#would love if folks wanted to share their own tips

[inkskinned]

sometimes i think about the span of human existence and how if you spread your arms out in a long line and said my body is acting as a poem of all the universe's birthdays, the smallest sliver of your furthest nail would be our entire history as humans. and you, doing this, feeling your sternum crack into place because you're-getting-old and all of your bones crunch these days: you are the universe, measuring its own timeline. you're the memory of a starburst saying i gave birth to humans at the tip of my finger.

and i think about how crocodiles have been around for way longer than that fingernail and how sharks have been here forever too and how there are sea cucumbers that understand time like an angel would; their ages so astronomically long that i get dizzy looking down into them. i think about my dog, and how i am so fantastically ancient to him (an impossible number, staggering) and how, at the same time, i can order my life in eras of pets-i-have-loved and how my childhood died when my cat did.

and i wonder if the earth does the same thing, if nature keeps time in epochs. if the tree in the house where i grew up said oh a new family and got upset when one by one we all left for college and left behind our climbing and screaming and birdhouses. that same tree collapsed during a bad storm this winter; heartbroken. the whole inside was a hull, shivering and empty. it missed our roof by a whisper, almost like it held itself together so it couldn't pass a hole into the house it's been looking into for years now. the people who took it away clicked their teeth. it was a hundred years old, at least.

there are things that went extinct in my lifetime. there are memories that don't extend to the tip of the finger. four years ago, for the first time: i saw a bald eagle in the wild. ever since they've been sprouting strangely in my life, their origami frames hunched in a racket of brown feathers. something in the motion of wild animals braced against the new england weather - like we all (all of nature, all of the fingertip) have the same shared hate when it's cold sorrow. like in years and years and years of history we never really evolved a better method than to close your eyes and brace yourself against it.

i saw a butterfly today, staggering drunkenly in the early spring air. it's too early for her other friends. i want to tuck her back into bed and say it's not your time yet! her life like a pinprick in my own. in butterfly school they'd have to stretch out their scales and say - at the end of your furthest wing is where you are in the life of a human. she is in my life, isn't she. something about how my heart seized at the sight of her, so brave and lonely and unfair; and how it snowed yesterday (and will snow again, probably), and how, in spite of that, she was out there and flying.

something about waking up this morning and thinking - i'm too old for this. how my hips and knees and back all make new noises. how the other day at a grocery store i picked up the gloves an older woman had dropped, how she'd laughed and thanked me - i can't bend down like you young folks anymore.

something about the theory that there's been no visible life on other planets because we are too early. that we are the first butterfly of spring. all this bravery. we know it is probably hopeless, and still we go. breathless, the same tactic - we brace against the cold.

[acapelladitty]

Trouble Like A Mugshot (1.5k)

Pairing: Lucy Maclean/Cooper Howard

Summary: After a long day of travelling the wastelands, Lucy is feeling horny and asks Cooper if he wants to have sex with her. A question which is much more complicated than she could have possibly known.

(A/N: I might turn this into a short series of moments showcasing the pairs developing relationship from this to hard nsfw if that's something folks would like to see.)

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Link to AO3

Lucy Maclean was no stranger to the difficult to ignore feelings which were pressing at her body. Fingers slightly trembling, breath coming in shorter bursts than she would admit to, eyes unable to pull themselves fully away from the lounging ghoul who reclined in his nearby bunk with a relaxed stance; cowboy hat tipped across his face as he feigned sleep.

Lucy Maclean knew herself enough to understand that her restlessness wasn't the radition sickness which had recently started to touch at her peripherals again. Nor was it the fact that it had been weeks since she'd had any time to herself that wasn't shadowed by either her ghoulish companion or some other entity.

Lucy Maclean was horny and she was never one to deny herself a simple, sneaky little indulgence when the mood took her.

"Hey, Cooper." She called, fingers rolling across her bare forearms as she sat with her back to the wall, legs crossed in a neat pile. "You awake and listening to me?"

"Hard not to with those foghorn vocals." A grumpy response, muffled by the hat rang back at her. "What are you yapping your flap about?

"Do you want to have sex?"

In their time together, Lucy had never witnessed Cooper doing anything that her vault lessons had taught her were sexual acts. He didn't touch himself around her, didn't disappear for some self-relief as the boys did, didn't make any kind of pass at her like some of the others had done before her husband had been selected. As far as she knew, maybe the ghoul didn't even feel the same things she did, and that realisation made her roll back on her question almost as quickly as she had asked it.

"I mean, if you can have sex that is. I don't know if your," Lucy paused, unsure how to describe her partners physical state without causing offence, "condition, makes it possible. I don't even know if you have the right parts for it but there's other ways of experiencing pleasure. We could use our mou-"

Cutting herself off as her babbling reach a new octave, Lucy watched as Cooper's body - his frame stock still since she had asked her initial question - finally stirred into action. A reddened hand slowly rose from its position by his hip until it reached the cowboy hat, plucking the leather from his face as he turned to look at his bunkmate and travelling companion with an indescribable expression; various emotions fluttering through his typically stoic face.

"I know your experiences with ghouls are limited, princess." Cooper spoke patiently, voice low as he fired the hated nickname at her, her vocal dislike of the new monkier making it a very quick favourite of his. "But the whole package is still intact so let's get that established before you go telling people falsehoods about my good person."

"Okay. Noted." Lucy held her hands up apologetically and her knees touched as she lounged against the concrete wall which was supporting her. "But you didn't answer me. Do you want to? Have sex, I mean? Last time i did was with my assigned husband and it was good enough, great even, but then he tried to kill me and it was this whole thing."

Mentally filing that information away for future use and subtle further investigation, Cooper lay back fully against his own cot and tilted his head closer in her direction, thankful for the dimness of their shared room as it shielded most of his features.

"As much as I'd love to bury my bone in a new patch of land, I don't think that's necessarily the best choice in terms of this little partnership we've stitched together."

Indicating his sewn finger, he wagged it at her dismissively as a discomforting sensation flooded his stomach, mild arousal at the thought of some tail mixing with something dangerous that set his teeth on edge.

"Why not? It's only sex."

Suddenly feeling older than he had any right to, Cooper fell silent as he mused on her question for a moment.

Lucy Maclean.

Eyes as big as a doe, that girl was built soft but he was lucky enough to see people for what they truly were and the steel which lurked beneath the painful optimism and naivety that shone free of her would make her a dangerous player if she ever truly entered the game. He felt the burden of his own cruelty at times, cornering her into making decisions that would cause her little vaultie friends to vomit if they knew the violence she enacted, but with every difficult choice came a fresh coating to that steel which would see her survive and thrive in the wastelands.

It's only sex.

In his life, Cooper Howard had enjoyed less sexual partners than many would believe. A sticky fumbling in the upper level of an old barn had been his first, the other party a sweet girl from a nearby ranch who was two years older and knew what she wanted from him. Pretty soon after that came Barb and as soon as he laid eyes on her he never saw anything past her.

War was terrible for the other men and many lost themselves in drink and the women who haunted the barracks and backlines looking for poor souls to feed on. But not him. Never him.

Not when he had to come home to Barb.

Even when married and at the height of his fame, when aspiring young things would throw themselves at him, their perfumes overpowered by the stink of wine and cigarettes, he had rebuffed them politely. He was loyal and he enjoyed the fruits of that loyalty as he held his wife in his arms and basked in the sweet sounds that she would make as they fucked. Hell, she had even given him a daughter and he loved her every day for it.

War never changes.

But he did.

And fuck him if his new appearance and designation as a Ghoul didn't screw him out of any chance of some stress relief as he wandered the wastelands. Might as well have been a fucking leper for all the tail which was now afforded to him and his leathery visage.

Not for Lucy Maclean though.

She, it seemed, didn't care about any of that.

"Did I say something wrong? The leaders explained all acts of intercourse to us so I know what I'm doing and I consent fully."

Lucy's voice, heated with an almost defensive lilt, broke into his musings and Cooper blinked at her as the hole that made up his nose flared while he inhaled deeply.

"I don't doubt that, darling. I've seen how you handle a pistol." Reverting to his typical sarcasm as he looked, truly looked, at her, Cooper sighed at the earnestness which oozed from her features. "But I'm gonna have to decline. Politely."

"Is it because of me? Did i do somethig wrong? I mean, my husband didn't seem to mind but then he was planning on killing me anyway so y'know?" Making a wild gesture with her fingers as she spoke, the casualness of her speech wasn't enough to mask the genuine insecurity which threaded through the questions.

"You're fine. Attractive little thing, even. I think any man would jump at the chance to have you wrapped around them like an old holster."

He wasn't lying- and he wasn't blind. She was a good looking young woman, her innocence flickering like the dull embers of a welcoming fire in the darkness of the wastelands. She was enthusiastic, eager, and damn pretty with those big eyes and curved figure which hid beneath the bulky clothes which she used for protection. More than once he'd caught himself glancing at her as she bent to snatch up things from the floor and the few times he did allow himself to fall into something like sleep featured breathy moans and the feeling of long, brunette strands brushing through his ungloved hands. Mouthy too so he knew she would be a vocal one - probably yowling like a hellcat.

It would be so easy to have her.

A simple yes and she would no doubt leap into action, shedding those clothes as quickly as did her weapons when trying to find peaceful solutions to violent problems. He would treat her right, everh inch the gentleman cowboy and no doubt much better than that shady husband she'd unwittingly fucked. He'd show her things with his fingers and mouth that would have her screaming loud enough to wake up all the devils in hell. Against the cot, against the wall and against whatever furniture she wanted, he could show her how a real man treats a woman as they both burned off some stress.

Feeling a very definite stirring in his groin, Cooper was quick to banish the dangerous thoughts.

"But a bad man like me shouldn't be allowed near a pretty little thing yourself. You're ready for a lot, Lucy Maclean, but you ain't ready for that."

Something almost like understanding passed through her gaze and Lucy nodded, instead exhaling deeply as she tapped the back of her head against the wall behind her.

"In that case, would you mind leaving for an hour so that I can masturbate, please?"

Cursing himself for the little shred of morality which plucked at his heart and refused to allow him to ruin this unknowing tease of a woman, Cooper dutifully rose to his feet and marched to the nearby door.

"You get half an hour." He grunted, barely tilting his head towards her as he stormed out into the nighttime air - determined to get far enough away that there was no chance that he would hear her and break his determined stance.

Besides, he might not be fucking her but as his cock pressed against his slacks, he wasn't masochistic enough to deny himself a similar pleasure and the distance would also give him some much needed alone time.

Goddamn Lucy Maclean.

Links to rest of the series:

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

[thetriumphantpanda]

sharing is caring | joel & tommy miller

Summary | If there was one thing no-one really prepared you for when you got pregnant, it was the increase in your sex drive. Six months in and you're more frustrated than ever that something just isn't scratching the itch. You know exactly how to fix it, turns out Tommy does too - if only you'd asked about this three months ago.

Warnings | Pregnancy sex, descriptions of a pregnant body, oral sex (f receiving), masterbation (m), Unprotected PiV sex (Even if you're pregnant, STDs exist folks), creampie, Tommy getting cucked because he loves it more than anything, Joel just being.... Joel.

Word Count | 2.9k

Authors Note | You didn't think Joel was just going to disappear did you? Of course he wasn't. I know that pregnancy sex and this whole trope isn't for everyone, but I hope that I've managed to do it in a way that is still sexy and hot and has you all still loving our little threesome! Big disclaimer that I've never been pregnant, so the accuracy of this might be.... off, please forgive me. We've got one more part after this and I still cannot believe how many of you are still here for this little story. I appreciate all the love you've given me on this so far and I just hope you love the way this ends (When I share it with you), as much as I do! As always, if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or popping into my ask with some love. If you'd like to support me by leaving a tip, you can do so here on my Ko-Fi (But as I always say, no pressure!)

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“Fuck, Tommy, holy shit.” 

Your head is thrown back on the pillow as your hips rock to meet his, your hand working hard to try and bring yourself as close to the edge as Tommy is right now. It’s been six months of a sex drive that’s been through the roof and six months of nothing working to satisfy that. Tommy had always been diligent lover, right from the very beginning, you’d always been satisfied, but there was something that just wasn’t working, and it had all begun when your stomach had started to swell. 

It had nothing to do with hating your body – if anything, seeing what it was doing, carrying a creating an entire other human, made you love it even more – you could spend hours running your hands over the swell of your stomach, even when your child would kick or move about and your skin would contort in ways you didn’t know possible, all you could do was watch in awe. No, it had nothing to do with that, and everything to do with the fact you were craving something,��someone, you probably shouldn’t. 

In the past month, though it killed you to admit it, you’d started faking your orgasms. Something you’d never had to do in your time with Tommy, but that was probably easier than coming clean about the fact that you wanted Joel. No. You needed him. The combination of these two men, in your mind, was the only thing you could think that would help – the eyes of your love on you as his brother fucked you into another dimension. But how the fuck do you even ask for that?

When all is said and done that evening, and Tommy is softly snoring behind you with his hands resting on your belly, you run through every possible way that you might ask him if he’ll let Joel join you again. It had been incredibly normal between the three of you – you’d fallen back into the relationships you’d had before this whole thing started – Joel seemingly nothing but the loving brother-in-law he’d always been, and two brothers who certainly hadn’t been sharing you between themselves. It was a relief, that you could all go back to your old roles, but you knew Joel wanted more. Every time you’d see him, you’d watch his eyes on your swelling stomach, eyes that would darken when they met your own, with nothing but wanting for you. You knew he would do anything for you, you just had to ask. 

“Can I ask you something?” You pluck up the courage one evening when Tommy is massaging your ankles to try and get the swelling to subside. 

“Course you can.” He comments, his eyes never leaving the sports coverage on the TV in front of him. 

“Promise you won’t get mad?” You’re biting at the corner of one of your nails, worried that you might just be about to ruin everything good you’ve ever had. 

You watch, puzzled, as a smirk appears on Tommy’s face, his hands still working to relieve the aches at your ankles, “What the hell are you smirking for?” You ask. 

“Just think I know what you’re gonna ask for, is all.” 

“Go on then, smartass,” You offer, “What am I going to ask for?” 

“You want Joel, right?” 

What the fuck? How the fuck did he know? Your shock and surprise that he knew exactly what was on your mind must show on your face because he’s chuckling. 

“You’re not mad?” You ask. 

“No sugar, I am not mad,” He smiles, “He did a big thing for us,” He pauses to put a hand on your belly, “I’d be dumb as rocks to think that after all this there wasn’t some kind of connection between you both and that’s okay,” He leans over and presses a soft kiss to your lips, “I know you love me, but if you need him to help then all you had to do was ask.” 

"I just feel guilty," You admit, "That we're doing this together," You rest a hand on your tummy where a foot has just kicked, "And I can't stop thinking about how good it feels when you're both there."

"You don't have to feel guilty," He reassures, "He's as much involved as you or I sugar, and it's okay to ask for what you want, I promise."

“I still want you to be there,” You speak softly, taking hold of his hand, “And you’re sure you’re okay with this?” 

“Don’t worry your pretty head about it, sweetheart,” He smiles, and you can tell it’s genuine, “Leave it with me and I’ll make sure you get what you want.” 

It doesn’t take long for Tommy to make good on his promise. Within the week, you’re led on your bed, trying to relieve the ache in your back for a little bit, when that familiar of knocks at the door rings through the house. You stay horizontal for a while, mind thinking back to all the times you’d done this before. This time you know it has nothing to do with being a means to an end, and everything about you being able to enjoy yourself, and that’s thrilling more than anything else. 

You push yourself up on your hands, leaning back on them slightly, when you can hear Tommy and Joel coming up the stairs. You’re dressed in your usual silk robe. The burgeoning bump in front of you means even if you tie it, it doesn’t fit properly anymore, so you’ve got the most unsexy pair of underwear on, the only stuff that fits right now, but when Joel makes his way through your bedroom door, left open this time, it doesn’t matter, he’s looking at you like you’re the loveliest thing he’s ever seen. 

Tommy is behind him, walking over to take his place on the chair in the corner, leaving you and Joel to have a moment to yourself, for now. Joel leans down and presses his usual chaste kiss to your cheek, pulling back to look down at you, looming over you as he traces your bottom lip with his thumb, just like he had the first night you’d been together. 

“You frustrated, darlin’ girl?” He asks, letting a smirk fall across his lips, “Thought you didn’t need me anymore, didn’t you?” You vehemently shake your head, no, you knew you needed him, and if you’d known Tommy would let you, you’d have asked months ago, “Don’t worry, pretty girl, I think together we can make you feel good.” He tilts his head to Tommy, sat behind you, but for once, your eyes are only on Joel. 

You reach your own hand up to cup his face, letting your fingers trace along the rough hair on his jaw, you want to tell him you’ve missed him, because you have, but instead you just settle for trying to finally get what you want. 

“You gonna spend all night looking at me?” You ask coyly, “Or are you going to eat my pussy?” 

“You drive a hard bargain.” He smirks, dropping to his knees, pulling at your ankles so you’re siting over the end of the bed, his hands coming to undo the tie of your robe, slipping it off to reveal your naked upper half to him. 

“Look what we did, pretty girl,” Joel whispers, big palms running over the swell of your stomach, “Look what we made together.” 

You’re overcome with emotion, tears pricking at your eyes, as his gentle hands trace the bump, mouth trailing just behind his hands as he worships his work, worships what he’s made you. As his fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear and pull them down, you feel the bed dip behind you. Tommy settles himself against your back, letting his legs rest on either side of your own, his lips starting to trail down your neck and across your shoulder as Joel spreads your legs. 

