#wrote this for someone on an old blog and reposting it as an open

[marvelmultimusebitches]

|| OPEN || Peter & Wanda ||

Peter had been looking for Wanda for long enough that he was seriously considering bringing in outside help, but he didn't exactly know people in this world who could help him so he hadn't yet. Instead he just kept going, luckily getting by wasn't all that hard with his speed. He took what he needed and he moved around enough that people usually didn't notice enough missing to even realize there was an issue.

Finally he had managed to find a lead, he'd found someone the news called 'Hawkeye'. He'd been hoping to find either him or someone called 'Ant Man', both seemed less likely to try and fuck him up but Hawkeye seemed like he might have more answers for him. He'd pointed him in a direction, gave him coordinates and told him not to die. Made sense with what he'd read about how this world's version of him had died.

So finally here he was, standing outside of a building looking at a set of coordinates on a slip of paper as the world seemed to be in slow motion around him. He moved to the door before slowing himself, hand coming up and knocking on the door at a normal speed before reaching up and pulling his ear buds out and letting them hang around his neck by the cord.

[nikkento-writes]

Babysitter - Part 1

Pairing: dad!Toji x babysitter!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.7k

cw: age gap (reader is 21, Toji is in his 30s), language, cheating, smut – PIV sex (doggy style), breeding kink, daddy kink

Summary: You're hired to babysit little Megumi for the summer, but you end up taking care of his father, Toji, as well.

Author’s Notes: This is repost from my old blog! I initially got this as a request and it became my first Toji fic ever, and certainly not my last lol. I'm posting this again because I actually wrote a Part 2, check it out! Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

You stand in front of a quaint house, checking your watch for the time. It’s been almost ten minutes now since you knocked, no answer. You gave the number from the listing a call, still nothing. Rolling your eyes, you take a seat on the steps leading to the door, waiting.

It’s the summer before you head back to university for your senior year. In an attempt to make some extra cash, you took a job as a babysitter through local ads in the paper. The first two clients were completely normal; this one is already leaving a bad taste in your mouth. 

Fifteen minutes have passed. You try once more, pounding on the door with your fist as loud as you can. Heel turned, ready to leave, it suddenly swings open, revealing a muscular man with black hair, glaring at you. “What the fuck do you want?” 

You step back, startled by his intimidating presence. Stuttering, you answer, “I’m the babysitter.”

He continues to stare at you, eyes following your body up and down, studying it. “Babysitter?”

Before you can explain any further, you hear a car rolling into the driveway. A woman in professional attire steps out quickly. “I’m so sorry I’m late!” She rushes towards you, holding her hand out to shake yours. “We spoke on the phone. I got stuck in traffic, I’m so sorry.”

You smile at her. “It’s okay.”

She faces the man, expression switching from cheery to dreary in an instant. “Toji, where is Megumi?”

He scratches his head. “Huh?”

“Megumi. Our child.”

He sighs. “Right. Uh, I’ll go get him.” 

While he’s gone, the woman pulls you aside, speaking in a hushed voice. “That’s Toji, my husband and Megumi’s father. Unfortunately, he’s a complete deadbeat. That’s why I want to hire you. I started my new job and I need someone to take care of Megumi while I’m gone during the day.”

She swallows hard, blinking to fight off oncoming tears. “I have no one. I’ve been shunned by my family, my husband doesn’t give a shit about ours, and I’m all alone trying to give Megumi a good life. I know this is a lot to ask, but I’m desperate. This is just until I can save enough money to hire a full-time nanny.”

She grips onto your wrist with both her hands, begging for help. Truthfully, it’s a lot to unravel, more drama than you anticipated. But the anguish in her eyes tugs at your heartstrings. Plus, knowing it’s temporary doesn’t make it seem so difficult. How bad can it be? “Okay. I’ll do it.”

Relief washes over her. “Oh thank god. Thank you. Thank you. Let’s go inside and I can give you a tour.” She leads you through the entrance, removing her shoes as you follow her. “Oh, and one more thing.”

“Sure.”

“Toji is home most of the day, but he’s always couped up in his room, doing god knows what. Just leave a meal or two outside his door twice a day. That should be enough.”

“Huh?!” 

She glances at you with a nervous smile on her face. “Yeah. I told you, he’s good for nothing.”

You don’t respond while you maneuver through the house, barely paying attention while she shows you around. It almost sounds like you’ll be babysitting two children…

~~~

The first two weeks of your new job go by smoothly. Megumi is an adorable baby; he’s almost two-years-old with hair as black as his father’s. While he never really smiles, he doesn’t cry either, expression usually stern, unless he needs a diaper change. He’s self-sufficient, always immersed by his own toys until it’s time to eat. Overall, he’s easy. 

Toji, on the other hand, is another story. 

You follow his wife’s instructions, leaving two meals outside his door, breakfast and lunch. And this asshole has the audacity to critique it! The bread wasn’t toasted enough. The eggs were too runny. There wasn’t enough seasoning on the meat. All this criticism while each plate is licked clean, not a crumb to spot. He’s never even uttered a simple thank you. 

But what he lacks in social skills or personality, he makes up for in his physique. In between meals, he works out in the living room lifting weights, doing push-ups, sit-ups, and pull-ups at the frame of the door. It lasts for over an hour, and by the end of it, he’s shirtless, dripping with sweat. You’ve done everything in your power to avoid staring but it doesn’t prevent your mind from conjuring all types of lewd thoughts about him. You’re ashamed to admit that he is physically attractive, only because everything else about him is utter trash. Still, it doesn’t hurt to look, right?

On the third week, there’s a shift in energy between you two. When he isn’t working out or going out to meet with his sketchy friends, he’s usually couped up in his bedroom, ignoring you and Megumi. This morning, he actually joins you in the kitchen. You stare blankly at him, stunned by his sudden appearance. Megumi is unfazed by his father as he tries to pull your wrist towards him to get a spoonful of mushed up peas. 

When he catches you, Toji glares. “What?”

“Um, nothing. Just surprised to see you here.” You clear your throat, focusing back on the baby. 

He rolls his eyes. “This is my house. I can do whatever I want.”

“Yes, of course. Sir.”

For some reason, this triggers him. He stands up abruptly, stepping to you, leaning his face towards yours. The scar on the corner of his lip twitches when he gives you a wicked grin. “That’s right. I’m in charge here.”

You flinch from him, scared, maybe even slightly aroused. He’s intense, that’s for sure. But part of you finds it exhilarating to be in his presence. 

Megumi whines for more food, to which Toji grabs the utensil from your hands to start feeding him. “Damn kid, he’s hungry all the fucking time.”

You sit up in your seat, regaining your composure. “You shouldn’t curse in front of children.”

He faces you, chuckling. “Curse? Seriously? What are you, five?”

You cross your arms, answering, “I’m twenty-one.”

“Interesting.” There’s that naughty smirk again, as if he’s thinking something obscene in that twisted head of his. And while you should be turned off, you’re not. You squeeze your legs together, pussy throbbing between your thighs. And of course, he notices this. He must, because he leans forward, lips grazing your ear, whispering, “Come by my room whenever Megumi is taking his nap. That’s an order.”

~~~

This is bad. Very, very bad. 

You're supposed to be better than this. Clearly, you aren’t, because you’re currently getting railed by your employer’s husband while his child sleeps peacefully in the next room.

“Fuck, this pussy is tight,” he groans, pumping his thick cock in and out of you. You’re bent over the edge of the bed, his hips smacking against your ass as he thrusts into you. He’s got a tight grip on your hips, nails digging into your flesh, pounding away at your greedy pussy, absolutely drenched with arousal and lube. Your face is sticky with perspiration, pillow soaked with sweat and drool. It’s a fucking mess, but it doesn’t matter, because all you can think about is Toji fucking you until you’re seeing stars. Until your head is empty and nothing but his fat cock is occupying your thoughts.

“God, you’re squeezing me so fucking hard, princess. You gonna come again?”

You nod erratically, reaching your fingers to your clit. He smacks it away, doing it himself, his thumb flicking against your swollen bud. “Fucking come on my cock then. Make it nice and creamy for me, got it?”

His cock is buried deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you unravel, gushing around him once more. You’ve lost count on how many orgasms you’ve had in this short amount of time. 

After your climax, he doesn’t pull out, fucking you even rougher. Your body is pliant around him, yielding to his every touch like putty. You’ve lost control of yourself, completely enraptured in the intense pleasure he surrounds you with. 

He leans forward, chest pressed to your back, lips brushed to your ear. “I’m gonna knock you up. Give Megumi a little brother or sister. Would you like that?” He’s crazy. Completely unhinged. Absolutely fucking psycho. 

“Fuck yes, I want that,” you moan. “Give it to me, daddy. Breed me.” 

And apparently, so are you. 

“Oh fuck yeah, take my fucking cum then,” he growls. The bed creaks violently below you, his backshots brutal and frantic now, cock desperate for release. “I’m gonna get you fucking pregnant. Make you mine.”

He shoots his hot load inside you, stuffing you full of his cum. He doesn’t stop until he’s fucked it deeper into your pussy, watching with that sexy look on his face as his creamy cum leaks out of your slit.

