago, there’s no way that magic cap is still there,” JJ said, his foot nudging yours gently. 

“Maybe, maybe not. See Murad was encamped in Essaouira, in what’s now Morocco. Before he had a chance to follow the map, it was stolen by a young woman named Elizabeth Howell, who later became Blackbeard’s future wife. He helped her elude her captors, and the two of them escaped to the Carolinas with the map. The rest of their lives they wondered, was there really a vault in the desert that held the crown? On the day he died-”

“He left Elizabeth with the map,” Sarah cut him off, her boredom winning as you all listened to this man ramble. 

Groff nodded. “And now, you have it. But you can’t read it, right? You need a lens, a special lens. A piece of refracted crystal encased with a chain. Elizabeth Teach had that lens when she was killed at Blackstone.”

You exchanged a glance with JJ before facing Chandler. “So, let me guess. You uh, you have that lens.”

He made a dramatic effort to act all upset and looked down. “Not in my possession, no. But I know where it is.”

JJ squeezed your hand slightly. “Where?”

“Your mother’s grave.”

You groaned softly, dropping JJ’s hand to cover your face and rub at the skin like it could wash away all of your annoyance with this conversation. All of this history talk was making your brain hurt and you really, really didn’t like that you’d lost this entire night to JJ’s supposed dad who had no business showing up here. 

“I, um, I’m gonna go to bed,” You excused yourself, giving JJ a rushed kiss before almost running out of the room. Various chatter followed your departure, but you swung yourself up the stairs without another word. Stopping in John B and Sarah’s room to grab your clothes from earlier, you were quick to change into the comfy attire and retreat to your hammock on the balcony, wanting nothing more than peace and quiet. 

“Babe?” JJ wasn’t very far behind you, coming out to stand over you as you settled into the material. “You okay?”

You sighed, hands rubbing at your tired eyes as the alcohol and weed wore off, leaving you slightly buzzed and just tired. “Yeah, just didn’t wanna keep listening to him.”

JJ reached out for you, his hand grabbing yours as you swayed slowly. “This is not how I imagined this night going. Was supposed to celebrate with you, in every way possible.” He leaned down to rub his nose against yours gently, eliciting a small laugh before you kissed him softly.

“Not your fault,” You whispered. “Please tell me someone’s down there with him.”

JJ brushed a hair from your face gently. “Pope’s picking his brain while Cleo plays guard dog. Sarah said she needed to talk to John B.”

You nodded, hoping she was talking to him about what you thought she would be. “Are you okay?”

The hesitation told you that no, he wasn’t, but he didn’t know what else to do. JJ took the opportunity to slide into the hammock next to you, practically flopping on you so his head rested on your chest, and you welcomed the embrace. He was so warm against you and you truly cherished the moment as the first one you two had shared alone after the proposal.

“Love you,” You whispered quietly, leaning to kiss his head as your fingers sorted through his hair. 

“Love you too.”

--

John B was a shit liar. You had been able to clock him so easily growing up, and unfortunately (for him), Sarah was just as good at it.

So when Sarah came into the room and very shakily asked to talk to him, he was nervous. He didn’t know what she was going to ask, or say, and he wasn’t mentally prepared. But she seemed really scared, so he couldn’t say no. 

“I’m pregnant.”

The words practically smacked him in the face, his whole body going into shock as he tried to wrap his head around the concept. Sarah, his Sarah, pregnant. 

“You’re pregnant?” He repeated the phrase, keeping his tone as neutral as possible even though a little bit of shock slipped in. He wasn’t sure how she felt about this and wanted to tread carefully. She was teary and nodded. “You’re… pregnant?”

“Mhmm,” She answered, her whole body filled with nerves. Sarah had been through so much shit, but she could confidently say this was the scariest moment of her life that regarded her relationship with John B.

The idea was starting to visualize in his head and he nodded. “We’re pregnant.”

Sarah’s heart clenched in her chest. “Yeah.”

“O-okay. Um…”

“I’m really, really scared,” She admitted shakily, “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to do this, I know you don’t know how to do this. And we’re… so young. And I know the timing’s probably terrible. And I know you and JJ wanna go after that crown, but-”

“Hey, come here. I’ve got you.” John B shushed her, gently pulling her into his lap as she sobbed, terrified of what was to come. 

She sunk into his arms, shaking as she hugged him tightly against her. “I’m just really scared, I was really scared to tell you, but your sister said I should, and…”

John B nearly choked on his own air at the mention of you knowing. “She knows?”

Sarah pulled back a little to look at him, nodding. “Yeah, she’s the first one I told.”

Your brother nearly threw up at the idea, knowing you hadn’t told him which meant you’d been keeping enough bottled up since whenever you found out. “Oh, shit.”

