#cw implied spicy stuff

[an-albino-pinetree]

Warnings: Suggestive content, nudity, selfship

MINORS AND BLOGS WITH AGELESS BIOS DO NOT INTERACT! (I do check!)

It had been a while, so I drew spicy self indulgence while waiting for my internet to work again

[sundeathh]

Spicy Headcanons 🌶

MASTERLIST

Featuring: Shota Aizawa • Words: 1.3K+

CW: NSFW | 18+ only. MDNI. Kink description, explicit sex language, implied heterosexual dynamics.

Shota has a sensitive neck and ears. All it takes is a kiss on his neck or a lick on his ear to make him melt. He's also weak to nibbles or whispers - it turns him on a lot, and if you dare to do any of those things, you better not stop there.

Shota is a switch. He likes to take control in bed and enjoys being dominant, but he also likes to be on the bottom and be taken care of from time to time.

Shota can be quite the demanding one, but when he's not dominating, he likes to be gentle and sweet. He can act pretty much vanilla when he's stuck in a rough routine. (It doesn't mean it won't be good, though.)

On the other hand, he can engage in hard-core stuff as well. Gotta a rough, BDSM kink? Talk it out – he's in the game.

He likes to spank you and punish you when you're being a brat. (You're always a brat just so he has an excuse to punish you). 

Aizawa didn't have toys of his own aside from ropes he bought to use on you. He's not against using toys, though – if you have them and want to use them, he'll do so; if you'd like to acquire a new one, he'll buy it, too. It's just something he didn't have before you asked for it.

He sometimes lets (or explicitly asks) you to take the lead. Sometimes, he's just so tired and stressed out from work that all he wants to do is get home to have you ride or go down on him.

And how he loves your lips there! Don't get me wrong – he loves to give you oral, too. (In fact, he'll drive you mad and have you begging whenever he eats you out). But honestly, if he had to choose, he'd say he would rather receive it than give it. Your mouth is just too good. 

He has high stamina and can go on for hours, but oral is something that can bring him to climax and wear him out quite fast if you're not careful enough to let him last longer.

When he feels like himself, he usually goes for the second round. But when he's exhausted from work, he'll want to finish after the first. Sometimes, he goes for the third one, but it's rarer. He feels rather tired after the second one. Usually, when he goes for the third, it's way quicker than the other two.

Aizawa has a praise kink. He likes pet names, little compliments, and to be told about how good he is and how great he's making you feel. He wants to prove his worth, and hearing you praise him makes him feel good about himself. 

He loves your thighs. He'll squeeze them, nibble them, suck on the inner sides, and kiss all the way up to your core to have you squeeze his head between them.

Hair pulling is a must. Both yours and his. If you do it the right way (mild force but firm grip right above the nape), you might even yank a moan out of him. 

Shota likes to be marked and to mark you. He'll make sure to leave at least one hickey somewhere in your body every time you're intimate (usually, he leaves more than one). He doesn't like to show it around, of course. But he likes knowing he has a mark you left on his skin under his clothes. 

He didn't know this, but he has very sensitive nipples. Once you find out about this, it's a whole new world of pleasure you can unravel on his body for him. But be careful! It's a new sensation to him, and he can become easily overwhelmed at that spot.

He's not opposed to pegging. In fact, he likes it – but only if it's done with care and gently. He won't let you do that if he doesn't trust you enough for fear of getting hurt.

Shota LOVES to tease. To make you beg for mercy. To have you whimpering his name, hoping he'll grant you what you so desperately need. It makes him feel powerful to hold your pleasure like that. He'll let you reach your peak afterward, but not without a long road of pleading. 

However, when it's you who is teasing... God forbid the punishment you'll get once you're done with him. He is an absolute BRAT when he's getting teased and will misbehave a lot. (Still loves it in the end).

Aizawa doesn't care much about giving you anal – he'll probably never ask for it. He doesn't see much sense in putting unnecessary strain on your body, especially that you might not be comfortable with. So, if you actually like it, you'll have to ask him directly. (Maybe even talk to him beforehand, to let him know clearly that he won't hurt you).

Because, yes, he's terrified of hurting you unintentionally in that sense. He'll immediately stop if he senses that you're uncomfortable at any point.

And when he does inflict pain on you intentionally because he knows you like it, he'll always start gently and progress slowly to see your level of comfort. He will always check on you.

Talking is another must. Shota takes sex very seriously, and that's not something he does with just anyone. So, before you get to that point with him, you'll have to make things clear and set boundaries for the both of you to be comfortable.

Shota is not very vocal when he's on top since he gets too focused on pleasuring you. Usually, he only makes some low grunt sounds, depending on the intensity of the moment. When he gets closer to climaxing, he'll hold back his moans, but you'll still know he's getting close because his breathing gets a lot heavier and louder. And sometimes, he growls when he finally comes.

However, if you're the one on top, he can relax further and it becomes easier for you to get a moan out of him. Still, they're usually low and breathy. 

On the other hand, he LOVES to hear your voice. Whether you're moaning, whimpering, or whispering, it gets him really aroused and makes the whole experience a lot more enjoyable for him. He will also praise you for that quite often. 

Shota also has a breeding kink. The thought of getting you pregnant with his child makes him excited, but he'll never push it if you're not into the idea. Still, he likes to come inside you and will ask your permission for him to do so once you become regular with each other. He'll stop asking once you two get close (he tends to let you know when it's coming, though). If you don't like having him spreading his seeds inside you, he'll pull out and finish on your belly, back, or thighs. 

Shota is not open about which position he likes the most, but you can tell which ones he enjoys since he often goes with the missionary or horizontal cowgirl positions. He likes to have your bodies pressed together and to see your face when you're intimate. He loves the sense of intimacy and connection it gives him.

He's not very talkative during aftercare. However, he'll always ask you how you're feeling and if you need anything (like water, for example). He'll get up to provide you with whatever you ask him and will help you clean up, but afterward, all he wants to do is cuddle with you in silence and stroke your hair or rub your back. 

He also loves it when it's you the one caressing, but he might fall asleep pretty fast that way, so he doesn't always let you do that because he feels guilty for leaving you awake.

In general, Aizawa believes that sex is not something banal one does with just anyone but rather an activity to do passionately with someone he trusts and cares about.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated!

[nastylittleghouls]

M! Would you tell us about Aether wearing these around the Abbey?

First of all, Jim, I appreciate you so much 💜 Second of all, we all know Aether's magnificent behind would see a lot of action when he wears those pants around the Abbey. From Siblings and Ghouls and Papa's alike. Most of all from Copia. We know just how much he loves Aether's ass. And Aether? He'd use it as a response and invitation for almost everything and at the end of the day he'd be filthy and sore in so many ways.

So I scribbled a lil thing.  5+1 moments where Aether got his "patch(es) kissed". There's mildly spicy entertainment under the cut. No Papa's included this time (they might get their own someday) and no refunds of your time if it actually isn't entertaining and my brain fog suffering med addled self was lying to me.

CW: Implied consensual free use, somnophilia. Unbeta'ed.

Divider by @wrathofrats - AO3 for the so inclined

Booty calls (He sure hopes it does)

1.

It‘s cathartic. Being alone and singing his heart out, that is. Letting himself sink into someone else's happiness without having personal ties to them. It’s something he needs more than he cares to admit. To himself and even less to the pack. He thrives on being social and being connected so deeply, don‘t get him wrong, but it‘s draining. Feeling other beings alongside his own all the time. The many unfortunate souls that seek shelter here. Chewed up and spit out by a society that produces loneliness en masse. Crushed souls and shattered minds hopeful for a new beginning and….

He sings even louder, over the dark cloud threatening to form in his mind, and shimmies with a pile of clothes in his arms through the room. His tail swishing and bopping, used as a makeshift microphone when he gets carried away by the vibes.

He bends over to stuff the washing machine full, ass still wriggling to the tune on the radio, when a pair of hands still his swaying hips and warm lips burn right through the layers of fabric, pulling a startled chuckle out of Aether. First on the patch, following its invitation to kiss it, then right on the seam between his cheeks. Further down on the banana, followed by a bite that has his breath hitching in anticipation. He knows what the sight of him doing so mundane, so humanly domestic things like laundry does to Dewdrop. 

He feels the same when Dewdrop is in his element, showing his magic in the kitchen. A natural in combining flavors and textures and bringing Aether to his knees for a taste.

„It says kiss it not eat me alive“

He feels, more than he hears, Dewdrop's low laugh when the water pump signals the starting washing cycle. The old thing’s too loud when it gets going but the vibrations do wonderful things to him, as Dewdrop hooks his fingers into and drags the waistband down to bare Aether to his hungry gaze.

 „Let me kiss it properly then“ is all he hears before Dewdrop spreads his cheeks and seals his lips over his hole, making out with it until Aether’s knees buckle and he has to grip the edge of the machine to keep himself upright. 

 Aether doesn‘t get around to folding the dry laundry waiting for him.

2.

After breakfast, Aurora and Sunshine make it a game to follow him around making loud obnoxious kissing noises when he turns his back to them. Aether pretends to ignore them until, in one careless second, they get too close and he gets his hands on them. He contemplates just sitting on them until they cry for mercy but decides to dump them unceremoniously into the lake and let the water ghoul conference deal with those brats.

3.

Around midday, he helps Ivy maintain his namesake on the Ghoul Wing walls. He’s standing on a stepstool, sweating as the sun beats down on him, gently removing some stray vines from the wooden window frames and hooking them into the growth support on the walls. It’s necessary work, otherwise they’ll infiltrate the whole building.  A gaggle of siblings has been hiding behind the columns for a while now, dissolving into helpless giggles every time he looks over at them, talking to each other in hushed, excited voices. 

„I can‘t just go up to him and….“ 

Aether can practically hear the wild hand gesturing.

„it‘s obviously an invitation!“ 

“But…”

“What what in the B…”

Someone snickers. A smacking sound follows. 

“He’s so big, just imagine….”

He laughs to himself at that, amused. He can smell the faint arousal mixed with a dash of fear. Can feel it in the aura surrounding them. Some of them are new and haven’t had the time to experience what a ghoul can and would do to them. Just dared to let their minds wander. Most of them think the masks are infused with a containment spell, making them harmless servants of the church. And, in Aether’s opinion, that’s half of the fun of the whole cat-and-mouse game. 

One sibling, clearly more shy than the others from what he’s observed today, finally breaks away from the group and leaves their hideout behind the stones. They walk straight, seemingly confident. A closer look reveals that their hands are shaking and that the fine line their lips are forming doesn’t stem from determination. 

They stop behind him, eyes firmly trained on the patch on his ass. A minute ticks by and just in time, he turns his head to see them raise their hand to their mouth. An exaggerated smooching sound follows and two fingertips press firmly against the patch. Aether wriggles his ass a little and cheers erupt behind him. 

They finally look up at him and he sends a wink their way.

“I appreciate someone that can follow instructions like that”

They smile in response before their eyes widen in realization and they almost fall over their own feet to run back to their friends. 

Yet, they linger. When Ivy makes him take a break it‘s the patch stuffed into their mouth, muffling the pleasured chants of his name.

4. 