Lifting you up to lay comfortably on the bed, he rolls beside you, kissing you sloppily until Megumi’s whimpers blare through the baby monitor, indicating that he’s awake. Toji laughs, smacking your ass as you crawl over him to return to your real job. 

~~~

You spend the remainder of your summer employed at the Fushiguro household until you have to go back to school. You and Toji continue to fuck each other silly every day that you’re working. 

The day before you leave for college, you say your goodbyes to the family. Megumi’s mom, who remains blissfully unaware of your sins, hugs you tightly. “Thank you so much for all your help. I’ve finally saved enough money to afford a full-time nanny, so we’ll be fine.” 

“It was my pleasure. I had a lot of fun. With Megumi,” you clarify, avoiding Toji’s gaze as he watches from the kitchen. 

“Seriously. You’re a good person. I hope you know that.” She smiles, truly grateful. “And thank you for taking care of my good for nothing husband too.”

As the guilt of this dirty, filthy secret eats away at you, Toji stares at you from across the room, smirking. 

[jj-one]

A MODERN LOVE STORY.

this is smut, do not interact if under 18

when your tinder date who was supposed to be just a hook up becomes your boyfriend within a week.

pairing: han jisung x f!reader genre/tags: pwp, smut, fluff, jisung is such a gentleman, fingering, oral (m receiving), piv, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap), major size kink, slight daddy kink (not surprised), jisung has huge dick, jisung cums on readers face, i think that's it Imk if i missed any o_0 words: 4.5k

**old repost from my deleted blog

Dating apps were never really your thing, you’ve always been an “old fashioned” kind of girl. You’ve secretly dreamt of meeting your lover in a grocery store or bumping into them at a library where you instantly fall in love. Unfortunately, you can’t be delusional forever, your Prince Charming isn’t going to just come knocking for you at your doorstep. Unless…you find someone who can come to your doorstep but through an app, Tinder. You decided to give it a try and see what all the hype was about after your best friend Ryujin raved about all the hot guys she was meeting— and banging.

You often found yourself quite jealous of all the good sex she was getting, she could have anything she wanted all at her fingertips. You were always horny and looking for the next toy to play with but you decided maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to try and find a cute guy to hook up with and relieve some quick stress. You may be old fashioned but you weren’t too uptight to have a hook up once in a while.

You downloaded Tinder for once in your lifetime and wrote in all your info, chose your best photos, and made a silly little bio. Your bio was just ‘looking for a fun time, need someone who can break my back, not my heart’ you know it super lame but most guys like corny shit like that anyway. You swiped for ages and ages, barely giving anyone a right swipe because you were way too picky. They had to be top tier in the visual department even if they were just a one night stand, you’ll always have standards. You were getting tired of swiping and just about to call it a night up until you swiped on the next profile. His name was Han and he only lived 2.5 miles from you.

As you were scrolling through his profile, you couldn’t stop thinking how hot he was, his hair was blonde, and he always wore the same cross necklace in his all photos. You read his profile some more and saw that he has a dog named Bbama and you smiled at how adorable his dog was. You instantly swiped right after seeing the dog pics and you couldn’t believe you matched with him already. Your heart kind of skipped a beat for a second and you closed the app immediately. You didn’t think he’d be so quick to match with you and you wanted to message him but your pride got in the way. You figured he’s way too fine to even message you back, he probably gets floods of messages from girls asking. You decide to play it cool and not say anything, instead you took a screenshot of his profile and sent it to Ryujin.

She texts you back a couple minutes later and says she thinks he’s really hot, you’re glad she approves but you’re not surprised that she wouldn’t. You go through his profile again and see that he has his Instagram linked to his Tinder, you go to his Instagram account and continue your stalking spree. You see a bunch of pics of his dog, food, and mostly outdoorsy stuff. You didn’t figure him to be the wilderness type of guy but he was, he’s been hiking all over different mountains and has photos of him at the very top. You were in awe of how fearless this man was, you were swayed already by how he presented himself.

Your phone buzzes with a new notification.

‘Han sent you a message’ Tinder alerts you of 2 new notifications from him. You open the messages immediately, a huge grin plastered on your face as you read what he said to you.

‘Hi y/n’

‘What’s your favorite food?’

‘I’m taking notes on where I need to take you on our first date’

That was very smooth but also straightforward, you liked him already.

‘Pho, I could eat it everyday’

‘You’re already planning our date? lol’

You sent the messages and texted Ryujin straight away, telling her how much of a success this was already going. She tells you how much she was right all along and how you’ve been missing out this whole time, you just giggle at her shenanigans.

You get another notification from Tinder and it’s from your favorite new guy already.

‘Yes, how could I not? You’re a 10/10’

You smile to yourself when reading at that comment, you never really saw yourself as a perfect 10 but if someone this highly attractive sees you that way then you must be a smokeshow. Han sends you another message,

‘I can pick you up tmrw at 5? Dinner is on me babe so no need to bring a wallet ;)’

You bit your lip at that last sentence, who would’ve known someone this sexy could be your sugar daddy AND fuck buddy? Ok well maybe the sugar daddy part was just a joke. It definitely turned you on knowing that he’s willing to spend his money on you without you feeling guilt about it though.

‘See you at 5 <3’ you reply to him.

The very next day you’re in the car going to your date with Han. The moment you laid eyes on him there was a lustful nature that came out of you. You didn’t even think it could be possible but he looked even better in person, the pictures didn’t do him justice whatsoever. His jawline was insane, it was sharp and looked absolutely perfect from his side profile. His hair was a little messy but in a really cute way, he had a small silver stud in his ear and wore his cross necklace like the one in his photos. You couldn’t believe it was really him in your driveway, he had to be the most beautiful you’ve ever seen. He wore a plain black T-shirt with baggy jeans and converse, he looked effortlessly cool. He was driving with one hand on the wheel and the other was playing with his radio. He was trying to get the Aux cord to work properly but it just wasn’t cooperating with him, he decides to just leave it alone.

“So uh.. anyway is this your first Tinder date?” He asks trying to break the awkward silence.

“Yeah, actually it is,” you tell him “I’m not the hugest fan of dating apps but I decided why not give it a shot.” You say as your shrug your shoulders.

“Ah I see, well you met me so that’s a good sign so far right?” He asks with a goofy grin on his face, you couldn’t help but giggle at his quirkiness.

You talk for a bit more in the car and get to know each other, as you’re getting nearer to the destination he comes to a stop into a parking lot. He gets out of the car first and opens the door for you on your side.

“M’lady,” Han says in a funny voice, taking your hand in his as you get out the car. You’re loving his silly and fun energy so far, it’s definitely bringing your mood up as you had no expectations for how this would go.

The date ended up going extremely well, you both couldn’t stop laughing and cracking jokes together. Everything felt super lighthearted and easygoing with Han, you felt like you could say just about anything with him, feeling like you’ve known him for much longer than a couple of hours. He bought so much expensive meat for the both of you at the restaurant and the pho was fantastic. You’ve never been to this particular restaurant before as it was a bit too out of your price range, you were surprised when he told you he ate here frequently. You wanted to ask him what he does for a living but you don’t want to seem rude. You ate as much as you could and he definitely ate way more than you, lightly making fun at the way you eat. You do eat pretty slow so you aren’t shocked by the way he’s noticing that already.

You like the way Han eats because he stores food in his cheeks like a squirrel, usually that action would give you the ick but with him you find it quite endearing. Once you both finish eating at the restaurant he takes you to a pier where there’s pretty lights near the water. It was a nice day to go out on a walk so he grabbed your hand and led the way down the path. You guys talked so much for hours about any and everything, you talked for so long that you ended up watching the sunset together, then looked at the stars. When you looked down and noticed that you’ve been holding hands with him this whole time, but you didn’t want to point it out to Han incase he’d let go.

You’ve spent a total of only 5 hours with this man but you really do feel as though you’ve known him your whole life. He was so fun to talk to, handsome, and literally the sweetest person ever, it made you question how someone this perfect could even be single. You really couldn’t wait any longer for him to end up in your bed tonight and that’s exactly what you planned to happen. As the night progresses you ask him if he wants to come back to your place for the night. He looks surprised yet obliges and drives back to your apartment. It was pretty late at night and you only had your tiny lamp in the kitchen on, so you couldn’t see much of where you were going. You turn around to face Han who’s been staring you up and down this whole time.

You didn’t even have much time to take off your jacket before Han’s lips were all over yours. His hands roamed all over your body and yours were now tangled in his messy blonde hair. He startles you for a second when he picks you up and lifts you onto the marble kitchen countertop, not breaking the kiss once. He bites down on your lower lip slightly, making you gasp so he can easily slip his tongue in you. His movements were gentle and he kisses you so passionately, one of his hands comes up behind your neck and the other is stroking the apex of your thigh. As you both pull away from kissing, he stops to stare at you for the longest second.

“You are so beautiful y/n,” he says, stroking your hair and tucking some behind your ear, then he kisses your ear and licks it. He continues peppering a few more kisses downwards and to your neck, beginning to suck lightly, causing you to let out a quiet moan. He leaves a couple small hickies around your neck and kisses your lips once again. You tug at his T-shirt and motion for him to take it off, he does as he’s told and removes it from his body. You get a faint look at his chest since it’s a such little bit of light in the kitchen, from what you can see however, he looks perfect. When he comes closer, you can feel his rock solid abs, you know he works out but you weren’t expecting him to be this fit.

You go back to making out for awhile and his hands are now laid on your chest. He cups both of your boobs in his hands and kneads them through your thin shirt, he realizes this isn’t enough for him so he slides his hands underneath your shirt. He ran his fingers against your nipples and starts to pinch them lightly, making you moan directly into his mouth. He groans when you bring your hand lower to his pelvis, trying to locate his belt so you can tell him to take it off. You finally reach something you presume to be leather and you grab it, bringing his body closer to you in the process.

“You want me to take this off huh?” Han asks, pointing to his belt but all you see is his erect dick print through his jeans.

You nod your head profusely, “yes pleasee, right now!”

He grins at you while slowly taking off his belt, throwing it down on the floor and now he’s stroking his cock through his pants. You hear him groan a little bit as you can see him palming himself, wanting to take him in your mouth so bad.

“Let me give you head,” you say almost desperately, you didn’t mean for it to sound so needy but you really wanted— no needed his cock.

“Okay,” he says smiling back at you, “sounds great to me.”

You get up from the kitchen counter and now position yourself on the floor, on your knees. You never pictured yourself to be the one sucking a random guy off Tinder’s dick but hey, things just so happen to turn out that way. You unzip Han’s pants and gently pull them down, he was wearing pink supreme boxers and you expected nothing less from him. You pull down his boxers too and his erect cock springs up out of them like a slinky. Eyes growing wide in awe as you couldn’t wait for his giant, thick cock to go into your mouth. You start to stroke his length and realize that one hand won’t be enough to do the job, you have to use two to get a good firm grasp around it and even then it’s still a few inches off.

You contemplate how you’re even going to fit all of him into your mouth but you think of the consequences later. You continue pumping his cock with your hands and he moans lowly under his breath. You lick the tip of his cock and he winces a little, that must be his sensitive spot. You suck on the tip and guide your mouth to slowly take in more of his cock, keeping a suction-tight grip on him as you keep lowering your head. You get to a point where you start to physically choke and gag on his cock, your saliva was getting everywhere now, all over your chin, your chest, his cock, and some even spilled on the floor. You know you have to be a good girl and take all of him but you never had someone this big before.

“You have such a nice dick,” you blurt out while taking a break, wanting to please him more than anything.

“Thank you baby,” Han smiles down at you while you bring his cock back into your mouth, this time breathing through your nose you have a better chance at taking him all. You were successful and managed to get most of it inside your mouth, maybe just a couple centimeters off. You kept at it, sucking his cock like your life literally depended on it, shooting your head back and forth making you feel dizzy.

“Mmm yeah… that’s it baby… just like that-” Han moans out for you with his eyes closed shut and head thrown back, you’re making him feel so good right now.

“I think I’m gonna cum y/n…”

You continue what you’ve been doing for the past 15 minutes or so, sucking his cock at an even faster rate. You look up at him and give him a sultry look with your eyes, you need to feel his cum all over you.

“Please cum on my face daddy,” you tell him, you used to let your ex cum on your face all the time and you were craving for that kind of thing at the moment. You keep deepthroating him and making gagging noises in the process, wanting him to know just how hard you’re working for his cum. He lets out a long moan and keeps saying he’s about to cum, you tap his dick on your tongue so you can get a taste of his load shooting out and then… you suddenly go blind. Han’s load comes out so fast that it got everywhere, causing some of it to get into your eye. You couldn’t see for a bit and rubbed your eye, feeling a thick, sticky substance on your left cheek. Han’s cum was now painted all over your face, some even got on your shoulder and landed on the floor. You smiled at how much cum you caused to come out his dick, feeling awfully proud of yourself.

You get up from your knees and start kissing again, he brings you back to the counter you were originally sitting on and he toys with the waistband of your skirt. He pulls your skirt down and begins rubbing your pussy through your underwear, dragging his fingers along your slit and teasing you. You whimper as you buck your hips up, wanting to feel his fingers on your clit. He finally moves your panties to the side and starts rubbing his middle finger against your swollen clit.

“Damn, you’re wet as fuck…” he says, looking at your glistening, wet pussy. He circles your clit and spits on it, mixing your juices with his saliva. He then dips his finger inside your hole, you let out a moan as he starts pushing his finger in and out. The sound of his fingers going in your wet pussy sound so dirty yet so blissful. He kisses you as he keeps fingering you, spreading you open with another finger. You’re such a moaning mess and it’s all thanks to Han’s wonderful fingers. You were arching your back at the sensation you were feeling, his thumb is now rubbing your clit while two of his fingers are still inside. You wanted his cock so badly, but you were going to have to ask nicely for it.

“I need you…” you whine to Han, you don’t know why you were too shy to say what you needed the most though.

“Need what baby?” He asks with his fingers still deep inside your sopping cunt, you were aching for something bigger and it’s making you go crazy.

“Your cock… need your cock, please!” You practically beg at this point for it. Han’s smile grew wider as he saw how needy you were already acting for him.

“As you wish pretty girl,” he says, taking his fingers out and licking the juices off of them one by one. He takes his cock in his hand and rubs it along your folds, he feels how soaking wet you are and it’s already enough to make him want to burst. He doesn’t think he’s a fast cummer (is that a word?) but for you, he’d nut instantly. He slides his thick, long cock into your little pussy, making you audibly gasp in pain and pleasure.

The size of him is enough to make you want to never be able to walk again, but you think once he’s done with you he’ll be leaving you permanently bed ridden.

“Just relax baby, you can take it all trust me..” Han assures you as he continues to slide his length inside, your wetness mixed with the sounds of his dick makes for the perfect porn audio. Your legs were spreading wide open and rested on his shoulders, he was taking nice and slow strokes at first. He wants you to become more adjusted to his size, he’s finally able to get all of himself in. You look down at your stomach to see a giant bulge, his cock was so big that he practically took up half of your torso.

“Ready baby?” Han whispers in your ear, asking for the okay to start thrusting deeper into you. You nod as you were finally getting used to him, he goes a little faster and starts to build a steady pace. His cock is hitting the back of your walls nicely and you feel every inch of him inside you. The cross necklace he was still wearing dangled over you, which was pretty ironic for the sinful act you two were committing at the moment. Wrapping your arms around his neck as he moves deeper into you, stretching you out like the little whore you are. You feel yourself growing wetter with each thrust and he’s grabbing your waist tightly with both hands.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good… my god..” Han says moaning, his eyes are closed again as he keeps fucking your tight pussy. You took his cock so well, you were so proud of yourself.

“Your cock feels amazing daddy,” you whimper out to him as you continue moaning his name, feeling like you’re about to cum already. Han’s breath becomes more irregular and his strokes are getting messier, you can tell he’s reaching his climax as well.

“Let’s cum together.” Han coaxes, holding your hand while fucking into you, his cock fits all the way inside without hurting you now and all you feel is immense pleasure. You nod your head in agreement with him and focus on reaching your high. A wave of ecstasy washes over you as Han hits a certain spot in you, his dick is so big that it can reach little places you never felt before, it’s an incredible feeling. Your head swings back as you feel your orgasm approaching, you let out a few curse words and catch your breath. Han feels his release coming too and quickly pulls out, he pumps his cock for a little bit with his right hand and watches his load shoot out onto your stomach. He lets out an erotic groan as he finishes off his last bit of cum and strokes his cock a little more.

“Fuck that was the best sex I’ve ever had..” Han says while panting, grabbing your face to pull into you a breathless kiss.

“Yeah, that was definitely amazing,” you respond after pulling away, smiling at his first impressions of you.

It was now midnight and you were both exhausted, you two were too fucked out to do anything else and Han was way too tired to head home that night. You didn’t mind Han staying over at your place, to be honest, it felt pretty normal. As you both got into bed he gave you tons of forehead kisses and cradled you to sleep, his embrace felt safe and protecting. You never wanted to leave his presence and neither did he.

It was the early hours of the morning and the sun is beaming on your face through the sheer white curtains. You wake up to a familiar smell coming from your kitchen, it was the smell of eggs and pancakes cooking. You put on some clothes quickly to head to your kitchen, you see Han in nothing but his underwear cooking you breakfast. You looked at the clock and saw that it was only 7:04 am, how is he already awake at this time of the morning? You make your way on over to him and give him a chaste kiss, telling him good morning. He finishes up cooking and grabs some plates for the both of you. You couldn’t believe your eyes right now, your Tinder date that you just hooked up with last night is now cooking you breakfast. You want to feel like you’re living in a dream but the more you keep blinking the more real this situation feels.

“Ready to eat babe?” Han asks, handing you a plate full of food. You nod, still trying to process everything that’s going on but you don’t want to keep questioning it. You sit at the table with Han and eat your food. You both talk as though everything is normal, still making little jokes with each other like yesterday’s date. The food he made was pretty good and you were wondering what other hidden skills he may have been hiding. You’re now questioning what could be wrong with him since he’s so perfect, why hasn’t someone like him not been snatched up yet? As you finish eating you head back upstairs, Han follows you.

“What’re you doing?” You ask him, turning around to face him in confusion.

“Im just following where you’re going,” he admits sheepishly.

“But why?” You genuinely want to know why he’s considered still being here and isn’t fleeing after finally getting what he wanted.

“I want to stay here for a while,” he says while looking away at something else, he was a bit shy to ask if he could stay over for another day.

“For how long?” You ask, wondering if he’s serious about his infatuation with you.

“I- I don’t know, can I just stay for one more night? Please y/n?” He holds your hand, gently caressing and rubbing it.

You feel conflicted, on one hand you want someone you can feel connected to on a deeper level but the other hand is making you want to keep this relationship as no strings attached. You sigh as you see the glint in his eyes, his eyes were all it took for you to give into him.

“Okay” you say, he smiles as he hears your swift response. He presses a soft kiss against your lips and lets you lead the way back to your room.

Four days have passed and Han is still staying in your apartment with you. You decided you didn’t actually hate his company and that it was just the fear of commitment that made you reluctant. Han was different though, he brought a side out of you that no one else has. He brings you flowers, makes you laugh until your stomach hurts, listens to your problems/needs/wants/desires, shuts up when he’s supposed to, and does anything you say at the drop of a hat.

He’s the perfect guy for you and you met him on something you wouldn’t have tried if it wasn’t for your best friend. You’re still in shock by how you and Han are basically in a relationship now, I mean who stays at someone’s house for almost a week if they weren’t falling in love? You should be happy yet you’re nervous, you’re nervous about telling Ryujin, what if she thinks you’re moving too fast? You didn’t tell anyone about this “relationship” yet since you’ve never rushed into things this quickly with someone.