Sarah frowned at his identical reaction to Kie. “What?”

John B shook his head. “No, nothing, it’s-”

“No.” Sarah gave him a particular look, one that froze him in his spot and usually got her the answer she was looking for. “Why does everyone react with oh shit when they hear that she knows?”

John B took a deep breath and weighed his options. Either he told Sarah the truth and sent her into a guilty spiral with the information, or he told her to ask you and watched her feel even worse when the news came from you.

“I um…” John B tilted his head back with a sigh, keeping his hands anchored on Sarah’s hips to hold her steady as she repeated his name. “She… when we were at the church, in Charleston, I asked her what had happened before we left. I didn’t know it was Rafe at the time, but she started asking me all these questions about our conversation on the ferry and kids, and-”

“John B,” Sarah interrupted him softly, recalling his focus.

“She can’t…she can’t have kids.”

Sarah’s heart nearly shattered in her chest and the tears built up all over again. “What?” Her voice cracked as she looked at John B, his own eyes teary at the repetition of your conversation in his head. “Are.. is she sure?”

John B nodded. “It was, after everything with Rafe, when we were gone a-and-”

Sarah stood abruptly, her brother’s name enough to make her lunch threaten to come back up. “I’ve gotta talk to her.”

“Wait, wait!”

John B took off after her, following her rushed steps as she climbed the stairs with the intention of getting to you. “Sarah, wait!”

Sarah wished she had listened. She wished she had taken a moment to stop and think about what she would say to you, because the moment she opened your door, she was met with JJ’s raised voice. She was met with JJ, standing in the middle of the room, his loud frustration directed at your crying form that was across from him.

But that wasn’t what made Sarah so nervous.

It was the pregnancy test, the one she had taken earlier, in JJ’s hand, the two positive lines staring back at her as he pointed it at you with an intention that made her want to throw up. 

And when Sarah made eye contact with you, she realized how truly, truly fucked up this whole thing was about to be.

--

a/n: so.... i'm sorry?

anyway, listen to how much do you love me by kelsea ballerini

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[harmonysanreads]

hi! i love the way you write aventurine, could you give me some tips on writing for him bc im struggling her to grasp his character :(

if you don’t have the time then that’s alright!

Hello, nonnie. Thank you so much :') Since you didn't mention whether this was in the Yandere context or not, I'll list some general tips. I hope you find these helpful!

— FOR BASIC CHARACTERIZATION

One of the most important aspects of Aventurine is that he's insanely smart, but they always sign it off with luck at the other side of the equation. This is intentional of course and whether or not luck really is the ultimate deciding factor isn't really the question we should be pondering about for a video game. Everything Aventurine does is through careful strategizing, scheming and calculating. What you need to remember is that ‘luck’ is more like a protective layer on top of it all. When deciding upon a plot, try your best to keep Aventurine's intelligence in mind. Then you can seal it off by using ‘luck’ in classic Aventurine style, or use dramatic irony with this point.

I think, for Aventurine, having a reader who surprises him is very convenient. It doesn't need to be a head-on challenge, sometimes the strongest impressions are made through silence and passivity. Remember, Aventurine is an incredibly observant character. For example : when he offers the Trailblazer ten thousand Credits after their first encounter, if you refuse politely, he becomes extremely pleased, as opposed to his somewhat miffed reaction if you pick the other option.

As you know, he's often partial to extremes. His ‘all or nothing’ motto can be useful to stir inner conflict.

Body language is very important for building his character. Instead of writing a whole paragraph about how beneath his bravado, he's always scared of losing, they conveyed much more through revealing the fact that he hides his left hand behind his back during all daring gambles. Aventurine isn't the type to be upfront about emotions that can make him vulnerable — that's detrimental to survival. So I think you can reveal those emotions through body language.

He's a very... unconventional gambler. His tendency to pose things as gambles and bets is more like a shield than anything. In any case, it makes for a great tool in adding drama.

— FOR DIALOGUE

Aventurine is a pretty complex character so I often forget certain things if I don't stay in practice, listening to his voicelines really helps me get a quick refresh in those cases. There's this channel on YouTube that compiles the characters' scenes individually, it's very helpful.

I think we all can agree one of Aventurine's greatest strengths is how he weaponizes words against others. There's more to this though. Be mindful to the upward and downward inflections in his sentences, the pauses between phrases and which words he's putting emphasis on.

He's also an interesting mix of straight-forward and roundabout. He says he prefers people to be direct and he often is direct himself. But with his ‘insults’ in particular, he's very roundabout. By the time you realize what he just said, it's already too late to shoot a comeback and he has you exactly where he wants.