You can feel the breath from Joel’s mouth across the skin of your pussy, your hips bucking to try and meet his mouth. He brings your legs to rest over his broad shoulders, widening your spread legs before his mouth is on you. He’s doing what he always does, using his tongue to lap up at your slick hole first, and he’s groaning whilst he does it. He hasn’t had the taste of you on his mouth for six months, and even he’s surprised with how much he’s missed it. You lean yourself fully back into Tommy’s chest, as his hands come to cup the weight of your tits. They’re sensitive and sore, and he knows to be gentle, but he’s running his thumbs over your peaked nipples just enough that the pleasure outweighs the slight pain you feel. 

It's all inconsequential anyway once Joel trails his tongue up through your folds and over your clit. It’s like the trail of his tongue sets you on fire, lighting every single part of you alight as he touches you. You’re squirming against the pleasure of Tommy’s fingers at your chest, so much so that Joel has to grip the meat of your thighs to keep you steady as he trails the tip of his tongue over your clit in slow, languid movements, working you up slowly this time. 

With Tommy’s lips at your neck and his hands on your tits, and the slow but firm work of Joel’s tongue on your clit, you’re reaching your peak before you really know it’s happening. You can feel your thighs begin to shake and the way you’re grinding yourself into Joel’s face to chase the feeling of his mouth, you know you’re not going to last much longer. You reach down and run your fingers through his hair, anchoring his face to your aching cunt. 

“You gonna come for us baby?” Tommy breathes into your ear, “Go on, let go for us, I know you’ve been waiting.” 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” You breathe out with every breath you exhale, “I’m- oh my god-”

It hits you like a fucking freight train. Six months of pent-up tension released all at once as you actually scream Joel’s name out into the room. You can feel Tommy’s erection behind you, pressing into your lower back as you arch up into Joel’s mouth, his tongue working you through the aftershocks. 

He pulls his face away from your pussy, rubbing the slick onto your thigh as he presses soft kisses to the delicate skin there whilst you try and fill your lungs with air, trying not to cry at the relief you finally feel after all this time. 

��Wasn’t so hard, was it, pretty girl?” He speaks from between your thighs, finally pulling back enough that you can see those big, brown eyes, “Just needed a little extra help, didn’t you?” You’re too blissed out to care much right now at his teasing tone because he’s right. You did just need a little extra help. 

“You want him to fuck you, sugar?” Tommy asks into your ear. 

Joel stands, hands poised at his shirt buttons, waiting for your permission. You look him straight in the eye, legs spread, your wet cunt on full display for him, “I’d be disappointed if he didn’t.” 

Joel is slipping of his shirt in seconds, belt and jeans soon following. You can already see the bulge in the front of his underwear as Tommy moves from behind you. You move to grip his arm to get him to stay. 

“I’ll be right over here,” He soothes, pointing to the chair, “Just enjoy yourself, okay?” 

You turn your attention back to Joel, who is palming his cock through the thin material of his boxers, watching you as you shuffle back onto the bed. 

“What works for you, pretty girl?” He asks, letting his underwear drop to the floor as he crawls onto the mattress with you, “What makes you feel good?” 

He looms over you, settled between your thighs as he kisses at your neck. He wants you to be comfortable. He knows the positions you both favoured before are a dream now – there’s no way he would want to fold you in half, your legs on his shoulders, like he used to. You bring a hand to his chest, letting your fingers spread through the patchy hair that sits there. 

“Let me ride you?” You ask, almost shyly. 

“Whatever you want, babygirl.” 

Joel stretches out on the mattress and helps you to straddle his waist, holding your hands as you flounder a little to mount his body. He keeps you steady as you reach between the two of you to grab his cock, lining yourself up ready to sink down onto him. 

“I knew you’d be fuckin’ beautiful like this,” He groans as you slide down onto his cock, wet heat enveloping him as his hands rest on your stomach as you start grinding onto him, “Look at you,” He coos, “Puttin’ on a show for your man over there.” 

When you turn your head Tommy is exactly how he usually is, filthy grin plastered on his face, fisting his cock as he watches you take your pleasure from his brother. It makes you feel powerful as you rock your hips, feeling Joel’s cock work inside your pussy as he watches you. 

“It’s a fuckin’ great show too.” Tommy groans as he works himself in his hand. 

You bring your attention back to Joel, palms placed on his chest as you start fucking yourself on him. His hands are on your hips, but instead of the bruising grip they used to hold you in, now he’s softer, gentler with you as he guides your hips in movements that have you both moaning each other’s names. 

“Feels so good Joel,” You choke out, leaning as far forward as you can with your pregnant belly, trailing kisses along his jaw, “Missed this.” 

When you finally lean back, hands on Joel’s knee’s which he’s brought up to rest behind you, feet planted on the bed so he can finally start thrusting up into your aching cunt, you know it won’t be long until you’re seeing stars again. Joel brings his hand to your pussy, thumb rubbing tight circles across your clit. 

“Missed you too, pretty girl,” He groans, hips faltering as he thrusts up into you, he’s close too, “Missed feeling this pretty pussy clench around me when you’re gonna come for me.” 

“Don’t stop,” You breathe, “I’m so fucking close Joel.” 

He does exactly what you ask, keeps a steady rhythm of thrusts into your pussy, his hand working at your clit. You take a moment to look at Tommy, who gives you a wink as you watch him, eyes on him as he comes, covering his lower belly and his hand with his spend as he continues to watch you. 

“Come on, pretty girl,” Joel growls, bringing your attention back down to him, “Come for me.” 

You can feel the walls of your tight heat fluttering around his cock as you start to come around him. You hold yourself up with your hands on his knees as your vision blurs and pleasure spools its way across your body. You’re crying out his name as you feel him still inside you, the warmth of his spend seeping into you as he groans your name. Filling you right to the brim like he’d always done before, gripping your hips to keep you in place as your walls continued to flutter around him through your aftershocks. 

Once he’s sure you’re both finished, Joel helps you to lie down on the bed, pulling you off him and settling you on your back. You can hear Tommy at the other side of the room, doing his jeans up before he’s padding out of the room and down the stairs. 

“Are you alright?” Joel asks, lips close to your ear as he lets himself take a moment alone with you, hand resting on your stomach as the baby inside you wriggles around. 

“I’m fine,” You sigh, turning to look at him, he’s so close, his hand warm and protective on your swollen belly, “Thank you.” 

“None of that, pretty girl,” He can see the tears forming in your eyes, he takes your chin in his fingers, tilting your face just enough to press the softest kiss to your lips, “No more tears.” 

You bring your hand to his face, pulling him back down for another kiss, soft and over far too quickly, pulling away just as Tommy starts back up the stairs. By the time he’s in the room with a glass of water and the tablets you were taking to keep your heartburn at bay, Joel is already pulling on his clothes. You’re standing up, aiming to pick your robe up from the floor, but Joel beats you to it – handing you the silk material before bending to pick up his shirt. 

When he’s dressed, it’s the same as always, you both press kisses to each other’s cheeks and say goodbye. Tommy walks him downstairs, and you can hear them talking a little as you head to the bathroom. If there’s one thing you weren’t risking, it was a UTI whilst pregnant. As you’re washing your hands you can hear the front door close, and the sound of Tommy’s footsteps back on the stairs. 

You meet him outside the bedroom door, shedding his clothes as you do the same. It takes you a while to find a position you’re comfortable enough in to consider sleeping – led on your back with Tommy’s hand firmly on your stomach as is had been since the very beginning, his head on the pillow next to yours. 

“Thank you,” You say into the darkness, “For trusting us.” 

Tommy takes a moment before he replies, “I know he makes you happy,” He kisses your cheek, “All I ever want is for you to be happy.” 

[azu1as]

Hi, Tin! I love your writing and I have a prompt for you, if you are interested) what if Tang family is too afraid of Tang Bo leaving permanently and eloping with Cheong Myeong? So they initiate marriage negotiations with Mount Hua. It can be angst (CM is socially isolated and insecure about his position) or romantic comedy (awkward situations and protective Cheong Mun), up to you). Thank you in advance!

It was a well-established fact that the Dark Saint of the Tang Family was one of their generation's best.

So it came as no surprise when an influx of marriage proposals flooded their family's estate—because rumors started flying around that the Dark Saint was in search of a partner.

The Dark Saint held a reputation for being cold and ruthless. To cultivators and martial artists, he was someone they feared making into an enemy due to his sheer battle prowess and poisonous abilities. To normal civilians, he was a genius who wielded the Tang Family's techniques with cool precision and intent; to them, he was just another mysterious cultivator that they would only ever know of through gossip and stories.

However, in recent years, something shifted. His reputation among common folk was slowly altered. It started off with a supposed battle between him and the Plum Blossom Sword Saint which turned into a sudden and unexpected friendship.

Whereas in the past the Dark Saint would only go around Sichuan and closeby villages, he was now found going around different major cities and unknown ones.

He was often in the company of Mount Hua's Plum Blossom Sword Saint, who worked with him side-by-side to eradicate groups from the Demonic Cult and the occasional bandits and thieves.

For supposed Taoists, the two visited different establishments to drink alcohol and talk cheerily. It was during one of these moments that the first rumor began its spark.

"Ahhhh," The Plum Blossom Sword Saint groans in satisfaction. "That sure hits the spot!"

The Dark Saint chuckles as he tosses back his own drink. "If only I could enjoy everyday like this. Alcohol really is the best."

"What would your future wife think?" The Plum Blossom Sword Saint jokingly and dramatically shakes his head in disappointment. "To have a husband who loves alcohol more than his own wife...!"

The Dark Saint wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Trust me, I would make sure that my wife knows full-well just how much I love them."

The two of them share a silent, private conversation with just their eyes alone, that none of the other restaurant's customers could decipher, before they leave a generous tip and went on their way.

It snowballs from there.

All of a sudden gossip went around about the Dark Saint's interest in finding a wife. And so several people came to the same conclusion.

The reason why the Dark Saint is travelling around more than usual is because he's looking for a prospective wife.

Clearly, the Plum Blossom Sword Saint was there to provide moral support. How truly admirable and strong their brotherhood must be!

On the other hand, the head of the Tang Family was fully aware of their Dark Saint's single-minded interest in Mount Hua's Chung Myung.

Seeing all the stacks of letters that ranged from proposing strategic alliances and general marriage offers brought the current head of the Tang Family to a very different conclusion.

Tang Bo was trying to slowly draw himself away from their family by leaving their estate. He might be on the hunt, jumping from village to village, trying to create a dowry befitting for the hand of the Plum Blossom Sword Saint and scouting out all the best locations to settle down in.

It really wouldn't be too surprising of an idea if one day a letter turns up from the man with an intent of permanently moving to Mount Hua or some backwater village.

The Tang Family head shakes the thought of losing one of their best and genius members to one of the Ten Great Sects. If he wanted to maintain their family's reputation, he'll need to strike the first move.

And so he begins to pen a decisive letter to the Sect Leader of Mount Hua.

%%%

Chung Mun's hands tremble as reads the letter sent to him by the Tang Family.

'Who did they think they were?' He would have bit out if he had any less self-restraint. The paper crumples in his grip and he receives a questioning glance from Chung Myung who was sprawled eating mooncakes on the opposite side of his desk.

"What's got you so worked up?" The subject of the letter askswithout a care.

Chung Mun takes a deep breath. "The Tang Family wishes for you to transfer into their estate."

He refuses to say out loud the marriage proposal that came along with this request. His Chung Myung was too young! The man might be a sixty years old, but that round face, cheeks carelessly bulging with mooncakes with crumbs littered on his chin, screamed too young for marriage!

"Oh." Chung Myung nods in understanding.

Chung Mun is glad that Chung Myung agrees that this was nonsensical. To think, they thought that Chung Myung would even leave Mount Hua for—

"After the war is over, Tang Bo and I were planning to be roommates and travel the world a bit."

—?????

"Roommates?" Chung Mun's voices comes out slightly strangled.

"Yup. It's going to be great."

"No."

"'No'?"

Chung Mun tries to run through his previous conversations with Tang Bo. He knew that the man was capable of being underhanded, but he was also well-aware that Tang Bo respected him enough to not blind-side him with something like this. Especially since it concerned Chung Myung.

...

...Oh no.

"Fuck." Chung Mun says, full of feeling as he recalls Tang Bo off-handedly asking permission to live together with Chung Myung in the future.

"...Sect Leader?"

Chung Mun had thought that was a joke! He thought Tang Bo wasn't being serious! They were talking with alcohol in their systems!

The alarmed look that crosses Chung Myung's face informed Chung Mun that the way he felt his blood drain from his face was a visible, physical reaction.

"He asked for your hand in marriage." Chung Mun says faintly. "I said yes."

Chung Myung blinked at him. "Yeah? He told me?"

Okay. Tang Bo, to his credit, hasn't been leaving Chung Myung in the dark at least.

If Chung Myung knows and isn't reacting violently that means that he isn't completely against this. Even if Chung Mun was, he had to reorganize his priorties.

And his number one would be to make sure Chung Myung was happy.

((And to make sure that the Tang Family doesn't think they can step on Chung Mun and pull his little brother away.))

"I'll have to recheck the sect's budget and my own savings to make sure we have enough for the wedding preparations..." Chung Mun mutters as he begins drafting a response to the Tang Family with what he thought were better marriage agreement conditions.

But then, a flash of dread causes Chung Mun to pause writing and leave a dark ink blot on the paper. He suspected, but he really wishes that he was wrong—!

"Huh?" Chung Myung gives Chung Mun a confused look. "We already got married though?"

[nyxcreate]

OCD caused by Non Dualism (“seeking”) tips+

So I’ll be honest, I don’t really make posts about Non dualism because I don’t feel like I’ve understood it the way other people did. They’ve seemed to find this permanent bliss, that I stayed seeking for, FOR MONTHS, (more than 7 months) and really just losing my mind. That non dual state of mind felt so good and I wanted it so bad! I’ve seen many tumblr asks with seekers and I’m sure there are many people who’ve just really understood it and resonated with it. I wanted to share my two cents on it, because I’m sure there other folks who could really use the advice instead of hearing “just NOTICE!!!”.

So please note, once again I won’t say anything bad about traditional non duality/Advaita Vedanta. I’m merely speaking from my own experience, my own struggles and how I’ve really sort of overcome it. And if you’ve found the NOTHINGNESS and CONSCIOUSNESS, all props to you! Keep scrolling this isn’t for you!

—————————————————————

One thing I’ve come to realize later on is how much the mind watching was actually damaging, and not natural at all! It felt like i was looking into something- all the time, feeling the contractions in my body, trying to get rid of it. Naming everything. Trying not to name everything, or label. Trying to notice more. Trying to notice there wasn’t any labels! Trying to notice who was the one doing the noticing. Trying to notice that there was no one noticing. Hell even trying not to TRY. Reading posts, watching videos, hoping something would click. I know how this sounds, but sometimes I’d get excited when I was reaching my breaking point of noticing; because that’s when the bliss would return. So much that you can’t take it anymore; and all that’s left is that pretty empty state of mind that just feels soooo good!

Your world is at your feet, everyone is treating you with kindness. You’re treating everyone with so much love. Life can’t get any better. Until you’re hit with the sudden realization “how do i maintain this, what if I start seeking again?” and there you are; your “me” has returned. But every time it gets easier, doesn’t it? And every time; even if it gets easier, you’re wishing you never found Non Duality in the first place. Now how do I get rid of the “me” again . . .

I’m very done with non dualism. Funny thing is, I don’t even disagree with the non dual “experience”; because it’s just so true. The core of emptiness is there! But honestly, I’m so done with the teachings.

I never thought I would be able to say that I was done with this philosophy. I really thought it would be there in the back of my mind FOREVER. Doing backflips and whatnot to feel the emptiness, the bliss. But enough about that …

I’ve stopped with traditional non duality where it says “keep noticing!” “who’s the one noticing?” “the noticer and the noticed it one!” and realized; as Tony Parsons and Jim Newman and even Non duality fun on youtube had taught me, there is no one doing the noticing. The “radical” non dualism that traditional non dualists seem to hate has been a lifesaver. The pretty state of mind that you are searching for, the search may be there but there is no one doing the searching. If there is no one doing the searching, then what’s happening? It is OBVIOUSLY happening. I am DEFINITELY searching.

No, there is no one doing the searching. It just is. No reason for it at all.

Anyways, while I encourage everyone to look into radical non dualism; or Tony Parson and Jim Newman’s ways of teachings, I’ve also moved on from their lessons. I’ve learned to tackle the OCD by not listening to the compulsions, by no longer looking into the mind. And yes take it step by step, because I know how difficult it seems to just not listen to the compulsions. that would be my advice for sure. Start looking into radical non dualism and recognize that the seeker is just not there. There is no “higher” state of consciousness. The divide that you see between the “me” and the “consciousness; bliss” state; there is no divide at all. It’s all just happening. Once that’s been established; go ahead and live your life. If needed, later look into how you can treat your OCD.

…and again, non dualism has provided amazing insights that I’m forever grateful for. :) The challenges are nothing in comparison to the knowledge gained.