Han was a great person and you knew that with every fiber of your being, you just didn’t know if others would see that through just a few days of talking. You know you’re going to have to do it at some point since you’re actually thinking about getting serious with him. Han has been nothing more than amazing to you and if everyone else doesn’t see that then they’re crazy, you can’t convince everyone to like him but you start to feel as though it won’t be an issue for him. You think he’ll fit in just fine with everyone in due time ♡

[alisonwritesimagines]

Please Don't Be In Love With Someone Else ~LA!Shanks x Reader x LA!Mihawk Imagine~

Summary: You keep waiting for Shanks. But someone new comes along and suddenly, you're not so lonely.

Author’s Note: You read the title correctly. I'm evilly laughing right now as you read this in pain. Also, this is technically a rewrite of the angst ending cause the one I wrote and in my drafts is more fluff than angst.

Angst Ending to I Was Enchanted to Meet You

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: angst, fluff, but angst to all you Shanks lovers

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

It had been years since you last saw Shanks. And it's been a year since you last saw Luffy. Ever since he was old enough to sail off in the world to find the One Piece to become King of the Pirates, you had been by yourself since. Of course you did a lot for your small village to keep you occupied but you still missed your boys.

You were tending to your garden as it was time for you to harvest before it became spoiled and over grown. That was until you heard someone say something behind you.

“You don’t seem like someone who can harm a fly."

You turned around to see the warlord Dracule Mihawk standing before you. You stood up straight to seemed less intimidated.

“I can hurt a fly. Don’t think I’m good at harming anyone else,” you tell him as you crossed your arms.

“I see.”

“I know who you are so what do you want?” You asked.

“I was sent to kill you but in all honesty, I don’t think I can kill you. You’re too beautiful to be killed,” he tells you.

“Who sent you to kill me?” You asked, now worried. You’ve stayed in the island since you were born. Not only that, you stayed even when Luffy left.

“Not to worry now. I don't have any intentions to kill you," he tells you.

"Then what are you still doing here?"

"I'm curious to see why someone would send me to go after you."

"Feel free to stay. Just to tell you, it's going to be quite boring," you tell him.

Mihawk stayed around the next day to watch over you. He didn't understand why Vice Admiral Garp would want a warlord like him to kill a sweet little thing like yourself. You did nothing of the sort that would be considered dangerous or even pirate bounty level dangerous.

"Ow!" You yelled as you accidently burnt yourself with the pan.

"What happened? What's wrong?" Mihawk asked you as he rushed inside your home.

"Just burned myself," you tell him.

Mihawk quickly grabbed your bucket of water before gently putting your finger in the cool liquid.

"Thanks," you tell him.

"Of course."

"I made extras if you'd like. I got used to cooking for two," you tell him.

"Was it for you and your past lover?" Mihawk asked you.

"Not really surprisingly. I used to take care of a little boy who used to live with me who had a bottomless stomach. He wanted to become a pirate so he set sail a year ago," you tell him.

"I see."

"So, dinner?"

"Why not."

—

Mihawk stayed for a couple more weeks before he needed to back out to sea. You stood on the deck as you watched Mihawk get ready to leave.

"So I guess this is farewell?" You asked him.

"For now. I will be back in a month at most," he tells you.

"To finish me off and claim your berry?" You asked.

"No. To come see you again," Mihawk said before sailing off. You shook your head at him before walking back to your home.

You assumed Mihawk was lying or joking when he said he was coming back to see you. But to your surprise, you opened your door to see him standing before you.

"Brought you some new seeds for you to grow in your garden," Mihawk tells you.

"I'm guessing you're staying for dinner?" You asked with a small smile.

"If you'd have me," Mihawk said. You nodded before letting him inside your house.

-

As much as you didn't want to admit, you fell for Mihawk. Even though part of you hoped for Shanks to come back, you appreciated the fact that no matter how long Mihawk was gone for or even if he was wounded badly, he came back to you. Even though Shanks would come back to you, he hasn't for years.

"Will you be mine?" Mihawk asked you one night. After a midnight stroll, you both headed back to your home. Mihawk stopped you from walking inside by holding your hand.

"What?" You asked in shock.

"Be mine. I've fallen for you Y/n. And I swear to you, I would never let anything happen to you," Mihawk tells you.

"Alright. I'll be yours," you tell him. Mihawk gave you a small smile before pulling you towards him.

"May I kiss you?" Mihawk asked you.

"Yes."

Mihawk cupped your cheek with his hand before leaning in to kiss you.

-

Shanks rushed over to your home after being away for so many years. He was excited to tell you his adventures and was looking forward to seeing you once again. He knocked on your door, his heart pounding in excitement.

Instead of seeing you, he saw someone else open the door. His smile faltered as he stared at the stranger in front of him.

"May I help you?" The stranger asked him.

"My apologies. I was hoping to find Y/n L/n? The woman who lived here?" Shanks asked.

"Oh. I'm sorry. She's been gone for quite sometime. She left the village I want to say two years ago? Her and her husband moved to another island."

"Her husband?"

"Yes. I'm surprised she married a warlord but he had been kind to the village whenever he was here," the stranger pointed out.

"Do you happened to know her husband's name?"

"I believe it was Dracule Mihawk."

—

Shanks made it to Mihawk's castle where he knew you would be at. After demanding to see you, Mihawk came out to talk to him.

"You should know my wife is resting," Mihawk tells him.

"You took her from me," Shanks angrily tell him.

"I didn't take her from anyone. When I met her, she was alone," Mihawk informs him.

"She never told you about me?" Shanks asked.

"No she has. I just never told her that I knew you."

"Please. Let me see her!" Shanks asked.

"Let me see if she's well enough to move," Mihawk said.

"Is she sick?" Shanks asked.

"Not entirely."

Shanks waited anxiously for you to come down. His eyes widen when he saw Mihawk helping you down. Your stomach was large but he knew that it was because you were pregnant. And what's worse was that it wasn't Shanks's child you were carrying. It was Mihawk's child.

"Shanks?" You asked in shock.

"Hi, Y/n."

-

You sat in the garden with Shanks alone so you two could talk. Shanks stared at you, admiring your beauty once more. While you thought you were alone, Shanks knew that Mihawk was watching nearby.

“Are you happy my love?” Shanks asked you as he held your hand.

“I am. Hawk Eye makes me happy,” you tell him with a small smile.

“I’m happy that you’re happy.”

“I did wait for you Shanks. I really did. But I feared that if I waited any longer, I’d be too old for you,” you tell him with a frown.

“You could never be too old for me. You could have white hair and many wrinkles and I’d still think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” Shanks tells you. You smiled at him before tearing up.

“I loved you Shanks. And I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you longer."

“Don’t apologize my love. I’m sorry I didn’t come back to you sooner,” Shanks said. You nodded before taking off your makeshift necklace that held the ring Shanks gave to you. You handed it over to Shanks before kissing his cheek.

“I hope life treats you well and I hope you find a woman who will love you endlessly as much as I did,” you tell him.

“And if Hawk Eyes dares to lay a hand on you, come find me. I’ll protect you.”

“I know you will."

"So this is goodbye then huh?" Shanks asked you.

"If you find Luffy, tell him I miss him and love him dearly. And that, he's more than welcome to visit me or find me whenever he wants," you tell him. After all, Luffy was yours and Shanks's unofficial son and you two were his unofficial parents.

"Goodbye, Shanks,” you tell him before giving him a kiss on the cheek once more.

“Goodbye, my love.”

—

You sat on the couch in your lounge room waiting for your son to arrive with his new fiancée. Twenty five years had gone by and you had lived your life. Dracule sat next to you as you both waited for your son to come home. Now that your husband has retired from being a pirate, he had spent his time with you while your children explored the world.

“I wonder what she’ll be like,” you tell your husband.

“I trust his judgement. After all, I chose well didn’t I?” Dracule joked.

“You most certainly did,” you smiled.

“Mom! Dad! I’m home!” You heard your son say.

“Over here!” You called from where you were.

You smiled at your son the moment he walked in but your eyes widen from the sight of the woman next to him. Not only did she have the exact same hair as Shanks, but she also had the same eyes as him. It was no doubt that she was Shanks's daughter.

“Mother. Father. This is my fiancée, May,” your son said proudly. You smiled at the woman before getting up from your chair to greet her.

“It’s nice to meet you, May,” you tell her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mrs. Mihawk.”

“Please call me Y/n,” you tell her as you shook her hand. You noticed her necklace with a ring on it. It looked exactly like the one Shanks gave to you from years before.

“I like your necklace,” you say.

“Oh thank you. My father gave it to me. Said it was his prize possession,” she tells you. You felt your heart break a little from what she said.

���Will we be able to meet your parents soon?” You asked.

“Unfortunately no. My mother passed away from childbirth and my father passed away not too long ago,” she tells you. You frown from hearing that.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright. I’m really glad to have met your son,” May tells you. You smiled at her before giving her a hug.

“Well, I know my son will treat you well. And if he doesn’t, you tell me,” you tell her. May smiled at you before looking at your son.

At the end of the night, you stood outside on your balcony as you stared up at the stars.

Maybe this was the universe telling you that in another life, you and Shanks end up together. But you did wish he didn’t have to be gone so soon. You wished that he would’ve came back to you sooner and maybe you two could've had the future you two wanted together.

[wonily]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀🎀﹕butterflies, butterflies!

♡ — giving enhypen butterflies

warnings : mentions of food & metaphorically passing out (ni-ki's part)

[ lily’s rambles : another repost from my old blog <3 this was one of my favorites and... i wrote it during my first period class ]

other members under the cut!

heeseung !

when heeseung put up an ad for a roommate (to split costs because he’s a broke college student :<) he did not expect a very, very cute person to see the ad. when he opened the door the day you were supposed to take a tour of the apartment, he did not expect to see a very, very cute person in front of him.

except he did :D and he forgot how to breathe. you were so cute !! and you were just smiling at him from his doorway with the biggest, kindest, brightest smile ever and he had to shake himself out of his trance to welcome you into his apartment. and that’s when he saw the steam rising and he could’ve sworn that his heart exploded.

you were holding a tray of ramen :( the same one he said he really liked on the ad he had posted. he had to stop himself from dramatically falling to his knees and clutching his heart because butterflies just exploded inside of him because wowie he thinks he just met the one, the only love of his life.

jay !

GAHH!!! you’ve broken him from the moment he laid eyes on you but he’s never going to let you know that. you were a new employee at the cute little dessert cafe he frequented and the moment he walked in, you took his breath away and replaced it with butterflies.

considering it was your first day, you didn’t know his usual coffee order so he took it as an opportunity to talk to you and when you told him it was your first day, he even asked you what your favorite dessert was !!

you shyly handed him his order and he retreated to the table that he always sat at (that was seemingly reserved just for him at this point) and his coffee tasted even better today because you had made it.

before he left, he bought the dessert that you had said was your favorite, smiled kindly, and handed it to you, now effectively leaving you flustered and, because he comes in everyday, him buying you a dessert became a tradition because he was still a little too scared to ask you out :< but it’s all worth it because the butterflies in his stomach go crazy around you.

jake !

he met you at the dog park while he was with layla :( layla was so happy to be running out and about, especially with her other friends that she had met the other times she’d come to this dog park.

but !! she spotted a new little dog shyly hiding behind someone (your) leg and immediately ran up to it and barked happily. the dog whimpered, still scared of its new surroundings and jake, seeing this, ran to tell layla to relax a little and he did, but he immediately closed his mouth after because he saw you and you were so cute :(

you giggled and assured him that it was okay and your dog would eventually warm up to layla and he just nodded because he was too scared to open his mouth, because he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from blurting out “YOU’RE CUTE”.

but he eventually started conversing with you because your dog was now besties with layla and they were practically attached to each other and then, he regained his confidence and asked you to go to the park again because layla would miss your dog :(((

sunghoon !

there’s no specific thing that you do that gives sunghoon butterflies… it’s more like your whole existence just makes his heart flutter. for example, when he first saw you outside the ice rink.

it was just a passing glance, he was just scoping out the area to make sure that he didn’t have to hide and the moment his eyes fell on you, he actually thought he was part of a kdrama where they play excessive music during an intense staring scene except he was the only one staring.

but of course, life is not a kdrama and he entered the ice skating rink. but, it turns out, he was absolutely positively wrong because his life is a kdrama !! he was just minding his own business, doing a little twirl in the air when he felt himself collide with someone and he immediately turned around to see you on the ice.

he helped you up, stammering apologies profusely and he was absolutely mortified when he realized that you were the very, very cute person he had seen outside. he was kind of frozen for a couple seconds as you assured him that you were fine and :DDD sunghoon’s back !! so what does he do? he takes on his ice prince duties and offers to buy you a hot chocolate (and when he doesn’t buy one for himself, he says it’s because he doesn’t like hot chocolate but that’s a lie !! he’s just feeling all warm and fluffy inside because you give him butterflies !!)

sunoo !

sunoo didn’t even realize he had a crush on you :< he’s always assumed that the fluttering feeling in his stomach when he saw you were simply friendly feelings because he’s always had such a bright outlook on life.

but oh, did he forget how to breathe when one day, you walked into class and gave him the brightest smile he’s ever seen. it was like fresh flowers were blooming out of his chest and butterflies were fluttering around in his heart and that was when he decided your smile was his happiness.

and from that day on, he tried his best to make you smile because the only thing that made him happier than your smile was the fact that he was the reason for your precious smile.

he literally lives for your smile :> if the two of you weren’t close before, you certainly are now because bit by bit you became friends and you, of course, have no problem with it because he’s literal sunshine !! and you smile whenever he smiles so :3 it’s a win-win for both of you– you smile and his heart goes boom boom !!

jungwon !

jungwonnie was just walking home one day from school when he felt raindrops starting to fall from the sky :( and he didn’t want to get wet so he zoomed into the nearest flower shop only to find himself face to face with the cutest person he had ever seen in his life (you, who quite coincidentally goes to his school & whom he’s had the biggest crush on for a good part of high school)

his cheeks went all pink, which is saying something because his cheeks are naturally rosy, and he stammered an apology. your smile made him so flustered and he was so scared that you’d think he was weird :( and he just zoomed right back out of there.

but then !! then !! he heard a tiny voice shouting back at him, “jungwon, jungwon, wait!!” and he turned around to see you running after him, with an umbrella over your head. you handed him the umbrella, flashed a smile, and ran back into the flower shop with your hands over your head.

jungwon just stood there stunned for the longest time before he realized he was soaked in rainwater because the umbrella you had given him was held loosely by his side. he ended up running home that day with your umbrella with the biggest smile on his face and that night, as he laid in bed, he couldn’t get your smile or your kindness or the way your hand brushed his out of his mind.

ni-ki !

it was a cold and windy day when he first felt the butterflies but it was a very welcome feeling because he felt like he was going to freeze into a popsicle while waiting in line for bungeoppang.

but when he walks up to the bungeoppang stall, he’s internally freaking out because oh my gosh !! the person working (you, a high school student in need of money) is so cute !!

his throat felt all dry when he tried to ask for one bungeoppang and when he finally did, you laughed and he nearly passed out from how pretty your laugh sounded. and then your hand brushed against his when you handed him his bungeoppang, which was bundled warmly in a napkin and he only managed to splutter a little ‘thank you!’ before practically zooming away, cheeks burning.

he came back every single day after that without a fail. he eventually got to the point of holding cute little conversations with you but it took some time because he was so shy :&lt;

he always managed to slip in a little joke in your conversations just to hear you laugh and warm happiness would bubble in his chest whenever you did. and don’t tell anyone but he was so glad you never really questioned him.

of course, you just thought he really, really liked bungeoppang and don’t get him wrong, of course he loves bungeoppang (especially now because it brought him to meet you) but he likes you so much more.

[softeninglooks]

levi ackerman | one of those mornings

reposting this levi x reader one shot i wrote some time ago on my old blog because i can’t remember the email i used to log onto that account and i really enjoyed writing it back then. minor corrections included 🌷☀️

“You’re staring.”

A hoarse chuckle left your lips while your eyelids were lifting slowly, lazy rays of sunshine falling onto your face, inundating your beautiful eyes with light; even half-asleep, his intent gaze had burned into your peaceful features, gently drawing you away from slumberous half-consciousness and into a languorous waking. Dawn greeted you with the warmth of a bourgeoning spring day and the caress of grey eyes that held your whole world in them.

“Tch,” Levi breathed out softly, fingers sweeping a few strands of hair away from your face; his lips weren’t quite a smile yet, but he couldn’t take his eyes off you. “Can’t I enjoy the only moments you’re not covered in titan shit?”

“Fair enough,” your palm covered Levi’s hand, which you brought to your lips, leaving a tender kiss on it. “Good morning, Levi.”

“Good morning, Y/n.”

Your fingers interlaced, the Captain leaning forward to plant a feathery kiss upon your forehead, his pointy nose barely bumping into your skin. He regained his place beside you, a little closer than before, the tangled sheets you shared agreeably shielding you from the morning breeze flowing in through the half-open windows.

“You woke up earlier, didn’t you?” you mused, moving your hand up over Levi’s taut forearms, then neck, until it ended on his cheek.

“Yes. The kettle’s on.”

“Thank you for not waking me up. And coming back.”

“I couldn’t miss this.”

Levi’s unconcealed sincerity—that same deep care he couldn’t always say but always expressed whenever he took care of his soldiers and friends—sent shivers down the beating walls of your heart. If any goodness existed in this world, then it lay within Levi’s soul, the hopeful glow of stars guiding a solitary wanderer radiating off his small frame. In spite of what others said and imagined, you knew the strength of Levi’s kindness, unstoppably pulsing even behind every harsh word and violent action, and ordering him to always stand back up, no matter the cost. He had given away everything—even his humanity, some thought. Yet you knew, better than anyone else, how deeply human Levi Ackerman was.

Your fingers threaded in Levi’s silky raven hair, which you brushed away from his forehead lovingly, your eyes locked in a quiet mutual understanding. Levi tried his best, but words didn’t come easy to the short Captain; so you would talk instead, feeling his grip tighten over your skin when his heart was touched like never before; or you wouldn’t talk, and let yourself be in the moment, which spoke louder than sentences.

For the longest time, Levi had been seen as a weapon—a soldier, unreadable, harsh, cold, efficient. Humanity’s strongest, with death-sowing hands and crimson-stained blades. But then, for the first in his entire miserable, brutal life, someone had glimpsed the man within. The man whose dedicated heart was yet to be buried, and who had never believed there could be redemption for someone like him—someone whose sole purpose had become to avenge. But then you came; and suddenly, someone was asking him about his mother, about the sky he would contemplate at night with Isabel and Furlan, about his favourite kind of tea. And that had never happened before. And if Levi could’ve broken the thick silence that had been his companion for far too long, he would’ve told you that you had brought him back to life. But not yet, not when a part of him still battled to keep his head over the water, but one day, he would. Perhaps on a morning just like this, when there would be no more war.

But for now, lying in bed together, your fingers carding through his slightly dishevelled hair, his hand lingering on your bare arm, was enough. Sooner or later, the day would come when he would finally gather all the words he needed.

[theeninthkeye]

Noticing is a Net for Catching Magick: Spiritual Discernment, The Magicians Maxim, and How to Know Who You're Talking to.

Good evening, Tumblr friends! I am back with another old blog repost. This one is a bit longer and perhaps a bit...juicier.

I wrote this one October 17th, 2023, during a very rough patch in my life. I was dealing with a painful schisming of my friend group, which had resulted in me having to move on from some unhealthy relationships. I was feeling angry, let down, and defensive. I had opened up about my faith to someone in this group that I trusted, only to realize the hard way that they were not a safe person to be vulnerable with. It left me open to a bit of mockery, and I wanted to "bite back."

These complex emotions certainly come through in this piece, and some of my language is a bit... spicy. In the spirit of being authentic, however, I choose to repost without changing it too much. This time, I removed an announcement about an art show I was vending at. I think it's important not to alter these TOO much, though. They stand as a testament to how far I've come and how much I've matured.

Overall, I still agree with these takes, even if I presented them in a somewhat aggressive and self-agrandizing way! I implore you, lovely readers, to keep this bit of context in mind as you read.