— MISC. TIPS

Keep his backstory in mind and be respectful to it, but don't let it stop you from experimenting.

He has religious trauma, survivor's guilt, trust and commitment issues, as well as a complicated attachment style. Do you research on how these things affect people in relationships.

Aventurine's arc hasn't ended, which is why many things about him aren't definite. Consider how you might use it to your advantage.

[gretchenantwort]

the original post of this thread is all about the women the op kept finding about: women who only begin dressing androgynously after identifying as nonbinary. if you "don't see" the point in what op was saying, then i don't see why you replied to her in te first place.

you mistake what the wrong pronouns are. they are meant to refer to people by their sex. if your issue isn't your sex but rather your gender, whatever that is, then you have no reason to complain.

you're not getting mad over "being called steve when you aren't steve". you're getting mad over being called your name, over being referred to when others are talking about you and not talking with you. if your name is steve it's pretty fucking stupid to demand others call you john just because you prefer that name or whatever.

you were a little kid and everyone is supposed to take a child's delusional feelings as more important than reality? be for real.

language is meant to be in accordance with reality because that simplifies communication, the point of language.

if you think in reality we should call people what they want to be called no matter what reality actually is, then you think it's right to apply the wrong words to the wrong things. if we can call everything by something else, then communication becomes unusable and definitions lose their meaning. an attempt at communication turns into nothing. it's interesting how trying to break down the entire purpose of language is so useful! except, of course, for marginalized groups, who need effective communication the most.

i mean, must we really go back to the "what is a woman" question? perhaps we do, since you don't seem to acknowledge reality.

seeing women come out as nonbinary and then start just dressing a certain way. and I just want to tell them that you can not shave and have short hair and not wear makeup and wear androgynous clothes and still be a woman. and the fact that people are trying to sell you the idea that you can’t look that way and still be a woman is misogynistic

[lovemomhatepolice]

oscar piastri nswf alphabet (part 2) (minors DNI!)

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N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Oscar is clear about his boundaries, both for himself and his partner. He absolutely refuses to engage in anything that seems coercive or disrespectful. Anything that involves humiliation, pain without prior discussion or crossing emotional boundaries is off the table. He rejects dishonesty in expressing desires and needs - open communication is crucial to him. Mutual comfort and consent always come first.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Oscar is the type who doesn't choose whether he prefers to get or give. He knows that it flows from both sides and he really likes to stick to it. He's quite experienced, so he tries to catch what you like and loves to see your reaction. He's also a big fan of how you give something of yourself and go on your knees in front of him. He loves it when he can weave his fingers into your hair.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Rather, he is the type who focuses on the sensuality of the whole act. Oscar likes privacy, peace and quiet. He loves how you have sex in a quiet place, away from people and the speed of the whole world. He likes to take his time, likes to focus on what he is doing and give you all the pleasure possible. But he also happens to be more freaky - for example, when you are both after alcohol, then he fires up harder. You're both in a torrent of electrifying glances at each other, an even heavier air than usual. Then his reins let go and he's not so laid back anymore

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Oscar doesn't mind quick numbers, especially when time is tight or the moment is too irresistible to ignore. He loves the thrill and spontaneity of stealing a few hot minutes together, especially if it happens in an unexpected place. However, he doesn't want them to replace more intimate and drawn-out moments, because he values the deeper connection they bring.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) He does not like risks. Oscar is such a balanced and secretive man that he wouldn't allow himself or you to take risks, such as being set upon by other people. He values his privacy too much to allow that to happen. And when it comes to risks, like lack of security, he's also rather against it. You're both young, so he wouldn't want a slip-up to happen to you

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) Oscar surprises with his stamina - he may seem laid back and relaxed, but when it comes to intimacy, he has impressive stamina. He can easily go two or three rounds in one session if the mood is right, with enough energy to make it exciting each time.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) It's not for him. Oscar is not fascinated by such toys. He's not against it - after all, everything is for people, but he doesn't need it. He thinks the same when it comes to your sex - he doesn't use any “boosters”. However, if you own something, he is not against you showing him…

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Oh, Oscar is a tease one. He loves to tease you, driving you crazy. All day long he can hook you up - whisper something naughty, touch you not-so-subtly on the butt or look at you with that one pattern he reserved especially for you. But rest assured, as unbearable as he is with this, he immediately returns the favor and does it brilliantly

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Maybe in everyday life Oscar is not very talkative and seems secretive, but I beg you. When things move to your bedroom, bathroom, living room, whatever - Oscar is unrecognizable. He turns into a whining mess, constantly whispers sweet nothings (or the less sweet ones) in your ear, and you could swear that's the moment when he's at his loudest

