#which I don’t believe in as a concept but that���s what this is so i hope the tag serves its purpose

[slttygeto]

I'd love to see me from your pov — GOJO S.

synopsis: Gojo Satoru seems to struggle with the idea of love and doesn't quite know where to stand. Luckily for him, you're there to soothe his worries every time.

word count: 2,1k

content warning: a tiny bit of angst, but you know me and my love for this man.

note: hi hello there :)! it's October which means it's the 4th year anniversary since the release of ariana's album positions! I adore that album with all of my being, and what better way to show my love than to dedicate some of my favorite songs to my favorite anime men? enjoy reading!

Satoru has never known what love is. His parents’ marriage was an arranged one, his mother’s good looks and her status along with his father’s powerful technique is what brought them together. And nine months later, the wielder of the six eyes was born. Raised in an environment where his father was barely around, the only warmth he’s ever felt was his mother’s hand holding his smaller one as she walks him around the Gojo estate, showing off the boy whose birth altered the balance of the world. 

Then she was off to do her duties as Madame Gojo. 

Satoru remembers his childhood as being extremely dull. He was forbidden from social interactions, was told that they are useless unless the person was of any benefit to him or his powers—which at the time, six year old Satoru didn’t understand but he had no choice but to comply with his father’s words. 

Bright pair of blue eyes would then follow his father’s figure as he made his way towards the sliding paper door, but before he could leave, the tall man turned towards his wife whose eyes remained glued to her lap before announcing. 

“I’ll be off.” Whether that meant for hours, days or weeks, Satoru never knew. 

Logically, that led to the creation of his image on love and marriage. He avoided the two concepts like the plague. Love was always meant to find others before it could even glance his way, and Satoru was okay with that. 

He was okay with spending the rest of his time alone, maybe he would buy a house on the top of a hill and own a nice border collie dog. Perhaps, that dog would show him a little bit of loyalty and love because Satoru feeds it and takes it on walks, but when the sun goes down and the dog goes to sleep, it would be just Satoru and his thoughts. Dying alone sounded scary, but it was better than ending up like his parents.

“Are you okay?” The tall man feels a gentle squeeze on his large hand. Suddenly, he’s pulled back into the present. 

The smell of fresh roses and the cold breeze overwhelm his senses. He blinks and realizes that he must’ve taken off his blindfold somewhere—Satoru can’t remember where, or why he got so lost in his thoughts.

“Satoru?” That voice. That sweet, warm and honeyed voice, barely above a whisper as it calls out his name and he gets another whiff of something—perfume.

Your perfume.

You’re standing next to him, smaller frame and smaller hand squeezing his own and he remembers why he was pulled back into his childhood. 

You had squeezed his hand the same way his mother did. Except this time, you don’t pull away like she does. In fact, you haven't pulled away in years. 

When Suguru left, Satoru was trying to piece himself back together within the confines of his own place. Quiet, cold and unwelcoming. He despised the feeling, it made him feel like shit and Satoru was usually the type to ignore his feelings—so when they come crashing against him in strong waves, the strongest can’t duck down and avoid them, he can’t swim away and find refuge. He chooses to believe that he is his own refuge, even if he’s messy and selfish and quite literally just a jerk. The strongest was unable to save his own best friend from a fate that is so horrible, one that could’ve easily been avoided had he looked harder. 

Had he not been raised that way. 

“Satoru?” 

On a cold October night in 2007, you show up at Satoru’s apartment with food and homemade sweets. You’re sweaty, clearly having climbed up the stairs since you had no access to the elevator. He sees you, he cannot process the reason for your sudden visit until he sees your lip quiver and your eyes fill with tears.

“I’m sorry.” You say with so much emotion that the teenager can only try to stop himself from digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands. 

Although he only realizes it years later, the only person who had shown Satoru that he was worth a bit of love was Suguru. He had been your classmate too, your friend. You’re grieving his absence too, but you choose to stay with Satoru that night. He doesn’t say much, you don’t press him about it. 

He doesn’t understand why. 

A couple of months pass, your visits become more regular. He buys you a mattress and even suggests you move in with him in the guest room of his apartment. And after much consideration, you agree and the two of you become roommates.

What had once been a cold, uncomfortable apartment slowly turns into a refuge for Satoru, a place he looks forward to coming back to after a long day of missions. Was it because of the smell of food that fills the hallway as he approaches the door, or the thought of finding you in there when he inserts the key? Satoru isn’t sure yet.

He’s still a bit confused as to why you want to be around him.

Months turn into years, your presence remains a constant in his and Megumi’s lives when he takes him in. You have your own room that you choose to share with Tsumiki and you treat the two children like your own. The strongest believes that your heart is as big as the oceans combined.

For someone whose youth was stolen away by the Jujutsu society, Satoru tries to make sure that his students don’t meet the same fate. So he takes on countless missions, protects students like they’re his own children and promises them a bright future. Even if it’s at the expense of his own. 

You hate that, and you make it clear to him the day he takes in Yuuta.

“That’s such bullshit.”

“Hey, watch it.”

“No, you listen to me!” This is the most emotion you’ve shown since that one night you came to visit him. Satoru looks up from his phone where he’s sitting, and is a bit taken aback when he sees your eyes fill up with tears. “Do you realize how dangerous it is to be going around and doing shit like that?” 

“What–saving them?”

“Ruining your future!” You raise your hands in the air. 

“I don’t have a future.” 

The room falls silent. Suddenly, you’re glad that Megumi and Tsumiki weren’t home. Your eyes meet his, and the white haired male watches as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. There’s a thousand expressions on your face—betrayal? Hurt? Worry? He can’t decipher them.

He is overwhelmed. His six eyes are screaming at him that your cursed energy was elevating, your body temperature was rising and he can see that your chest is heaving. 

He still doesn’t realize what he had just said. 

To him, it was the truth. There was nothing morbid about his words. If he couldn’t see himself marrying or falling in love, then Satoru simply did not have a future. Those children do, and that’s what he should prioritize.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t–”

“Satoru–” you lose your breath as you utter his name, broken and weak. You gulp harshly, heart pounding loudly in your ears. “You can’t say that.”

It’s selfish, you’re aware of that, but it can’t be helped. You watch as the light of the man you had been clinging onto like a lifeline for years starts to dim, and you scramble to find the source of the problem. 

And while Satoru’s six eyes are screaming at him to walk away, his heart pins him to the ground of his living room. Overwhelmed and emotional, it reminds him of that one lonely night. He can’t tell you how he feels, he can’t pinpoint to you that it’s because of his parents that his heart refuses to let him accept the idea of love. He sees the waves coming, large and tall and ready to destroy him years later—as he scrambles to find refuge, his heart finally feels at ease.

Your arms wrap tightly around his middle, chin resting on his shoulder and your hands digging into his shoulders in an attempt to soothe him. You want to stop your chest from stuttering, but your quivering lip gives away your strong emotions. 

“I’ll stay.” 

Why would you stay? 

His arms feel heavy as he lifts them up and finally rests them on your warm body, pulling you so close to him you feel yourself suffocate. It doesn’t matter. Satoru hugs you so tightly that you hear your heart break. 

You don’t comment on the wet feeling on your shoulder, or the way his hands tremble as they grip the back of your shirt. You let him cling onto you as though you were the air he needed to breathe, the warmth he sought in the middle of the coldest nights. 

—

“Thank you.” 

“Hm?” You look to your side, a bit confused. The white haired man thinks you look very adorable when you’re clueless, trying to understand his words. 

“Thank you? What for?” Satoru isn’t one to get nervous, but your stare has him feeling a little hot. He hopes he isn’t blushing, it doesn’t suit his brand. 

“For saying yes.” This time, he is the one who squeezes your hand and you hold back a chuckle at how he avoids eye contact. You squeeze his hand back and lean your head against his shoulder.

“I would be crazy not to marry you.” 

“But you know… given my line of work, and Suguru—”

“Satoru,” you stop the man before he can carry on with his small ramble. You appreciate how vocal he is, it is one of the major changes to his personality ever since the two of you made it official. “I am a sorcerer as well. I understand.”

“You hate the missions I take.”

“I hate the way the higher ups view you, not the missions you take.”

Silence engulfs the two of you. 

You fidget with your hands, feeling as though you might’ve crossed a line your husband wasn’t ready to let you cross yet—

“And you?”

“Huh?”

“How do you view me?” He asks, voice low and small. He still doesn’t look at you, nor does he look anywhere really. Despite being 28 years old, Satoru feels the same way he felt at 6 years old. Vulnerable, worthless and in need of a reminder of what he brought to this world other than his powers–

“You’re handsome.” You break his chain of thoughts with a lot of ease, and he looks up at you with wide eyes. “A handsome, caring young man with a big,” a finger traces his heart over his shirt, “big heart. You have a child-like spirit, and a boy-ish smile that could make anyone fall for you very easily. I don’t want to focus too much on your looks, but they’re unfortunately a huge part of who you are,”

“You’re selfless.” You lean against the balcony railings, staring down at the city. “People take you for granted and either you don’t seem to notice, or you try not to.”

“And last, you’re too good for this world.” 

Your eyes sparkle as you describe every small detail about the man. You pour all of your emotions into your tiny monologue, so you fail to notice that Satoru had removed his hands off the railings. Until you feel something warm on your sides and something heavy on your shoulder. 

“Satoru?”

“I’m fine,” his broken voice would beg to differ, but you don’t push him. You rest your hands on top of his and let him pull you back against his chest in a warm, tight hug. 

He had always wanted to see himself through your eyes, filled with so much adoration and trust that it made his heart burst in his chest. He was riddled with confusion and something he couldn’t quite decipher anytime you had told him ‘of course it was you’ when he would do something nice, or ‘you’re not like that’ when you heard Nanami mumble something about Satoru’s playful behavior. 

You wish you could give him your eyes, take away some of that overwhelming feeling of being the wielder of the six eyes and allow him to rest—see himself as the selfless, kind-hearted man that he was to you. 

Since that was physically impossible, you’ll stick to loving him as though he held the universe between his palms.

You make loving him seem as easy as breathing, and the inner child living deep within him is forever grateful for that. 

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[salemlunaa]

VOID STATE EXPLAINED: HOW TO GET THE LIFE YOU DREAM OF ᥫ᭡

A TELL-ALL GUIDE TO THE METHOD EVERYONE IS TALKING ABOUT

so in my asks i have alot of people going “sai, you always go on and on and on and on about the void and different problems people may have, but you never explain what it is and how to get there”And to be honest with you, most of my posts were meant to be that way because i knew of other blogs explaining the void and my blog was just meant to be follow up posts for those who already knew about the void. Although, now i feel more confident and equipped to explain the void in its entirety.

so strap in for this long ass post because this is a gonna be THE guide (if you can’t tell i’m very excited for this post)

i just wanna say that this post is an inspiration and a remix of all those that have inspired me

1. What is the void?

so as you can see yourself and life right now is you in the physical plane (the notorious 3D) you are experiencing the world as *your name* *your lastname*, and your experience is confined by the way that you initially came into the world, being y/n y/ln . The void, originally known as the “I AM” state is when you leave that experience behind, you leave the physical world behind and become nothing and everything at the exact same time. And doing so you can create and destroy absolutely anything in your experience = your reality which is why people call their destination after the void their “dr”=“desired reality”.

2. Why the void?

This method is seen as very effective and efficient once you know how to do it right because it’s a “method” in which your subconscious mind is in full control, which means you can do absolutely anything and that’s not some conspiracy or belief, it is a fact that when entering this subconscious-based meditation state that you can do absolutely anything, which is why i said that you have the power to create and destroy anything in the physical plane, altering your experience. You can change your genetics, your family and friends, your wealth, gender, where you live and much more. You can also redesign things, like a country for you to live in, your age, your s/o’s age, your memories and just your life in general. Just one trip to the void and all that you dream of is yours.

The void doesn’t have to be pitch black you can design it anyway you like, i see alot of people in my dms and asks, saying that the pitch black scares them, but your void can look anyway you want.

personally i’m not scared but i just wanted my void to look cute so i added pink stars to the pitch black

3. How do i get to the void?

There are many ways to get into the void, you can follow a guided many meditation, you can listen to subliminals or waves, you can simply affirm, you can visualise, or you can simply do none of these and go into the void with just the intent, KNOWING that it’s apart of you. You don’t need any method to tap into the void, all you need is yourself and the intent, knowing it’s apart of you and not some magical fairyland. You can enter at anytime of day, because you’re a god and don’t need to be confined to “time”. “Time” is a malleable concept and i’ll be dammed if you guys waste your days because you only believe that you can tap in at night.

4. Problems people have with the void

3 things: wavering, laziness and putting the void on a damn pedestal

a lot of you guys fail to enter the void simply because you try to enter. all the things i have said about the void make it almost impossible to believe, a golden ticket to your dream life with one trip to the void. And because of the fact that we have been conditioned to believe that we have to work for everything we have, this just seems to good to be true. and you see the void as some magical place when it’s YOU, the void is YOU, why do you think you affirm “I Am”? well it’s because the void is literally the state of you being everything but nothing, it is not a place it is a state, hence the void STATE, the “I Am” STATE. it’s a meditative state and that’s it.

When you enter the "I AM" state, why do you affirm phrases like "I am, I am pure consciousness, I am the void, I am unattached to any reality, I am faceless and formless"? It's because these affirmations align you with your divine essence, your true God Self. However, this practice is often short-lived. You enter this state briefly, and when you don't experience any immediate changes or wake up in the same shitty reality, you begin to doubt. You think, "Why hasn't it worked? I must be doing something wrong. I'll try again tonight." This is what wavering looks like. You declare yourself to be in the "I AM" state, but when it doesn’t immediately manifest, you believe it hasn't worked and attempt to re-enter it repeatedly. This endless cycle of trying can confuse your subconscious mind. Instead of truly embodying the state, you're constantly oscillating, creating inconsistency and doubt.

STOP TRYING AND START BEING, OR YOU WILL GET NOWHERE

the void is the easiest thing ever and it is owed to you, because it is you

you can literally enter right now and have every single thing you’ve ever wanted, with just a meditation state, the void isn’t the one with the power it’s you. The void is inside of you and it is lifeless, the only time it gains any power is when YOU step into the equation. As i once said, the void is your bitch not the other way around.

5. Unhealthy relationships

Although the void is one of the best methods i know, i would hate for anyone to accumulate an unhealthy, toxic relationship with the void. The void is as easy as breathing, i know, but it can be alot for some of us to wrap our heads around due to the way we have been conditioned to think (which hurts my heart more than you know). I see people spend months and years trying to get into the void going through an emotionally taxing experience with it. Although i tell people it doesn’t matter how much time you’ve “wasted” and not to let that discourage you because you could really enter now if you put your mind to it (no pun intended) , if you know that it has been eating you up trying for the void going around a constant cycle, please take a break or use other methods.

now with that i say go, go and redesign yourself, deconstruct yourself and create the new you, start from scratch and make your dream self, go to the void and get your dream life.

don’t try, just be 🌊💋

i really hope you loved this as much as i do, now go get your dream life -salem ᥫ᭡

[taintandviolent]

Taco Tuesday ; Gambit x reader!

summary: You live across the hall from Wade Wilson, and one Tuesday, he invites you over for tacos. 🌮 And that’s where you meet him. The Gambit. Post-Void, everyone got out alive and everything is fine. [PART TWO HERE]

word count & w a r n i n g s: 5.4K | smut with very little plot, alcohol mention, slightly drunk (but very consenting) reader, French and typing out accents/dialects, pet names (cher, mon ami, mon coeur, etc.), dirty talk (cos he is a dirty talker, don't argue with me on this), fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, no use of y/n.

a/n: this is based 100% on Deadpool and Wolverine Gambit / Channing's version of Gambit!! sorry for the lack of plot here, he deserves better than this filth, but I am down ASTRONOMICALLY and I needed to get it out. I spent so much time trying to get his accent right, I hope it comes off the way I wanted it to... anyway! i'm not certain if anyone will read this, but if you do - thank you a million times over! as always, requests are open! - banner by @/strangergraphics, and Remy gif by @scintie!

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

He’s handsome. Like really handsome. 

Your stomach does a flip as he smiles at you, reaching for the bottle of Jack between your legs — wait. Pause. Rewind. How’d we get here?

Living in the same apartment complex as Wade Wilson was a trip. Even more of a trip was living across the hall from him. The things you heard coming from that apartment... nobody would believe you. So, you never told anyone. 

He’s kind. Albeit, zany but kind. Your interactions have been cordial and nauseatingly neighbourly. But on one regular ol' Tuesday afternoon, Wade invited you inside. He said something about having a party later that night, making tacos and being neighborly. He assured you that it wasn't a sex party... which to be honest, you weren't worried about until he'd mentioned it. Against your better judgement though, you'd agreed, and said you'd bring some liquor.

So, that evening, you opened your door, one bottle of Jack tucked under your arm, and another in your left hand. You shut the door to your apartment and walked straight across to your neighbour’s door. Your fist had rapped against the wood only twice before the door swung open, revealing Wade, and a very… strange and very bald looking dog in his arms. 

"Oh, what the fuck?" You asked, looking down at the creature. "I didn't know you had a dog…?"

Wade’s voice rose an octave or two, in a cutesy tone. "She's a new addition, yes she is!" 

"I brought... well, this. Sorry, it was all I had in my cabinets and to be perfectly honest, I wasn't about to go out and spend money on this. I like… barely know you."

"HA! Brutal honesty. We love to hear it." 