During a nap on the couch in the common room, it‘s Swiss that follows his patch‘s invitation. Lips firm, nose pressed so far into the swell of his butt that Aether could swear he can feel his teeth. Swiss does it once, twice. A third time. Aether smiles sleepily, about to comment if it wasn’t on for the fourth,  where Swiss just keeps his face buried there and starts snoring. He ruffles the other Ghoul's hair affectionately before he closes his eyes and follows Swiss back into dreamland.  

He wakes to Swiss’ sliding the hard ridge of his cock against the letters on his ass, forcing Aether‘s hips into the couch over and over until they both come. 

„Messy kisses are the best“  Swiss smirks as he watches his cum seep in. 

5. In the evening, Aether goes to fetch some firewood from behind the greenhouse. 

Mountain steps in front of him when he’s about to leave.

„Road toll. You shall not pass without paying up“ 

The look on Mountain‘s face is almost unbearably cheesy and Aether can‘t help but play along. 

„And what, dear sir, can I offer you to let me through?“

Now, Mountain's eyes start to glint mischievously and he takes the wood from Aether, dropping it unceremoniously on the ground next to them. Then he steps closer and draws Aether up against himself with a firm grip on his ass, fingers digging deep into the patch on the inside of Aether’s thigh. It forces the Quint onto his tiptoes.  

“I have a craving for banana and cream”.

+1

When Aether faceplants into his nest after his shift in the infirmary the next morning, only clad in boxer shorts, it doesn’t take long for Dewdrop to crawl between his legs and drop another kiss onto his ass where the patch had been sitting for too long in his opinion; giving Aether’s body freely away. It feels like a nod to the events in the laundry room yesterday when he was sending him off as he’s now welcomed back. 

“I missed you, starlight”  The words come sometime in between bouts of scenting him. In a narrow time frame when he pauses and starts anew. More of a breath than a sentence.

“Missed you too, firefly” 

Aether says and sinks into the feeling, lets the emotions that well up thrum through their bond, and accepts Dew’s in return. It’s easy when it’s him. A being so deeply interwoven with his own for so long.  A part of him wishes it would never end, the other wishes Dew would let him roll over and reciprocate sooner than later.  

Finally, after giving himself a moment to playfully nip into Aether’s thighs where Mountain left his mark earlier, he nuzzles and kisses his way up Aether‘s back. Aether inhales -  sharply -  then exhales - slowly -  with a laugh and reaches behind him blindly to tangle his fingers in Dew’s hair, craving more contact.

“Easy, easy. I’m here. All yours again”

Dew settles around him like warm summer rain. Calming, warm. The need to reclaim swinging along like an afterthought. 

“Want to mark you inside. Let me?” 

It’s a demand, packaged in a whispered question, to a star who would never say no to being consumed by fire. 

[skele-bunny]

Just finished your Sodo/Aether and Calida fic. Will you write her more?

THIS IS INSANE I WAS JUST RAMBLING ABOUT CALIDA TO A FRIEND....... I'll absolutely post more about her!

Context for those who don't know: Calida is Dew's kid, with Step Dad Aether!

(CW - lightly Implied abuse and pregnancy from assault, but this is a fluff post!)

While Calida came from cruel touches and heavy hands around Dew's throat, he loves her more than anything in the world. He doesn't regret her, she's his main reason to continue living in fact!

When Aether wanted to claim her since Ifrit didn't, it took Dew a HOT minute to be able to calm down agree. Aether loves her so fucking much bro... He's a girl dad, loves wearing those silly glasses while she's in his chest harness with an identical pair, dressing her up only in the cutest dresses and onesies!

She has this weird thing for teething on her parent's guitar tuning pegs, and has even done it to Rain and Swiss' sjjejd. Also keeps trying to eat Copia's rats. There is no stopping where her teeth go. It has tormented so many tails, fingers, and shoes.

Dewdrop has extreme separation anxiety when it comes to leaving for tour and leaving Calida with Aether for the first time. He's having breakdowns just left and right, asking Copia if he can please just bring his daughter. She was born while he was on tour, he doesn't seem the issue now! He's eventually calmed down and reassured by Aether to just trust him, stay focused on tour, and simply coming back home.

Every morning, before and after shows, and before bed Aether will video call Dewy so he can show Calida. She's just grabbing the phone and pointing. "Mana." Then back to Aether "Daba." (Mama Banana, Daddy Banana)

"Yep! That's Mana!"

Dew loves seeing their daily adventures while he's gone, it helps ease him and his worry. He'll get random pictures through the day of Calida and Aether always doing something silly, her napping, chewing their guitars, or just absolutely covered in lunch/dinner. Sometimes he'll send pictures of her with Sunny, Special, Cowbell, and once even with Mist with the caption; "Auntle Mist to the rescue when someone got fussy."

While Dewdrop is out with the pack and shopping, he always ALWAYS gets Calida something. Usually a new outfit or toy, but sometimes a decoration for her room, a new teether, just anything he thinks she'll like. It's gotten to the point he's had to put some of his stuff in the overhead compartments in the bus they use for a pantry. It's not uncommon to grab a snack and a baby shoe falls out. It happens!

But Copia? That man is worse than Dew and Aether COMBINED. Pop-Pop Copia constantly has gift bags for her, deliveries from online shopping, always taking the chance to hold her- sometimes even during mass if she's being a bit too loud, Papa will just scoop her up and continue the sermon. One time he even let her wear his mitre after mass!

When Papa Terzo was still around and Dew was so secluded with her, Terzo was the only one Dew even let come near her. Just shakily showing off his newborn kit, Terzo just awing over her little fangs and beanies. He constantly prayed over her, letting Dew lay against his side while they both held Calida. He wishes Terzo got to meet her more, but cherishes the bit they did.

And when Dew gets home? That ghoul cannot stop crying even if it was life or death. Just holding Calida so tight while Aether hugs them both. Just scenting all over her (even tho she always smells like Dew), kissing her chubby cheeks and letting her claws touch his cheek.

I keep joking that when her element first made itself known, she had accidentally gotten into Dew's spicy curry and sneezed fire (yes in Dew's bowl) and the entire table just stared before Aether; "She didn't get that from me." And Dew gives him the HARDEST glare like "you know damn well-" snkekd

Calida looks exactly like Dew (a bit more before his transition)! Black hair, his roman nose, and when she smiles her nose scrunches and the right side of her lip will curl up - just like Dew's!

They're honestly a really, really happy family. Sometimes Aether will nuzzle up behind Dew after she's gone to bed, his hands on Dew's waist.

"What do you think about giving Calida a sibling?"

[narrators-journal]

Persona 4 and 5

A sequence of chapter 43 between narukami, Margaret and sae.

Hi it's me again, i liked what you did with the prompts i requested, so i wanted a sequence of narukami coming home. You have Blank card to do whatever you want with that kinks i listed.

I Hope you are safe and okay, kudos sir♥️

This is short, but I had fun trying my hand at a basically mute bit of writing again. That being said, I couldn’t cook up anything TOO spicy or, like, interesting this time...so, just take this as a sort of prompt rather than a really good scenario.

CW: a bit of exhibitionism, vibrators, implied dom/sub dynamics. Implied milf!Margaret and her and Narukami having babies lol.

Usually, a window shopping expedition after one of his business trips wasn’t something Yu Narukami would want to do. He’d often come home from his work trips exhausted, so the thought of meandering around the crowded mall was pretty low on his ‘fun’ list. But, this time, there was the incentive of his newest pet having agreed to join him and his wife in yet another of their games.

I hope Sae’s really into this stuff, though, and not just going along with it from some form of peer pessure.He mused as they strolled around the corridors of stores and advertisements. Though, when he glanced over to the silver-haired prosecutor, she seemed as happy as she could manage in her predicament.

So, the ex-wildcard studied the two women who walked ahead of him. Margaret with her arm linked with Sae Nijima’s to keep her steady as they strolled through the mall ever so casually, and Sae at war with herself to try and curb the lustful noises Narukami could almost see threatening to escape her lips. Both wore casual clothes, Margaret in a flowy sun dress of daring white, and Sae in a sweat shirt and dark leggings. Leggings that the silver-haired man was sure were carefully picked to hide any lewd stains caused by the small vibrator she’d agreed to put in for the walk.

Of course, Margaret had her own toy within her cunt. However, unlike the prosecutor, his wife had an easier time with the remote controlled toy and the stimulation Narukami caused when he fiddled with the small remotes in his pocket. The contrast between the two’s reactions was a thrill and a half for the man. Even with the crowds of civillians going about their own lives around the trio. Though, maybe how oblivious everyone around them was while they window shopped and chattered was another thing that made his carefully hidden erection throb.

So, he went ahead and continued to feed that fire within himself. Careful as he tweaked the remote of Sae’s vibrator to not turn it too high and get them caught for their lewd challenge, but only strengthen the intensity of the toy slightly. Just enough to make the powerful woman’s pretty face twitch. She was good, though, with a skill for bluffing that she likely built up in her years as a lawyer. But, that was what had caught his and Margaret’s attention. She was like a wild horse for the man, not quite broken, a bit of a challenge, and a breath of fresh air to their married life.

Not that I’m bored of my marriage, though. Narukami mused, his attention allowed to drift to one of the shops while Sae and Margaret did their best to discuss normal topics, like whether or not Sae would buy a gift for her sister. But, I mean...after children, the spark is kinda...dying.

The thought stung a bit. One that sparked a bit of guilt that threatened to dampen the bonfire that simmered in his belly. However, when he heard Margaret covertly tease the prosecutor, the guilt was soothed a bit by the reminder that his bratty wife was just as into the game as he was. So, instead of being dampened, the lustful burn was increased further.

God, I’m gonna fuck the shit out of these two when we get home.

[hammerhead-jpg]

Hello friend! Why do you discuss nsfw and bas when you are 15! Uncomfortable!

Uncomfortable what? Are you uncomfortable? Because I'm not uncomfortable so I'm assuming you're saying that you're uncomfortable and if that's the case that's alright, you don't need to interact or even look at my posts, you can block me I probably won't notice

Before I answer your question I'm just going to make this post to guide anyone to that might pull the whole "aren't you a mineral 🤓 why don't you go do your homework kid 🤓" so that I don't have to keep repeating the same rant because I know that you aren't going to be the last person to say this

Aka warning this is a long response to a short ahh question so be prepared

And in the words of a wise man "excuse my vitriol, it's not really aimed at you"

If I talk about something in second person that you didn't say or imply, I'm not exactly making an accusation against you since, although I'm not the best at reading the tone of things through a screen, I'm going to assume your ask was well intentioned and not passive aggressive

To start off, just so you know, I don't have a Patreon for the reason that I am a minor and don't have a credit card. So when I talk about BA's I'm talking about the preview that is free for anyone to see. Those are nothing more than making out and a little bit of weewee didling, which I can tell you I've seen worse in some movie I've watched with my family when I was 12

Anyways, the short answer is: because I wanted to lol

I randomly came across some YY ass audio and it reminded me of the free like 3 minute long snippet of the David BA and I thought that was funny

I said "me stick me weener in jelly see though computer" because I thought it was funny

I wrote a Elliott x Scorpius smutfic that I didn't really post anywhere because I was bored and horny

The long answer:

I'm a teenager and I have hormones. It is very normal for me to feel those types of feelings and talk about those topics. I am at the point in my life where I've been taught about every STD and learned the latin name of every part of the male and female genitalia by the school system. I wanna go to fashion school I'm not your little girl anymore!!!