[cyberstudious]

✨ 📖 ✏️ studyblr masterpost jam ✏️ 📖 ✨

📌 what is this?

this is a masterpost jam, like a game jam or a hackathon or a writing challenge, but for creating masterposts! the goal is to share knowledge and resources, as well as connect with other cool folks on tumblr! this challenge was born out of the studyblr community, but anyone who loves learning is welcome to participate. each day, share a masterpost following the prompts below and tag your posts with the hashtag #studyblrmasterpostjam so we can all reblog them and share the love <3

🗓️ when is this happening?

the main challenge will run August 12th through August 18th, although you're welcome to participate on your own timeline :)

✨ everyone is encouraged to participate in whatever way is comfortable!

you don't have to be an academic or a professional! tell us about your special interest, a favorite hobby or craft, or something else that you like learning about!

even if you're a beginner, you still have a valuable perspective that's worth sharing (and writing posts for this challenge is a great way to do some research and learn!).

you don't have to do all of the days or share posts on the "right" day! pick and choose your faves if you want, combine things, and take as long as you need to put them together.

you don't have to make super long posts! if you have a single resource or tip to share, please do and we will appreciate it all the same <3

if you don't want to write any posts, you can still participate by reading posts that other people make and reblogging them so we can all learn from each other!

please feel free to interpret the prompts below in your own way and expand upon them! there are so many different topics out there and the questions I've written probably don't make sense for some of them, so take what makes sense and use the rest as inspiration!

✏️ prompts

[monday, august 12th] an intro to your topic or field of study

how would you describe this topic to someone who has never heard of it? what careers are available? what professional organizations/conferences are big? what journals do academics publish in? what are the big questions, goals, or challenges? what are the sub-fields/sub-topics/areas of specialization? what are some resources for learning about the field itself?

2. [tuesday, august 13th] books

textbooks, fiction that relates to the field, inspiring memoirs, biographies, art books, graphic novels, audiobooks… anything that you think is relevant to your topic and helpful!

3. [wednesday, august 14th] free resources

online things! resources that you might be able to get from your library! and and all ways to learn/study/practice that don't require money - feel free to get creative here and come up with some cool ideas beyond just links to websites!

4. [thursday, august 15th] notable figures

who has made important contributions to the field? is there anyone who made big contributions in the past that are now outdated or incorrect? who has done great things but been overlooked because of racism/sexism/ableism/etc.? who is making interesting contributions today? is there anyone in the field that you look up to? this is a great time to do some research if you don't already have some notable figures in mind!

5. [friday, august 16th] study tips

what are your favorite tips and ways to study this topic? are there lots of things you need to memorize or tricky concepts that are hard to understand at first? is there a skill that requires lots of practice? tell us about it and how you approach it!

6. [saturday, august 17th] tools of the trade

do you work with software? lab equipment? art supplies? your favorite pen and notebook? certain analysis frameworks or processes? tell us about them!

7. [sunday, august 18th] beginner's guide

what resources were most helpful when you were a beginner? what are the important concepts/techniques to start with? are there any prerequisite skills? also, include links to your previous masterposts!

remember to tag your posts with #studyblrmasterpostjam! if you want to participate, feel free to reblog this to spread the word. I'll see y'all on August 12th for the first masterpost!

[stuckysbike]

His Prize part 3/3

A/n: All mistakes are my own. Written on my phone.

Bucky x Reader

AU: Bucky takes you on honeymoon.

Warnings: author overindulged in their own travel fantasy, p in v sex, Bucky is a sexy menace, happy ending. This is just sex folks, if you’re under 18 please don’t read!

———

“-and we just decided that we’ve been engaged long enough and want to get married.” Bucky finished.

The office in the courthouse was small but the harassed guy behind the desk recognised Bucky and his grumpy demeanour brightened right up after he explained he’d won the office betting pool after Bucky’s last fight.

“How long have you been engaged?” The clerk behind the desk asked as he noted your names into his system.

“About fourteen hours.”

You bit your lip to keep a giggle inside. The clerks eyes flew over both of you then back to his documents.

“We’ve been friends for years,” you added, concerned he would think you were a gold digger or an obsessed fan. “Been idiots in love just as long.”

Bucky squeezed your fingers and you smiled up at him. He couldn’t resist pecking a kiss to the tip of your nose. His eyes were shining bright and he looked relaxed and carefree. And happy.

Four hours later you were on a plane to Paris. Being your best friend you had always shared your dreams and quirky obsessions with Bucky. He had listened to your crazy ramblings, what’s more he was taking you on the trip of a lifetime. You didn’t think it was possible to love him more but he proved you wrong with his travel plans for the next three weeks.

The cabin lights were dimmed, seats reclined and Bucky was already asleep. You held his hand as you followed him into the land of nod.

—————

“Buck- James,” you breathed.

You felt chocked up, and tears threatened to spill.

“You okay Sugarplum?” Bucky pulled you into his side.

“I can’t,” you squeezed your eyes closed, but when you opened them, the view hadn’t changed.

The train sat idle but boarding. The rich blue carriages were elegant and you could feel the history and magic as you gazed at them as they hummed, awaiting their passengers.

“Welcome to the Orient Express my love,” Bucky sounded smug. You couldn’t even be angry at his cocky attitude all you wanted to do was kiss him. “We’re priority boarding, we’re in the Grand Suite.”

“Bucky,” you chocked out and he hugged you close and kissed your head.

“Come on Sugarplum, let’s get onboard,” he said pulling you along behind him.

The Orient Express was everything you had imagined. Your suite was perfect, compact yet elegant and not cramped. Crisp white linens covered the bed, and a small table complete with comfortable seats was placed a few feet away. The bathroom was neat with everything you needed and just enough room to move.

“Welcome Mr and Mrs Barnes,” your private butler said bowing at the waist. “Anything you need at all, just call.”

“Bucky,” you sighed looking up at him. He pulled you into his chest and dropped his lips to yours. You kissed him back, melting into his strength and sliding your arms around his neck.

“You know,” Bucky said pulling away, “I’m the happiest guy alive right now.”

“Oh yeah?” You asked.

“Got my best girl here in my arms, got a wonderful trip planned, got the world at my fingertips,” Bucky rested his forehead on yours. “I’m so in love with you.”

“Oh Buck, I love you so much.”

Bucky had showered and changed for dinner and had headed off to the bar for a drink whilst you took your time pampering yourself. By the time he returned you were putting the finishing touches to your makeup.

You stood as he entered your suite and he gasped. “Wow,” he murmured. The dress hugged your curves and set off your eyes and the heels lifted you a little closer to his lips. “What a wife.”

You giggled and took his hand, letting him lead you to the dining car. It was as beautiful as the rest of the train with carefully laid tables and soft comfortable seats.

The food was divine, and Bucky spent the entire time flirting with you and being his usual charming self. His eyes barely left you, and his feet were tangled with yours the entire evening. By the time you finished your cheese board and wine you were buzzing comfortably.

As you stepped back into your suite your heart was thumping in your chest. Bucky’s wide hands cupped your waist and he pulled you close, swaying on the spot. You rested your cheek on his chest and sank into him, letting him lead.

Bucky’s chin was resting on your temple, and as he pulled back his breath was warm on your skin. You glanced up at him, suddenly nervous. You had never been nervous with him before, not even your first time, but you were tonight.

“I want to make love to you Sugarplum,” Bucky growled. You could only nod, your voice lost.

His kiss was soft, but he rolled his tongue into your mouth seeking yours. You sighed against him as his hands travelled all over your waist and hips. You undressed each other slowly, and as Bucky got to your lace lingerie and stockings he groaned aloud.

“Fuck baby you look absolutely stunning,” he said as he eyed the plump swell of your breasts and your soft thighs. “I want to taste you.���

As you fell onto the thick duvet you bounced slightly but Bucky was over you, his mouth on your chest. He kissed his way down your body and hooked his fingers into your panties, trailing them over your legs.

“So goddamn wet,” Bucky moaned as he latched his mouth over your mound. He dragged his tongue through your slick folds then fluttered it against your swollen clit. Two thick fingers slid into your cunt and he sucked on your clit. You moaned as his pinky brushed your asshole.

Bucky wrapped his thick arms around your thighs and before you knew it he was on his back and you were hovering over his face. He pulled you down, his tongue pushing through your pussy to circle your clit. You cried out and buried your fingers in his hair.

You couldn’t take your eyes off his, and he didn’t look away, his eyes flicking over your body. You brought one hand to tug at your lace covered nipple, crying out as Bucky sucked harder on you. “I’m going to cum,” you warned him. Bucky doubled his efforts, the tip of his finger pressing into your back hole.

Your orgasm was intense, licking up your spine as you shuddered through it, and Bucky only stopped when you pushed his face away. He moved to kissing your thighs and even that had you jerking and tingling under his mouth.

You slumped to the side and Bucky followed you his mouth covering yours. You could taste yourself as you sucked his tongue, nipping the tip playfully. Bucky moaned and rested his weight on your body as you wrapped your legs around strong hips. You pushed your hands into his black briefs and Bucky rocked against you, his mouth not leaving yours.

“Babydoll, darlin’ please,” Bucky said as he kissed your cheeks. You squeezed his ass and nipped his throat as Bucky lined himself up. He pushed into you, his thick cock splitting you open.

“Oh,” You turned to find his lips. “Oh Bucky,” you threaded your fingers through his hair.

“Mrs Barnes,” he murmured, his lips curving into a smile. “My beautiful wife.” He used his thick arms to cage you in, them resting on either side of your head and you preened under his possessiveness.

You rocked together, his hips snapping into yours, a wide hand squeezing at your soft tits. He slipped his other hand behind you to remove your bra and soon his mouth was covering your nipple, teeth grazing the hard bud as you arched into his mouth.

You were startled when he moved suddenly, rolling into his back. Warm hands helped steady you and his thumbs grazed the tops of your stockings. “Ride me Mrs Barnes.”

You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you leaned in to kiss him, and then you sat up. Bucky tried to reach for your tits but you pushed his hands away.

“I’m going to give you a little show Mr Barnes,” you smirked. His lust filled eyes gave you confidence and you plucked at your nipples and squeezed your tits. The train rhythm helped you to rock on Bucky’s cock, and you matched the steady pace.

“Fuck Love, look at you, babydoll,” Bucky babbled. “Such a filthy wife I have.”

“You do have a filthy wife,” you promised him quirking an eyebrow and giving him your most salacious smirk. You slipped a hand behind you and let your fingertips graze his sensitive balls. Bucky cried out and bucked into you.

“You’re killing me darlin’,” Bucky huffed as you changed tactics, rolling your hips in figure eight shapes. You could feel your pleasure buzzing low in your tummy. You laced your fingers with Bucky’s and pushed his hands above his head. Your breasts were swaying in his face and his mouth was slack as he took you in. “I love you so much.”

You dropped close to kiss him and you felt that burn in your groin as your clit bumped his hard pubic bone. You came like that and Bucky wrapped his arms around you guiding you through it.

He flipped you, hooking a leg over his arm and a few pumps of his hips had him spilling inside you. The sensation triggered a further orgasm and you trembled underneath him.

“Sugarplum, baby I love you so much, I’m such an idiot,” he murmured.

“Shush,” you pushed at his shoulder. He rolled back taking you with him and then you eased yourself off him. “Wanna’ taste us Buck,” you said as you slithered down his body to clean his cock off.

Bucky watched you with wide eyes and you didn’t miss his cock twitching in your fingers. You giggled and pressed a kiss to his shaft.

“Come’ere darlin’, come kiss me,” Bucky said pulling you to him. You slid hands underneath his head and kissed his slow and deep, both of you moaning at the sensation.

Later, as you traced patterns on Bucky’s chest you felt more security in his arms than ever before. You fell asleep easily with the man you loved, with the man who loved you and dedicated his life to you.

[armoralor]

[TW: homophobia, threats of physical violence, SA, gun violence]

IMPORTANT: do not interact with the person mentioned below. please do not send hate or harass ANY of the accounts mentioned. the point of this post is to warn the community of a serious threat, not to dog pile or stir a hate mob. his accounts have been reported and local authorities have been made aware of his potential for harm. Last updated: 01/30/2024. New information begins close to the bottom, starting at the red text.

Some of you may already be familiar with the homophobic incel that was previously filling the Ahsoka & Sabine Wren tags with vile misogyny. He's gone by many names due to banning and deactivations: @sabezrastan01, @longlivetheemporer, @imperialloyalist01, @standorando, and @imperialsycophant. Here's the guy that gave us this classic:

Now, as meme worthy as that post was- it's unfortunately just the tip of the iceberg. Despite his exile from this social media site, he continues to be active on Instagram and TikTok. He also continues to get support from some of the same folks that have been painting sapphics and wolfwren shippers out as vicious bullies.

I didn't intend to find everything I did, but this man constantly comments under official Star Wars media posts calling queer women "degenerates" and "beasts," so it's been hard to miss. It honestly hurts to reread this shit again, but I want to warn anyone who 1) may interact with him without realizing he's a incel neo nazi 2) may be harmed by his continued harassment.

First thing to remember about him- he doesn't just complain about shipping, he has wished death and harm upon multiple people. On top of the two screenshots below, he also discussed wanting to put a bullet in Dave Filoni's head (the alt account was taken down before I thought to screenshot):

He wrote "these people need to be beaten" on a dozen anti-wolfwren posts before his most recent account was taken down. He has embraced the common anti-LGBTQIA+ rhetoric of queer people being pedophiles and rapists:

He repeatedly brings rape up unprompted, especially when talking to nonbinary folks and women:

Plus buys into the "woke agenda" causing queer relationships to happen in media:

You'll notice the irony of him "worrying" wolfwren shippers are going to threaten the actors, despite him previously threatening to kill Dave Filoni and beat wolfwren shippers. He seems to be projecting a lot of his own desires and wishes onto other people, which will become even more obvious further down this post.

Now, thankfully his last tumblr account was taken down for inciting violence, but as i mentioned before, it's hard to miss him on other platforms:

Out of morbid curiosity I clicked on his account, and it's unfortunately what you would expect for from an incel. His follower and following list is littered with white nationalists, militia groups, tactical gear stores, weapon vendors, alt-right religious orgs, and 4chan neo nazis.

Instagram Followers:

Instagram Following:

It's clean he's unhinged and a danger to those who don't share similar interests. He seems to make allowances for anyone who ships sabezra, but otherwise is a diehard supporter of alt-right Christian nationalist beliefs.

One of his previous account names on Instagram was @cajunminuteman, with a confederate flag as his pfp. In current alt right groups, a minuteman is a person who is ready to pick up a gun and fight on a minutes' notice, typically in a militia against the government. His previous account also followed a number of Christian Southern Nationalist accounts:

There are a number of shippers that continue to interact with this man. Most sabezra shippers I've chatted with are very sweet, some of you even share discord servers with me and have so much love for this fandom. I'm only asking those of you who choose to ignore this man's threats of violence to revaluate how far you are willing to go to support a fictional ship.

Wolfwren shippers have bore the brunt of fandom hate and harassment since Ahsoka started airing. We continue to get called degenerates, rapists, pedophiles, and threatened with physical violence. This is not the same, or in any way equivalent, to silly jokes made about fictional ships being made canon. It's exhausting to get constant harassment in real life AND online.

Are there mean wolfwren shippers? Absolutely. I'm sorry queer people sometimes cheer on cishet ships not becoming canon, I know it sucks when it's over something you like. No, enjoying cishet ships doesn't make you any less queer, and I'm sorry there was an asshole out there that said that shit. But can we PLEASE stop acting like sapphics and wolfwren enjoyers are ALWAYS bullies? That we're somehow always the ones threatening people? It plays into the alt-right rhetoric of the LGBTQIA+ community being predators and I'm so sick of it, especially when there is so much outright vile hate for queers.

If there are any wolfwrens sending hate and/or threats, I am begging for an example or name so they can be reported properly. None of us condone any of the nasty shit that's been sent, we deal with enough hate irl. This man's closest friends aren't much better, joking about wanting to hurt wolfwren shippers and how the LGBTQIA+ community is a bad thing:

The most recent return to tumblr was under account @imperialsycophant where he tried to pretend he wasn't the same incel loser:

He eventually went mask off, realizing that most people weren't foolded:

On January 24 2024, his most recent Instagram account (@imperialloyalist01) was taken down. Less than 24 hours later, a sabezra shipper DM'd me asking me to delete this post. I explained to the shipper that the point of this post was to warn the fandom as a whole of this guy's behaviour, and at multiple points I make it clear everyone should stay away + not engage any of the accounts involved.

Everything included in this thread is public information taken from public posts or public accounts. The shipper who DM'd me still demanded I remove this post, as it could "hurt their friends."

The context of who the incel associates himself with is helpful when conveying the severity & underlying motives of his actions. There are approximately two non alt-right/neo-nazi accounts in the following/follower lists I shared. Those who were following @imperialloyalist01 up until January 24th were both privately and publicly made aware they were following a person threatening harm against others, but they continued to like, comment, and follow the account. This does not mean any of them should be harassed or bothered. It simply provides additional context to the situation and will hopefully aid others in forming their own opinions on who they wish to befriend.

When I reminded the shipper who DM'd me that their friends were continuing to make jokes about hitting/hurting wolfwren shippers, AND tagging wolfwren in those edits, I did not get a response. However, what I did get was mass spam reported.