Wade took hold of your shoulder and yanked you inside, harsh enough that you made a small sound as he did. He shut the door with his foot, and towed you towards the table, where everyone was gathered. And that was when you first saw him. He wore all black, save for a tan trench coat with a high collar. He lounged casually on one of the dining chairs, playing with a deck of cards. They fluttered from hand to hand effortlessly, and for a moment, you were stuck, mesmerized by the dexterous way he handled them. You weren't sure what was pulling you towards him harder, your heart or your cunt, but you felt an undeniable draw to the man.

Wade's arm wound itself around your shoulders, guiding you around the room to meet each of his friends. At that point, living next to him, mutants were a forced transition. You were used to the concept of them, so meeting a giant silver man, for example, wasn't unexpected. Vanessa was the most normal - you were pretty sure she was human.

Finally, he got to the one you really wanted to meet. The one that your eyes had been darting back and forth to the entire time, the one that when he briefly met your gaze, your heart thudded in your chest. 

"And this... handsome slice of man, is the Gambit. Good luck understanding him, he's a real mouthful."

I’ll bet he is, you thought. 

He pocketed the cards in a quick motion and stood up from his chair. With a syrup-smooth chuckle, the man laughed and said: "You can call me Remy." He did in fact have a thick Cajun accent and spoke quickly – almost too quickly. You blinked once, focusing hard on his words.

"Remy," you repeated finally, before saying your own name and extending your hand. He took it gently and as he shook it, your palm tingled with what felt like electricity.

"Enchanté." (Enchanted)

Your cheeks burned, and you knew they were flushing. You couldn’t control it. "De même..." (Likewise.)

His brows lifted, surprised. "You speak French, mon ami?" (my friend) 

"Heh, uhh... comme un enfant." (Like a child) You chuckled low, averting your eyes for a millisecond. "I took a few years of it in high school and again in college. I’m by no means an expert."

Wade's eyes were wide, flicking back and forth between the two of you. There was obvious chemistry there, and a knowing smirk drew itself across his lips. Abruptly, he yanked one of the bottles of Jack Daniels from beneath your arm, before leaning against the nearby wall.

"Oh, fuck me. You understand Gumbo here? That’s cute. No idea what either of you are saying though, someone forgot to turn the subtitles on. I'll leave you two to get acquainted." Whatever that meant. You scoffed, but turned your attention back to Gambit, looking at him.

“Sit a while, cher.” 

You happily took the chair that he pulled out, not caring that it was facing away from the others, and plopped down onto it, situating the other bottle of Jack between your legs. You gripped the neck of the bottle tightly, and looked at him with a timid, but a come hither sort of smile. After a moment, you twisted the cap off, and flicked it off somewhere to your right. Wade would find it later, or he wouldn’t. You didn’t really care. 

You two talked for hours, most of which consisted of him telling you about the Void, and how hard it had been, while you pretended to comprehend it. Between words, you passed the bottle back and forth, taking mouthfuls, and inadvertently swapping spit as you did. The thought occurred to you about halfway through the conversation, and your stomach tightened. You shook your head lightly and clenched your thighs together, trying to stave off the arousal that was bubbling in your core. 

There we go. That’s better.

He’s handsome. Like really handsome. 

Your stomach does a flip as he smiles at you, reaching for the bottle, which was still situated between your legs. His fingertips just graze the side of your thigh and his eyes flit to yours. He holds his smile, waiting for you to either protest or move the moment forward, and all you can do is gawk, because your cunt starts throbbing. 

As the evening wears on, though cautious, it’s obvious that Remy feels the same pull that you do. He remains cool on the outside, but internally, he was battling the magnetic tugging he felt from you. He couldn't shake it. He’d compliment you, you’d compliment him. At one point, in between sips, you casually drop that you think his accent is hot and he whispers something underneath his breath, something you don’t understand. Before either of you realized it, you had started to lean closer to each other, your faces inches apart, and you felt the warm rush of his breath over your cheeks.

It was as if you both realized it simultaneously. You rear back, an embarrassed expression plastered on your face. Remy clears his throat. His attraction to you was stifling; something that he rarely felt. He was powerless in his want for you, the draw you had was irresistible.

"Maybe we should... uh..." You murmur, looking deep into his eyes. In a room full of people that were starting to fade away the closer you two got to each other, you were thankful you were still sober enough to suggest a different setting. Any longer and you surely would’ve just straddled him and gone to town. 

Remy moves first. 

"We gon' take a walk." He announces to the others, getting to his feet. 

The conversation stops abruptly, silence hanging heavy. You straighten up, trying your best to avert your gaze, but you still see everyone’s reaction. Someone clears their throat and your heart sinks, feeling like you might die on the spot. The one that had been introduced as Logan, gruff looking dude, raises a single brow at you. In true Wade-character, he ugly cackles, shattering the moment. Your shoulders sink, embarrassed, as you head towards the door, doing the proverbial walk of shame. 

Remy meets you at the door and pulls it open, holding it for you. You duck underneath his arm, looking sheepish and as you exit into the hallway, you think you heard Wade mutter something about a fanfiction but Remy yanks the door shut before you can react. 

“You want to… get some air? Or um… I have… well, no I had liquor, but I brought it to Wade’s.” 

He smiles, and looks down at the floor, before lifting his eyes back to you. “We can do whatever you want, chère. You ain’t gon’ catch me complainin’ eitha’ way.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, considering the options. Your heart was hammering in your chest at the prospect of just being near him without the others around. You two had been close to kissing in Wade’s living room, and now, you had the opportunity to continue that… or take a walk. The latter seemed less appealing. 

“Y’know what, why don’t we… just…” You take a few steps backwards, jerking your head towards your front door. Concerningly, you had forgotten to lock your door. However, it allows you to open it quickly, and walk backwards into the apartment. Gambit follows you in, his attention never leaving you. 

"You sure 'bout dis, mon ami? I can walk away righ' now." His words land heavy, a promise behind them. He was a gentleman at heart, you could tell. Fortunately for him, you were very sure, and wanted every inch of him.

Mon ami - something that in the few hours you'd spent with him, he'd called you often. Among other things. Mon ami meant my friend, but you knew you two weren't just friends. You saw how he acted with others, and the comments he made. Sure, he had a quick wit and a mouth on him, but the flirting... god, the flirting.

He stands in the doorway, his shoulders filling the frame. Silently, you nod and take another step back, giving him some room to enter. He takes one wide step towards you, leaving the door open behind him. He reaches for your hip, and you immediately take to playing with his large hands. Delicately, you pay attention to each long digit, trailing your middle finger along the knuckles, and up and down the length of them. You dip into the spaces between, your fingers barely ghosting over the webbing. 

Was that a shiver? Your eyes flit to his, searching them for a hint.

"You sure do know how to make a man feel good." 

Your heart flutters at his words. With his accent, even the simplest of things sounded charming. At least to you. You felt that he could ask if you wanted coffee or how the weather was and you'd be twirling your hair around your finger like a desperate schoolgirl. Embarrassing. 

You’re about to respond and defend yourself by saying that all you had done was play with his hands, which was hardly considered foreplay, but his fingers come up underneath your chin, gently closing your mouth with a dull click of your teeth. He tilts it upwards to an angle where he could easily kiss you. And kiss you, he does. 

It was the kind of kiss that makes your knees buckle, sends a violent shudder from the nape of your neck down to the base of your spine. It’s the kind of kiss that needs to come with a warning; Danger: Will Result In Sex. As his lips move against yours, you feel the urgency of his need, of his want, and hum into his lips. Remy takes that as a green light and deepens the kiss, moving his body so that it’s pressing flush against yours. The action leaves you immediately breathless and in response, you break the kiss, tucking your chin to your chest. Your hand finds his torso, pressing hard against the muscles underneath the shirt.  

"Ah, don't you be actin' shy now. You been teasin' me for hours."

“I have not!”

“You think I didn’t notice all ‘dem touches an’ looks you were givin’ me? I may ‘ave been born at night, but I wasn’t born last night.” 

He had you there. You couldn’t deny that, at all. Even if you’d wanted to. Which, part of you did. Part of you was very nervous, standing before this very handsome man, with the taste of his mouth still lingering on your lips but another part of you, the louder one, was delighted that he’d noticed. Furthermore, that he’d enjoyed them enough to come to your room.

You lift your hand behind him, pushing the door shut with a harsh shove. With a twist of your fingers, you activate the locking mechanism, sliding the deadbolt into place. Gambit chuckles, grinning down at you. Your heart leaps into your throat, but you press on bravely, lacing your arms around his neck. They trail down the front of his body, feeling the muscles as they twitch with each ragged breath. 

He quirks a brow as if to ask, 'Oh, really?' You simply smirk back at him. The contact is electric, and you find yourself resisting the urge to grind against him immediately. Instead, you focus on his hands again, bringing one of them up to your lips. You press a delicate kiss on the pads, before slipping one into your mouth and sucking gently. Remy makes a deep, husky sound in his throat, and brings his other hand to your hip, where he pulls you roughly against him.

For a man that uses his hands often, the sensations are high. The way your mouth envelops his finger, your tongue writhing around the digit had his jaw clenching, muscles fluttering on the side of his face. When you draw his finger into the confines of your throat, deep-throating it, his eyes roll back in pleasure. He pulls his hand back, shaking it off as if the inside of your mouth was hot to the touch.

"Woo, you nasty, huh? Nevah’ woulda' guessed... you been actin' like a good little girl 'uhround me." 

After that, it all happened very quickly. Gambit takes a step and connects his lips with yours again, pushing them into you in an act of desperation. Without breaking the kiss, he shrugs out of his jacket, tossing it onto a nearby surface. You push against him until his back hits the door with a heavy thud, definitely loud enough for any innocent bystanders to hear. Your fingers undo the button of your jeans, breaking the kiss for only a second to slide them down your legs. 

Once you return to his waiting mouth, the kiss deepens and the coil in your stomach winds tighter, claiming your body in a deep, fiery arousal. His big arms wrap around you, enveloping you in a heated embrace. Just for a moment, it’s tender — but shortly after, his hands drop to your ass, fingers slipping underneath the band of fabric to take greedy fistfuls of each cheek. 

Your hands find their way to his shoulders, gripping the roundness of them to use as leverage. Letting out a little hum, you sweep your hips across his groin, pressing tightly against him. His eyes drift shut, head bumping against the door as he leaned it back, a low growl coming from his throat. Keeping at it, you grind your hips against him, feeling the outline of his length as it hardens.

“You be drivin’ Remy crazy, grindin’ on me like ‘dat.”

“That’s the intention….” You stand on your tiptoes to pepper kisses on his lips, your warm breath fanning over his face, smelling faintly of Jack Daniels. Remy trails his hand carefully up your rib cage until he gets to the side of your breast, where he quickly slips around to the front, his large hand cupping the fullness of it outside of your shirt. Your reaction is visceral; your breath hisses through your teeth at the sensitivity. 

Remy laughs again and with his free hand, pulls your hips back to his. Swiftly, he spins you around, pinning you between his body and the hard surface of the door. He presses himself tightly against you, shifting slightly so that his thigh was between your legs. The sensation of something that close to your core is dangerous and brings a weak, mewling whimper from your mouth.

“We gon’ have ourselves some fun.” His voice is low, tinged with a new sort of lustful tone that you hadn't heard before. Your mind is spinning, growing dizzy with lust. The alcohol had certainly helped your nerves, you were never usually this brazen. Your core burns with desire at his words, silently begging for everything he was about to give you. His lips hover just over yours; you can feel his breath on your skin and the heat that radiates off his body as it presses into yours.

"Oh my god," you whisper into his mouth. "Fuck..."

His teeth nip at your bottom lip before he captures your mouth in a heated, passionate kiss again. His tongue explores the inside, swirling along your own wet muscle. With every passing second, your heart beats faster and his hands grip your hips tighter, thumbs massaging the flesh above your jeans.

“Wrap ‘dem legs around me, mon coeur.” (My heart) Remy’s voice is husky with want; amongst his playful, lilted tone, a possessiveness lingered, and the thought sends a chill down your spine. He nods once, encouraging you into his waiting arms. You jump up, and he catches you effortlessly, gripping your thighs tight and hoisting you up into his grasp. Feeling secure, you wrap both legs around his waist and encircle his neck with your arms. Your gaze meets his and you can see the wanton need mirrored in his own eyes, darkened with desire.

Remy's smirk is dripping with confidence. Your body's response to him was causing his ego to swell within his chest, and his cock to swell within his pants. He leans in close, his lips against your ear, nipping at the lobe softly before pulling back slightly. In one fluid movement, his hips buck up against your center, teasing you over the layers of clothing. You let out a moan, throwing your head back against the door.

He thrusts up into you again, chuckling low against your ear. The hard line of his cock grinds against you, making you stutter out expletives as it presses against you with a needy demand. 

"You like 'dat, cher? Talk t' me..."

You nod, swallowing and wetting your throat. "Y-yeah, fuck... I do... need you – it – so bad."

“Whaddya’ need?”

“N-need you… so bad.” 

“You can do betta’. Tell Remy what you need...” 

He presses you harder against the door, your back sliding against the wood as he kisses a trail down from your mouth to your shoulder, sucking and biting with all the right intensities. As his hips grind against yours, you feel the damp fabric slide across your cunt, alerting you to just how wet he’d made you. Fuck. 

“Need… need you to fuck me. Hard. Need to feel you everywhere.”  

A few hours ago, you’d agreed to Taco Tuesday at Wade’s. Now, you were getting dry humped by a really hot Cajun guy and moaning into the curve between his neck and his shoulder. You were positive that if someone opened their door, they’d hear you. Somewhere in your brain, the thought should have been moderately embarrassing, but you were far too invested in Remy to care. 

Without warning, Gambit lifts you away from the door and carries you to the nearby couch. He never breaks the kiss, still feverishly claiming your mouth as he moves. Your back hits the cushions and before you can process it, his body weight is on top of you. He slots himself in between your legs, and his hard-on bumps into your stomach as his hips rut against you, finding some relief in the friction. But not enough. 

Remy’s hand finds the hem of your shirt, lifting it just enough to allow his fingers underneath the fabric. You bite down on the pillow of your bottom lip and push your hips up into his. Thick, strong digits sweep across your skin, leaving a burning trail of fire in their wake. Every touch brings your temperature up, and it isn’t long before your entire body is consumed in flames. You sigh contentedly, arching up into his touch. 

Abruptly, Remy straightens up, crosses his arms over his torso and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his tan skin and bulky muscles. His stocky stature makes your tummy clench with anticipation. He was fit, as you assumed, but that didn’t stop your jaw from falling open at the sight. 

“Wow,” you finally choke.

Remy grins. “You like what you see?” 

You nod furiously, hands snapping to his toned abdomen. He’s warm and his skin is soft, begging to be touched. The muscles flex underneath your fingers as you trace a long stripe from his belly button to his collarbone. Your hands claw at his shoulder, attempting to pull him back down on you, but he resists. 

He spoke with a playfulness, almost a sort of pleading. His thumbs flicks at the hem of your shirt. “Ah, c’mon, ‘dat ain’t fair. Enlève-tout toi, huh?” (Take it all off.)

You thought you understood, but if you didn’t, it didn’t matter. Remy was quick to translate his words, busy undressing you, pulling your worn t-shirt over your head, and reaching around your back to unclasp your bra. Most men would’ve fumbled with the clasp, but not him. His adept fingers make quick work of it, allowing your breasts to fall free. He throws your bra somewhere behind him. 

“Hooo, cher…!” His eyes light up at the visual and you feel heat blooming on your cheeks again, half expecting him to make a lewd comment. Instead, his hands cup your tits, kneading the soft plumpness like dough, thumbs grazing the nipples. He exhales through his mouth, jerking his head to the side. 

Finally, he kisses you again. It’s wet and sloppy and his mouth is consuming you, tasting you hungrily. His hips are still moving, sweeping into yours with a calculated precision. You try to spread your legs but the back of the couch thwarts your attempt. He notices this, watching as you struggle with the space. 

“You got a bed?” He asked in between smearing kisses along your neck and collarbone. 

“Yeah-yeah…. Down the hall.” 

“Remy be needin’ more room for what he wanna’ do t’you.”

His weight is suddenly gone from you, an unwelcome sensation, even though you know he’s about to carry you wedding-style down the hallway. He bends down, one arm sliding underneath your neck, the other in the crook behind your knees. For the second time that night, he lifts you into his arms.

You rest your cheek against his warm pectoral muscle, rocking back and forth, as he walks you both down the dark hallway. The only light in the room comes from the window, the city outside alive and humming. Carefully, Remy sets you down on the bed, unmade from this morning, your dark gray sheets cool to the touch. 

In nothing but your underwear, which at this point, are damp to the touch, you’re left feeling very exposed. But you can’t muster up any shame, not when he’s looking at you with such hunger, such want. Your tummy feels tight, and the feeling gets worse when Remy’s hands drop to his waist, unzipping and unbuttoning his pants. They fall loose at the waist, and he shucks them down the rest of the way, leaving him in nothing but a pair of deep purple boxers. Your eyes swing heavy to the outline that’s now presented to you. 

Oh my god. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise; Remy was a big guy, and that proved true downstairs, too. You can barely pull your eyes away from it, but you begrudgingly rip them away, to look up into his gaze. 

“Please,” you beg. “You’re too far away…” Your cunt is aching and nothing but him, his hands, his dick, will sate her. 

He leans forward, flattening both hands on the mattress and walks them back until his face is in front of yours. He sweeps you into another kiss and your heart races. His hands are perfectly positioned on either side of your hips, you feel them graze the flesh. His finger hooks around the elastic of your panties, twisting it around his pointer finger and gradually, he tugs them down over the curve of your hip.

