#that's something i'm going to think more about and flesh out.

[stvrnioloslvt]

hi! I'm the anon from Figure skater!reader and hockey!Matt, please write about them and my soul will be yours

from this request, with a little twist to it...

⊹ ࣪ ˖⋆˚࿔ ── #bringbackdryhumping

❛❛ ⛸️ + 🏒 ❞

-...still some imperfections, but your chemistry is over the roof. good job guys- you hear your coach saying as the ringing in your ears slowly subdues, swallowing down the lump in your throat. carefully, your partner, alexander - called alex by everyone - puts you down, holding you firmly in his arms until he’s sure you’re okay to stand on your own without falling to your feet. training had been hard, and partnership wasn’t easy either, but overall the small appreciation given by your coach was a good sign that you and the man beside you were doing a discrete job, at least.

-alex and baby go rest, i want you both to repeat the routine in about ten minutes. who’s next? ah yes, cherry, come here- and while cherry was ultimately examined by the hawk eye of your coach, you slumped on the bench not-so-gracefully, groaning tiredly.

a hand reached in front of your eyes, shaking a bottle of energade to catch your attention, -doing alright?- you nodded, grabbing the bottle from your partner’s hands. -yeah, ‘m alright, just tired. think coach will let us go after this one?-

-pretty sure she has to, isn’t there the kid’s lesson in twenty minutes or something? she can’t keep us here.- you nodded again, zoning out for a couple seconds before scoffing, murmuring -she might kidnap us, though. throw us in a bag and force us to perform for her 24/7-

alex chuckled, shaking his head before adding -what, make us act like we have the dancing plague?- you turned your head ready to reply, but stopped midtrack as you caught alex’s smile drop slightly, his eyes fixed on his phone. -everything fine?-

his eyes snapped to your face, inhaling deeply before putting his phone back on the bench, shoulders slumping ever so slightly as he ran a hand through his face, nodding mindlessly before saying -yeah, yeah. just the same problems with my girlfriend… i told you i caught her cheating, right?-

-yep, and i still don’t get why you would go back to her.- alex smiled softly, but sadness dripped from his eyes. -and i hope you’ll never know why, baby.- you stood silent at that, turning your gaze back to the rink where cherry had ended her routine with an elegant bow to the imaginary public. your sweet, beautiful best friend. you couldn’t help but remember that time when she, too, got cheated on by her ex boyfriend. she had no problem dumping him on the spot, and had no regret at all after that, which made you question why it was so hard for alex to do. it left you wondering, but never judging.

soon, it was your turn to perform again.

your routine embodied everything you could wish to see in a couple: it was intense, both in the storytelling and the steps. it was intimate, it was soft and hard, fast and slow. limbs twisting around limbs, hands desperately looking for each other, grabbing the flesh of the other. eyes holding eye contact so intensely that many had told you before that they felt like they weren’t supposed to look, almost too embarrassed to witness such a performance, while others were more straightforward in their questions, asking if you and alex were a thing outside of the rink, too.

alex’s left hand held you close to his body while he lifted you by your leg, his right hand on your inner thigh. you counted down the seconds, holding the final pose until your coach screamed -and done!-, breathing out in relief as alex carefully put you down. -you can go home, guys.-

you exchanged a knowing look with your partner, biting back a laugh as he mouthed -no kidnapping- while sliding away gracefully. you shook your head, catching in that moment a small movement at your left outside of the rink. your head snapped towards the source of disruption, stilling as your eyes took in matt’s tense figure, his gaze burning holes through you. you noticed his jaw tightening when alex quickly greeted you goodbye before bolting out of there, ready to get under the warm water as soon as possible.

with a quick nod of his chin towards the locker room he was out of there, not even waiting for you to catch up to him.

-wait- matt! why are you run- mmph!- a strangled sound escaped your lips as matt locked your lips in a heated kiss right as you entered the locker room, pulling back just to mutter -gather all your things, we’re leaving.-

-what? but i have to shower- -don’t care, you can shower at mine- and that’s basically how you found yourself in your current position, straddling matt’s lap on his couch, still wearing your little leotard. your hips rolled smoothly, feeling his boner stir with each stroke.

you sighed in relief as your boyfriend began attacking your neck in kisses and soft nibbles, sucking and licking the same spot over and over again. -fuckin’ hate how touchy he was- he muttered, punctuating each word with a kiss.

it finally doomed you: his tense demeanor, the fiery gaze, the need to pull you out of there as soon as possible. you grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling him back gently until you were eye-to-eye level. -matt, are you… jealous?- his icy eyes bore into yours, pupils blown both in lust and jealousy. -it’d be worrying if i weren’t, don’t you think?-

-matt,- you cooed sympathetically, fingertips tracing his torso and travelling south by the second. -there’s nothing to worry about, i promise. let me…-

-no- he interrupted you, grabbing your wrist to stop you from taking his pants off. you looked at him puzzled, asking -you don’t want to?-

matt stared at the wrist he was holding for a moment before his eyes came back up, a dark smirk on his pretty lips. -oh i do, love, but do you deserve it?- and, as taken back as you were, you couldn’t do anything else than opening and closing your mouth like a dying fish. -i don’t think you do.-

you sucked in a shaky breath, shifting around uncomfortably as more arousal pooled in your thong. cause, even though he was punishing you, you couldn’t deny the effect he had over your body, leaving you yearning for more.

-please,- you whimpered, -it aches.- matt hummed, leaning back against the couch carelessly. on his face was plastered the look of total enjoyment, smirking at your need for his body. -yeah? i guess i could be nice and give you something for that- he concluded huskily, his voice thick with lust. he grabbed your waist, moving you back and forth on his lap, letting you grind on his painfully hard boner. your brows scrunched at the sensation, at this point a hundred percent sure that you had wet your baby blue leotard, but you couldn’t care less. all you wanted was to finally cum, regardless of how, when and why.

your hips picked up the rhythm, head coming down to nuzzle in the crook of his neck as you whined and whimpered, hoping that matt might break character and fuck you like you need him to.

-poor little thing you are, hm? feels good, though, doesn’t it?- you nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck as you got closer to your orgasm, feeling matt’s cock throb in his pants. -c’mon, baby, more- fuck- more, like that.-

-i- oh f-fuck, matt, matt, please…- -let go, love- your body shook in matt’s arms as ripples of pleasure broke through you, leaving you a panting, whining mess, your mascara smudging and running down your cheeks. you sniffled lightly, still shaking from the aftershocks while matt held you lovingly, stroking your hair and wiping away the tears stains from your face.

-did so good, my love, such a good girl, my good girl.-

© stvrnioloslvt

[cipheramnesia]

Hey I'm not a big horror person myself, I get scared very easily, but you're telling me the overuse of cozy has extended to horror?

I genuinely don't know what or where cozy is going, but I decided to poke around and at least find out what it means. The simplest and easiest way to contextualize "cozy horror" is as modern folktales and campfire stories. It's a bit more complicated than all that, but that's kind of the foundations of it.

Alright, so first, my basic searching points to "The H Word: Getting Cozy with Horror" by José Cruz, published in Nightmare in 2021 as the place where it was coined, and seems to be what the few articles trying to define it point to. As far as I can tell, that site is offline, but you can read it archived here. Anyway, this thing breaks it down as "Familiar" (which seems to be primarily described as nostalgia), "Sensuous" (in the sense of stimulating senses - distinct from stimulating emotions), "Distant" (feeling insulated from the frightening elements, or safe), and "Fun" (meaning it tends to resolve without significant emotional or physical trauma). Some of that is me putting words in his mouth, so I'd encourage anyone interested to poke through the article. To me, his examples are what speak more directly. With the exception of "Night of the Creeps" he uses examples like Dracula, gothic horror, IT, the Goosebumps series, Creepshow, and the old Peter Cushing and Vincent Price 70s movies. These examples, to my eyes, all have something of the scary story that gets passed around between adolescents or as online urban legends and sometimes creepy pastas.

Anyway, as with any new idea there's the option of throwing it away and calling bullshit (generally my inclination with "elevated horror"), or taking it more at face value, which I'm a little more inclined towards with "cozy horror." For me, I suppose it's the way the core elements seem close to slightly more old fashioned "thrills and chills" horror that makes me charitably inclined - if you read the article, it's practically dripping with the abstract concept of "the good old days." And that serves as a solid foundation for quite a lot of horror. There's coming of age stories, updated vampire tales, folk horror of all ages, dark fairytales, sure. You know, it fills a useful spot, yeah? It may help that I'm coming from the perspective of a horror movie fan who very ardently seeks out dusturbing and transgressive movies or gouts of blood or warped flesh, without any interest in whether it makes me frightened, that it's easy to see how much enjoyment someone can get out of an evil murder clown which is safely defeated at the end of the day - just like it happens in Killer Klowns from Outer Space.

So it's not quite folktales, but it overlaps and next time a person talks about it you probably know the vibe. However. This subgenres has got a HUGE ASS or, put another way, a big but.

If you clicked through the article first, I imagine your reaction to the first few paragraphs might be something like mine, a knee jerk "this guy doesn't know what the fuck he's talking about." I think that's not correct, but after the cool off period, it's clear that he's either in some kind of a horror media social bubble, or he's not engaging with a lot of the genre. There's a kind of distastefulness about modern horror, described like a friend who changed into a pretentious stranger after college - as if modern horror has become all about emotional shock value, serious psychological torture porn. Which is not only unfair and incorrect, it's myopic. The ugly undercurrent to cozy horror is the overly pleasant and sickeningly kind suggestion that we don't need all this modernity, followed by the paternal recommendation that it's much better if we all just embrace the old traditions. And I don't think that's innate to cozy horror or cozy whatever, more that we don't always realize when we pull some ugly undercurrent of society up with an idea, and like when has horror not had problematic elements right? But there's no ignoring that a drive towards nostalgia, isolation, emotional suppression, and total safety can take a very bad turn in excess.