Shortly after I sent the above message and the sabezra shipper realized I would not be taking this post down, my account was hate reported and temporarily terminated. Tumblr has an automated feature that bans accounts immediately (out of safety) if they are reported by a large group of people at the same time (which is fair, say someone posts torture or something terrible). Thankfully, after I emailed the abuse support team and explained the situation, they reinstated my account:

I will not be sharing the name of the sabezra shippers who tried to take down my account. I already get harassed enough, and I don't want anyone to go through the same shit. Please remember that a small group of bad people do NOT represent an entire community. There are plenty of sweet sabezra shippers that do not support this kind of disgusting and hateful behaviour.

Key takeaways: don't send hate or threats. Let people have their fun online while they attempt to avoid the Horrors of real life. Please don't support people spewing vile hate JUST because they like the same fictional ships as you.

Other posts related to him: (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x)

[wolven91]

A Heated Bed - Chapter 1

[Trigger Warning; Dubious Consent. References to Depression / Isolation]

Matt sighed through his nose as he turned off his workstation and glanced up and out of the office window, into the transport sector where he worked on board the spinning station. From here, new arrivals and materials would be shuttled off to wherever they were needed aboard the station itself.

Another day done, just like the hundred that came before it and now he was just going to head home. Without a hint of uncertainty, he knew that his evening would follow the same pattern as all the others. He thought getting a job out in the stars would be exciting! He'd be like Kirk or Mal or something!

But no. He was just a clerk.

He was still just 'Matt' and as it turns out, the rest of the alien folk up here, tend to give humans a wide berth. Thanks to everything that had happened, humans were well known now as the 'rare' ones and had a multitude of rules and regulations surrounding them. The aliens couldn't even get a selfie with a human without some serious thought first thanks to the worry that something in the background would tip off 'would-be' kidnappers. Not only that, but thanks to his inherent 'value', the various governments enforced the requirement that humans scattered themselves out. No one station could have too many humans or they'd become too juicy of a target. The station Matt was on was actually, fairly 'near' to the Sol system, at least on a galactic scale. He was on the 'southern' most edge of Galactic Community territory.

So here Matt stood on his own, completely ignored. Oh sure, everyone apparently loved humans, but right now? Nobody wanted to get too close in case they got into trouble by overstepping some hastily thrown together rule with little to no thought behind it. It seemed no-one really knew what to actually do about humans, so ignoring them was the safest choice and the administration would deal with whatever issue popped up.

Matt considered that it had been just short of four months since he'd last stood on a planet as he leant against one of the railings exiting the office in which he worked. He was in no rush, so stopped to watch the 'world' go by. Despite him being high up, it was louder out here, claxons and alarms whooped and alerted staff of moving machinery in the distance. The transport sector of the station was a huge, cavernous and very busy space, it could have fit the statue of liberty and the torch would barely scratch the roof. As it was, most of the walls were dominated by airlocks and maintenance bays, pulling ships in to be disembarked or their payloads removed within the safety of the station, but the centre of the zone was administration and various storage bays for materials.

Far above, tram stations ferried passengers at high speeds around the circular station, disappearing into the massive bulkhead walls that separated the sectors. One such tram silently whizzed past as some of Matt's colleagues exited the office space and headed towards the lift.

"Did you hear?" Matt overheard as they walked past.

"There's a new species joining the station! They just arrived, let's get down there quickly!" Burbled a sluggat, while the young male taurian trotted along beside them.

"They're not new, they just didn't leave their territory very often until now. It's like someone lit a fire under every single one of them or something?" The youngster said. The taurians were an odd bunch, the males seemed to gracefully glide along despite having hooves beneath the flowing silk dress.

What they were discussing however, perked the human's curiosity. The various races that he'd seen so far were all as unique as they could possibly be and aside from sharing the odd trait, most were a sight to behold when they first arrived. It was jarring to the human mind to see an alien; to understand and know that they were conscious behind the eyes and not human at all. Matt wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but he tried to take the many eccentricities of the various races in stride.

Walking to the lifts that would take him down to the station foyer, he found that seemingly everyone had the same idea. But at the sight of the walking bad luck charm that was Matt, the being closest to the lift's buttons started 'subtly' hitting it rapidly.

"Oh no, the doors are closing I don't understand what's happ-" The closed doors cut it off. Matt frowned but he wasn't surprised. They were as subtle as a brick through a plate glass window.

By the time Matt made it down to the new arrivals building, he had long since lost his passion for seeing the new race and was wondering why he was even still heading in this direction. He walked over to the main balcony and looked over to the entrance to the station from the docks and saw the usual traffic one expected, not the heaving mass of new arrivals.

He sighed and leaned down to rest his chin on the side of his fist that rested against the rail in dejection. He didn't really feel sad anymore, he just wanted to talk with someone... no... not even that... just to feel physical touch again, that would be enough. He closed his eyes and made a hopeless wish.

"Excuse me." Said a calm, smooth voice from behind and above him.

He flinched, clanking his head off the higher railings that protected the taller races from falling and straightened up to turn around, rubbing his head. He hadn't heard anyone approach; ssypno slither, taurians clop and ursidians shake the ground, who could sneak up on him so well?

Turning around he was left staring at the fluffy midriff of an alien, so he tilted his head back and kept tilting.

Eventually making eye contact with the owner of said midriff, it had heavily lidded, bright green eyes that regarded him in an aloof manner and yet there was a vague interest there, like it had seen him from a favoured seat and couldn't decide whether to get up to come to him or remain seated.

She, he assumed based on her rich voice, was tall, at least eight feet and wider than himself as well. The thick long fur that covered her from the top of her pointed ears to the tips of her large paws reminded him of a snow leopard. She sported greys, blacks and whites, giving her a very unique appearance. The other aspect he saw was that she was muscled; this couldn't be someone who did nothing all day, this was a dangerous person even without the obsidian claws that protruded slightly from the tips of her hands and feet. One of said paws with tapping the claw against her chin as she considered him.

"Er, hello? Are you one of the new arrivals?" Matt asked, aware he'd never seen one of these things before.

"Mm, yes... Hold still please." She said absently, not ignoring him, but like she was thinking about something more important while interacting with him. She stepped forward, closer to him, crowding him, it was a far cry from his usual environment of having an oasis of space in the crowds, he stood his ground. A strong arm reached out and, nearly touched his face, but paused a hair's breadth away, she smelt of something like citrus.

"Are you an ill taurian?" her cool voice asked, hand still somewhat hovering close by. Matt could feel the tiny hairs on his skin sensing her proximity.

"Ah, no. I'm a human, I'm afraid this is normal."

"Good." She decided cryptically before turning and stalking away, a long thick tail trailing behind, briefly brushing under Matt's chin before leaving the human confused, bemused and alone once more.

=== 0 ===

Sometime later it was late, and Matt found himself back in the residential district and on his floor, nearing his room. His quarters were sequestered away from others, practically having an entire habitation block to himself. Once more, it was easier to just isolate the vulnerable human than have him potentially interact with others.

His interaction with the new alien however was replaying in his mind. It was one of the longest conversations he had had in over a month. He was disturbed however, as ever since that interaction, he had a vague sense of being watched or followed. Turning and looking over his shoulders, each time resulted in empty hallways and nothing out of the ordinary. Did he want to see her again? Did he want more than to 'just' see her?

"Yeah.." He vocally admitted glumly with a hint of guilt to himself.

He chalked the 'being followed' feeling up to his mind wanting to see someone, his brain had a brief taste of the 'good life' and now cried out for more. He got to his door and placing his forehead against it, unlocked it. He straightened up, smelt citrus again and opened the door with a confused expression as he wondered the scent.

"This will do." Said a familiar voice both behind and above him. Strong paw-like hands grasped his waist, effortlessly picked him up and, bodily turning him, he was pressed against the strange alien's wide hip as she ducked her head through his front door gracefully and entered his abode with him under her arm.

"W-what are you doing?!" Matt exclaimed, stunned into compliance, not considering that he should maybe flail about or resist in some fashion. He was stunned into limply going along with the strangeness of the situation. Was this a kidnapper!? Is this how it all worked!? Nobody had actually explained it all, they just said 'kidnappers'!

She, again, whilst responding to him, was focused on looking around his modest albeit basic home and stalking further in.

"There are no sunbeams on this station, and it is cold. You will assist, I am adopting you." She said as a matter of fact as she moved into his bedroom, her movements were so graceful that despite him being held horizontally against her hip, he wasn't jostled or shaken with her footsteps as she moved.

Walking up to his bed, rather than move around it, she merely took a step up onto it, walking into the centre before turning in place. The whole thing groaned under her and his weight. Next, she released him without warning, so he fell the short distance and bounced one, then twice onto his back with the fall. He blinked, still utterly shocked into confused stillness.

"Hmm, you're clumsy then. That is fine, I will work with you." She said while staring down at him from her seemingly mile up vantage point. From his perspective, her legs went on forever. Her arctic colourings were emphasized, but it was how she was looking AT him that caught his breath. She wasn't avoiding him, she wasn't ignoring him or even treating him like he was made from thin porcelain. He was the sole subject of her attention, she wanted to give him her attention and he had no clue what to do.

Before he could react further, she folded herself down onto his mattress and duvet. Laying on her side she effortlessly grabbed a hold of his hips and drew him into herself with one solid pull whilst he uttered a single squeak in surprise. Her strength moved him without so much as a grunt of effort by her.

He struggled for a moment, but the arm he was now laying on, curled around, bicep flexing against his cheek and held his opposite shoulder, the other arm draped over him and held against his chest, gently running fingers up and along his jawline, soothingly. A long fluffy leg entwined itself around his own and she curled in on herself, forcing him deeper into her 'hug'. The very thick and fluffy tail made a reappearance and settled, draped across him... almost protectively? He continued to try and half-heartedly pull away, but despite the strangeness; he was secretly... shamefully... enjoying it. Despite his wiggling, none of his actions could have actually broken her hold...

Tiring himself out however, he eventually recognised that he could feel the soft, thick pelt fully covering and pressing into his back and sides with ease, his head was tucked under her chin still resting against her arm while her chest fur framed his world with the ends of her pelt, surrounding his vision. He was warm, for the very first time in a long time, he was deliciously warm. The interloper was right, the station was cold, he'd just gotten used to it.

Laying still, whilst confused, and bewildered, he had to admit it was quite pleasant being held so firmly and protectively as a 'little spoon'. When the rumbling purr started behind his head and chest, it rolled through him like an old-fashioned massage chair. It was soothing and she offered no other words or statements as they settled. Catching his breath, the rhythmic rumbling gently unravelled the tensions that had built up in his back and neck. It was a few minutes later that he flinched awake, realising he was dropping off and he realised that this was completely mental!

She couldn't just 'adopt' him, right!? This was technically his home! It was the other way around, surely!

He took in a breath to start shouting, but the coiling loneliness inside his chest had him pause. It gripped at his heart, inspiring fear. Whilst his mind happily supplied the idea that protesting might ruin a good thing. It was an alien, right? A new one? Maybe they didn't understand this wasn't normal? Sluggats are strictly opposed to physical contact, even offering a handshake is tantamount to threatening one's life, so maybe she was just unaware?

Stifling a yarn, he came to the decision that he would have words with her in the morning. He could share his home for a weary traveller this once. She may be rude, but he'd be polite...

...yeah... that was it...

=== 0 ===

Many hours later, Matt had no desire to wake up.

He felt warm and calm, the bliss of a rare full night's sleep undisturbed was not something he had any desire in leaving any time soon. As his mind came back to the waking world however, he understood that he was laid on his front.

Matt smiled as he realised, he didn't need to go to work, it was the weekend. He couldn't recall any other pressing matters that needed his attention either. He was safe to relax and take things slow today, no need to leave such a comfy bed.

He rolled his shoulders to prepare to stretch when he noticed that his movement was severely limited.

In fact, he could barely move at all; something rather large and heavy was weighing down on him across every inch of his body and limbs. He could breathe, but it was like having several weighted blankets on top of him.

Opening his eyes, the first thing Matt took notice of was that he was pressed deeply into the mattress. He could see a curtain of grey and white fur bordering his vision from whatever was limply placed on his back. He was essentially spread eagle on top of the covers, but every inch of him was covered by something warm and soft. He moved his arm, sliding it across the bed and out from beneath the foreign arm that had been placed on top of his own, the larger of the two thudded against the mattress with the sudden loss of his limb beneath it.

A stirring from above and a low grumble, rumbled through his spine as whatever, or more to the point, whoever it was, woke up apparently due to him moving his arm so suddenly. The other occupant of the bed reached out to his hand, pushed their leather pad clad fingers through the spaces between his own fingers and gripped his hand, holding it still with a strength that prevented any more use of the limb. The worrying part was that the arm and hand weren't tense at all but held a strength that dwarfed the human's. The interloper's hand was nearly double the size of his, he could feel the pads warming the back of his palm. They were soft and almost hot to the touch.

Matt blinked in utter confusion as he tried to remember what was going on. After taking some time to calm himself and figure things out, he realised that the strange dream he had last night, was not a dream after all. The giant cat-like alien that had joined the station yesterday, had followed him home, physically picked him up, barged into his home and declared that she had 'adopted' him. Regardless of how well he had slept after so long buried beneath her, or how soft and warm her fur was, this was beyond what he could accept as proper behaviour. He needed to give her a stern talking to.

"Umph.." He started, catching a mouthful of fur and duvet, forcing him into shaking his head to clear it.

"Er... excuse me? Hello?" He stated in as demanding a tone as he could, bearing in mind he was still buried underneath the one he was trying to address, which undercut his authority somewhat. He didn't get a response, so he cleared his throat and again, he also tried to buck his hips, moving the body above him, but only barely as she was still a dead weight from above, her hips merely fell back down on him from behind.

"Excuse me!"

A groan was spoken directly into his ear.

"Mm. Go back to sleep. It's too early, little one." A drowsy voice spoke out, before the head on top of his lifted and he felt a broad, wet, and rough tongue lick the hair on the back of his head twice, before the weight returned and it pressed him back down into the mattress.

"What.. hey! No! Don't go back to sleep! What's going on here!" He exclaimed, again, trying to wiggle as much as he could with his limited movement, he had to get her awake and moving! In the end it appeared as if he was recreating 'the worm', the now long-lost dance move of the now destroyed Earth.

A deep and dramatic sigh of someone extremely displeased was given in response, before her almost 'noble' voice came back, far less sleepy this time.

"What is it? This is far too early 'human'." She asked from behind his ear.

"Who are you? Why are you in bed? What's going on?!" He asked in a tirade of questions that tumbled out from him.

Another exasperated sigh came from the creature, before her hands released his, she curled her arms around his chest, a leg looped behind his knee and she rolled in one movement, so she was on her back, her head against his pillows and he was dragged along for the ride. He ended up facing upwards, being held against her body with her underneath his back. A clawed hand snagged the duvet and pulled it over both of them, leaving the top of the thick cover, underneath Matt's chin. The hand landed on his head and began to draw a set of claws gently through his hair, ever so slightly scratching at his scalp.

Overall, it felt quite pleasant, the low rumbling purr returned as it rolled over his body. At least she was awake, so far, his attempt to establish dominance over the situation was going well.

"I am Her Highness Varuna; you may call me 'your majesty'. We are here because we were both tired and due sleep, we are still tired I will remind you. As for what's going on, I am being rudely awakened and you are asking questions."

"I meant... highness? No, I meant why are you in my home? What did you mean by 'adopting' me?"

A rumble.

"Ah, you were able to provide appropriate warmth and I am adopting you because you do not currently live with another felinoid. Now my turn my human. What is your name and how many humans are there on this station?"

Matt's eyes briefly rolled up in his head as she continued to run her fingers through his hair, scratching and clawing at his scalp. She would draw her hand through one way, then brush back with the curve of her claws, rather than the points. Goosebumps crawled up and down his arms. He supressed a shiver, but she still gave a single mirthful 'humph' as his body quivered.

"I'm Matt... and none. Just me."

A dissatisfied huff came from above as her hand stopped to grip his head in her oversized paws gently.

"Urgh.. There is not enough. The rumours that you humans were rare has been understated. This is both good and bad it seems. You humans are perfect, and I do not wish to share." She growled to herself, before she relaxed and continued her attention.

"Share? Like with the rest of your kind? I thought you were a queen or highness or something?" Matt asked confused as to why someone of her position would be in his room and would even need to consider 'sharing' whatever that meant.

"A-a-and you can't just 'share' me! What if I don't consent? I-I-I could have you kicked off the station for breaking into my home!"

She sighed, a brushed the back of her furred fingers against his cheek.

"I am sorry if I have offended, if I have distressed or hurt... I apologise..."

"It's fine." Matt parroted automatically before admonishing himself. He was meant to be angry! He was supposed to be angry! As a severe introvert though... even back on Earth he had been adopted by those who were more outgoing than him.

"I have no interest in upsetting you, but my kind are very interested in your kind. You are supremely unique, and we are a race of those who seek out the unique."

"W-what do you mean? Am I being kidnapped?"

A flinch from below.

"No! Bleck! Not at all, freedom is above all things! Freedom of the self, freedom of the choice, freedom is ultimate and the only thing that must be demanded." She stated firmly seemingly repeating a mantra or oath. She pulled away from him for the first time to raise a single digit upwards to emphasise her points.

"If you... choose... not to have us around, then we will not be around. Our people... our... society... is about enjoying oneself, I believe 'hedonistic' might be the correct word, but poorly explains it. We no longer must toil, so why should we? If you want to; go, work and earn. If you don't? Relax and work on yourself. Freedom, above all."

"So.. where do I come in? How am I to be 'shared', this is what I'm confused about."