You nod lazily against his mouth, as you feel the warmth of his hand near your core. Your legs drop apart, knees touching the mattress as you allow him access. One hand sweeps across your inner thighs, stroking them, while the other palms your soft mound. His other hand comes to pause at your knee, and pushes his weight into it softly, forcing you to stay spread-eagle for him. No way you could’ve done this on the sofa. 

There’s no hesitation in the way he fingers you; sweeping up through your slick folds, smearing your arousal around until she’s coated in it, splaying your pretty, wet cunt apart with his fingers, looking upon it hungrily. He knows what he’s doing, and how to do it right. You briefly wonder if that’s another mutant power he has… though being an expert at fingering someone seems outlandish. But he’s just so good at it. His middle finger barely touches you, circling the bundle of nerves delicately. Your back arches up towards him, a desperate groan vibrating your vocal chords. Delighted by your reaction, his finger flicks upwards at your swollen, sensitive clit, making your body literally quiver. 

“Uhugh – god…. Shit, oh my god.” 

He continues like this for several minutes, until your cunt is blazing hot and clenching with every moan you give. 

By the time he presses one finger inside, you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and your voice fills the room with needy, desperate sounds. You let out a shrill whine, and he slips in another finger, feeling the stretch of muscle as he does. His heart is pounding in his chest, overcome with lust. The way you sound, the way your body is moving and writhing on the bed, he can’t wait to sink himself into you. 

Amidst a laugh, he says: “People gon’ think we up in here watchin’ porn.”

Did he just insinuate that you sounded like a pornstar? You lifted your head, wearily, to look at him. Your chest heaves with each breath as you try to formulate a snarky remark to no avail. He looked so good – well, always – but he looked particularly good on top of you, his bright eyes lust blown and hungry. 

“We’re… we’re… porn… it’s…  oh god.” 

He shushes you. “You just lay back and keep moanin’.” 

Defeated, you huff and your head hits the sheets again, but not before you catch a glimpse of the way the muscles in his forearm ripple as it pumps back and forth into your cunt. You can’t help but moan at the sight, feeling a shockwave rupture your core. Your hips meet his fingers, rutting and writhing against the mattress in a needy rhythm.

Your first orgasm claims your body before you can stop it. You’re clenching around his fingers as they move, crooking upwards into your sensitive spots. Your slick coats his fingers and when Gambit pulls his hand back, thick, clear strands string from between them. He smiles down at you. 

Remy raises himself to his knees. “Turn ‘round…” 

You flip over and back yourself towards him, thinking that he’s going to go at it doggy-style, but to your surprise, he pulls you upright, pressing your back against his chest. His dick is hot between your legs, and when he reaches down to line it up, you let your head loll back against his shoulder. Gambit’s mouth finds the side of your neck, streaking it with wet, suckling kisses. He was taking his time with you, savouring you and you hum happily through closed lips, reaching behind you to thread your fingers through his hair.

“Fuck, you feel so good…” Instinctively, your hips undulate and his cock slips between your folds. Remy’s hips buck once, letting out a groan that comes from somewhere deep. 

“You ready, cher?” He asks, sweeping your hair away from your neck. You nod furiously. You’ve been ready – you were ready the moment you laid eyes on him.

Remy reaches down to sweep his fingers along your entrance briefly, before gripping himself and guiding the head of his cock into the slit. You keen at the feeling of his velvet-soft head pressing into your entrance, warm pre-cum leaking from the slit. He murmurs words of encouragement into your ear as you feel his hips press against your ass, urging his thick, veiny shaft inside your cunt. He does it gently, allowing you time to adjust to the girth, but the sting still makes you cry out. “Fffuck!”

He begins to thrust his hips shallowly, your cunt stretching around his cock. The feeling is all-consuming, and your body feels heavy in his grasp. One hand is gripping your waist tightly, the other, fingers splayed out on your stomach just above your cunt. There’s a pressure building in your cunt, and each thrust magnifies it. The sting of his cock fades to an ache, then to a dull throbbing that makes you want more and you lean forward slightly and press your ass into the curves of his hips, meeting his thrusts. 

“Mm, ‘dat’s it, cher…” His voice is hot on your skin. 

His thrusts get deeper, but there’s a lingering tension in his body that makes you feel like he’s not getting what he wants. You’re right; all at once, Remy pulls his cock from you and switches positions. 

You’re suddenly on your back, looking up at him as he looms over you, all muscle. His cockhead nudges your entrance again, but doesn’t penetrate. 

“Say my name, cher… I needa’ hear it leave ‘dat pretty mouth.” 

“Which one? Gambit? Or Remy?” You ask, breathlessly.

The way his eyes rolled back at the second option told you everything you needed to know. A smirk twisted your lips cruelly and you lifted your body slightly, just enough for your mouth to reach his ear. You moan his name over and over again, knowing full well the effect it’s having on the mutant man.

“Remy, Remy, Remy….” Your tone is high-pitched and whiny, but he seems to enjoy the lewdness of it all. He bucks his hips hard into you, and the fullness reaches an all-time high as he bottoms out, his pelvis hitting yours with a slap.

“Huhhh—!” You gasp, breathing ragged. “Fuck!”

“Gonna’ make you cum so hard you ain’t gon’ walk right for days.” His voice is low and filthy and leaves a stain on your mind. Your cunt clenches around him possessively, pulling him somehow deeper inside of you. 

As your head bangs into your headboard, the tip of his cock bumps your cervix over and over again, and your jaw goes slack, literally fucked silent. Remy hears the thudding of your skull and puts a hand between it and the wood, but he doesn’t stop his relentless, deep thrusting. 

The pleasure reaches a peak and your nails dig into his back, leaving crescent moon shaped indentations on his golden skin. Remy’s groaning loud into your ear as he cums, muttering in an almost incoherent melange of French and English. His accent is somehow heavier, and you can barely make out the words as he’s saying them into your skin. It doesn’t matter though, because you feel how full you are, and Remy’s hot, white completion is leaking out the sides and staining your sheets. 

He stays like that for a moment, hovering on top of you. His cock softens inside, completely spent and eventually, he slips it out, rolling over onto your bed.

“Ah, joi de vivre, huh.” (the joy of life), he says drowsily.

You laugh, and nestle underneath his arm, in the space he’s left for you. 

If you had your way, you’d do it all over again. 

Though he doesn’t say it, so would he. 

[irisintheafterglow]

don't even know, i'm talkin' nonsense

summary: on his way back from a patrol shift, your boss gets hit with a mystery quirk that affects his speech. you're the only one in the office who can help him (pro!bakugo x you).

wc: 2k

cw/tags: swearing cuz bakugo's here and he's angry, miscommunication-based comedy, idiot(s) in love, coworkers to lovers, a little bit of angst/comfort but it's just for the plot yk

note: i'm not sure where the concept of this came from; i was just listening to sabrina carpenter and was like,,,, hey i can use this. so have this! hope you like it :))

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated <3

“Okay, go over it one more time for me. I think I’ve got it,” you reassure him, only to be met with a skeptical glare. “I’m serious; I think I understand it, even though it took forever.” You tap the whiteboard of the meeting room with the red marker in your hand, slightly tired from scribbling down as much as you could comprehend from your boss’ vague gestures. He exhales deeply, dragging a hand down his face, and gives you an impatient look. “Ready when you are."

“Fucking hell, I can’t believe this is happening to me.”

“I didn’t understand a word of what you just said,” you remind him and he shoots you a withering glare that doesn’t deter you in the slightest. “And don’t try to write it, since that clearly didn’t work.” You glance at the scribbled mess of letters scratched onto a yellow notepad of paper, Bakugo’s first attempt to communicate that something was off when speech was not working.

“I fucking know that! You don’t think I can’t remember that you have no idea what I’m fucking saying?” You blink at him, desperately biting your tongue to avoid bursting out laughing. Even though Bakugo had been hit with a quirk that was creating some very entertaining moments in an otherwise bland office job, he could still make his palms crackle dangerously in warning. “Remind me to fire you when I get out of this.” You can’t control your laughter that time and you let a snort slip from your throat, wincing when his scathing eyes stare menacingly into you. 

“Sorry, I am so sorry,” you laugh quietly, attempting to subtly wipe a tear from your eye. “It’s just that…that time it was a dolphin.” You scrunch your face to avoid laughing again and try so hard that it makes your stomach hurt. Your boss continues to stand there, absolutely mortified, while you add another animal to the list of sounds that have come out of his mouth. Since he re-entered the office after a seemingly normal patrol shift, the noises of a bear, horse, mouse, tiger, monkey, a bird you couldn’t identify, and now a dolphin had exited his mouth in place of his scratchy voice. You thought it was a sneeze, the first time the bear roar had echoed through the office, but were equally perplexed when you asked him to sign a form and the only answer you received was high-pitched squeaking. 

“There’s no fucking way,” he’d muttered under his breath when you first explained to him what you thought was happening. It became all too real as his face paled when you played what your phone recorded as his “voice,” which only came out as the insistent hoots of a monkey. He was used to receiving weird looks on the street, especially when civilians realized that they were walking next to one of the top Pros in the country, but it dawned on him that they may have not heard his usual voice when he barked at them to move. “And you’re the only one in the office right now?” 

“I have no idea what you’re saying,” you inform him carefully. “But, if you’re wondering if anyone else is here to help you, there’s not.” You can only imagine what kind of colorful expletives he yelled by the unrelenting scream of bird noises that left his mouth. “And I was about to leave, so if you want me to stay and help–” 

“I don’t need your fucking help.”

“Oh, great. You’re a horse now,” you deadpan, understanding from his facial expressions alone what he was trying to communicate. “Well, if you don’t need my help, have fun explaining to the guys why you sound like you swallowed a zoo.” Your boss’ face turns bright red at the idea of showing up to dinner with his old classmates in his current state. He fires off a single, precise shot at the rubber door stop before you can exit the meeting room, effectively locking you in there with him until you sort out how to fix him. “So, you do want my help?” You turn to look at him with a knowingly innocent smirk, delighted to find him seething in place but reluctantly nodding. “What’s the magic word?” A single horse neigh echoes through the meeting room and you head to the whiteboard. “Alright, let’s get to work.”

You spent the next hour and a half playing a ridiculous game of charades with Bakugo after the alarming discovery that anything he tried to write would become illegible scribbles. You figured that it was just an effect of the Quirk itself, which seemed to give the user the ability to communicate with different animals without being understood by humans. If an eavesdropper managed to figure out what they were saying, the words would become unreadable on the page for further secrecy. Despite inconveniencing your boss and preventing you from leaving the office on time, it did serve as an important tool in the Quirk-stealing weapons trade you’d been investigating. The only issue now was to figure out where Bakugo was hit. 

“So, you’re walking down 25th.” A nod. “And make a right on Pine?” His palm hits his forehead in frustration. “No, no, not right. A left, towards 24th.” Another nod. “And that-that alley, by the coffee shop with the good strawberry milk teas?” More aggressive nodding. “That’s where you got hit? With the dart?” He slams his hand on the desk, nodding furiously. You stare at him, slightly in disbelief as you pull out a rolling chair and slump into it. “How the hell did you get pulled into that alley?” 

“Someone was screaming for help and I’m a hero so I go help them, I don’t fucking know.”

“Dolphin again,” you smirk and he rolls his eyes. “But, really. You don’t ever go that route since it’s too out of the way from where your patrol ends. What were you doing on that side of town?” He pauses, his mouth drawn into a tight line and his eyebrows drawn as he searches for an explanation in his brain. Truth be told, he had no idea what possessed him to take that route back to the office. All he could recall were snapshots, little Polaroids of information that, if he pieced them together, made a relatively cohesive explanation. He’d snapped at you unfairly, a common snap of his temper, but the hurt on your face affected him more than he was willing to admit. Something bothered him about your tense expression and it continued to bother him when he was out of the office and kicking villains into the dirt. It seemed like instinct was the only reason why he headed in the direction of the cafe with the strawberry milk he knew you liked. “Well?”  

He blinks at you once, twice, and then stands abruptly and swings open the door. You watch him through the room’s tall windows as he enters his private office briefly and exits with a cardboard drink holder. A minute later, a plastic cup with the taut seal unbroken is unceremoniously set in front of you, along with a large straw to suck up the extra strawberry bits he knew you always ordered. 

“What is this?”

“What does it look like, idiot?”

“I know it looks like a drink, but why did you get it for me?” His eyes widen with the idea that you could understand him again, but you’re quick to shut him down. “And no, I can’t understand you yet. Right now, you’re a tiger.” You half expect him to launch the other drink, something brown sugar looking, at the wall; instead, he pulls out the chair next to you and stabs his straw into the plastic, gesturing for you to do the same. You obey hesitantly, eyeing him curiously as he avoids your questioning expression. “Thank you.” He huffs, something you’ve learned is the only response he gives to gratitude. “You really didn’t need to do this.”

“I hurt your fucking feelings, of course I needed to.” You’re staring at him again, you and your pretty eyes and kind smile and uncanny ability to withstand even his most fiery temper tantrums. He’d discovered his feelings for you months ago and it was like a speed bump was put in front of him every time you were near, always making him trip or say something stupid. Bakugo was never known to be good with his words or his feelings, but you made him feel so warm inside that he’d be a fool to deny what it was. “I guess it’s good that you can’t understand me right now because I can vent about how stupid you make me feel.” You hum, a fond glint catching in your eye. 

“That’s a new one. You’re a chicken right now.” You laugh and he can feel his forehead get airy, like he’d chugged three sojus. What he felt was sweeter, though, without the bitter taste that always followed alcohol. To him, you were pure light. 

“Makes sense, ‘cause I’m too much of a dumbass to tell you how much I care about you. Fuckin’ idiot.” 

“You sure have a lot to say, boss. Go on and let me pretend I’m on a poultry farm.” You take another sip of your drink and close your eyes, appreciating his unexpected gift. “A much needed vacation, in my opinion.”

“There you go again with your stupid sarcasm and your stupid laugh. You’re insufferable, you know that? Always making me run around in circles because I don’t know what I’m fucking doing around you.” You raise your eyebrows melodramatically and nod at him slowly, still having no idea what he’s trying to communicate. “You’re lucky you’re pretty because if you were anyone else, I’d fucking deck them right now.” Your attention shoots to him but gives no indication that you comprehended what he just said, so he goes on. “I wanna take you out to dinner sometime, but I think I’m a little too proud to admit how much I like you. Fucking hell, you don’t know what you do to me.” 

“Hey, boss?”

“The fuck do you want?”

“The Quirk wore off,” you breathe, in complete shock from what he just unknowingly confessed to you. You’d be less surprised if he’d told you that he murdered his way up to the top three. “You started speaking normally when you said,” you pause to try to slow your racing pulse in your ears, “that I was pretty.” You sneak a look at him out of the corner of your eye to find him bright red and mirroring your wide-eyed expression. “I guess the effects wore off pretty fast?” 

“Yep,” he forces out. “Must have.”

“You really think I’m pretty?”

“It’s why I got you the fucking drink, stupid,” he mumbles, still examining the shiny wood of the table. “Didn’t want you to be sad.” An idea pops into your head and you shrug, leaning nonchalantly back into your chair. You can feel his eyes watching you, reading your body language.

“I know something that would make me less sad.” 

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” You shrug and let the corner of your mouth turn up, brushing a stray blonde hair from his face. You didn’t think it was possible to turn such a deep shade of pink and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t amused by how miserable he looked. 

“Take me out to dinner,” you reply, chuckling at the way his nostrils flare. “Repeat all the stuff you said while you were speaking zookeeper. Beside the love confession, of course. I understood that pretty well.” 

“God, you’re ridiculous,” he mutters, grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the office. “Next time I get you that strawberry milk, you’ll be there with me. Then we’ll both have that stupid quirk.” 

“Mmm, great. We can both tell each other how much we like each other while speaking dolphin.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[blackrabbittwst]

Hi! Can i have a request a hcs of idia and malleus (seperate) with his s/o who is loving/affectionate, loyal and caring towards him?

A/N: Awww of course! These shy/awkward bois deserve so much love! They just don’t understand haha

A/N: I did try to briefly reread this, so I hope it is okay. I basically wrote Idia a year ago and never finished Malleus until now.

Synopsis: A loving and affectionate s/o who is also loyal and caring

Characters: Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia

Pairings: Idia Shroud x Reader, Malleus Draconia x Reader

Gender/Pronoun: Gender Neutral

Warnings: N/A

Idia Shroud

To be honest, he wouldn’t understand how and when you both even started dating. You were such an incredible, kind person that he feels like he doesn’t deserve to love someone like you! Even with the experience playing dating simulation games to boost his confidence while also getting comfortable talking about his feelings, he would still be a big bumbling mess.

He would think that the moment you both agreed to date, he somehow scored the best SSR gatcha, ON HIS FIRST PULL.

Even though he loved you dearly, once you both started being more romantically intimate, he would be apprehensive in the beginning.

As an introvert with very few friends, he’s not used to be praised so sweetly, or being told that he was actually cool. It was such an alien concept to him that he believes that he somehow landed in some sort of alternate universe. It would take some time for him to eventually open up and comfortably accept the love and affection (especially more so in a private space).

It was already a lot of effort to get him to trust you to date him in the first place, to be honest. He was attracted to your caring nature, which made him feel calm and safe, but he never wanted to risk ruining your friendship. He didn’t think he had the RNG luck that was capable having someone like you attracted to someone like him. So you would have to approach him and confess (because unless an event happens and it forces him or he gets emotion, this shy baby won’t take the initiative).

If you do any PDA, he’d freak out. Once he’s more comfortable in a relationship, he might be okay with holding hands but anything more, he’ll become a puddle of a mess. He’s such a private person, so please be patient with him. He would stiffen up at a hug and if you kissed him, his face would flush so red and his hair would turn a bright orange. He’d be such a stuttering mess, but as a loving s/o, you’d still find him so adorable.