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) I have already mentioned that Oscar is a master of aftercare. But how he loves it when you take the initiative and take care of him! Mostly he prefers to do it, but when you wash him or prepare his favorite food, or god forbid, stroke his hair and back, well he is in paradise

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) Hm, Oscar is rather normal sized. He's not very big, but he's definitely not small. For you, it's perfect and in any position you feel it filling you up quite as it should

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) Mm, his sex drive is stable. He's not too demanding and doesn't expect sex from you all the time, but he doesn't have little of it either. It all depends on the time he is currently in. If he happens to have more free time and you're next to him, he doesn't take his hands off you. Although he does it respectfully and does not impose himself, you know very well what he wants by those shining eyes of his

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) He only falls asleep when he knows the aftercare has been properly done. He tries to fall asleep only when you are already sleeping safely next to him, but he happens to fall asleep before you do. This is especially true when you are the one cuddling him close, rather than him cuddling you. Then he doesn't need much - but he tries

A/N: part one if anyone missed it!!

I encourage you to give requests in the Christmas marathon! click here :) and in my celebration to the first thousand!

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[octahyde]

Ok actually one thing that really really bothers me about how widespread people are negatively reacting to the anime just for the fact that anime onlys are going to be in the fandom is like

This is going to make TWST so much more accessible

Like… not everyone can sit down for several hours and read a visual novel. It’s very time and focus intensive. Not everyone can read logs of the dialogue on wikis, either. There are several people who are unable to enjoy this story based solely on medium. A good example is my qpp; he loves TWST. He loves the story. He loves the characters. But he can’t get past Book 3 because the format is completely inaccessible to him. He’s tried. I’ve tried with him. He just… cannot do it. The novels are a godsend because it’s a way he can finally read the story in a format that works for him. The anime will also help a lot because he’ll be able to hear the voice acting, which is a very important part of TWST’s story telling.

Or even just in general, I don’t think I need to post about how I Like Horror, but I am unable to read anything longer than a short story. In particular, I am almost fully unable to read King because of how incompatible his writing style is- despite really wanting to. I have tried and failed to read Pet Sematery more times than I can count. The 80’s movie, though? I love it. It lets me experience a very important work to the genre in ways I would otherwise be completely unable to. Same with Misery.

Like… it’s super frustrating to see people advocate for story accessibility in things like video games, only to turn around and say “except for things I LIKE, they’ll get my favs wrong!!!” Especially when it’s in a fairly inaccessible medium.

I especially have a bone to pick with Idia fans I see on Twitter doing this. There’s a lot of fear “normies” will be ableist about their favorite cartoon character, while… in the process being extremely ableist to actual human beings. It’s extremely frustrating and upsetting to see people prioritize their (heavily mentally disabled, I might add) favorite fictional character over actual irl disabled people. I don’t think people, especially autistic people who can’t do VNs, should be limited from a beautiful story just because other people you can block Might Make Incel Jokes.

(My qpp? He’s autistic. And schizophrenic. And has CPTSD. He relates a LOT to Idia just from what I’ve told him about her and her arc.)

Like… get your fucking priorities straight. I was hyperfixated on Danganronpa when the DR1 anime came out. I was hyperfixated on Persona 4 when the P4 anime came out. Ace Attorney has been one of my absolute favorite series since middle school, and I was going through my obligatory hyperfixation phase I have every few years when the AA anime came out. I massively prefer the YuGiOh manga to the DM anime.

Anime onlys are EXTREMELY easy to avoid and are not the fucking end of the world.

Especially in a fandom with so many autistic people. Have some empathy for disabled people who have different symptoms than you do.

[yoyomomiko]

THANKYOUSO MUCH for being one of the very few mouthwashing users who write for anya… !!!!!! im a major major girlkisser and i don’t see a lot of people write for her 😔😔like… please i jus wanna stare at her all day and kiss her hold her hand n stuff… compliment her all day DO U GET ME!!!

anyway thankyew im eating up ur works as we speak ☝️

Pairings: Anya x F!reader

HC: showing affection with anya!!

Warnings: cringe, not proofread, probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!

(A/N): OMG OMG YESSSS, I've barely seen any people write for her😔😔😔 I'LL TRY TO DO SOME OF US JUSTICE THO!! This is also kinda short and so boring😣 -> m.list

★RECEIVING FROM YOU

God she's so embarrassed

IF IT'S IN FRONT OF THE CREW THO, because if you're alone she's ALLLLL over you

I feel like Anya isn't a big fan of showing affection in public, so she doesn't really like it when you do any of that in front of others😔

When you're alone with her?