"Alongside Freedom, is experiences, the truly desired 'unbuyable' thing." To punctuate her next sentence, she started by tapping his nose with a soft leather pad on the end of her finger. "Humanity is new and rare. We sought you out to experience you. I would have settled for sight and smell, but then you spoke with me rather than ignore. You did not stop me when I reached out to touch you. Even last night, your home was easy to find as it smelt of you, so I waited. You did not protest my entry until we were already settled and even then... you did not say 'no'."

A joyful 'hm' came from behind his head.

"Your actions were half-hearted, so I believe you enjoyed last night. Am I wrong?"

"No..." Matt tilted his head in reluctant agreement, but that was pushing it to say the least. He'd need to teach them the do's and don'ts before they got into trouble. Still, he'd rather have a bit more control over his life than being 'told' what he was going to do.

"But! You can't just barge into someone's house and expect to be welcomed in, arms wide! This is weird!"

"You don't like this?" She asked, hurt bleeding into her tone and her hand moved away in hesitation, holding away from him as if to release him. The loneliness returned with a writhing behind his ribs, it felt like a snake retreating backwards, towards her.

"It's not... it's not that it doesn't feel good, but you have to.. to.. introduce yourself or something? Be invited in."

She was quiet for a time, her hand clasped his head again, but didn't move now, but it warmed his exposed flesh pleasantly.

"Strange, no wonder we kept to our own for so long. We expected to be welcomed and praised, but the reception so far has been.. underwhelming. I suppose I could lower my expectations... 'Slum it' if you will? Would you be able to teach me the social graces of your world?"

"Social g like you don't know how to interact like the rest of them? I mean, I'm still learning myself, but I guess I could?"

"Matt, was it? May I start again?"

"..sure?"

"Good morning warm human." She began, a jovial tone now adorning her voice, Matt couldn't help but snort and grin as he remained laying on top of her, chuckling against her.

"Good morning crazy cat lady. How are you?" he responded, playing the part.

"I am well! May we share heat, it is cold, and you are very warm?" She asked, starting her purring once again beneath him.

Matt rolled his eyes and relaxed somewhat. She seemed to mean well, if not a bit ditzy, not to mention she was quite one track minded.

It was going to be an 'interesting' few weeks attempting to educate his new 'student'.

=== 0 ===

"My name is Ruby." The felinoid answered him later on as he cooked.

Matt frowned as he leant over the stove, finishing up at getting the 'bacon' as crispy as he could. How he had ended up on cooking duty after being the 'bed' as well, he wasn't sure; but the large cat creature currently picking through his apartment behind him had wrangled this somehow. Still, he was glad to find that whilst pigs did not survive earth, there was something called a 'squidgit' that if their meat was prepared correctly, tasted very similar. Apparently, you could cook them every which way and they tasted different each time.

He scraped the 'bacon' strips onto a plate, next to the scrambled eggs on both plates. He had no idea where the eggs came from, however.

He looked behind him to see the green eyes with the black slits in the middle staring back at him. She had seated herself in the middle of his sofa with one leg crossed over the other, she rested her hands, fingers interlaced, in her lap.

"I like your eyes by the way..." He blurted out without thinking.

"Mm, thank you. I had them changed a few years ago, I got bored with my natural yellow colour."

"Changed?"

"Freedom, my dear Matt, freedom in everything. We felinoids will often change our appearance. Quite dramatically I will add. Our kind are adept at appearance adjustments."

With a nod and quick, nervous smile, he walked over and offered the plate. It wobbled slightly due to his nerves. He wasn't used to being under such scrutiny after months of being ostracised by the rest of the aliens aboard. Why did he care so much as to what this alien thought of him? He couldn't be smitten or anything, she was an alien. She accepted the plate with one hand, with an ever so slight smirk, tugging at the edge of her lips.

"Cutlery." Matt reminded himself, turning and moving back to the kitchen to retrieve somewhat clean utensils from the sink. He gave them a rapid but thorough wash and dried them in short order. When he moved back to the sofa with a knife and fork in hand, an empty plate was being held out for him to retrieved back.

His mind was confused for a moment; he'd given her a plate of food. Right? Had she'd just tipped the whole damn plate down her gullet?

"I should thank you, shouldn't I?" The artic felinoid stated, blinking slowly. "I'm very grateful, that breakfast was delicious." She finished as he plucked the empty, greasy plate from her hand.

"I-... sure, no worries?" He returned to the small kitchenette and retrieved his own plate. Whilst she claimed not to no what manners to employ, he hadn't actually 'taught' her anything yet, but she was now seemingly acutely aware of what social expectations were placed upon her.

Matt moved to sit down and considered that the last twelve hours had been very strange, he'd gone from pariah to the sole focus of an overbearing, but seemingly harmless 'felinoid'. They had been apparently part of The Galactic Community for hundreds of years like everyone else, but had kept mostly to themselves, until now of course. Ever since Humans appeared Walking back to the sofa, he took note of her white and grey fur; she looked exactly like one of the old snow leopards of earth, all the way down to the spots and thick fluffy tail and oversized paws. Her size was something of note, easily larger than him, her ears brushed the ceiling when she stood up straight.

Her strength was also of note, she was not slim. Her arms, whilst covered in a long thick pelt, that Matt knew was also incredibly soft thanks to last night, barely hid the bulging muscles beneath. She proved she had no issue picking up and carrying him like he weighed nothing.

When he stood next to the sofa, he realised that there simply wasn't any space for him to sit on the cushions of the seat. The size of her hips took up much of the space of his rather crappy, standard issue sofa and to try and sit down would have him perched half on top of her. With a shrug, he chose instead to perch on the sofa's arm.

Ruby, however, had different ideas.

Before he could perch and start on his light breakfast, a grey furred arm and dinner plate sized hand wrapped around his sternum.

"Wait! Wait, wait, wai-" He cried out, trying to prevent his breakfast from spilling as he was dragged from the arm, and into the centre of the sofa onto the larger creature's lap. Thankfully, he hadn't spilt anything.

"That was dangerous, I could have spilled!" He complained as he attempted to disengage, but with an arm locked around his waist, he found the act impossible while holding a plate with both hands, so he reached down with one. When a clawed hand plucked a strip of bacon from his plate, his priority changed immediately.

He lost one piece but defended the others by starting into his breakfast with no further delay. The large feline sat beneath and behind him chewed the stolen bacon slowly as she held onto him carefully. It was only once he started to relax that he noticed she was purring again.

"So, we have a problem that will need to be addressed today." Ruby stated calmly whilst Matt's mouth was full. It didn't stop him from 'mm'ing as a wordless question.

"Not with your mouth full, little one. But yes, my dema- err.. Request? Yes, my request from yesterday remains quite important. My people will begin spreading out amongst the stars. They will want to meet you humans, but... like myself... will not know your... er... protocol?" A hand landed on the top of his head and a set of claws poked through his hair. She started talking again as Matt swallowed the last of his eggs and settled into having the back of his head scratched.

"We wish to make the best first impression and avoid upsetting your kind. We can compensate you and others if you agree to assist us in learning your ways. I wish to 'employ' you as a cultural guide? Would you like to come with me when I leave here?" She asked gently while still steadily scratching at him. He leaned forwards to put the plate down and was gently pulled back onto her whilst she laid back, horizontally across the sofa, taking him with her. She released her claws from his hair and instead hugged him from behind as if he were a cushion or favoured teddy.

The way he sank into her fluff, how he felt it cover his ears from behind and tickle his cheeks. It was incredibly pleasant and relaxing. He considered her words.

Did he want to just end his life here? To leave everything behind? What of his colleagues? Friends on the station? All for some random personal-space ignorant, socially inept space cats?

=== 0 ===

Half an hour later, Matt had his bags packed. Or rather; bag. Singular. He had little he needed to bring aside from a few sets of clothes and some mementos of sentiment. He had no friends on the station, he had a contact which treated him like a house plant rather than a person. His choice was made purely on the fact that his depression and apathy had been lifted all in one evening and he was petrified of it returning.

Was this a good idea? Probably not. Was it healthy? Also no. But he didn't have a good answer and he had nothing else to lose. His planet was dead, his people were scattered, and he was working a crappy job that a computer could do just to save up money to buy things for his domicile.

When Matt stepped out of his bedroom, Ruby was leaning against the front door with a foot raised against it and her arms crossed over her chest. She grinned like the cat that caught the canary.

"You're helping many of my kind, you know? Is noble."

"Let's not pretend I'm saving lives here, I'm a glorified heating mat." Matt said, stopping in front of the alien. She looked genuinely shocked, leaning down and lifting his chin with a finger.

"You are very important Matt; I am not ignorant to how you were when I met you. Alone and distant from the others? I am not blind to the lack of pictures of friends on this station in your home. The only ones you had, were in your bedroom and seem to be of family. Your journey to this apartment was one of an outcast." She pushed off the door and stepped close to him again, looking down at him with a firm expression that left Matt guessing what she might have been thinking.

"You have natural abilities and skills that somewhere else would be valuable. Here, you are out of step with your surroundings and seemingly... Left questioning your value, wrongly." She shook her head with a pitying look to her eye, yet her words were firm. She believed what she was saying.

She reached out, placed her long arms over his shoulders and pulled his back towards her. She gripped him against herself and held him there.

At first, he didn't understand what she was doing, again, her odd actions caused a jarring to his expectations. The outside world, however, was lost to him for a time, the fur of her torso muffled the air circulation humming and was replaced by the sound of her heart beating and her lungs breathing in and out steadily.

The lonely man's arms gingerly reached up and around the felinoid' s body, and he hugged her back for the first time. It was the first time he'd held someone away from Earth. It actually physically hurt his chest to apparently reconnect with someone, to consider reopening himself after protecting himself from isolation. After so long as being held at arm's length by others, he wanted to latch onto her like a lifeline.

He gripped at the fur at her back and breathed into the fluff that pressed into his face. Ruby placed one of her hands at the back of his head and stood there, she would not rush him nor prompt him to move. She was patient, she could wait for him until he was ready. It would be his choice, his freedom to do so. To her and her find, freedom was as vital as air and this human was not 'free' here on this station.

It was only a short hour later when Matt finally boarded the felinoid ship as it prepared to leave in search for more elusive humans.

They had barely been checked, the station administration seemingly rushing through Matt's paperwork. Matt had been pulled aside and been asked if he was being coerced, but in the end the administer let slip that he was glad Matt was leaving. He was too dangerous in the administrator's opinion. Matt had thought that there would be more effort in a supposed long-term resident demanding to leave, but it seemed his request to leave was received with gratitude and relief instead.

He felt like he should be betrayed, but he had to admit that he also felt relief and gratitude right back at them for being able to leave with such ease.

Whether The Galactic Community was informed of his change of location Matt didn't know, the ship was tracked and he would be met at the next station to ensure his safety in the void, but when he put his bag down and looked up, he found himself looking at a team of felinoids who, whilst were wildly different in appearance, each had a rapturous grin, one or two waved at him.

Suddenly his vision was blocked by the furred back of a snow leopard, Ruby.

Her tail flicked rapidly from one side to another, was she agitated?

"We have gained an ally. However, we must; be polite." Ruby stated clearly and definitively. She remained in front of Matt, until the group stalked away. Ruby turned back to Matt and picked up his bag with ease.

"They will need teaching but are harmless. You will need to be a teacher before we arrive at our next destination, I hope you are ready."

Matt watched as the group disappeared around a corner and the last tail trailed behind.

In all honesty, after spending multiple moths just pressing buttons on a computer, the human was ready for a new challenge.

=== 0 ===

Unfortunately, the new challenge began that evening.

The engines were probably several hundred meters away and behind many bulkheads, but the human could hear them, and Matt lay awake in his bed. It wasn't really the humming of the engines that was keeping the human awake, however.

The creeping doubt that plagued every decision in the dead of night had made itself known to him by 'midnight' aboard the felinoid ship. It was a frigate it seemed and just one of a small group of ships that travelled together.

His bedding was tangled around him as he stared up at the distant ceiling. He'd thrown his lot in with this new species while knowing precious little about them. God, why had he been so stupid?!

Was his life aboard the station been so bad that at the first offer from a complete and utter stranger of another possibility, he'd just jumped with both feet?!

He had to admit he wasn't happy aboard the station. His conscious mind agreed that he couldn't have stayed there much longer without him going crazy or doing something stupid. But no number of antidepressants would alleviate the crushing loneliness of being avoided by everyone else. Christ, they didn't even have antidepressants that were designed for humans up in the stars.

Sure, tell someone a drug's name; the materials might not even exist outside of Earth, let along share the same name.

But his subconscious continued to jab and peck at his choices. They didn't care about him. They just wanted to use him.

That's why he was given his own room alone. Alone again. He'd had one night of glorious sleep and now he couldn't pass out on his own.

Matt rubbed his face and let out a growl in frustration. He could argue the toss with himself all night but there was no way to prove that these giant bipedal cats actually had his best intentions in mind.

Till a thought occurred to him, it wasn't completely true, that there was no test.

Ruby, the snow leopard that had 'recruited' him onto the ship full of them. She had made a point to show him around the ship. She finished by introducing both his room and hers, which were near one another, almost directly neighbours.

'If you need me, day or night, my door will open for you. I will only be upset if I find out you didn't seek me out when in need.' It was the last thing she had said to him before disappearing down the corridor and away from his room. He stared after her, focusing on the swishing tail and ample rump beneath the grey and white dotted fur.

'Prove it.' His tired mind demanded now in the darkness. He'll always mistrust them if he didn't test their promises.

Without thinking, he sat up, and in naught but loose knee length nightwear, moved to his front door. It slid open without a noise and revealed low lights highlighting the corridor.

'Am I doing this?' He asked, doubting himself as he lingered in his doorway, torn between truth and familiarity.

He glanced back into his dark room. He wouldn't make any social faux par in there. He looked down the corridor, he could see her front door. He could be shunned horrifically if they didn't stand by their word...

His first step was the hardest. The other steps went by too quickly. He was lightheaded by the time he approached Ruby's door. His mind screamed not to, his subconscious promised to be good, just don't knock on the-

The door opened as if it was his own, he had no need to knock...

He stepped within, mimicking her from the day before. The room structure was no different from his own from what he could see in the gloom, despite different adornments.

"Hello? Ruby?" He whispered into the oppressive darkness barely a whisper. He took a few steps towards the bedroom, before realising what he was doing.

"I'm an idiot." He admonished himself, turning and intending to go back to his room.

A large paw on his shoulder caused him to jump and have his heart attempt to blast out of his chest.

"Don't say that please." Stated a shadow with Ruby's voice. "Are you okay?" She asked, turning him to 'face' her, another large broad paw found his other shoulder. He couldn't actually see anything, merely a silhouette of blocked light.

"Ah.. yeah, yeah, I'm... not sure why I'm here."

A low growl came from the shadow before she spoke again.

"Big changes dear Matt, freedom is imposing to those who haven't tasted it properly. You will doubt yourself, that is normal. But you chose a course and now you should commit until you know better. There is a cure for the voices this evening my Matt." She promised.

He gave a small smile into the dark, whilst he could not see her, to her it was as bright as day.

"What's the cure?"

"Come with me..." she said simply, turning but catching his hand in hers. Her digits with padded, furred, longer and thicker than his. Her hand or paw engulfed his own and marched him silently into the bedroom proper.

"Climb in, be careful." She requested as he felt for the edge of the bed and climbed aboard. Their beds were far larger and more luxurious, squishing significantly beneath him, certainly more than anything he'd enjoyed before. But when he felt Ruby climb in immediately after him, he was confused when a second set of hands from within the bed, grasped him down onto the mattress, rolled him so he was facing Ruby and a large body began to spoon him from behind.

Ruby was in front of him... Who was..?

Looking down at the thick arms that were curled around his chest and stomach, he deduced the fur to be pure black or some other similarly dark colour.

"That is Onyx, my current lover, they will help me keep the doubts away..." Said Ruby as she pressed up to his front and wrapped her own arms over both of the other occupants of the bed.

His back was pressed into devilishly soft fur, while Ruby's longer fur and chest pressed into his front. Her head rested almost touching his forehead, while he could feel warm breath gently washing over the back of his neck in time with the moving chest touching his back.

A rumbling growl and yawn came from behind his ear.

"Doubts?" a male voice asked from behind his ear.

"He has doubts hunting him. True freedom is new for him." Stated Ruby, speaking over his head as she settled.

Matt felt a rough tongue gently run up at the back of his neck once.

"It's okay... we're here. You're not alone... You are safe." rumbled the gravelly voice.

Likewise, Ruby gave a loving lick to his forehead, before rubbing her cheek over his face. First one cheek, then the other as the pair of aliens began to purr loudly, whilst Onyx nuzzled into the back of his neck. If he didn't know better, Matt would have worried about an earthquake, but now, just two larger-than-a-human cats, both purring while whispering sweet nothings and reassurances into the blighted man's ear.

Their limbs intertwined and while there was no blanket on the bed, every inch of his exposed flesh had at least some of the felinoid bodies and fur pressed against it. With the exception of his face, he wasn't exposed to the air.

Slept came surprisingly swiftly shortly after this to Matt. He rested obscenely well and woke the next morning feeling incredibly refreshed.

Getting out of bed however took several hours, not that anyone within that bed cared...