In private he’d have to get used to being doted on. He wouldn’t understand why you were being so nice to him outside of a video game. He’d be used to giving him some rare loot from a raid, but nothing in person. When you tell him how much you love him in person, he’d get bashful and wouldn’t know how to reply while muttering something. This is especially true when it comes to physical intimacy in private. Hugging and kissing would make him very nervous so you’d probably have to take the initiative at first. Sadly those dating simulation games didn’t prepare him for this…

Eventually he’d appreciate all the caring words and touching you give him in private, like leaning into your touch. He would even start yearning for your touch and enjoy wrapping his long arms around you while playing games. You could be playing games with him, reading or even sleeping, but he’d want to be cuddling you no matter what, never letting you go. Of course he’d appreciate you playing games with him, but he knows he doesn’t need much sleep compared to others and games throughout the night.

Even though you would both be dating, the thing that makes his heart thump hard are moment when he sees how loyal they are to him. Like making plans to do a raid one night, but you get invited to a party by Kalim. While you would enjoy the party, you did promise to play games with Idia and kindly decline the offer. When you mention that offhand in his room, he’d feel so happy and grateful to have someone like you who prioritizes him and enjoys spending time together.

Malleus Draconia

While he was the one to confess to you, he didn’t know what to expect from a relationship. Over the years, he’s had dinners with prospective partners (arranged by his grandmother), but he didn’t share any feelings for them. So overall, his dating experience is quite lackluster.

While he did know he had feelings for you (that he didn’t quite understand yet), he didn’t know how to exactly show it, so of course he wouldn’t know how receiving love would look like either. While he loved Lilia, Silver, and Sebek as a family, this love was different than he had ever felt. Receiving hugs from you felt… warm, safe, and nice while hugging the other guys felt like a lighter happiness that made him smile. They were definitely different but it was hard for him to completely understand

He isn’t used to being doted and loved on so much. Everyone in the Briar Valley was nice, but they were never friendly to him like they were to each other. It was as if everyone was always walking on eggshells around him, and it was isolating. He did grow up with the company of Lilia and his grandmother, but it isn't entirely the same when the rest of the town is basically kissing up to you or appeasing you for a little clout.

He’s used to Lilia, Silver, and Sebek’s love but it’s not nearly the same. This love is more… smothering, in a good way. It was like being wrapped up in a big comfy blanket. He almost doesn't even know what to do with himself with all the love and affection you give him. The idea of someone giving him hugs, kisses, and even holding hands is such a foreign concept.

He’d be awkward with any physical touch that entails hugging or holding you in any kind of way. Let’s be honest, he ripped open a coconut with his bare hands. This man is brutally strong (which can also be a good thing) and just doesn't want to hurt you with his inhuman strength. Can you blame him? He'll get over it easily with enough coaxing and baby steps. Eventually, he'll grow to become a huge cuddle bug that will never want to let you go.

He eventually starts to adore the gentle touches and constant attention to where he even seeks it out. None of the other NCR students thought they'd see the day when the Prince of Briar Valley is wandering around aimlessly for someone like a lost puppy.

Unfortunately though, even if he could parade you through the campus, a prince cannot be seen doing scandalous PDA in public. So any form of intimacy past holding hands cannot be tolerated, but he is sure to make it up in the comfort of his own room.

The moment he notices how loyal you are, he’ll be so appreciative and full of love. While he is used to the constant adoration of a certain half-fae (*Cough* Sebek), this sort of loyalty is completely different since the foundation lies more on himself rather than him being a prince. He would know that this commitment was from the bottom of your heart and it really tickles him pink.

The moment when you loyally report back to him about all the events that occur on campus is the moment where he feels included, finally. You would go out of your way to find Malleus and relay the message that the Housewarden meeting was coming up in the next hour. He would be so surprised that someone ACTUALLY remembered to tell him! He'd be tempted to pick you up, kiss, and twirl you in place right then and there, but there is a time and place for that. Instead, he will gently grab your hand and kiss it while making eye contact while a simple thank you escapes his lips.

[signanothername]

What makes an Undertale AU like interesting and fun to get into?? I’ve always wanted to make one but I’m terrified no one will like it

Ok before i answer i’d like to make it clear that my answer is not objective or correct, i’ll only be talking about my own point of view of what makes an AU interesting to get into (it’ll also be a good idea for you to ask this question to different people to see their point of view, so you’d get an idea of what people usually care about)

So with that in mind, for me it’s the uniqueness of the Au

But don’t get me wrong with this point, what I mean by uniqueness of the Au is whether the Au’s concept take interesting twists and turns, the base concept or main idea can be like other Aus or it can have similarities with other Aus it’s fine

To elaborate further, let’s take a look at “Something New” and “Dusttale”, both Aus’ main concepts are Sans killing everyone in the underground, but this is where the similarities end, cause we can all agree that Killer and Murder couldn’t be further from being different, with different motives, different stories, different characteristics, etc

It’s completely fine if the Au has similarities with other Aus, but what does the Au have that’s different/unique about it? Does it explore something that’s been explored before but with its own unique take? Or does it explore a new idea/story?

To give you an example, @byrdblood ‘s TAU is an Au that I was immediately immersed into, and while it focuses on the Nightmare gang (which so many other Aus do btw), Keegan is using their amazing Au to explore concepts in so much depth and detail that nobody usually explores, which are all also explored through the pov of their own unique character called “Abaddon” (my beloved), who Keegan uses to explore their own ideas, what I’m saying, is that while Keegan is using characters that people have used before in so many stories and Aus, Keegan still brought his own unique take on the characters with emphasis on exploring traits and characteristics that people usually don’t really think of, all while bringing his own new and unique character into the mix to explore Abaddon’s unique story as they try to reach their happy ending (correct me if I’m wrong about any info here Keegan i’ve yet to read the carrd in full hchchcch)

Hell, you don’t have to bring in an idea, your Au can simply be unique by exploring a story through the eyes of a character that isn’t usually used in the fandom, for example, i always immediately get hooked to any Au that has Papyrus as the main focus! I really love Papyrus (and believe it or not, but in terms of favorite characters, Papyrus has always been my number one fave character, i prefer him over Sans actually), so when i see Aus exploring Papyrus in a fandom that explores Aus through Sans most of the time? I literally melt with joy, an example of this is the forgettable Au that I’m shaking with excitement to see what its creator has in store for it (the prologue starts tomorrow OML EEEEE)

But i still want to emphasize again that it’s ok for the Au to have similarities with other Aus, we all get inspired by each other and we all have our own fave things to explore even if it was explored a hundred times before, so please don’t get worked up about whether your Au is “unique enough”, or assume that you have to make up a completely new concept that has never ever been explored before for your Au to be interesting, cause believe me, people will recognize your hard work and the love you bore in your own Au, regardless of whether it explores a unique concept or not

With all this in mind, i’d like to emphasize again that this is all from my point of view, my answer isn’t an objective answer that should be taken as a rule for how you should make your own Au

And i have a genuine small advice, when you make the Au, make it so YOU enjoy it, not so it gets popular or that other people love it, i completely understand the desire to have what you worked so hard on and what you love shared with people so people will also love it, i genuinely understand it, but if you only make the Au with whether people would enjoy it or not in mind, it’ll only make you perceive your Au as some sort of burden that you have to perfect or that you have to make into something you yourself don’t even enjoy just so other people love it

And y’know, allow me to get a bit personal here

But I say this as someone who used to base my art and ideas/stories’ worth on numbers and likes and reblogs, etc, by the time i reached 2021? I actually genuinely and legitimately hated my own art, and it reached a point in which i was genuinely contemplating to quit making art altogether, but then i remember taking a 4 months break from social media after, and in that break, i continued making art without posting at all, in which i would literally cry cause i genuinely couldn’t even love what i made anymore, but i still pushed and continued making art, and it took me 3 months before i started liking what i made again, those 4 months reminded me what was genuinely important, why i made art in the first place, I made art cause I love it, i made art cause I enjoy it

And i made the decision after that numbers will never be my priority ever again, i’d be completely lying if i told you that it was easy to let go of the habit to care about numbers (and sometimes even get back to that habit from time to time), but it wasn’t easy at all, it took time, effort, and so much self discipline, but i actually did reach a point where I genuinely just don’t really care, but do you know what helped me not care? I stopped seeing my notes as numbers and start seeing them as people

Cause even if I get 1 single like or 1 single reblog, it is still one person who took time of their day to like/reblog the thing i made

What I’m saying, is there’s no way your Au will never be loved by anyone at all (it’s literally statistically impossible) even if it’s one singular person, someone is absolutely bound to care about your Au, and please cherish the people who care and love your Au even if they’re few, cause even if they’re few, they still love the thing you made y’know? And would definitely love to see what you do with it

And i’ll be the first, if/when you make your Au? Please send it over, i’d love to see your Au and know what it’s about if it’s ok with you (i’ll also reblog the main post you make about it so more people know about it and hopefully love it)

Good luck with it! Don’t let this fear stop you from doing what you love <3333

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

talk | myg | nyangnyang au

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Your husband Min Yoongi declares that he needs to be more of a whore. Nyan?!

warnings: discussion about sex life; husband!Yoongi x wife!reader with their pet white cat Nyangnyang; heavy make-out session; domestic + fluffy; nyangnyang!au but can be read alone tbh it's just a husband and wife chatting about their sex life + the antics of their peanut gallery lol

--

You didn’t quite believe in soulmates or fate, but you were sure that Min Yoongi was the love of your life.

“I think I need to be more of a whore.”

Precisely why.

Wait, what?

You looked up from wiping down the coffee table and stared at him.

“What?”

“Nyan.”

Your husband was sitting on the sofa. An attempt to rest, except the furball you both affectionately called cutie had immediately rocketed into his lap and began rolling around, loudly demanding pets and leaving white fur all over your husband’s black sweatpants. Nyangnyang the cat had zero concept of personal space. Your husband had a problem with saying no to those he loved. Her head was in his large palm as the other rubbed her belly. White fur was getting everywhere. Loud purrs punctuated the silence.

“Do you think our sex life is boring?” was Yoongi’s follow-up on his previous declaration.

You folded up the polishing cloth and left it on the glass table, figuring this was going to be more than a yes-or-no conversation. Strands of black hair fell past his temples, framing his black metal glasses and sharp dark brown eyes. He looked at you with a calm expression as if he was talking about the weather and not about how he thought he needed to be more of a whore.

You paused. “I don’t think so, but I figured the slowdown was because you worked on that important album. You said it was very emotionally draining.” Your husband was a music producer. He wasn’t allowed to talk about what he was working on, which was why he told his wife everything. Hey, his primary loyalty was to his wife. That and you weren’t going to tell a soul anyway. That would require social interaction. Ew. “You’ve been sleeping a lot and watching TV all day even after you wrapped it up.”

Nyangnyang rolled around and covered Yoongi’s thighs with more snow-white cat hair. You used to keep a lint roller in the living room until Yoongi realized the cat had been knocking it down and licking the sticky paper like an adhesive heathen. Then you switched to other types of lint-and-fur collectors. The cat still licked the tacky parts. Sigh. Now they had to be kept in the closet. You and Yoongi just accepted that you both would be covered in cat hair twenty-four-seven.

Welp.

He accepted the fluffy tail smacking his stomach and scratched behind Nyangnyang’s ears while watching you carefully. At least his baggy t-shirt was white. You stayed kneeling on the floor, curiously tilting your head, positioned on the other side of the smoked glass and black marble coffee table.

Finally, Yoongi sighed. “I think I need to try harder. I’m feeling outdone by you lately.”

You frowned. “Sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”

For some reason, the cat stood up, circling Yoongi’s lap again before flopping down. You noticed his pale hand hover over his nuts before Nyangnyang threw herself down again with a dramatic princess floof. You could relate.

Heh.

His eye twitched. “Watch it,” he muttered, casting his eyes downward.

The cat gave no fucks and shoved her pink nose into Yoongi’s palm.

“What about last night?” you continued. “You came four times. Your dick felt great.”

Your husband gave you the side-eye. “You know, there’s a person attached to this dick.”

You grinned.

He scoffed. “Just because you were into the dick doesn’t mean you were into me.”

Your grin disappeared. “What are you talking about? I only think about you during sex. There’s no one else I want to think about.”

But as soon as the words came out of your mouth, you could tell that wasn’t what Yoongi was getting at. He stuck his tongue into his cheek and his brows furrowed, glancing away for a moment to collect his thoughts. His hand on the cat’s belly stopped. Nyangnyang, being a little shit, kicked his wrist with her back paws. His hand started moving again without looking. The furball went back to purring up a storm. Your husband winced and tried not to show it. Despite his longer, lustrous hair and slender frame, Min Yoongi was a manly man at heart that enjoyed woodworking, basketball, and UFC as much as he enjoyed music, fashion, and picking out aesthetic living room pillows.

“I’ve been relying a little too much on you being sexy and leading everything without contributing myself,” he finally said, sounding a bit rueful in his deep and raspy voice.

You heavily restrained chiming in that all he needed to contribute was an open mouth and a hard dick. Good commentary, wrong timing. It was pretty clear what he was saying and it was pretty clear that you should shut up for now and listen.

Difficult for a smartass, but you’d manage.

“I don’t feel that you’re having the same experience I am. Just because you like being in charge doesn’t mean I should step back,” he went on, verbally working through his thought process and letting you in on it. You were a bit surprised hearing those words, as it was word-for-word something you mentioned before, although that was years ago when something similar happened. It had been you to bring it up then. He listens, huh. Yoongi ticked his head, his glasses reflecting light. “I feel I’ve gotten a little lazy. And, with it, been too in my head recently. I don’t like this feeling. I’m not performing well. I need to be more into it.”

It was a first for him to be so direct about this. Usually, you would bring it up for some reason or the other. He was always willing to talk about it, but, well. You had always had a more… intense… libido compared to Yoongi and, although some would argue it was a good problem to have, he often had to rise to the occasion (pun intended). Something he wanted to do and did so without hesitation, but that also meant that he was more sensitive to his own intrusive thoughts whereas you were too absorbed with fucking to notice any. Sex was when you were free, yet Yoongi had reasonable worries that interfered sometimes. You had sensed the tension last night and figured some fucking would help relax him. But it turned out the issue related to sex itself. Welp. Still, it was nice to hear him communicate with you.

“So… how would being a whore help?” you asked.

Another bombastic side-eye. “I meant being more actively involved into the sex. Acting like one.”

You raised an eyebrow with a straight face even though you were cackling inside. “Do you even know how to act like a whore? You’ve never been slutty in your entire life.” Added a little dismissive hand wave with your act. Just to be extra infuriating. “You think acting like a slut is so easy? Darling, being a whore is a way of life.”

Yoongi stared at you.

Blank expression.

“You’re so freaking annoying.”

The tip of your tongue grazed the edge of your smirk.

“Naow…”

Your husband rolled his eyes behind his glasses. Hot. Nyangnyang seemed to sense the kind of tension a cat wanted no part of and promptly abandoned Yoongi’s lap, marching off to laze somewhere else. Not that her parents noticed because they were too busy making googly eyes at each other.

“It’s the middle of the day,” Yoongi said quietly.

“Time of day never stopped a whore,” you countered.

His expression was a mix between pained and irritated. Perfect. Heavy sigh, halfway lifting himself off the couch before you started laughing, breaking the tension.

“I’m kidding,” you chuckled, flippant, standing up as well. “Have you gotten a little lazy? Hmm, maybe. But maybe I’ve been overbearing too, since all I think about is enjoying your dick until I’m worn out. I probably shouldn’t go that far, hah… Yoongi?”

He grabbed your wrist.

You paused, fixating your gaze on him. His direct stare. Dark eyes shadowed behind clear lenses. Gleaming porcelain skin. You were both in casual clothes for lounging at home. Your lavender sweatpants with a matching crop top weren’t exactly screaming sex. But, of course, you would confess that you always made sure to cress cutely for yourself.

You frowned. “We haven’t showered yet.”

He shrugged. He had reasonably broad shoulders for such a pretty face. Fucking sexy as hell. You were allowed to think that because you were his wife. “You don’t have to go down on me.” Then he let go of your wrist to reach behind your head and tilt it back, the base of your skull against the heel of his palm.

“What?”

Then you sucked in a tight breath as you felt the tip of his hot tongue slide up your neck.

His warm breath spread over your skin, sending a wave of chills throughout your chest.

“Didn’t you tell me sex is more than just the orgasm?” he murmured, heating the saliva clinging to your throat. “I completely agree.”

Under normal circumstances you would have had the smartass comment ready, was this the right situation to admit that the wife was always right, but you didn’t even have a chance to glance at him before his lips started feathering up the side of your neck, his deft hands in your hair, licking, kissing, his familiar scent invading your nose, his soft black hair against your cheek, every action tantalizing your senses.

It was then that you realized, yes, you did miss this.

As a married couple that lived together, you both had the luxury of skipping steps. You could get into the action any time and that was exciting in its own right. You also had the natural tendency to immediately get into it, using everything in your arsenal all at once. Speed, accuracy, precision, multiple sensations all over, forcing all of your past lovers to chase to keep up with you and not giving them time to react or prepare themselves. There wasn’t much time to pull on the leash, so to speak.

A whore always wanted to have sex, right?

So, acting like one meant…

Your hands slipped under his t-shirt and pulled him closer by the small of his back.

His teeth nicked the space under your ear and you shivered before moaning, feeling the tingling sensation of sucking skin and soft lips. It really was delightfully pleasant to be caught off guard by your favorite person.