The only reason I see that anyone would have an issue with this is that it makes them uncomfortable. If it makes you uncomfortable you don't need to look at it. Literally anything that I post that is more spicy than a dick joke is tagged with "cw: suggestive" and has the "read more" thingy so that you need to click on it to see it.

There are so many obscure stuff that makes people uncomfortable and so I literally wouldn't be able to post anything because it might make someone uncomfortable

And I know that the whole "use your block button triggered puritan!!" thing can be hella annoying, especially when the person is like drawing borderline child porn and think that the only reason that people are mad at them is that they personally don't like it

But that statement is only annoying and untrue when the thing that you're mad about is harmful or bad in some way, and I don't know anything about me interacting or talking about nsfw media that is actively harming me or anyone else

If you want to say that it's making people uncomfortable or possibly even triggered, again, I put content warnings on anything truly suggestive or nsfw, in my about me post I specifically say that if a minor talking about nsfw topics makes you comfortable you are free to not interact!!

If you want to say that it will bring pedophiles and groomers to my page then that is just victim blaming, I understand if I was posting pictures picture of my ass or something but I am not, the most suggestive thing I've posted (so far) is a drawing of two grown consenting men doing the tongue twister

If you want to say that looking at nsfw media at a young age can cause hypersexuality and porn addiction I'd agree with you, but when people say that they usually mean like little children, like 6,7,8,9,10, not a whole teenager like me

And also- oopsies! I already developed hypersexuality from a young age from things that I didn't understand and were out of my control yikes! So it seems like that it's too late for that!

But also, being a total evangelical and forcing yourself not to express any kind of sexual feelings until the age of 18 can also lead to hypersexuality so like

And at the end of the day - sexual topics and sexuality is not something that we should treat with shame, it's a totally normal part of life especially for a teenager like me and just because it may be uncomfortable for you in particular doesn't mean that it shouldn't exist

And honestly most people that get their panties in a bunch when they see a minor say "my peepee wet rn" and act all wise and grown and then borderline attack the person are most likely just mad and have some sort of complex and are not actually concerned for the person in question

And also as a last little guilt trip, as I said I do struggle with hypersexuality and do in turn struggle with shame because of it and there just so happen to be things in my life that are mentally, socially and physically stopping me from ever enjoying sex in the future so if I want to enjoy this concept that the world seemingly revolves around by drawing or writing smut and maybe posting "haha Bakugo asmr sound like David BA" then maybe let me be

That being said me when Alexandar Solar:

[wonder-womans-ex]

Make a Promise

“Sirius,” Remus says, rolling onto his side to face the man beside him, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Shoot.” Sirius’s eyes stay focused on the ceiling above, but he smiles warmly. 

“Do you—well, you probably don’t remember, but when we lived together, before, in the flat with the piss-yellow walls and the floors that squeaked and the stove that never worked, I had a shoebox. Under the bed. And I never let you look in it.”

Sirius is quiet for a moment, then, “I remember.”

There were three things is the box. And I didn’t want you to see any of them, all for different reasons.”

“Why do I have the feeling you’re about to tell me what they were?” He’s teasing, but his eyes go soft when Remus replies, “Because you know me better than anyone.”

“The first thing,” continues Remus, “The one that took up the most space, was my registry papers. Documents of where I spent every full moon, what classification of werewolf I am, whether I’ve attacked anyone—that sort of thing. 

“Then there was a photo from first year. The one Peter took of James, you, and me after our first detention.” Sirius clenches his jaw, and Remus knows he’s thinking of their old friend. “For years, I thought I’d lost it, but then I was cleaning out the attic after my mum died, and there it was. And I kept it. Because in that photo, you’re looking at me like you looked at me after fifth year; like you look at me now. It just... amazes me, I guess, because we were eleven and we’d barely known each other a month, and already there was something there. I used to take it out, sometimes, when you were gone, and remind myself that what we had was real. It was... it was the only photo of you I didn’t burn.”

The silence envelopes them, heavy and painful, until Remus swipes a hand over his eyes. “Oh, fuck, I’m crying.”

“‘S’okay,” Sirius says, “so am I.”

“You know I love you, right? More than anything?”

“I know. I love you, too. Always and forever.”

Somewhere along the way, their fingers have twined together. Sirius, after giving Remus’s hand a reassuring squeeze, asks, “And the third thing?”

“The third thing in the box?” 

“Yeah.”

“A box.”

“A box. Inside a box.”

“That’s right.”

“How exciting.”

Remus rolls his eyes. “Shut up. What matters is what was inside the box.”

“What was inside the box inside the box?”

“You’re insufferable.”

“I try.”

“Do you want to know what was inside the box or don’t you?”

“Please, do tell.” The grin on Sirius’s face still does embarrassing things to Remus’s heart, even after all these years. “How about I show you, instead?” he says. 

Sirius nods. 

As he leans over to grab his wand from the bedside table, Remus takes a breath. No going back now. He performs a wandless summoning charm, looking anywhere but at Sirius. 

“So.” He snatches the box out of the air as it flies towards him. “I bought this our last Hogsmeade weekend of seventh year. And I meant to give it to you right after graduation, and then again when we bought the flat, and again when I found out James was planning on proposing to Lily, but things kept coming up and I kept putting it off, and eventually it was too late. So I’m giving it to you now.”

He stops. His lower lip is trembling. “Hold out your hands and close your eyes.”

Slowly, Remus presses the box into Sirius’s outstretched hands. “You can open your eyes now.”

Sirius does, eyelids fluttering, and his eyes fix onto what he’s now holding. He inhales so sharply it’s almost a gasp. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Probably.” Remus waits to see if Sirius is going to say something else. He doesn’t, so Remus goes on. 

“Padfoot,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, “you have known me since before I really knew myself. You taught me I matter; I deserve to be loved. You were the first person to find out what I was—what I am—and think no differently because of it. I have tried time and time again to find where I belong, and I never find that the answer is anywhere but with you.

“You are my world, Sirius Black, and it it because of you that I have the confidence to say I am yours. So I ask you, in the house of your awful parents who are probably rolling over in their graves right now... will you marry me?”

Sirius nods, the tears in his eyes spilling over. “Yes. Abso-fucking-lutely yes.”

And now they’re both crying, and they’re kissing each other on the cheek, the forehead, the mouth. Neither of them has ever been happier. 

Finally, Remus pulls back, prying Sirius’s fingers back from around the box, “Aren’t you going to look inside?”

For reasons he can’t quite explain, Sirius hold his breath a he opens the lid, deep red velvet contrasting starkly against thin, pale fingers. A smile spreads across his face. 

The ring inside glints gold; the four tiny rubies set in the band catch the early morning light. “It’s beautiful,” breathes Sirius, grin lopsided where his lip is between his teeth. “Can you...?”

It takes Remus a moment to realize what his boyfriend—fiancee, he corrects himself with a surge of joy—means. “Yeah,” he manages, taking Sirius’s left hand in both of his own and sliding the ring carefully onto the fourth finger. They stay there, palm to palm, for a long time, trading sweet nothings and gentle, chaste kisses. 

“I’ve been imagining how you’d look wearing that ring for nearly seventeen years,” Remus is saying when there’s a sharp knock on the door.

“Breakfast!” Both men look up when Molly’s shout rings down the hallway, neither speaking until she’s moved on to the next door. 

“Our first meal as engaged wizards,” Remus says, pulling Sirius to his feet. “C’mon.”

They wait, giggling and smiling at each other, until they’re sure everyone else has gone down, and then they race to to stars, still holding hands. They slide down the banisters, too; it’s like they’re sixteen all over again. 

At the first landing, Remus stops to push Sirius against the wall. “We’re getting married,” he murmurs into the kiss, and he feels Sirius smile against his lips. 

At the second landing, Sirius brings Remus’s hand to his face, pressing his mouth to each knuckle. 

They don’t stop on the third landing, but they do on the stair after it. Sirius almost falls over as he turns, one foot catching himself on the step below. 

“Can I take your last name?” His eyes are shining. 

Remus says, solemnly, “It would be my honour,” and they laugh again. 

The dining room does not go quiet when they enter. They make no grand enterance. Everyone else continues with their noise and clutter until Harry looks up from his game of chess; he nudges Ron, sitting opposite him, and both boys wave. 

Sirius glances sideways, catching Remus’s eyes. He raises an eyebrow.

Harry grins when Sirius sits down next to him. “Morning,” he yawns. “Ron’s checked my queen.”

“Good for him.”

Ron opens his mouth to say something, but Sirius never finds out what. With a flick of her wand, Molly has set out the silverware—it’s stainless steel, technically, so it doesn’t hurt Remus—and the plates, steaming with porridge. 

“Go on, eat,” she urges loudly, pouring out a cup of tea. “Don’t let it get cold.”

There’s a flurry of movement as everyone claims their place at the table. Remus ends up between Arthur Weasley and Sirius; he has to keep his elbows tucked in so as not to knock over anyone’s morning coffee. Across from him, Tonks is putting her metamorphagus skills to use, her Dumbledore imitation in particular sending Ginny into fits of laughter. 

He nearly burns his tongue on the first bite of porridge. Through the pain in his taste buds, he notices it’s quite good, and makes a mental note to compliment Mrs. Weasley on the recipe. Anyone who can make oats and water taste good, he reasons, is worthy of whatever praise falls their way. 

To his right, Sirius takes a thoughtful sip of his tea. They catch each other’s eyes and smile. 

Glancing around, Sirius sees that everyone is once more engrossed in conversation. Fred Weasley in particular is gesticulating wildly with his spoon, and Sirius has to duck to avoid a flying bit of porridge. Absentmindedly, he twists the ring on his finger around, rubbing his thumb over the four jewels. 

His chair almost topples over when he leans back in it, grabbing an antique crystal goblet from the shelf behind him. He takes the sugar tongs from the table, too, and then he stands up. 

Even with the ding ding ding of silver on crystal, it takes almost ten seconds for just one person—aside from Remus, of course—to look up. Hermione holds his gaze for a moment before leaning over and whispering something in Ginny’s ear. By the time he’s got everyone’s attention, he’s begun to contemplate sitting back down again. 

But, finally, there’s silence, and all twelve pairs of eyes in the room (minus his own, obviously) are on him. 

Sirius clears his throat. He resists the urge to climb on top of his chair, because a broken neck would not be a good start to his engagement. 

“Good morning!” he announces. “I, uh, I have news. Good news.”

Dear lord, he used to be a lot better at this. From somewhere down the table, there’s a mutter of, “Well, get on with it, then.”

Skipping the rest of the preamble, he allows his face to split into a smile. “We’re getting married.”

There is none of the happy amazement he expected. He receives no applause. What he does receive are slow blinks and confusion written on every face except his own and Remus’s. It’s Molly who eventually says something, and what she says is, “Congratulations! If you don’t mind me asking... who’s the lucky lady?”

Now it’s Sirius’s turn to be confused. “You mean... you didn’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Bloody hell.” He isn’t sure whether he should laugh or cry. “I thought we made it obvious enough.”

“Well, clearly you didn’t!”