=== 0 ===

Links:

Discord / AO3 / Tip Jar

[grison-in-space]

Question about dog breeding/breeds, if you’re ok with answering:

I’m a would-be dog owner, never had one before, and I really want to get a companion dog from a breeder/group that is ethical and aims to produce healthy litters, but… I also understand that healthy litter =/= healthy gene pool, and it would be great to support breeding efforts that promote the welfare of the breed as a whole rather than the specific animals they sell. How the HECK do I identify breeders that promote ethical breeding for both healthy animals and population diversity? (I live in Australia, not sure if that makes this harder to answer or not)

(I mean ideally I’d adopt a rescue but there are pros and cons to that and, as a newbie, I’m not going to take on an animal I can’t adequately care for. And also I can never find rescue dogs of the breeds that work for my lifestyle)

So I don't know Australia as well as some other folks (@farm-paws?), but I do know that the best way to figure this out is to find out where breeders are talking to one another and listen to the things they say. The second best thing to do is to just ask breeders producing dogs you like: how do you breed with an eye towards producing the dogs you want, and how do you breed with an eye towards making the whole breed better?

The thing about this question is that there's lots of ways to answer it, but how a breeder answers that question given your breed's context will help you figure out how much they're thinking about each. And it does mean thinking very clearly about things you value. Any person trying to achieve a goal with limited resources, which describes many passionate breeders, is going to have to make trade offs based on resource limits. Increase the genetic diversity of the population as a whole, or win big at a given sport?

Let me get you some examples under the cut.

Here are a couple of examples of what I think of as pretty nice kennels I would be happy to consider approaching for a dog, if they bred dogs of a type I currently want to own and I wanted another dog. (Some do, some don't, and I won't have space in the inn for several years yet anyway.) They are unfortunately American--without knowing your breed of choice it's hard to figure out how to navigate the Australian scene--but most of the tips should carry over okay. Because Dog Culture can sometimes be really black and white and mistake cultural markers for meaningful ethical distinctions, I'm going to try and share a wide range of perspectives, orientations, and viewpoints here from breeders who think about long term breed improvement.

Wayout ACDs: This post on the importance of collecting and storing semen from older, sometimes long dead dogs is a great green flag that this breeder thinks deeply about the long term future of the whole population--especially given her emphasis on these older dogs who might not have contributed heavily to the gene pool in their younger, living days. Collected semen from old dogs who aren't closely related to younger dogs can be a great way to help broaden and revitalize a larger population.

Border City Bullies, coming from a breed with a relatively low incidence of health testing and some big cultural variations, has a ton of resources available on how health testing works, what to do about it, and how to responsibly move forward even if a dog fails a test. The breeder here clearly feels very strongly about teaching and encouraging other American Bully breeders to start monitoring longer term health as a breeding goal and fostering a community of breeders who want to work with each other to make the dogs healthier. I love this approach. Especially when population bottlenecks are not a major problem but health monitoring is, building a better breed community is also a signal of someone who is thinking about their breed over the very long term.

Woodpont Beagles. I really like this breeder as an example of someone who keeps his dogs differently to mine, but who has firm standards for their comfort and care nevertheless. I also admire this breeder's ability to assess two "camps" in his breed that don't communicate much and do his best to take the best from each perspective. Finally I really like the emphasis on the successes and failures of breeders from the past: a good vision for the future often includes a deep knowledge about how we got to the present.

The Functional Dog Collective is probably a good place to check on, even if it's heavily North America based; my understanding/experience is that while there is certainly a lot of disagreement within the broader community of breeders, that's a spot where anyone with an interest in long term breeding for health in particular is going to pop up. The Institute for Canine Biology is another good place to look around for people in your breed of choice who are broadly interested in evidence-based approaches to more healthy breeding, too.

[ludinusdaleth]

Said this in the comment of my reblog of the "What are you missing" Ludinus post, but... .... Ludinus (He) doesn't want to give Lilliana up as the vessel... but he knows that taking/using Imogen will still cost him Lilliana... he knows he will lose her either way and he's conflicted in a way that makes him uncomfortable, this was all supposed to be easy.... but this mother and her daughter are causing him a frustrating level of turmoil and conflict.

i was about to comment on that! thank you for the meta on it. it's a view i share.

it's clear the one person ludinus still cares for, deeper than this abstract "protectiveness", is lili. matt said dominox showed him, among more secret things, all those he loved but sacrificed for the greater good. liliana is the last choice he would ever have to make. yet it gnaws at him. the simple solution is to use her child as the vessel, but he cant do that, because liliana did all of this for her daughter. she just wants to return to that simple farm life with her girl. if ludinus sacrificed imogen.... he'd lose liliana, as you said, in a different way. which would hurt him more? if he could get imogen on his side at least she & liliana would be at peace with the others reality. but imogen wont bend.

maybe he could get fearne, and will if he can (why i assume he tried to take her at the volcano), but she is a weak ruidisborn and a myriad of everything else, a mix too dangerous for risk in a plan that can only happen once. zathuda would no doubt try to take over the operation, which would go worse than lud's direction (and would put liliana in her lower class ruidisborn status under even WORSE, incredible abuse, when lud (even in his very warped abusive ways) elevates & reveres her. he doesnt want that to happen to her). and honestly, you can tell even in his annoyance & tyranny.... he does kind of like fearne. her playfulness clearly reminds him of jester. and he cant make imogen happy & healthy in a scenario where liliana & her live, by doing that.

ludinus is hypocritical, and cruel, and none of these women should have had to face him. but i think for all ludinus's lifetime he's never faced a conundrum so molded out of his own emotions and actual (if warped) care for folk. this is maybe the only time hes considered others on such a small scale, in the biggest part of his plan. and even now with that impossibly small wrinkle, i wonder what he'll do at the very tipping edge point of fate.

[get-caitjinxed]

Passed your page like 7 times bc I didn't know you changed your profile

Anyway came to ask what do you think the characters smell like? I'm trying to write and I suck with imagery/writing in general so you know trying to add to it. Smell is one of the senses I hadn't written but wtf does Caitlyn Kirramen smell like????? like flowers? Clean????? Bit of sweat???? I can't 😭

Also if you have writing tips you'd share please do 🙏

hehe sorry about that lol! i was getting tired of the other one, i'll try not to change it again 🙇‍♂️

this is the part where i have to admit that i'm terminally single and i don't have a great understanding of what other people smell like 😭 i don't think i'd even be good at describing how i smell? but in caitlyn's case i def think she would wear some kind of subtle perfume - nothing too extreme or too sweet, but just enough that you would be like "oh shit, she smells good". possibly smthn floral? 🤔 and then depending on the situation, you could go for some kind of fresh laundry smell bc i assume she keeps her uniform (and the rest of her clothes) as clean as possible. but also gunpowder! if she's been shooting, ofc. and if she's been running around in a fight, sure, sweat, maybe a little blood, etc. if you're going for the hextech rifle, i feel like i see a lot of people describe the scent from that as being a sort of ozone-y smell that lingers after a burst of energy

and if you're writing her with jinx, maybe she carries around a bit of residual grease/oil/paint/metallic smell 😏

my overall tip for this would probably be to go do some research on perfurmes ig? this is some advice i should also take myself. gotta become a real jeremy fragrance type

AS FOR OTHER WRITING TIPS... i'll just rapid fire off a few:

when you're writing dialogue, try saying it to yourself out loud if it feels weird. your own voice might not match the character you're writing, but this is mostly to check and see if it sounds natural at all (sometimes i will literally talk to myself out loud and do voices if i'm thinking up a scene)

don't be afraid to interrupt dialogue (even mid sentence) to describe what a character is doing as they speak (or even how another character is reacting to something)! em dashes and ellipses are your friends

if you've written out something and it's just not working, don't be afraid to delete several paragraphs and dial it back. there are so many times were i get balls deep into a scene and go "this is NOT it" and delete everything i just wrote

less of a writing tip and more for brainstorming: when i'm stuck and i can't think of where to take a story next, or how to write out a specific plot beat, i just go for a walk and listen to music! this has been my brainstorming process since i was like 10 years old lmao and it's always worked well for me. sometimes you gotta step away from the word document and do something else for a while

your writing is always better than you think it is! i will post stuff and be like "wow this is garbage" and then have folks come along and tell me it's the best thing they've ever seen. you are your own biggest critic, so try not to be too hard on yourself!

also to anyone who is newer to writing or just starting out, write whatever the fuck you want! actually this applies to any experienced writers as well. don't feel like you need to write fics for other people! 90% of what i write is extremely self-indulgent and the other 10% is for my friends bc i know they'll like it. if you try to pander to your audience, you'll just make yourself miserable and you won't enjoy what you're doing. i'm churning out so much fic bc i genuinely just love writing caitjinx 🥺 everything i do is for me first

[kaigarax]

Exactly As You Saw

Sero Hanta x Reader

Quote: "Fall in love with someone gentle." & "Fall in love with someone you can love."

Someone You Loved Featuring: The Hero

Sero Hanta wasn’t quite sure how he got here.

Well, that wasn’t entirely correct.

He remembers receiving your text. Asking him if he was free and if he was in town; and Sero, of course, could never turn you down. All you ever had to do was call his name and he’d come running.

But how he ended up at the wedding of perhaps one of the wealthiest men on earth Sero wasn’t too sure. Well, it was like he always said - best to live life as it comes to you instead of questioning why things aren’t the way you want.

Sero had thrown on whatever suit he’d found, though if he’d known just exactly who’s wedding he’d attend he likely would have dressed better. Or at least attempted to get his suit cleaned a week prior. But too little too late. Sure he may have looked a little on the shabbier side but he had what many other people didn’t.

He had you.

You chose a pretty outfit. Something light both in colour and style - likely both in an attempt to keep cool and blend into the background as you take photos. You said something, practically gushing, about how you thought the bride was just the most absolutely beautiful girl here earlier but Sero disagreed. Personally, he thought it had to have been you.

On another personal matter, Sero also thought that it was a little weird that he’d been invited to a wedding as plus one where you were working but he supposed you could always count on rich people to be abnormal.

You spent most of the wedding reception taking photos but Sero was sure you would eventually find your way back to the small table Sero and you shared in the back of the room. Unlike the other tables there were no nametags but there still were several chairs if people wanted to join them. So far, Sero had spent most of the night alone.

At least the music was good.

And the staff were nice.

Eventually, a short dirty blonde haired male ended up taking a seat next to Sero. They talked briefly before Sero finally realised that the man standing in front of him was The Chef. He looked different from the photos but Sero supposed that was normal. Without the lens of a camera most people looked different. Overall Sero thought he seemed like a good person. Soft spoken, thoughtful and polite. Not much more one could really ask for when speaking to strangers.

Finally, when you made your way back to your small corner of the room, a tall purple haired man trailing you like a puppy with a pout on his face. He acted as though you were the one dragging him alone despite the fact that he was the one clinging onto your sleeve. It was almost cute. Sero would’ve laughed if hadn’t recognized the man as the Pilot. Your most recent must and apparently admirer.

People like you always had admirers.

Sero would know.

“Ah, unrequited love,” you smiled wistfully, as you took a seat down at the table.

Sero’s heart did a little flutter. The same kind of flutter it always did when he was with you. The same kind of flutter he hated the most. Not because it was a bad thing, no something like this could never be bad, but because it was exactly as you said. Unrequited.

He wonders if you can hear his heart beating through his chest.

If your eyes are resting on him as the tips of his ears are tinted red.

The Pilot takes a seat beside you, frowning slightly, “who?”

You pointed over to the far side of the room where a group of young folk sat. All three men follow your gaze. Sero’s pretty sure they’re mostly teenagers; not just from the youthful look on their faces but the playful expressions as they throw teases and insults at one another. It’s enough to make his own heart ache for his days of youth.

Specifically, Sero notes, you point out a pink haired boy

“Who’s he in love with?” The Chef asks.

You smile playfully, “guess.”

Sero’s the first to ask, his voice coming out both smooth and curious, “the brown haired girl?”

Your eyes flash from Sero’s face to the group on the other side of the room before shaking your head. Sero finds he’s more disappointed than he thought he’d be. At first he thinks it might be because he got something wrong but that can’t be right. He used to answer questions wrong at school all the time.

Then maybe it has something to do with the fact of his pride. He has always considered himself a people person. Someone that notices the little things. He supposes that’s not so much the case now.

“The blonde girl?” The Chef suggested.

The Chef, like Sero, is met with a disappointing shake of the head.

“The girl,” the Pilot pauses for a brief moment, “with the golden eyes?”

Your own eyes seem to light up, “what makes you say that?”

The Pilot shrugs, “a gut feeling, I guess.”

You shake your head like a parent scolding a child, “I expected better of you, Mr. Airplane.”

Sero notes how you smile fondly when you say it. As if it’s an inside joke between the two of you. Makes him feel worlds away despite sitting beside you. He supposes you always did have a knack for being so… far away. If not the distance of a country away then at least a breadth. Forever so close yet so far.

The Chef clears his throat, “Mr. Airplane?”

The Pilot, unamused, rolls his eyes in response, “just a silly nickname.”

“It suits you~” Sero teases, “being the Pilot and all.”

“Ah yes,” you smile as if hearing it for the first time despite coming up with the nickname yourself, “the Pilot.”

“You’re such a brat, (Y/n).” The Pilot mumbles, hiding his face in his hands.

“At least I don’t rely on gut feelings to know when someone’s in love.” You tease back.

The Chef, sitting every so politely, swallows quietly, seeming to take your words deeply into consideration, “how do you know when someone’s in love, (Y/n)?”

“Well,” you begin, “I would recommend years of observation - as experience is the most sure way of figuring this kind of thing out - but I’ll give you guys the sparknotes.” Your calm expression turns into something more befitting to amusement, “to know if someone’s in love you just have to follow their gaze.”

“Why?” Sero asks.

“Because the gaze never lies.” You finished.

The gaze never lies?

Sero supposes he’s never thought about that much before - but it makes sense. People, when they’re in love (at least from Sero’s experience) like being around the person they love. Care about the opinions, wants and needs of that person they happen to be in love with so it only makes sense that that’s where their gaze would fall.

Sero’s eyes make their way over to you.

You’re fiddling around with the glass of water that had been set out for you earlier in the day looking almost like a petulant child. Sero has half a mind to poke your side playfully but refrains as you suddenly perk up, “do any of you plan on getting married?”

The Pilot is the first one to speak up, muttering a simple, “eventually.”

“Eventually?” You ask.

“Well, obviously whoever I get married to is going to have to be okay with being in the public light. Constantly being harassed by the paparazzi whether they’re famous or not just because they’re associated with me. I don’t plan on getting married until I’m ready to settle down in my acting career.” The Pilot declared.

Your eyes sparkle in amusement, “very mature of you.”

“Besides,” the Pilot continues, “actors and models are more popular when they’re single anyways.”

You laugh playfully, “and he drops the ball.”

Sero would’ve laughed alongside you if he either weren’t so polite or better acquainted with the Pilot. The Pilot’s expression is a funny one with his lips pursed and his eyes narrowed in on you. What really finishes the look though is the softness behind his glare. It’s a kind of look that you don’t often see in other individuals. Well, at least it’s the kind of look that Sero doesn't see very often.

“What about you, Viking Boy?” You ask, “you are the oldest of us four. You plan on getting hitched anytime soon?”

The Chef scratches the back of his neck sheepishly as his eyes linger on you, “I guess I never thought much about it.”

Sero wonders if that’s a lie though he isn’t quite too sure why. Perhaps it has something to do with that brief pause before answering? Or maybe it’s a gut feeling in his chest? Who knows? All that Sero can really think about at the moment is how pretty you look right now as you smile at the Chef. It’s a pretty kinda smile that Sero hasn’t seen on your face before. It sends his own heart throb pathetically.

“Any girl would be lucky to have you,” you smirk, “or guy, if that’s what you’re into.”

The chef blushes, “well I-”

Sero abruptly cuts the Chef off with a gentle pat on the back, “come on, Sweets, don’t tease him.”

Your playful gaze falls to him next, “and what about you, Cellophane?”

Cellophane. It’s been ages since you’ve last called him that. Ages since anyone’s called him that. His nickname back when he thought he was too cool for school. Well he was already out of school at that point but the statement still stands.

He swallows, attempting to play coy, despite already knowing the meaning behind your words, “what about me?”

“Any special someone in your life?”

“Na,” Sero smiles, “it’s a bachelor’s life for me.” The smile doesn't reach his eyes and Sero finds himself wondering if anyone notices. Finds himself wondering if you notice.

No.

You definitely notice if that sappy look you have on your face means anything. Which it usually does. It’s that look where your eyes narrow in on something and the corners of your lips tilt downwards. It’s something so subtle that most people wouldn’t notice it. Something so simple that most people disregard it.

“Well no shame,” you clear your throat, “not everyone in this world gets married.”

“What about you, Sweets?” Sero asks.

“Marriage,” you say the word as if tentatively tasting it for the first time, “what do you think?”

Yes, Sero thinks, you most definitely will get married. You’re too bright, too brilliant, too sweet to not get married. In fact, he’s surprised you haven’t already been swept off your feet by now but he supposes you have always prioritized your career over love. He feels as though he’s done the same. Sero thinks you’d probably be good at being married. That you’d be the kind of person to indulge in your spouse’s wants and needs. Bets you’d be such a pretty bride; sees you taking photos of you wedding guests rather than stopping to take photos of yourself. The idea would’ve been funny if it wasn’t so you.