~~~~~~~

Today's blog is about Spiritual Discernment, the Magicians Maxim, and generally how we can know who and what we are interacting with when it comes to spirits.

The short answer, you just have to get out there and practice. What you read in books will only take you so far. I aim to touch on some ways we can practice this, as well as a few other elements that are not often talked about when it comes to practicing witchcraft- especially when your practice takes you into the realm of Theurgy and other forms of spirit contact.

There is the pervading belief that spirits are either strictly good or strictly evil. As a youth, I was exposed to this line of thinking immediately upon discovering the very concept of spirituality itself. Spirits and Spirituality are bread and butter. In Christianity we see this idea of good vs evil spirits in nearly every aspect of the religion. We also see this in modern New Ageism, what with the rise of alien conspiracies and the like. It would seem you can't have any sort of spiritual narrative without this dichotomy tacked onto it.

....But what if I told you this might not be the case?

Today's entry will definitely tow the line of UPG (Unverifiable Personal Gnosis), I am not trying to change any minds here. I know the idea of good vs. evil in the spirit world is an extremely important belief that gives some folks a sense of purpose. If you're on the CORRECT side of spirit, then the Godhead/Universe will favor you, right? I can understand why people would want to gravitate towards this.... The majority of us like to feel good, useful, justified, and generally not evil.

However, I have always thought this line of reasoning is far too simple. Things in mundane life are rarely that simple, so why must spirit be different?

​Personal Experience

As a child, I really struggled with my gifts. I am a clairvoyant, as is my mother, her mother, her grandmother, and so on. In fact, I get my clairvoyance from both sides of my family. Both my father and mother's lives have been steeped in mysticism and strange happenings. They chose to ignore it (or at the very least acknowledge the existence and stay as far away as possible), but for one reason or another I was not afforded that luxury. In my case, the spirits did not give me a chance to block them out. 

As a very young child I would experience things in the darkness of my room or the stillness of the forest that I did not understand and the adults in my life didn't give me any helpful answers either. There was a variety of responses that was usually along the lines of "ghosts aren't real, you just have an over active imagination". However, once in a while I would be faced with the most dreadful explanation a child in my position could be faced with.... It is the DEVIL sending evil spirits to haunt me and I must pray to God/Jesus for protection.

This declaration felt like spiritual warfare to me, at the time a young child, barely even six years old. I remember being frozen in terror in my bed as the swirling mass of twisted shapes, lights, and faces danced behind my eyes and in the solitude of my room. I remember crying and refusing to sleep in my own room because I knew that if I was alone in the dark, my little body could not stop my spirit from traveling to other places as I slept.

I tried prayer, I tried asking Jesus for help. I never got a response. The cold silence that hung in the air when I would pray to the Christian god was deafening. I tried and tried and tried to get a response, any response, yet it never came. I remember asking myself "What does the Devil want with me? Why has god abandoned me?"

Heavy questions, especially for a child under 10 years of age.

Eventually, I just learned to live with it. I learned ways to block it out. I'd sleep with the lights on and my cat in my bed or I'd go to my parents room. I slept in my parents room until I was nearly 13, out of fear of what lay in wait in the darkness. I also learned not to talk about it, because people just didn't understand. The experiences would happen to me still and I would confide in my mother, yet I still did not understand.

Then, in my 12th year of life, I finally found what I had been looking for. It was late summer, as I recall, when my mother and I had gone to the local Mall for a day out. Eating my french fries in the food court, I look up and see it. A metaphysical shop, full of beautiful statuary and glittering stones in the front window. This place was called the Wishing Realm and in that moment I knew I had to investigate. My mother, being a passionate collector of stones and fossils, happily obliged. We stepped into the store, the tinkle of the bells at the door stirring excitement in me. Although I could not consciously articulate it at the time, I knew deep down I would finally find the answers I sought for in this place.

We browsed the stock and my little mind was blown wide open. There were crystals I had never heard of before, immense statues of dragons and the Gods of my most beloved mythologies, shelves lined with books with titles like "Magick" and "Spellcraft". They even had preserved bat hearts, bones, and feathers. My mom bought me a small crystal that day and the woman behind the counter, with twinkling eye, gifted me a small bag of stones meant for Scorpios-my Sun sign. I could tell from the way she looked at me that she, too, was like me.

I remember looking over my stones in the car and being so excited to return. I hadn't wanted to leave! I wanted to know more, I needed to know more. That night I placed my stones under my pillow and prepared to sleep. Somehow, I was not scared to sleep that night. It was as if something was calling me, I knew I needed to sleep in my own bed that night, in the darkness.

I slipped peacefully into my dreams and found myself back at the mall, everything was exactly the same as it had been earlier that day only now it was dark, the shudders were pulled down in front of the stores. The mall was closed. I remember thinking to myself "How did I get back to the Mall?". It was so vivid, I believed I was actually there. I began walking and I found this hidden corridor that I had never seen before. As I walked, I saw a golden throne at the end of the corridor. A man wearing white sat upon the throne and a woman clothed in a beautiful blue shawl stood next to him. The man's skin was green. He lifted a hand and beckoned me closer. I stood at his feet, feeling as small as a rabbit before him.

He looked at me with dark eyes and said nothing. I offered a small hello and in a thundering voice he told me his name is Osiris. A group of figures moved out from the shadows to make a circle around me. I recognized them all as the Egyptian pantheon, the Gods that weigh the human heart against the feather to allow passage into the spirit world. I had seen them in my mother's art history book.

Osiris smiled at me and told me many things, things which I forgot upon waking, but the one thing I managed to retain was "You are a child of the gods, you are to walk this path".

From that moment on, it became clear to me that these experiences were not just my imagination, nor were they some spiteful devil. This had nothing to do with the Christian god, I was not being punished. I was given a task- a task to seek knowledge and share what I learn. I awoke the next morning and made it my mission to become a witch. The rest is history.

.....So did this actually happen? Is any of this real? Am I insane? Honestly, I can't say for sure! I often times find myself wondering all of those questions, even to this day. I've had phases where I've felt like it's all made up. I've had people tell me its all Satan's lies. I've had people tell me I am psychotic and should be locked up. I've had people tell me the opposite too- that I'm a demigod, that I'm the chosen one, etc. I don't think any of these things are entirely true, but perhaps not entirely false either. I think the truth lies somewhere in the middle. I would encourage you, dear reader, to assume that at least some of this is bullshit because that's the safer option. 

Spiritual Discernment: The Nitty Gritty

Spiritual Discernment is a concept that you've likely heard of if you're Catholic/Christian. It is the ability for spiritual leaders to know if something is God or the Devil, it is the ability to speak for God and pass His message along. Spiritual Discernment is not just for preacher men in the house of the Christian god, however. It is something anyone can possess if they so choose. Some folks are born with it, such as myself, and others have to work to achieve it. Both ways are wonderful and valid, one way is not superior to the other and both ways have their own pros and cons.

Those born with this ability, such as myself, actually have it harder in some ways. The experiences are fantastical and feel so real. This can get in the way and can often times lead the practitioner astray. If you've frequented any New Age communities, you've likely heard of 'Ego Traps' which is when someone gets too wrapped up in their Unverifiable Personal Gnosis to function as a pleasant and well adjusted human. Those who can avoid/work through ego traps, however, can become very skilled in this ability.

Those who must work hard for this ability will often times find themselves doubting. I've seen folks get very depressed, nihilistic, and even bitter about it. It takes regular practice and dedication to rewire your brain for these things. However, when a person finally achieves it, they are usually a lot more measured in their understanding and less likely to fall for their own imagination.

So how can we use Spiritual Discernment? The mundane definition according to Google is simply "the ability to judge well". It's the ability to "read the room" or "take a hint" as well as one's own ability to assess danger. Discernment is a facet of ones intuition, your 'gut feeling'. Discernment is choosing to count your money in the bathroom stall instead of in a crowded sidewalk. It is not telling the creepy man your address, even though he's asking politely. Discernment is being able to realize Karen the 3-D starseed Warrior Woman Acrobatic Yoga instructor in your Facebook DMs is probably not actually a shaman and her over priced smoothie mixes are not worth the money. Being able to read situations, form quick opinions, and conduct yourself accordingly is what Discernment boils down to. This can all be applied to spirit contact.

Spirits are just like people, in my experience, though there are a few things that make them a bit different. In general, however, view them as people with their own personalities and agendas. This applies to all sorts of spirits- Gods, land spirits, angels, demons, deceased loved ones, etc. They are not strictly good or evil, they are all doing their own thing and have their own morals. Also consider who they are associated with. You can learn a lot about anyone by taking a look at who they hang out with.

If you have an acquaintance who's been known to hang around people who gossip, lie, and steal, would you give them a key to water your plants when you're out of town? Probably not.

Same goes for spirits, if you know a spirit is associated with some nasty business, you probably don't want to get wrapped up in what they have to offer.

'Mall Santa Effect'

Something that I feel I must touch on is something author and occultist Jason Miller calls the 'Mall Santa' effect. This is something that I've observed myself. I feel I would be doing a disservice if I didn't mention it, because it certainly clarified some things for me when I learned about it. Hopefully it will be helpful for you as well.

As Miller explains it, there comes a point in every American child's life where we might still believe in the entity of Santa Claus, but we are old enough to know the man in the costume at the mall is not the Santa himself. 

Miller argues the same is said for spirits. In Greek mythology, the Gods are only a single entity and cannot be in more than one place at one time. In the ancient Greek world, the shrines of the Gods/Goddesses were thought to be spots where they resided most often, thus making it easier to get their attention there. 

Personally, this idea resonates with me as I have observed it. Jason Miller goes on to explain that while spirits cannot be in more than one place at a time, very powerful spirits have lesser spirits to stand in for them. The proverbial 'Mall Santas' who put on the image of the powerful spirit, but are more of a stand-in.

Reaching Out and Building A Relationship

Firstly, meditation. You can't get anywhere if you don't meditate. You have to know the fabric of your own mind before anything else. This is because the imagination is our window into this world. For whatever reason, we can't comprehend spirits in their truest and most unadulterated form so our imaginations act as a buffer. This can make it tricky to know where real experience begins and imagination ends. Through meditation you can start to see the boundaries.

Meditation also gives you patience and the ability to observe. It slows you down and lets you perceive the subtle, both within and without. 

Second, JOURNAL. It doesn't have to be a complex journal, just write something down. Keep a record of what happens. Trust me, you will thank me later.

Thirdly, this is probably the most tricky, allow yourself to be open in the moment but seriously question it afterwards. If you question too much as its happening, the experience will stop because your brain will not allow you to perceive it. If you don't question at all, you will get yourself in trouble.

Think of it this way, you shouldn't believe everything you hear right away. If a person tells you fish are made of chocolate, you're going to question it. Do that with spirit contact. 

A spirit might come to you and say something like "Do this spell for me and you will be rich". Question what the spirit has to gain, question if the spell is even possible, question if this is a real experience or just your imagination. Look at it from all angles before proceeding.

Fourth, if you are scared of spirits, start by asking a spirit guide to help keep you safe. Honestly, you shouldn't usually start with this stuff right out the gate. This is more advanced working in that you need to have confidence, understanding, and the ability to handle it. Magick is like working out a muscle. You don't try to deadlift 315 lbs your first day in the gym! Work up to things by learning to meditate and protect yourself.

​Dealing with Unwanted Visitors 

Failure is inevitable. You will eventually fuck up and likely have to deal with some unwanted house guests. It's okay though, the majority of the time you just have to ask them to leave in a firm but polite manner and they will leave.

There are a variety of spells, talismans, rites, and rituals to help remedy this problem as well, so just know it's not hopeless if you find yourself in this situation.

Types of Spirits as I Know Them

This is another one of those completely UPG moments that you can either take or leave. I'm going to do this section in a list format because its easier.

• Deities- This includes the gods of mythology but I would also put other named spirits like spirit guides, archangels, demons, and catholic saints.

• Deceased Human Spirits- This one is self explanatory. 

• Ancestor Spirits- For me, these differ from deceased humans in that they tend to be much more ancient.

• Land spirits- Spirits of the land, plants, animals, and general environmental spirits.

• Egregores- Spirits that arise from collective belief.

• Parasitic spirits- These spirits feed on energy such as our emotions. Not great to have around but not like Hollywood demon movies. Think of them like ticks or leeches.

The Magician's Maxim

 Do you know the Maxim? Many modern witches don't and I think we would all do well to consider it.

The Maxim is Thus:

To Know What One Must Do

To Dare to Do it

To Will it to Be

and To Keep Silent (*with Discernment)

Essentially this means you need to know what you're doing, you need to have the confidence to do it, you need to have a plan on how you will accomplish it, and you need to work on it silently. I add 'with discernment' as a caveat, as I believe there are benefits to sharing this information. After all, I'm writing a blog about it. 

Personally, I find it embarrassing when I see the majority of people on the internet practicing witchcraft. I find it appalling how so many people read one book and decide they are a professional. I find it upsetting that the people with the least knowledge are not only the loudest in the room, but also the folks who have the biggest following. These days, people listen to those who have the best aesthetic and the snappiest tik tok transitions. That's not to say I am the one you should all listen to. I'm not a professional either. What I mean is that it seems no one listens to the spirits, no one listens to the elders. You will learn a great deal more listening to nature than you will listening to anyone on tik tok. Not only this, but posting pictures and videos of your practice CAN and WILL have real consequences. If you want to post pictures of your altar or videos of your spellwork, I can't stop you... but it will change how things work. People do not need to be in your business like that, point blank. I wish folks saw these things as more sacred, but that's just my opinion I guess. I bring all this up because I want to drive home the point that spirit discernment begins and ends with YOU and YOUR relationship to the divine, other people will generally just complicate things.

To Keep Silent is a very important of our history as cunning folk. Born out of necessity, keeping silent was a matter of life and death literally. Just because society has moved past burning witches does not mean you should just throw this entire tenant out. From a mundane perspective, posting about these things can affect personal relationships and jobs. Religious family members could cut you out (which is not always a bad thing), in America family members could have you locked up believing you're having a mental breakdown (5150). In other parts of the world like parts of Africa and South America, there are still literal witchhunts that take place. That is partly why the majority of witches use fake names online.

From a magickal/energetic perspective, posting these things publicly can affect your magick. Emotions, intellect, and imagination are the seat of magick within oneself. Someone having a strong negative opinion can cause your spell to fail. Not only this, but there are baneful magicians out there. By posting pictures of your altar or tools, you could be making yourself a target for Magickal Attack.

Again, I cannot stop you from doing what you want to do. That is why I add the last part... with Discernment.

That's all for this entry, friends. Thanks for tuning in! If there is something you'd like to see me write about, don't be afraid to reach out!

Until next time

~Sigrid

[ssaemilyhotchner]

Y for your alphabet prompts plz! (btw found your blog from AO3, loving the chapters so far)

aw thanks for reading, anon! <3

OTHER 1K DRABBLES | Read on AO3 Join the celebration by requesting a letter!

letter: Y | prompt: yuletide | wc: 1.3k | a/n: Jack/Emily fluff and Christmas content before Halloween because it’s still 85°F where I am and I’m trying to manifest cooler temps/holiday spirit. I wrote the first iteration of this in 2011(!). Needless to say, substantial tweaks went into this version because coming back to your writing 13 years later is humbling, let me tell ya.

Please do not repost (reblogs welcome) or otherwise claim as your own.

--

Emily had barely taken three steps into the bullpen when she heard Hotch call out to her.

“Prentiss, can I see you in my office, please?”

JJ and Morgan shared a conspiratorial glance. “Oooh, someone’s in trouble,” the latter teased. Emily responded with an eye roll and a good-natured shut up, Derek, then dumped her bag in her desk chair to make her way to the man who was summoning her, though not before sparing a longing glance at the fresh pot of coffee in the corner of the bullpen. She slowed her ascent of the stairs, however, when she heard Rossi chuckling at her from his office.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he dismissed, a vague yet omniscient quirk to his lips.

Emily looked at him suspiciously before pushing Hotch’s door open. “Hey, you wanted to see me?”

She hardly had time to register the sight in front of her before a seven-year-old blur precariously set down a full glass of orange juice and pounced into her arms. “Miss Emmy!”

“Oof,” she grunted as the boy collided into her. Grinning widely, she picked him up and spun him around. “Hey there, buddy! How are you?”

Jack wrapped his arms securely around her neck. “Good! I got you something,” he said with a smile that was so like his father’s.

“You did?” She gasped theatrically. “But we already celebrated my birthday!”

Jack nodded excitedly before motioning for her to set him on his feet. Fishing through his pocket, he pulled out a necklace with a plastic snowflake charm and other tiny beads held together by thick blue string and handed it to her. It was then that Emily noticed the crudely cut paper chain of snowflakes lining Hotch’s bookshelf. “Wow, you two, it looks like Christmas in here.”