“How much do we need to broadcast it for you to see what’s right in front of you? How often should we hold hands at mealtimes? During Order meetings? Do you want us to take down the silencing charms on the bedroom, too, so you can hear everything we say, everything we—mmph.”

Sirius is cut off when Remus stands up, grabs the back of his head, and smashes their lips together. Between all those times back at Hogwarts, and now this, it seems it truly has become a trend—Remus shutting him up by sticking his tongue in Sirius’s mouth, that is. 

They break apart far too soon for Remus’s liking, but they do have an audience, after all. He can imagine without looking the expression on Molly’s face, and his imagination is proved correct when he turns away, sliding his fingers down Sirius’s arm to clasp their hands together. “That should answer your question,” he says before anyone has the chance to pick their jaw up off the floor. 

It’s been silent for a while—or, at least, it feels that way; the grandfather clock by the opposite wall shows only thirty seconds have passed—when Sirius realizes they’re still standing. “Excuse us,” he says, and pulls Remus out of the room. 

Out in the hallway, they stare at each other for a few moments before bursting out in laughter. “Oh my god, Remus,” Sirius wheezes. “Oh my god. That was fucking incredible.”

Remus covers his eyes with one hand. “It was spur of the moment, okay? Bloody hell, that was—”

“Unbelievably attractive? Absolutely iconic?”

“So embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing for you, maybe. But that right there? That’s why I love you.”

“What, not my dazzling personality?” 

Sirius grins, leaning in. “Well, yeah, that too. And your gorgeous golden eyes, and your genius mind, and you smile that always makes me melt inside, and—”

“Okay!” yelps Remus, because he knows Sirius too well. “I get the idea!” His gaze is soft, though, and when Sirius reaches up to cup his cheek in one palm, he leans into the touch. 

Eventually, someone—Tonks, or Harry, or one of the Weasleys—will come to find them, demanding explanation. But for now?

It’s just them. 

And despite everything—despite who they’ve lost and what they’ve been through—they have each other. 

[xeawea]

platonic headcanons reader gives axe boy and little girl hot cheetos

axe boy 'robbie white' and 'little girl' (who will be referred to as alice) get hot cheetos from 'big sib (name)'

cw: crackfic, swearing, reader is implied gn, reader is interpreted to be a modern reader,,,p sure thats it

robbie "axe boy" white

your minding your business during lights out, headphones on, playing some single player game on a console, mashing buttons

so you dont exactly hear your door opening

it's startling, one minute your setting your headphones down to take a breather before start your nightly gaming up again, noticing that your heart is beating very fast and you can see it through the shirt you were wearing...

assuming it was simply just a hunter walking past your room you grab some of the hot cheetos you had open in a bag.

you jumped when you noticed robbie's blue hands

"jesus fuck, robbie!! you scared the fucking piss out of me!" you aggressively whispered to him, trying to not disturb the survivors sleeping in the rooms next to you

"gimmie your computer, i wanna play!" he demands, before looking at the bag you had your hand in.

"and gimmie the red stuff too."

"robbie you wont like it, its spicy."

"i will like it! pleeaassee big sib!"

"ugh. fine."

he ends up really liking them, so you move to your bed and robbie gets hot cheeto dust smeared on your keyboard and your mouse while playing fortnite, gross

alice "little girl" deross

your in the kitchen unable to sleep, scrolling on your phone as you snack on the hot cheetos

you hear the light footsteps of another survivor but say nothing until you hear a door creak and you look up from your phone.

alice is there, holding her plushie.

"can't sleep, alice?" you mumble, looking at her with a small smile.

after helping her up onto the counter you show her whatever social media your doom scrolling, showing her videos that are a little more appropriate for her

she notices your bag of food and has always loved sneaking and trying your snacks from the future.

after asking politely for one you give her half of one and a glass of milk, just in case it was too much for her.

she ends up not liking it and downs the glass

"nono! alice please don't cry. orpheus is gonna kill me..."

[livebloggingmydescentintomadness]

I'm hoping that you can help cure some of my sadness. I was watching the SPNNJ 2022 panel with Misha and Jensen earlier today. I noticed how different their dynamic is at that Creation con compared to JIBCON. Does Creation Entertainment not have them do many panels together? If so, why not? Do they feel censored somehow?

I also noticed a significant shift in their playfulness from the pre-covid JIBCONs to the most recent JIB. Granted, their most recent JIB panel seemed to be cut a bit short, so maybe they didn't have time for their usual shenanigans. What are your thoughts on this?

Has the relationship ended? Is it just how busy they are? Is there some recent-ish cockles material that I still need to find? I'm new to this and have been through your master list. Why do I care about them so much?!

hey there, hon. i understand the way you feel, but i think there's sort of this sense among newer cocklers that, like, if things have been quiet for a while, if we don't get regular, Big Deal shenanigans, then that indicates something is wrong.

having been in the dumpster for ten full years, i promise you: long silences between shenanigans are completely normal and absolutely do not mean anything is wrong.

we have less content overall now because jensen and misha aren't spending months on set together every year, but we've actually gotten more convention content in the last couple years than we used to. creation cons, as a rule, don't do cockles panels (there was one, in hawaii, i want to say 2017?) because of how they structure the panels and ops. the misha panel is the big event on saturday and the j2 panel is the big event on sunday, and then the photo ops and autographs take hours and hours. we've seen misha replace jared in a few sunday panels in the last couple years when jared announced he couldn't make it, which i can't recall ever happening before spn ended.

creation definitely, in my opinion, lowkey tries to keep jensen and misha separate, and the attitude is basically "if we had a jensen/misha panel then we'd also have to have a jared/misha panel, because there's nothing different about jensen/misha than jared/misha. get it? good."

(i think y'all newer folks also don't realize that we were not allowed to talk about destiel prior to cas's confession. we all knew but we were actively discouraged and shamed for talking about it or implying anything about it.)

so, yeah, we call jibcon cockles christmas because it used to be the ONLY time we ever got cockles panels, and it was the only time the cast could be more relaxed and honest, like they didn't have cw snipers trained on them at all times.

i agree that the jibcon12 energy was... more muted, at least in comparison to pre-covid panels, but i don't think it had anything to do with a change in jensen and misha's relationship. their panel was deliberately cut short, but they were very cute together, very flirty and intimate. i don't think the timing or mood was quite right for any outrageous antics, but they seemed really happy to be together, and that's all that really matters to me. :)

there's actually another jibcon coming up - what, next month? the end of this month? i think jibcon is the next con on the schedule, so we'll get to see them together again, and maybe something a little more exciting will happen.

but again, i promise that just because it's been a while since anything Spicy happened, that doesn't mean anything is wrong. they're both super busy, and they keep a lot of stuff private, but they seem as strong and steady as ever to me. don't worry. :)

[onedayillmakeanamebutnotrn]

tw/cw alot of temperature whump so basically anything to do with that is here like ice fire burns etc, caretaker is accidentally the whumper, small heart attack mention + small implied nudity mention

whumpee got alot of funy temperature whump idk what is in the temperature whump circle but im spitting this out anyways cold or hot water poured on them and/or being the only kinda water they can bathe/shower with and once the temperature changes its ether get out, refill, refill with the opposite temperature (i heard u can get a heart attack from this) hand on stove forced to keep ice in their mouth (maybe with mints) forced to keep hot water/hot food in their mouth (maybe spicy) ice/hot water is the only thing they are allowed get hydrated from hot food is the only thing they are allowed to eat and if it gets too cold its too late (gotta eat fast too then maybe ohoho) dumped in snow dumped in hot coals no/very little clothes during cold times many clothes during warm times etc etc now they are with caretaker they have vastly different senses of temperature with or without whumpee having trauma whumpee needs to shower/bathe or even just wash their hands/drink any liquid with a very specific water temperature caretaker thinks that its far too cold/hot and changes it whumpee needs to have a very specific body temperature depending on weather/temperature caretaker thinks its wayy too hot or cold for them to be dressed like THAT like arent you making it worse for yourself?? whumpee gets a complete intolerance towards mint and/or spicy stuff caretaker wouldnt know yet and has some light spicy/mintyish food or snacks (maybe even the toothpaste is too much) also whumpee might have a fear of ice somehow but oh no its a hot summer day and i got tasty lemonade with ice cubes in it !!! fear might also include any kinda fire, snow the mf oven, stove or microwave bc it just radiates heat and,,ohno scawwy,,, up to you how long this lasts before whumpee goes "ur a different breed from me and we have different definitions of cold and hot so please stfu and let me shower in a way i think is normal"

[an-albino-pinetree]

Warnings: aaaaa

yep

Carnival is back-

Anyway, whoopsies, can’t post these in full!- but hey! You can have these expressions-!

[daathdweller-art]

Behind that door

My entry for the @liushenweek Gift Exchange

Shen Qingqiu is torn, he can't understand clearly what type of feelings he's harbouring for his Liu-shidi, so he decides to buy a truth serum for them both. But he does not know that this demonic serum also contains a little amount of aphrodisiac. As he comes back to the tavern, he finds Liu Qingge alone there...

CW: truth serum, aphrodisiacs, implied ppp

I cut off all the spicy parts but you can find the full NSFW version on AO3!

Shen Qingqiu is utterly confused sitting on the bed in his room at the tavern. Earlier during the fight, he was thinking… What type of feelings is he harbouring for his shidi? And vice versa?

Liu Qingge keeps warning him that Luo Binghe wants to ravish him. Him! His shizun! Not that Shen Qingqiu dislikes his former disciple, but no no, absolutely out of the question! He'd never get involved with the former protagonist of a harem novel! Pfff, for his own sake, Shen Qingqiu decided to drop him.

But his shidi? Why has he warned him? Because the Bai Zhan Peak Lord is so protective towards the Qing Jing Peak Lord… or is it because Liu-shidi is jealous?

While Liu Qingge and Luo Binghe are at the tavern fighting for his attention, Shen Qingqiu put on clothes that don't belong to him. He shouldn’t look like a respectable sect leader while he’s out buying immoral substances. Rather, he should look like someone who's involved in pretty dark business. And whose clothes are more suited for that than Luo Binghe’s?

Shen Qingqiu feels like a genius for his idea but also like a little punk for wearing Binghe's clothes. At least he isn't ruining his immaculate reputation of being a Peak Lord. It is unheard of for a peak lord to buy such a serum on the illegal market! But! He has to know!

Is he attracted to men? And if yes, who's the one he likes most? Is it Liu-shidi? Is the feeling mutual?

Shen Qingqiu sneaks back to the tavern and before entering the room of his two mates, he drinks the truth serum acquired in the streets. He waits a short while until the effect unfolds, and mixes a splash of serum in a cup of tea.

Little does Shen Qingqiu know that the serum he's just bought contains a tiny part of aphrodisiac. They're close to the demon realm after all, and people there liked such weird stuff that helped them extort love confessions and then papapa their love interest; though it was never explicitly stated in the original novel.

Shen Qingqiu waves the paper fan in front of his face, feeling slightly hot… and aroused? Damn this serum is really powerful! Just thinking about his shidi makes him feel a bit head over heels! Ha! It must be a fated attraction! Shen Qingqiu, respectable Peak Lord of Qing Jing, walks out of his room and knocks at the entry to his neighbours' chamber. It’s quiet, no noise of fighting or quarrelling come from beyond the wooden entrance. He opens the door and pops his head in.