Sero follows your gaze back to the group sequestered at the other side of the room. They’re laughing about one thing or another. Sero finds himself wondering if you’re thinking about asking one of them to be your next muse. Sero can’t really find anything in common between the different muses - he supposes that none of them are from the same industry? Oh, but didn’t you take photos of two different athletes?

He doesn't ponder on it for too long as the pink haired boy catches his attention.

There’s a soft look in the eyes of the pink haired boy. That despite him being the one telling a story to the rest of the group (evident through the way he moves his hands dramatically) he keeps his gaze pointed directly on the girl with the golden eyes.

The golden eyed girl sits politely and smiles softly, leaning back in her chair. She kind of reminds Sero of a girl he knew back when he was young.

Out of everyone else at the table the only other person that manages to catch Sero’s attention is an orange haired boy. He reminds Sero of himself with an aloof and playful personality. Has that playful look in his eyes.

“What makes you think he has an unrequited love, (Y/n)?” The Pilot asks.

“Don’t think, Mr. Airplane.” You say, “I know.”

Sero raises a brow, “oh, do you now?”

“Of course. I know people’s hearts.” You smile in a way that makes people’s hearts flutter, “why else would my works be so popular?”

Sero has to look away from you in an attempt to calm the erratic fluttering of his heart. To think, after all these years, you still manage to get his heart to act in such a dramatic way.

“Because you’re good at taking photos?” Suggest the Chef.

Anyone else would have said the suggestion teasingly - because of course it was the obvious answer. The candidness in the Chef’s voice though would suggest otherwise which is probably what prompts Sero to laugh, patting the Chef on the back, “I like you! You’re so straightforward! Not like this little missy here!”

The Chef blushes, “thanks I guess.”

“Hey!” You exclaimed.

Sero notes that the Pilot smiles softly at your reaction but his voice is teasing, “people like your photos because you pick such good looking muses.”

You take the tease in stride, smiling fondly with your eyes closed, “very true! The muses I pick have excellent hearts.”

Sero ignores the loud beating of his heart as he pulls your attention back to himself, “hey, you never answered the question, Sweets.”

“I haven’t, have I?”

“This is what you mean, ain’t it?” The Pilot says, nudging Sero playfully, “she hates answering questions directly.”

“Hey, you’re ganging up on me!”

Sero chuckles, “that’s because you make it too easy.”

“It’s okay, (Y/n),” the Chef says softly, “you don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to,” effectively directing the playful teasing towards himself.

Sero sighs playfully and dramatically, “you’re too easy on her.”

“A total simp.” The Pilot adds.

You roll your eyes in an attempt of feigning annoyance but Sero’s notices the hint of a smile, “the two of you could learn a thing or two from him.”

Sero laughs, patting your head, “doubt it, Sweets.”

You grab his hand, bringing it down into your own as you smile, “love is such a mysterious thing.”

Sero feels his face heat up dramatically.

Your hands are softer than he remembers.

Warm.

He clears his throat slightly, seeing that your gaze has moved from the group across the room to the centerpiece of the reception; the bride and groom.

They’re a handsome couple, the groom's eyes never wavering from his wife’s form as he drags her over to the centre of the room for their first dance of the night. Well it wasn’t their first dance but it’s the first dance they’re going to take now that everyone has finished their meals. Sero wonders if he’ll ever love someone as much as the groom seems to love his wife.

No, that’s a lie.

He doesn’t wonder.

The Chef pokes your side gently, “I thought you said that love was a well understood thing?”

Your frown ever so slightly, “I did?”

The Pilot nods, “yes.”

“You sure?”

Sero hums playfully, “very~”

“When?”

“During my exhibit.” Explained the Pilot.

“Oh, I guess I have.”

The Pilot leans in towards you, giving you a gentle flick on the head. Something reminiscent a parent would do when gently scolding their child. It’s an action as intimate as it is surprising. No, what's really surprising is the sappy look that the Pilot gets as he watches you reel back, feigning annoyance. Sero personally finds your reaction rather cute - though he supposes he finds most of the things you do cute.

“Perhaps,” you begin, “I should say fate is such a mysterious thing.”

Fate.

Sero doesn’t believe in Fate. Doesn’t believe in most things that he couldn’t see, touch or feel. It was the, for lack of better words, pragmatic way of living. And that in itself is usually surprising for strangers. It’s almost contradictory for Sero to be such a carefree person yet look at things in the most pragmatic way possible.

“Do you think they’re each other’s first love?” Sero asks, watching as the groom spins the bride around.

He’s met with both a “yes” and “no” from the Chef and Pilot respectively.

Sero isn’t all too sure, more distracted with the fact that you’re still holding onto his hand instead of the dancing couple on their floor. Sero wonders if you want to dance. If you’d dance with him or one of your other muses.

“She’s his first love.” You say.

Sero raises an eyebrow, “hm?”

“It’s the way he looks at her,” you smile, “you always look at your first love differently from everyone else. There’s a certain kind of softness in his eyes.”

“It’s too bad his best man doesn’t seem to like her very much.” Adds the Chef.

“What makes you say that?” You asked.

The Chef points to the best man who is sitting alone at the table, his gaze stuck on the dancing newly weds, “because he’s sitting so stiffly.”

Sero nods, “he does seem rather annoyed.”

“I get that impression too.” The Pilot said.

Your eyes get this curious look in them, “elaborate.”

“I guess it has something to do with the way he acts around her,” the Pilot pauses for a brief moment but continues quickly after, “it’s like he’s stepping on eggshells.”

“He could just be shy.” The Chef suggests, despite being the one to bring up dislike of the best man in the first place. Ever the optimist, Sero thinks.

Sero chuckles, playfully suggesting, “or maybe doesn’t like her and is upset the groom is marrying someone he doesn’t like?”

“He’s in love with her.” You say it as if it’s the most obvious thing.

“And what makes you think that?” The Pilot asks, his voice shaking ever so slightly.

“Follow his gaze.”

Fall in love with someone gentle.

---

Exactly As You Saw

My Dearest,

I think I dream of you, sometimes. And sure, maybe now I can barely recall your face or the sound of your voice but I know for certain it’s you. I know it’s you because I love you.

Yours Truly

---

Sero Hanta was, in the words of everyone else, a good person. A friendly dude. A talkative and charismatic fellow. He wasn’t ever much of a thinker. Didn’t ponder very long when it came to the harder hitting topics of life - but he did, as Sero likes to point out, think about you.

Thought about you when he was alone in his room, staring up at the ceiling in the middle of the night.

Thought about you as he looked over at the photos you sent him.

And, he thought about you as you walked beside him. The back of your hand brushing up against his own every so often. You’re smiling warmly at him as he rambles off about one thing or another. Finds his heart warming as you listen so intently to his words. Most girls usually tune him out after an hour or two of his rambling but he can’t fault them too much. He’s not even listening to his own words, much too distracted by you.

You look so pretty today. Your hair pushed back in a baseball cap that Sero managed to win for you earlier today. He had been pretty disappointed that he hadn’t been able to win you a stuffed bear but thought that this, if anything, was a good consolation prize. Seeing you wear something that he had managed to get for you.

It makes his heart skip a beat in that dramatic way it does when he’s with a girl he likes.

The baseball cap looks good on you despite it not going very well with your outfit. You had decided to wear a yukata so the entire look is thrown off but you manage to pull it off. Moderately. Sero himself had been torn between the new yukata his mother had gotten him for his birthday and the hoodie you’d bought for him during one of his photo shoots with you. He’s happy though that he ultimately decided to wear his yukata because he thinks he matches pretty nicely with you. That the two of you almost look like a-

He can’t bring himself to finish that thought aloud. So instead he’ll leave it there. Unfinished. Waiting for his subconscious to scoop it up instead and convert it into a dream of the prettiest of sorts. But Sero thinks that that is where you always manage to look your best. Captured within the loving memory of another.

You’re the kind of girl that he used to think wasn’t real. The kind of girl that people wrote sonnets for and sang ballads of. The kind of girl that never noticed guys like him. Or at least not the kind of girl that would settle for a guy like him - as pathetic as that sounds.

“Are you okay?” You ask, your shoulder nudging against his gently.

Sero smiles fondly as he looks at you, “mhm.”

If you don’t believe him you do a good job of hiding it as you lead him further through the festival grounds.

        I know a girl         Who likes to drink her coffee black         ‘Cause sugar, no, she don’t got time for that         Leaves her desires at the welcome mat         When she walks in

The festival is beautiful. The warm light from the sunset quickly being replaced by the orange lighting of candles and lanterns set up over the festival grounds.

Sero had always been a big fan of lanterns. He loves all the different designs and colours that they came in. Mostly though he loved that they all came together for a singular purpose. To light up the world for the people that had so lovingly created them.

Sakura trees hang over the festival grounds, their bright pink flowers tinted purple and blue in the quickly fading light of day. Sero notes that the trees are placed meticulously apart from one another. So even and orderly - reminding him of the military. Personally, Sero has always been more fond of a more chaotic look to things but can appreciate all the love and effort that must have gone into cultivating and upkeep this forest of Sakura trees in the first place.

Bright red tables are set up beneath most of the Sakura trees, either selling products or conducting games for people to play. Children run between the stalls with bright smiles on their faces, pushing past the crowds with reckless abandon because they can.

He wonders if he was just as rambunctious as a kid.

No, he must have been just as rambunctious if all the white hair on his mother’s head said anything. Oh, his poor mother.

But Sero likes to think he turned out well.

That his parents are proud of the person he’s become.

‘SNAP’

Sero’s head jerks over to you, smiling slightly when he sees you holding a camera up to your face.

“What ya got there, Sweets?” Sero asks, a mischievous smile playing on the edge of his lips.

You smile playfully in response, “wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I, in fact, would.”

“Well, I don’t want to show you.”

Sero pouts, “why not?”

“Hm,” you let your camera fall from your hands and hang loosely around your neck as you hold the picture in your hands, inspecting it as the photo seemingly begins to slowly appear. Most of the time, if Sero’s recalling is correct, you prefer to use a digital camera or your phone.

He’s pretty sure it has something to do with the fact that you lost a bunch of the photos you took last year in a tragic accident when your briefcase filled with photos was misplaced causing you to have to call a bunch of your muses together for an impromptu photoshoot. It had been your most successful year yet despite the mishap but your manager was quick to make sure something like that would never happen again.

It seemed that you weren’t as nervous.

“Well?” Sero asks expectantly.

“Some things are better left as a secret, don’t you think?” You asked.

Sero swallowed, “I guess so.”

His response makes you smile as you pull out a silver compact from your pocket. Most girls carry compacts in their pockets right? To touch up their makeup or something? Truthfully, Sero isn’t too sure. He’s never paid all that much attention.

Instead of looking at yourself in the mirror of the compact you put the photo inside before closing it. It looks like there were quite a few photos inside the compact but Sero can’t find it in himself to ask. Either choosing to agree with your earlier statement or too nervous to hear what your answer would be. Likely a little bit of both.

        And I know a boy         Who likes to keep his burner on         He’s always running with no one to keep warm         It’s like he’s flirting with the smoke alarm         His fire’s fading

“So, where are you from again, Sweets?” Sero asks, as he takes a seat on the bench beside you.

You smile, in that way that usually do, and it sends Sero’s heart into a tizzy of a flutter, “guess.”

He imagines you’re originally from a coastal town. Somewhere where you’re familiar with the foreign and exotic. Somewhere romantic. Something so different from where he had gone when he was young. Somewhere that authors write stories and explorers seek to find. Somewhere it’s so distinctly you that Sero would know the moment he first landed.

But then again, you do seem rather at home in the city.

And you wouldn’t be very familiar with city life if you lived in a coastal town now would you.

He can see that. You, having a fast and bright childhood. Born in a place where everything is always moving and the people never stop. And that’s romantic in its own sense. A brilliant place where brilliant people gather together to live. Something where people like you come together to meet and compare notes. A kind of city that could cultivate someone as brilliant and amazing as you.

Yeah, that sounds realistic.

Sounds like you.

But, ultimately, Sero says, “a coastal town near the edge of the city?”

The answer feels more of a cop out than something substantial but it’s the only thing that Sero can think of to explain someone as amazing as you existing at all. The only place he can see someone like you being able to grow up in.

Ah, but that’s where he messes up.

“Na,” you smile softly, “I grew up in the suburbs. Nothing too small or anything too big either.”

“Oh.”

“Pretty regular, huh?”

“I…” Sero smiles apologetically, “I guess so.”

“I don’t think I’d ever be able to leave if I grew up somewhere like what you said,” you begin, “honestly I had a pretty hard time leaving my home town at all.”

“Really?”

“I would’ve been happy to have lived a boring and mundane life. To never be someone special.”

You, living a mundane life? It feels almost blasphemous to imagine such a thing. To live in a world where you aren’t someone that draws in the attention of everyone else. That there might be a timeline or universe out there where people all around don’t know your name or are familiar with the works you’ve given to this world.

Would you have been a mom?

A housewife?

Or would you have worked. Maybe you could have been a nurse or doctor. Someone that’s so attuned to the needs of others. Or maybe you would have been another office worker. Someone working a 9 to 5 to support their family.

It feels almost like Sero’s thinking of a different person.

No, that’s not exactly right. It does feel like something you could’ve done. Something you could’ve been if you had gone down a different path in life. He’s been thinking about this all the wrong way. Just because you live a mundane life doesn't mean you would be a mundane person.

Finally, Sero smiles fondly at you, “you could never not be someone special.”

        But still we laugh, we cry         We fall, we get high         Just like we were kids, just like we were kids         And when I am feeling small, you get me through it all         Just like we were kids, just like we were kids again

“Sweets,” Sero props his head on your shoulder as he watches you type a message into your phone to your manager. He feels a smile pull at the corner of your lips as he reads the message ‘K’. Nothing more or less than a simple letter in response to the long paragraph that your manager must have taken the time to painstakingly write. It’s something so very you that it can’t help but bring a smile to Sero’s face.

You tilt your head towards Sero, “hm?”

“What do you have my name saved on your phone?”

You hold your phone out to him, “Cellophane.”

“Why?” Sero asks.

“Why Cellophane?”

Sero nods.

“Because it’s your hero name.”

Sero’s cheeks flush at that. Of course that’s what you saved his name as. The two of you had been indulging in drinks at the bar the other day when Sero had gotten off work when the topic of Hero names had come up. Specifically, what his hero name would’ve been if there ever was a world with superpowers and hero names. You’d said something along the lines of ‘Fifteen’ (or maybe it was ‘Sixteen’) for one reason or another that Sero can’t remember off the top of his head. Sero was kind of bad for that - not remembering the reasoning behind things.

He, on the other hand, had been too embarrassed to say his own at first. It was a name he had thought about since he was young. Something so near and dear to his heart. Something he wasn’t so keen on sharing with the pretty girl he met at the bar, no matter how pretty you were. You had, of course, managed to wrangle the name from him by the end of the night but the two of you were wasted by then. Needing to be brought home by your friends.

It warms his heart to think that you not only remembered but that you had kept it like that all this time. There were many things you could have changed his contact name to and the fact that you kept it as something so near and dear to his heart was enough to make his heart flutter. Well, you always did things to make his heart flutter but this was different. This was you.

“And that’s what you are to me,” You say, “a hero. So of course I’d have you saved as your hero name.”

“Sweets!” Sero nuzzles his face into your neck, his cheeks flushed a bright shade of red.

He’d always known you were a sweetheart but he hadn’t realised that you were such a sentimentalist.

“Oh,” you stand up abruptly, “it’s almost time!”

“Almost time for what?”

Your eyes sparkle, “the firework show.”

Sero smiles. Quite the sentimentalist.

“Come on,” you say, as you begin making your way towards an empty part of the field. Let’s go watch the fireworks out in the open grass.

And what can he say but, “okay” in response.

There’s no way that Sero could ever say no to something when you look at him like that. Sero has always had a weakness for pretty girls but you seem to take the take. It probably has something to do with the way that you manage to make his heart skip a beat and the butterflies in his stomach flutter.

“So,” Sero hums, “you look pretty excited.”

“Yeah, I love fireworks,” you say softly, “they remind me of my youth.”

“And who doesn’t love getting a glimpse back into their youth?”

“Exactly.”

You don’t talk much about your past unless Sero brings it up first so he always finds himself indulging in moments like this. Wants to know as much as he can about you but can never seem to find the right words.

So he stands silently, the back of his hand brushing against your own.

“Have you ever been in love before?” You asked.

Sero nods, “just once.”

        I know a girl         Who’s never tried to settle down         She wears her loneliness just like a crown         But when she smiles, all the kinds will bow down, down, down

Fireworks.

Sero had never considered himself the biggest fan of fireworks but he wouldn’t go as far as to say that he disliked them either.

He liked fireworks as much as the next person.

He’d gone to see a few firework shows when he was young. There were firework festivals held in the summer of every year near where he lived but they never seemed to spark the same wonder in him as it did the people around him. Sure, they were pretty but there was nothing about them that inspired brilliance. Or at least nothing of the level of brilliance that other people seemed to give it.

He remembers the day when he first came to this realization like how one might remember the back of their hand.

Around the age of eight, when Sero’s parents had finally decided he was old enough to attend the summer festival himself, he and a few of his friends had decided to meet up and hang out. Play a couple of the festival games (and lose miserably because they’re all rigged), catch some goldfish (because he absolutely wanted a pet) and eat some sweet treats with the pocket money his parents had given him. And it was at the height of the festival when the fireworks had first begun that Sero had turned and looked at the faces of his friends instead of up at the sky. It was here that he realized that he didn’t look at the fireworks the same way.