So that's cozy horror I figure. Interesting branch of folklore, but needs moderation like all things.

[patchworkcuddlebug]

Your Own Personal Demon

[This story contains body horror, non-consensual sexuality, and brief mentions of vomit.]

"And now all you have to do is stand in it!"

I look down at the pentagram, drawn sloppily with table salt and surrounded by freshly lit black candles. The bed had to be pushed aside to make room, the spare bedroom was the only place without a carpet where her parents wouldn't find us.

"Hey, what are you waiting for? You're the one who wanted to do this, right?" Grace says to me, clearly annoyed I haven't done as she said. I remember her being the one to breach the topic, explaining to me how fun it would be to have a volunteer, ignoring my hesitation. Susan was just on her phone, just as she was now.

I suppose I don't have a choice. I've learned many times that compliance is always the safest and easiest option.

I feel a shudder as I step inside. It's just apprehension. I'm just being scared, like she said I would be. Nothing more.

I flinch as I hear a click from Susan's direction. She's pointing her phone right at me. Every time I look at her, I can't help but think about Grace making fun of her for being too skinny. She's just a normal girl, if a bit gloomy, but that's mostly because she doesn't take her hair out of her face very often. She looks like she doesn't want to be here, like always.

"So?" Grace demands attention. "Feel anything yet?" She impatiently shifts her weight onto one side, and her blond hair bounces with her. I still don't know why so puts so much work into it, it's just hair. God, her eyes look so sharp, it... hurts.

I stifle myself, looking away and telling her it's nothing. She takes on an accusatory tone, but with an undercurrent of playfulness so nobody gets mad. "Oh, so I fucked up then?" I try not to look to uncomfortable, she's already poked fun at me too much for being a baby about swearing. "Are you sure you're standing right? Ugh, I really wanted to see something happen..."

She kicks at the outline, only for her foot to catch. The salt is solid, calcified into place. Seeing this, I try to poke at one of the lines with my sock, and it doesn't budge. Oh god, I can't let them see me actually feel worried... w-why does it keep hurting...?

Susan, closest to the door, looks back just in time to see it swing closed. With the hallway light blocked off, there's nothing but the roar of the candles lighting up the room. They're getting brighter.

This... is actually happening, isn't it? Am I going to die?

I look to the other two. I need to leave, to run, but I can't move. My legs are stuck in place, it feels like they're pinned to the ground with needles. I need help, Grace, someone...

She just takes a single step away. She looks... curious. She looks to the door, past Susan. She's not worried for me, she's just scared.

"Hey, I didn't... expect this to work." Susan speaks up. For the first time, she isn't forcing some disaffected monotone. "We need to help her, right? We should-"

Without looking away from me, she gestures to Susan. "No, no, wait..."

She's... smiling. For god's sake, she's...!

My legs buckle and I fall to my knees. This isn't pain anymore. This isn't just some vague burn in my muscles. There's something deep and disgusting welling up inside me, trying to claw its way out. I can feel the longing, the yearning to be free scraping at my chest.

I can't hold it back. I wretch and vomit, and it feels... wrong. I've vomited before, and it wasn't this... thin. It didn't taste like iron. It didn't coagulate so quickly in my mouth.

"Oh my god!" It's Susan. She says something after that, but I can't, I just can't. There's a ripping inside of me, everything shifting and fighting gnawing underneath every inch of skin. It needs to be free, it needs to be let out.

I dig, claw at my forehead, where the gnawing is worst. Scratching my skin away doesn't hurt at all, it can't compare to the depths of my soul being ripped apart. I dig my nails in and rip chucks of flesh away, feeling it peeling and clinging in strands to my face. Finally, some fucking relief. I can still feel them stretching out, fitting through my skull as comfortably as putting your arm through a sleeve. Horns. My horns.

I'm bleeding... so much. I know I just tore away at myself, but it's just gushing out, splattering at my feet and covering my skin. My face must be totally buries already, hidden by a thick layer of my own blood. I... should care more about this, but I just... can't.

The girls are saying something, but I don't care. This is serious, something is wrong. It doesn't feel wrong, but... isn't that the problem? I can already feel the same gnaw at the base of my spine, and all I can do is smile. Oh for fuck's sake, they're still talking?

"I, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I never thought this would work, I never..." She's whimpering. No, she's cowering. She's the one afraid of me. "Please, God, forgive me, I nev-"

"SHUT UP."

I can't hold back, not right now, not anymore. I can't bury myself just to save the feelings of others when I already feel like I'm six feet deep. I can't swallow my pride when I feel like I'm choking. I can't...

That's wrong. I don't want to. I'm not being forced to do anything. Not anymore.

I do everything I can to stand, my joints hissing and popping with every motion. The blood still flows from me, the crimson trailing down my body like a gown.

With a single step into the world, I tower over the little blonde cunt. A head higher at least. I can't tell what face I'm making, and for the first time, I don't care.

"You're not fixing this."

I reach behind me and tear another hole, like I'm ripping a cheap whore's dress. My tail finally tastes the air, no matter how dingy and stagnant it is in stuffy-ass fuckless room. It feels like something that should've been with me the whole time, finally allowed to be free.

I grab her hair by the roots, pull her close, and tongue-fuck her mouth. I can't help but laugh at how pathetic she looks flailing under my grasp. I think she's actually gonna cry. How precious.

I spit her out and toss her on the floor. She hacks and sputters, rubbing at her mouth to try and rub the bloodstains away. I wanna tell her that she'll wish the taste never left when I'm done with her, but that's between her and whatever she prays to for now.

"You." I look at Susan, and she's petrified. She's scared of me, she thinks I can really kill her. No wonder Grace got off to fucking around with me. Not that I'm any less pissed. When I'm done with her she'll never feel big again.

"I don't care about the other bitch. You're the one who summoned me." I take a knee, letting my eyes level with hers.

"What's your first request, Mistress~?"

She's finally smiling, just like me.

[anticidic]

thanks for tagging me @frankenjoly @marichild and @saoirseyun <3 (I meant to do this eventually but three time's the charm)

20 questions for fic writers!

How many works do you have on AO3?

24 (but really 25, but one of them is written by a friend and I am merely a spectator and not really a cowriter)

what's your total ao3 word count?

406,373 words

what fandoms do you write for?

Only Bungo Stray Dogs, though I keep toying with the idea of writing for others (and then never do).

what are your top five fics by kudos?

from a to o, i love you so — omegaverse A/A -> A/O Soukoku piece

foiled fables — Kitsune!Dazai and human!Chuuya AU

with me, disaster finds a playfield — omegaverse Beast AU

letters to my chosen one — Angel!Dazai and Demon!Chuuya AU

bad days, good nights — Dazai birthday fic

do you respond to comments? why or why not?

Yes 💖 I do my best to respond to all of them because I appreciate others taking the time out to read and comment their thoughts, even if it's a simple emoji

what's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

still the snowflakes fall — A what-if had Dazai been a part of the Decay of Angels instead. It doesn't end well for anyone involved.

what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I think probably from a to o, i love you so. Because it's about Dazai waking up one morning and losing a critical part of his identity and suddenly everything he knows is a lie. But despite fumbling, he comes to accept a new reality because, as Chuuya puts it, he's still Dazai. That core part of him hasn't changed.

do you get hate on fics?

Not really. I've gotten dumb trollish comments and people demanding for requests but I've shut them down

do you write smut?

wildly gestures to almost my entire catalog of fics And I'll do it again

do you write crossovers?

No, but I've wanted to write fusions. Like dropping bsd characters into Genshin or Honkai Star Rail or Psycho-Pass or something. Some of my fics have been loosely inspired by games or things I've watched but I definitely wouldn't call them crossovers.

have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge, but I hope not jkdkjskj

have you ever had a fic translated?

I've had a few requests for one of my recent fics to be translated 👀 I'm over the moon every time someone asks

have you ever cowritten a fic before?

I SUPPOSE Darling, Some Things Are Meant to Be counts in a very roundabout way. @ohhcinnybuns gets full credits for the actual fic on there, but we go back and forth on here writing Snow White!Dazai and Prince!Chuuya ficlets (hey, go check out our fairytale playlist for them, I'm obsessed)

what's your all time favourite ship?

Probably IwaOi and ShuAke

what's the wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I started a zombie apocalypse-flavored omegaverse in anticipation of finishing it for omegaverse week and that never happened. I'm feeling ambitious but I also have a lot of events I'm participating in at the moment and ongoing fics that need prioritizing.

what are your writing strengths?

Painting scenes and going into depth about character motives and inner thoughts! Also, tying subplots into the overarching plot. I love worldbuilding and creating seemingly insignificant backstories for characters that end up playing major roles down the road.

what are your writing weaknesses?

The last time I did this tag game, I said dialogue, and that was a couple of months ago now but I feel like I've made major improvements in that area with my recent stuff. I'm becoming a lot more comfortable with fleshing out the plot through characters interacting with one another than in exposition and narrative. Now, I'd say editing. I tend to second guess myself and will scrap several thousands-worth of words if something's not working and then rewrite it all over again because I can't pick out what exactly is wrong with something.

thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I write Japanese honorifics simply because I feel like it reads a little better, but that's about it since most of what I write takes place in Japan.

first fandom you wrote for?