“You… You’re saying I act like a whore…?” you gasped, still playing around.

His lips grazed your ear. Voice low, direct.

“You’d be one if I didn’t catch you and shackle you with a ring.”

Touché.

“What’s wrong with that?” you bit back.

He moved his head and you gazed at each other with one eye, lashes framing dark orbs that were the window to knowing each other far too well.

“Nothing. That’s why I’m trying to be more like you,” Yoongi purred.

Your lower halves collided. Layers of clothing and heated friction, his hardness pressing against your thighs, and then his lips caught yours in a fervent kiss. No different in the level of passion but you could tell he was different from last night. More mindful depth. Only focused on the moment. Tongue against tongue. His hands all over, sliding up into your hair and down your shoulder, gasping into your throat as your fingernails turned inward, scratching down his back mid lip-lock.

“Nyao!”

There was a flurry of wild flailing sounds and then a thud.

You both stopped kissing to stare into the bedroom. The door was open, as it usually was. A whizzing snow-white blur shot out of sight. The bed was partially visible from this angle. The right lower corner of the covers was messy and pulled out. You stared at it, trying to make sense of what the fuck just happened, still clutching your husband in your death grasp.

You blinked slowly.

“Nyangnyang, did you…”

“… Fail to jump onto the bed?” Yoongi finished for you with just as much disbelief in his voice.

Absolute silence.

“Hasn’t she made that jump hundreds of times?” you wondered out loud.

Yoongi grumbled. You turned your head back. He shrugged.

“Maybe it’s a sign to move to the bed.”

Hmmmm. You didn’t miss the want in his otherwise bland tone. “Why rush?” You let go of him even though your husband’s eyes were narrowing to death glare status. “It’s the weekend. We have all day. Besides, the rice will be done soon, so we should eat lunch.” As a very devious wife, you could tell Yoongi did not want to play this game but he also wanted you to give in first. He kept a firm hand on your waist.

“Hm, you’re right.”

“Yup,” was your chipper reply.

He gave you this look.

You grinned. Waved your finger as you chided him. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you dessert is after your meal? You can’t spoil your appetite with suga beforehand.” You bared the brunt of a criminally offensive side-eye. Worth it.

Then, Yoongi smiled.

Uh oh.

You had been with Yoongi long enough to know that behind that simple smile was a lot of cunning.

“But of course, my love.”

Well, a lazy Saturday just got a lot more interesting.

--

drabbles masterpost | masterpost

[mikalara-dracula]

(nsfw-ish) Hiii can you make headcanons for the diaboys when they have a wet dream of their s/o?

💦🥵 When the Diaboys have a wet dream of their s/o—

Warning: 18+ content below; don't read if you're a minor and aren't comfortable with slight NSFW, sexual arousal, and orgasm-related concepts. This is a fictional work and should not be taken seriously.

Caution: Unfortunately, Tumblr has a history of admins quarreling over completing carbon copy asks due to users sending the same request(s) to multiple admins, thus, resulting in unintentional plagiarism. With this, please DO NOT send the same request to multiple blogs as it can cause unintended plagiarism discord to other blogs across Tumblr. The word “plagiarism” stems from the early 17th-century Latin word, “plagiarius,” meaning “kidnapper.” So please, do not send in the same request to multiple blogs and make admins appear to be “kidnapping” other people’s work when it isn’t their intention. If this is to occur with any of my posts, please contact me so we can work something out.

Hi there, Anon!

Thank you so much for requesting! I'm very sorry for the long wait! I hope you enjoy reading it. Feel free to request again anytime. :)

Created with: @liannelara-dracula

Before we get into this scenario, let’s get into some context about it:

Scientifically speaking, wet dreams or sleep orgasms don’t have to necessarily be caused by having erotic dreams.

However, because the Diaboys are not human, I think this applies to them a bit differently.

@liannelara-dracula and I think that because they’re immortal, having wet dreams is ONLY caused by having erotic dreams.

And because an immortal’s senses and feelings are known to be heightened compared to a human’s, let’s just say their wet dreams are a bit, well . . . messy.

And by “messy” we mean to the point where the sheets have a big stain on them.

Anyways, let’s go on to the hcs.

Shu:

He was kinda confused when he woke up because he did not see it coming.

I mean, unexpectedly finding this big stain on his pants and bed?

At first, since you were sleeping next to him, he honestly thought you wet the bed.

Asshole.

It took him a minute to realize that that wasn’t the case and that he was the cause of this mess.

Although, it definitely didn’t stop him from waking you up and accusing you for it.

“See what you did? You couldn’t control yourself.”

“Shut up! You’re the one with wet pants.”

Knowing he couldn’t get you to believe otherwise, he changed subject.

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Just clean the sheets.” He’d say, closing his eyes, attempting to drift off again.

“Shu, you’re not some baby where I have to wipe your ass for you.”

Being the smartass he is, he’d smirk, “Well . . . .”

Knowing he was being an ass, you’d instantly grab a nearby pillow and start hitting him with it, to which he’d just laugh since he’d find your reaction amusing.

Reiji:

He never thought he’d wake up this way.

I mean, wet because of you?

He never saw this coming obviously.

And he was so embarrassed by it.

And to make matters worse, you walked in and he instantly threw a blanket over himself and the bed stain.

"Good morning, Reiji. Did you sleep well?” You’d ask.

In a tense tone, and with the blanket up to his neck, he’d reply, “Yes.”

Noticing that his response seemed off, you questioned, “Are you okay?"

"Of course!" He'd quickly respond, attempting to keep calm under the pressure of keeping you in the dark about this. “Just give me a few minutes, dear.”

“ . . . Okay.” You’d say walking out, giving him his privacy.

Reiji sighed in relief, and couldn’t think straight for the rest of the day.

He found it so hard to be around you and ended up making himself a tea to calm him down.

Dude should’ve smoked a cigarette after that dream lmao. xDD

You kept asking if he was alright since found his behavior to be bit weird, but nevertheless, he just kept to himself.

“Reiji, are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, yes!” He’d reassure, a bit jittery in response despite his collective nature. In hopes of changing the subject and to keep you from asking further questions, he’d deter by keeping you busy. “Now then, let us go for a walk, dear.”

Laito:

Is not bothered by it.

He's had so many wet dreams anyways considering how long he's been around.

But he’s a little sad that what he was dreaming about was over and that it couldn’t continue.

“Aw, what a shame. We could’ve taken things to the next level.”

He even keeps tallies on how many wet dreams he’s had.

"Well, here’s another one to the list."

He even writes about the dreams that caused them.

He’s amused whenever he has one

But unlike some of his brothers, he’s able to get through the day quite normally, almost like it never happened.

Unless of course he saw you for the day and you did something super suggestive, then it takes everything in him to act composed.

He looks forward to the next time it happens and may try to make it happen by fantasizing about you before going to bed.

But honestly, when is he not fantasizing about you?

Kanato:

Finds it to be a pain since he “wet” himself and finds it a bit annoying.

Definitely wants to be alone when having to handle his wet pants and sheets.

Like, if someone knocks on his bedroom door, he yells at them to get lost.

He doesn't even want the servants cleaning it up because he finds it humiliating.

"They're not worthy enough to see this."

Knowing you caused this, he is beyond sexually frustrated and upset at you.

He literally cannot eat sweets without thinking about what happened.

He’ll be in such a grumpy mood that day.

But if you provoke him, he’ll pounce on you instantly.

Ayato:

He didn’t even know it happened, like, he was very much out of it.

He just kept sleeping on it and sooner than later, he finally sat on the edge of his bed, feeling heavy and not ready to take off for night school.

Laito walked in to tell him to get ready for school since they were already running late.

Of course, with Laito being Laito, he noticed Ayato’s state and had to tease him for it.

“Y’know brother, I thought we were much past you wetting the bed.”

“What are you—oh my god!” Until that point, Ayato hadn’t even noticed and it had been pointed out to him.

Embarrassed, he quickly grabbed his uniform, running towards the bathroom to change as he swore to brother, who was only amused by this situation. “This stays between me and you man. No one else can know.”

Subaru:

Oh shit! You were sleeping next to him when it happened

So how does he cover it up?

It’s simple—he can’t!

He turned red af.

He just couldn’t believe it happened, especially with you being right next to him.

Runs into the bathroom to hide himself.

“Subaru, it’s okay. It’s just-,”

“Leave me alone!”

Kino:

Isn't ashamed at all.

In fact, he's just amused that you had this effect on him while unconscious.

"Hey babe, look what you did to me."

Blushing hard, you covered your face, not being able to bear with the situation.

“Kino, please just change.”

Ruki:

Isn’t bothered by it, even if you're there sleeping next to him or not.

Is only going to act on it if you make a big deal about it.

“You keep complaining, but you’re the cause of this. You should be paying for this.” He’d saying coming out of the shower only in a towel.

“But I never said anything! You’re not being fair!”

“Oh really?” He’d say mischviously, pulling his sheet of the bed only to throw it at you to get you “wet.”

“Stop!” You’d yelp as you tried to dodge the wet spot of the sheet from touching you as he laughed.

“Eww! Oh my god, Ruki!” You’d exclaim.

He’d laugh approaching you, “C’mere.”

You’d back away in fear, “No, I don’t trust you!” 

If you're not there, he's gonna be blaming you for it all day long in his mind.

Is going to let you pay for it by leaving you sexually frustrated for the day with some intimate activity he’ll initiate and then abandon, not allowing you achieve satisfaction.

“It’s only fair after what you did to me.”

Kou:

Like Shu, he woke up confused, but quickly realized what had happened.

Recollecting, that dream was steamy, leaving him to comment on it.

“Oh, that explains it.”

Wishes you could see what you did to him.

"Damn, I wish she was here."

Instead, he sent a picture to you about the wet sheets with the caption, “Look what you did to me last night.”

To which would lead you facepalm and leave him on read. xDD

Wants to try out what happened in his dream with you and will flat up try to ask you about it.

“Hey babe, why don’t we-,”

Knowing what he’d want, you’d be quick to deny, “No!”

Yuma:

When he woke up, he was kinda pissed.

Not because he dreamt about you, but because he’d have to clean the sheets since everyone does their own laundry in the Mukami household.

"Ah, shit." He'd hiss, looking at the wet sheets. "I knew I shouldn't of gone to bed thinkin’ of her."

And to his dismay, Kou walked in on him and this scene, and because Kou’s an ass, he has to tease Yuma about it.

“Damn, someone was thinking real hard last night.” He’d joke around.

“Why you!” He’d say, chasing Kou out of his room.

And if it wasn’t Kou who was in his case about this, someone else was bound to.

When Yuma got down to the laundry room, Ruki decided to have his fun because once he saw the sheet Yuma was putting into the washer, he couldn’t help himself.

“I’m surprised you’re washing the sheets earlier this week, Yuma.”

“Yeah, well, they needed a change.” Yuma would say, attempting to the situation up.

“I see. I guess with Y/N on your mind you’re bound to wash them more often.”

Knowing that Ruki had figured it out, Yuma would retort, “Tch!” leaving Ruki to smirk as he walked out of the laundry room.

And knowing Kou, he’d probably have a picture as well of Yuma when he experienced this.

Or, to make matters worse, he’ll just tell you about it when he arrives at school.

“Hey, Y/N, guess what?!” Kou would yell from across the hall.

“You asshole!” Yuma would react, threantening Kou to keep silent, “Shut up before I throw you outta one of these windows!”

Azusa:

He didn’t understand what happened when he woke up.

It took his brothers to explain to him.

“Oh . . . so that’s what . . . it is?” Azusa would comprehend.

Since he was given an explanation, he was happy you were in his thoughts since he finds no better way to sleep.

He hopes he’ll have more of these experiences since they’re centered around his one and only Eve.

"I wonder if . . . she has . . . wet dreams . . . about me? . . . I guess I'll . . . never know."

Carla:

Good lord, what did you do to make him wet?

He covers it up and pretends that it didn't happen.

He cannot live with himself right now.

And if has to see you that day, he’s not ready to face you.

All he can think about is what you two were doing in his dream.

“Carla, are you alright?” You’d ask finding his behavior to be a little off that day.

“The King of Founders is just fine.” He’d assert, ever so calmly.

“Okay, but you’re acting really weird today.”

“How is that?”

“Well, you seem tense.” Based on this, you further offered, “Do you want a massage?”

Just thinking of your touch on him was enough to make him lose his composure, so he’d refuse despite wanting one.

“No, no, it’s fine, really.”

And if you by any chance do something that turns him on, he’s not gonna be composed anymore.

He’ll give up and try to get you to the bed, or will just take you on a random surface.

Shin:

He blames you 100% and doesn’t care if you find it embarrassing.

Given how the morning is starting off between you both, he isn’t going to let it go.

“The one who should be complaining is me, after all it is uncomfortable to be left with such thoughts.”

“No, what’s worse is knowing just how deep your mind travels to something like that!” You’d argue, blushing at the thought.

“You should be honored that you were in my thoughts, love.” He’d smirk, making you shocked as you’d throw a pillow at him. 

“I would be if it was in the sense of sentiment!” You’d retort, looking away.

“But making love to you is sentimental, even in my dreams.” He’d tease leaning closer to you, leaving you to blush harder as he laughed.

Not being able to take it much longer, you’d try changing the subject, “Would you just clean up already?!”

[papastarion]

I know everyone has their different takes on Astarion’s character, and what they think his story should look like/what he would or wouldn’t do with his life after the events of the game, and I think they’re all valid. And not everyone is going to like your read or what you want him to pursue or be like after all is said and done. And there’s nothing wrong with that! Could you imagine how boring things would be if we all agreed? I personally love seeing the diversity of takes.

That being said, I am very much a fan of the idea of non-Ascended Astarion starting a family after everything, just me personally. Now, I know that’s a whole can of worms for people who don’t like that concept or who don’t like the idea of kids/pregnancy in their fiction. That’s completely fine. Funnily enough, I have no desire to have my own kids, but I love exploring that sort of lifestyle and the dynamic it creates when it comes to my characters in my own writing.

And I do think he wants kids, in my world state (to borrow a Dragon Age term), anyway.

I always go back to Astarion’s confession, when he says he wants “something real.” All those years where sex and love were nothing but a performance to seduce people and lure them to what he thought was their death. And now, with Tav/Durge, he wants the real thing. He wants to love and be loved.

He says he doesn’t know what “real” looks like anymore, which means he’s got to figure it out. And we know he isn’t much for plans, so that means a lot of what he learns is learned as he goes. That must extend to learning what he wants, too.

“I Want to Live” is the song that is consistently played in relation to his character development (despite being the players song.) Want. For all of those years, he was told by Cazador that he and his fellow spawn were a family. If he doesn’t ascend, then what he desires, and discovering what he wants, and taking what was false for so long and learning what the real version of it looks like to him all come together to make it easy for me to see him enjoying fatherhood.

He wouldn’t be Astarion without that prickly personality of his, but as his relationship with Tav/Durge progresses, you get to see the softness and sweetness he has in him, too. And I believe he really does mean it when he says he wants to protect them. He does genuinely care, as sarcastic and standoffish as he can be. That’s part of his personality and his character arc.

Now, do I think he likes all kids? Not at all. I think he likes certain kids, and for certain reasons. He may not encourage taking in Yenna, but he does insist on saving her from Orin. He seems to have a high opinion of Arabella. It depends on the kid. In a strange way, I think his own personhood being taken from him has made him view kids as more individual than most people tend to.

And I think he would adore his own kids because of who they are. They’re proof of how far he’s come, they’re proof that he’s alive and he’s living and that Cazador didn’t win in the end. He’s here. He won. He’s growing past everything.

And, most importantly: they’re his kid(s.)

Do I think he’s ever considered having children prior to having one, even before he was turned? I doubt it, honestly. But especially prior to his vampirism, I don’t think it matters whether he did or not. He can’t remember what color his eyes were, let alone what he wanted or who he was. And it doesn’t matter, he makes that much clear. He isn’t that person anymore, and he won’t ever get to be them again. So whether he had thought about children specifically or not, whether he wanted them or not, I don’t think that matters to him anymore.

He never saw himself as a hero, either, but he’s a Hero of Baldur’s Gate now. He cares. In his own way. And he defines and does things his own way in his life now. He’s still not your stereotypical hero, but he’s also no longer your stereotypical vampire. He wouldn’t be Astarion if he was easy to define. And after everything, he is still Astarion. He’s complex, and he can be quite contradictory and inconsistent. That’s both part of his personality and a result of the 200 years of trauma he survived, I think.

And again, he’s also not one for plans. I don’t think he considers being a father until Tav/Durge is telling him that he’s going to be one. And that kind of life-changing news can rattle even the people who have planned for it and wanted it their whole lives. Sure, I think it takes some getting used to, and I’m sure there are complex feelings that come with it. Rediscovering yourself and building a life are never easy. Living isn’t easy.

But this is another part of the life he’s living—really living. This isn’t the mockery Cazador forced the spawn to play pretend in, it’s a real family, his family. And I think that means everything to the person he chooses to be now.

[slitheringghost]

What is your favorite headcanon about Voldemort?

Ooh I have many!

- At some point he murdered Caractacus Burke in revenge for his mother.

- He buried his mother’s bones at Hogwarts, because he wanted to give Merope a proper burial, being enraged by her burial in a pauper’s grave and by her family never claiming her body, and because she never got to attend Hogwarts and he thinks of it as her birthright too (more on that here).

- He used to make jokes at the orphanage, a la his hand jokes in GoF or joking about his background with his gang in the HBP memory, but all the other kids were so terrified of him that they never laughed or appreciated his sense of humor. Tom was very sad about this.

- Like Sirius, Tom really loves crosswords.