In retrospect, Sero supposes that maybe he didn’t like fireworks because they didn’t hold the same level of importance in his life as it did for others. Didn’t have a nostalgic bond that other people seemed to have.

“Are you still in there?” You ask, waving a hand in front of Sero’s face playfully.

“Hm,” Sero perks his head up, his eyes meeting your own.

You always did have such pretty eyes. They have that sparkle in them that makes someone’s heart skip a beat. A certain brilliance that encourages even the most hesitant of people to charge forward in just the hopes of being noticed by someone as brilliant as you. Sero certainly knows. Better than most.

“Sorry,” you say softly, “you looked pretty deep in thought. I know I hate it when people interrupt me while I’m in the middle of thinking.”

Sero laughs, “then why’d you disturb me?”

“Because I wanted your attention.”

Sero’s cheeks flush red in embarrassment and the candidness of your words. Or maybe it was because of the brazenness of your words.

“What’re you thinking about?” You ask.

“One thing or another,” Sero hums, trying his best to feign indifference, “you know. Things that I want to do but don’t have the courage to.”

“You should do it if it’ll make you happy.”

“Hm?”

“Good times come and go so take advantage of the things that make you happy while you still can.”

        And I know a boy         Who’s broken every vow he’s made         Who’s spoken every cowards phrase         But he can listen like a rainy day         And drown it out

“If you could be anything, what would you be?” Sero asked.

“Everything.” You said, your answer coming out quick and easy - as if you’ve thought about something like this hundreds of times before. And because you’re you, and not anyone else, Sero thinks that maybe that might just be the case.

“Everything?” Sero raises an eyebrow, “isn’t that kind of an intense answer?”

“Well,” you hum, “it’s not a usual answer.”

“You never did like usual things, though.”

“Exactly! Who wants to live life being ‘usual?’ It’s boring and mundane.” You leaned back, looking up at the sky, “there’s so much I wish I could’ve done and so much more that I would change. There’s still so much that I want to do. I mean, I like where I am at this point in my life but I can’t help but constantly be caught between wanting everything else that I chose to not take. I sound like a total glutton, huh?”

“You do.”

You pout.

“But I don’t mind.”

“I imagine everyone has something in life they regret, either doing or not doing,” you begin, “a moment where they wish that they’d chosen to take a different path in life.”

“I don’t,” Sero smiles, “I’m quite happy with the way my life turned out.”

“Boring~”

Sero pouts, “well excuse me for being someone that doesn’t regret the way their life ended up.”

“Well you’re not boring but it seems like a pretty cliche answer.”

“You just said that most people have at least one in their life that they’d like to change. So how can my answer be cliche if it’s not something that everyone answers?” Sero challenges, “can’t be cliche unless it’s overused, Sweets.”

You frown, “then I guess I just don’t like your answer.”

Sero nods approvingly, “see, doesn’t it feel nice to just admit your feelings?”

“Don’t be a jerk about it.”

Sero laughs heartily in response, affectionately rubbing the top of your head, “don’t like it so much now that the shoe’s on the other foot, huh?”

You huff in response.

Sero’s heart flutters dramatically as he rests his head atop your shoulder, “come on, Sweets. It’s not that serious.”

“Brat.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re the one being a brat right now, Sweets.” Sero moves his head so that his chin is propped up on your shoulder as he gets a side view of your face. You really are such a pretty girl. Even when you’re upset and pouting. It’s nice. Refreshing almost when you’re usually the one doing all the teasing.

Sero supposes that even you can have trouble admitting your feelings.

Eventually, when the muscles in your face relax, Sero gives your cheek a playful poke, “so, Sweets, why don’t you like my answer?”

“I guess it makes me feel inadequate. Makes me feel a little greedy for wanting so much and life and feel stupid for not being able to make the choices that I wanted. Though,” you smile softly, “I suppose you can never make the choice in life that you really want to make when you want to make both choices in the first place.”

“Mhm,” Sero nods, “quite the predicament.”

“Does it make me a bad person?”

“It might.”

“I figured as much.”

“But it’s okay.”

“And why is it okay?”

“Because I’ll still like you, whether you’re a bad person or not.”

Before you can give Sero a response you're cut off by a loud blast sounding off from the field in front of the two of you.

        But still we laugh, we cry         We fall, we get high         Just like we were kids, just like we were kids         And when I am feeling small, you get me through it all         Just like we were kids, just like we were kids again

The fireworks, like they always do (and always will), begin dramatically. Dashing up to the sky like mad men.

Rising up passionately.

Loudly.

Dramatically.

Soaring to heights that seemingly no one else ever has before. So bright and brilliant as they reach their peak. They are hopes, dreams and wishes turned into passions, ambitions and desires. Everything that someone hopes to be when they look up to the sky. Everything they will ever be.

And then they slowly fall.

Ever so gently and softly.

Down.

Down.

And down.

Until they’re gone.

And the moment when everything is done and gone Sero feels both a moment of reprieve and disappointment. Relief that such a passionate moment is only but a moment. Disappointment that such a passionate moment is only but a moment.

But that moment of reprieve and disappointment is only but a moment as the next firework makes its way up in the sky hoping to be just as brilliant and bright as the last. Wishing to burn for just as long and dreaming to be what it was made to be.

“Have you ever been in love before?” Sero asks, finally mustering up the courage to take your hand in his own.

Your hand feels so nice in comparison to his own. Not as rough as his own are from years of working as a firefighter. He supposes he shouldn’t be so surprised. Your hands are, afterall, ones of a photographer. Ones that recently so lovingly maneuvered his own into the right position for the perfect picture. Ones that slowly traced over the edges of the camera, gently pressing over the different buttons as you adjust for the lighting and placement. And currently the ones he happened to be holding on his own.

You smile, “of course.”

Your answer makes Sero happy yet sad at the same time.

In all honesty, Sero isn’t certain what he was expecting. He imagines someone like you would have fallen in love before. Knows for certain that there must be tons of people that have already fallen in love with you. You’re the kind of person that is meant to be loved by others. But, just maybe, a small part of him wanted to be the first person to be loved by you. And it’s a selfish thought. The both of you are adults but he allows himself to indulge in his selfish thoughts for just a moment longer. Afterall, while the two of you are adults you also happen to be adults attending a children’s festival.

He wonders if he should lean over and plant a kiss on your lips.

Wonders if you’d smile in response and kiss him back.

Confess your love to him in the midst of the fireworks. Love him because he’s the one here right now standing beside you.

He doesn’t.

Can’t bring himself to. Not while his heart is beating erratically like he’s once again a green kid out with a girl for the first time.

You’re not even his first love.

But you are presently the girl he loves.

Maybe you won’t always be the one he loves. Won’t always be the one who makes his heart skip a beat and the butterflies in his stomach flutter but you are that girl now. And that’s all that matters. Right now, it feels as if that’s all that will ever matter.

It’s enough.

You’re enough.

This is enough.

        Just like we were kids         Just like we were kids again         Just like we were kids         Just like we were kids         Just like we were kids again

“What’re you thinking about, Sweets?” Sero asks, his hand still holding your own.

You smile in that way that always makes his heart race, “you.”

Sero blushes, “Sweets!”

“Is that what you have me saved as in your phone?” You asked.

“No.”

“Oh.”

You watch him curiously, as if you’re waiting for him to say something more. He doesn’t. Not that he doesn’t want to, Sero loves talking, but he’s finding the current topic increasingly harder and harder to avoid.

“So are you going to tell me?” You ask.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to tell you.

Sero feigns indifference “tell you what?”

It’s just that he hadn’t had a chance to change it. Or maybe he hadn’t wanted to change it. Honestly it was more embarrassing for him that it was you.

“What you have me saved as in your phone.” You explain, “you already know I have you saved as Cellophane.”

It’s not his fault that he misheard what you said back when the two of you first met. Well maybe it was a little bit of his fault but it was loud in the bar where the two of you first met and he was distracted by your pretty face.

Sero blushes, “Cam - Era - Girl.”

“Cam - Era - Girl?” You repeated, “camera girl.”

Sero nods slowly.

Then you. Brilliant and amazing you, laugh. As if it’s the funniest joke he’s heard in a long while. Sero’s cheeks are flushed red hot again - but he’s gotten rather used to that sensation. At least while he’s around you.

“That’s funny!’ You smile, “way more creative than some of the names that other people have me saved as.”

“I suppose so.”

“You think I could be a cam girl?” You do a dramatic pose of some sort and give a playful wink, “think my reputation could uphold going into a business like this?”

“Oh, (Y/n)! I didn’t mean it that way!”

You turn to him and smile fondly, “you used my name.”

“I suppose I did.”

“I like how it sounds when you say it.”

“You do?”

“I also like it when you call me ‘Sweets’ but the way you say my name makes it sound prettier.” You tilt your head to the side cutely, “do you know what I mean?”

Sero nods.

He doesn’t but you don’t need to know that.

“(Y/n) is the precious name that someone who loved me dearly gifted to me. It seems only fitting that someone I love would use it as well.”

You love him.

That very idea itself makes his heart soar.

Sero knows for certain that he loves you.

Fall in love with someone you can love.

---

Song: Kids Again Artist: Artist vs Poet

---

Her: Do you love me?

[omostuff490]

DNI: Minors, pedophiles and all its subcategories, zoophiles (furries don't count, if you're a furry, you're welcome here), transphobes, homophobes, racists, xenophobes, sexists of all kinds, yes women can be sexist too, suck it up, people who discriminate others for their religions, bodyshamers, abelists of all kinds, people who are disgusted by sexual topics and pee (because there's a lot of that on this blog, so I'm warning you, if you decide to interact anyway, that's on you), pro/anti shipers (I don't care what side you're on as long as you don't do anything that could harm others or yourself in real life (unless it's consensual BDSM) and I don't want drama on this blog because it's supposed to be a safe space!!!)

Master List

Hi! I'm J, I'm an 18 year old FTM (he/him/maybe they/it) (I'm mostly a guy, but I feel like a slight part of my gender isn't anywhere in the binary so to simplify things for the cis folk, I just say I'm a guy) and this is my blog where I post and talk about omorashi! I will be sharing my thoughts/opinions, tips, experiences and maybe even book recommendations if I start reading more omo stuff. I might write fics on here for fun too! Although my fics will probably only be with my own ocs. My inbox will be open if you have any questions or just wanna discuss omorashi with me. Please note, I do not want to sext anyone, especially older straight cis men who don't see me as a man. I'm down to flirt if I like you and share a little too much information, but that's it. Also I would like to mention that I have a fiancé (she/they), we're in an open relationship and we're polyamorous. I say this because 1, I'm very proud to have her in my life, especially as my fiancé and I can and will boast about them every chance I get. And 2, I might mention her here and there in my posts because I physically can't shut up about her. Please do not DM this blog and be creepy, I will block you. You can DM normally though, but I prefer you go in my ask box so we can have an open discussion. :3 If you are a minor, I can't stop you from reading my stuff, I know, I was that kid too not long ago, but please PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT WITH ME ON THIS BLOG!!! Also if you're actually reading this, stay safe, ok? There's dangerous people on the internet who will try to take advantage of you. Don't let them, you're wonderful in your own way and deserving of genuine love and not manipulation even if you don't think so, you can and will get through this ❤️

Anyway, this is supposed to be a safe space, so please be nice to eachother, be respectful, don't yuk someone's yum, mind your own business, you're allowed to have your opinions, but don't push them onto others yada yada, you get it. Enjoy your stay!

[blondeaxolotl]

Could you share some bits of what it was/would be like for the only child of a Mantis queen of bug demons and son of a crow demon to grow up in? Like was Seb also treated kinda bad by the bug demon folk for being half bird half mantis and taking after the crow genes more? (I LOVE THIS LORE KEEP YAPPING!!)

FDSJUFIDS IM GLAD YOURE ENJOYING IT ILL KEEP YAPPING YESSIR !!!

After Sebastian was born into the family (keep in mind, Mr Michaelis is no longer in the picture, it was just Mama Michaelis raising him),he was pretty much already accepted by the mantis people! Believe it or not, happy and accepting queen = happy and accepting people! (Bug peoples behavior depends on how their queen behaves, if their queen is nice, the people are nice, if their queen is mean, the people are mean)

It's again outside people that were the most troublesome for him, the same bugs that judged Mama Michaelis and didn't like her, also hated her son equally as they hated her. Including Claude's family, meaning Claude was forbidden from hanging out with Sebastian before they even knew each other existed Fortunately Mama Michaelis kept her distance in general away from them since she didn't want her son to feel humiliated, she just stuck around her own people and other demons she was already friends with, who also gave her tips on raising Sebastian since- she didn't know how to raise a crow demon. Thankfully one of her friends just happened to be someone who was fixated on demon cultures and gave her tips on raising her son, Thanks Anah (Anah being Angela and Ash mom btw) Surprisingly Sebastian didn't grow up with any issues with bullies or being looked down by others since his Mama kept him away from people that looked down at her for those things. So he grew up as a happy kid with a normal life!! The only sad thing is that he didn't know his dad, but Mama told him stories about him whenever she could. Oh yeah if you're wondering where Papa Michaelis is, he's dead, he was eaten, headless. (He died a happy man)

[grcvewctcher]

💋

send 💋 for a kiss on the lips || @berthindeath

He does not think that any of their number had imagined that they would be here and battling so hard for a better future so far into time; indeed, for a possible future, even into the new year. But here they are, the 'Veilguard' as they have been dubbed, sitting communally in the Lighthouse and taking the evening.

It's a night of morale and of camaraderie, and in truth, Emmrich did not realize how much even he had needed a night of pure companionship with his colleagues - his friends - as much as he clearly has.

But even the staunchest of romantic folk heroes knew when to step back, take care of the bonds with their compatriots, and rest the body and mind.

He has been slowly sipping at a lovely Antivan red that Lucanis had asserted to be a gift from Teia; had noticed that Gwen had quickly moved to ensure the bottle was, ah... Safe. Given the de Riva Talon's proficiency with poisons. None of them, of course, thought their allies would turn on them, particularly at this point in their venture, but mix-ups were not unheard of in life and in matters of death.

But it is just an exceptionally good wine; cherries and chocolate with red plum blooming across his tongue. He watches the group with warmth he does not bother to disguise, as Manfred plays with Assan upon the upper balcony, as Lucanis plays something light-hearted upon Solas' piano to the avid (and incredulous) attention of Harding, Davrin, and Bellara.

But as they have all night, his eyes return once more to Rook. To Gwen. And the warmth curling in his chest at the sight of her, smiling and laughing with her head bent to the golden-head of Inquisitor Lavellan as they speak together... Well that has nothing to do with the wine at all.

The hour grows late, however, and he rises slowly, stifling the urge to clear his throat and walking to the pair of women, with a smile on his mouth. "My dear Lady Lavellan- might I borrow Ro-Gwen, a moment?" He asks softly.

The once-inquisitor's brows raise at the question, and she and Gwen share a look he isn't sure how to parse but for that the smiles on their faces both grow. "Certainly," the elvhen woman says softly, gently nudging Gwen towards him. "I'll talk to you later, Gwen."

From there, it's but a moment to take Gwen's arm in his, and the way he must suppress a shiver at the warmth of her as she tucks herself in to his side is... Ah, goodness. He has not felt so intensely for anyone in what feels like a long time.

Still, he walks them out of the common room entirely, into the courtyard, and gestures with one hand to the sky above them. As opposed to the almost perpetual-daylight they often have, tonight they have a true night sky, lit in velvet sapphire and inky black, interspersed by diamond-brilliant points of light. Every now and again, one of these fade-stars seems to glow brighter, and then arc across the sky, much like a meteor shower, only somehow even more breathtaking.

"I had wanted to witness this with you," he says quietly, watching as Gwen stares upon the display with blatant delight. "I believe the Lighthouse is celebrating with us, my dear, and I... That is to say..." He considers himself for a moment, and then carefully catches her chin in his fingers, tipping her head towards him.

He could lose himself forever in those crushed-violet-petal eyes, and he shudders on an exhale. "I wished to thank you for the loveliest of nights. And for bringing me into this battle at your side. It has been hard, and I've no illusions that it will be harder yet to come. But at your side, I am beginning to think we could accomplish anything. And so, Gwen. Happiest of new years to you. And thank you for beginning it with me."

The fade-stars above them whirl and dance through the sky, and he can see it in her eyes- but he closes his own, and then leans down to carefully, gently, slant his lips over her own. The kiss is a soft, heady thing, as he draws her into him. They move together, slow and heated, sinking in to one another. His tongue begs entry and she grants it; and it is with the softest of groans that he deepens the kiss, arms shifting to encircle her and hold her to his chest, as her own wind about his neck.

The taste of her, the feel of her against him, is more than he could have ever dreamed as he licks into her mouth, kisses her like one would savor the finest of wines, committing everything about her, how she moves with him, how she fits against him to his memory deeper than a brand. She plays havoc with his senses, and in this priceless stretch of heartbeats, nothing exists for him but her. Gwen Ingellvar. Rook. For just a moment, he presses the kiss more firmly- almost bruising against her lips until he eases back and soothes the sting, lips pressing more softly to hers once, twice.

When he pulls back, they are both breathless. He could not look away from her for anything. He does not wish to.

"We shall face everything this new year has to offer together," he says softly, the pads of his fingertips gently stroking her jaw. "If you are of a mind."