K-Pop help it was so long ago...we don't talk about those days...

favourite fic you've ever written?

hunter's season my beloved. It's a Dark Era omegaverse fic revolving around Dazai/Chuuya, with Dazai who thought he was an alpha but turns out he was really living a lie his whole life and finds out the hard way after taking some tampered medications.

no pressure tags: @altruistic-meme @monkey-banana41 @chuuyaspinkmotorcycle @calmlb @bloodsherry

[the-stove-is-divorced]

Sometimes you just gotta punch a wall ♡ Tho, there's something so silly about, like, yeah, just let them go ham. We'll be over here.

Delighted you see the vision because ever since SUF finished airing, heck, even midway through, it's all I could think about but just refused to write it myself, wanted it so bad. (＃＞＜) Also the way you describe it so perfect, she is absolutely stalking and I love her for it. Steven bailing her out of the police station would be everything to me. And yeah they're such a fun dynamic to play with, honestly, I kinda love Jasper would be severely allergic to him trying to help her, but post-SUF respects him somewhat? I think I'm too tired to articulate this anymore but I am chewing on the like a dog with a bone. I love them so fucking much.

Nolan "I would bring a whole ass tree instead of bouquet" determined to learn how to even use a camera just to spite this one fucker is truly beautiful. Nolan gains one hobby and it's spite driven. Mark tries to get more Dad/training time only to ordered to tackle some random vigilante or be on patrol to spot him. Mark is just "?????". Meanwhile, Debbie eagerly looks at the camera only to see it's just random, mostly blurry, images of some guy in a red-blue suit. The disbelief. I'd love to see that face she'd make, assuming Nolan was gonna immortalize their memories together. Like, "No, honey I have beef with some random chatty spider-themed vigilante and I will take pictures about it". Like okay, buddy, whatever you got going on I guess??? AND YES! Spidey would be so offended like OH, you trust HIM? It's mostly the mustache. JJ WOULD point out the mask-lessness as a trust thing LMAO. I love this.

The lack of villainous hierarchy is one of the things that will persistently drive me up the fucking wall, you are a super hero show, and you do not have a classic rogue gallery? A compelling rogue gallery that intentionally compares, contrasts the hero in an interesting light? Again, see: batman rogue gallery being iconic. It solves the problem of Mark's shaky morality ambiguity, and just fleshes him + new!Guardians if they fought those kind of battles together. It can truly flesh out the fucking world. What impact do heroes, and thus villains, have on society? Can we see Mark interacting with civilians? Earning their trust back, or even their hostility? I feel like Powerplex is such a fucking breath of fresh air 'cause they finally doing classic hero stuff, and there's a PERSONAL villain that can say something about Mark and the world. Like why didn't we do this from the GET GO????

I love Invincible because I'll be gnawing at the fucking walls for a scrap of goodness and then they'll finally throw me a bone like 5-6 episodes in like FINALLY. I WAS STARVED. CAN WE KEEP THIS GOING?

Also fr??? What is the world like and what the fuck does it mean to not work with the GDA? This is an ample opportunity to establish if vigilantes exist, to define what it fucking means to be a professional hero. Like, in bnha for example, there is a school for being a hero, there's a license, exams, agencies, there is a WORLD and LAW, but with Invincible I, again, do not know what is at stake if heroes do not work with the GDA anymore. Mark and Eve make a company, but did they USE TO get paid with the GDA? Like you said, is anybody without an apparently rich robot buddy that stole your blood and skin and face just screwed? AND YEAH THANK YOU. The Order JUST got introduced and I haven't heard shit about the Lizard League, not to mention we saw them and then Rock Guy basically told 'em to not get involved with the city, what the fuck??? Are we gonna see them again then or????? WHERE IS THE PERSONAL BEEF VILLAINS , other than Power plex, but WHAT ABOUT THE GUARDIANS???? Where's Immortal's nemesis, like???

OMFG THE ORDER'S EXES? She absolutely fits into the world domination group lmao. AND I'M CRYING, her pondering the ethics of outright using tips she got from exes to help Mark would be EVERYTHING TO MEEEEE. She's really like, no, I would want someone to bash Nolan's nose in, and just tells Mark whatever he needs. Honestly, fuck it, I'd love to see Debbie giving Mark tips too, I understand if she's not interested, it's boring to her, but there's something so funny to me about her being as dismissive w/ it with Nolan as with Mark in s1. Like, "oh, the president gets kidnapped plenty of times, do you honestly wanna go now? I'm ordering pizza :/ ". I know she's more concerned 'cause Mark keeps nearly fucking dying, but if they let him fucking win, that'd be a neat dynamic! It could also add/justify why Oliver doesn't take hero stuff seriously other than being a kid, it's because the whole house is dismissive to the danger!

Also, bonus side tangent I think you've seen the latest episodes but: the way they keep making Mark lose battles drives me up the fucking wall because at least when he lost in s1, it made fucking sense. He's inexperienced, being punched in the face with the REAL dangers! Plus, it drives me even crazier because, AGAIN, the peak Nolan vs Mark one-sided smack down, Mark got beat the fuck up but he won. He didn't give into Nolan's rhetoric, Nolan stopped, he realized he DID care. Nolan killed millions with ease but he lost. Mark had a point, and a heart, and I fucking love the "loser" and "winner" of the fight look like that. SO Y'ALL KNOW HOW TO MAKE MARK WIN A FIGHT WHILE STILL LOSING, in some important sense! Again with old man earthquake! Have Mark win the battle with monsters, but put trapped team mates at risk by being to aggressive or reckless and someone gets hurt.

Also again pertaining to the new episode, it drives me up the wall if they shuffled how they set up the season, we could've had a trained, more vicious Mark being violent towards MONSTERS/BEASTS, justifying Cecil's concerns! All the while Mark doesn't see it as murder because they can't talk/not people, THEN, have the whole dragon guy (looks like a beast, but is a person), and again, let Mark win that one! But have him realize later he killed a PERSON, not an entity or creature. Cecil could've avoided telling him until the Big Confrontation, if they pushed that back, and Mark could've had to wrestle with the idea he's killed two people, and one without even noticing/fully realizing. It adds to the drama, it shakes up his notion of murder. Let him have a breakdown even.

This show drives me insane. They had the pieces... they had then.. JUST PUT IT TOGETHER.

Anyways, back to Debbie. Truly let her be fucking selfish? Why should she feel so obligated to higher standards when Nolan went off the fucking fails and just avoided any consequences for the damages? He hurt her, again and again. He hurt their son. He ruined their life, and what? She has to be so honorable? So noble? Please. Her friends, if known the Guardians or any other potential casualties, fucking DIED. Also the "do you ever wonder if you could have stopped them, and do you ever feel a rush realizing you could have asked them to do something worse and they probably would have? just for you?" <- makes me go CRAZY. Like let her feel validated and SEEN??? Truly where is the villain exe/partner support group when she needs it??? I would have LOVED to seen her wrestling with that.

PLACATE DEBBIT OMG. Istg like honestly, GoG/GDA isn't your one fucking job to stop shit like this from happening and you DIDN'T? LET HER SAY THAT. Let her be mean or cruel or even ponder why no one else saw this coming? Let her sink into guilt only to think why should it be her responsibility to save the fucking world from her husband? Why didn't you guys step up? Also, again, her husband killed millions/thousands but didn't touch her, if I was a villain I am not even making eye contact.

Or, like if she's the reason Mark stood up against his Dad, I'd straight up threaten eroding Mark's moral compass. Like idk he listens to his mom. Again, with her being mean + never stop thinking of Oliver <3 = Like, straight up if Oliver has to be here, I'd love if she was uncomfortable or disliked him because of what he stood for, even if that wasn't in his control, let her do that!!! Like doesn't let him call her Mom. I also was again chanting for Teen Dad Mark, let Debbie not raise an affair child oh my god guys. CAN SHE LIVE????

Mark and Debbie could be guilt magnets in SUCH different ways but I am denied. Agony.

Also Debbie fully taking advantage of Cecil needed her alive + general recklessness would be incredible. Like straight up taken advantage she's built Mark's morality, and if she's gone, he's going to lose this fucking shit, and they're at risk for a Omni-Man Sequel. Let her be petty and smug omg. LET HER LIVEEEEEEE. Have her run head first or even casually stroll through a low villain crime spree so Cecil has to teleport her home. She just becomes a familiar face at the GDA. She likes their lounge. Sometimes she takes a comm and says hi to Mark or ask him to pick up something since he's near a restaurant in Spain she likes or something. Cecil fucking hates the fact agents greet her/inform her/treat her with similarity authority, like it'd be so fucking cool if villains, GDA staff, etc didn't mess with her???

And same? The s1 mystery had such a good fucking tone, even if it had faults, it had a coherency to it that s3 just doesn't??? Like can you stop checking off a list of Shit To Do and make a story again? Like think it through?

While I'm not too familiar with the DCU- your batfam meta posts are intiguing- so in transfering some of the broader strokes from them- I think you tackling a 'Mark isn't Nolan's biological son' fic would be fascinating. Sort of a step to the side of the 'what if Mark never got his powers' fic that sometimes pop up in the fandom

OOOOOO chewing on this currently, hm, the much a distinct flavor of exactly what you’re talking about, but the potential for more family drama depending on WHO knows. Does Mark know?? Is he waiting every day only to be crushed? Does he confused non-Debbie features with Nolan’s? I suppose I’m not the most enthusiastic about non-power AUs, but I think there’s something very fun to explore about Mark having to settle with, if he knows all his life, he will never have powers? I think the trajectory of his dreams will obviously shift, I can see him still having that distinct fatherly idolization, but perhaps embraces being useful to the GDA? Cecil’s number one intern—only intern—curtesy of nepotism, ha! There is something tickling me about Mark taking the Robin Route/Role for the Teen Team in terms of having no powers, just insane skills, BUT there’s something way more delicious about intern Mark when s1e01 happens and Mark tries snooping around to find out the truth about what happened to his Dad.