Phew

HOLD HER. KISS HER. CUDDLE WITH HER. HUG HER. COMPLIMENT HER. OH LORD JUST UGHHHH

I feel like she prefers it when you cuddle up with her and stroke her hair. She feels so cared for and so loved, so safe, she never wants to let go.

She doesn't care if you like words of affirmation more than physical affection, she's okay with both as long as nobody sees you😋👍

Hold. Her. Hand.

She likes it so much when you just clasp your hands together, it feels so intimate for her and it's just so UGH.

If you're a VERY like, clingy and affectionate person or whatever, she's gonna be a bit flustered and overwhelmed at first.

But then she gets used to it and loves it when you just throw all your love onto her😚

She's a major girlkisser too idc what you say

I'm only saying that because I like her but uhm🙄

Anyways

She also prefers you to be the one who showers her with love, she just likes being taken care of

★RECEIVING FROM HER

Anya sometimes surprises you with how much she does for you

She prefers physical affection rather than words of affirmation, she's too shy to speak her heart out.

At least at the start of the relationship, because later she's not gonna have ONE problem being just, so romantic with you to the point YOU blush.

She likes kissing you so much, I'm not even kidding

I feel like she likes it more when she's the one kissing you, like, as in a peck on the cheek or something

Also, she WILL give you a good morning AND good night kiss.

Scratch that, she'll kiss you any chance she gets😌

Big on hugs

Giving you hugs to be more specific

She loves loves LOVES comforting you, she's just so good at it

Surprisingly good at making you feel safe in her arms, genuinely has you questioning a lot

If you're on the Tulpar with her, she sadly won't even hold your hand in front of others😔

I also feel like she just gets these random bursts of confidence during her breaks, hunts you down and slams you against the wall to make out with you

But after she apologizes for being so harsh and blunt with you

I mean, honey, I do NOT mind.

Please proceed

Anywayssss

She's a little shy when it comes to compliments, but like I said, she just needs some time to get used to all that and open up more

ANYA ONE CHANCE PLEASEEEEE🙏

★yoyomiko ★miko

[kousanosgf]

men, minors dni

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

sevika x f!reader

you take care of sevika when both of you decide to spend the night at the club

tags: fluff, lap dance, oral (sevika receiving), fingering (sevika receiving)

an: was written while i was listening to my soft/chill tyla and rosalia playlist, keep it in mind for the atmosphere (⁠⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

the night was still young but the party was in a full swing. you were not yet drunk on the alcohol but the atmosphere and music made you euphoric. you were dancing for the past hour, the gentle beats of the drums, mbiras and xylophones, guitar string that jumped from upbeat to more sensual led your body. it was something you preferred more than the hard electronic noise of other clubs, which were more common in zaun.

though something or someone was missing. you left the dancefloor, making your way to the bar. a bartender nudged a glass of water your way and you took it in one swing, thankful to the woman.

hands captured your waist from behind, one real and the other mechanical, a body pressed close to your back.

"vika", you smiled and reached your hand back, sliding a palm on sevika's neck. "i'm all sweaty". you wrinkled your nose smiling.

"you often are when we're together", the woman whispered in your ear with heat but it only made you laugh. sevika was in your favorite drunk mood: touchy and blabbering sweet nonsense.

"missed you", she sighed heavily, like you didn't came here together. "well, someone could've dance with me". sevika only huffed out, grumpy, making you giggle again.

you signaled to a bartender for a new set of drinks. as you untangled yourself from sevika's grip you took the glasses, pushing one in her hand. "come on, baby", you moved away from the bar to the private booths, choosing one and closing the heavy curtains.

the booth was nice, muted colours, little trinkets hanging here and there, inviting soft and, mostly important for саун, clean pillows. sevika plopped down on the seat, drowning in the cushions.

she was too quiet today, not that she would run her mouth nonstop in your or anyone else's presence, but definitely more quite than usual. "what's wrong?", you poked her gently in the side as you took your place beside her. she just grumbled in response. okay, so no reason really, you blamed alcohol for her attitude.

"did you watch me dance?", you try to get her mind out of the dark places. you put your knees under yourself to sit a little higher to be able to put your arm around her shoulders. she leaned into your embrace.

"barely. too much people", sevika answers, clearly sulking over the fact.

she never was the one to care for parties and definitely not participating in them, usually preferring some dimly lit bars and a long card game. but ever since you appeared in her life she made sure to follow you around to the clubs. "just care for your safety, princess", sevika would say. and that's a solid reason, zaun can be harsh on anyone, so noone would say no to a woman like sevika taking a role of a bodyguard. in this case though she *loved* seeing you move as if the dancefloor was your natural habitat, your home.

"been staring at me the whole night from your dark corner. people probably think you're some creep", you joked everytime later, when you went back home or moved somewhere private, like today.