Liu Qingge is sitting at the desk looking composed as usual. He indeed has the noble bearing of a true war god, such an enviable posture, such a marvellous appearance.

"Liu-shidi?"

Liu Qingge looks up from the book he's reading.

Shen Qingqiu grins, "Where's Binghe?"

"Out!" Liu Qingge snaps.

"Good good," Shen Qingqiu slips into the room and serves him a cup of tea. He puts it on the desk, right in front of the other man. The familiar smell of green tea fills the room, it’s Shen Qingqiu’s favourite blend. Liu Qingge stares at him puzzled, his eyes wandering from Shen Qingqiu’s flushed face down to… the black clothes he’s wearing.

"Drink!"

"I'm not thirsty," Liu Qingge ignores him and his unusual attire. He’s just noticed that those clothes are a little too large for Shen Qingqiu’s slender figure. The collar has slightly shifted to one side, exposing half of his shoulder, showing the pale skin and his collarbone until the juncture of chest and arm. Liu Qingge swallows and pretends to focus on his book again.

"You look on edge. Drink this, it's for better sleep." Shen Qingqiu takes the booklet from his hands and moves the cup closer to Liu Qingge, urging him to drink. "Watcha so nervous for, Liu-shidi?" Shen Qingqiu bats his long lashes and opens the folding fan, waving it lazily in front of his face. "Hmmm?"

Liu Qingge does his best to ignore Shen Qingqiu’s unusual attitude, he grabs the cup and empties it in one sip, hoping the other will leave soon.

Shen Qingqiu grins mischievously behind the fan, great great, now let’s just wait. While observing his shidi, he remembers when he was reading the original novel, he imagined Liu Qingge to look like a stereotypical Hollywood war god, but he was surprised to find out that it wasn't the case. Apart from his athletic physique, Liu Qingge is far from the masculine beauty stereotype, he instead has delicate facial features, deep eyes, soft lush lips like rosebuds… and the beauty mark under his left eye… Shen Qingqiu wants to kiss it. He breathes deeply, his Liu-shidi really is an ethereal beauty, in complete contrast to his fiery and arrogant temper. Shen Qingqiu inhales the scent exuding from Liu Qingge’s skin, the smell though is so… masculine. Warm, pervasive, with a slight hint of sweat. Shen Qingqiu starts to feel something stirring in his lower belly, and why is he feeling so damn hot? That stupid serum must have some unwanted side effects!

“Binghe will be gone for long?” Shen Qingqiu waves the fan with more emphasis trying to cool his spirits. What the fuck is wrong with him? Is he starting to feel… horny for his shidi?

“I hope he’s dead!” Liu Qingge shrugs and stares at Shen Qingqiu who was behaving suspiciously. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Fine, fine, let’s talk about something else, eh?”

Liu Qingge is visibly beginning to feel uncomfortable at the way Shen Qingqiu is looking at him with languishing eyes and a pouty mouth. “Spit it out.”

To be honest, Shen Qingqiu wanted to ask him something deep, something serious. Like why he has fought Luo Binghe for five years just to retrieve his corpse or what he is feeling for him? Is it brotherly love? Or more? Luo Binghe has dropped some hints that Liu Qingge might harbour deeper feelings for him. However all Shen Qingqiu can think about now is getting his hands on that sinful body. To undress it from the complicated layers of clothes and to roll in the sheets with him. Really? Is this the only thought he has right now? Worse than a horny teenager!

“Yes, Liu-shidi let's talk about us,” Shen Qingqiu walks slowly towards Liu Qingge, who’s still sitting on the chair, and swings one leg over the other’s thighs, taking place on his lap.

“Us?” Liu Qingge throws him an annoyed look, but it’s evident that he is panicking inside. Shen Qingqiu isn’t supposed to sit on his lap! He tries to push him away, but Shen Qingqiu wraps both arms around Liu Qingge’s neck and shifts his body closer to Liu Qingge when he notices that something is off.

Shen Qingqiu can feel it twitch between his buttocks even if they both are still clothed. Shen Qingqiu grins, this serum seems to work perfectly! It is showing the bare truth!

Liu Qingge blushes hard and swallows, he’s there motionless and rigid like a corpse, attempting to ignore the fact that his shixiong is sitting on his erection and acting as if everything is normal. “Are you on something?”

“Yes and so are you,” Shen Qingqiu pulls at the collar of Liu Qingge’s silk robe and pulls him close to lick his lips. “I gave us both a truth potion, to know what’s going on between us. What do you feel for me?”

Liu Qingge gasps, he’s only had a tiny amount of serum, and as for now the effect was mostly from the aphrodisiac, he can control his words but the actions of his body… a bit less.

“You are my sworn brother,” Liu Qingge controls the stream of words that leaves his mouth. He wants to say more, so much more, but he holds himself back from doing so.

I want you! To be mine! The Bai Zhan Peak Lord forbids himself to speak those words. He can’t lose his face like this!

[...]

Liu Qingge looks at him with those beautiful eyes, clear as the sky. Shen Qingqiu thinks he truly is handsome and presses a tender kiss on the beauty mark.

“I want more,” Liu Qingge clears his throat and wipes his tears.

“What? Now?” Shen Qingqiu widens his eyes. “It’s a bit too much, don’t you think? Gimme some time to recover, it was my first time after all! We can do it again, maybe in a few days?”

Liu Qingge shakes his head, “I want more than just this…” He closes his eyes and his cheeks flush slightly. Shen Qingqiu understands what he means. “A-Yuan,” Liu Qingge opens his eyes again, they flicker in the dim candlelight.

“Yes,” Shen Qingqiu whispers and cups Liu Qingge cheek to kiss him again. Liu Qingge wraps his arms around Shen Qingqiu’s slender figure, holding on to him as if his life is depending on it. He drinks Shen Qingqiu’s kisses greedily, like a thirsty man in the desert. He is almost losing himself in this new reality made of Shen Qingqiu’s naked body and his tender kisses, as he hears something behind him and freezes.

“Shizun!”

Liu Qingge promptly covers their bare bodies with the first thing he could grab - Luo Binghe’s robe.

“Liu-Shishu, what are you doing with shizun?”

Shen Qingqiu can already feel Liu Qingge’s anger flickering up, he tries to stop whatever could go wrong now. “Adult things, Binghe. Liu-shidi and I were dual-cultivating.” Shen Qingqiu reaches for his fan and opens it, waving it lazily in front of his face. He must look ridiculous, with messy hair, a sweaty face and bite marks all over his body, at least preserve some dignity!

“Dual-cultivating?” Luo Binghe stammers, looking at them incredulously.

“Like cultivation partners do.” Shen Qingqiu explains and Liu Qingge turns his flustered face away.

“You ravished shizun… on my clothes?” Luo Binghe whines.

Liu Qingge turns around and yells at him, “Get out of here!”

“Hey hey, don’t fight. I’ll buy you new clothes tomorrow, now be a good boy and go to sleep in my room.”

Luo Binghe lowers his head and nods, while doing so Shen Qingqiu notices something strange sparking in his red eyes - and is that a smirk?

“G��night, shizun!” He ignores Liu Qingge and leaves the room. He lays on Shen Qingqiu’s bed and chuckles self-satisfied while holding a vial.

[cavity-core]

Satisfying Salad

Chapter Two

I post a lot of different stuff that is totally consumable for minors, but this space is not intended for minors, so if you fall in that category, please navigate it responsibly and respectfully... on that note.. keep scrolling to the next post kids. ^ ^

Despite the tag, this is not Kaebedo, I’m shipping Kaeya with the Fellflower because I’m an absolute psychopath... I call it crack but it’s my otp idk what’s wrong with me, cryo sugoi.

It is still updating but you can read the full fic here

The following chapter is spicy! I wouldn’t call it explicit yet but like... y’know, mature rating. It’s not supposed to be sfw.

CW: This chapter has some mild dub con elements due to alchohol consumption.

Between entertaining “guests” at the Goth Hotel and helping with administration work at the Knights of Favonius headquarters -Jean couldn’t be expected to do everything herself, though not for lack of trying on her part- on top of his regular knights work, Kaeya was actually much busier than his laid back attitude implied. It was quite the miracle that he could conjure up the free time to pester Albedo as often as he did, while trying to give the impression he simply had nothing better to do.

To say he specifically made time in his packed schedule was a little embarrassing, especially when all it ever resulted in was rejection. Yes, taking time out of his busy day just to be repeatedly turned down was embarrassing to say the least, so it was better having Albedo believe he merely had such an excess of free time on his hands that he just happened to frequently pass by. Although, perhaps he wasn’t as subtle as he thought when “Shouldn’t you be getting back to your own work?” Was the alchemist’s typical dismissal of his advances.

Safe to say Kaeya was shocked when Albedo, freshly returned from Dragonspine, made no such suggestion in response to his rather lazy solicitation of the man’s company. That admittedly should’ve been the moment he realised something was off, but his emotions clearly got the better of him in that moment. Albedo, or so he’d thought, had finally and quite suddenly agreed to a date… more or less anyway. Of course he was giddy with excitement, having finally cracked him, focused entirely on keeping a cool front and not becoming flustered by this unexpectedly favourable turn of events.

It wasn’t until he was in the Grand Master’s office, reviewing the papers Jean had handed him, that Kaeya began feeling that something was wrong. The Albedo he’d spoken to in the hallway seemed less and less like his colleague the more he mulled it over. By the time the sun was setting he was decided; whoever or whatever was currently in Albedo’s office was not Albedo. It was quite lucky that the very thing that tipped him off was also the most convenient excuse to suss him out. Angel’s Share was practically his home turf for extracting information from his targets with a bit of sweet talking and a lot of alcohol, and he was confident that by the end of the night he’d know exactly what this thing calling itself “Albedo” was and what had happened to the real one.

First thing’s first, he needed to make sure the fake was still in the building and hadn’t escaped or trashed Albedo’s office while Kaeya was handling paperwork. When he knocked at the door though he was surprised by how promptly it was answered and how… untouched the office seemed. What could be the gain of simply posing as the Chief Alchemist? What was he hoping to accomplish? Kaeya was determined to find that out before the sun came up.

“Albedo” seemed eager to leave the building as Kaeya escorted him away from the office, noticing how he visibly relaxed once he was outside. Kaeya paused just past the doors to see if the impostor would take the lead, did he know where Angel’s Share was? His “date” however stayed just as still as he did.

“We should get going.” Kaeya broke the silence, striding ahead with the answer he was looking for. Whatever he was walking with followed him obediently.

It seemed this walk would be painfully quiet if Kaeya didn’t continue to break the silence himself. “Don’t you love to walk through Mondstat at night, the air just feels different, doesn’t it?” He asked, glancing down at the shorter man keeping stride beside him.

“Albedo” glanced around as though… confirming Kaeya’s claim? “It does,” he finally agreed. “It is not as crisp as on the mountain though,” he added, glancing off to the south… the direction of Dragonspine that is.

What could change its form so convincingly? Was it alchemy or something else? It wasn’t completely unbelievable that Albedo might create from alchemy something in his own image and take it for a test run in Mondstat city, but Kaeya couldn’t shake the feeling that something more sinister was going on.