“A certain someone couldn’t wait two months for snow and presents,” Hotch quipped with a small laugh.

The boy in question beamed. “So, I made my own snow!”

“Well, I think your snowflakes are beautiful. And as for the necklace,” Emily kneeled to his height and pressed a kiss to his forehead, “I love it. Thank you very much, Jack.”

He bit his lip and blushed a deep pink, watching with wide eyes as she put his gift on. “You’re welcome.”

Finally moving out from behind his desk, Hotch stood and closed the distance between them in measured strides. Running a hand through his son’s sandy hair, he said, biting back his smile, “Jack has a question for you.”

If possible, Jack’s expression brightened even further. “When are you going to come over, Emmy? I miss you.”

Emily’s heart did a little flip at his sweet words, then another when she and Hotch shared a brief but suggestive glance. “That’s up to your daddy, honey.”

“Well, Daddy?” Jack asked expectantly, his eyes wide.

Emily has both Hotchner boys wrapped around her little finger, Hotch thought fondly. He cocked his head to the side appraisingly. “Do you have any plans for tonight?”

--

Emily eyed Jack as he yawned for the third time. “Looks like it someone’s PJ time.”

Jack frowned. “But I don’t wanna go to sleep. I want to stay up so we can play.”

“Honey, you’re practically falling asleep standing up. How about this? Go wash your hands—I can still see pizza sauce on them,” she said, and Jack giggled, “then brush your teeth and I’ll be there in a minute to tuck you in. Okay?”

“Will you at least read me a bedtime story?”

“Jack,” Hotch warned gently from his spot at the kitchen sink, where he was washing their dinner plates, “why don’t we let Miss Emily relax? She’s had a long day, buddy.”

“It’s okay,” Emily assured. “I’d love to read you a story, Jack.” Jack rubbed his eyes sleepily but his grin at Emily’s words was wide as ever.

“And what do we tell Miss Emily for picking up dinner?” Hotch prompted.

“Thank you,” Jack said dutifully, wrapping his arms around her waist and hugging her tightly.

“You are very welcome. Now hurry on to your room and pick a story before I change my mind,” she teased.

He was off with a yelped okay, okay! before Emily could so much as blink.

Teeth minty fresh and hands no longer sticky, Jack eagerly curled up beneath the covers and clicked on his bedside lamp, casting their shadows onto the wall. “So,” Emily said with a soft smile, “what book are we reading tonight, Mr. Jack?”

“I dunno. Anything to do with snow.”

“Boy, you really want Christmas to be here, don’t you?” Emily asked, scanning his small bookshelf for promising titles.

“Uh huh,” Jack nodded. “Because of our special visitor!”

“Santa?”

“No,” the boy giggled. “You, Miss Emmy. Are you gonna come over on Christmas like last year? Daddy says you make Christmas real special for us.”

“Well, your daddy is very sweet,” Emily replied, her cheeks warming. “We’ve got a while ‘til Christmas, but once we’re closer to the big day, if it’s okay with your daddy, I’ll be here.”

Satisfied, Jack burrowed further beneath his mountain of blankets. Finally, Emily found the picture book she had been looking for and pulled it off of the shelf with a flourish, then moved to sit at the foot of the boy’s bed. “Now close your eyes and try to get some sleep.” Clearing her throat, she began. “T’was the night before Christmas, when all through the house—”

“—not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse! This is my favorite.”

“I know it is, silly,” Emily laughed, pinching his nose softly and causing more giggles to spill forth. “Now sleep.”

Jack said nothing, just obeyed, her voice an excellent lullaby.

“The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there. The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads. And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap, had just settled down for a long winter’s nap…”

--

“Hey, you.”

Hotch looked up at the sound of her voice, then smiled and handed her a generously filled glass of her favorite red wine as she plopped down on the couch beside him. “Hey.”

Accepting the drink gladly, she curled up against his side and let out a long sigh. “You were right earlier; today really has been a long day.”

He snaked an arm around her waist, tugging her closer. “Especially for you. I still don’t understand why you insisted on finishing all of your reports before we left.”

She snorted. “Hypocrite. Besides,” she took a long sip of the heady wine, “I wanted to spend my weekend doing someone—I mean, something—else.”

Hotch chuckled at her very intentional slip of the tongue. “Oh, yeah? Like what?”

Slowly, Emily placed her glass onto the nearby coffee table then set her chin atop his shoulder, her breath ghosting against his cheek. "Mmm, nothing," she answered coyly.

“That sure doesn’t feel like nothing.” He grunted as her lips traveled from his cheekbone to the underside of his jaw, then the hollow of his throat. “Emily…”

Covering his mouth with hers, she silenced him with a coaxing, teasing kiss. “Have I answered your question yet?”

“Just about,” Hotch replied breathlessly, guiding her backwards until she was spread across the couch’s entire length and he was hovering over her.

“I have something for you,” she whispered against his lips.

He slid a large hand to her back and pulled her body flush against his, reveling in the experience of her; even though they'd been together for just over a year, sharing space and time with her like this was still a luxury, one he doubted he would ever get used to. “I’ll say.”

Emily trailed her fingers down his chest, eventually coming to rest at his hip. “Undress me,” she clarified, her doe eyes already nearly-black with want.

Hotch obeyed without hesitation and felt his breath catch in the back of his throat as he reached the last button and pushed apart her blouse. “Jesus,” he breathed approvingly.

She laughed, low and sultry. “I take it you’re a fan.”

“You know I can’t get enough of you in red.” He dropped his lips to the swell of a breast, peppering kisses along the edge of her scarlet-hued bra. She rewarded him with a surprised exhalation as his teeth grazed her sensitive skin, and the sound traveled straight between his legs.

“It’s like I’m your very own Christmas present, just waiting to be unwrapped,” she purred.

“Thank goodness the holiday came early, then.”

[assmeffect]

gonna repost a fic I wrote like. 5 years ago so I have something on this blog lol

small canon divergent fic post citadel battle in me1. I refuse to believe Shepard was just. fine. after the tower collapsed on her

It took them too long to find her. After Liara and Garrus were pulled from what was left of the citadel tower, and Liara realized that the commander wasn’t with them, Garrus had to hold her back from running to find her. Convincing her to let those who could actually walk to search for Shepard.

It took them too long. Liara felt as though, for the first time, she would lose her patience, until someone shouted that they’d found her, and the asari collapsed with relief, Anderson catching her by her arms and helping her sit on the ground.

Distantly, she could hear the man talking to her, his own voice wavering as he kept himself from crying, but all her attention was on Rose. They carried her out, calling for an ambulance cruiser ASAP.

She was breathing and barely conscious. Liara watched as she tilted her head to the side, lavender eyes making contact with Liara's blue, and she smiled before losing consciousness.

Liara wasn’t sure how long they’d been operating for. It felt like years had gone by. The asari had been lucky, her injuries weren’t as bad as Garrus’ or Rose’s.

A few broken bones were nothing compared to the amount of fractures that littered Garrus’ carapace and crest, or all the internal bleeding and the likely concussion Rose had sustained.

Liara sat on the bench in the waiting room, staring at the clock on the wall but not actually reading it, spacing out. She was partially aware of Kaidan sitting beside her, leg bouncing as he sat silently.

How long had it been since Shepard had been rushed to the ER? How long had it taken for Liara's injuries to be set and repaired? How long had she been waiting?

Her attention was snapped away from her thoughts when the doors slid open with a soft ‘woosh’ and a doctor stepped out. The salarian looked around before his eyes landed on the heavily armoured group huddled in the corner.

“I take it you are all companions of the commander?”

He asked, and Kaidan was the first to respond.

“Yes! Is she alright?!”

He sounded exhausted. All of them were.

“She’ll pull through, she’s going to live...”

the doctor continued to speak but Liara didn’t hear him, bursting into tears of relief and joy when she heard those words. Rose was going to live.

It was almost 3 months before Shepard was released and allowed to return to her apartment on the Citadel, provided someone stayed with her at all times. No one volunteered, Liara didn’t even have to say anything, everyone knew she would be the one to do it.

She hadn’t left Rose’s side since she’d woken up, and had been there during her physical rehab. It had been 2 weeks since the commander had left the hospital, and Liara was laying in bed with her.

The artificial sunlight peeking in through the slatted curtains, illuminating the room just enough for Liara to see. She gazed at Rose as the human slept, her face pressed against the pillow, short black hair mussed, and her dark skin littered with fresh scars that mingled with old ones.

The asari couldn’t help herself as she reached out, gently smoothing down some hair before leaning in and kissing her. She received a tired grumble in return and she pulled back, laughing softly as Rose slowly woke up, gazing at her from under thick lashes. She hummed,

“g'morning beautiful...five more minutes?”

She asked, voice thick from sleep. Liara simply smiled and wrapped an arm around Rose’s waist, pulling her closer.

“Of course”

It felt like they had all the time in the world.

[kharmii]

Meta Liberation Army Fandom Drama

There's no safe word in the Kharmii dungeon today, so expect to get it raw and hard with a touch of the 'tism. Someone once told me -might have been @feldkommandant that Asian fans generally keep to themselves because they don't want to deal with Western world fandom drama. I just experienced the worst example of that in action. It's the reason I wrote this post about stuffy old ideologue fangusfungus throwing out a DAMN FUNDIES!!1!1!!! rant.

DISCLAIMER: This is going to be R-18 rated comedy. If anything in this post makes you feel uptight, turn off your device and touch grass.

-So I was a happy lurker watching a bunch of Paranormal Liberation Front fans participate in this Strawpage thing, which appears to be a site where artists crank out quick gift art in the form of loose sketches. It's not something I'd ever participate in because it takes me forever to finish anything. A couple of Asian artists were invited to participate, and they pretty much right away became victims of antishipper ire. They were so rattled that one artist might have set their page to private, and another deleted all their shippy art, even if it was as innocuous as hand-holding.

Side note: This is all speculation btw. I'm an observer trying to make sense of it.

-So Fungs did their rant, and I posted something on their page that they promptly deleted but then reposted as a cap:

0% of antishippers are 'right wing white supremacist Christian fascists' or whatever. I'm not intimidated by those titles because I am an iconoclast who can't be pigeonholed. Right wing people have found me just as offensive.

Also, there are two reasons why it was completely absurd of this person to assume I was to blame.

1.) I'm not a sniveling cowardly rat-faced leftist twat who tittle tattles over petty bs. All those people are supposedly over on Bluesky, LOL!

2.) It would be counterproductive of me to harass Asian artists into going incognito when the whole point of my blog is to obsess over stupid crap and then post related artwork constantly. Right now, I've got the MLA in an iron fist and don't plan on letting go for a very long time.

One of the artists who went private made a 48-page labor of love devoted solely to the underutilized character Trumpet. I'm confused about why antis would target them, but those people are fckn nuts, so who knows?

They were the artist who did this btw, the illustration book about Trumpet AKA 'Cunty Flowergarden'.

The other targeted artist might have offended the crazies doing ReDestro x Shigaraki, which is like a 50/20 ship (my best guess), but it's not as if minors were involved. I'm sad I didn't save more of their work on my computer. All I have is this:

After putting Trumpet through the wringer, I have an idea for a sequel (not really, this is my muse being a smartass). One of the advisors in Skeptic's Carmine Regiment has a brain reprogramming quirk. While they have Trumpet strapped down to a chair with his eyelids taped open, ReDestro tells them, "Make sure he never questions Meta Liberation Army ideology again. Also, make him think we are a couple, and that he blows me under my desk on demand."

Next thing you know, my guy is walking around with a perpetually vacant smile on his face saying stuff in a hypnotic tone like, "Hail ReDestro! Meta Liberation Army until I die!" The above artwork is the new and improved Trumpet.

Anyway, I thought me and Fungs were on the same page. He also did a trans Shig AU. I almost made Shigs trans in Trumpet's Trauma, but that would have crossed a line into being too gross. If I'm going to spend my valuable time writing a 10+K word gooner fic, it can't be too gross. It has to be something I'd want to read if someone else wrote it.

ReD is acting like the proper bootlicker, but he's hard pressed to keep that phony act up. He's sort of wishing he let Shig kill him the day he lost his legs, but he has one of those 'Do It For Him' pictures on his desk with adorable photos of Geten taped to it.

There's also hyper-sexual man-whore Trumpet:

-But then it's like....aaawwwwww......AAAWWWWWWWWW.......

I preferred the fanon head canon where Dabi can't eat because his internal organs are too damaged. -Or maybe that's what is going on here, but poor hapless Dabi keeps trying.

Moving on......back to the drama.

1.) Christofascism isn't a thing in fandom because 100% of antis are emotionally immature minors or twenty-somethings who most certainly will have 'pro Palestine' in their profiles with all their stupid pronouns listed.

2.) Damn right I'm straight! I might be a twisted degenerate perv who writes fan fic of guys getting shellacked by other guys, but that doesn't mean I should be lumped in with the sorts of people who spread Monkeypox in rest stop bathrooms or who walk weirdos in dog masks around on leashes.

Side note: Do Asian women feel the same way? -Like do women into fujoshi culture consider themselves 100% straight but just like to see cartoon boys being cute?

3.) I'm def not a 'terf' because that stands for 'trans excluding radical feminist'. I'm in no way aligned with radical feminism. That 'christofascism' shpeal is bigoted also. It's normal to want to preserve Christian values in countries built on foundations of Christian values. When Muslims go into a country and for real VIOLENTLY force their values on people, nobody is allowed to call them out on it.

4.) This person went private for a few hours because they were supposedly afraid I'd harass them and their friends. That means they must think I'm the kind of psychopath who'd stew on some drama for like a second, then be like, "Oh look, A SHINY!" *runs off* "WHEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!"

Come to think of it, I head canon ReDestro as being that sort of villain, like if he was pissed at you and didn't break your spine in half in the first five minutes, then he'd get distracted and wander off. He's a busy man, after all.

Anyway, that artist was better years ago when they drew more attractive characters with visually appealing fetishses, but lately they've descended into fat, transgender neckbeard pron. It's like the cartoon version of this:

There's no comparing to the pretty ones because they all look like that. Most look like that...but werewolf bullshit. Fungs was making Trumpet look like that. Let's detrans the Trumpet. Seriously, the guy is a solid mesomorph build who probably stands a hair over six feet tall.

Seriously, if you are going to make a MLA person trans, it would be funnier to do it to this guy:

Imagine our guy...erm 'lady' in a convenience store berating some poor clerk.

ReDestro: It's MA'AM!!! Don't stress Momma out or she might have to pop a bitch's skull like a pimple! *Takes out whole side of wall with 20% stress*

Skeptic would make a good transfemale. My best guess is that he's about 6'11" in canon. I could see him fighting to get ladies room rights. He would have had cameras trained on all the toilets for a while, but after some time, it wouldn't be good enough. He'd have a burning desire to be physically present. All it would take was one bad ruling from an activist judge, and he'd be in there skulking around like an oversized slenderman.

Trumpet zeroes in because he can't help himself. He like, "Suck my dick?" Skeptic refuses because he's a 'translesbian'.

Found this miscellaneous post when I was trolling for content:

I actually did a fan fic where that happened because I live to serve. To be fair though, Trumpet gets his ass beat in canon. You just know it. Look at his arrest photo:

Is that a boot print on his forehead? At least they had the common decency to let him comb his hair before they took the mugshot. You just know this man wasn't involved in any sort of combat during the Gunga Villa Raid. He was probably hiding in a broom closet during the worst of the action. The authorities had to drag him out kicking and screaming.

Let me clue you in on something....they don't have that 'defund the police' crap in Asian countries. People are okay with scumbag criminals getting what's coming to them. The cops who arrested Trumpet were like, "Wait...is that the politician? Are we getting to arrest the politician?" They would all look at one another for a moment, and then someone would say, "What do you think, boys? Does this asshole look like he's 'resisting arrest' to you?"

Trumpet would vehemently wave his hands shaking his head saying, "No! NO! NO I'M NOT! NOOO!!"

Next thing you know, all the cops would pull out their billy clubs and go to town on his ass like they're Endeavor trying to make the baby stick.

[gwox]

If It Doesn't Make You Squirm… [Brutal Light]

Recently, I went over the links in my old promotional page for my debut (and so far only) novel Brutal Light from 2011, and discovered that a bunch of the links were dead. Which shouldn't be surprising, since blogs come and go, and these essays and interviews came out twelve years ago now. So over the next few months, I'm going to be reposting these here, starting with "If It Doesn't Make You Squirm...", which I originally wrote for Lincoln Crisler's blog on 12/6/11.