"let me make it up to you", you untangle yourself from her and climb on her lap. sevika's real hand immediately gribs your thighs, running up to cup your ass cheek.

"no touching, babe. it's a performance." you smile and slap her hand away playfully. sevika frowns but doesn't try to do anything else.

you let your hair down, slowly dragging the hair band. the muffled music changed to something more slow, fortunately setting the right mood, you hummed the tune.

sevika's gaze was turning heated and hungry by a second, following your hands as they dragged on you body, starting with you hips, going up to your sides, to your neck, tangling in your hair and moving back, all while you swayed from side to side, making waves with your torso, coming closer and father to press against sevika's body.

"don't be mean", she whined under you after couple of songs, her fingers twitching in a need to touch.

and you were being mean, you knew that. you just couldn't help yourself to tease your girlfriend when she was so cute, all mushy and relaxed.

"told you, i'll make it up to you", you leaned closer, whispering in her ear.

the sound of a zipper opening is too loud. you can feel yourself on edge already. but this is not about you. you raise your eyes, looking over sevika's face. her eyes arr closed, she's breathing heavily. she's beautiful like that, she always is, really. but something about her soft expression, how relaxed she is under you awakens butterflies in your stomach.

her hands grip your waist as you move to stand up, holding you on her lap.

"come on, vika", you protest and push her hair out of her face. "if you want something, i gotta stand up". she let's you but complains while she does it.

you slide down on the floor, sitting on your knees now in front of her. sevika feels a tap on her hips and raises them to let you make a quick work of taking off her pants and underwear.

she's not wet enough yet, you notice as you slide your fingers between her folds but it's not much of a problem. you love taking it slow with her, spending all the time in the world leaving kisses and light bites on her inner thighs, while your hands roam around her body, squeezing her waist, feeling her muscles, your fingers traveling up and down the hair on her stomach.

"please" sevika whines and that's exactly what you were waiting for, that's how you know she's ready.

you move closer, though it feels like you can't be even more, skin touching skin. your fingers slide with ease inside of her and you feel like you're the one who needs to moan in pleasure. her pussy is hot, clenching around your digits.

"so good, baby. so pretty". you praised her because how could you not. sevika holds herself from moving too much so she wouldn't mess up the game you're playing, her hips staying in place but already trembling.

"don't even need to tell you what to do, yeah? always know what i want from you".

at last, as you move the tips of your fingers inside of her, you put your mouth on her. your tongue flat, you try to get as much as you can, starting from the place your fingers connect with her hole, going up, pressing on her clit and dragging it to her press. the sounds she makes are heavenly, sevika is so worked up she moans loudly, arching her back. you sure if anyone stands right outside the booth, they could hear it. it only makes you want her more, to make her scream that everyone in the club would know how weak she's for you. the woman who scares every thug on the streets of this city turns into a soft and whiney mess in your arms. that kind of power makes you dizzy.

you suck on her clit, hollowing your cheeks to put more pressure.

"wait", sevika breaths out.

"what's wrong, baby? already ready to cum?"

both of you want it to last so you give her time, withdrawing your lips and fingers completely and going back to caressing her inner thighs.

"gonna eat you out so good, gonna make you feel so good, vika."

her hands press on your head when she decides she's ready, guiding you back to her dripping cunt.

"need to promise me one thing, though", you smile as she nods without questions.

"look at me, 'kay? don't close your eyes."

you return to where you stopped. you try to be soft and careful at first, kissing her folds, occasionally flicking your tongue between them or pressing it on her clit, all while you hold her gaze. you smirk and huff out as her eyes remind you of some sad puppy, asking for more.

"fuck", she swears as you quicken you moves, getting messier. you can swear that's where you belong. between her thighs, squeezing your head so all the noise becomes muffled, like you're underwater, your tongue deep inside of her and your nose rubbing her clit.

it's cute, you think, how obedient she is for you, still trying to look you in the eyes, as you asked her, fighting the need to roll them back and just arch her back, leaning her head on the sofa back.

your face is drenched in her juices, few drops falling on the floor between your knees. you're so worked up, your panties are probably all wet but your pleasure isn't a top priority now. and honestly seeing sevika brake under your mouth is pleasurable enough.

as you feel her squirming and moaning more and more, you know she's close, so you put your arms under her knees and raise them on your shoulders. she never lets you do it while she still can control the situation, worried that it's too much for your smaller frame. but now sevika is going crazy with her own pleasure and you don't have to deny yourself.

it takes her couple more seconds to cum finally. her eyes roll back and she gives herself a moment of weakness as she throws her head back but quickly returns back to hold your gaze when she remembers your request.

you guide her through her orgasm, slowing your moves and letting go of her legs.