“Hmm, I suppose you’re right. The chilly isolation of Dragonspine surely can’t compare to Angel’s Share’s warm and boisterous atmosphere though, right?~” Kaeya pressed.

The shorter man glanced up, a frown on his face, but looked away again quickly as though he hadn’t expected Kaeya to be looking back at him. “I… I suppose not,” he answered with some hesitation.

Kaeya was getting the impression that whatever was impersonating Albedo had a clear connection to Dragonspine, his hesitation to speak of anywhere other than the mountains with any confidence was hardly subtle. That information didn’t necessarily rule out his other theories, but he felt it would be crucial to reaching a decisive conclusion in the end.

“Ah, of course you’ve always got your hands full with your research, on top of looking out for your apprentices too.” Kaeya shook his head. “I know you’re far too busy to go out like this very often, but that’s all the more reason I’ll have to make it special.~” He slid a hand across “Albedo’s” shoulders, causing the other to stiffen again like he had in the entrance way, something he had never known the real Albedo to do. It was a miracle to get any reaction out of that guy, at most he’d just get shrugged off if the alchemist hadn’t simply walked away first. The impostor his arm was around now though remained very still, other than his perfectly matched stride, under Kaeya’s weight.

“Special..?” He reiterated, his gaze still aimed rigidly ahead.

“Of course,” Kaeya crooned softly in response.

As the two of them descended the stairs and the tavern came into view, Kaeya shifted his arm down from the fake’s shoulders to his waist. He had so wanted to sit front and centre at the bar so he could flaunt his date in front of Diluc, maybe catch a spark of jealousy? But no, he didn’t need tHe DaRk NiGhT hErO getting involved in this, not yet anyway. Kaeya wanted to get a grasp on what was happening for himself first. So this small gesture would just have to do.

Unfortunately, as he propelled his alleged date through the door, all he was met with was Diluc’s blasé glare. “Two Death After Noons, Master Diluc.~” He chose to believe it was jealousy and not mere intrigue in his company when Diluc’s gaze followed them as they headed to the second floor before starting on Kaeya’s order. Charles would probably be the one to bring it up too… oh well, it worked better for him this way.

The second floor wasn’t as empty as he’d been hoping, apparently it was a busy night at Angel’s Share. Kaeya still managed to snag them a table off to the side though, sliding smoothly onto the bench. To his bemusement, “Albedo” did not approach on the other side but instead followed suit, sliding right in beside him. He decided not to comment on it for now though.

Now that they were seated in better lighting, Kaeya noted his company definitely seemed flustered as his gaze wandered the room, still refusing to hold Kaeya’s. Was it the overwhelming atmosphere or had his earlier questioning already gotten the impostor frazzled?

“What a shame, I thought the second floor would be quieter,” Kaeya sighed, resting his cheek on his palm.

Whatever was accompanying him had been seemingly studying the men drinking at a nearby table, but turned back to Kaeya now, taking in his position before assuming it himself. “Is it usually quieter? I thought you said you liked the boisterous atmosphere.”

The way the other was copying him… in theory it was possible that it had very little affiliation with Albedo; if its tactic was to mimic what it saw and it hailed from Dragonspine, who was to say it did not simply mimic Albedo’s appearance and mannerisms since he spent so much time up there? The part that insisted it was nothing so innocent, that forces far more insidious were at play, was the impostor’s seemingly intimate knowledge of other parts of Albedo’s life such as the location of his office.

“Naturally, isn’t that the fun of drinking at a tavern?” Kaeya pointed out. “I guess that means you’ll be getting a fully authentic experience tonight.~”

“Albedo’s” gaze snapped over to the stairs as Charles came up, very attentive to his surroundings as though on edge. Well, he was impersonating someone directly to a perceived friend’s face, why wouldn’t he be? Kaeya wondered if a copy sent by Albedo himself would really have such a reason to be this nervous… probably not.

“Your drinks, Captain,” Charles announced with a smile, setting down the two glasses. “Starting the night out strong I see.”

“Our Chief Alchemist is a very busy man you know,” he replied, reaching his free hand out to caress “Albedo’s” back just to feel him react again. “We can’t be out all night.~”

“Suit yourselves,” Charles chuckled. “Have a good evening gentlemen, I’ll be up again later. If you need anything in between you know where to find me.” With that he moved on to clean up some other tables before heading back down.

In this time the fake had done little more than stare down at his cup like he didn’t know what to do with it. Since it was mimicking him anyway, Kaeya took his hand back to take a sip of his drink. Sure enough, the mimic beside him did the same. Kaeya couldn’t help chuckling when the other’s face screwed up at the flavour.

There was no question that Kaeya could down one of these without feeling too much of its effects, in all his years he’d built up a highly impressive tolerance to alcohol. It was good for drinking as a business tactic but extremely expensive to drink for “leisure”. If this thing was set on imitating his actions, getting it to finish the drink would be a piece of cake.

“Tell me.. what fascinating experiments were you conducting in Dragonspine this time?” Kaeya inquired, freeing up his other hand to hold his drink so his closer hand could slip back to the other’s waist. This wasn’t the real Albedo, true, but visually speaking it was almost identical. Seeing what Albedo’s face looked like with those flustered, uncertain expressions made Kaeya want to self indulgently press it further knowing the real Albedo would likely never look at him that way.

The impostor struggled down another sip before answering. “It wasn’t anything interesting, I—“ his voice stuttered when Kaeya’s hand slipped around his slim waist to his stomach for a moment. “I… was doing some painting,” he finally finished, taking another sip of his drink all by himself to avoid elaborating further.

“Ohh, I see. Another commission perhaps?” Kaeya knew Albedo occasionally went to the mountains to work on art for illustration commissions, he’d gained quite the name for himself across Teyvat even becoming popular in nations as far as Inazuma. Did this copy know that though?

He took another sip of the drink despite the way he cringed each time at the taste it left in his mouth and the burn in his throat. “No.. not a commission exactly…” his gaze flicked back up to Kaeya’s expectant one briefly before falling back to his glass to take another sip. “The.. the Traveller wanted to draw.. with shimmering paint..” he explained, though his words sounded a bit slurred.

Only half way through his drink and he was already this far along? Maybe Kaeya needed to pick up the pace on his own interrogation before he couldn’t get his information anymore. “So where is the Traveller now, still on Dragonspine?” He pressed.

“Uhm.. the Traveller…” he dropped one hand from the table to Kaeya’s that was still on his side resting against his thigh, he didn’t seem to push Kaeya away though. “Wasn’t—“

“Hey, Mr. Albedo!”

The two of them were suddenly interrupted by someone approaching from the stairs. It was Timaeus, from the alchemy bench… Kaeya was pretty sure that wasn’t all he did, but he was there so often it was basically the only thing he associated him with. His arrival was inconvenient to say the least though.

“I didn’t know you ever came here after work,” he commented, inviting himself to take a seat across from the two.

“It isn’t exactly easy to drag him out of his office,” Kaeya answered for him. “I must have just gotten lucky.”

Timaeus looked to Kaeya as though he’d just noticed him there. “Oh, and Captain Kaeya. So you two both came to unwind after work, huh?”

“Something like that,” Kaeya confirmed with a wry grin, using the hand on “Albedo” to pull him closer in the hopes that Timaeus might catch on and excuse himself, but even when the clearly inebriated imposter slumped slightly against him from the motion Timaeus remained just as blissfully dense.

“I had another question for you, I forgot about it earlier but it was something the Traveller asked about,” he continued to who he believed to be Albedo.

From Kaeya’s observations so far, he was certain that whatever was beside him wasn’t human, likely not even humanoid in its usual appearance. The ways in which it mimicked as it navigated all of these basic human interactions gave him a heavy impression that it wasn’t accustomed to behaving in this way. More specifically, it didn’t seem to be used to coexisting with humans, which made him hesitant to provoke it somewhere so populated.

Despite the lack of response to his opener, Timaeus continued; “We were trying to figure out some kind of mechanism to not only juice fruit but keep it fresh for an extended period of time,” he explained. What a pointless sounding contraption.

“Surely this was Paimon’s idea,” Kaeya commented.

“Haha you know them well,” Timaeus chuckled.

The fake Albedo had been pretty quiet through all this, though Kaeya could feel him swaying a little with how close he still was from being pulled against him earlier. His hand still rested over Kaeya’s though it hadn’t stopped him from slipping off his waist to settle on his thigh.

“Albedo?” Kaeya prompted, lightly squeezing his thigh. “Don’t you have any suggestions?”

He glanced up to finally meet Kaeya’s expectant gaze. “Suggestions..?” His speech was a bit slow.

“You’re the expert,” Kaeya pointed out. “You were listening, weren’t you?” The motion of Kaeya’s hand sliding further down his thigh was accompanied by a soft, high pitched clink, like glass chipping or cracking… no, more like ice.

His gaze moved from the other’s flushed face to the glass still grasped in his other hand even though it was fully on the table. Kaeya raised his eyebrows as he observed the liquid inside, not that one could even call it that when it appeared to be completely frozen.

The change in Kaeya’s expression caught the fake’s attention too as he also looked over. His reaction was far less subtle though, drawing in a sharp breath and snatching his hand away from the glass as though it had burnt him. Cryo.. interesting. It would also explain the strange sense of resonance he’d been feeling in the other’s presence so far.

Timaeus also looked down when everyone’s attention was so obviously directed to the glass, but Kaeya already had enough to make his deduction in that area, there wasn’t any need to over complicate things by getting others involved. He’d play it off like it was his own doing.

“Well, what do you think?” Kaeya asked, lifting the glass for Timaeus to see, the impostor remained completely still and tense beside him. “Simply freezing the juice is the more efficient method in my opinion.”

“Maybe, but we don’t all have a Cryo vision like you, Captain Kaeya,” Timaeus pointed out light heartedly. “We thought Mr. Albedo might be able to come up with a more accessible solution through alchemy.”

“You… should only pick what you need,” He finally answered. “‘S no point in carryin’ around a buncha’ fruit if you can’t finish it…” His speech was quite slurred now.. but it also didn’t seem like Timaeus was going to leave them alone.

“Here,” Kaeya slid over his fuller drink. “Since I ruined yours,” he added with a wink.. which looked a lot like a regular blink.

A Cryo affinity of some kind made sense. Despite his flustered appearance, he didn’t feel that warm against Kaeya at all.

“I guess that makes sense,” Timaeus agreed. “But that’s just practically speaking. If you just entertained the concept for scientific purposes, do you think there could be a way to accomplish it?”

Maybe it was because this thing was wearing Albedo’s face that Kaeya was so interested in teasing it, that he found it’s flustered reactions so oddly… endearing. That word didn’t exactly describe it though, endearing wasn’t quite how he saw the way “Albedo’s” eyebrows furrowed and his lips parted when Kaeya moved his palm more firmly over his thigh.

“I thought Sucrose would know, since she has a lot more knowledge about organic matter in alchemy but she didn’t really have any ideas either.” Timaeus was somehow still rambling about this high tech juicer idea that allegedly wasn’t even his own.