I wonder if, with Mark having a whole another father, if they’re more or less distant relationship, depending on WHEN Nolan entered Mark’s life? Like if Debbie met Nolan later for this, or just for fun, they dated once, separated (Mark being born during then), then they happened to stumble into each others lives again and Mark’s already been born, anywhere from tween to teenager so there’s a gap in how close they are. I feel like one important aspect of the whole Family Drama is how close they’re supposed to be, a functional, loving family turned upside down? So I wonder what more distance does. I wonder how Nolan copes when his family is entirely human and he can’t project onto Mark.

I love thinking about these, omg.

[therevengeoffrankenstein]

he is so handsome i feel like my heart is going to explode.

[psychopomp-namine]

.

[longagoitwastuesday]

I am liking Jujutsu Kaisen, way more than I imagined I would, but I foresee it will let me down and it's keeping me from enjoying this as much as I could haha

I think the characters and dynamics are well set, and I think many of them have an incredibly good and deep potential, but I would be willing to bet they'll not get a proper development, enough for them to really hit. A well assembled set of gears is not enough to make the movement go, you have to wind the clockwork.

I think Gojo and Megumi have a fascinating and very complex dynamic, but I doubt it will be given the time and care that imo it needs to actually work. And it is going well enough for now! One could see the intimacy between them was deeper than the one Gojo had with, say, Yuji and Nobara ever since the very first few episodes despite the fact Fushiguro too was a first year. But the pieces forming what they have are extremely complex, and it just wouldn't be realistic if it doesn't show, even if in a not showing way, or if it doesn't have consequences or implications.

It's one of those dynamics that shape one's life, the way one regards the world, the way one establishes or not relationships with other people. It's one of those dynamics that could be full of fondness, gratitude, resentment, admiration, trust, and that imply intimacy, the good kind or the bad, even if in just the knowledge of someone who's been a constant through your life. It could, and would, imply a myriad of feelings, and probably in such a mix it could imply contradictory feelings too. Even the nothingness would weight, even the nothingness would be significant and meaningful.

Gojo took Megumi and his sister under his wing, the son of a man who murdered him, because of both selfish and selfless reasons. Megumi looks like Toji. What does Gojo feel about this? How does Gojo deal with this? How does Gojo go about taking care of Megumi? Would he walk him to school? Make him breakfast? Celebrate his birthdays making him blow candles? Did he take him to the zoo? Does the relationship between them feel professional or is it something more? Gojo appreciates his students, but is Megumi to him just another student? When Gojo faces Sukuna in Megumi's body, did he see the kid he raised, or does he just see Sukuna in one of his students' body? Did he have one faint wavering instant? And how does Megumi feel about this? Is he resentful of him? Resentful of the situation? Of the selfishness behind his actions? Does he feel like a pawn? Is he grateful? Does he resent feeling grateful? Would he rather not? Does he love Gojo? Does he feel nothing about him other than what he could feel about a teacher that sort of annoys him but knows he's reliable in his strength? Does he think it unfair, cruel or unfeeling that Gojo is close, closer perhaps, with Yuuji or Yuta, considering their story? When Sukuna slices Gojo in two, does the remnants of Megumi's soul tremble?

And not just Megumi and Gojo. Yuuji and Nanami, Gojo and Nanami, Yuuji and Fushiguro, Nobara and the boys, or Nobara and Maki, Todo and Yuuji or Yuta, Gojo and Yuta, Megumi and his sister. Gojo and Geto, even! If the pieces are well set, the dynamics are intriguing, interesting, and have potential to be deep, but then the characters have like two plot relevant scenes that punch you hard, but little more, it's not nearly enough. Especially not nearly enough for the enormity that is shonen dynamics and situations. And the potential existing at all, and then not delivering, makes it all the more frustrating when you're left with something mediocre that could have been so good.

The development of dynamics through not only a few plot relevant gut wrenching moving scenes, but also the smallness of life, is important. The friend who recommended this to me said that those things were just unnecessary filler, but I disagree. I think there's a big difference between a large amount of anime-only filler episodes whose existence is based on the fact they had run out of manga chapters to animate, and moments of quietness. The low stakes character-driven moments of quietness can be so telling and so insightful, and they are so satisfactory when brought back later in higher stakes situations. My friend teased me there was no scene of Gojo making breakfast to Megumi, that it would be an idiotic idea, but it would be so telling. How he makes breakfast, what they eat, if he tries hard or if it's all mechanised, if they have personal bowls or if they use whatever, if he just buys them some pastry on the way to school, if the way they have breakfast changes through the years, or if he doesn't make them breakfast at all! All that would be very insightful on their dynamic and its evolution. All that would give a glimpse on how they regard each other and why, even in the present. All that could become meaningful in tense situations and high stakes scenes.

These moments also let the plot breath; if a lot is happening all the time, if every character is always experiencing trauma after trauma, the entire story is so emotionally draining that at some point you don't even care all that much. Besides, these nothing moments or low stakes plot arcs, besides deepening and developing dynamics, also let some in-world time pass, which would make the intimacy and bond between characters more believable imo; between Yuuji eating Sukuna's finger and their last confrontation in December how much time has passed? A few months? Am I truly to believe these characters are so everything to each other in only a few months?

Without some smallness, some repetition, some daily life, some low stakes not plot-centric development, the dynamics don't hit, they don't truly feel fleshed out, and dynamics as complex as the ones Megumi and Gojo have, or as supposedly meaningful as the one Megumi has with Yuuji or his sister, should be fleshed out if they're going to exist at all. Otherwise they'd risk making the writing feel awkward and fake. Besides, if the dynamics felt well fleshed out and realistic, they would shape the way the characters interact and act, and how they deal with situations, thus being plot relevant.

The shonen genre has so much happening all the time, the stakes are so high, the dynamics are so rooted in big events and the relationships carry enormous weight and implications. Yet they barely get developed, and it feels so stupid, so plain, the absence of something so important noticeable like a constant void, a shapeless nothingness present in every scene. It makes the characters feel like cardboard figures. Jujutsu Kaisen is already getting a better job than many, but I doubt it will do enough for what I've heard, and I fear I am bound to feel let down, and bound to feel unmoved.

After all, if not enough time and care has been given to develop a dynamic, I am not going to feel pressured by the high stakes; if not enough time and care has been given to develop the dynamic between Megumi and Yuuji, as good potential as it has I am bound to feel little for this last confrontation between Sukuna and Itadori, and his effort in getting Megumi back.

[dandyshucks]

seeing ppl say that theyre going to kiss and hug all his trauma away makes me insane bc thats so not how it works 😭😭😭 not to be "u don't understand him like i do" but CMON... that sort of trauma doesnt work like that.... its not a "romance fixes everything" situation.... and i know half the time ppl are just being somewhat silly and not actually serious but i just get so irritated w the trope of "just get into a relationship and it'll fix all ur trauma :]" bc its EVERYWHEREEE

[forcedhesitation]

After my last post I decided to sit down and rank all the possible companion pairs. here is the tierlist, should you wish to fill it out yourself.

This is a "ship" chart, but it's important to clarify that I am interested in how the dynamic works overall, not just romantically. I am very invested in how the stories of different characters overlap, and how they could mesh together to change both people involved. so the more interesting I find an individual character, the more likely they are to be higher in the chart.

How interesting I find characters also usually translates to my desire (or lack thereof) to draw them. So my likeliness to draw a pairing is the scale I used to describe each tier, rather than a nebulous "S," "B", or "F." This way, I feel it is better understood exactly why each pair is placed where it is.

Once again, sorry to those who enjoy miss SH. I do not hate her, I just do not find her to be an especially compelling character. I like the voice acting for her, but I don't care for her design, and I feel any element of her story is simply better explored in those of other characters.

*Special Exception 1: I have to split this pair off specifically, because I've thoroughly disparaged it in the past, based on erroneous judgments of halsin's character. when I first played the game, I locked myself out of a lot of Act 2 dialogue with him, which meant I missed the parts of his character that I do find interesting. I will say, it does still deeply bother me how much of his character revolves around sating the sexual desire players might have for him. I also hate that, as far as I'm aware, he can only acknowledge the player's relationship with astarion in the context of having sex. But after spending an entire campaign playing the game correctly, trying to learn as much about halsin as I could, and thus romancing him, so that I could properly judge him, I have grown attached to my rewritten version of him. so I'm not so much fond of the star/halsin pair as it is in game, as I am of that dynamic in the context of corydalis' campaign.

*Special Exception 2: after what happened with halsin, I feel it would be unfair to judge how interesting I might find minthara's relationship with most of the other companions, given that I've not yet had the opportunity to recruit her. despite this, I can safely say that I have no interest in whatever would likely play out between her any of the men, bar gale. gale is the exception because I've seen snippets of dialogue between them. I do not necessarily think they'd work together romantically, but again, it's more that the potential dynamic between them is interesting to me, regardless of the type of relationship they have. also, I do not categorise all other minthy x male companion pairs as bad because I am of the belief that she is not bisexual. I have faith that this game would make an effort to show us that she was a different identity, were she, because it already does a great job of affirming every other companion's bisexuality outside their potential relationship to the player. what I do not have faith in, however, is that minthy has as beautifully written a story as lae'zel does, where she learns to abandon the cruel and bigoted beliefs her society indoctrinated her to have. not when origin companions like wyll & karlach still lack material, and not when halsin's writing is as inconsistent as it is. I do not think that either halsin or minthy have, or will ever have, fully fleshed out narratives.

if you've interesting commentary about a particular pairing that you like, that you feel I might benefit from reading, do feel free to share it! even if I dislike a pairing, I am usually willing to read someone's thoughts about why they do find it interesting, granted it's not like...something utterly foul. I just ask you keep any commentary you choose to share to companion/companion pairs or companion/companion pairs in the context of polyamory with a tav/durge. NPC romance is another conversation.