"relax, sweetheart", you laugh as you finally tear yourself from her pussy and climb back in her lap. your hand covers her eyes and you feel her eyelashes flutter, tickling your palm.

"you're a dream, vika."

sevika reaches for your lips and you meet her halfway through. the kiss is slow and sloppy, both of you need time to get some air and steady your breath. her cheeks now wet too. it does something to you, seeing her own juice on her face, makes you want more of her.

"fuck, vika. gonna destroy you when we get home. promise."

[writingwithfolklore]

How to Ask for Stuff

Being able and knowing how to ask for things that you want is an incredibly important skill for… y’know, getting what you want. Whether it’s mentorship, feedback, an explanation or quick advice, networking, a job, etc. etc. etc. it's important you ask the right way to have the best chance of success.

There’s three things that should be in your request:

1. Who are you—how are you related?

This should be short and sweet. “I am a university student studying major, and was in professor’s class where you presented last week.” Or “I am a recent graduate looking to get a foothold in blah blah industry, and saw you had a lot of experience on your linkedIn profile.”

You really don’t need more than that to make yourself relevant and create a connection with this person, and it immediately sets you apart as an individual/real person. People are more likely to help people that they feel like they know in some way, rather than a complete stranger. If you are a complete stranger, explain why you decided to reach out to them specifically.

2. What exactly are you looking for

Be as specific as possible. It is far better to say, “I am looking for feedback on the first five pages of my novel, specifically around if the opening grabs the audience.” Than, “I am looking for feedback.”

This part can be a little bit scary because it is the actual asking for what you want part, but if people know exactly what you want, they will find it a lot easier to help you. Other things you can ask for: “I am looking to sit down with you for coffee and discuss your experience in the industry.” Or “I was hoping you may have some leads for where to start with my job search” etc. etc.

3. What will the project/request look like?

This will help the person decide if they have the time or availability to do what you are asking for. If you’re looking to meet with them, include your availability and where or how you are able to meet. If it’s more of a feedback situation, include when you would need notes back by and how you would like to receive said notes. So,

“I am available Monday through Friday after 5pm to meet. Please let me know if you are interested and available within that schedule!”

“If you are interested, I would love the opportunity to get on a Zoom call with you to discuss feedback. I am available any time on weekends, and would prefer if you were able to get back to me by March 1st as I will need time to adjust the piece for the due date.”

Etc. etc.

              It’s important that you maintain a professional and friendly tone, even with people who have already agreed to help you. Some ways of asking for things that I have received that I find very discouraging are:

Disinterested

I got a request that was basically, “help me if you want, I don’t care it doesn’t matter to me either way.” If you don’t care, then why would I care? Only reach out to people you genuinely want to collaborate in some way with, and make clear that you are interested in working with them. We’re not trying to look cool and disinterested here.

Impatient

Everyone is busy all the time. If your person doesn’t reply right away, do not send a message back around the lines of, “um hello??” or “are you going to reply or not?” this comes across as pretty rude and a bit entitled to that person’s time and immediate attention. If your person doesn’t reply, you can send a follow up after a week, and maintain the same tone as in your initial email/message:

“Hi (name), this is a friendly follow-up on my request. If you have any additional questions for me, please let me know. I am also able to accommodate another time slot if needed. Thank you!”

As the asker, it is your job to be flexible. Of course, if your person can’t make your hard deadline or you really can’t make your schedules work, thank them anyway and move on, but if you are able to accommodate them, do so!

Here is an example email to start you off:

Hello (person’s name), My name is (blank) and I am a (major) student/graduate from (blank) University. We met at the (place) job fair last week, and I was really intrigued by your experience in (blah) industry. I was wondering if you would be available to meet with me sometime in the next week to discuss how you got started in the industry and your experience at (company). I am available between (time) and (time) (days of the week), but may be able to accommodate a different time if it would work better for you. Please let me know if you are interested! Thank you, (Full name)

[muletia]

Optimus being jealous of your car? Lmao I can't find it but I once saw a post of cybertronains be jealous of normal humans automotive. Optimus would consider changing his alt form just so he can drive you to the grocery store to. I just find the concept funny of a alien robot holding a grudge to a non sentient object.

bold of you to assume that he wouldn’t give you a ride to the grocery store as a truck. especially if you’d mentioned to him before that trucks are cool and you’d never had the chance to ride in one before you met him. and now you have your very own talking truck that’s always there to help you?? i can totally see reader often telling optimus that he picked a cool alt mode, unknowingly boosting his ego a little. the problem is, if you overdo with the praise, optimus is 100% going to develop a praise kink 💀

tbh, i don’t see him as the possessive/jealous type, but sometimes he has moments where the beef with your car gets fucking real, which is absolutely hilarious. the days when you show up at their base with your car are a nightmare for him, lmao. what do you mean he can’t give you a ride home so you two can listen to jazz together and admire the view out the window :((( he doesn’t let it show at all, but he’s so, so sad about it.