“Perhaps “winding down after work” is not the most appropriate setting for..” Kaeya paused for a moment, surprised when the hand that had been merely resting over his own wandering palm pressed him towards the inner side of the thigh he’d been exploring. Hm.. so it liked this? “… Entertaining pointless topics for the sake of science.” He had to shift a bit closer to oblige his continued ministrations, coaxing the others legs open a little so he even stood a chance of reaching his inner thigh from this angle.

A shimmer on the impostor’s forehead that Kaeya had been passing off as sweat caught his eye again… it was very pale and could only be seen at certain angles, but he could see defined, hard edges making some kind of pattern… one that was oddly familiar but he couldn’t quite place what it reminded him of.

“Ah- you’re right, I’m sorry. I thought it might be something interesting,” Timaeus hurriedly apologised.

“I don’t think your Chief Alchemist here is quite sober enough to theorise with you this evening,” Kaeya stated, pointedly speaking over the soft whimper his hand elicited when wandering a little too far up.

“Right… Well, I’ll head down to the bar to make my order then, I just heard you were here,” Timaeus explained, finally pushing himself up from the bench and sliding out. “Sorry about that, Mr. Albedo,” he apologised before finally heading down stairs. Even Kaeya let out a sigh of relief once he was gone.

“Now, now, this is hardly any way for the Chief Alchemist of the Knight of Favonius to be conducting himself in public,” Kaeya purred against the top of “Albedo’s” head as it tipped against his side.

Among the ash blonde hairs against his lips… Kaeya felt something else, something foreign… .. he lifted his face away to get a better look, blinking down at the blue and pink protrusion peaking between the pale locks. A leaf? Or perhaps… More like.. a petal.

Was it really possible? To not only take on the form of but also behave as something so sentient? Kaeya wouldn’t have believed it if all the evidence wasn’t sitting right beside him, slumped and flushed against his chest. A leaf-like petal coming seemingly out of its head, a clear familiarity with Dragonspine, Cryo resonance in some form, ability to convincingly change its physical appearance, mimicking its surroundings, and the pattern on its forehead, the one Kaeya could now place; it was identical to the markings of the Cryo WhopperFlower.

“I believe it’s time to get you home,” Kaeya announced, flipping up the Whopper’s hood to cover its slip ups and dragging both of them up from the bench. It didn’t take much for Kaeya to scoop the disguised monster up bridal style and carry it back to the first floor.

“Put those on my tab, Master Diluc,” Kaeya chimed as he strode towards the door. He expected Diluc to once again remind him that Angel’s Share did not do tabs, despite still keeping track of his own, but instead…

“If you plan to dine with a pet again, I recommend you use the outdoor seating.”

Heh?? Did he already know?

“Noted,” Kaeya replied, pushing through the doors into the cool night air. Now.. what to do with this overgrown plant? Although he told himself he was mulling this over, he was already heading back towards his apartment.

[zet-sway]

@the-wip-project day 35:

I don't know what today's question is but I gotta write a wall of text about what happened last night because holy shit

I was on the verge of falling asleep and, like I usually do, I decided to hunt for some spicy fanfics to read on my phone. I found one.

All my posts are long but this one is real fucking long. CW for touching on dub-con and injury mentioned in the type of context it probably shouldn't be.

It's time for me to admit that not only am I a oneshot writer, I'm also a oneshot reader. I am drawn to short fanfics. If I click on a chaptered fic, it's (usually) because it's rated E for smut and I'll go in with every intention of skimming it for the spicy bits. I'm not proud of this. I've avoided saying this for years because I don't want to disappoint people who work hard on their very long and well thought out chaptered stories. I have a short attention span, and I know what I want.

But anyway, last night I clicked on a fic with 5 chapters and some amount of words, around 30k? Long, by my standards, but I was tired and I just wanted something to read while I dozed off.

This particular fic hooked me in, though. I still skimmed it, but the writing was so unique in a way that made me writhe with writer's envy and admiration. Whoever wrote this had their own language - nothing borrowed - their own vision.

I guess I should tell the good people who read my posts (ya'll, seriously, thank you) that the fic in topic is called Fault Lines by Recidiva on AO3. I would link to it but uhhhh I may be using my work PC for "extracurricular purposes" right this moment ^^; so maybe when I get home I'll remember to add it.

I skimmed it - like I said above - for the spicy parts. It generally follows the plot of Bioware's canon. Thane begins as possessive and manipulative, likely uncomfortably close to dub-con for a lot of people. He kisses her and knows full well that his kiss will make her willing but intoxicated, and how he will use that to fulfil himself. But as the story progresses, he falls in love. Their relationship is what I'll call "edgy." Both of them are renegades. There's a scene where they get down in the shuttle after a fight and they're both still injured and it borders on downright unrealistic but fuck it, it's fanfic and I bought it. However their relationship develops a certain heart-wrenching tenderness. She asks him what Siha means over and over again, and eventually tells him she thinks "bitch" when he says it. But in that moment they have a playful banter, he knows full well she's probably already looked it up on the extranet, and they fall into bed together. The smut is mind-boggling.

By the time it gets to Shepard's arrest, he's taken up a place on Earth and visits her, breaks into her house arrest. There's a scene where they see each other for the first time in a while, she tells him how much she's missed his mouth and how it's not right how bad she wants him, and wants him bad enough to smother him with affection. She says something to the effect of "if you're looking to die, I'd volunteer to be the cause," implying that her lust is powerful enough to endanger his life. And it was at this moment I realized I fucked up.

It's established that I live in my own headcanon and I'm not burdened with considering the end of Thane's life as part of my fics. And the suspension of disbelief was such that I forgot he doesn't make it. So at this moment in the fic, chapter 4 out of 5, I realized "Oh shit this isn't going to have a happy ending." I skipped to the end right away, I wanted to confirm my fears.

In their final exchange, she asks him to lie to her - something that's repeated in other chapters of the story. I forget what he says, I was reading desperately, but he asks her in return to tell him something true. She kisses him and tells him she loves him, and he breathes his last breath with the lingering tingle of their kiss to carry him to the other side.

I was so entrenched in the depth of their relationship up to that point. The level of fathomless love the author conveyed, unlike anything I've ever managed to write before, but more realistic to my own understanding of love as I've experienced it. Not because they're renegades, but just the selflessness with which they feel, communicate, banter, and make love.

When I read that last paragraph, something inside me broke. That sounds dramatic but that's honestly how I would describe it. It felt like waking up from a night terror, when you bolt up in bed from a dream so bad you immediately get up even if it's 4am because nothing feels real and you're so terrified you have to get up and do something - literally anything to take your mind off it, to ease you back into reality. I put my phone down and stared into the darkness of my bedroom and told myself "it's just a fanfic, no need to get upset." And then I started to cry and I didn't stop for 30 minutes.

My husband was downstairs watching Bohemian Rhapsody and I went down there and wrapped myself around him so tight and cried. Bless this man, from the bottom of my heart - bless him - for his unfathomable kindness. I felt like a fucking fool because I was crying over fanfiction but he paused his movie and just listened while I tried to articulate how it wasn't exactly about the character death, or the characters at all, it was just the writing and how it wormed into my brain so convincingly. I felt the loss like it was my own loss. I am terrified of losing my husband. So many feelings coalesced and I realized one day I may be in that situation, kissing the man I love goodbye for the last time, never to hold him again. I'm at work right now and I'm tearing up because it's so hard.

I tip my hat to the author, but I genuinely wished I hadn't read that fanfic. And isn't it kind of funny after that grandstand I took yesterday about not wanting to write the pain of loss and grief, that I ended up reading it instead and probably fucking myself up just as badly, if not worse, than if I had tried to write it myself?

It gets worse, too. Because it got me thinking about my own writing, and how I could never hope to achieve what that author did. So I sat there crying out my painfeelings while simultaneously feeling like a shit writer and like nothing I put out matters. I got up from the couch, sat down at my PC and picked up where I left off in the Omega DLC in ME3 because video games are great for taking the mind off things. It didn't exactly help with the intensity I'd hoped for, but I managed to fall asleep, by 3am.

Fast forward to this morning. I dragged my sorry ass out of bed 4 hours later and drove to work. By some fucking miracle, no one is here right now except our field director. And I'm stewing in how this one fic really fucked me up bad, reconsidering everything. I feel like I've been put in my place.

So what changed?

Yesterday I posted about how I'm struggling to write a plotline. I know what happens, but I'm not interested in the little bits that tie it together. I want to write the romance. I think there's a way to write the plot and the romance at the same time, but it's damn hard.

I started doing this because I wanted to grow my skills as a writer, and I knew it might be more than I could chew. I'm at that moment now where I'm about ready to give up.

Even if I felt like a shit writer last night (and still kinda do this morning), I know that the stuff I've put out has value. We can't all write these epically tragic smut-romance-renegades-to-lovers tales, we'd all be sad all the damn time. There's a time and a place and - I would argue - even a need for lighterhearted fic out there. There are really no rules. I'm confident in what I know how to do.

But the plot. Fuck it, man. I think maybe I'm trying too hard to be something I'm not. I'm trying really hard to write like other people. I may have mentioned before that I saw a post about how many artists spend their time pining for the skills of others, thinking "wow, when I can draw like that, I'll have made it as an artist." That same post cautioned against this, basically saying you already have your own unique style, it's just harder to see through the lens of your own eyeballs. It's fine to challenge yourself but try to acknowledge what you do that sets you apart already. I feel like I have that something - maybe not to the extent that I wish, but I have something.

So what's the point of the plot? Why do I need to tell my readers how I cured Keprals? I'm asking myself important questions here. I like to think I've come up with ideas that no one else has, but as I said above, I don't read a lot of chaptered fics. I very well may have come to the same ideas as other writers and I'm not even aware of it. I don't know if my ideas are unique but I still arrived at them all by myself.

The challenge here - the thing I'm struggling so much with - is how to put them together with the same elegance of my fellow writers. I'm looking at you, shrios fam (yeah I'm calling you that, yall know who you are). I know I can write words, but it's like I have a bunch of pieces from completely different jigsaw puzzles and I'm struggling to make a new picture out of them. I struggle with the transitions between them.

The point here is I have to find my own way. And I have to stop taking myself so seriously. In fact this level of "seriousness" is one of the things that got me into so much angst over World of Warcraft over the last two years. At least I know how to recognize it.

I have to find my own way. I have my own things that are worth sharing. The author I read last night had a language all their own, and I have a language all my own too. Their wordplay was actually more choppy than I would ever write. I've talked before about how I'm scared of starting too many sentences with pronouns, how I maybe write too many run-on sentences, whatever. This author did that with reckless abandon. It worked for them. So if they can make that shit work, I can make my own shit work.

I have to find my own way.

My most current WIP is Thane and Shepard's first time. I've been working on it pretty nonchalantly because I hadn't intended to publish it until I built up to it. It takes place further into my timeline, and it would probably ruin the point of a slow burn if I put it out there now. There are some really memorably moments in this WIP, and there are other moments that need to be smoothed over as well. I never knew what I'd really imagined for their first time but I think I've mostly developed something that's unique in its own right, and I think will be fun for people to read.