[gojosprettyprincess]

ִ ˖ ࣪⭑ OLDER BF TOJI TOUCHING AND TEASING HIS SHY GF :(

Tw- just Toji being a perv :p (not proofread)

You’re comfortably seated on his lap, and the only thing currently on your mind is to peacefully continue watching the shitty comedy movie you chose about twenty minutes ago since it was movie night and you always looked forward to it but it's getting awfully difficult to even concentrate when his large hands are roaming every curve of your body in existence.

His fingertips gently glide over the supple skin beneath the hem of your tank top, while his other hand is shamelessly groping at the soft flesh of your breasts with unbridled desire like you’re some piece of meat that’s on display for him to grab and touch whenever he feels like it.

He's planting little kisses into the crook of your neck and occasionally mumbling how much he loves you and telling you how sweet you smell and all you can do is slightly arch your back and squirm under his touch because you don’t know what else to do :(

You can feel the heat igniting between your core as your tummy flutters with Toji’s every move. At this point you just want him to pull his thick cock out from his sweatpants and fuck you face down till you're drooling all over his couch but you’re way too shy and flustered to ever admit something like that.

You hated how unbelievably fast he could easily get you all riled up and horny for him and he knew it.

Most of the time Toji is the one to take the lead when it comes to initiating sex unless he's randomly waking up in the middle of the night with his twitching, wet cock nestled all the way inside of you while you’re sitting on top of him because you think it’s less embarrassing when you do it while he’s sleeping.

But now you’re so eager and your cunt is aching to be filled with Toji’s girth. You love it when his cock is stuffing the little gape in your cunt, it makes you feel so full of him but yet you still can’t get enough. You whined softly when you felt him hooking his fingers into the waistband of your pajama shorts— thinking that you’re finally about to get what you’ve been longing for.

But no.

He rested his hand on the curve of your pelvis before slowly tracing a long, tantalizing stripe along the sensitive skin of your neck with his warm, moist tongue and lifting his head to gaze at your flustered face.

“Aww, What’s wrong baby?”, he teased with a taunting smirk when he saw the cute little disappointing pout visible on your face. He was such an expert at getting on your nerves and annoying you with how much he teased you that sometimes, you just wanna punch him in the chest but even that would probably just make him laugh at you even more because of how adorable you look when you’re trying to act tough.

“Toji.. you know what” you murmured softly, your words almost lost in the quiet of the room, as you gently adjusted your position on his lap, moving to sit more comfortably on his big clothed erection that's poking out through the crotch of his sweatpants instead of just his thighs.

He chuckled at your eagerness, his warm breath tickling your ear. “Hmmm I don’t think so baby, why don’t you tell dear old Toji?”. The hand that was squeezing your boobs, now firmly gripping your hips, his calloused fingers digging into your soft skin. “Y’know I'm getting older and dumber as the days go by”.

“I n-need you” you whined softly, feeling vulnerable as you shifted your gaze downward to avoid meeting his piercing green eyes, heart pounding in your chest because you knew his penetrating stare lingered over your shoulders.

“Yeah? You need me? Where do you need me, sweetheart?”. He playfully inquired. You can feel the big pool of slick damping your panties as you feverishly bite your glossy lips. You can feel the throbbing bump of Toji directly under your needy core and you can’t stop thinking about it finally being buried deep inside the deep depths of pussy to the point where his jabby tip is resting at the entrance of your womb, he’s all you want at this point.

“Need you inside of me, Toji” you finally blurted out as rested your head on his strong shoulders in disbelief that you actually said that out loud. Toji couldn’t help but smirk before moving his fingers that were touching your pelvis deeper into your underwear till he could feel the puddle of sticky wetness soaking through the cotton. “Fuck, you’re so wet, didn't know you were such a needy slut like this”.

He rests his middle finger at the entrance of your yearning hole, feeling the tantalizing sensation of more slick trickling out, almost making him want to stuff his face into your delicious pussy and taste you but that’s for another time. “is this where you want me baby?”. He asked before planting a kiss on your earlobe. “In here?” He lightly probes at your dripping hole as you grab onto his meaty forearm.

“Y-yes— Toji”

“You want me to split your pussy open around my dick?” You whimpered at his sudden vulgar bluntness as you eagerly nodded your head like some stupid slut.

“God… you're so dirty, baby” he chuckled in a mocking tone like he was trying to embarrass you as if he's not just as eager to stuff his painfully hard and throbbing dick in your warm hole and feel the creamy mess you'd decorate his shaft with slowly tainting his cock.

[transmasc-tabris]

.

[syluss-littlecrow]

release

<Caleb x fem!reader>

where both you and Caleb end up doing more than butt heads about his given curfew for you.

genre/warnings: smut, pwp, mutual pinning, mutual obsession & possession, jealous!Caleb breeding kink, multiple orgasms, a lot of cum..., perverted!MC, friends to lovers?, squirting, unprotected sex, morning sex, pure Caleb brain rot, it gets pretty nasty

a/n: Caleb, Caleb, CALEB XIA YIZHOU 😭😭 the way I've been giggling over Caleb while watching his story and going back to my home screen with Sylus looking at me with his arms crossed.... Anyway, enjoy this Caleb brain rot 🥹🩷 I'll do one with Caleb's military air force uniform when I can 😔🫡

I JUST SAW THE NEW BANNER DROP IM NOT OK IF ANYONES WONDERING.

w/c: 3.5K

Effortless. That is what Caleb feels like when his affections come to you. It bubbles and boils over when he thinks he's able to put a lid over it, and it overflows instead. It leaves him so defenseless. Yet, he can't seem to stop. It's the only thing that keeps him going in this hell. 

The only thing he feels is the metallic necklace barely weighing on his chest. It almost feels like you're here with him. 

And if you are, he wants to keep you here with him. Forever.

His eyes slowly open. His eyes focus on the hologram clock hovering at the side. 

You're supposed to be back already. 

Caleb contemplated on driving out to find you since he has your location pinging on his phone.

Since when did you have that many friends in Skyhaven? Why doesn't he know about them?

He checks the messages he's sent you, all unread. 

Caleb has to remind himself to stop clenching his jaw and biting his tongue. 

His stare towards the door grows anxious by the minute. Then he strengthens his resolve and marches towards the door, ready to leave and look for you. 

The second he pulls down the door handle, the jingle of the door unlocking from the outside sounds and the door swings open, making you and Caleb jump when he catches you in his arms from bumping into each other.

“Caleb!” You squeal, flustered at the way you completely ran into him. His warmth is radiating over to your skin. “Are you okay? Where were you gonna go?”

You watch a small pout form on his lips. He truly looks like a puppy when he does that, you can't help but think. 

“Look for you”, he curtly replies, making sure you've regained your balance before he releases your arms.

You straighten your posture, and sheepishly touch the nape of your neck, immediately avoiding his gaze. 

“Ah, right. Well, I got carried away with chatting with my friends and all…” 

Caleb crosses his arms. His pout turns into a frown, and his eyebrows are scrunched. 

Shit. He looks mad.

You inch closer to him, your fingers grazing over his knuckles. 

“I'm sorry, Caleb. Don't be mad okay? I'm home now, safe and sound, in the flesh, aren't I?”

Caleb breathes steadily, keeping his expression the same, but when you take his palm and nuzzle your cheek against it, Caleb feels the anxiety and frustration dissolve. He wants to reprimand you about the curfew, and why he implemented it in the first place. If you’ve stayed missing for a second longer, he would have completely lost it. But the moment his palm nearly touches your lips, it all dissipates, as if it never existed. 

Caleb exhales a sigh of defeat, letting it go just this time, alongside the countless times he did. 

“Go shower. I left the heater on for you.” 

You respond with a cheeky smile that makes something in Caleb’s chest bloom, and he lets you go, watching you disappear into your room. 

Caleb hears a knock on his door. He walks over and opens it, watching you coming into view. 

“Is there something you need, pipsqueak?”

You squeeze through the crack of the partially opened door and occupy his bed. 

“I'm just bored.”

Even though Caleb cocks his eyebrow, he still sprouts his smile, walking over to join you on his bed.

“Not because you're trying to make it up to me for coming back past curfew?”

Shit. 

Your smile playfully drops to a pout. “I got carried away yapping with my friends. You know I didn't mean to…” 

Caleb crosses his arms again.

“I could tell. My messages were all left unread.”

You curl your fingers to your lips when you realise you've been caught.

Caleb seems upset but you still see the softness beneath. 

He sighs. 

“I'm doing this for your own good, pipsqueak. I don't like you getting caught up in this.”

Caleb likes to think that it is that way, but he knows that it's more than just that. 

“As you can tell–” you’re showing off your body–your arms first then your legs, then your abdomen. But what Caleb didn't expect you to do was lift up your shirt slightly, your skin exposed, and have your shorts hike up your thighs, just to prove your point. “Nothing! You can check me for tracking devices too if you want to.” 

Something snaps in him.

“So do you let your friends inspect your body like that?” 

He crawls onto the bed, watching the smile slowly drop from your face. 

Caleb’s fingers trace your bare skin, drawing goosebumps from how ghostly the touches feel. His fingers slide from the top of your knees, and towards your thighs.

“Do you know how worried I was when you didn't answer my messages?”

You’re about to part your lips to respond, but he cuts you off. 

“I was wondering what conversations you were having that you ignored me.” 