as for jealousy over people, i think he’d be more heartbroken than jealous. of course, you’re bound to prefer someone of your own species, there’s not even the tiniest chance that you see any potential in him as a partner. that’s how it has to be, that’s just how life works.

on the other hand, in a scenario where you’re already a couple, i can imagine rare moments where he might feel jealous or possessive. very, and i mean very rare, though—like, for example, if bumblebee gave you a ride home for some reason. optimus would never admit outright that he was jealous or felt left out, but afterwards he’d suddenly really want to cuddle :)))

[insanewaykathy]

The first point is that for Janeway the problem wasn't having sex with Chakotay, the problem was having feelings for him. She was afraid to be impartial, she was afraid of suffering if something happened to him… of course she would suffer anyway because she loved him as a friend, and romantically (no one can tell me otherwise), but let's be realistic, it's usually harder to make any decision about someone you're romantically involved with.

Regarding the "Janeway can't have sex with her first officer" view, that view is exclusively Kate's, and I don't blame her. Although I really wanted to see them meet at the end, as if after the Admiral came back to take them home, they could have some time inside the ship before actually returning and having a night of love… with sex, with affection, with complicity, with love… because that would reach all the women who have been through toxic relationships with the following message: "They were responsible officers, she would give her life for the crew, he would give his life for her… and they waited for each other because their love was greater than time, and they had sex because they love each other and sex is a good thing!" But instead, the fear was of passing the message to what they considered to be the target audience, that is, MEN from 20 to 40 years old… and what would these men understand? "Look, I knew that at some point she would have sex with him!" If you are a man and you are reading this, I will not apologize to you, stay, and I invite you to just read it without saying "not every man". The problem in the 90s was sexism, and making J/C happen was too much for men to accept. But today we have overcome that. We know that Voyager's largest audience is women. We know that a large part of Progidy's audience is J/Cers. And we know that the couple has matured enough to give us something bigger than subtle hints with double meanings. J/C is the healthiest couple I have ever met, and we need that.

And about Kate being beautiful, sexy and hot, she was! Jeri too, but Jeri was the standard blonde. And the problem that these men have of preferring to see Jeri on TV (the supermodel type with a perfect body) wearing tight clothes, honestly reminds me of bad lovers. Okay, you don't look for hot girls on TV if you already have one by your side 🤣 I'm not saying that someone can't prefer Jeri to Kate, there are tastes and tastes… but doing it just because she is blonder, thinner, taller and has more curves is deceiving yourself, because most real women are more like Kate than Jeri. They are both beautiful, talented and incredible women. But Jeri deserved to be desired and acclaimed for much more than just her physical beauty and standard.

Kate Mulgrew on the way Janeway looks at Seven of Nine: "And I mean, honestly, if you remember Janeway looking at her boots and traveling up the body, I remember that. . . . So to be honest with you, for the first season that I worked with her, I was just staring at her bosoms."

Here's the whole segment:

In the fifth season, an actress was brought onto Star Trek: Voyager by the name of Jeri Ryan, who played the character of Seven of Nine, and she was absolutely stunning.

And she represented sex. I mean, it was absolutely crystal clear. And I mean, honestly, if you remember Janeway looking at her boots and traveling up the body, I remember that.

Now, I was of two minds, 'cause there's nobody in the history of television series who doesn't want their series to be successful. So I understand the need for sex.

But I had hoped against hope that I could bring it in as Janeway without it. I didn't.

I mean, I went to them in the first season and said, "I'm not having sex. I'm not saying, 'Red alert: into my ready room, Chakotay, let's go, let's go, let's go.' I'm not doing that. I have a complement of 165, I've got to get them home, and what? The captain's shtupping again?" You know? And it makes no sense at all.

So Seven of Nine appears, and she's half-human, and she's half-Borg, and she's [makes noise while waving her hands in an hourglass figure]. Right? So to be honest with you, for the first season that I worked with her, I was just staring at her bosoms. Her remarkable figure.

And then I understood that they wanted it to be a mother-daughter thing, but my daughter doesn't look like that. My daughter looks like a beautiful human being. It was a thing of bringing the male demographic. And it was very successful. They certainly liked to watch Seven of Nine, and I don't blame them. Men like that, don't you? Don't you?

—ubookstore, "University Book Store Presents Kate Mulgrew," YouTube, May 31, 2019, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4X2cverYupQ.

The question begins around 51:32.