- His appearance being Like That is intentional (at least, until 1981), mainly because he had babyface, and was tired of having the kind of face that made everyone flirt with him and made old ladies want to pinch his cheeks.

I’m in two minds whether not wanting to look like his Muggle father was an additional reason or not; on one hand he badly wants to shed the Muggle part of himself, on the other he still remains deeply obsessed with his father and in a warped way craves any connection to his family that he can get, including his looks.

Either way, it’s implausible that it’s just an inherent part of practicing Dark Arts (which I see as a very varied and extensive categorization of magic with entire fields under it anyway and definitely not all inherently Evil). Tom is hardly the only one to go far in Dark Arts, and yet we don’t see anyone else’s appearance changed by it (like Bellatrix, Grindelwald, Snape, etc). We also know horcruxes don’t inherently have that effect, because his face is unchanged by the time of the Hepzibah Smith memory, at which point he’s likely made 1-2 horcruxes (?).

- One of his least favorite subjects and the one he’s least skilled at is Transfiguration, for obvious reasons.

- He doesn’t believe in blood purity, and continues to think of himself as Muggleborn long after he finds out he isn’t (I think there’s some evidence of that here), in part because that highly specific Muggleborn culture shock and feeling of coming into magical society with no prior knowledge of it and going “wow these people are completely batshit crazy” has never left him and drives about 60% of his actions (see also, my post on his perception of pureblood family culture).

- He looked his father in the eyes as he killed him, and Riddle Sr.'s eyes were just a tiny shade off of the exact shade of blue that Dumbledore's eyes are.

- He gave the diary to Abraxas Malfoy, which is a fairly popular headcanon, but the alternative interpretation of him entrusting it to Lucius honestly bothers me because it doesn’t really make sense and it just goes against all the sentimentality inherent in how he deals with his horcruxes imo. (More on this here and here).

Not my headcanons but ones I've adopted:

- The Dark Mark as inspired by the northern lights from this post

- The part in this lovely Bellamort fic where Tom muses on how he actually considered marrying up when he was young because he wanted belonging and permanence in the wizarding world, but didn't for several reasons including the powerlessness of being a poor half-blood under the control of pureblood families:

There was a time when he had considered that very concept. He had known others of questionable background and some talent who had found places for themselves in magical society by virtue of marrying up. They tended to live their whole lives at the service and disposal of their in-laws, always aware of the potential to be cut off from the family purse strings or for a quick, mandated divorce. This did not appeal for a number of reasons.

- My HC inspired by Tom doing it in this fic - despite Dumbledore's "Voldemort understands nothing of children's tales and love" blah blah, Tom did pay attention to Muggle fairy tales as a kid, and drew a connection between The Little Match Girl fairytale and the story of Merope's death.

[dnpanimationstudioclone]

Niffty Redesign🐛

Made my own take on Niffty for Fun!!!!!!!!💖 I def thought a lot on what to try with her!!!!

Pushed for a more 50’s Housewife aesthetic/hotel maid vibe. She’s wearing a pinafore apron which was very popular during that era and I took the poodle skirt idea and reworked it into the apron, but rather than a poodle it’s a bug 🐛. Also brought back warmer colors like the pilot look had. Pastel yellow was def a pop color!

Also added a name tag as to show she works for the hotel 🏨

Added more splotches and made them bigger on her apron. Polkadots were popular in that time and I think are cute(lot of her concepts had polka dots on her) plus I can see her wanting people to assume she’s a ladybug or Asian Lady Beetle 🐞 (@peeperscreeperz made a take of Niffty being that which is AMAZING and I considered making her that too but I ended up going a different route). I can see her also wanting them to give off flowers…only for most people to see them as blood stains.🌸🩸

Also gave her those iconic cleaning gloves 🧤. Shes the Hotels maid AND cook afterall 🧽 👩‍🍳

Gave her a bandana bow for the housewife and maid look and because I think it’s cute and lowkey gives off antennae. I LOVE the idea of her being a bug demon so I went with that. I was going for a subtle ambiguity of what she’s suppose to be(she’s hiding what she is).

Gave her warmer eye color back! Also made the pupil more leaf shaped 🍃.

Added gradient for her limbs.

Added extra limbs. Great for extra cleaning 🧹 🧼

Her hairs actually antennae…and extra legs 🦵

Gave her three fingers.

Made her eye bigger(bugs often got big eyes! Or for her case eye 👁️)

Added a lil bug instead of a poodle for her apron!🪳

For her color motif, went back to warmer colors and because for mine I’m going with a rainbow motif she’s Yellow💛🌈 the color known for its positives such as joy and friendship…but can also mean negative things such as Deceit, illness and often used as a warning color⚠️ it was also a popular color for Sci-Fi posters(she was based on B-Alien Movies)

Made her skin a kinda warm pastel orange🧡 I missed her having a warm palette but I also get why they changed it due to her roots 🇯🇵. So I went with orange!!!! Her hairs also a more brownish red-orange.

For her bug theme,

I went with something that I figure would connect her both to her ability to take down pests so well and Japanese origins. The Japanese Centipede! Centipedes are great for pest control but apparently to Japan they’re considered symbols of evil and rottenness, plus with how they look they often scare people even those they don’t pose serious threats to humans, which I think fits Niffty’s whole desire to be loved only to accidentally scare people away…shunned & unloved by a world she can’t seem to fit in💔

HUGE Spoiler alert!!!! Hazbin Hotel

With the reveal of Husk being once an Overlord I like to believe the same with Niffty but rather than souls(talked about this with @a-sterling-rose, she was an immensely powerful sinner like Alastor, but alas her form was far too big and scary for people to want to get close to and she was alone…until Alastor offered her a deal he’d provide a more approachable form in return for her eternal service)

A lot of her looks meant to be hiding what she is. Disguising her extra limbs as hair, her body’s color scheme based on a centipedes, poofy dress that could cover extra, even the bug design could be Interpreted as a long centipede. I was also going for a subtle sharp, mini legs for her apron ruffles, giving off her trying to look sweet and soft but could also be interpreted in another way…

I read and learned from a @lovesart23 redesign vid for her that, she was meant to be based on B-Alien Movies. LOVE that and I tried it myself(hardest part was figuring out what bug to make her and what themes to go with) but I ended up going for another Sci-Fi route. Kaiju/Giant Bug monsters. Creatures like Godzilla or those giant bugs creatures like “the Tingler” 1959(which was a centipede monster I read). I figure it’d connect well to both her struggles of fitting in but also her Japanese Roots.

Monsters are tragic beings. They are born too tall, too strong, too heavy. They are not evil by choice. That is their tragedy. They do not attack people because they want to, but because of their size and strength, mankind has no other choice but to defend himself. After several stories such as this, people end up having a kind of affection for the monsters. They end up caring about them."

— Ishir⁠ō Honda The Director of Godzilla

Plus some certain Kaijus could qualify as Aliens!.

There’s even a Yokai/demon based on the centipede know as the Ōkumade!

CW freaky Pictures of centipedes and Mice

What do u think? I’d love to know💖

I’ve also done Charlie, Vaggie and Angel🍎🦋🕷️

[goldengalore]

Perception

Summary: Y/N has social anxiety. When she and Harry go on a double date with Jeff and Glenne, Harry thinks everything is going extremely well. It isn’t until they get home later that he realizes Y/N didn’t feel the same way.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: anxiety, eating problems due to anxiety, use of alcohol as a coping mechanism (which I do not condone), implied smut

A/N: I focus on H’s POV throughout just to show how much his perception of events differs from Y/N’s, which is tainted by her anxiety. Hoping to write more fics with this concept in the future! :)

***

“You know, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” says Harry, entering the master bathroom where Y/N is meticulously applying her makeup.

They have dinner plans tonight with two of Harry’s closest friends—his manager Jeff and Jeff’s wife Glenne. Y/N has met Jeff a few times but only in a professional setting, and she has yet to meet Glenne. Although the four of them have tried making plans to hang out before, they never came to fruition because Y/N’s anxiety would always spiral out of control leading up to the event, causing Harry to make up some excuse for why they have to cancel.

“D—do you not want me to go?” asks Y/N.

He frowns, slipping his hands into the pockets of his brown corduroy pants. “What? Of course I do.”

“It’s just...” She pops open the cap of the lipstick in her hands and stares down at it. “This is the third time you’ve said that to me today.”

His eyes fall shut for a moment, as he realizes how his words must have come across when repeated that many times. “Fuck. Sorry, lovie, I hadn’t meant it that way. I just don’t want you to feel pressured to do something you’re not comfortable with.”

“I can’t bail on them again, H. I’ve done that enough times already.” She sighs. “And besides... Life’s about getting out of your comfort zone, right?” She forces a smile and returns to applying her makeup, leaning forward to get a closer look in the mirror.

He notices a slight tremor in her hand as she glides the rounded edge of the scarlet lipstick across her bottom lip, then the top one. Her lips now match the colour of her knee-length, satin dress. She spent longer than usual getting ready for tonight, going the extra mile to ensure that her makeup was flawless and every hair was in its place.

Now, as he watches her eyes scan her reflection in the mirror, it’s almost like he can read her mind, like he can see her mentally scrutinizing every little aspect of her appearance that she perceives as an imperfection but he perceives as one of the many things he loves about her.

“You look stunning,” he tells her.

She smiles at him. “Thank you, baby.”

He walks over to her. She turns to face him, leaning her hip against the counter. The movement causes a perfectly curled strand of hair to fall over her shoulder. He gently brushes it back. She truly does look stunning, and it’s making him imagine all the things he wants to do to her right now but can’t because it will only end up making them late for dinner, which won’t be any good for her anxiety.

“I hope you know you don’t need to impress them or anything like that,” he says. “They already love you.”

She gives him a skeptical look. “How can they already love me? They barely know me.”

“Um, not true. I talk about you a lot. Probably far too much. In fact, Jeff has told me to shut up on a few different occasions because I wouldn’t stop going on about you.”

His admission makes her laugh and paints her cheeks a cute shade of pink.

“So, they already know lots about you,” he continues, “and they think you’re amazing, which means there’s nothing to prove. All right?”

She nods. He analyzes her expression closely but still can’t discern whether she actually believes him or not; he can only hope she does. He starts to lean in for a kiss but stops an inch away from her lips. She gazes up at him in confusion.

“I really want to kiss you,” he says, “but your lipstick’s going to get all over me.”

She rolls her eyes. ���You’re such a baby. Come here.” With a hand on the back of his neck, she pulls him in to complete the kiss, then effortlessly wipes the residue off his mouth with her thumb. “See? All gone.” She smiles sweetly, making him want to kiss her all over again.

“Okay, now get out,” she says. “I need to pee before we leave.”

“Fiiine. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

***

They arrive at the restaurant at nearly the same time as Jeff and Glenne. The four of them convene in the parking lot before heading inside together. The reservation is under Jeff’s name. He speaks to the hostess, who guides them to a booth in the private dining area. It’s quieter here, the dim lighting and soft jazz making it feel even more intimate.

Each couple takes one side of the booth. Harry lets Y/N slide in before him. As they get settled, Jeff asks Y/N if she has ever eaten at this restaurant before. She shakes her head in response. Jeff lets out a dramatic gasp.

“What?! H never brought you here?” He shoots Harry a judgmental look. “What kind of boyfriend are you, man?”

“An amazing one, thank you very much,” Harry retorts, adding, “We’ve just never had a chance to come here.”

The real reason Harry has never brought Y/N here before is that eating in public triggers her anxiety. She tried apologizing to him once for her anxiety preventing them from being a “normal” couple who goes on “normal” dates at restaurants, but he refused to let her apologize for something that’s out of her control. And anyway, they don’t need to go out to fancy restaurants to have fun. As long as he’s with her, he’ll have fun no matter where they are.

“Well, Y/N,” says Jeff, “I can assure you this place serves the best food in all of Los Angeles. I would even go as far as saying all of America.”

“Okay, don’t oversell it now,” Glenne intervenes. “You’re going to set her expectations way too high and she’ll be disappointed.”

“Impossible,” he states confidently.

Glenne rolls her eyes and turns to Y/N. “He’s obsessed with this place, in case you couldn’t tell. Brought me here for our first three dates. Not one, not two”—she leans forward to emphasize—“but three.”

“Oh, you loved it.” When she doesn’t refute his statement, a victorious grin spreads across his face.

Y/N seems enamoured with their exchange. “How did you guys meet?” she asks.

They launch into a story about their very first interaction and how that cascaded into them falling madly in love. A story that Harry has heard a million times now and never gets tired of.

He is a hopeless romantic through and through. He loves love.

Jeff and Glenne have always seemed like the perfect match. In all his years of knowing them and especially on the day he officiated their wedding, Harry often found himself wishing that he could find a love like theirs someday—so pure and everlasting.

Although he and Y/N are still in the early stages of their relationship, having dated for only a few months, something keeps telling him that this might be the love he’s been yearning for all along. And every time he’s with her, that feeling is reinforced.

The waiter—a man of average height with neatly styled blonde hair who introduces himself as Dylan—comes by to deliver their menus and obtain their drink orders. When he leaves, Harry, Jeff, and Glenne begin discussing the menu items, bouncing ideas off each other about what to get and commenting on dishes they’ve previously tried.

Y/N is silent. When Harry looks over at her, she’s staring down at her menu blankly, brows furrowed, teeth nibbling on her bottom lip. The menu items do have strange names, and the brief descriptions accompanying them are not very informative, so he can understand her confusion as a first-timer.

He leans over to her and points at an item on her menu. “I think you’ll like that one.”

She seems relieved to finally have some input on what to order. “Okay, I’ll get that then. But, um...” She glances at Jeff and Glenne, who are immersed in their own conversation about the menu, and drops her voice as she asks, “Do you mind ordering it for me? I’ll probably butcher the name if I try.”

“Sure, no problem.” He straightens up in his seat, then leans back over to her to add, “But just so you know, I’ve butchered plenty of these names before, so you wouldn’t be the first to do it.”

She gives him an appreciative grin.

After some time, Dylan the waiter returns with their drinks and notes down their orders. From the corner of his eye, Harry notices Y/N down a large portion of her cocktail in one go.

Ever since she opened up to him about her struggles with social anxiety, he has been trying to read up on it to understand and support her better. He recalls reading somewhere that people with social anxiety often use alcohol to soothe their nerves before and during social interactions. He has certainly caught Y/N doing that on several occasions. It may not be the healthiest coping mechanism, but he doesn’t judge her for it. He knows from experience what an effective, though temporary, salve alcohol can be for difficult emotions.

“So, Y/N, how did you and H meet?” Glenne asks. “I’ve heard the story from him, but I want to hear your side of it.”

The three of them stare at Y/N expectantly. Her leg is bouncing up and down under the table. Harry places his hand on her thigh, squeezing it gently, reassuringly.

She clears her throat. “We, um, we met in a Zoom meeting.”

“Isn’t that so romantic?” Harry jokes, eliciting a laugh from them.

Y/N seems to relax a bit.

“Wait, hold on,” says Glenne. “Rewind before the Zoom meeting. Harry told me Jeff reached out to you about getting your help with some merch designs?”

“Right, yeah, I’ll start from there,” says Y/N. “Jeff actually reached out to my friend Rosie. She handles all my social media and helps my art gain exposure—all the things I’m not so good at,” she laughs. “So, Rosie called me and said that Harry’s team had reached out to her about my artwork and asked if I would be willing to help design some new exclusive merch for him. I was about to say no at first because well, the thought of my art being seen on such a massive scale was... terrifying. But Rosie convinced me that it would be a great opportunity, so I said yes.”

“Thank God,” Harry mumbles off to the side.

She smiles, continuing, “So, Jeff and Rosie set up a Zoom meeting for the four of us. I was absolutely terrified. Rosie had to do all the talking. I probably said five words the whole time.”

“I remember exactly what she said.” He counts on his fingers as he lists off the only phrases she uttered that day, “She said ‘hi,’ she said ‘thank you’ twice, and she said ‘bye.’”

Glenne chuckles, looking fondly between the two of them.

“The second meeting was much better,” says Y/N. “I actually had to talk since Rosie couldn’t make it. Harry made me feel really comfortable, and I realized he wasn’t scary at all. He also kept reassuring me that I would get credit for my work, as if he thought I was afraid he’d take my designs and run off with them.”

“Yup, classic Harry,” Jeff remarks, nodding along.

Harry’s cheeks grow warm. “Well, I thought that was why you were being so hesitant!” he explains to Y/N. “It’s happened to other people. Didn’t want you to think I was like that. I’m a man of integrity, you know.”

“Oh, I never doubted that, baby.” She places her hand on top of his on her thigh.

“What a sweet story,” says Glenne.

“Who knew people could find love over Zoom?” Jeff jokes.

“Maybe they should change their branding and become a dating website,” Y/N adds facetiously, earning a laugh from all of them.

It delights Harry to see her opening up to his friends. This is the Y/N that he wanted them to see—the funny, opinionated person beneath the shy, reserved exterior. There are so many layers to her, and he finds himself uncovering more and more each day.

Their orders arrive a few minutes later. Everyone except Y/N digs into their food ravenously. She takes several sips of her drink before even touching anything on her plate. On the way there, Harry told her that she could sneak her food onto his plate if her nerves were making it hard to eat.

“You’re just saying that because you like stealing my food,” she said when he suggested that.

“You got me,” he replied with a smirk.

Dinner goes swimmingly. Y/N loosens up more and more as time goes on. He can’t be sure whether it’s the effects of the alcohol—she’s had a few refills of her drink—or the fact that she’s growing comfortable around Jeff and Glenne, but he would like to think it’s mostly the latter.