I'm just so fucking torn over what to do with it. I feel guilty for working on it. I should be writing "other shit" leading up to it but I don't fucking want to. I actually wrote probably 2-3k words this weekend, which is a pretty staggering amount by my standards. Some of it was for this smutty WIP and some was for something I just threw together, Thane observing Shepard on Horizon and the emotional toll it takes on her. He's seeing her humanity. I don't know if it's worth it to continue but I wrote a lot of it and the words are more precise than usual for a draft, I don't know. I have so much fucking insecurity. Fuck dude. I want to write this longfic, but I don't want to write it. I want to skim to the spicy bits like I always do.

I am wracked with insecurity, of my own making. I know what I can do but I feel compelled to see this idea through. Somehow I have to find my own way.

TLDR I feel like if I don't publish something soon I'm going to burst and I don't even know what the fuck to work on first and fjslfjsojoiejrj

I would be really down for, like, a bunch of hugs and a bowl of ice cream shared over memes and fanservice.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Casablanca

Just a very short captivity drabble for Danny/Nate! I haven’t done much Danny stuff lately and I’ve had this kicking around in my Google Docs for a while! I wrote out the third part of the Rescue but it needs some more work, so... captivity drabble it is!

CW: Discussion of forced stitches/violence, blood, referenced/implied noncon, captivity, restrained

Tagging: @bleeding-demon-teeth, @spiffythespook, @finder-of-rings, @whumpywhumper​ @special-spicy-chicken, @pumpkinthefangirl​

“H-hey.”

Too close, the whisper is too close. Still, Danny has learned to let even the softest noise shatter through his sleeping mind - it’s too dangerous not to wake up in time, you can’t make Abraham call you three times or that’s breaking a rule. 

He’s been drifting uneasily in and out of dreams, shifting around to try and take some pressure off his throbbing left shoulder. There are thick black threads sewn in an uneven line from above his collarbone down nearly to his bicep, surrounded by angry red skin. It's a reminder after the last defiance, the last rebellion.

Don’t worry puppy, Bram had murmured, petting into his hair and along his neck as the knife dug deeper and deeper and Danny tried so hard to be good, so Abraham would forgive him for breaking the gift he had brought back from his last supply run. 

It was the worst fucking thing Abraham had brought home to use on him so far. Danny had stared at it and thanked him for it, waited until Abraham was in the bathroom showering, and then taken it outside and smashed the fucking thing to bits with the axe.

 Abraham found him surrounded by chopped-up shreds of wires and plastic and metal and batteries, snarling at the wreckage he had made. 

Abraham hadn’t yelled. His expression had been calm. He moved without any particular speed as he came closer, the air colder with every step, and Danny had only laid the axe down next to the stump, turned, and dropped to his knees to wait for his punishment with his head held high and his eyes burning a bright and defiant blue.

It wasn't like Danny could run - where would he even go?

Abraham had told him that if he didn’t scream, he would only cut for a minute. Just sixty seconds and no longer.

So Danny kept his scream behind his teeth and let the tears blur his vision until he couldn’t see icy eyes so clearly any longer. Eventually the pain turned his world to gray and then to fog and finally to nothing at all. 

He had come back to consciousness to the sight of blood everywhere and the sound of Abraham's pure and purring delight as he got out thick black upholstery thread and a needle, Nate with shaking hands beside him as Abraham held a needle over a flame on the gas stove.

Don’t worry, sweet thing. Nate's going to make sure this scars nice and deep so you never, ever forget. Then Abraham had jammed a thumb into the wound he had made and said, softly, you can scream now, little Red.

The whole thing had been a lesson for Nate, too - he’d protested the punishment (“B-Bram, this is t-t-too much, you didn't w-warn him first, you h-h-had to know he wouldn’t w-w-want that”) and so he’d been forced to do the stitching afterward. He’d been right-handed before Abraham broke the bones so long ago, so he had to sew as best he could with his awkward left hand... after Abraham blindfolded him.

All Danny had been given for the pain was shot after shot after shot of the good whiskey Abraham kept in the cabinet and the cold of the fingers that gently petted through his hair, pressed into his jaw to force his mouth open for more. 

The whiskey wasn’t enough, but it left the world spinning around him, and eventually he’d passed out cold from that or the shock on the kitchen floor, his back stuck to the plastic of the tarp Abraham had laid him on to catch all the blood. Nate must have bargained something, because he’d been given the rest of the day on the mat to recover (and throw up, and be hungover) before he had to get up the next morning and do chores one-handed and with agony radiating out from his shoulder.

Whatever Nate had done… Abraham had given him a whole week where he barely touched him. Seven days, six nights. 

Danny chooses not to think about what Nate had to give away to earn that kind of break for him - it’s not worth it, because it’s probably the same things he gives away to earn a few days of peace for Nate.

There’s always a choice. There’s always a test, or a game. And Abraham always wins.

“Red? Wake up.”

Can’t let him call three times. Danny lets the dream - something soothing and largely formless except for the sense that he was climbing trees with his brother and he was a kid, just a kid, safe and easy - break like glass. 

He gives Ryan away again. 

He is always giving Ryan away, here, and praying that the next time won’t be the last, when Ryan is finally gone from his thoughts forever.

(you shouldn’t even dream about anyone but me)

“Please,” Danny whispers, not quite begging, without opening his eyes. “Please, please let me sleep a little more. I’m good, I’m good, let me sleep, please…” Danny curls up tighter, digging his fingernails into his own head to try and block the blow that he’s sure will follow the words. Puppies don’t get to decide, they wake up when their owners say. His scalp still aches from Abraham pulling on his hair last night when he moved too slowly, and that’s nothing compared to the bruises littering his hips and thighs. The plastic mat crinkles and shifts under him as he moves, trying to bury himself in the thin blankets, so that only a bit of wavy red even shows.

That makes his shoulder hurt again, and he hisses softly, wishing fewer parts of him ached all the time. He can’t remember the last time he moved without pain.

If I don’t open my eyes, it won’t keep happening, it won’t be real

A hand touches his shoulder, hesitantly, and he holds himself very, very still for it. He’s good, he doesn’t flinch or pull away. He’s so, so good. But then he thinks… Abraham never hesitates. His hand starts to relax away from his scalp, pulling back, and he cracks open eyes that feel nearly glued together to stare up between his fingers. 

“Hey, Red,” Nate says softly. The older man is still rumpled from sleep, too - he’s thrown on a sweater but it’s inside out and Danny can see the seams running down along the outside of his shoulders and arms. He’s wearing the thick warm flannel pants he’s allowed to wear, and Danny breathes out, jealous of how warm he must be.

His own fingertips, toes, the end of his nose - it all feels like ice.

“Wh… why’d you wake me up?” Danny asks, pulling his hand the rest of the way away, carefully rolling to push himself up using his right arm, holding his left close to his chest so his shoulder won’t move any more than it has to. “It’s…” His eyes go to the window, the pure and perfect darkness outside. It was cloudy all day, there isn’t even any starlight or moonlight to see by now. They might as well live in a tiny little pinpoint of light in a void. “Looks like the middle of the night.”

“I think it is, ah-... actually. You w-were making sounds in your sl, sleep. I didn’t want you to w-w-wake Bram up.” Nate glances back over his shoulder at the closed bedroom door. Danny’s eyes follow his and he shudders.

It’s freezing cold out here, like always, but he hadn’t tried to barter for the bed tonight. He… he couldn’t. Not tonight, not after earlier.

He’d rather be cold tonight.

“Thanks, thank you for that,” Danny says softly, with real feeling. He’s woken Abraham up before - and his reactions tended to range from irritated to furious depending on how much sleep he’d gotten beforehand. He sits up the rest of the way, getting his bare feet under him, feeling the chain attached to his ankle shift a little. 

It doesn’t quite make enough noise to matter. Danny’s an expert at maneuvering without the chain scraping by now. When Nate stands and offers him a hand, he takes it, pulling himself to his feet. Nate’s hand is warm, and dry - he’s never cold, not even in the middle of the night in winter.

“Your hair l-l-looks ridiculous,” Nate says, voice and flash of smile both soft as feathers in Danny’s mind. Nate reaches out, casual as anything, to ruffle Danny’s hair, smashed down on one side and sticking straight up on the other. He smooths it down, and Danny shivers a little at the way it feels so much different when Nate touches him.

He lets him do it for just a few seconds longer than absolutely necessary, and then Danny swats him away as best he can, rolling his eyes. They both pretend Danny’s face isn’t flushed a little red, burying some of the freckles and scars under the rush of blood. “Like yours looks any better, you jerk.”

Perfectly normal conversation between two perfectly normal men - as though one of them weren’t chained to the wall and the other hadn’t just spent the past several hours sleeping with and then next to the person who locked them up here in the first place. 

“No,” Nate says thinking, his eyes drifting back to the mop of wavy red - long, since it was towards the end of winter, and Abraham liked his hair longer when it was cold, so he could twist it around his fingers and pull on it. It fell past his ears, curling at the ends, and Nate reached back up to twist one wave into a curl. “Y-yours definitely looks beh… better.”

Danny became suddenly deeply and entirely aware of every inch of his own skin, and of the slight pull of his hair when Nate stretched the curl out straight. And very aware of Nate’s deep green eyes, the focus and consideration in them, the way they looked over Danny’s face without even batting an eye at how thoroughly the muzzle had ruined it.

If we weren’t here, if I wasn’t this… I think I would want you, anyway.

Danny never says the words, but he thinks them more and more, and he worries endlessly that Abraham knows he is thinking the words, knows but for some reason lets them rest in Danny, doesn’t beat or cut or burn them out of him.

Abraham knowing something like that and not hurting him over it more terrifying than any pain he could cause because of it… because it means either he’ll wait to use it against him in some new way he can’t predict, or… or it means feeling like this is something Abraham wants. That even Danny’s smallest, most private defiance is just part of Abraham’s plan.

“Did you want to watch a movie?” Danny asks, ignoring the pulsing ache in his shoulder, simply pushing it to the side of his brain where he puts all the pain when Abraham isn’t actively causing it. 

Nate smiles at him, pulling at the little scar on the corner of his mouth, and Danny fights the urge to lean down and kiss it, just there at the corner where it makes his smiles seem a little one-sided. “Y-Yeah. D’you w-w-want to have m, movie night? I want to l-look at your, um, your cut and put something it, so it d-d-doesn’t get infected. C-Casablanca?”

“You always want to watch Casablanca.”

“Of c-c-course I do.” Nate almost laughs, and just catches himself, looking nervously back at the closed bedroom door. “You s-say all the words.”

“So?”

“So...” Nate looks back at him, and for a second Danny doesn’t feel the chain on his ankle at all. “I like when you s-s-say all the w-words.”

[spookypotato]

AJ! this is great this is grea this is great! oooh i love it!

Make a Promise

“Sirius,” Remus says, rolling onto his side to face the man beside him, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Shoot.” Sirius’s eyes stay focused on the ceiling above, but he smiles warmly. 

“Do you—well, you probably don’t remember, but when we lived together, before, in the flat with the piss-yellow walls and the floors that squeaked and the stove that never worked, I had a shoebox. Under the bed. And I never let you look in it.”

Sirius is quiet for a moment, then, “I remember.”

There were three things is the box. And I didn’t want you to see any of them, all for different reasons.”

“Why do I have the feeling you’re about to tell me what they were?” He’s teasing, but his eyes go soft when Remus replies, “Because you know me better than anyone.”

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