“Caleb–”

He’s completely trapped you against the headboard of his bed. He's trapped you with his stare. 

Caleb inches closer, until he's close enough. His eyes glance down to your lips for a split second before his gaze meets yours again. 

Your breath is shaky when he leans in closer. 

Then he turns away. 

What the fuck? 

You watch in disbelief as he pulls away, your breath still caught in your throat from the tension.

Caleb’s signature smile returns and you feel his palm stroke the back of your head. 

“You should go back to bed. It's late.” 

He turns to open his door for you to leave. 

“Maybe I should start coming home later too.” 

He pauses in his steps. 

“I don't think that's a bright idea, pipsqueak.”

You slide off his bed and walk towards his door. 

“Maybe not. But I have brighter ones that consist of escaping your curfew.” 

You’re ready to leave the room with your victory, that is, until the door before you completely shuts. You see his shadow tower over you from behind. 

You turn to face Caleb, your arms are crossed. 

“Didn’t you ask me to go to bed?” 

“Changed my mind. I wanna make sure you're thoroughly inspected.”

You’re facing Caleb, back on his bed again. He starts with your face, but he lets his fingers linger around your lips, brushing across your bottom lip. You turn away, and his fingers catch your chin, forcing you to face Caleb.

“No looking away.”

His eyes are devouring every patch of skin that exists on your body. Even though you're clothed, you feel naked when he has his eyes on you this intensely. His fingertips trace back to your lips and he slides it down painfully slowly–past your chin, down your neck, through your sternum, past your stomach, and stops right above the elastic of your shorts. 

You want to shift, but you realise you can't–your body suddenly feels weighed down to the bed, and that's when you realise Caleb has you held down with his Evol.

The softness in Caleb’s eyes disappears, and something else replaces it. You watch him tug your shorts off you, and all you can do is watch helplessly. 

His kisses tickle from your ankle, and he builds them upwards at an agonising pace, each kiss feeling warmer as he travels up your thigh. 

Your heartbeat only accelerates from there, watching Caleb inch closer and closer to your cunt. Your thighs tense up from the sensitivity, the warmth of his lips spreading over your skin when you feel his tongue come in contact with your skin. 

“That tickles”, your voice is soft, as if the defiance in your tone before never existed.

Caleb’s lips press against your clothed pussy. Despite the fact that you’re trembling slightly, you've completely soaked your panties, and Caleb is more than happy to soak them even more. 

He buries his tongue, wetting the fabric even further. The pleasure draws soft moans, but evidently, it's not enough. 

“Caleb… Could you lighten your Evol?” You plead. You want to feel him so bad. 

Your body instantly lightens, and you almost think you're gonna fall off the bed. 

Something else holds you down this time, and it's Caleb. 

He tilts your chin up to have your lips meet his, now his kisses melting off the thoughts in your brain. Warmth burns through your skin. It takes you seconds to realise Caleb is lifting your shirt off you.

The clothing article is the next victim tossed somewhere else on the bed. 

You take his cheeks to your palms.

“I really need you now, Caleb.”

The softness returns to his eyes momentarily. 

“Are you sure you're okay with this?”

“I'll hop off right now and head straight to bed if you don't”, you huff. Fuck, the anticipation is just clawing through your insides, begging for Caleb to do something.

He playfully scoffs. 

“We both know you wouldn't.” 

Caleb tugs your panties to the side, and lines himself to your hole.

He thrusts into you in one swift motion, and you feel it all the way in. It knocks your breath out of you. Caleb watches you helplessly gasp for air and adjust to his size. He’s just filled you so full. 

He’s still supporting you so you don't fucking pass out. He feels you scratch all over his back from the pressure but he stays still, at least, until you've adjusted. 

“Shit. You're so fuckin’ warm for me”, he hisses into your neck, trying his best not to thrust into you. You feel so tight for him, he feels so good just staying there.

He stretches you open for him–your pussy fluttering at the feeling of him filling you up. The pressure slowly fades and you quickly adjust to his size.

Your vision blurs when he thrusts into you from below–the sensation so overwhelming that it's making you tear up. 

“So good”, you sigh, struggling to keep your eyes open–almost impossible when his cock is hitting your g-spot over and over again. Sparks burst into your eyelids whenever he hits the spot and it's evident that he knows he’s able to unravel you just like that, so easily. 

“Caleb…”, you moan. Caleb’s still fucking you, feeling the way you're just squeezing him, watching the way your fingers have gone clawing his back to his bedsheets, the way your tits are bouncing from fucking you, the way your eyes practically form hearts when he knows he's hit your sensitive spots.

“Faster, please. You feel so fucking good.”

He knows you shouldn't have said that. You're the only person who can rile him up like this. How the hell are you making him break his resolve when he's supposed to be upset with you?

He leans in, practically hovering over you. His fingers cup your cheek and he forces you to meet his violet eyes. 

In your fucked out haze, you blink, confused when he slows down. He pulls out completely, and you're about to complain until he rolls your soiled panties off your legs, tossing it to somewhere on the bed. 

You gasp when you feel his thumb graze over your wet and throbbing clit. 

“I'm gonna make you wonder what the fuck wrong with your body”, Caleb’s voice reaches your ears. His words sends a shiver down your spine.

“Your little pussy is gonna throb every time you think of me.”

That's all the warning he gives before his arms tower over you, holding your wrists down above your head. 

He fucks you into an orbit and you're practically helpless–forced to take his thrusts over and over. But fuck, it feels so good. It feels like fucking heaven. 

You like how dizzy it makes you feel. You like how he's not stopping, no matter how much tears stream down your face, and how pathetic you sound crying and moaning his name. 

“Fuck! Caleb, it's too much–” you whimper, the strange feeling building up in your stomach. It feels like it's about to snap any second. 

He acknowledges your words, but he doesn't bother slowing down. 

“Didn’t you promise me to be a good girl and take all of it?” 

“Caleb–!”

Your voice sounds so heavenly when you call his name.

The fluids fountains out of you, soaking everything near it's vincity–including the both of you. Your orgasm continues to wash over you and more fluids spray out.

Caleb watches you squirm and jolt while you make a mess all over him. 

He lets go of your wrists, the slight redness forming onto your skin, and his thumb caresses your bottom lip. 

Despite your arms feeling sore from resisting against his hold, you wrap them around his neck, pulling him close to catch his lips. He's taken back for a split second, but he returns the kiss, letting his soft moans drown into your lips while you clench around him.

When you both pull back, it's Caleb’s turn to have his eyes glazed and his cheeks dusted a soft shade of pink. 

“y/n, if you keep doin’ that–fuck”, Caleb groans, his fingers closing into a fist against the sheets. His breath is shaky. The euphoria is threatening to spill over–the fact that you're trapping him in like this with you, just the two of you solely existing together right now–he could get high off this feeling. He doesn't need anything else. 

“I'm so close. Shit.” You watch the bead of sweat trickle down his temple, down to his cheek, to his chin, and then it disappears into the mess the both of you made below. 

Caleb’s voice makes you refocus on him. 

His palm presses against your cheek again, his thumb brushing lightly on the corner of your lips. 

“You're gonna take all of it like a good girl, yeah?” 

You nod, almost too eagerly. Caleb can't help but think that your face after being fucked looks breathtakingly beautiful. It makes him want to hide you further. The world doesn't deserve someone like you. 

He crashes his lips with yours, melting into the kiss while he pumps you full with his thick cum–making sure he has himself seated deep inside so nothing spills out. At least, not until he pulls out.

The high slowly descends, and the both of you are left panting, getting lost in each other’s eyes just for that moment before Caleb slowly pulls out. 

Caleb then reaches for the glass of water perched on his nightstand to offer you. You take a good few sips of water, and hand it back to Caleb, who takes a couple of sips as well. He notices the way your cheeks are still flushed and that you're blinking more. He plants the empty glass onto the nightstand, ready to carry you to wash up and probably change the sheets after.

In a daze, you notice Caleb’s cum seeping out of your hole in small loads. You wet two fingers and slide them to your pussy–and you push the thick fluids back in, your body jolting in pleasure while you're pretty much fingering your pussy with Caleb’s cum.

Caleb swallows hard while he watches you pleasure yourself. He’s about to say something but you cut him off.

“Your cum keeps leaking out”, you point out, giving him the full view of your cum-soaked pussy. You look up at him with an innocent, poison-soaked gaze–your lashes wet and your thighs trembling from each time you feel his cum leak out of you.

“It’d be such a waste–”, you mutter, shivering one more time when your fingers fuck you again, the room only filled with your voice and the wet squelching sounds from your pussy.

“–if it doesn't stay inside.” 

You barely have time to process what happens next. The next thing you knew, Caleb has your hands pinned above your head with one hand, and the other on your cheeks. His legs stop you from closing yours, and you feel his wet thickness hard once more, resting on your pubic bone.

“You know, pipsqueak”, his voice drops an octave lower. His voice is clear, and he makes sure you hear him. “It's okay to just ask for more.” His eyes reflect such a gorgeous shade of wild you've never seen before, and it looks fucking good on him.

No warnings–your cunt is just wet and sopping that Caleb stuffs you to fullness once more–you give up trying to keep your eyelids open, your mind only processing the way he’s fucking so deep into you again and again.

“You know I'll always give it to you.” 

The way his fingers are cupping your cheeks stops you from answering. Well, he doesn't need a verbal response, especially not when you’re clenching him so fucking tight when your orgasm hits you for the…how many times was it now?

You feel stings that slowly dull around your shoulders and chest. The bites Caleb’s given you are as red as the ruby on his apple necklace. 

The night is drowned with sounds and sensations of both you competing to send each other to the heavens. 

What day is it now? 

Caleb blinks his heavy eyelids open. He soaks in the atmosphere around him, and it doesn't take him long to realise that you're lying on his arm.

Thankfully, it's not numb. Your hair tickles his cheeks. 

He notices the light peeking through his curtains. It's probably daytime. 

Caleb presses his lips against the back of your head, while he pulls you closer. He almost jolts when he hears a soft moan coming from you.

For some reason, something feels funny. 

He attempts to shift slightly, and realises the predicament–his dick is still hard as fuck, and he’s still nestled so fucking deep in you. Fuck. Did the both of you fall asleep mid-sex? The feeling bleeds into him again. 

Are you even awake to realise this? 

Caleb bites his inner cheek, the hardness only builds. Shit. Even after all of that, you're still this warm and tight? 

He watches your breathing steadily. 

He hooks your leg over his arm almost too easily, giving himself easier access to fuck you deeper. Your sleepiness is slowly dissipating, overtaken so fucking quick by the burning desire once more.

His thrusts bear slight friction at first, but somehow that only adds to the pleasure–the rawness, the fact that he's left a mess in you and kept that way, and that he gets to do it all over again in the morning. 

“Ca…Caleb..!” You squeal, uselessly fisting the pillows while Caleb rails you from below. 

“So perfectly warm for me, y/n”, his morning voice dousing you. He takes advantage to litter more bites to the back of your neck and shoulders, and spoils you with his strained moans when he reflects the way you whimper whenever he hits your sensitive spots. 

You sheepishly bury your teary face into the pillows, and Caleb pushes himself impossibly deeper, forcing you to face him when you jolt in surprise. His violet eyes are eating you up. You hear his voice ring in your ears.

“Wanna make you cry more like this. You're so pretty when you cry when I'm splittin’ you open like this.” 

More tears stream down your cheeks whenever your g-spot gets abused over and over. Caleb forces you to meet his gaze. His thrusts are slower, but harder. 

“Shit, you're really gonna milk me dry, yeah?” Caleb hisses when he feels you flutter around him. Your cum is mixed with his, and drips down his cock, to his balls. 

Caleb pulls you tighter, deepening the kiss one last time while he breeds you full over and over for nth time since the last night, devouring your whimpers when the words you muttered to him last night comes into memory. You're so dizzy with pleasure, and Caleb has stolen all of your breaths. 

He finally pulls out, his cum endlessly drizzling out of your abused hole, and it almost sets him off again. 

Nonetheless, he forces himself to get out of bed so he can get a towel and clean you up.

Another loving kiss he presses onto your temple.

“I'm gonna get a towel, pipsqueak.” His husky whispers send shivers down your body, and the warmth of his touch lingers on your thighs for a lot longer than you realise.

He leaves the bed for the bathroom. 

You nuzzle into the pillows Caleb was just lying on, drowning yourself with his scent. The wetness that sticks between your legs–you can't tell if it's your fresh arousal or if it's his cum anymore.  

Not that it mattered since steadying your breath when you realised he was still in you when you stirred before him to see what he'd do next, gave you such a big reward. 

And you'd do it all over again. You would say things to get under his skin, just to get a rise out of him, just to keep his attention on you, always. 

You wanted to keep his strained voice when he called your name, the way he looks at you with so much desperation when he breeds you full, in a bottle and store it for your perverted indulgence. 

No one else needs to know that this part of Caleb exists, because he belongs to you. 

The dim light catches your attention underneath the thick sheets. You take the device, unlocking the phone with your fingerprint. 

6 missed calls. 

You swipe them away. You shut off his phone.

He doesn't need to know.

He doesn't need to remember.

At least, not when he's with you. 

[yandere-romanticaa]

Seen the request, so I shall deliver. Could you pls write a drabble or hcs of a yandere sunday with an isekaied reader?

Good timing because I'm actually planning a non yan isekai fic for him, I wonder if you saw that post. Here it is in case you haven't.

Sincerest apologies if this isn't the best, this fic is 100% emotionally charged by my obsession with him and frankly with a little bit of a high for passing a tricky exam. This is a treat for myself.

EDIT: Please check out this wonderful comic that @danijaci made me based off this fic!! 😭🫶

Picking up the cup from the fine oak table, you gazed towards the eerie galaxy before you, hundreds upon thousands of stars giving you a constant reminder of just how far from home you truly were. Taking a sip from the little porcelain cup you could not help but to hum in delight, the soft notes of the tea soothing your nerves ever so lightly as you pretended to ignore the heavy gaze which lingered at the back of your head.

Even from this distance, it was easy to tell that Sunday was eager to approach you. Still, he kept his distance and made a silent offering in the form of the very tea you drank at the moment.

Anything is better than Himeko's coffee but you were never going privy her to that.

In a not so distant past, all of this was nothing but fiction. The Express, the story, the characters - it was all nothing more but fiction, something to pass the time as your days went on and on, the same monotony repeating each and every day.

It was hard to not think about your friends and family, what sane person would not? Lord knows how they must be feeling right now, worried sick out of their minds with indescribable sorrow. In their eyes you had merely vanished, not a single trace to be found. For all they knew you could have been left for dead in a ditch somewhere, beaten, bloodied and broken, never to see the light again or if they were even more inclined to be morbid, you had succumbed to a fate worse than death. Death at the very least grants you finality, that all is over regardless of what happened moments prior.

But that was simply not the case for you.

Here you were, lounging about in a comfortable chair as you pondered on your old life while enjoying tiny little luxuries, far away where none of your loved ones could reach you. However, life was funny sometimes because it had some fun games in store.

Sunday was very kind upon arrival. He made sure to always be there for you, always checking up on you, always there to keep you company. You were already smitten with him but now to actually witness him in the flesh was just... Indescribable. You got along like a house on fire, so much so that the crew liked to tease that you ought to just get a room. Sunday, ever the gentleman, would just brush their words aside and assure you to not take their playful little jabs to heart.

You wouldn't say anything, resorting to merely giving him a smile but not because of what he said but rather of what he did not - never once did he actually shut down those perverse accusations. Never, not even once did he deny them.

He became an emotional crutch, someone to whom you would come running to when things got tough and he would always welcome you with open arms. Sunday would hold you tenderly, his serene voice dripping with honey along with a tender drop of ecstasy, for his excitement with holding you would just show itself sometimes. His grip would be too tight at certain moments, never quite ready to let you leave. His hugs were warm and comforting, he always smelled so good too. He smelled like kindness and sweet wildflowers, always lulling you back to him no matter the time. In dark corners and perhaps even under the watchful eyes of the crew, Sunday would wrap his scarf around your head, securing the soft fabric in order to provide you with a sense of comfort.

It was humiliating just how much you would try to inhale his scent as much as possible. You wanted it etched deep inside your memory, you wished for it to linger on your very soul and for it to follow you everywhere you went, sticking to your being like tar. The fabric of the scarf would muffle your ears a little but someone was always chatting in the background. Be it March bickering with Dan Heng, Mr Yang scolding someone for doing something they were not supposed to, or just Conductor Pom Pom trying to give a speech, all of it was irrelevant.

You were ready to kill whoever would try to pry you away from sweet Sunday. That thought came often which had left you worried - just what kind of person had you become? Regardless, you kept your mouth shut and had no plans of sharing such violent sentiments with anyone, particularly not to the one you held so dear.

When it was time to part for the evening you would bid the crew farewell and wished them a good night. You always made sure to take a few extra seconds with Sunday, just to ease your aching soul. He would tell you to sleep well and would see you in the morning, ready to take on any endeavor that crossed your paths.

As everyone parted ways, Sunday would wander off somewhere dark and distant, somewhere no one could see nor hear him. He would fall to his knees and clutch his chest in agony, fat tears streaming down his face as he did everything he possibly could to steady his raging heart. In a rush he would reach for the scarf which clung around his neck, his grip tighter than iron as he would bring it close to his nose. Taking a large, deep breath, Sunday was greeted by your familiar scent which would promptly calm his poor heart.

He sometimes wondered if his heart would start bleeding from the pain due to the sheer intensity of his emotions.

This was wrong, everything about this was not right and it hurt. Sunday was obviously ill but he had no clue on how to fight this... This emotion, this white hot feeling of need whenever you stood by his side. He started to choke on the air around him and fell into an abrupt coughing fit but even then, he could bring himself to remove the scarf from the lower part of his face.

Sunday wept and sobbed, filthy snot coming out from his nose but he could not handle that now. He needed you, Oh Heavenly Aeons, how he needed you. However was he going to tell you how he felt? How, oh how was he going to express the sheer magnitude of his true thoughts? He would scare you off, he was sure of it.

Even with this pain, even with these clipped wings and bleeding heart, Sunday had never felt so alive, so harrowingly present in the moment whenever he was with you.

Perhaps, he was doing himself a kindness by just letting you be. Drink your tea, be at peace.

He can always just make you another cup if you so desired.

Without knowing, you both haunted each other in the most agonizing way known to mankind and neither was strong enough to face the reality of the situation.

[burntoutdaydreamer]

Things That May Be Causing Your Writer's Block- and How to Beat Them

I don't like the term 'Writer's Block' - not because it isn't real, but because the term is so vague that it's useless. Hundreds of issues all get lumped together under this one umbrella, making writer's block seem like this all-powerful boogeyman that's impossible to beat. Worse yet, it leaves people giving and receiving advice that is completely ineffective because people often don't realize they're talking about entirely different issues.

In my experience, the key to beating writer's block is figuring out what the block even is, so I put together a list of Actual Reasons why you may be struggling to write:

(note that any case of writer's block is usually a mix of two or more)

Perfectionism (most common)

What it looks like:

You write one sentence and spend the next hour googling "synonyms for ___"

Write. Erase. Write. Rewrite. Erase.

Should I even start writing this scene when I haven't figured out this one specific detail yet?

I hate everything I write

Cringing while writing

My first draft must be perfect, or else I'm a terrible writer

Things that can help:

Give yourself permission to suck

Keep in mind that nothing you write is going to be perfect, especially your first draft

Think of writing your first/early drafts not as writing, but sketching out a loose foundation to build upon later

People write multiple drafts for a reason: write now, edit later

Stop googling synonyms and save that for editing

Write with a pen to reduce temptation to erase

Embrace leaving blank spaces in your writing when you can't think of the right word, name, or detail

It's okay if your writing sucks. We all suck at some point. Embrace the growth mindset, and focus on getting words on a page

Lack of inspiration (easiest to fix)

What it looks like:

Head empty, no ideas

What do I even write about???

I don't have a plot, I just have an image

Want to write but no story to write

Things that can help:

Google writing prompts

If writing prompts aren't your thing, instead try thinking about what kind of tropes/genres/story elements you would like to try out

Instead of thinking about the story you would like to write, think about the story you would like to read, and write that

It's okay if you don't have a fully fleshed out story idea. Even if it's just an image or a line of dialogue, it's okay to write that. A story may or may not come out of it, but at least you got the creative juices flowing

Stop writing. Step away from your desk and let yourself naturally get inspired. Go for a walk, read a book, travel, play video games, research history, etc. Don't force ideas, but do open up your mind to them

If you're like me, world-building may come more naturally than plotting. Design the world first and let the story come later

Boredom/Understimulation (lost the flow)

What it looks like:

I know I should be writing but uugggghhhh I just can'tttttt

Writing words feels like pulling teeth

I started writing, but then I got bored/distracted

I enjoy the idea of writing, but the actual process makes me want to throw my laptop out the window

Things that can help:

Introduce stimulation: snacks, beverages, gum, music such as lo-fi, blankets, decorate your writing space, get a clickity-clackity keyboard, etc.

Add variety: write in a new location, try a new idea/different story for a day or so, switch up how you write (pen and paper vs. computer) or try voice recording or speech-to-text

Gamify writing: create an arbitrary challenge, such as trying to see how many words you can write in a set time and try to beat your high score

Find a writing buddy or join a writer's group

Give yourself a reward for every writing milestone, even if it's just writing a paragraph

Ask yourself whether this project you're working on is something you really want to be doing, and be honest with your answer

Intimidation/Procrastination (often related to perfectionism, but not always)

What it looks like:

I was feeling really motivated to write, but then I opened my laptop

I don't even know where to start

I love writing, but I can never seem to get started

I'll write tomorrow. I mean next week. Next month? Next month, I swear (doesn't write next month)

Can't find the time or energy

Unreasonable expectations (I should be able to write 10,000 words a day, right????)

Feeling discouraged and wondering why I'm even trying

Things that can help:

Follow the 2 min rule (or the 1 paragraph rule, which works better for me): whenever you sit down to write, tell yourself that you are only going to write for 2 minutes. If you feel like continuing once the 2 mins are up, go for it! Otherwise, stop. Force yourself to start but DO NOT force yourself to continue unless you feel like it. The more often you do this, the easier it will be to get started

Make getting started as easy as possible (i.e. minimize barriers: if getting up to get a notebook is stopping you from getting started, then write in the notes app of your phone)

Commit to a routine that will work for you. Baby steps are important here. Go with something that feels reasonable: every day, every other day, once a week, twice a week, and use cues to help you remember to start. If you chose a set time to write, just make sure that it's a time that feels natural to you- i.e. don't force yourself to writing at 9am every morning if you're not a morning person

Find a friend or a writing buddy you can trust and talk it out or share a piece of work you're proud of. Sometimes we just get a bit bogged down by criticism- either internal or external- and need a few words of encouragement

The Problem's Not You, It's Your Story (or Outline (or Process))

What it looks like:

I have no problems writing other scenes, it's just this scene

I started writing, but now I have no idea where I'm going

I don't think I'm doing this right

What's an outline?

Drowning in documents

This. Doesn't. Make. Sense. How do I get from this plot point to this one?!?!?! (this ColeyDoesThings quote lives in my head rent free cause BOY have I been there)

Things That Can Help:

Go back to the drawing board. Really try to get at the root of why a scene or story isn't working

A part of growing as a writer is learning when to kill your darlings. Sometimes you're trying to force an idea or scene that just doesn't work and you need to let it go

If you don't have an outline, write one

If you have an outline and it isn't working, rewrite it, or look up different ways to structure it

You may be trying to write as a pantser when you're really a plotter or vice versa. Experiment with different writing processes and see what feels most natural

Study story structures, starting with the three act structure. Even if you don't use them, you should know them

Check out Ellen Brock on YouTube. She's a professional novel editor who has a lot of advice on writing strategies for different types of writers

Also check out Savage Books on YouTube (another professional story editor) for advice on story structure and dialogue. Seriously, I cannot recommend this guy enough

Executive Dysfunction, Usually From ADHD/Autism

What it looks like:

Everything in boredom/understimulation

Everything in intimidation/procrastination

You have been diagnosed with and/or have symptoms of ADHD/Autism

Things that can help:

If you haven't already, seek a diagnosis or professional treatment

Hire an ADHD coach or other specialist that can help you work with your brain (I use Shimmer; feel free to DM me for a referral)

Seek out neurodiverse communities for advice and support

Try body doubling! There's lot's of free online body doubling websites out there for you to try. If social anxiety is a barrier, start out with writing streams such as katecavanaughwrites on Twitch

Be aware of any sensory barriers that may be getting in the way of you writing (such as an uncomfortable desk chair, harsh lighting, bad sounds)

And Lastly, Burnout, Depression, or Other Mental Illness

What it looks like:

You have symptoms of burnout or depression

Struggling with all things, not just writing

It's more than a lack of inspiration- the spark is just dead

Things that can help:

Forget writing for now. Focus on healing first.

Seek professional help

If you feel like it, use writing as a way to explore your feelings. It can take the form of journaling, poetry, an abstract reflection of your thoughts, narrative essays, or exploring what you're feeling through your fictional characters. The last two helped me rediscover my love of writing after I thought years of depression had killed it for good. Just don't force yourself to do so, and stop if it takes you to a darker place instead of feeling cathartic

[ddejavvu]

bff james w no boundaries — his main love language is physical touch and that includes biting,, like 😭 you’ll just be minding ur own business n he’ll bite your shoulder or anywhere really.

hope ur doing well angel. ❤️

"Here, Remus," You offer up a spoon of blueberry tart to the teenage werewolf, unphased by now at the closeness of your friends. Perhaps at eleven you'd be worried about swapping cooties when sharing spoons, but now you're only worried about plumping Remus's gaunt frame up again before the next full moon.

You extend the spoon towards Remus but in doing so you have to bypass James who's sitting beside you on the bench. You'd expected him to fake a lunge for the sweet, but when he opens his mouth and sinks his teeth into what's in front of him it happens to be the flesh of your arm.

"Hey-ow!" You yelp, and despite your word choice, it doesn't really hurt. It's more of a grasp than it is a bite, just enough force to pin your arm between James's infuriatingly perfect teeth.

"Prongs," Sirius's face screws up in what you're sure is a mix of embarrassment and confusion at his friend's behavior, but perhaps there's a slight possibility of fear there, too. Fear that James has become a cannibal and the boy with the bed next to his will suffer tonight.

"That's good." James retracts his bite as quickly as he'd dished it out, smacking his lips like there'd been something swallowed and enjoyed, "That's good arm."

"You're a freak." Remus drawls, finally taking the tart from your spoon and letting the flavors wash over his tongue, "Pads and I are supposed to be the biters. Deer are just supposed to run away from everything."

"That's not true." James defends his animagus with a passion while Sirius snickers across the table, "Deer fight with their antlers. Sometimes deer fight so hard that their antlers come off. And deer do bite sometimes, thank you very much."

"Only during mating season." Sirius references the copious research they'd each done into their animal counterparts, "Don't steal another page from the dog book and start humping her leg, Prongs."

"It is not my mating season!" James exclaims, just a bit too loud for the social setting you're in. Your cheeks are blazing but thankfully James is making a fool of himself enough that no one is studying you. "I'm simply overcome with the urge to sink my teeth into people when I'm feeling particularly fond of them. Y/N's making sure Moony's stomach isn't flatter than his ribcage, and I appreciate that. Only a good woman shares her blueberry tart. Hence," He grins, more of a baring of his teeth than a smile, "I bite."

He leans down to take a chunk out of your shoulder this time, and you feel the sharp-but-gentle pricking of his teeth even through three layers of clothing.

You have the time and the power to raise your shoulder and clock James in the teeth with your bone. But you refrain, and perhaps that's why Sirius finally latches onto you instead of James.

"Careful, darling." He warns, his own canines glinting in the candlelight above, "Deer can go rabid. I'd make sure you're not contaminated with his saliva if I were you."

"Too late." James grumbles around the meat of your shoulder, raising his head quicker than you can react to lick a fat, wet stripe across your face, "I'm not rabid, Pads. But I can see why you dogs do the licking thing. It's not bad."

"Yes it is." You decide, smearing away his sticky spit with the sleeve of your button-up, feeling the phantom sensation of his teeth on your skin, "And if you do it again I'll bite you back."

"Kinky, you two." Sirius kicks you beneath the table, a wicked grin on his face, "Remus, I think we should take our meal elsewhere. Prongs and Y/N are about to start necking right in front of the pastries, and that's not the glaze I prefer on my donuts."