After they’ve finished eating and paid the bill, Y/N and Glenne take a trip to the restroom while Harry and Jeff wait for them outside the entrance.

“Y/N seems awesome,” says Jeff. “I can’t believe you’ve been hiding her from us this whole time.”

Harry gives him an amused look. “I haven’t been ‘hiding’ her. She’s just shy. Takes her a bit to get comfortable around new people, you know?”

“I get that. Hopefully, she can start coming out with us more often. Seems like she’s going to be around for a while.” He smirks and playfully nudges Harry, who coughs into his fist to cover up the boyish grin on his face.

The door to the restaurant swings open, and out comes Glenne with her arm wrapped around Y/N’s. They’re both laughing about something.

“Someone’s a little tipsy,” says Glenne, as they approach the men. “She almost walked into a wall coming out of the restroom.”

Y/N hiccups. “It came out of nowhere!”

“Good thing I caught her in time.”

“Thanks, Glenne,” says Harry. “I’ll take it from here.” He puts an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders, pulling her close to him.

“I’m really not that drunk,” she insists, hiccupping again.

“Whatever you say, lovie,” he teases, planting a kiss on the side of her head.

***

Y/N hardly says a word on the ride home. Harry doesn’t think anything of it. He’s still musing over what a wonderful night it was and how happy he is that his friends got along so well with his girlfriend.

When they get home, it’s still pretty early, so they decide to watch a movie on the couch. Y/N lays with her head on his chest, face directed towards the TV. She hasn’t moved or spoken in a while, so he assumes she must have fallen asleep in the middle of the movie, but then she suddenly sits up.

“I’m pretty tired,” she tells him. “I think I’ll head to bed, but you can finish the movie without me.”

“Are you sure?”

She nods and gives him a kiss goodnight before standing up and leaving the room.

The movie is still playing, but Harry can no longer focus. Something about the way Y/N avoided his eyes when she got up and her brisk steps toward the stairs has left him feeling strange. He tries to tell himself that she probably was just tired and eager to crawl into bed, but that explanation doesn’t quite satisfy him.

His gut is urging him to go upstairs and check on her. He waits a few minutes before doing so, quietly climbing the stairs and approaching the bedroom at the end of the hall. The lights are off, but the door is open. He peeks inside and sees Y/N laying there under the covers, wide awake, staring up at the ceiling.

“Lovie?”

She jumps a little at his voice and turns to look at him. “What are you doing here? I said you could finish the movie without me.”

“It’s no fun without you.” He walks in and sits down on the bed next to her, switching on the lamp on the bedside table. “Wanna tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” He lightly taps her forehead, bringing a small smile to her lips.

“Nothing. It’s stupid.” She closes her eyes and sighs. When she opens them again, there’s a sadness behind them. “I’m sorry, H.”

“For what?”

“For embarrassing you in front of your friends tonight.”

He frowns. “Embarrassing me? Is this about you getting a bit drunk? There’s nothing wrong with that, you know. It’s not like you were climbing on tables and cussing at bystanders. That would have been embarrassing, albeit hilarious.”

“It’s not just that.” She shakes her head. “It was... It was everything. I was trying so hard to act normal, but everything that came out of my mouth just felt awkward, and then there’s the fact that I hardly ate anything and I know Jeff noticed that because he kept glancing over at my plate and I could tell he was wondering why I was acting so strange, and I also feel like I wasn’t contributing to the conversation as much as I should have, but I—I just didn’t know what to say and now I’m worried that they think I’m boring or—or—”

“Y/N, hey.” He places a gentle hand on her chest to halt her rambling. “Take a deep breath for me.”

He feels her chest rise as she inhales deeply, then fall as she exhales slowly.

“Good. Now listen to me. You did not embarrass me, so get that out of your head right now, okay?”

She nods.

“And all those worries floating around in your head? They’re not real, my love. Dinner went really well. You were wonderful. I was having a great time, and I thought you were too, but I might’ve misinterpreted things—”

“You didn’t. I was having a good time. It was only after we left that I started getting in my head about it...” She pouts. “I just really wanted them to like me.”

“They do. I promise they do. You know what Jeff said to me while we were waiting outside for you and Glenne? He said you’re awesome and he hopes you’ll come out with us more often. Now why would he say that if he didn’t like you?”

She shrugs. “Maybe he was just trying to be polite?”

That almost makes him keel over with laughter. “Sweetheart, Jeff and I are way past the point of politeness. If he doesn’t like someone I’m seeing, he does not hesitate to tell me.”

She stares up at the ceiling again, biting on her lip. “Did he really say that?” she asks eventually.

“He did. But in case you don’t believe me, let me show you a text I received from Glenne after we got home.”

He takes his phone out of his pocket and opens up his messages with Glenne. The most recent one says, “Hey, I completely forgot to get Y/N’s number. Would you mind sending it to me? I’d love to plan a shopping trip with her sometime.” He allows Y/N to read it for herself.

She looks at him when she’s done.

“Believe me now?” he asks.

“Yes.” Pulling the covers up over her head, she releases a frustrated groan. “Why am I like this? Why do I get so in my head about these things?”

He lies down next to her and brings the covers back down below her face. “It’s okay. It’s just your mind playing tricks on you, that’s all.”

“How do you even put up with me?”

“The real question is, how do you”—he shifts to get on top of her, his face hovering above hers—“put up with me”—he kisses her lips—“constantly wanting to be around you”—then her neck—“all the bloody time?”

She giggles and squirms at the feeling of his lips leaving sloppy, open-mouthed kisses all along her neck. As he continues showering her with kisses, all the tension seems to evaporate from her body. She melts into the mattress. Determined to help her relax even further, he lifts up the covers from the bottom and ducks under them.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“I’ve heard the best remedy for anxious thoughts is an orgasm.”

He can hear the amusement in her voice as she replies, “Oh, is that right?”

“Mhm.” His hands slide up her thighs, spreading them apart to make room for himself.

“Did you read that on WebMD?”

“Something like that.”

***

Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

[ashensgrotto]

The Sea's Sacrifice (Part 2)

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto / Jade Leech / Floyd Leech x Fem!Reader

Total Word Count: 14.7k+

Part 1 Part 2 (You Are Here) Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Synopsis: A potential job as a marine biologist’s assistant leaves (Y/N) feeling something fishy going on behind the scene…

Author’s Notes: Original Idea came from @merakiui ’s annonymous ask with a short story / headcannon -> https://www.tumblr.com/merakiui/684490143936167936/ooohhh-i-love-those-writing-ideas-you-had-for-sea?source=share

and I absolutely love this concept and wanted to take it a step further. I don’t write yandere nor fanfiction as much as I did a few years ago. However, I do hope I do this piece justice; I will have links to the next part once it is completed and ready for viewing.

Also, this is a work of fiction. I disagree with anyone that justifies the following behaviors which are represented in this fic (if I think of more, I will add them as I go):

rape/non-consent/dub-consent, possessive/controlling/dominating behaviors, and manipulation

Come my love be one with the sea

Rule with me for eternity

Drown all dreams so mercilessly

And leave their souls to me

***

You don’t see the twins for the remainder of the day.

When you make mention of the encounter in passing to Crewel that evening, the man only smiles - and not in a warm way whatsoever.

“It would seem that our puppy here has peaked their interest,” the eccentric man grinned, an unsettling look on his face as he bares his teeth, “It’s interesting how Floyd has taken the first step, though - I thought for certain Jade would’ve been the one to approach you first.”

“Floyd? Jade?” you arch a brow at the black and white cloaked professor, “Those things have names?”

“They are not things, pup,” Crewel taps his cigarette case against the palm of his hand before pulling one out and lighting it up, “To answer your question, yes, the mers do have names. While you were waiting for them to make their first appearance with you, Trein and I have been working on cracking their communication code. All three speak in chirps, clicks, and coos - though their growls are both intriguing and nerve-wrecking. We believe, based on how quickly they chirp or click, they are either warning each other of danger, food, or saying each other’s names.”

“And how did you figure out their names?”

“It’s a mere guess - but the sound waves we see on our monitors follow a similar pattern as the sound waves in the air following the pronunciation of the names ‘ Jade ’ and ‘Floyd. ’ We’ve also hidden cameras in the enclosure and have heard them speak in our language during playback sessions after certain incidents - such as the attacks on our coworkers.” 

“And part of my job is to see how much of our language they know and potentially teach them more?”

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt to know how much they know or teach them,” Crewel chuckled, “one can’t be too careful with so much knowledge after all.”

‘Knowledge was power,’ you recalled someone telling you once long ago, ‘and too much power could either destroy you or save you.’

“Regardless,” Crewel continued, “I, personally, think it would be interesting to see exactly how much they know about us land dwellers. It would allow us to know if they are watching us and, if so, where we should look to find more - maybe even see how they live and coexist with each other, what parts of the ocean they are likely to hide out in… maybe even see how they mate!”

You sputter, “M-mate?!”

“Of course it’s perfectly natural for animals to go through mating seasons,” Crewel answered with a shrug, “For scientific purposes, it would be interesting to see if they mate like their animal forms or if they follow the human side of romantic courtship.”

‘I’m beginning to think you and the rest of this group are a bunch of perverts,’ you thought to yourself, grinding your teeth together, “And what are you going to do about… that particular question?”

“I think that is enough questions for the day,” Crewel raised his arms above his head, a popping noise indicating a cracked back as he let out a yawn, “Come, puppy. Both of us need rest - we’re going to have a busy day tomorrow.”

***

You didn’t see the twins when you first came in the following morning, nor even after depositing your stuff beside the coat rack and your lunch into the freezer. 

At first, you thought maybe they didn’t exist and you had dreamt up the encounter; but the memory of Crewel’s grin and comment about interacting with ‘Floyd’ kept replaying in your mind as you prepared the merfolks’ breakfast. As you leaned down to dump the second bucket into the pool, a sudden splash of water soaked you from head to toe - forcing you to drop your bucket and fall back on the concrete flooring, sputtering as giggles and clicking noises filled the room.  You brushed your damp hair and salted water away from your eyes as they fell on a familiar figure leaning over the edge of the pool.

Skin the color of seaweed shone under the dimmed fluorescent lights while a set of heterochromic eyes gleamed in delight at your surprise. A grin spread across the mer’s features, revealing a set of shark-like teeth that flashed in satisfaction, the dark teal strand falling in front of his features. 

You huff, grunting as you slowly stand and arch a brow at the creature, “Was that really necessary?”

The creature only beamed wider, clearly pleased with your reaction.

“Honestly, you scared me - nearly gave me a heart attack.”

The creature clicked a few times before pushing himself away and swimming around close to the edge, watching as you grab the last bucket and bring it to the edge.

“No more surprises, ok?” you eye the creature as you reach in and pull out a squid that was about the size of your palm - much larger than a fry, but too small for an adult - offering it to him, “I give you this, you won’t splash me again, deal?”

The moray mer chirps, moving his head in a nod and shifting his body slightly before you toss the squid in his direction. He catches it mid-air like a dog with a tennis ball, the squid dangling out of his mouth as he beams at you. You watch him carefully as you dump the contents into the water and he begins his meal. He starts with the tentacles, pulling them apart and gnawing on them while his webbed hands dug into the mantle of the miniature sea beast - strings of muscle, blood, and ink staining his features before crunching of bone echoes around.  

“Geez, take it easy,” you grumble, “no one is going to take it from you.”

The mer stops and regards you with a look that means, ‘Shut up, I’m trying to enjoy my meal.’

You return the buckets to the side of the freezer before grabbing your notebook and take a seat at the pool’s edge, opening it and beginning to jot down notes.

6:05 am: One of the mers has made an appearance this morning. Based on what I was told by Professor Crewel last night, I believe this one is Floyd - one of the twin morays. It’s hard to differentiate between the two of them, but if I had to venture a guess - Floyd is far more playful than his brother -

Nails clicked against the edge of the pool, forcing you to look up to see Floyd leaning over the edge, studying the word on the notebook. He shifted his gaze from the words before looking at you and back again. 

“What’s up?” 

Floyd chirped at you, crossing his arms and resting his chin on them, eyes watching your every movement as he continued to click and coo.

He stayed like this for the next several hours, clicks and chirps echoing in the room as you shifted between taking notes and partially listening to him. You figured he was telling you something, but since you didn’t understand him, you could only nod and hum in his direction as if you did understand. 

“Hungry,” he says eventually, the word throwing you off guard for a moment.

“Did you just.. Say ‘hungry’?” you asked, blink incredulously.

“Hungry,” Floyd said again, a grin spreading across his features, his eyes narrowing as he eyed you like a piece of shrimp.

“Alright, one moment Floyd,” you move to stand, only for your ankle to be caught by a webbed grip.

You turn, confused to see a look of surprise on the mer’s face.

“Name?” Floyd inquires.

“Are you asking if I know your name?” when the mer nods, you smile, “I was told your name. But, excuse me, I never introduced myself - I’m (Y/N). I’ve been tasked as your keeper.”

It was a white lie - a big one at that - but you weren’t sure if Floyd understood what ‘keeper’ meant nor if he understood that the three of them were under observation. However, you did want to be cautious in the event that in the case Floyd and the others did understand what was going on around them, you wouldn't be seen as a threat.

Floyd spoke your name softly, tasting the words on his tongue before grinning, baring sharp teeth as he shouted, “(Y/N)!” 

You couldn’t help but giggle a bit, murmuring behind a hand that covered your mouth, “That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”

Next thing you knew, Floyd launched himself from the edge of the pool and disappeared into the murky water, leaving you curious as to what he was up to. However, if he intended to splash you again, you weren’t going to stick around to find out.

You stood, stretching your back and legs before moving towards the freezer, with the intention of pulling out the three buckets for lunch when Floyd’s voice came again, “(Y/N)! (Y/N)!”

You turned with bucket in hand as Floyd approached the edge, his brother in tow - though he stayed at least a foot away from the edge, but keeping a close eye on you and his twin. You reach the edge a squat down, offering a smile to the second moray mer and a hand outstretched in a non-threatening manner. 

“Hello. You must be Jade, right?”

‘Jade’ lifts his head, allowing you to see his full face and neck, the water lapping at his shoulders, as surprise etched across his features. He blinks slowly, moving a little bit closer before his voice, soft and deep, speaks.

“Know name?”

‘So, Jade knows a few more words than Floyd,’ you think to yourself before nodding, “Yeah, I know your name. I told Floyd that I was told both of your names - I was assigned as your keeper for the time being.”

“Keeper?” Jade askes, head cocking to the side like a dog would.

“Yes, I’m in charge of taking care of you during the day. I’ll be here most of the time, except at night when I have to leave. But I’ll be here to feed you in the morning, afternoon, and evening, and spend time with you guys during the in between hours.”

The twins looked at each other, both clicking and chirping - eyes shifting between your crouched figure and themselves. The looks they shared during these few moments made you feel a bit uneasy, like they were sizing you up for a meal; it reminded you of the lewd glances you received from drunks at the bars you used to work when you first started working, hands sliding up your uniforms before one of the bartenders would step in and smack them away, reminding them the girls were not for touching. It made you shudder, goose pimples rising along your arms.

Jade seemed to notice, clicking softly at his brother as his features relaxed, heterochromia eyes softening on your figure.

“Hungry,” Jade’s voice brought you back, “We… are… hungry.”

***

It only took about a week for Jade to eventually warm up to you, the three of you getting along - even with Floyd’s continued antics.

From what you observed, Jade was the eldest of the two moray twins - he was courteous to you and most of the staff that had on more than one occasion popped in to check on you during your sessions with the two and often kept Floyd from getting too much out of hand; although he seemed to be the one that would antagonize his younger brother with a few clicks and chirps in his direction before Floyd would splash you with water or attempt to pull you in for a swim. Regardless, Jade was always there to pull his brother back while Floyd shrieked in mer - their native tongue that you supplied in your notes, thrashing about while the eldest cooed in delight at how quickly Floyd could be worked up. 

Jade was also very intelligent, often poking at the books you had brought along with you and chirping with curiosity. Unlike his brother, who had the attention span of a three-year-old, Jade listened intently to each word and pronounced them back to you with a few stutters here and there before saying the word like he was born to speak. He couldn’t form coherent sentences without the occasional click or chirp, but then again - speaking your native tongue was like you learning to speak his, it would take time and practice before he could reach that point. 

The easiest words for Jade are your name, the word ‘pearl,’ and greetings. He always glowers when the time comes for you to leave before grumbling in the water, bubbles appearing around his face as he sinks under the surface with only the top of his head and eyes peering out from beneath the enclosure’s water surface. Floyd had picked up on this and began copying his brother, both of them looking like angry puffer fish each time you leave the enclosure and lock the door behind you.

Trein stops you one evening on your way out, a black and white cat in his arms, “How are things going, little keeper?”

“I think I’m making progress,” you answer, holding out your filled up notebook from the first month to him, “Crewel requested I give you this at the end of the first month.”

“I should hope so,” Trein took the notebook, shifting the lazy cat in his arms around to flip through the pages, “I saw that you’ve become quite comfortable around the twins - Floyd nearly drowned you in the pool the other day, yes?”

“Almost, though I think he was just playing around,” you answer, “he’s like a little kid - so energetic.”

“Perhaps… How's the research on our cecaelia?”

“The cecaelia?”

Trein raised one brow as the cat harrumphed at you, “Did you forget there are three of them?”

“I suppose I did,” you gulp before shrugging sheepishly.

“Do not forget that there is more than just the twins in that enclosure,” Trein warned, closing the notebook with a loud snap in one hand, “The sea is as dangerous as its mysteries that lurk beneath its surface. The twins may be comfortable around you, but the cecaelia is something no one has ever seen, much less interacted with. If it were to pull you under the waters tomorrow, we’d never know what happened, and I doubt the twins would do much to save you either.”