One of the most valuable bits of writing advice I ever read (from a source, sadly, I can no longer recall) went something like this: "If it doesn't make you squirm, it won't make the reader squirm." It was a passing bit of advice with no context--at least, none that I recall--but it's stuck with me like nothing else, and is always at the back of my mind whenever I write.

The first question as a reader you might ask is 'Why would you want to make me squirm? What did I ever do to you?' (That is, unless your first question is 'Are you wearing pants?' If so, you're likely already squirming.) To me, as a fiction writer, it means I've connected with you on a fundamental level--it means I've successfully put you 'behind the eyes' of my main characters and gotten you to feel what they feel. I've somehow connected you with their terrors, trials, exhilarations, despairs, and joys. Ultimately, it means I've given you an experience that will stay with you a while.

So why do I, as a writer, have to squirm to make that happen? I got myself a nice cushioned chair to sit in while writing and possibly being pants-less, so why would I make myself uncomfortable in it?

To me, it means sincerity shouldn't be faked. A writer who unflinchingly faces her or his fears will be able to write those fears with an authenticity that a writer who doesn't want to step outside of his or her comfort zone will find hard to duplicate. I'm not just talking about the things that are stock-in-trade for a dark fantasy or horror genre writer--vampires, zombies, serial killers, giant snakes, and the like. There are day-to-day fears that are even harder to face with honesty.

Take the fear of opening yourself up to another person--to not only admitting your vulnerabilities to yourself but letting your guard down so that someone you love can see them and possibly mock you for having them. Take the fear that you will someday be forced to look at what's beneath the carefully woven tapestry of words you call your identity, and you'll discover that there's nothing there. Take the fear that you'll end up alone, that the one you're with will wise up and leave you, and she or he will be right in their judgment. Even if these are not your fears, specifically, chances are you have others that cut this deep.

Horror and dark fantasy provide canvases like none other to explore these fears. Zombies, vampires, cannibals, werewolves, and even stranger beasts can give voice to our fears of what the world holds, and the desires we publically disdain while privately fantasizing about. There's nothing like a demon for uttering something cruel and monstrous, which may be a lie but is even more terrifying if it is true.

I have fears. They make me squirm, when I give them too close an examination. So I write them--grossly magnified and distorted, mixed in with things from the dead places and lots of bloody mayhem. I have no idea if they'll make you, the reader, squirm--my squirming is just a prerequisite, not a guarantee of success, and my fears may not be yours--but you'll know I've taken my best shot.

By the way, I am wearing pants. There's enough fear in the world without people wondering about that.***

Gary W. Olson is the author of the dark fantasy novel Brutal Light and a contributor to the dark fiction anthologies Fairly Wicked Tales and The C.A.M. Charity Anthology: Horror and Science Fiction #1. His blog originates here.

[nikkento-writes]

Bad Romance

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~2.7k

cw: Wild West au, no curses au, violence, implied sex work, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut - PIV sex, blow job, cunnilingus, dirty talk, pet names, creampie

Summary: You’re the Vixen Viper, an outlaw on the run with an outstanding bounty. You find a temporary safe-haven at the Star Saloon, protecting the women who work there while they protect you from the authorities. One night, a bounty hunter by the name of Toji Fushiguro shows up, threatening to cause some trouble. Somehow, you find the perfect way to subdue him.

Author's Note: This is a repost from my old blog! I originally wrote this as a request for a milestone event I was doing and it's still one of my fave fics that I've written, so I wanted to share it on here. I'm thinking of writing a Part 2 to this, we'll see! I just love the idea of Toji in the Wild West, idk, I think it fits him very well. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are never expected, but always appreciated. Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

Midnight at the Star Saloon is always lively with rambunctious activity. It’s the perfect time for stragglers moseying through town or the miscreant locals to stop by for a break, meaning booze, gambling, or sex. Usually all three in one night. You’ve been a regular here for almost three months now, befriending the women and men who work hard to keep the patrons satisfied. Whether it’s serving alcohol until they fall out of their seats, enabling poker addictions, or riding their cocks in one of the private rooms upstairs at a special rate, they do it all to make an honest living. Though on occasion, customers will cross the line.

And that’s where you come in.

It started two months ago, after you had frequented the saloon enough times to be considered a regular. It was around three in the morning when one of the barmaids approached you, asking you to follow her upstairs. She led you into the private room all the way down the hall, and inside was another worker, sitting at the foot of the bed, cheek swollen and a black eye all on the left side of her face. That’s all you needed to see to set you off. The perp had already left, but you knew who he was as soon as she described him. And, of course, like all assholes do, thinking they got away with it, he came back. When he did, it was you this time who took him upstairs to that same bedroom, dressed in one of the barmaid’s outfits. You, who flirted with him and stripped him naked on the bed, promising to give him exactly what he deserved. And finally, it was you who robbed him and held a sharp blade to his pathetic penis, threatening to slice it right off if he ever showed his ugly fucking face in this town again. You haven’t seen him since.

At that time, your friends at the Star Saloon already knew you were someone who could handle things. Maybe it was the way you dressed at first, often showing up in cowboy attire, ready to book it if the situation called for it. Or maybe it was because they recognized you from the wanted posters plastered in the next town over, your silly nickname the Vixen Viper in big bold print below an unflattering photo of you from the last time you landed in jail, right before you escaped. They never mentioned it; never reported you to the authorities. Instead, they welcomed you in with open arms. There’s a bounty on your head for the crimes you committed against sleazy men like that, but you hold no guilt for your actions. To you, and to all the women in the saloons you’ve frequented, it’s justice. They need someone like you to protect people like them. Because lord knows that no one else in this godforsaken world will.

You’ve lasted three months in this town without the authorities catching on to you yet. You look quite different from your poster when you’re done up in makeup and a frilly dress, dagger concealed in the garter wrapped around your thigh. And with the help of your friends, you’ve managed to hide in plain sight, posing as one of the barmaids while you patrol the late-night crowd for any possible threats. Violence against these women has significantly lessened since you’ve been around. The rumor amongst the patrons is that men who misbehave get their money taken and their dicks chopped off, which is pretty spot-on to the actual truth. So fortunately, for both the workers and the customers, there isn’t any trouble. 

Tonight is a little different.

You lean against the bar doing your usual inspection, checking for people who are causing a ruckus or getting rough with any of the ladies. You’re dressed similarly to them, though you never get requested to entertain in one of the private rooms above, considering you don’t go out of your way to flirt with any of the men. You lack the illustrious charm the others do; you’re only here for when things get ugly. It surprises you when a mysterious stranger on the other side of the room points to you directly, wiggling his finger to beckon you over. He smirks, the prominent scar on his lips curving with it. You grab your drink and walk over to him, curious to see what this is about, sensing that it can’t be anything good.

When you reach his table, you give him your most cordial smile. “Good evening, sir. Is there something I can help you with?”

He grins, waving to the seat across from him. “I was hoping you can join me for a little chat.” His tone is even, though there’s a hint of something sinister in there. Maybe it’s your imagination or better yet, your intuition. You’ll soon find out.

You drag the chair out, plopping into it, laying your hands flat on your lap, palm pressed to the knife hidden beneath your skirt. He scans you up and down before asking, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes at him, you answer, giving him a fake one, of course. He nods, accepting it. “Toji Fushiguro. Pleasure to meet you.” He holds his hand out, which you take reluctantly, shaking it. His grip is firm, callouses rough against your own. “I saw you and knew I had to meet you.”

Your raise a brow at him. “Oh? What about me caught your eye?"

“Thought I recognized you from somewhere.” His gaze lingers on yours, expression unwavering.

Your heart stops momentarily, a rock settling in the pit of your stomach. Not here, not now. You swallow thickly, feigning ignorance. “Really? From where?”

He slides you a rolled-up paper, nodding his head for you to open it. “Take a look.”

Trembling now, you obey, unraveling it slowly until you see the words WANTED: ALIVE and your face staring back at you. There’s no need to go any further. You fold it up immediately, heart racing, glancing at your surroundings hoping no one else is listening in on your conversation. As calmly as you can, you lean forward towards him, muttering, “So what, are you going to arrest me? Hog-tie me in front of all these people?”

He inches even closer, noses nearly touching now, his breath tickling you. “Now, I’m a gentleman. I like to know a woman first before I tie her up.”

You scoff. “So what, am I supposed to come quietly then?”

He glances at your mouth, then back to your eyes. “I’m willing to negotiate if you have something to offer.”

You clear your throat, intrigued by his response. “Let’s discuss this somewhere more private,” you say, grabbing his wrist and dragging him up the stairs with you.

“Lead the way, Vixen.”

You lead him to the very end of the hallway, the furthest room away from the bar downstairs. There’s a fire escape just outside the window, your best chance to evade arrest. First, you’ll have to subdue him.

Inside, you lock the door shut, turning to face him. “Are you a police officer?”

He shakes his head. “Guess again,” he answers, opening his coat to display the gun and knife hanging on his belt.

“Bounty hunter,” you state, glaring at him.

“Yup. And you, my dear, have a very hefty bounty on your pretty little head.” He steps towards you, caging you between his arms, your back flat against the door. Although you remain untouched, his presence is suffocating.

“What do want?” you ask him, breathing in deeply through your nose.

“All the loot you robbed from those scumbags. Enough to exceed the bounty I’d get if I brought you back with me.”

You smirk. “Is that it?”

“And a deal,” he adds. “A partnership.”

You stare at him, confused. “What?”

He laughs, amused by your reaction. “I’ll admit, I’m a fan of your work. Drifting through town-to-town, robbing sleazy assholes. And you haven’t been caught until now. It’s impressive.”

You’re caught off guard by the praise, relaxing just the slightest bit. “So, what do you propose?”

He lets his arms down, placing his hands in his pockets while he explains himself. “There are several bounties for men exactly like the ones you hate. If you promise to help me get them, I won’t take you in tonight. I’ll even give you some of the money. If you’re good.”

“And why can’t you do this yourself?”

“It’s easier to get a guy when his guard’s down. If there’s a pretty little thing like you seducing him, catching him will be easy as pie.”

You stare at him, contemplating his proposition. It’s an easy decision for you to make. It’s either this, or jail. “Fine. You have a deal.”

He offers his hand to you. “Put it there, partner.” His tone is soft, almost sincere. You can’t help thinking that if this were any other scenario, you’d find him attractive. Hell, even in this one, you’re drawn to him. You take his hand, shaking it. He tugs you in closer, voice low and seductive. “I think we should celebrate this new friendship. What do you say?”

You smile at him, what feels like the first genuine one of the night. Maybe this isn’t as bad as you initially thought. When you close the distance, his mouth is on yours quickly, lips smacking, wet and sloppy. He slides out of his jacket, letting it thud loudly on the hardwood with his weapons weighing it down. The shirt he wears is tight on his body, clinging to him, emphasizing his muscular physique. You can’t remember the last time you were intimate with a man without the intention to backstab him. In fact, it’s been a while since you were intimate at all. With him guiding you, however, you match his movements naturally, sliding your hands up his torso, pawing at his chest as his hands squeeze your hips, pulling you towards the bed.

He moans, slipping his wide tongue past your lips, deepening the kiss and exerting his dominance. “Can’t wait to see what the Vixen Viper can really do,” he huffs, hoisting the hem of your dress, bunching it in his fist. His fingers trail the inside of your thighs, stopping at the garter, feeling the handle of the knife strapped to you. He clicks his tongue, mouth hovering your ear, hooking his finger to snap the elastic against your skin. “You really are dangerous.”

You let out a whimper, your pussy throbbing with arousal. He grabs the blade by the handle, whipping it out from its holster, tossing it to the other side of the room away from you. You chuckle, lifting your arms up so he can strip you properly. “Are you scared of me?”

He removes your corset swiftly, squeezing your bare breasts in his hands, thumbs flicking at your nipples. “I don’t want to get stabbed in case you change your mind.”

You shove him onto the bed, where he lies flat on his back, watching you straddle his lap, naked. “If I do that, then I wouldn’t get to fuck you.”

He laughs loudly, biting his lip. “Oh? You’re the one who’s gonna fuck me?”

“Yeah, I reckon,” you reply, unbuckling his belt and undoing his zipper. He continues to watch you intently, groaning when you shimmy his pants off to release his cock. It flops against his abdomen, even bigger than you imagined, all veiny and girthy. You salivate at the sight of it, opening your mouth for a taste.

“Fuck,” he curses, head relaxing into mattress, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling as you sink down on him, swallowing him up until the tip hits the back of your throat. You bob up and down on his shaft, gripping the base of his cock, swirling your tongue around the head. “You suck cock like a fucking whore. Did your friends out there teach you that?”

You grasp his balls in your hand, squeezing them tight, causing him to shudder. Shaking your head, you say, “I learned this from experience.”

He smirks. “Yeah? Come here. Put this pussy on my face. Bet I can teach you something you haven’t learned yet.”

You release him, crawling up his body until your wet cunt is pressed to his lips. His tongue laps at your arousal, swirling around your aching clit. You grip the top of the headboard, grinding on him. “Oh fuck!”

His hands surround your ass, squeezing at your soft cheeks, fingers digging into your flesh. He hums into your skin, the vibrations adding to the sensation. He nods beneath you, encouraging you. “That’s it, sweetheart. Take it. Take it like a good slut.”

He takes you into his mouth, slurping at your clit until your gushing all over his face, your orgasm shiny on his lips and chin. His eyes are wild with excitement, peering up at you between your legs. Kissing the plush of your thighs, he says, “Well, go on then, Vixen. Fuck me.”

Soon, you’re sinking down onto his fat cock, pussy already soaking wet with slick and spit. He fills you up to the brim, taking a few seconds to adjust to size comfortable. When you’re ready, you start to bounce on his lap, his cock thrusting in and out of you smoothly. He hits your sweet spot over and over, stimulating you into another messy orgasm after just a few solid strokes. Your tongue hangs out of your mouth, drool leaking down your chin, throat dry from the incessant moaning.

“Look at you. So fucked out for me,” he growls, planting his feet on the bed, taking control. He grabs onto your hips firmly, pounding up into you, watching your entire body convulse with each delicious thrust. “You talk a big game, but you like being manhandled like this. You’re just a slutty little hole waiting to be ruined. Waiting for the right man to use you.” He presses his thumb to your clit, massaging it with deep strokes. “Seems like you finally met the perfect partner.”

“Fuck, Toji!” you cry out, unraveling once again.

He increases his pace, the bed creaking noisily below you. “That’s it, baby. Come with me. Gonna breed this perfect pussy. Gonna fill you up so fucking good.” He pulls you down towards him, wrapping you in his arms, kissing you fiercely as he pumps his load inside you.

You both lay still for a moment, catching your breaths, Toji peppering delicate smooches along your neck. You’re surprised at how gentle he’s being, considering his brutish behavior from earlier. When enough silence passes, you look at him, grinning. “What a way to celebrate, am I right? Partner?”

He laces his fingers with yours. “The beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

After you clean yourselves up as best as possible, you snuggle together under the covers, him spooning you from behind. “’Night, Toji Fushiguro.”

He nuzzles his nose to the nape of your neck, whispering, “What’s your real name?”

You smile, grazing your lips on his knuckles, actually giving it to him.

~~~

Toji Fushiguro, the most sought-after bounty hunter in all the west, wakes up the morning feeling fantastic.

He glances to his side, hoping to see his lovely new partner still peacefully asleep beside him. To his surprise, no one is there. He inspects the room, searching for clues on where she ran off to and notices nothing.

And that’s when it hits him. There’s nothing in the room.

All his clothes are gone, his weapons, the wallet full of cash buried in his pockets, even the very blanket they fell asleep under. He’s as naked as the day he was born, confused and beguiled until he finally realizes it. He’s been robbed. And it was the Vixen Viper who robbed him.

The only thing he finds is her wanted poster, folded up on the bedside table, a small note scribbled to the back of it:

Toji - Thanks for the fun night, but I don’t do partners. Maybe the next time you catch me, I’ll reconsider.  

He laughs, unable to contain his smile as he reads her real name signed at the end of it.

[avenger-hawk]

I saw someone reblog an old post about Itasasu, with a comment even, showing that they were really interested in what I wrote years ago, but all I could think about was that they reblogged it from the person who acted like a creep, with the pretext of Itasasu roleplay and shipping, pulling an Itachi, so to speak, acting ‘protective’ with me but in fact isolating me from the online friends I had back then (I was really active), using my weaknesses  (that I told her because I kinda trusted her in the beginning) to destroy the little self esteem I had, and making me doubt every single word I wrote, about myself, about Itasasu and more. So that post this person reposted has an ‘introduction’ where I point out that said creep made me notice mistakes, I even thanked her for this, and it was such a manipulation cause I remember the drama she started whenever I did things she didn’t approve, apparently related to my interpretation of Itasasu with an Itachi that wasn’t 100% a good person, and in reality related to the fact that I wrote essays and meta and stuff that had a lot of visibility back then, which she didn’t have.

My posts in that creep’s blog remain even if I should delete my blog, so I can’t do anything. Anyway, if my followers and those who stumble upon this post, see meta, asks, essays in other ppl’s blogs, where I’m the OP, they might open said post in my blog, and see if it’s different, cause after I cut all contacts with that creep I removed all the forced bullshit I wrote to please her. Just in case someone is interested.

(also, be careful: don’t open to ppl who act suspicious, like not spontaneously, as to appear mysterious and cool. They’re not. They’re just manipulating you into being interested in them, making you open up so they’ll use your weaknesses against you when you won’t do as they say)

Hawk out

[gyllenhaalstories]

hey @/just-just-gyllenhaal! you blocked me before i could share my answer on your post “calling me out” for simply adding credits on a photo you shared that was originally posted by a photographer who asked for her photos not to be stolen and/or posted without credits. as a content creator myself, it’s hard to wrap my head around the idea that crediting someone is a bad thing, so let’s clear things up a little!

this has gotten quite long so... long story short, don’t repost & don’t steal & always credit original creators! 😊

i think it’s clear that, as a content creator, i value the importance of crediting the original posters as much as possible. whether it’s for gifs, photos, a fic or even the ideas i share with my friends, i try to credit everything i can. i still credit the creator of a divider i have used for years and on every single of my fics. i used to get my gifs for my fics out of google image until i realized how harmful it is to creators. after that, i learned and improved myself and i sourced my content respectfully. i credit the original creators even if they deactivated or it took me tons of redirects to find the original poster (i even went back and added the credits to old fanfics of mine as soon as i found out who made the gifs!). i also make sure to use MY OWN content before everything else. i have invested hours into creating fuzzy & blurry gifs so i can use them and share them on here! reposters and people who steal content are absolutely everywhere and impossible to control. they’re on tumblr, twitter, instagram, pinterest. you name it, you’ll find stolen content at the most random places. i have had my gifs stolen and reposted too, it’s awful. i managed to get some of them taken down, but it’s a struggle to open social media and just hope someone did not take the gifs i took hours to create and post them without credits, or even worse, claim it as their own.

 the website you used is a gold mine, so much is uploaded there and i’m sure i’m not the only one who enjoys seeing old & new photos you get from iheartjakemedia. it’s always cool to see photos of jake in the tag. well, was cool, since i’m blocked now, but details. the website did NOT credit the original owner which is bad. however, the photo has circulated on twitter, instagram AND tumblr where people have given proper credits to amy kaplan by tagging her, writing her username or crediting her in text form. it is possible you did not see the original photo! in that case, i don’t see how being informed of the original creator was such an awful action on my part. my caption was also very respectful, i only repeated the photographer’s desire to not have her content posted without credits.

there are not many members of the jake fandom on tumblr, it’s nice to respect each other and it’s sad i won’t be able to share the archives you post and the updates to my blog and help them circulate around. i have appreciated your work, you’ve been digging in some very old photo albums and you have shared photos a lot of us have never seen. also, you have posted photos on which you asked not to have them reposted since you said they were yours. with that piece of information, i can only assume you understand the importance of crediting original creators (... although you have stolen people’s content and blocked them for rightfully calling such a behaviour out too but i won’t get into that).

i was respectful and simply shared the credits of a photo which is a habit a lot of people should learn so we can make sure to always credit the original creators when it’s possible. if you believe i was at fault for crediting the photographer, then that’s how you see things. i will keep on crediting original content creators and hopefully you will too!

here are some screenshots to verify my claims!

this is the tweet by the original photographer! amy kaplan wrote: “Don’t steal my photo, K thanks”.

you told me to “check before accusing people” so i am giving you the same advice so you can check before stealing people’s content. maybe it was a mistake, maybe it was not. either way, i can see you were not happy that i simply added the credits without accusation or any mean intention.

you can also find this photo on her instagram.

like i said, it’s sad that i won’t be able to enjoy and reblog your posts which i have done a lot ever since i have learned about the existence of your blog. as a long time tumblr user and, again, a content creator, i am aware of the importance of reblogs and showing support to other users by reblogging their posts. i’m sorry if i post more of your content through queued photosets, they were queued prior to being blocked by you.

alright that’s it for me, i hope you have a nice day! <3

[woozyvee]

quits

word count: 3.6

synopsis: seungmin wasn't aware that a way to counteract his perpetual insomnia was for the heating in his neighbor’s apartment to stop working.

tags: seungmin x reader, neighbors au, fluff, mild angst, hurt/comfort.

author's note: a twist on the "there is only one bed" trope, i suppose. reposted from my old blog, edited for seukijeu. ew, why was i a better writer when i wrote this four years ago? rip.

Seungmin is sure he could map the cracks littering his ceiling from memory by now.

His limbs ache against his sheets from having been inactive for too long, lips drying and ears ringing beneath still silence. Heavy silence swallows the occasional shudder of his window under harsh winds, round snowflakes turning the midnight’s sky a blurry gray. Seungmin stays unmoving, eyelids weighty but remaining open, scrutinizing the aged white paint hovering a couple feet above him.

It is cold too. He would be more peeved with his apartment complex’s stinginess concerning temperature control if he were not sheltered beneath his thick covers, more or less his only escape from shivering in his own home in the winter.

A big toe twitches, a car is heard driving by along the street outside, someone drops something on the floor in the apartment overhead.

Seungmin has a semi-important meeting tomorrow. Twisting his neck, he is met with red, angular numbers informing him that the third hour since midnight is fast approaching. An exasperated sigh breaks the silence. His eyelids force themselves shut.

He knows it will not work. No matter how slowly he makes himself breathe, no matter how many sheep he counts, no matter how still he lies. It does not work.

Eyes snap open after an unmeasured amount of time, familiar cracks above always too happy to meet them.

“Fuck it,” he tells himself before sitting up, bare feet flinching at first when they touch the cold wood covering his floors. His alarm clock is left to its own lonesome on his nightstand when the round glasses previously accompanying it find their rightful place on the bridge of Seungmin’s nose.

Light taps sound throughout his apartment as he guides himself to the kitchen, momentarily swaying due to the fatigue clouding his consciousness. Seungmin shakes his head lazily before pouring himself a cup of water, all five of his drinking glasses standing uncleaned in his sink. Chilly water slips down his throat.

The soothing effect of rehydrating himself has faded with the years, Seungmin is poignantly reminded. It no longer compared once he found a better way to fight his insomnia and it never will again. Not even when the better way is no longer available to him. At least his tongue feels less dry now.

He sobers a little when there is a sudden knock against his door.

It takes Seungmin a few seconds to glance at his clock, just a minute or two having passed since it struck three. He wonders if he should grab his utility knife, just in case, but is already walking toward the noise’s source before he can be bothered to entertain the idea.

In his all but intoxicated weariness, he forgets to exploit his peephole before his fingers have already undone the lock and he pulls the door open.

He sobers even a little more when his squinting eyes find you staring up at him with your wide ones, easily recognized surprise arching your brows. Seungmin probably looks something similar, he would guess.

Your name falls from his stiff lips in the form of a question.

“Oh,” you sound and Seungmin duly notices how somehow blue and shaky your lips are. And how a thick jacket is hanging over your shoulders. “Sorry if I woke you up.”

Seungmin remembers how gentle the knock had been and how it under no circumstances could have woken anyone up. Which was probably intentional.

“You didn’t,” he reassures and watches you fidget under his stare.

This is awkward, he realizes. The two of you do not speak often, the typical encounter being a hushed greeting as you pass each other in the stairwell, or merely a polite smile. Of course, there was that one time when Seungmin was justly wasted and his friends—well, Minho—locked him out of his own apartment as a prank. Miraculously, you were coming home as this happened and let him into your place for a while. He remembers drinking a lot of water, giggling too much and watching you laugh at him. He also remembers thinking your laugh was kind of cute. And how embarrassed he was when he woke up hungover the next day.

Yes, this is awkward, especially at three in the morning but Seungmin finds himself unaffected. You are nervous, though. You always are around him, always have been. He wonders if you know he has noticed.

A halfway emptied cup of water is still balanced between Seungmin’s fingers, he suddenly realizes.

“So,” you start with an obvious distress altering your usually soft voice, seemingly tense hands gripping the sleeves of your jacket. “Hate to disturb you but-” You hesitate, finding difficulty in meeting Seungmin’s stare. He patiently lets you collect your thoughts, hoping that the heavy bags adorning his eyes are not too discouraging. “The heating in my apartment shut off some time earlier today and well… It’s really cold.”

You do not need to elaborate for Seungmin to understand. If his apartment is as cold as it is with the heating on, he can only imagine what type of freezer your place must have turned into with these sub-zero temperatures outside.

“Shit,” he comments.

“Uh, yeah, so…” You purse your lips for a moment and Seungmin’s feet feel cold beneath him. “I- I tried to sleep but, I really can’t. I’m supposed to help my friend move tomorrow and need to get up kind of early and I just-…”

Seungmin, despite how unthinkably tired he is, quickly connects the dots and understands what question you are working your way up to asking. He still wants to let you ask it though, in the slim chance that he is wrong. Even if he knows he is not.

A shaky hand pokes out from your thick sleeve and you scratch your scalp in the silence. Seungmin finds himself hoping you speak soon again, the lack of any sounds too loud and too recognizable in his ears. A sip of water slides smoothly down his throat.

“I just- I’m really sorry but, just know that I wouldn’t ask this of you if it wasn’t-” You stop and inhale, feet fidgeting atop the floor. Seungmin thinks he might be smiling a little, he is not sure. “Is it- Can I sleep here tonight? Just on the couch or- or floor or whatever you are most okay with. I’ll leave early in the morning, I just really need someplace.. warmer to rest for a few hours.”

It is an odd request. And somehow, Seungmin does not like that you are asking it. You do not know him well enough to justifiably feel comfortable sleeping in his apartment. As far as you know, Seungmin could be some creep that collects his own nail clippings or something weird like that.

He does not really like the obvious crush you have on him either. You started liking him too easily, he thinks. How could you think it appropriate to develop such a fast crush on him when the most you know about him is his name and that he has friends that like pulling pranks on him?

A part of Seungmin wants to deny you for these reasons. He probably would, under less dire circumstances. But he quickly remembers your desperate situation and how unthinkably cold your apartment must be and that it is something past three in the morning. You are lucky that he is not some creep that collects his own nail clippings. And that the blush that is slowly coloring your cheeks is kind of endearing.

He empties his drink down his throat finally and opens his door further.

“Sure,” he accepts and takes a step sideways. “Come in.”

You look surprised as you carefully enter his home and it only then strikes Seungmin that he is actually letting all but a stranger into his own apartment for the night. He really needs to sleep. Jokes on him.

Worry is not a prominent emotion that he feels then, however, as you could not look any more harmless with your wide eyes scanning his dimly lit living room shyly. Maybe he did a good thing for someone, for once.

“You can sleep on the couch right there,” he gestures to said piece of furniture and your head bobs in a nod. “And use as many blankets as you need.” Windows shake and cut through an approaching silence from the storm on the other side.

Seungmin is oddly comfortable in this setting.

He is too tired.

Lifting his cup to his lips again, he is promptly reminded that it is empty. It would not work anyway, he scoffs.

You turn to him, fingers clutching the clothing covering your chest. “Thank you so much. Really. I seriously owe you now. It was fucking freezing in there. Just- thank you.”

The sides of Seungmin’s lips curl just a bit before he can prevent it as he waves a dismissive hand your way. “Don’t worry about it. We can be quits now, after… that time I was really drunk.”

He thinks your lips purse to suppress a smile. Seungmin’s ears feel warmer.

“No, no, seriously,” you say. “If you ever need a favor after this, knock on my door.”

Seungmin nods, folding under your seemingly decided offer and you quietly stalk toward his couch. He leaves his empty cup in the kitchen and tells you to make yourself at home which earns him yet another thank you before he is sneaking back into his bedroom and closing the door behind him.

And he is back to tracing the cracks decorating his ceiling with heavy-lidded eyes and darkening circles below them to match.

Fists tighten around the sheets he rests upon, the insides of his cheeks falling victim to restless teeth. He only wants to sleep, if just for an hour. An hour, he fantasizes, would be enough. Would save him from having to get high on caffeine to stay awake at work tomorrow. Or only half an hour, he is not greedy. Anything.

He thinks of a warm embrace and his heart launches upward and gets stuck in his throat. Slow fingers combing through his unkempt hair, heartbeat grounding and relaxing against his ear. Tender and reassuring hums that would lull him to sleep, decelerate his heart’s thumping and calm his breathing.

The muscle sheltered beneath his rib cage only raps at the thought, pounds in his ears worse than silence does, the memory of a certain voice anything but sedative in his ear.

He shoots upward quickly, chest all but heaving up and down under loud inhales and exhales as he sits and stares out his window, at the relentless snow descending from thick clouds blanketing the sky.

The better way to rebut his insomnia is gone, the memory of it tainted with shitty lies and raised voices.

“Fuck,” he sighs, face landing in the palms of his hands and he rubs and rubs and rubs-

Until his toilet flushes and he remembers that he has a guest, of sorts.

His eyes sneak a peek at his clock again and it tells him that it has been forty minutes or so since he crawled back beneath his duvet. And you are still awake.

Strong gusts of wind shake against Seungmin’s window and he sits still, contemplating what to do. His muscles are sluggish, his eyes ache, his hairline is sticky. But he is not going to fall asleep anyway.

Wobbling a little, he opens his door again and proceeds with gentle steps into his living room. There you sit, on his couch with your phone in hand. Wood creaks beneath Seungmin’s foot and his shoulders tighten as your head whips around and your round eyes meet his apologetic ones through the dark.

A brief silence passes. That Seungmin ends quickly.

“Can’t sleep?”

Your lips part, phone dismissed by your side. “Uh, no, I-… I have a hard time sleeping in new places sometimes,” you explain, hands squeezing at your arms as you hold yourself. “But I’m warmer now at least, so…”

Seungmin nods, watching your chin dip downward for a second before your voice interrupts the taut silence again. He is thankful.

“Sorry if I uh, woke you up when I-”

“No, no, you didn’t,” Seungmin reassures, like how he did earlier in the night. He approaches you slowly and notices how your back straightens when he sits down beside you. “I’m a bit of an insomniac, actually.”

“Oh,” you react and Seungmin is too tired to dislike the hint of pity in your eyes. “That sucks. I’m sorry.”

A deep chuckle rumbles within Seungmin’s chest. “It’s not your fault. Unless you’re a witch who put a curse on me, or something.”

You huff at that and Seungmin feels drunk again because it is a little cuter than it should be. His smirk is too wide for this late hour. Early hour. Whatever.

“No, I wouldn’t. I’m just saying sorry on the universe’s behalf because, well, it won’t do it itself…”

Seungmin’s head dips, a tight smile across his lips. There are many things he would like to hear the universe apologize for. But somehow, the notion feels like a sweet, deceptive lie.

He meets your open stare and shoots you a polite smile. And sighs. He really just wants to sleep. Just.

“Is-… Don’t you have like, some technique for falling asleep?” The question is innocent and reasonable enough, so Seungmin tries to hide the way in which his eyebrows pinch when he averts his gaze. “Like, medicine or something?”

His fingers clench.

“Uh,” he starts, tongue loose after so many hours of sleeplessness. So many years. “I used to.”

You remain silent and Seungmin hates it, has to keep talking.

“I was in a relationship. Whenever I slept with her, that’s when I could actually sleep for whole nights.” It has been so long, his twisting heart recognizes. He tries not to think about it.

He notices how you shift awkwardly in his periphery, suddenly reminded of your crush on him. Guilt, he feels a bit of that.

“Oh,” you say again and he is pleasantly surprised when the sound is not accompanied by another apology.

You are staring at your fingers when he looks over at you, your profile contorting with faint sheepishness. The large sweater you wear kind of swallows you, socks big and fuzzy over your feet that are criss-cross in front of you. A sight that revives his smile more easily than he would like.

His smile that dies quite rapidly once more when he notices that you are still shivering.

The heavy duvet laid out across his sheets comes to mind, the warmth and comfort it provides. Seungmin’s teeth begin chewing at his lip as he stares at you.

He is not sure for how long the silence has stretched before you turn to meet his eye with a mildly questioning expression. His thoughts were too loud that he did not realize the lack of any conversing.

“You’re still cold,” is all he can think to say.

Quickly, you grip one hand with the other, probably as to hide your shaking. Seungmin frowns.

“I’m really fine,” you insist. “Compared to my place, this is so much better. I- I just need a moment to… warm up.”

Seungmin really is much too tired, as ridiculous ideas swim in his head and do not sound as ridiculous as he knows them to be. Sleep, he needs to sleep.

He thinks he sees your jaw quivering a bit, teeth probably hacking. His lungs constrict.

“You could- ahh…” Seungmin’s eyes fall closed, mind whirring with restless delusions.

He is not in his right mind, he should not make this offer. It is weird. It is creepier than collecting your own nail clippings, he is sure. Sleep, he just needs some sleep.

The clock hanging on the wall ticks and tocks and Seungmin’s toes curl.

You look puzzled when his eyes reopen.

“I have a big bed.” He internally curses the opening sentence, cheeks heating and distracting him. “Uh, and warm covers. It’s- It’s really the only warm place in here and- ugh, I sound like a freak, don’t I?”

A small smile grows across your lips and Seungmin cannot decide whether it relieves him or bothers him.

“I guess it’s a bit weird but- this whole situation is kind of, weird too.”

Seungmin nods, hairline still sticky as his fingers slide along it. Or sticky again. “Yeah, so, I just- Two people can fit in there pretty well. I mean- You might get a cold if you, stay here and- I don’t know.”

“I mean...” Your fingers pick at each other over your lap as you watch them.

Seungmin remembers your crush again and knows that if he were in his right mind, he would not entertain your liking toward him so easily. Hell, he would not offer sharing his bed with anyone he barely knows, no matter who the anyone was. He really, really needs to sleep.

“I guess,” you continue and Seungmin feels somehow relieved that you seem reluctant. “Okay.”

A stillness encases the two of you then and no one moves for a long moment. Until the rate at which Seungmin’s heart beats begins picking up, just a bit.

The short trip to Seungmin’s bed feels long and slow and he presses himself as close to the wall as he can muster when he crawls on to his mattress for the third time that night. He notices that you also lie as far from him as the bed allows and only hopes that you will not fall over the edge.

“Thank you,” you whisper, duvet quickly pulled up to your chin.

“No problem,” he replies and snow still falls to cover the roads and pavements on the other side of the window. Though, the storm has calmed some.

Those words were your respective wishes for a good night. Or morning, rather.

But Seungmin can tell with the time that passes and passes, that you are both still awake. He hears it in your controlled breathing, back turned to you as he stares into his wall. A wall whose marks he is familiar with in the same fashion he is with the ones on his ceiling. His ears ring again, always. It is too quiet still.

Having another body near him proves to not be enough, his tired eyes tell him. A sigh is suppressed within his lungs, as to not alarm you. His fist tightens beside his face.

Surprise alerts him when you are the one to break the silence.

“You still awake?” you ask quietly, though it is loud while vibrating against the shells of Seungmin’s ears. He appreciates it, it unwinds his fist.

A second or a couple pass before he answers.

“Yeah.”

He feels the mattress move beneath him as you presumably shift, stiffening him in his position. Anticipation widens his eyes as he awaits your next move.

“Do you-” You cut yourself off and Seungmin can hear his heartbeat. He wonders briefly if you can, too. “I can hold you if- if you, want.”

That catches the man off guard and he needs a moment to register your proposal. You can hold him. If he wants.

The thought causes something to bloom and spread inside his chest, something he cannot quite pinpoint, something he has not felt in too long. It is almost uncomfortable.

Seungmin turns clumsily atop his sheets, springs whimpering within the mattress, until he is met with your wide-eyed stare. He imagines your cheeks to be stained a rosy kind of color but it is too dark to confirm it.

You wait patiently for his reply, seemingly readying yourself for rejection and the following embarrassment by troubling your lip.

He wants to save you from feeling that. He wants to sleep.

“You sure?” he questions.

He notices how you inhale deeply, eyelids blinking at him for a while.

“Yes, of course,” you assure, exhaling and Seungmin feels your breath tickling his nose. You like him too easily. He accepts too easily.

“Okay.”

Neither of you move at first, waiting for the other to do so, before your lips curl and the both of you cannot help but let hushed laughter slip and mingle in the air still separating you.

You scoot forward slightly and Seungmin quickly follows suit, until his head is suddenly tucked beneath your chin and his cheek is pressed against your chest. It is an effortless fit. Or Seungmin is just too tired.

This is weird, he knows. But it does not feel weird. He really needs to fucking sleep.

It takes a moment, his eyes wide and his heart jumping against his ribs. He hears that yours sounds similar, Seungmin’s ear hot while pressed to your sweater. And dread almost starts to boil in the pit of his stomach as he slowly begins feeling like this will not work. That this was a horribly awkward mistake and that he will never be able to meet your eye again.

But your palm resting on his back distracts him from the looming distress, other hand eventually rising to hold the side of his head, near his temple. Your heartbeat slows beneath your sweater, chest rising and falling and demanding Seungmin’s attention.

It is warm, it is no longer too silent and Seungmin places a careful arm across your waist. His weight sinks into the mattress below, limbs heavy alike his eyelids that he soon realizes have fallen shut. You smell kind of sweet beneath Seungmin’s deep breaths, his lips parting when his jaw slackens.

He wonders who will be indebted to who when the sun soon rises. And that becomes his last thought before a wave of slumber washes him away.

copyright © 2024 woozyvee. all rights reserved.

[esmerulia-chantelle]

Insecure

Azul Ashengrotto x GN!Reader

Summary: You fell in love with Azul and wanted to confess your feelings but your negative thoughts and feelings of insecurity make you think otherwise. And what about Azul? What does he truly think and feel about you?

Notes: Angst with comfort. Mentions of being insecure; of not being deserving of someone else. If this makes you uncomfortable, please do not read.

A/N: Kind of self-indulgent and was just feeling the angst when I originally thought and wrote this. 😭😭 But we have comfort because my heart can't bear it if it's only angst. And some fluff too. 🥹🥹

A repost from my old blog @escha-evenstar. Edited.

You liked to think you were just an average person. You didn't consider yourself smart, but at least you got good grades in school despite coming from another world. You didn't consider yourself popular, but you were at least well-liked by the students and have made friends with a lot of people. You didn't consider yourself beautiful. Just average. Boring. Lame. That was you. Nothing about you stood out.

But then you meet this guy named Azul Ashengrotto and he stood above the rest. He was your everything.

Sure, things started off... not so friendly. But after his Overblot, you started becoming closer with each other.

Azul seemed the same, except he kept making exceptions for you.

"Tutoring for alchemy? Well, that comes with a price, you know?" He said with a smirk. "But as a token of our... friendly relationship, I'll teach you for free. ...as long as you don't disclose this to anyone."

Except, he didn't mind being physically close to you.

"W-what are you doing?!" He exclaimed with a blush on his face. "...you're hugging me as a thank you? It's not necessary. .......I didn't say I didn't like it. Just... at least tell me next time?"

Except, he was more relaxed and open with you.

"I'm fine, Y/N. But I really need to sort out and finish this paperwork by tonight." Azul let out a sigh. "...okay. I relent. I'll take a break. 10 minutes. ...you prepared some tea? You're really something, aren't you?" He chuckled. "How shall I repay you for your kindness? ...you want another story? Well, there's this coin I found when I was younger......"

You didn't notice these subtle changes in Azul and just continued to interact with him as you usually did.

Each day, your affections for the octomer grew more and more until you realized you had now fallen in love with him. And it was the moments like these that you held closely to your heart.

Oh, how he makes your heart flutter.

You love how smart and clever he is. You love how hardworking he is and how he always gives his best effort to every single thing. You love how smooth and confident he is. You love how he could be shy and get flustered too from time to time. You love his mischievous smirks and small but genuine smiles. You love his merform and human form. You love a lot of things about Azul. In fact, you love everything about him.

How you wished to tell him of your true feelings.

But you didn't.

You valued what you have with Azul. Yes, you actually wanted more. You wanted to establish a romantic relationship with him.

But what were the chances he felt the same towards you?

You were a blur— a smudge, compared to everyone else. You were nothing. Yet he was everything.

Sometimes, you try to think positive about yourself.

Maybe I could actually be special enough for him?

You tried to think long and hard about the good qualities you have. And after a nice heart-to-heart talk with your friends together with some encouragement, you decided to confess.

Or at least you planned to.

But then you saw Azul talking with someone else.

Wow. They look pretty/handsome.

They seem to be having fun.

They look happy together.

......

Am I pretty/handsome?

Am I fun to be around with?

...would you be happy Azul if you were with someone like me?

......

The negative thoughts kept circling around your head. Suddenly, your cheeks felt wet.

You were crying.

It hurt. It hurt so much.

Because after all, how could someone like you be with someone like him?

Azul noticed you walking by and immediately excused himself from the person he was talking to. He followed after your steps in a brisk pace and called out to you.

"Y/N!"

But you didn't look back. Instead, you seemed to walk even faster. And Azul found it strange. He jogged up to you and caught your wrist with his hand.

"Y/N! I was calling for you and—"

Your eyes met his and Azul's heart clenched in pain from the sight of your weeping face.

"What happened? Who did this? I'll make sure they pay for what they did to you!"

You pretended it was nothing and laughed it off. "Hehe. It's nothing Azul. Don't worry about it," you said as you wiped away the heavy tears. "I really need to get going though. I'll see you around!"

You turned your heel to leave but his hand never left your wrist. Your peculiar behavior only served to tighten his grip on you.

"What's wrong?" His voice came out soft and sweet as he asked you.

"Nothing's wrong."

"Then why are you crying?"

"I'm not." You sniffled, trying to hold back your sobs as you kept your gaze away from him.

"Would you at least look at me?"

You didn't answer his question. "I really have to go, Azul."

You pulled at your hand, trying to escape from his strong grip but he wouldn't budge. "Azul, please..."

"You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"I know."

"So tell me."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because what?"

"Just because, Azul! So please. Please! Just let me go."

Your voice cracked as heavy tears cascaded down your cheeks like a waterfall. Your knees gave in and you collapsed to the floor.

"Y/N!"

He kneeled on the floor beside you and held you close in his arms. You struggled to get out of his embrace but each attempt caused Azul to hug you tighter even more.

"Y/N, I don't know what's caused you to be like this so please tell me what's wrong so I can help you."

Why...?

Why won't you tell me?

Upon hearing no answer from you, Azul sighed. "Alright. I won't press the issue for now, but how about we go back to the Lounge? I'll brew you a nice drink and bring you some snacks. How does that sound?" He gave you a small smile to be more comforting.

Why are you so sweet like this?

Did I do something wrong?

"Y/N?"

Please stop. You're making it harder to let go...

Please tell me. Don't push me away...

"Please...?" Azul felt his voice wavering as he pleaded with you.

After a few seconds of sniffling, you spoke. You said it so quietly his ears almost didn't pick it up.

"....I don't deserve you," you mumbled.

"What?" Azul felt confused. He pulled backwards a bit to look at your face. "What are you talking about?"

His eyes met yours and he reached out his fingers to wipe away the tears. It pained him to see you like that.

"Why are you being like this?" You said.

"Like what?" He asked.

"Why do you treat me like this?"

"Is there.. something wrong with it?"

You gave him a weak laugh. "Hehe. Nothing's wrong." You stopped crying and chose to stare back at his blue eyes.

I want to tell you something.

"You're.. really sweet, Azul." A tiny smile made its way on your face.

You were smiling at him, but Azul felt there was still some sadness on the inside.

"I'm glad you think so, but—"

"And you're so kind. And smart. And handsome. And—"

You continued to sing your praises and Azul was stunned from each compliment that came out of your lips. The tips of his ears turned red and his cheeks were warm.

Why are you telling me this?

Your hands slowly made their way up to cup his face.

It's best I tell you now and get it over with.

"I—"

You wanted to say it out loud. But you couldn't. You were afraid.

"You're perfect, Azul. And to me, you're someone worth loving. Always remember that."

You inched your face closer to his and placed your lips on top of his beauty mark, right near his lips, in a soft, sweet kiss. You meant for it to be short, but you couldn't help but linger there for a few more moments as poured your love into the kiss.

Is.. this what I think it is? A kiss? From you?

You later pulled yourself away. Your heart thrummed loudly and a pinkish hue dusted your cheeks. You could see the blush on his face as well but you didn't exactly know what he was thinking. You gazed at each other's eyes, trying to uncover the hidden thoughts and feelings.

I wonder what you're thinking.

I wonder what you're thinking.

I'm thinking a lot of things about you.

I'm feeling a lot of things for you.

But...

And...

"Goodbye, Azul." You gave him a bittersweet smile before turning away and left.

Wait. What? Why are you leaving?

You felt the familiar wetness in your eyes. You were about to cry again. You clutched your chest and bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears from falling again.

Just walk. Just keep on walking.

You told and willed yourself in your thoughts to keep going. To walk away and leave him behind. But a familiar pair of strong arms wrapped around you from behind.

"...Azul?"

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To... Leave?"

"Why?"

"Because..."

"Because you think I don't feel the same way as you?"

Your eyes widened in surprise.

"Let me tell you something, Y/N. You're wrong. And also, you missed."

Azul grabbed your shoulders and spun you around. He placed one hand around your waist to pull you closer and the other on the back of your head before leaning down to kiss you directly on your lips.

It all happened so fast. You got turned around. Your eyes just blinked and suddenly, his face was there and his soft lips were pressed against yours.

Your face became flushed with warmth and your heart raced so fast it might just leap out of your chest. He was kissing you. Azul was kissing you. On the lips. You were so shocked that even as he pulled back a bit, you stood there still as a statue, staring at him with a flustered expression.

"I love you, Y/N."

"What?"

"I love you. I know I'm not the best person there is but... I really want to be with you. Will you let me?"

The tears you tried to hold back came crashing down like waves from the ocean.

"Didn't you hear me?" You said while sobbing. "You're perfect, Azul. Perfect. Meanwhile, I'm just a nobody. I'm nothing. I don't deserve you, Azul."

Your cries reached Azul's ears and he was taken aback from your response.

"How can you say that? You aren't nothing!"

"But I am! You deserve someone else. Someone prettier/more handsome. Someone that's not boring. Someone that's—"

"Stop it."

"I'm just saying the truth. I'm—"

"I said stop, Y/N."

"But—"

He pushed you against the wall and pinned your wrists to your sides.

"It hurts me when you say that. You're worth so much more than you think, Y/N."

He kissed you. Again. And again. And again.

"You're the most attractive person there is. You're fun and you make me smile every time I'm with you. You make my heart go crazy. You're always in my mind. Only you make me feel like this."

He kissed you for every sentence that left his lips.

"You're the one I love, Y/N. And there's no one else I want except you."

"You... You really mean it?" You asked while looking at him through glossy eyes.

"Of course I mean it. I meant everything that I said." He pressed his forehead against yours. "And I'll keep reminding you every single day that you're worth everything to me. And that you're the only one I love."

You felt the genuine and passionate love he held for you and it resounded deeply in your heart. It made you cry even more.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Emphasizing his promise to you, he cupped your face and kissed you once more. He felt your hands traveled to rest on top his hands as you kissed him back in response.

"I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too, Azul."

"Will you let me be yours and make you mine?"

His long fingers wiped your tears away again while he waited for your answer with bated breath.

You noticed how eagerly he was anticipating your answer. You couldn't help but giggle a bit and gave him a bright, joyous smile before saying your answer.

"Yes."

It was one of the best things that happened in your life.

Like the moment you said 'Yes' when he knelt down on one knee and proposed to you.

And the moment you both said 'I do' and shared a most heartfelt kiss as a symbol of your marriage.

Things weren't perfect. Life is full of troubles, after all. Some days, you felt insecure again. Some days, it was Azul thinking what he was doing wasn't enough and that he'll never be enough. But two of you were always there to pick each other up. You kept your promises and always made sure to tell and show each other how much they're not the negative things they think about.

That he is worth so much more.

That you are his everything.

That you will always love him for him.

That Azul will always love you for you.

Always... and forever.

Masterlist here!

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