“I won’t let anything happen,” you answer with a strong resolve, brows creasing inward, “besides, if Crewel’s hunch is correct, I might be able to get the twins to persuade the mer out if I play my cards right.”

“You better. Remember, you only have two months left. I’d like to see some progress before the end of next month.”

***

As was expected, the twins were no help at all.

Each day for the next week, you attempted to discuss the octomer with the twins - you figured if you could get more information about the mer in question, you might be able to indicate something about him in your notes. Unfortunately, the twins couldn't completely understand you - even when you drew out a picture of what appeared to be an octopus and tapped a finger against the drawing. They did, thankfully, seem to understand you were curious about the third member of their trio, with Floyd chirping "Octo-chan" a few times before disappearing under the water.

The only piece of information you could gather was a word, spoken by Jade when you first asked about the mer.

Azul.

But, azul was a color - blue, to be precise. What does "azul" have to do with an octopus? You contemplated this for several hours after the twins left you to your devices one morning. They had greeted you in their usual fashion before taking their leave and disappearing under the water. It had been about two weeks since Jade had spoken the word and even when you asked about it, the clicking and chirping that came from both mers had you scratching your head in confusion. 

Maybe "Azul" wasn't a color, but a name? Or code? 

You scratch the back of your neck as you look at the chart you've drawn out - hoping that you might get some answers. "Okay, let's see," you push the notebook forward and roll to lay on your stomach as the bottom end of the pen traces through the drawn lines and words, "Floyd and Jade are twins - that much is straightforward - and are literal polar opposites of each other. Other than looks, both of them are connected by the octomer who may or may not be named Azul. However, how are the three of them connected? How did they meet?"

You circle the question before moving on to the next part, "As for Azul - he doesn't seem fond of humans as the morays seem to be his protectors. We know he is an octopus, based on eyewitnesses during their capture - however, we don't know much else about him."

You tap your pen against the notepad before flipping through the other notebook that sat beside you, rereading all of the notes you had gathered during the course of the week when discussing the octomer to the morays. You shifted to a kneeling position, your body getting tired of laying flat on your stomach when you felt a pair of eyes watching you.

You turn your head toward the pool, eyes nearly popping out as a head dunks itself low, the top mop of white and lavender shaded hair falling across a set of unfamiliar sea blue eyes.

Dove gray skin glowed in the dimmed fluorescent lighting as the sea blue eyes peered at you curiously, pupils horizontal slits that expanded and constricted as the two of you locked eyes with each other. When he raised his head, the water revealed several long strands of silver that rested about chin length on the left side of his face - the rest of the starlight colored hair cut short with water dripping from the tips and creating little pointed tips on the ends. Full lips were slightly parted with surprise, a little beauty mark resting just below his bottom lip and nearly blocked by the long strand. Unlike Floyd and Jade, his ears matched that of a human - rounded and uncut by earrings many humans wore. Below him, you could only see blackness - a darkness that cut through the murky waters of the pool as multiple limbs shifted in the water.

Overall, the octomer was stunning.

You took a deep breath and smiled softly at him, holding out a hand to him, “Hello. It’s nice to finally meet you. Are you Azul?”

The octomer looks around cautiously before returning his gaze to you with a slow nod.

“You have a beautiful name, Azul. I’m (Y/N) - though I’m sure the twins told you about me.”

Azul nods, slowly reaching a hand out towards yours open one.

“(Y/N)?” the voice of Crewel comes from the entrance of the enclosure.

Startled, Azul disappears under the waves as the twins appear, a heavy wave of water dousing the two of you - causing the two of you to sputter in surprise. Jade growls at Crewel, snapping his jaws in a threatening manner while Floyd leans over the edge of the pool, getting into a protective stance in front of you and snarling at the professor before shifting his gaze at you with worry.

The only thing you can think of as you watch the scene before you unfold is, ‘Did I manage to become a part of Jade and Floyd’s group? If so, what happens now?’

[lol-jackles]

tumblr /jenmishperceiver/747567018487726080/i-think-if-anything-put-the-final-nail-in-the> I've seen this assumption before and imo it's spin: Jensen said repeatedly that he told the group he wanted to think about the script, went home TO HIS WIFE and said he was uncomfortable, who then suggested calling Kripke, ect // In all the retellings, I've never actually seen it said Jensen fought with the writers OR EVEN TOLD THEM and Jared he was uncomfortable until AFTER he'd changed his mind to agreed

Bitter Destiel shippers are those kinds of people who fall for IRS telephone scams.

You're correct, Jensen never said in any of his retellings that he fought with writers nor did he tell them or Jared he's having a hard time "digesting" until AFTER he talked to Kripke and was convinced by Kripke that "Carry On" was the right ending for fans. You know, the real fans who watch the show for what it really is: Sam's hero journey with his beloved brother, Dean.

That said, while you're correct that it's Jensen's job to sell the concept, he has also been pitching a Dean-led spinoff for years. Remember his "dream" (X) that he pitched during the SPN press junket?   I didn’t side-eye his PCA campaigns or his pursuit for Dean-centric storylines, but I did raise my eyebrows at his ballsy move to publicly pitch his post-Sam projects in front of Jared and Misha. What does the jenmishperciever's Anon say about that? Hummm?

Actors are always pitching their project ideas, they're just a bit more subtle about it. I'm certain Jensen had hoped the "dream" would catch on with the fans and they would campaign for it. Except not even AAs were down with the idea. Casual fans even less so. Lucky for you I saved the screenshot from the article:

Reading through jenmishperciever's Anon's self-soothing fanfiction is like watching bread grow old right before your eyes; same delusions we've seen for the past 12 years. Blame Jared for playing Sam who was in the way of a fake fetish ship from becoming canon that Less than 1% of the SPN audience ships. Said Jared's drunken arrest (I refuse to call it a bar fight, it was a group hug gone wrong) could have threaten the ENTIRE filming of the SPN final season while ignoring Anthony Starr's drunken arrest, which by the Anon's logic, would have threaten the ENTIRE filming of The Boys.

Lol they still pretend to believe that Kripke gave the SPN rights to Jensen when Kripke is SUEING WB over profit participation over SPN.

The only thing Jensen cared about with his SPN spinoff was lens crafting, which was why The Winchesters was a Shein version of an AU fanfic. Remember when Jensen told TW cast “don’t fuck it up for me”? After 15-20 years, Jensen is used to lead actors/Jareds doing the heavy lifting in carrying the show and being leader of the cast and crew and he benefitted from the sweet spot as #2 on the call sheet i.e. the good guy who is friends with everyone.

If Jensen keeps trying to be in charge of SPN projects, SPN fans’ reaction is going to be the same as today Marvel fanboys’ reaction every time they hear Kevin Feige’s name: “What did you did do this time you Son of a Bitch!? What train did you derail this time?”

Since Supernatural ended 4 years ago, the bitter Destiel hellers and AAs are stuck in a time loop of step 1 through 4 of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression). S tep 5 is acceptance, which is long delayed due to Jared’s continue success i.e. Walker in it's 4th season and #1 scripted show for CW.

[canonicallyobserving911]

“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

Season 7 FANON Speculation: Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - Hiatus Reading: “I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Chapter 26 is now available on AO3.

Please note: Chapters 24 and 25 were posted at the same time.

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Currently 26 chapters completed: 1M Words; Rated: Mature

One chapter will be posted at a time.

___________

Here's a snippet from Chapter 26 of an emotionally distraught and hysterical Eddie while he's on the phone with 9-1-1.

___________

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“Yes I’m at 4995 S. Bedford St. and I have an adult male, 31 years of age who's unconscious and unresponsive and I need medical response.”

“Ok sir, can I get your name?”

“Eddie Diaz! I’m a firefighter and a paramedic with the 118.”

“Eddie!” Linda asks.

“Yes! Linda, I’m so glad it’s you.” He heaves past the sob lodged in the back of his throat that feels like a ping pong ball and continues. “Listen, it’s Buck… SHIT!” He stops talking because he remembers he needs to follow protocol for her recording then he tries again. “I mean you need his first and last name for the call. It’s my husband Evan Diaz and he’s also a firefighter with the—the 118.”

“Ok Eddie, I’m checking to see which RA unit is closest to that address but can you tell me what happened?”

“I—I don’t know but I came into the living room; he was swaying back and forth and I caught him before he—he hit the floor. I manually checked his vitals by doing the ABC method… I opened his airway, checked his breathing along with his circulation, then I—I got my medical bag and checked his pupillary response which is fine but his pulse, his blood pressure and his heart rate... and all of them are still low which is why I believe he might be having a bradycardia event. Linda… oh my god, whatever is happening to him is more serious than syncope because he’s still unresponsive.”

“Can you tell me how long he’s been down?”

“It’s been more than two minutes but I didn’t start counting until after I caught him so I could be one or two seconds off.”

“Ok, Eddie, our closest unit is 6 minutes away.”

He frowns and loudly asks, “Six minutes? Why?! I’m sorry please—please forgive me for being loud but I... I—I’m asking because there’s a fire station less than 4 minutes away from here.” He feels like he’s about to crawl out of his skin because the proximity of their home to the closest fire station in this area is one of the reasons why he decided to purchase it. He wanted to be close to one for Chris just in case they ever have to call emergency services.

Will the RA unit arrive in time to save Buck or will Eddie lose the love of his life? 👀

___________

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it.  But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.

__________

Chapter Summaries

Chapter 1 - Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.

Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.

Chapter 3 - After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.

Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.

Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.

Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.

Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago.  They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are the foundations of a long-lasting love relationship.

Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.

Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial.  But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.

Chapter 10 - As Buck and Eddie finally begin to confront their past traumas, they realize how much they need each other to fill in the gaps of their memories.  Additionally, the universe screams at them for what appears to be the one hundredth time so Buck can realize he doesn’t have to ‘find it’ because he already ‘made it’ and Eddie’s reminded tomorrow isn’t promised and he doesn’t have to die alone if he doesn’t want to.

Chapter 11 - A “virga” or dry thunderstorm is in the forecast but once the rain starts, the thunderstorm happening outside won’t be able to match the storm brewing inside between Buck and Eddie.  It’s the universe’s final scream and when the tumultuous winds begin to blow, they’ll have one last chance to hold onto everything they’ve built over the last six years or they’ll lose it all forever.

Chapter 12 - Buck and Eddie have always shared a deep physical attraction and an emotional intimacy that’s unmatched but now that they’re in a relationship, they’re learning how to navigate the romantic intimacy they’ve been waiting for six years to explore. The love they have for each other is a once in a lifetime, soulmate, love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time.

Chapter 13 - While navigating the newness of their romantic relationship, Buck and Eddie take advantage of every moment they spend together. As their individual lives, people from their pasts, time constraints and the possibility of losing each other again make attempts to interrupt and interfere with their journey to forever, they love, care for, support and hold onto each other even tighter to withstand it all.

Chapter 14 - Buck and Eddie can see the lights at the end of the tunnels regarding the results of Buck’s Cancer Screening along with everything else they’re dealing with. But are the lights they see exits to the tunnels or are they headlights on different runaway trains that are speeding towards them in an effort to interrupt their forever?

Chapter 15 - Buck and Eddie have known they were exactly who the other one wanted in a partner since they met six years ago when they agreed to have each other’s backs. They’re in a romantic relationship, they’re both preparing to ask the other one to spend forever with them and by the end of the seventh week into their relationship, together they will plan their most important and greatest adventure for their future.

Chapter 16 - As Buck and Eddie begin to prepare for their marriage ceremony that will take place in Rome, Italy in December 2023, they start planning their first international adventure as a romantic couple. Even though Chris is still the only person they’ve told about their relationship, several people who know them have already witnessed the love they share and as the days continue, others will witness it too.

Chapter 17 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to departing Los Angeles for their international adventure, a moment in time will remind them; life is fragile, tomorrow isn’t promised and every second of everyday should be cherished because everything can change in an instant. The result of that realization will cause them to hold onto each other even more.

Chapter 18 - As Buck, Eddie and Chris prepare for family gatherings before and during the Thanksgiving holiday, the “Santa Ana Winds” start to blow and all sorts of expected and unexpected familial drama ensues.

Chapter 19 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to their wedding day, the universe begins to align everything so that some of their parent and children's relationships are strengthened while others come to an abrupt end.

Chapter 20 - With only 14 days remaining until Buck, Eddie and Chris depart Los Angeles, CA traveling to Rome, Italy, for their first family adventure, an early morning conversation about “tying up loose ends” helps Buck and Eddie realize there are still several things left unfinished on their ‘To Do’ lists. The question is will there be enough time to complete all of them?

Chapter 21 - Buck, Eddie and Chris are finalizing their ‘To Do’ Lists, double checking their itineraries and packing their suitcases in preparation for their trip to Europe so they can board their flight that departs Los Angeles, CA on Friday, December 15, 2023 at 3:25PM.

Chapter 22 - While Buck, Eddie and Chris spend the first 8 days of their European family adventure in Italy, their primary reason for going will be fulfilled as well as several others they hadn’t considered or anticipated.

Chapter 23 - As the Diaz Family continues their Italian family adventure, they’ll say, “Ciao” or hello and goodbye to a lot of things almost immediately after they become an official and legal family.

Chapter 24 - After Buck, Eddie and Chris arrive in London, England on December 24th; the Diazes immediately start preparing to spend their first family Christmas together. During their stay, each of them will hear a few choice words that will be the life raft to get them home to complete their searches to be seen and to be found.

Chapter 25 - After spending more than two weeks in Europe, Eddie, Buck and Chris are back in Los Angeles and they’re getting ready to attend Maddie and Chimney’s New Year’s Eve party. During the event, they have plans to make two surprise announcements but the question is, who’s really going to be surprised, the Diaz family or their found family at the 118?

Chapter 26 - Buck and Eddie are once again faced with their greatest fear of losing each other but this time it could be permanent and if it is, then they won’t be able to spend the rest of their lives together.

Chapter 27 - Will be posted soon.

__________

Read chapters 1-26 are available on AO3.

Continue reading on AO3

[nanowrimo]

How to Choose the Right Story Idea

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. Scrivener, a 2023 NaNoWriMo sponsor, is an award-winning writing app containing all the tools you need to get writing and keep writing. They’ve teamed up with S J Watson, bestselling author of Before I Go To Sleep, to get some tips on deciding if your story idea is a good one. 

If you’re writing fiction, the thing that must come first is the idea. Without that we have nothing. But what are ideas; how do we get them; and crucially, how can we choose which ones are good enough to sustain a long piece of fiction? 

These are big questions, so let’s consider them here. 

What is an Idea?

I came across two interesting dictionary definitions of what an idea is:

Something such as a thought or conception that is the product of mental activity; and

A sense that something can happen, a notion or expectation.

The seeds of ideas are everywhere. Everything we see, hear, read or watch can spark a thought, and we need to remain alert to those sparks, as some might become useful ideas. But being alert is not enough. Rarely do ideas arrive fully formed. Usually we have to actively work on promising nuggets in order to turn them into gold. We can’t just sit around and wait for the lightning bolt to strike.

Instead, get used to actively, and playfully, interrogating your daily musings. Ask yourself questions. ‘I wonder what would happen if…’ or, ‘Why did that person just..?’ etc. Don’t censor yourself. Let your mind take you to wild and fanciful places. You can always reign it back in later. Fill your notebook.

Choosing an idea to work on

Not all ideas are created equal. So how do we choose? Look at the second definition above. Some ideas seem exciting at first but they’re limited. It’s hard to see how they can lead to interesting characters and high-stakes conflict. Others invite you into a world brimming with possibilities. They seem to open doors. These are the ones to work on.

The best, most fertile ideas, are magnetic. They grow by attracting other ideas to them. You’ll notice connections, and find yourself asking ‘What if..?’ and ‘I wonder why..?’ more and more. When this happens, you know you’re on to something, but at this point it can still help to ask yourself some questions.

First, which ideas excite you?  Are there any that you can’t quite believe no one else has written? If so, go for it! If not, then perhaps proceed more cautiously. Don’t reject them outright, necessarily. Maybe you just need an extra ingredient or two. Give it time and wait until you do get that glimmer of excitement. 

Next, can you see a protagonist with a goal and obstacles that stand in their way? If not, maybe you have an idea for a situation, but not an actual novel. ‘What if a totalitarian regime came to power?’ is not an idea for a story, but ‘What if two people fall in love in a world governed by a regime that has outlawed romantic attachment?’ is. Again, keep going, stir the pot until you can come up with characters and conflict.

Also ask, are the stakes high enough to maintain a reader’s interest, and if not can they be raised? Are their problems, if not universal, then at least relatable? A professor searching for the key to immortality is one thing, but a professor searching for the key to immortality because his wife is dying is suddenly something else. Keep going until you feel that tug of universality. 

Finally, does your idea seem original?  This is important, but beware! Almost everything has been done before, the key is how you combine ideas and what you do with them. Don’t reject every idea that is reminiscent of something else, but instead look for how you’re going to make it your own. 

In short, daydream, be playful with your thoughts and observations, and sooner or later something will come along that seems on fire with possibility. Congratulations! Now the hard work starts…

SJ Watson is author of Before I Go To Sleep, which was turned into a film starring Nicole Kidman. He has since published two further psychological thrillers, Second Life and Final Cut, and has set up The Writers’ Lodge, which aims to help and support writers at every stage of their creative writing journey. S J Watson recently launched a public novel writing project called The Experiment. He writes using Scrivener.

All NaNoWriMo participants receive 20% off Scrivener for macOS and Windows from now until December 7, 2023, with the code NANOWRIMO23 .

Top photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash.