#I may very well be wrong about everything I have written here

[misscammiedawn]

Papyrus (Is "The Garden" on that playlist?)

papyrus ⇢ if you put your ‘on repeat’ playlist on shuffle, what’s the first song that comes up? what do you like about it / associate it with?

CW: Discussion of severe mental illness and suicide.

I had my "mental illness indie playlist" on and for the record Pills & Good Advice by Left At London (her gosh darn magnum opus to living with a SPMI) is the song that came up.

This is legitimately one of my favorite songs of all time and helped me a ton during the worst portions of second puberty when our BPD symptoms were off the charts. Left at London does amazing music ranging from talking about the 2020 social unrest which includes the refrain "Fuck you and the slavers that you work for" or finding joy within having a dissociative disorder or the terror of discovering one. As well as one of the most uncomfortably accurate songs about Disorganized/Insecure Attachment in BPD (the Patreon only edit even including a voice mail that ripped my heart to shreds the first time I heard it.) and a break-up song that includes a lyric that takes me out every time I hear it:

And if falling in love is all that it takes To make you love the world You’ll be bitter when they go Because even infinity in its entirety Still can turn to nothingness When it's multiplied by zero

But let's talk about the song which actually showed up on my random, Pills & Good Advice.

The song is built upon Nat's experiences from being released from a mental care facility after a suicide attempt and the fear and insecurity of being released into the world with nothing but medication and doctors recommendations to keep her from trying to kill herself again.

On my first day out My familiar town Felt the same as in my dreams Crying in my sleep When the sun came down Thinking "I am cured, it seems" But I don't know my name at all But what else is new? Should I show my pain at all? If you only knew You could try to help Care is imprecise All that I have left: Pills and good advice

Each verse of the song fluctuates between moods and depictions of chronic mental illness from the bridge having rapid voices displaying her impulses to experience a high to escape the pain of existing versus the desperate desire to stay the course and get better and mirrored refrains of "Please hold me down" symbolizing both a self-destructive impulse to die and a terror; begging their partner to kill or save her.

The song includes depictions of Identity Disturbance, a BPD symptom where those suffering lack a stable sense of identity and require an external source to mirror and receive acknowledgement from; Nat sings on multiple occasions about not knowing who she is and viewing her support in this crisis as her "mirror". I imagine imposter syndrome for Nat's music/poetry may be invading some lines such as "I'm plagarizing everything, stuttering solioquies (who am I again?)"

The song is set in 3 parts with the third part being a descent where the line (Higher) is repeated after every line and Nat struggles with her suicidal impulses, concluding:

Spend too many of my minutes getting higher (Higher) I've attempted way too much to even count (Higher) I've been committed, but committed to the people that I love And if I try to love myself, I guess that I could live forever crying

Knowing the sickness is a part of her but she doesn't want to die, even if she wants to die; she cares too much about the people in her life (the committed/committed line is actually genius and one of my favorite in all of her discography) and the best thing she can do is commit to loving herself and continuing along with life in spite of the pain inflicted by her illness.

The ending is ambiguous to my ears and /@/ isn't popular enough for me to see a lot of discussion on interpretations.

But on my last day out Let me scream to God, Family, friends, and enemies "So what happens next? Is this what you want? All I am is dead to me" So I can't hear my voice at all What was I to do? Did I have a choice at all? Seems I never do You could try to help Care is imprecise All that I'd have left: Pills and good advice I could try to heal Care is imprecise All that you'd have left: Pills and good advice

On one hand, I view the song as a positive rally into accepting that SPMI are as the letters describe "Severe Persistent Mental Illness", fuck knows I've lived with the weight of those letters on my medical records. It doesn't go away. You just have to learn to live with it. To enjoy the joys before the despairs.

I chose to believe those last lines are saying that other people could try to help but in the end all the sufferer has is medication and therapy techniques, change must come from within and that to live with someone who suffers will cause pain too and all the person helping can do is receive the same level in care in return.

"You could try to help" vs "I could try to heal" with all that I/you having left being Pills and Good Advice.

But in my darker days I focus on the "on my last day out" and how the singer bemoans never really having a choice and all their work in staying clean being for nothing. In that read, I worry that the final lines are the singer giving in to their symptoms and attempting to kill themselves again, with the final line being less of a "we can get better together" and more of a "I know this will hurt you, have you considered seeking psychological help?"

I prefer my positive spin on it but that may be optimism winning out.

Either way, the song is fantastic and deeply personal in a way I almost feel like I'm intruding to hear at times.

Suicide is a topic of massive importance to me; it is also my number one emotional trigger. For the past few months I've had a draft I've been toying on about how I feel it should be discussed and ironically I am terrified to post it because of how sensitive the topic is. It's really hard to put yourself out there.

I admire this work of art because it really tries its absolute hardest to share a perspective of what it's like to be living with these conditions and feeling like no matter how much you reach out to other people, they can't truly help in the ways that you need. It's a song about terror, it's a song about healing and my god I hope it's a song about growth.

But it may just be a song about cycles.

[thethingswedotomorrow]

Crowley has been with humanity since the beginning. The original serpent of eden, he is the first "monster" in humanity's bedtime stories. He is the figurative and literal demon on human's shoulders, always there to guide them one way or another. He's weaved through history itself, and prides himself on an impeccable track record of demonic activity throughout the last 6000 years.

But, naturally, after 6000 years, Crowley finds that he's spent more time pining after a certain Angel than doing any sort of work. Like, an extreme amount of pining.

And it isn't until after the notpocalypse that Crowley realizes that, entirely accidentally and very embarrassingly, he may have accidentally made his pining very, very public.

One of Crowley's favorite ways to waste a day is to take Aziraphale to different museums around the world and watch as the angel wanders around and points out all of the inaccuracies

"Good Lord Crowley, have you seen this painting? Portraying you as a dragon is a tad dramatic, I think. All we were doing were having a picnic. And I have never had my hair looking like that, thank you."

"I don't know Angel, they've got your wings spot on. Wa-Hang on, have they added horns to my head?"

"Oh, I see, suddenly it's only inaccurate when they've got you wrong."

The museums always seem to be miraculously empty, and whenever Crowley mentions this, Aziraphale suddenly finds a new, very interesting piece of art to admire

Crowley admires the lengths Aziraphale goes to to hide the small miracles he's done for Crowley's sake

As if Crowley wouldn't move literal mountains for the angel

*He did, actually, do that once.

In the 12th century, they were having a lovely evening together with multiple caskets of wine, up until Aziraphale complained about the amount of light in his eyes

"Honestly Crowley, all this sun and no shade, it must truly be awful for the humans around here with no shelter. It's a tad much, even for me."

Crowley, even then, immediately recognized this off-hand comment as an underhanded complaint, and knew that would not stand

When the small earthquake passed, Crowley claimed that the nearby church was on a fault line and he was simply doing his demonic duty by damaging holy goods in the area

If Aziraphale realized that the mountain range in the distance suddenly provided much more sun coverage, he never mentioned it.

Currently, however, Crowley follows Aziraphale around, wandering behind him and never truly looking at the things in the museum

In every single place they've ever gone together, there was only ever one thing that deserved Crowley's attention

And it certainly was not an inaccurate model of a 18th century tea set

But when Aziraphale wanders into a hall titled 'Love of the Past', he starts to panic. Just a very tiny amount, basically none at all. A small enough amount of panic that he could deny it, even to himself.

He thinks about the past, towards the beginning, back when Humanity was still getting it's footing and figuring out how to have governments and societies and (the most important part) figuring out the whole alcohol situation

Throughout the years, especially towards the beginning, Crowley began to resent any time not spent with Aziraphale

Everything seemed small and dull when compared to the way the Angel smiled when he saw new type of human dessert, or the way he laughed when Crowley managed to work out a clever comment

And once Crowley experienced those things, he never wanted anything else

He had seen the poetry the humans had written, how much emotion they could pour into a simple piece of parchment or a clay tablet

He never cared for written word, but he was shocked at just how much feeling the humans could manage to pour into words

So after Aziraphale left Rome (after the oysters and the wine and the smiles, for somebody's sake the smiles), he went due east for a new miracle on another continent

Crowley stayed and got well and truly drunk. As he did best.

He had spent a few weeks around the other drunks around the area, most poverty stricken and saddened with some sort of grief of one type or another

It wasn't until a group of poets wandered into his dark corner of the pub that he started to considered writing

Obviously nothing anyone would ever read, he'd ensure that. Every scroll or parchment that he'd touch with a quill would be burnt with hellfire before it left his sight

But, as many of his worst ideas started, he had nothing better to do and too much time to think

So he wrote. He wrote letters, first addressed to nobody, about random thoughts that would pop into his very intoxicated brain. Whether humans would ever find traces of the unicorns they lost on the ark, whether he would ever find a way to count just how many scales he had, whether he would ever reach a point where he didn't have to cover his eyes every day

Slowly, the letters started becoming addressed to 'A'. Whether he was conscious of this or not, he'd never admit.

But he wrote. He wrote to A about Hell, the jobs they required of him, the things they'd have him do. He wrote of the way humans had beaten him to the punch 90% of the time. How they would do things worse than Satan himself could imagine, and they'd never blink an eye while doing it.

He wrote of the way the sun darkened each day that passed without his Angel, the way his wine never seemed to have enough flavor when he was alone.

He wrote of the ways he imagined he could orchestrate an elaborate reunion, a convoluted mess of too much demonic activity in a small area that just happened to have a wonderful new tea, or so he's heard, and wouldn't it be a shame to leave the town without tempting the angel to try it?

He wrote to A about how he was sure he had no heart, no emotions. He was a Demon, for somebody's sake, he certainly had no need for stupid things like that, and so the ache in his corporation's chest when he sees the Angel had to be some sort of malfunction.

Anatural function, surely, that could be fixed with the right amount of aloofness and strong liquor

He wrote of the way the sun always seemed to hit the Angel's hair just right, and Crowley had no faith, he had no God.

But in those moments, with a halo around the angel and that smile aimed towards him, he might consider praying now to a different source altogether, a closer source. One full of life and light and actual proper goodness, not that fake advertised bullshit they plaster on church walls in pretty paintings and sad songs

Crowley wrote for a long while, and found that the writing helped the pain.

Even if only because it brought on memories of Aziraphale, and that was enough to hold him until they met again. It had to be, he had no choice in the matter.

And he wrote so often throughout the ages, and often while he was drunk. And he was so sure, so positive that he had burned every trace of his heart and emotion out of existence.

He had to be. The danger those words could put Aziraphale in was far too great. He couldn't be bothered to care of the danger to himself, but the fact that the very hint of any emotion could come close to hurting his Angel was enough to ensure that they would never come across another being's eyes.

He destroyed every letter and word that described his desire, his pain, his greed. He ripped the words he created out of reality as easily as he had written them. Every time, he burnt the parchment, and every time, it burnt a part of him with it.

And then the Apocalypse had happened. Or, well, didn't happen, he supposed. Really, he wasn't entirely sure if there was a difference.

Because everything had changed, even if the rest of the world hadn't noticed. And he was suddenly allowed to see Aziraphale with no excuse, no half-hearted reasoning behind it. He was allowed to want, and to crave, and he relished it.

And he was allowed to take the angel to museums to watch him fuss over small mistakes humanity had collected throughout the ages

Until he realized that they had, in fact, also collected HIS mistakes.

In a hall. A whole bloody hall. A hall, dedicated to and full of stupid parchment and sappy letters and wine stains over words written so long ago

And honestly who gave them the right? Leave it to the humans to collect other people's belongings and put it on display as their own

And he knew, from the moment Aziraphale read the first page on display, he just knew. This was it. All of it was ruined.

All because Crowley had gotten so drunk and passed out in his room above the pub, and when they'd thrown him out in a drunken stupor, they'd collected his belongings to sell afterwards. And he'd never even realized, so concerned about the next meeting, the arrangement, concerned about anything and everything except the one thing he forgot about and could end them both.

Any moment now, Aziraphale would look up at him, with disgust and confusion and all those emotions that he'd really rather not see on his face, preferably ever, but especially not towards him.

But Aziraphale never looks up. He reads the first page 5, 6, 7 times, being sure to capture every single word. Every wrinkle in the paper, every crease.

Then he moves to the next, and then the next. He repeats this process. Every page, he scours each and every page. Searching and scanning, analyzing every word.

Crowley is frozen at the entrance of the hall, too terrifed to say a word, but too hopeful to leave. He stands there, suddenly feeling the same feeling in his chest that he felt so many years ago, in the corner of the pub, sitting in the dark, wishing for the light that he knew would never come.

He's so panicked, that he doesn't notice Aziraphale finishing the last page, and wiping the tears from his eyes. He startles when he accidentally meets his eyes, and prepares a number of excuses and deflections, all to preserve this shred of peace and safety they had carved out for themselves.

"Angel, I- you really- ngk- humans are so rid- are you hungry? I could eat, I've heard they've got a killer bar around here, and we cou-I can get us there in 10 minutes, ngk actu- scratch that, we could be there in 5, I bet. Museums aren-angel?"

Crowley finds himself stopping the random stream of words coming out of his mouth, when he notices tears in Aziraphale's eyes

"Angel, I-"

That's all Crowley can get out before Aziraphale is walking towards him with a purpose

And suddenly Aziraphale is very close to him

Very very close

And suddenly Aziraphale's lips are on his, and Aziraphale is holding onto Crowley's jacket, and Crowley's hands are just waving in the air back and forth while he processes the last .5 seconds.

By the time he realizes what is actually happening, Aziraphale pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against Crowley's, and laughs.

He laughs. Laughs. Aziraphale is laughing and it's a wonderful, beautiful noise and Crowley doesn't quite understand why, but then he's laughing too and then they are both standing there, arms around each other, laughing and Crowley realizes now that all the words he's written, all the praises he sang of his Aziraphale, the way he wished and prayed for his heart and laugh and love

Not one bit of it is at all comparable to the real thing.

[sunshine-on-marz]

The brightest

Aaron Hotchner x Sunshine!Reader

In which Hotch’s grumpy reputation may be on the line

Dedicated to my pookie bestie boo @st4rgzer

The Aaron Hotchner had smiled 6 times in 2 days. Spencer counted. It also just so happened that you joined the BAU 2 days ago. You’d transferred from a different unit, where you only worked for a few weeks before they suggested you move to the behavioral analyst unit, namely because you kept profiling, very accurately, and completely on accident. Well it wasn’t exactly an accident, but you had no clue you could make reading people a job, it was always just something you did. It was honestly insanely impressive. What might be more impressive is just how much you lit up the bureau from the moment you walked in. Your smile far brighter than the painfully fluorescent lights, and from the moment Hotch greeted you he knew he was in trouble

Something about your everything has him absolutely enthralled. The way you absentmindedly fidgeted with your shirt, your smile, your laugh, the small comments and jokes you make during conversations, all the small favors you do for the team, all of it had him head over heels.

The rest of the team was starting to get weirded out. In this very moment Emily was trying her best to explain to you that no, Hotch isn’t ‘nice’. He’s caring and fatherly but he’s not ‘nice’. “Honestly it’s really really insane that you’re calling him nice and it’s even more insane that you’re not wrong, I’ve literally never seen him be this nice for this long” she explains, Derek walking up behind her “we talkin about Hotch’s crush on the new kid?” He asks, leaning on the back of Emily’s chair before looking up at you “hey sugar” he says, you wave at him through your laughter. “Guys I highly doubt he has a crush on me” you explain “maybe he just likes me.. as a person” you explain. “Y/n he practically has heart eyes when he talks to you” JJ butts in, Spencer lifting his hand with a thumbs up. Just then Rossi walks in “are any of you working?” He asks, Emily answers “we’re working on convincing y/n that Hotch is in love with them”, Rossi just laughs. Which says a lot more then his words ever could. “See?!” Derek shouts, gesturing to Rossi who’s still laughing to himself.

“See what?” Hotch’s voice rang through the bullpen from where he stood at the balcony infront of his office. “Nothing!” Everyone said in unison, other than you, you just sat with a confused, but amused look on your face. “Y/N, my office” Hotch said, Emily and Derek having to cover their mouths to keep from laughing. You, albeit nervously, walk upstairs and to Hotch’s office. “Sir” you say softly as you walk into his office, he follows behind you. “You’re not in trouble” he says, chuckling softly as he watches your shoulders relax. “That’s good- no actually that’s the best thing I’ve heard all day” you say, exasperated and relieved. “I wanted to make sure you were settling in well” he says, you smile “oh yea it’s been great!” you smile “everyone’s been absolutely lovely! You weren’t lying when you said it’s a family here”, he smiles softly “it’s good to know you’re feeling included” he says, he slides you over a peice of paper. “The higher ups want us to start getting written statements from the new hires, to make sure everything’s running smoothly, would you mind filling this out for me?” He asks, you nod, he starts again “well excuse me for a second” he says as he walks out of his office, closing the door behind him and starring at his team who were all standing as close to the wall as possible without being in the window. “Will you all mind your own business?” He says, a sea of small agreement and apologizing spilling from the team as they walk off, only Rossi staying behind. “Yes?” Hotch says, raising an eyebrow as he waits for Rossi’s inevitable, and probably sarcastic, remark. “Let them get through the first week before you ask them out” Rossi says, laughing to himself as he walks away, Hotch just smiles, once again reminded of the downside of working with profilers.

I genuinely didn’t know how to end this sorrrrrrryyyyyyyyyy!!!!

I love you guys so so so much!

Remember to reblog and tell me what you thought of the fic!! Reblogs and feedback make the world keep spinning!!

[meo-eiru]

*cracks knuckles* here I am again. this time with Micah as my victim

so at first,

you definitely should add some more story to him. so far, if I'm being honest, he feels a bit too plain to me. but oh boy, what a potential I see here!

alright lets begin

omg look at him! such a hypocrite! how smart it is, to put all blame on MC while being just as (actually even more) sinful. and he sure hides well; it's your fault, isn't it? oh you and your sinful mind.

buut despite him not really being my cup of tea, I still do like a good old concept of ugly insides, hidden behind a beautiful shell (if that's the vibe you were going for).

Micah seems so pure, so holy, almost like an angel (you played smart by adding a lot of white in his design) – but behind that pristine facade? he's ugly. and that shell eventually starts to crack, because no matter how pure he may seem, Micah is just as human as we are, and definitely not a good one. and what are we, if not a bunch of cruel, egotistical animals? and deep inside he's exactly that, sickeningly human. with that in mind the very first comic you did abt him is actually pretty hilarious to me. your desires? what about his desires, which are strong enough to ruin your whole life?

I kinda feel like he's also a little pathetic in his own way; if he can't make you fall for him, he will break you. isn't it like a very cowardly move? he wants you badly enough to use whatever method it may require to have you, but will never admit it.

but let's talk about that strange desire to destroy MC's purity. why? to make you just as dirty as he is? cute, but doesn't seem like a full explanation to me. he's a priest, right? and even despite those dark insides of his, I feel like Micah still kept at least some of the priest mindset. I mean, they're raised and taught with a very strict discipline. so I feel like deep down, he feels bad (not ashamed, but in a "how dare they" way) for his attraction to you, and punishes you for that attraction. it's not your fault, of course, but who cares? you managed to destroy his perfect, clean facade, which he was methodically building for his whole life with simply your existence. isn't that unfair? so now you must fall into the depths of hell with him.

I like how we can't justify him. Micah is perfectly aware of what he is doing. and of twisted nature of his feelings too, I think, yet still chooses to indulge in his desires, even if it hurts you, the person he was supposed to love and cherish. he makes me feel an absolute, poetic rage, and I love a character I can hate. (don't get me wrong, it meant to be a praise)

and I absolutely adore his design. also if I was on point with the idea you meant for him, that is wonderful too. if a character makes me feel something, I like that character. but girl, you really should add more details about him. because everything I've written here is, basically, just my own brainstorming and bare theories. Micah needs to have more meat on him for a full character analysis >_>

but anyway, I actually have a question.

what if MC wasn't in any way pure? what if they're a complete opposite of that word? count it on my love for hunchback of notre dame

unlike the nun MC, I suggest a MC who fully embraces their sins. like an evil succubus, they enjoy the joys of being tainted. they know what influence they have on their dear Father Micah, and isn't ashamed of that. I feel like that would make a pretty interesting story

(cough cough draw him blushing and moaning and my life is yours darling)

Another absolutely incredible ask I'll have a field day answering.

I do agree with him being a bit under developed at the moment. Micah was a bit unfortunate as in he was never meant to be an actual character. He was just a momentary creation who existed for me to study color theory. A beautiful man of flowers who didn't have an identity.

Then he joined the cast when I was busy with working on commissions and the 5k celebration comic so I didn't have the time to draw his introduction comic with the things I had planned for him, though I've been trying my best to explore him a bit more thru asks like this one. The fact that I don't want to spoil the stuff I'll draw in his comic is also holding me back a little.

I think Micah is evil, but not completely bad. A man who was born twisted, who was raised into goodness, and even with all the love he received never truly got rid of his inner darkness, but just once, just for one moment, I think he had good in his heart. And that is when he first saw you.

With all his twistedness, all his evilness, all his darkness, I think that love he felt for you was truly pure. Because in his eyes you appeared truly beautiful, like a pure lily.

But Micah isn't a pure man, neither does he want to be. So he prefers to pull you down to his level, so that you two can be sinful together. A truly impure way of feeling that pure and innocent love.

I have gotten asks about him with a more rowdy darling, one who isn't a nun or one who is more sinful. I've been really brainstorming about it but I don't think it would work. Not because I personally can't force the story into being like that but because I think it was just not meant to be like that.

You see I do come up with the characters, but I don't control their actions. If the character is unwilling I can't shape the story to my will. Because that story is their life and they control it. The best I can do is to try to fill the gaps I can.

I might prefer submissive yanderes, I might want Micah to have a more sinful darling instead but it wouldn't be Micah's story anymore. That's one of the reasons why he's so different from the rest of the boys. I'm not super into very dominant guys, I could probably count the ones I have with one hand, it wasn't my intention for Micah to be the way he is, but I don't think he could've been any other way.

Micah was just meant to be manipulative, a gaslighter, a dirty man who'll pull anything to push you below him.

I guess me looking at my stories from an actual novel or manga perspective also contributes to this. Father Micah exists to shine with a darling who he can soil.

Now the darling can maybe go against him in the future, she might rebel or give in to his sinful ways, but that's a different story.

[caraetdeul]

Right Beside You

Choi Seungcheol x gn!reader

Distance is nothing when you've got a love like this.

TW: None. Fluff, Long distance relationship, use of nicknames, some light cursing, slight mention of sex but nothing exclusive

A/n: this was shorter than the usual ones I write but nonetheless, it was still fun to do. Here's a fluff fic for Coups as a remedy for the angsty ones. Enjoy reading caratdeuls!

~Main Masterlist~

You’ve been having a hard time sleeping lately. If you haven’t felt the exhaustion in your body already, then the prominent bags under your eyes will definitely tell you that you are. But it’s not much of a surprise for you at this point because you know that the reason behind this isn’t something that should be astronomically studied. Instead, it all stems from the fact that you can’t sleep alone ever since your relationship with Seungcheol started.

Maybe there’s some sort of scientific reason as to why your boyfriend’s weight on your body as you cuddle up with each other is the only thing that can calm you enough to fall asleep. But maybe it can all just be a coincidence and you’re just having a mental breakdown at the thought of sleeping by yourself. Either way, nothing helps. And just like every night since Seungcheol left for his world tour, you’re left on your shared bed by yourself, staring at the ceiling while contemplating if the time difference between you won’t be much of a bother for him.

You know how tiring his work as an idol can be. Even when you’re far from him, there’s no doubt how much his job takes a toll on him just based on the updates you get from his messages and his group’s social media accounts. But even then, you still witness how hard he worked for each project they had. The passion and love that they give, not just for their work but also for their fans, are unmatched. As for you, you’ve never been so proud of someone until Seungcheol walked into your life and you always make sure he knows it. But he’ll be damned if he didn’t share the sentiment with you every time. So whenever you both come home from working all day, all your energy may be drained with the day’s demands but it will never hinder you from spending quality time within the comfort of each other’s arms. Safe to say, that was how your days always end.

Unbeknownst to you, Seungcheol’s not faring any better than you. Jet lag may be a bigger factor in his exhaustion but he couldn’t deny that being without you by his side is also affecting him. Now that he thinks about it, that’s probably why the other members have been very mindful of everything that they do around him ever since they left the country. So when your phone rang just as you were about to Facetime him yourself, you knew right then and there that you weren’t alone in your misery. The relief of finally seeing your face once again washed over him the moment that you answered, the tension leaving his body in the meantime.

“Hi honey,” Seungcheol smiled sheepishly, his eyes crinkling with poorly hidden mirth, “Sorry, did I wake you?”

You hummed, “No, I was already awake. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just missing you.”

Your heart melted at his innocent confession. You can feel your cheeks warm up as you reply bashfully, “I miss you too.”

Seungcheol’s smile widened but immediately turned upside down once he got a good look at you. Concern was written all over his face as he looked at you through the screen.

“What? Is something wrong?”

“Have you been sleeping?”

“Yes.”

Seungcheol sighed and you knew he caught your lie.

“Why haven’t you been sleeping?”

You inhaled deeply, “Well, it’s not much of a why but more of a how…”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know how I’ve been sleeping with you ever since we got together?”

Seungcheol snorted, his cheeks turning pink, “Oh, honey.”

 Your eyes widened once you realized the double meaning behind what you just said. The screen shook as you immediately sat up, your hands waving around as you tried to explain yourself, “That’s not what I meant! I promise! I was talking about how we’re sleeping together— beside each other! Beside. Each. Other. On the bed. Innocently. Not sex. Definitely not sex. But not like I’m saying that I don’t want to do that either ‘cause I do but that’s not what I meant. I just—”

Seungcheol’s laughter finally registered in your mind, effectively stopping you from digging yourself into a deeper hole. You pouted annoyed, “I hate you.”

“I’m sorry.” Seungcheol cooed, still laughing in between words, “I couldn’t help it. You were just being all cute and shit as you tried to defend yourself.”

You rolled your eyes, biting your lip as a smile fought its way onto your face. You then giggled when Seungcheol hadn’t stopped laughing, his joy outright contagious. As his laughter died down, so does yours. The air in your room was lighter than before and you only have your boyfriend to thank for.

“Now be honest, what’s the real reason why you’re not sleeping?”

You sighed, your voice softer with slight embarrassment, “I couldn’t sleep without your big arm around me and your body snuggled onto my side.”

His eyes softened, smiling remorsefully at the thought, “I’m sorry, honey. I wish I was there to be with you.”

You shook your head, “You don’t have to apologize. I know your work is very important and I know how much you enjoy it. I don’t want to be in between you and your work. I can deal with this in the meantime. This will pass, don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

The side of his lips twitched in thought, still unbothered by your situation despite your reassurances. His mouth opened, about to say something more but he was cut off by someone in the background shouting his name. You watched him from the other side of the screen as he talked to the person just out of the camera’s view.

Seungcheol turned back to you with a grimace, “Honey, I’m sorry but I got to go. I’ll call you back as soon as I can. Please, try and get some sleep. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You sent a flying kiss and laughed when Seungcheol caught it in the most dramatic way possible before ending the call. It wasn’t even a minute later when the silence of the bedroom dampened your mood. You sighed, lying down on your bed once again. You check the time on the bedside table, realizing that you only have 4 hours before you need to get up and go to work. Shuffling under the covers in an attempt to get comfortable as much as you can, you closed your eyes dreading another sleepless night.

~~~~~

It’s been a week since you had that call and since then, your sleep wasn’t getting any better.

You trudged your way into your apartment, exhausted from a stressful day at work. You probably had 3 cups of coffee already by lunchtime and an energy drink that was given to you by your coworker who had already witnessed you nodding off multiple times on your desk. Despite all of it, your sleepless nights were definitely catching up to you.

You made your way to your couch, leaving your shoes messily by the door. It’ll just be future me problem, you thought as you stumble through your living room. Plopping down on your couch, you were met by a big rectangular box on your coffee table with a note on top. Your senses immediately woke up, slowly panicking at the thought that someone was inside your apartment without you knowing. You cautiously took the note, eyeing the exterior of the box as if it were some kind of bomb waiting to explode on you. But once you opened the note, your heart slowly went back to its normal pace as you read through the letter.

To my loving and gorgeous partner in crime and in life,

I know you’ve been having a hard time sleeping ever since I left and I know it’s because I’m not there with you to hold you while you sleep. So to make up for my absence, I bought this for you. Hopefully, it can suffice for the time being. I even sprayed it with my perfume so it would feel closer to the real deal. Stay safe, I love you and I’ll see you soon.

Lots of love,

Seungcheol

P.S. Joshua got bored in the hotel so he begged me to embroider a small part of it. Couldn’t really deny his request when he told me his idea.

P.P.S. Please, don’t panic once you see the package in your apartment. I asked your mom to bring it to you and I told her where the spare key is.

You immediately opened the package and almost sobbed once you saw what was inside. You slowly pulled out the folded weighted blanket from the box which was also in your favorite color. Even from a distance, you could already smell Seungcheol’s perfume all over it which only made you want to cry more. As you unfolded the blanket on your lap, you finally found the embroidered part of the blanket which was on the top left corner. You laughed under your breath in amusement and awe once you realized that Joshua embroidered a chibi version of your favorite animal holding a big cherry and underneath it were both of your initials in red thread.

It was perfect.

That night, Seungcheol received a selfie of you snuggled up under the blanket with the embroidered part, which he was guessing was right over your heart. You then received a selfie of his own, which shows his dimpled smile with a half-heart sign on his cheek. Needless to say, you finally got a good night’s sleep.

Taglist: @moonwonuu @belladaises @porridgesblog @sasaapportela @allys-reads @clownprincehoeshi @yoonzzziino @gyuguys

[adventures-in-mangaland]

Another Dead Boy Detectives Fic Rec List

Netflix sucks and I'm sad, but the Dead Boy Detectives fandom continues to be awesome, so here are some more very quick fic recs!*

Tonight's the Night You Fight Your Best Mate's Dad by Opossum_Subatomic

Everyone's Alive College/University 5+1 things fic featuring Charles bringing Edwin coffee and slowburn payneland. Also Family/Wedding Drama involving Everyone Thinks They're Dating so acute is verges on Fake Dating. This author is seriously fantastic, everything they write is gold.

You should also check out Kissing Lessons, which is a high school AU that does what it says on the tin while also giving non-binary Monty and polyamory.

Ornithology by Rosie447

Monty gets a job working at Tragic Mick's. This one's not actually payneland, being gen and Monty-centric. I know, gasp. It's a fantastic and very sweet exploration of Monty discovering his sense of self post canon and works as a great metaphor for recovery from toxic family/relationships. Also, the ex-animal solidarity and bonding with Mick is lovely.

what some circumstance stole by Chrome

The Sandman crossover featuring Edwin and Hob being kidnapped and tortured together. Their friendship is really wholesome with eventual Father Figure and Found Family Feels for the whole agency and background Dreamling.

dandelion wine (life and death in summertime) by world_wanderer

Payneland Right Person Wrong Time AU in which neither of them die but they still meet and become friends. The May/December friendship is sweet but tragic, with a bittersweet ending. Superb.

Mirror Image by Anonymous

Charles' afterlife gets taken over my an evil shape-shifting doppelganger, leaving him with plenty of time to regret never talking to Edwin about his feelings. Angsty but with Feelings Realisation and the Power of Love and Friendship vibes.

my healing needed more than time by babyseraphim

Case fic with de-aged Charles! Baby Charles is precious but be prepared for discussions of childhood trauma/abuse.

The same author has also written I'm So Aces at Babysitting, which is a really cute two-chaptered AU featuring Charles and Edwin babysitting the kid versions of each other, with bonus Crystal and Niko doing the same. It's very wholesome and the author writes little kids really well.

Pouring into me by tragedy_machine

Love me some "Charles wants to date Edwin to figure out his feelings but gets turned down" fic. Feelings are hard, OK?

thank u, next by KiaraSayre

Edwin fucks and Charles seethes. It's very funny and also features some interesting worldbuilding with the Fae.

Like We've Never Known Hurt by dearheartdont

Just cute established relationship PWP and praise kink. So good.

all of these hollows by handwrittenhello

The boys are alive again but sans memories. Can they still find each other and prove their devotion to the Night Nurse?? While also evading heavenly and hellish forces trying to keep them apart??? Very interesting concept executed well.

Suo Gân by emryses

The agency takes on the case of a traumatised Edwardian ghost searching for her missing baby... Read it for Edwin family feels.

Where Primroses Bloom by PantryJesus

Reading aloud as a love language and Watership Down feels. Idk, I'm now convinced that Edwin is kind of rabbit-coded with the whole "if they catch you they'll kill you. But first they must catch you" thing. A lovely well written fic.

I'm so sick of online love by Hse11z5

College/University AU where the boys meet through a dating app. It's cute.

you can have the best of me, baby (and I will give you anything) by aletterinthenameofsanity

Again, it's the Friends with Benefits but with real feelings and mutual pining for me. Now has a Charles PoV companion fic.

True Love's Kiss by Asidian

In which Charles curses himself with a Sleeping Beauty enchantment in order to confirm his feelings for Edwin and Crystal is the real MVP. I love this one because the boys are both SO stupid but in very different in-character ways.

I also recommend Promised, in which they kind of play the Green card angle to keep Edwin out of Hell? Which honestly needs to be more of a trope. And Tight Quarters, starring the boys trapped in a magic circle, leading to Forced Proximity induced Feelings Realization (in more ways than one! 😉).

Something I Can Turn To by DontOffendTheBees

I love some domestic fluff, in this case as an Everyone's Alive/Childhood Friends AU in which the boys are poor but happy living together. I liked how they both survive their respective traumas, but Reality Ensues.

I also recommend Lived My Whole Life Before the First Light for a lovely but melancholy Soulmate AU that goes for the "seeing colours" trope for extra wistful angst.

Dining at the Ritz by TerresDeBrume

Meeting the Parents fic in which Edwin's parents are awful and Charles is Not Having It. This has Everyone Thinks They're Dating and autistic Edwin stimming representation, plus discussions of racism, classism and ableism. The fic is also part of a great Modern AU series in which the boys attended St Hilarion's at the same time and Charles saved Edwin from a non-supernatural but still almost deadly prank. Highly recommended!

The Case of the Couples Retreat by juliasfanart

Listen, I can't get enough of undercover fake dating/relationships at a couples retreat, OK? Some minor angst but overall very cute and fluffy.

acu (aysar cinematic universe) by ObsessedWithFandom

The agency is hired to solve the mystery of Charles' death and bring his killers to justice. I'm genuinely obsessed with this series; I love its OCs and Charles having an exboyfriend gives Edwin a fun crisis. Plus haunting Charles' killers is very satisfying and cathartic. Just imagine they're Netflix execs, y'all.

*Not actually quick, as it turns out. 😅

I love doing these lists because I always think I've only got a few recs and then I look back over my recent bookmarks and I've got a metric ton of great fics to rec. You guys are so talented. ❤️

[javiscigarette]

Ease

Javier Peña x f!reader

Requested:

requesting… daddy!javi comforting u after a stressful work day 👀 pls n thank

warnings: no use of y/n, established relationship, fingering, squirting, spitting, spanking, a bit ass play (I cant resist), dirty talk, daddy!javi obviously, d/s dynamics obviously, extreme overuse of pet names and I'm not sorry, fluffy Javi deserves its own warning

w/c: 5.3k

a/n: the long overdue Javi fic is finally here lmao I wrote this very quickly and I haven't written for him in a long time so it may not be my best but I'm honestly just proud that I finally got something out :)) pls let me know if you like it!! ALSO! I reached 1.5k followers awhile ago which is just mind blowing so I just wanted to say THANK YOU to everyone who has joined me and continues to support me. This blog and all the friends I've made here have helped me through some pretty rough times and I'm forever grateful AHHH I just you all soo much!!

my masterlist

You’re not there to greet him when he opens the door. Usually you’d have a glass of whiskey in your hand for him, already a little tipsy from the glass you had for yourself earlier.

There’s a unpleasant shiver that runs down his spine as the thought of you being in some sort of danger immediately crosses his mind. But the sound of you puttering around in the kitchen gives you away. That and the haze of smoke and smell of burnt food wafting through the entire apartment. 

He kicks his shoes off and loosens his tie as he rounds the corner to the kitchen to find you standing in front of the stove, tending to what he assumes is some chicken in a pan. The exhaust fan on the range hood and the ceiling fan are working overtime, pushing the smoke out of the kitchen and through the open window. 

“Hi, bebita” Javi says as he enters the smokey kitchen. You don’t say anything in response, just give him a quick sideways glance before turning back to the stove. 

He crosses the room and moves to stand behind you. Maybe if he had seen the frown on your face, or the way your eyebrows are deeply creased in frustration, he would’ve said something very different. 

But he didn’t see. 

“Dinner smells delicious” he teases, squeezing your hips. He’s expecting a little chuckle from you, or at least an annoyed eye roll with a hidden smile. 

So he’s caught very off guard when you slam the spatula down on the counter with a loud, frustrated sigh.

“Well I’m sorry that I tried to make a nice meal. Guess I’m fuckin’ useless at that too.” 

You try to push yourself out of his grasp, but his grip only tightens. 

“Hey okay okay, easy.” Javi soothes, turning you around so you’re facing him. “What’s wrong, bebita?” he asks, his tone immediately switching from teasing to soft and tener.You puff out a heavy sigh, refusing to look up at him and staring at his white shirt stretched across his chest instead. 

All the thoughts about your horrid day at work that you’ve been trying to block out break the damn and come flooding back into your head; your boss telling you that you fucked up two different major tasks and refusing to tell you how to do them correctly, catching your coworkers gossiping about you in the breakroom, your computer dying right before you could save any of the work you had done for the day, and how you tried to come home and cook as a distraction but you clearly forgot about the chicken sitting on the stove and almost caught the house on fire. 

You hadn’t even noticed the tears welling up in your eyes until Javi is wiping away the ones that have brimmed over and slid down your cheeks. 

“Cariño…” Javi whispers, his tone drenched with concern. That’s all it takes. You instantly break down, falling forward into Javi’s chest as your whole body shakes as you sob, your tears wetting the crisp fabric of his shirt. 

You tell him everything in between wet gasps and uneven breaths, unloading everything at once. He just holds you through it, nodding along and giving you an occasional understanding hum while running his palms up and down your back until you finish talking. 

“Your boss is an asshole” is the first thing Javi says. “Your coworkers too” 

You respond with a pathetic sniffle. “I really fucked up though. And now everyone thinks I can’t do my job” 

"Bebita,” Javi starts, continuing to rub soothing circles on your back. “Everyone has tough days at work. It doesn't define your abilities or your worth. You're so much more than a single bad day."

You sniffle again, still leaning heavily against him for support. 

"It's just... I'm tired of feeling like I'm constantly failing."

Javi clicks his tongue and moves one hand to use two fingers to gently tilt your chin up, making you meet his easy gaze. 

"You're not failing, mi amor. Sometimes things don’t go as planned and that’s okay. You're learning and growing."

You wish he wasn’t so right all the time. Sometimes talking back to the false narrative that runs rampant in your head 24/7 is too much work. 

"I know”  you sigh, wiping away tears with the back of your hand. “It’s just hard not to let it get to me."

Javi's thumb brushes against your cheek, his touch gentle and comforting. 

"I understand. Just remember you're not alone in this. I’ll always be here for you, my sweet girl” 

You manage a weak smile, feeling a bit of warmth starting to seep back into your heavy heart. 

“Thank you” you whisper.

Javi smiles warmly, his eyes full of admiration and unwavering support. 

“Of course, baby. I’m here for you always. No matter what.” 

You let your head fall back to his chest and you take a deep breath. He keeps rubbing your back, physically feeling the tension leaving your body as you melt against him. Without your brain in overdrive, you finally register the smell of his faded cologne and his cigarettes sticking to his shirt, the scent immediately washing away more of the tension in your muscles. The warm feeling in your chest starts to spread all the way down to your toes, your whole body feeling 10 times lighter than it did 5 minutes ago as his embrace brings you a sense of solace you hadn’t experienced all day. 

After another silent minute or two, he places a kiss to your hairline before leaning in close, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. 

“You know, there’s another way to forget about it for a little while.”

His low voice alone already has the base of your spine tingling. You pick your head up to meet his gaze, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. 

“Yeah?” you ask, a weak smile slowly spreading across your face.

“Mhmm” he hums, his hands sliding down to your waist and slipping under the hem of your shirt, his warm fingers splaying over your skin. 

"You've had a tough day," Javi continues, his voice a sensual murmur. "And I think you deserve something to take your mind off all that stress."

His words, laden with suggestion, push all the worries out of your body, replacing it with a thrill that courses through your veins. He leans in until his face is inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. "Let me take care of you, bebita."

All you can do is nod dumbly. Javi grins as he pulls you in closer. His lips capture yours in a slow, tantalizing kiss, his lips soft and warm against yours, the taste of him flooding your senses. His hands slide up from your waist to your rib cage, rucking up your shirt in the process. Every touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, drawing you impossibly closer to him. He pulls away just long enough to pull it over your head before his lips capture yours again. 

He wraps one arm around you, keeping you close as his other hand cups your jaw, his fingers curling around the back of your neck as his thumb mindlessly brushes your cheek. Your hands find their way to his back, fingers tracing the lines of his muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. 

He swipes his tongue across your bottom lip and you part your lips with a soft sigh, his tongue immediately sliding against yours. It’s a dance of desire and vulnerability, an unspoken promise that he’s here to take away all of your worries. The rest of the world quickly fades into a distant blur, leaving just the two of you in this electric connection.

 His lips eventually leave your mouth, his breathless chuckle fanning across your jaw at the sound of your quiet whimper. He trails wet kisses along your jaw, down to the side of your neck, each one accompanied by a soft exhale that causes goosebumps to erupt over every inch of your skin. The sensation is exquisite and maddeningly arousing, and you find yourself tilting your head back, giving him better access. 

His teeth gently graze over your pulse point, sending shiver coursing through your entire body. Your heart races as he finds a spot just below your collarbone, nipping and sucking before soothing the dark spot with his tongue. His hands roam your torso, big, warm palms exploring every inch of exposed skin. You can feel the bulge in his jeans rapidly grow against your hip and your core throbs with a dull ache in response. Everything that happened earlier is miles away as you feel yourself relaxing deeper into his embrace, losing yourself in him. 

He pulls away when you whine quietly and looks down at you, his pupils already blown with lust and desire. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear then ducks down to place a chaste kiss to your lips before whispering “Bedroom. Now.” 

You nod and turn to head out of the kitchen, letting out a small giggle when he lands a quick slap to your ass. His eyes are glued to your backside as he follows you to the bedroom, his fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt along the way

You flop down on the edge of the bed with Javi just a few steps behind you. He tosses his shirt to the corner of the room and starts working on his belt as he stalks towards you. You smirk and reach behind you, undoing the clasp of your bra and letting it slide off your arms. Javi licks his lips at the sight of you sitting there in only your soft cotton shorts, looking like he’s about to pounce on his prey. 

He crosses the room until he’s standing inches in front of you, then slips his belt out of the loops and tosses it aside. You reach out, intent on undoing the button and zipper of his jeans but he stops you by wrapping a large hand around your wrist before you can touch him. 

“Nuh uh, baby. I’m takin’ care of you tonight”  

His words send a strong pulse of excitement down your spine and your heart pounds in your chest. He lets go of your wrist and you let it fall limply back to your side as you stare at him through your lashes. 

“Take off your shorts.” 

You immediately follow his command, quickly standing and moving to slide your shorts and panties down your legs so fast that you stumble a bit when they get caught around your feet. Javi reaches out and grabs your arm to steady you as you step out of your shorts and kick them to the side. 

“Good girl” he chuckles, dropping his hand from your arm. You watch with wide eyes, saliva gathering in your mouth as he shuffles out his jeans, his hardened cock gently slapping against his lower abdomen. He catches your gaze and gives you a knowing wink before making his way onto the bed. You stand in place, patiently waiting for your next set of instructions as he props himself up against the headboard. 

“C’mere” he says softly, patting his thigh. You positively beam as you climb on the bed towards him. You face him and you’re about to straddle his lap, but he stops you with a hand on your hip. 

“Turn around, cariño.”

You listen and immediately turn around and sit down between his spread legs, pressing your back into his chest. His cock presses firmly into the small of your back, a warm and welcome presence. With a contented sigh, you lean back and rest your head on his shoulder. 

“You listen so well, baby” Javi rasps, his voice rough with arousal. You only hum in response, your lips curving into a grin as you glow under his praise. He presses a kiss to your temple and his hands find your torso once again, slowly sliding up and down your sides. But he can only resist temptation for so long. 

He uses both hands to cup your breasts and you both let out soft sighs in unison. 

“Tan bonita, princesa” he whispers, his fingers finding both of your nipples. A small noise escapes from your parted lips as he feathers the pads of his fingers over the sensitive buds, teasing you until they’re stiffened peaks. He then pinches both, gently rolling them between his thumb and fingers. 

“That feel good?” he asks softly, his lips moving against your temple. 

You nod, letting out an uneven breath as you involuntarily push your chest forward into his touch. He pinches a little harder, pulling a delicate gasp from you. His cock twitches against you in response. 

“Want you to use your words, bebita.” 

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before responding. 

“F-feels good, Javi.” 

He clicks his tongue and squeezes a little harder again. 

“And what do you call me when I’m makin’ you feel good, princesa?” he asks, his voice dangerously low in your ear. 

Your mouth goes dry and your heart skips a beat in your chest. 

Fuck. 

The stress of your day was already far in the back of your mind, but Javi was intent on erasing it completely. And he knows exactly how to do so. 

“Daddy” you correct yourself, the simple word placing you on precipice of submission “Feels really good, daddy” 

“That’s right, bebita” Javi groans softly, his cock twitching in approval. “Such a good girl for me.” 

He then hooks his chin over your shoulder while you exhale a long, shaky breath as one of his hands leaves your breast and slides down your stomach. You clit pulses in anticipation, but he avoids where you want him most and instead smooths his hand over the top of your thigh. Your chest heaves with every breath as he teases you with gentle touches, getting you all worked up just the way you both like it. 

“You want me to touch you, princessa?” Javi asks, his fingertips dancing delicately on the inside of your thigh. It tickles and you reflexively try to close your legs, but he brings his foot to the inside of your calf and pushes it to the side before placing his foot flat on the bed, keeping your leg firmly in place. “Answer me.” 

“Yes, daddy, please” you whine, your voice coming out a lot more desperate than you intended. 

“Where, baby? Tell me where you want daddy’s fingers.” 

He’s teasing you, but it serves as an excellent distraction –  the events from earlier today are the least of your concerns right now. 

“You want them here?” he asks, his fingers now just barely tracing your dripping seam. “Want me to touch your pretty little pussy? Rub that pretty little clit?” 

You nod fervently and buck your hips up without thinking, your body betraying your patience and chasing after his touch. Javi chuckles darkly and harshly pinches your nipple with his other hand, making you jump in surprise. 

“Tell me, baby. Be a good girl and tell me.” 

You whimper, a hot flush spreading across your chest and creeping up your neck. You’ve been here a thousand times with him, been in far more desperate situations too. But the butterflies still tickle your tummy and the tips of your ears burn with embarrassment. 

“Want…want you to touch my pretty little pussy, daddy.” you murmur, the last of your sentence barely audible. 

He immediately rewards you by dipping two fingers into your slippery folds, groaning softly in your ear when he feels how wet you are for him. “Mmm that’s my good girl. Always fuckin’ soaked for me, huh?” he asks, dipping the tips of his fingers into your hole, gathering your slick and dragging it up to your clit. You nod lazily, your eyes fixed on his hand between your legs. 

He starts with slow, languid circles, his cock pulsing against your back with every small noise that bubbles up out of your throat. His other hand is still occupied with pinching and rolling your nipple. Hot arousal flows through your veins, every nerve ending on fire just from his easy touches. You want it faster, you need more. But you know he won’t give it to you unless you ask. 

“Pl-please, daddy. Faster please” you huff, squirming in his lap as you try to suppress the urge to buck your hips up again. 

“Look at you, princesa. Being such a good girl asking’ nicely like that” Javi whispers, instantly picking up the pace of his fingers and adding more pressure. You let out a long, low moan, the sound of it filling the bedroom. “Sound so pretty too” he adds, pressing his lips to your temple. 

His other hand leaves your nipple and he shushes you softly when you whine at the loss. He doesn’t tease you this time, his hand immediately joining the other between your legs. He keeps his two fingers on your clit, rubbing firm circles just like you asked while his other hand finds your leaking entrance. 

He doesn’t make you ask again before he slides his middle finger inside of you, probably more out of his own desperation to feel you clenching around him. You’re absolutely soaked, you juices freely flowing out of you, down his finger and into his palm like warm honey. He wants to draw it out, slowly work you up until you’re about to snap, but he’s not feeling very patient anymore. 

He slides his finger in and out of you a few more times before adding a second, curling his fingertips. He finds the spot inside of you instantly and you reward him with a loud gasp, your whole body trembling as you relax against his chest. 

“That’s it, baby. Just relax for me” Javi coos, his voice tight and strained as he tries to contain his own excitement. He pumps his fingers inside you, his fingertips nudging against the spot that has your whole body jolting with every pass. Every inch of your skin feels on fire as he works you, lewd sounds filling the room as he plays with your slick pussy. You feel wetness on your back and quickly realize that it’s his precum leaking from his warm tip, smearing against your skin as you squirm around. 

“Mierda, princesa” Javi groans as you clench tightly around his two fingers. “You close, baby?” he asks, already knowing the answer. You answer with a high-pitched whine, throwing your head back on his shoulder. 

“Cum for me, baby” Javi grunts, moving his fingers faster, bringing you to the edge. “Cum all over my fingers and then I’ll fuck you, nice and deep just how you like it” 

His fingers are relentless, rubbing dizzying circles on your clit and punching up into your g-spot. You can’t hold back anymore, rocking your hips and grinding down on his fingers. Your chest burns with every breath you manage to suck in, the hot coil in your tummy wound tightly, threatening to burst at any moment. You open your mouth and try to tell him that you’re about to cum, but every time you try to speak, the only sounds that come out are loud gasps in-between broken moans. 

And then you finally snap. Javi groans as you clamp down around his fingers, so tight that he can hardly keep moving them. He then quickly pulls them out, his eyes wide with amazement as your juices gush out of you, drops of it landing on his leg, most of it soaking the blankets underneath you. 

 “There’s my good girl” he hisses between clenched teeth. He watches intently as you thrash around, the sight of you squirting and the sweet sounds of your moans going straight to his cock as he works you through your orgasm. He doesn’t let up until you come down, whimpering and jolting at his touch. 

You collapse backwards against his chest, your head on his shoulder as you pant and try to catch your breath. He goes back to tracing your seam, his touch featherlight once again. You let out a sigh, your limbs heavy and head fuzzy with pure ecstasy.

He eventually moves his hands away, placing them on your thighs and letting out a low whistle. 

“Did so well, princesa. Look how much you came for me” Javi rasps, nosing at the column of your neck.

You pick your head up, looking down at the aftermath of your orgasm. You laugh breathlessly at the dark spot underneath you and the liquid on Javi’s calf shining in the dim glow of the lamp on the bedside table. Javi’s chest rumbles with his own chuckle as he presses sweet kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck. 

He doesn’t give you much time to recover before he taps your thighs and gives you your next command. “Hands and knees, princesa.” 

You’ve barely had time to catch your breath, but your pussy still aches in anticipation of his earlier promise. You take a deep breath and find enough strength to sit up straight. Your limbs are weak and noodly as you crawl over to a dry spot on the bed and get into position, your ass in the air with your face pressed against the soft blankets. 

You crane your neck to watch Javi who flashes you a devilish grin as he assumes his position on his knees behind you. You give him a sweet smile back and wiggle your ass. And he takes the bait, groping your cheeks with both hands before he spreads you open, putting everything on display just for him. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous, baby.” he growls before leaning over to spit. You gasp and moan softly at the feeling of the warm liquid landing on your asshole and sliding down to pool at your swollen clit. He then brings his thumb up, using the pad to gently rub his saliva against your puckered hole. “So fuckin’ gorgeous” 

“Daddyyyy” you whine pitifully, pushing your hips back into his touch. He chuckles breathlessly and wraps a hand around the base of his cock and lining himself up. 

“You’re so good, baby.” Javi starts as he slides his cock in the mess between your cheeks. “My strong, beautiful, intelligent, good girl.”

Your face heats up at the praise, the words stirring up the butterflies in your stomach yet again. 

“Thank you, daddy” you murmur, the sound muffled by the blankets. Javi just hums and continues to glide his cock through the wetness, addicted to the way whimper every time his cockhead brushes against your swollen clit and your aching entrance. You whimper and wiggle your hips again, trying to get what you want. 

“Repeat it.” Javi commands simply. “Wanna hear you say it” 

You squeeze your eyes shut and whimper again. He’s completely taken over your headspace now, forcing you into a place of submission where there’s no room to think about anything other than him and what he asks of you. This is how he takes care of you, how he can turn every bad day on its head and take away every single one of your worries until you’re a blissed out mess underneath him. And he’s really fucking good at it. 

“I’m your strong, beautiful, intelligent, girl” you choke out, a fresh wave of slick gushing out of you and onto his rock hard cock at the forced admission.

“Forgot one” he breathes, his thumb still rubbing at your tight little hole. You wrack your brain, thoughts moving slower than syrup in your head as you try to remember what he said not even 10 seconds ago. 

“Good.” you say, as soon as you remember. I’m you’re good girl, daddy.” 

“Yes you are, baby” Javi says, notching his tip at your entrance. “So fucking good for your daddy.” 

He pushes all the way in, burying himself to balls deep in your aching cunt in one smooth movement. The sounds you make are obscene as you twist your fists in the blanket underneath him. He’s so deep, you swear you can feel him somewhere near your lungs. Just like he promised. He moans roughly behind you, the feeling on your warm walls squeezing rhythmically around his neglected cock overwhelming all of his senses.

But you don’t let him catch a break. You barely give yourself time to adjust before you take matters into your own hands and start rocking your hips, fucking yourself on his cock. Javi inhales sharply, both hands finding your hips and trying to hold you in place, but you’re not having it. 

“Daddy please–oh shit– please fuck me, need it so bad” you whine as you continue to rock your hips despite Javi’s best efforts to stop you. 

Javi just growls in response, his fingertips digging into your hips as he slides out until just his tip rests inside before slamming back into you. The loud moan that he pulls from you travels as a shiver down his spine and fuels his fire. He quickly finds a steady pace, brutally slamming into you like he’s fucking the stress out right out of your body. You let all the moans and whines and whimpers float freely out of your mouth as you take what he gives you, as he fills you up and stuffs you full over and over and over again. 

“You're so good for me” Javi grunts, gripping your hips and moving them backwards to meet his every thrust. “Feel so fucking good squeezing me like that, this tight little pussy was fucking made for me” 

Your eyes roll back into your head, his words once again turning your brain into mush as he fucks you into another plane of existence. You’re already teetering on the edge of another release, your lower abdomen burning with it, your swollen, neglected clit pulsing and desperate for attention.

And Javi feels it too.

“Already gonna cum again?” Javi asks breathlessly before landing a smack to your ass. You yelp in shock and there’s another wave of your juices leaking out onto his cock. 

“Ohh you like that, don’t you baby?” Javi coos before spanking you again, this time a bit harsher. Your face scrunches in pleasure and words have completely eluded you so you just cry out against the mattress, hoping that and your clenching pussy gets the point across. 

Thankfully Javi doesn’t ask you to answer him. Instead he keeps fucking into you, delivering firmm hits to your ass, completely mesmerized with the way it jiggles as he spanks and fucks into you. He’s just as close as you are, never lasts very long if he’s inside without cumming at least once beforehand. 

He moves one hand from your hip to between your legs, his fingers tracing where you’re stretched out so nicely around his thick cock before they land on your clit once again. You sob as he starts immediately rubbing fast, harsh circles that send you speeding towards the finish line. 

“Oh fuck, daddy! Gonna cum m’gonna cum pleasssee let me cum” 

Javi sucks in a harsh breath, his eyebrows furrowing together as his cock lurches inside of you. 

“Yeah, fuck yeah, baby. Cum on this cock like a good girl” Javi grits out, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he clenches his teeth together, trying to hold himself together. Your hands scramble against the blankets as he slams into you with newfound vigor, pushing you up the bed with each thrust and making you scream in ecstasy.

“Cum and then I’ll fill you up” he grunts. “I’ll fill you up and fuck it so deep that it’ll be leaking out of you for days, just reminding you of how good you are for me. Always so fucking good baby jesus christ” 

His filthy promises send you flying over the edge. You bury your face in the blankets and scream, your legs giving out from the force of it, your hips dropping to the bed and leaving you in a prone position. And Javi doesn’t miss a beat. He presses his chest against your back, using his freehand to support the bulk of his weight as he keeps working his fingers on your clit the best he can, not letting his pace falter even once. 

The new position shoves his cock even deeper inside of you, punching against your cervix with each thrust as he rearranges your guts. Your only option is to lie there let him drag out your release for as long as possible. 

“That’s it” Javi rasps, his voice sounding absolutely wrecked now. “Sweet little pussy is fuckin’ milking my cock, cariño. You want my cum? Want me to stuff you fuckin’ full?” 

You’re too far gone to respond, reduced to nothing but putty in his hands, your trembling body limp and pliant just for him to use. He can only hold it together for a few more thrusts before he buries himself all the way inside of you, spilling his hot seed deep inside of you.

Staying true to his promise, he fucks you through it, shallowly moving his hips and pushing his cum as deep as possible. You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, the sensation of it all pushing you over the edge once again, though you’re not sure if you ever came back from the last one. Javi watches in amazement as you cum again, your voice breaking on desperate sobs while you squeeze around him, truly milking him for all he’s worth.

He moves his hand from your clit once your moans start to die down and then collapses on top of you, carefully though as not to completely crush you. You welcome the weight, a comforting pressure that makes you feel so warm and safe and secure. 

He stays buried inside of you as you both come down. You can feel his heart pounding from where his chest is pressed against you, his warm breath fanning across your neck as you both try to catch your breath. The two of you stay there for a while, basking in the post coitus glow. His cock softens inside of you and he only moves when his cum starts to dribble out of you. 

You whine softly as he moves to sit up, his now soft cock slipping out of you and leaving you feeling empty. But the feeling doesn’t last too long. 

He scoots back so he’s kneeling between your legs, both hands on your cheeks and spreading you open again. You feel his eyes burning holes into your skin as he watches his cum slowly leaking out of you. He doesn’t let it fall too far though, using a finger to scoop up all that’s dribbled out and pushing it back inside. You moan softly at the sensation and it takes everything in him not to fuck you with his fingers once again. 

“Think we need to get you in a nice hot shower” he says, his tone sweet and soft once again as he removes his fingers. 

You turn your head to look at him through hooded eyes, a dopey smile plastered to your face, looking completely fucked out.

“And we’re ordering take out too” he announces, leaning over to place a sweet kiss on your cheek. Images of the burnt chicken sitting on the stove float through your head, along with fuzzy memories of the events from earlier today. But you don’t give a single fuck anymore. Javi thoroughly wiped every ounce of stress from your brain. And now anything that isn’t directly related to you and Javi at this moment, on your shared bed in the dim light of the evening sun filtering through the curtain is far, far away. 

“We’re not getting fucking chicken” is all you say and the sound of yours and Javi’s laughter rings pleasantly through the room and in your ears as content seeps deep into your bones.

I LOVE THIS MAN okay thank u for reading <333

[the-froschamethyst4]

Embrace

𖤐Pairing: Husband! Ghost x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: fluff, language, kissing, married couple, children, more use of Simon than Ghost, protective Simon, a worried and caring mother,

𖤐Summary: Y/n and Simon’s daughter Luna is having a hard time being able to see, in school her teacher notices a few signs and has a talk with the parents to discuss about possible glasses for the child

————

————

“Mr. and Mrs. Riley, please come in,” Luna’s 3rd grade teacher Mrs. Anderson has called both Y/n and Simon to the school to talk to them about their daughter.

“Is everything okay with Luna?” Y/n asked, nervously.

“Oh yes, she is doing just fine, grades are amazing but ummm~ I wanted to talk about her writing…”

“What’s wrong with her writing?” Simon asks.

“Oh it’s nothing bad but we usually have our annual spelling bee on Fridays and well. I’ve noticed that her handwriting it’s a bit…odd.”

“How odd?” Simon sounded offended.

“Simon.”

“Oh no I understand how that may sound but I mean it in no disrespect Mr.Riley…well…here this was from Luna’s test last week…I have a hard time grading it because of the poorly written handwriting.”

“I see,” Y/n says examining her daughter’s work.

“I mean I could read it but it was hard for to notice if she spelled it right or not…I’ve also picked up on how she writes…she writes with her face very close to the paper to be able to see…does she have glasses or anything?”

“No, we were never told that she may need them.” Y/n places her hand on Simon’s. “Luna’s last check up with the doctor was just a month ago and he never said anything.”

"Could we just see if she needs them? I don't want her falling behind or struggling later on."

"Of course," Y/n says.

"What the hell does that teacher know," Simon and Y/n walked hand-and-hand down the hall.

"Simon, don't cuss in a school," Y/n warns him.

"Shouldn't we know what's best for Luna?"

"Simon, if she's saying she's worried we have to take that into consideration, I'll take her to the optometrist Saturday and we'll see," Y/n says.

As they walked to the front office they saw Luna, she sat in a dark blue chair looking at a poster on the wall, she squints her eyes like she was trying to see. Y/n's heart clenches in her chest knowing the teacher maybe right.

"Luna," Y/n coos for her daughter. She looks at Y/n and Simon getting off the chair and running to them both.

---------

Luna sat in her car seat humming the song that was playing as Y/n pulled into a parking lot.

"Mama, where are we?"

"We are at the doctors."

"The doctor?" Luna hated the doctor like every child does.

"Just an eye doctor baby," Y/n gets out of the car and comes around unbuckling her daughter. She places her on the ground and Luna grabs Y/n's hand as they walked through the doctors door.

Almost immediately they were greeted by a young lady from behind the desk.

"Hi, I had made an appointment with Doctor Avery."

"Luna Riley?"

"Yes," Y/n says.

"Ok, follow me," the lady gave Y/n some paper work to fill out as Luna saw some glasses. She walks up to them and picked up a small light pink pair.

"Careful with them, baby," Y/n says as Luna just put them back and sat next to her mom.

"Mama, why are we here?"

"Your teacher, Mrs. Anderson says you are having a hard time seeing, she moved you up to the front because you told her that you couldn't see from the back seat."

"Yeah," Luna says, looking over her moms arm and seeing her fill out the paperwork. "I can see mama."

"Luna, how many finger am I holding up?" Luna is holding up 4 fingers.

"5?"

"4, baby."

"I was close."

"Yeah, but you need some baby, who knows maybe you just need them to read and not for distance," Y/n says.

"Luna Riley?" Y/n stood up grabbing her purse and waiting for Luna to take Y/n's hand.

"Luna Riley," Y/n repeats.

"Follow me," the man says with a soft smile. They walk to a back room and Y/n places Luna on a chair with paper on it.

"Okay, Luna have you ever had glasses before?"

"No," Luna says and shakes her head.

"Alright, that's okay," he says. "Mom you had wrote down that she can see far away but it's mainly close up, right?"

"Correct," Y/n says.

Okay, now, Luna I am going to run some tests on you, and ask some questions, okay?"

"Okay." Luna was nervous, she's never been here and it's a different and new environment she's not use to.

"When you look at things close up, do you get headaches?"

"Sometimes," Luna says.

"Are they bad headaches where you close your eyes?" Luna nods.

"Do you get cloudy vision?" Luna shakes her head.

"It's like...fuzzy," Luna says. Doctor Avery kept asking Luna and Y/n questions, and then Doctor Avery had move onto the tests.

Shining a light in her eyes to see her pupils delight, and making her follow the light and also making her seeing if she could see certain letters.

"Can you read the bottom line for me?"

"It's blurry, I can't see it."

"Okay, that's fine. What about this line?"

"Can't see it." The lines kept getting bigger and bigger till Luna was finally able to read the line. "B...F...E...Z...O?"

"Okay, good, here...Luna can you read me the third row?"

"F...E...Z...A? T."

"Okay, okay, good," Doctor Avery then gave her some weird looking glasses. Adjusting them to see if Luna could see clearly with a certain lens over her eyes.

"Okay, Luna tell me if lens A or lens B is better."

"A."

"Okay...lens B or lens C?"

"C."

"Alright, lens C or lens D?"

"C."

The test went on for a little bit as Doctor Avery listened to Luna and what she could and could not see. As Doctor Avery took notes for Luna and what proper lens she will need.

Now it was time for Luna to start her glasses picking. Luna sat at the small wooden table with glasses spread out in front of her. Some bright and colorful and other dark colors.

She picks up the small light pinks one from earlier. She puts them on and looks in the small mirror in front of her and turned behind her looking up at Y/n.

"Mama, what about these?"

"They look so cute on you, baby," she smiles as she bends down, her hand on Luna's back and the other resting on the table helping Luna decide which ones she wanted.

"How many do I get mama?"

"Two pairs."

"I want the pink and yellow," Luna says.

"Alright, we will get the lens in them and by Monday they should be good, would like us to mail them or would you like to come and pick them up?"

"Pick them up should be good," Y/n says as Doctor Avery took the pink and yellow pair to the back.

---------

Simon sat at the kitchen counter with Luna, she was trying to read but had a hard time.

"Luna, baby don't hurt yourself, go take a break," Y/n says as Luna closed to the book, hopping off the stool and going to play with her toys.

"When do those glasses come in?" Simon asked.

"Tomorrow, which reminds me, could you take her? I have a meeting tomorrow."

"Sure, my love," Simon says, walking to Y/n and kissing her lips.

-----------

Simon had picked up Luna after school, and immediately took her back to the eye doctor. Simon held Luna on his hip and walked through the door.

Luna smiles and they walk to the counter.

"Hi," Simon's deep voice booms.

"Oh, hello, sir, how can I help you?"

"I have an order to pick up."

"Yes of course, name?"

"Luna Riley." Simon then places Luna on the counter as the girl gets the glasses and places them on Luna's face.

"Do they need to be readjusted?"

"Yes," Luna says, taking the glasses off.

"Are the lens alright?"

"Yes," Luna then looks at Simon. Simon smiles at his daughter. "I can see you daddy," she says, which just melts Simon's heart to hear that from his daughter.

"I'm glad, baby," Simon says, cupping her face and kissing her forehead. "Thank you."

"Of course, have a good day," the lady smiles as Simon took his daughter back home.

---------

"MAMA! MAMA! LOOK AT MY GLASSES!!" Luna yells excitedly as she runs into the house.

"Oh my baby, can you finally see?"

"Yeah, mama you have a pretty face," Luna places her hands on her moms face making Y/n's heart clench in her chest and she kisses Luna's cheek making her laugh.

----------

Going to school the next day, Luna was nervous what the kids in her class will think. Luna sits in her chair in front of the class and some kids saw her glasses and went up to her to see them.

You'd think these kids have never seen someone with glasses before from how they acted.

"Luna are those new?"

"Can I see them?"

"Can I wear them?"

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Can you read?"

The questions kept coming and Luna would answer the best she could, none of the kids were being mean, they were just being like curious little kids, asking questions.

"Luna, I see you have glasses now," Mrs. Anderson bent down to Luna's level. She's glad Y/n and Simon took her advice that Luna may need glasses, most parents would have ignored Mrs. Anderson's advice.

"Yeah, I can see now," Luna says with a smile.

The whole day was Luna just being happy she could properly see now, Mrs. Anderson was going over the new spelling words for Friday.

Luna was excited that she could see and when going home, she told Simon about her day and how she was able to finally enjoy quiet reading time at school because she could see.

Luna use to not read during reading time because she couldn't see the words and her face would be shoved deep into the book, but now it was away from her face and she could read the words just fine.

"I'm glad you had a good day, baby."

"Me too, daddy." Luna says with a smile on her face as she ate her snack in the back of Simon's truck and drinking her bug juice (y'all remember those?)

[just-wrting]

Feeling Fangs Part 2

Title: Feeling Fangs Part 2

Pairing: Charlotte Katakuri x Wife!Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: You and Katakuri explore your relationship more after you remember things from the past that you try not to think about.

Master List Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

A/N: Wrote a part 2! This ended up longer than I expected due to things I wanted to put in it, but that’s fine. My fics have been getting longer and that’s good! My bf and I have officially reached Wano, so expect Law content in the future cause he’s also just a pretty boy. Anyway, here’s part 2 to a boy who took like three episodes to get into my top three one piece men. This is written for a female reader, but men, please send an ask if you want me to make it masculine!

You don't have the dream often, but when you do, you can never wake up on your own. It's like she's still staring down at you, waiting to destroy you for defying her. Sure it all worked out, but it still terrifies you as much as it did then.

The dream starts after you arrive. Your shoes clack against the polished floors, announcing your every step to all who are listening. Your jacket flutters behind you as you walk, giving off the impression of a cloak not a jacket. You've made sure that you picked out a new outfit to try to impress her, but you aren't sure she's a woman to be impressed by looks.

"An audience with Big Mom? You must be insane," the man escorting you jeers. "What makes you think you can get what you want?"

You don't reply, setting your jaw in determination. It's been something you've always been able to do. You get your way from almost everyone when you're this determined, not just your father. Not only that, you're banking on a few things to make you convincing.

The door swings open to a chorus of singing, the musical behind the door not stopping for you. It's just one of those techniques to intimidate you, and you won't fall for it. Not even as you swallow your heart back down and clench your fists to stop the fear. It's ridiculous. This whole plan is ridiculous all because you're stubborn about who you get to marry.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" she asks, leaning down to look at you. "To what do I owe the pleasure of having the next bride coming to my territory early?"

You sweep into a deep bow, not raising your eyes. Everything rests on your performance.

"I had a request. I fear that the groom you have paired me with is a bad match."

You can feel the heat of her anger. "Are you saying that I'm a bad matchmaker? All of my children are happy with their marriages, why wouldn't yours be the same?"

You straighten and hesitantly look at her. "I would never say that. What I fear may have happened, is you believe my role in my father's business. I may be his daughter, but I have yet to be labeled the heir."

"So you are useless?"

You gulp. "If that's how you choose to view it. I am merely being honest with you about my father. I'm begging you for your help, Big Mom. With your help, I can be named the heir. As soon as that happens, you are free to do with my father as you wish and I will turn it over to you."

She leans back and rubs her chin. "What does this have to do with the marriage?"

You keep your hands folded behind your back. "I need to marry someone who can protect me against anyone and who would never respect my father. I'm unsure how he does it, but he has been able to get very powerful people to do things he wants."

Thunder booms through the room as she growls at you. "Are you saying my children are weak?"

You bite your lip. How is she taking everything you say the wrong way?

"I have heard about some of your children more than others." You take a deep breath, trying to steady your ever growing nerves. "Perhaps it's a bit difficult to understand my perspective. You are the strongest woman on the seas. You're able to get yourself out of any fight you get in. You are unstoppable. I am nobody. I have no abilities and no fighting knowledge. Everyday I have to fear for my life. It would be better for you if I had a strong husband to rely on instead of running to you when I'm in danger."

You hold your back as straight as you can, pushing down all your fear. You have no idea if she's listening to you or if you're signing your own death warrant with every word you say.

She calms down. "So what you're saying is that you're afraid of getting hurt so you'd like one of my strongest children to marry you in exchange for handing over your father's empire?"

"In the simplest of terms, yes that is my request. You are a gracious woman for even listening to my request."

Her laughter echos through the room. "Very well. I hope you're okay with finding out which of my sons you'll marry at the wedding."

You dip into another bow. "Of course, whatever you wish I shall be okay with now that my fears have been put to rest."

She waves you off. "Begone now, I seem to have another person to speak to."

You walk out of the room as calmly as you can. Internally, you're both relieved and panicked. Now you have made your future even more twisted and unclear. The mere thought of going home or coming back here makes you sick.

As soon as you can, you duck into the shadows and start to retch. There's nothing to vomit, you skipped breakfast, but spit trails down your lips to the floor. All of your nerves are finally getting to you and you can't hold it back anymore.

There's a faint clinking sound as someone walks towards you, but you don't turn around. Not only is it a bit mortifying to be seen like this, you just don't have the energy. Who ever it is pauses a short distance away, never saying anything. You know it's to look at you. You left the door open behind you.

Normally the dream continues with you finding food, but still throwing it up as the Big Mom pirates sneer at you. This time, you jolt awake to see Katakuri looking at you with worry.

Your breathing is heavy as you fumble around, trying to get away. There's a million thoughts racing in your mind, but the most prominent one being that you have to leave. You don't even stop trying to get out of the bed as he picks you up and sets you in his lap.

"It's just me," he whispers as he pulls your head to his chest. "You're awake, and you're safe."

You do your best to focus on the sound of his breathing, trying to match it. It's a bit tricky since he's got larger lungs, but the deeper breaths help you slowly calm down. You ignore the rest of your body as you, pretending that you aren't still trembling.

You can't remember the last time you woke up like this. Maybe it was when you first got married and you were terrified of being surrounded by strangers. Maybe it was when they killed your dad and you kept getting those letters saying that people would get their revenge. Maybe it was just a few weeks ago when you woke up in a cold sweat wondering if you would ever see Katakuri again.

By the time you've calmed down, you forget why it scares you so much. It's just a dream of a time that you could've died but didn't. It's just a dream. It will only ever stay a dream.

"What happened?" His voice is soft as he kisses the top of your head. "Tell me."

You draw in a shaky breath. "It's just a dream I have sometimes. Just remembering why we got married in the first place. Did anyone ever tell you why?"

Katakuri gently rubs his thumb against your skin. It's nice to just have him hold you like this for a little bit. Even if you woke him and you feel like a bother.

"Mother just said that you were someone she needed to keep in check and I was the best fit for that. That's all I know."

"I marched in here and asked that she gave me a different son to marry. Part of it was I thought your brother was..." you search for the right word. "Not my type. Part of it was that I was scared to get killed by your family so I wanted one of her strongest sons so that way I was safer."

"Does that mean I'm your type?"

You can feel his face start to heat up as he leans against you. It's not something you ever really thought about, so you rack your brain for the answer.

"I'd say so. I didn't pick you out, your mom did, but that doesn't mean you aren't my type." Your face starts to heat up. "You are the prettiest one and I would be lying if I said that I hadn't thought of marrying you when I first heard about it."

He stops moving. "Why me?"

"Because you're my type. I keep learning new things about you that just tick more of my boxes so it worked out alright."

You tilt your head back and give him a soft kiss. For a moment he stays still, but he's quick to grab your chin and keep you there. It's only been a few weeks, but you've gotten plenty used to just how affectionate he is when you're alone.

"Like what?" His eyes look into yours, unblinking and persistent. "What do you like about me?"

"Are you really going to make me list off everything I like about you?"

Even in the dark his eyes shine, and you find yourself mesmerized. He looks so pretty and you reach up to play with his hair.

"Just a few things."

You pretend to think really hard about it. "Well, let me think. I like that you're honorable."

Pressing a kiss to his jaw, you continue to list things. "You care deeply about people."

A kiss to his cheek. "You're incredibly sweet."

A kiss to his nose. "And you have to be the prettiest man I've ever seen."

With a smile, you press your lips to his. You mean every word you said, and you hope he knows that. It's official. You've definitely fallen for him, but you'll keep that to yourself for now.

Katakuri grips your waist and pulls you closer. He's soft and warm, and it's just so comforting to be held. It hadn't taken you long to get used to this, and now you find yourself enjoying it.

Before you can react, he pulls away and presses a kiss to your temple. "It's still early in the morning, get more sleep."

Scowling, you decide to sass back. "Who are you to tell me what to do?"

He gives you another kiss. "Your husband."

"Uh-huh. And how long have you been my husband?"

"Three years, seven months, and," you hear the sound of him picking up the clock and setting it down. "Twelve days."

"I'm surprised you remember that. I forgot all about it last year." You put your head back against his chest. "Though you're never around for it."

He starts to rub your back again. "In case it was important. What made you remember?"

"Someone left me a gift to celebrate it. I don't know who, though they've left me a gift every year."

You close your eyes, content to just relax. Katakuri is always warm and soft. There's very little that's more relaxing than just laying on him and going to sleep.

"What did you do with them? Did you throw them out?" He sounds worried.

You give a halfhearted shake of your head. "Nope, they're in the top drawer of my dresser. The only thing I've considered throwing out is some stuff that an old friend sent me. Why? Did you send them?"

There's a rumble in his chest before he wraps his arm around you and rolls over. "Don't ask questions, just sleep."

"Have you been trying to woo me this whole time, Katakuri?"

He holds you tighter. "If I promise to tell you who left those tomorrow, will you go to sleep?"

You laugh. "Sure, but only if you promise."

"Alright, I promise. Now go to sleep."

It's not a hard thing to do. You're warm and comfortable right where you are, and you feel sleep tugging you back. The thing that gets you the most is the feeling of being safe. Right now, as you are, you feel absolutely safe for what must be the first time in a long time.

—-

You throw the clothes on the bed and groan. Nothing you've managed to pull out has worked or fit, and you're starting to go insane. How did it not cross his mind to tell you that you needed to go with him to some stupid meeting? Now you're stuck rifling through your closet looking for something that Big Mom won't kill you for wearing.

"Why didn't you tell me last night?" you whine as you pull out another shirt. "None of this is going to work."

Katakuri watches you from the bed, wearing the same thing he always wears. He has it easy with a wardrobe filled with replicas of his biker outfit. Sure he looks great in it, but would it kill him to wear something else and suffer with the ability to choose? Maybe something that could actually cover that massive chest of his.

"Should I pick for you?"

You wave at him dismissively. "No. I need to prove that I know what to wear to something like this. Otherwise if she wants to see me when you aren't around, I'll be in trouble."

You can feel his eyes on you, but you ignore it. It's not until you slip on another dress, that you realize he's been in the room the whole time. It never bothered you before. In fact, the first time you changed in front of him you told him that it didn't matter if he saw you change because you're married.

Now that's changed. Sure, you're still married, you've just started to be more romantic and physical with each other. After three years, you've started to actually act like a couple. It's only been about a month, and the realization has just started to set in.

Even though you've done this a hundred times, you suddenly feel exposed and embarrassed. Has he always looked at you like this and you just never noticed? Maybe you should just go change in the bathroom instead.

"This also doesn't fit, I can't get the zipper up. I think I'll do this in the bathroom instead."

The bed squeaks as he swings his legs off. "I can help."

You feel your body heat up. "That's not necessary. How much time do I have left? Maybe I can go buy something."

"You look fine in everything you wear," he adds. "I don't believe it matters what you wear."

"I just," you pause to slip the dress off. "I just want to be perfect. Everyone views you as perfect so I need to match that."

You rub the silk between your fingers before chucking it to the floor. It doesn't matter what you wear. You'll never be more to them than Katakuri's little wife. Someone who's a thorn in their side and took him away.

"You're already perfect," he mumbles. "Just wear what you like."

You don't respond. Not only can you not hear him, you aren't sure if anything he could say would make you feel better. Maybe that's for the best. Dealing with his family isn't something he can really help with. It a challenge you need to deal with on your own.

You continue to absentmindedly pull clothes out and toss them around. All you're actually doing is making a mess. It'll all have to be sorted, hung, and put away once more, and you probably won't have the energy.

Eventually you pull out something you forgot you owned. The fabric is soft and soothing to the touch. You think back to when you bought it, shortly after you got married. Clearly you were thinking about Katakuri, the color matches his eyes.

You pull it out and hold it up to your chest. "What do you think of this?"

He nods. "It suits you."

You hum in thought. That's not much a reaction. To be fair, he hasn't given you much of a reaction this whole time. Part of you wants him to give you more than that, you wish you could see if he was flustered. Unfortunately, he's all ready, complete with his scarf tucked under his nose.

"That's it?" You raise an eyebrow. "I think I was thinking about you when I bought it since I'm pretty sure your eyes are this color."

You make your way over to the bed and hold it up to his head. Leaning in close, you stare into his eyes, looking back and forth between him and the clothes. The color is practically a perfect match. You don't know how you managed to pull that off, but you feel proud of that.

"It's the same color." You brush his hair away from his eyes. "Such a pretty color."

Katakuri reaches up and grabs your hip. It hurts a bit, but you don't mind. You know he can't tell how much force he can apply to your skin so it's never intentional. Normally you just remind him that you're not a sixteen foot tall piece of muscle and he needs to be more gentle. This time, you don't have the chance.

He takes the hanger from you and tosses it on the nightstand. You frown before he pulls you into his lap. Having no idea what game he's play, you push his chest and huff.

"What are you trying to do?"

You're flustered at the position, straddling his thigh in your underwear. It's impossible to tell how he feels right now due to his face being in shadow, but you hope he's more confident than you are.

"Is there something wrong?"

You grip the soft leather covering his chest and cover your mouth. Squirming to get out of his grasp isn't helping. In fact, it's making things worse. The way he's holding you makes it impossible to escape.

Closing your eyes, you try to get control of your thoughts. Every time you move, you end up grinding against him. You feel dirty for wanting to keep going. A large part of you wants him, even if it's in this way.

"N-no. I'm fine."

You stifle a moan as he pulls you closer. It's like he's encouraging you to give in, but you can't bring yourself to do that just yet. Not when you don't know if you can, and especially when you don't know if you'd be able to stop.

There's the sound of him using his devil fruit, and soon he's lifting your chin up. You open your eyes just enough to look into his. He's not looking into your eyes, tracing your body with his gaze instead. When he finally does meet your gaze, his pupils are wide and his eyes are dark. You've never seen him like that, but for some reason it gives you the answer you need.

Even though you're covering your mouth, you bite your lip to keep yourself from making noise. You can't bring yourself to break eye contact as you start grinding against him. His brow furrows slightly before he closes his eyes. You feel his chest rise and fall in deep breaths under your hand as he seems to struggle with something.

Katakuri keeps you steady, his fingers digging into your skin. Your eyes flutter shut, and you drop your head into his chest. At this point, the movement of your hips is like second nature. The dragging of your cunt against his thigh brings you  pleasure you haven't felt in months.

Focusing on your own pleasure, you start to move faster. You slide your knees to the side just a bit more to get even closer. Whining at extra friction, you feel your whole body flush. Each rock of your hips sends jolts of pleasure to your core.

You spread your fingers, panting to get more air. It's starting to make your thighs and hips ache, but you can't stop. You don't want to stop. You're chasing the high of an orgasm.

After a few minutes of rolling your hips down into him, you start to lose your pace. The tension in your core is building to its peak and you can't focus on anything but reaching it. You're desperate and clinging to him like it'll help.

As if sensing your desperation, Katakuri guides your hips back and forth. You struggle to muffle the sounds you make as you feel the tension snap. Your legs shake as your orgasm courses through you, and you grip his jacket as tight as you can.

Your hips don't stop moving until you're over sensitive and whining. It takes a moment for you to catch your breath, your chest heaving as you go limp. You barely register Katakuri lifting you off his thigh and laying you on the bed. His touch is light and gives you goosebumps.

There's the soft feeling of a damp towel on your face and thighs as he wipes you down as best as he can. You give a peek to look at him, finding him still in intense concentration.

"I'll let you rest for a moment. We won't be late."

You nod and close your eyes. Not only did you have a nightmare last night, but you got your exercise in already this morning. It's surprisingly exhausting, and you feel like taking a nap. You could probably get away with it too, since Katakuri dotes on you.

You curl into a ball on his side of the bed, making yourself comfortable. It's still warm from where he was, and you absentmindedly reach for the blanket. Of course, you can't reach it. Deciding that it doesn't matter, you give up.

After what feels like seconds, he's gently shaking you awake again. You stretch and groan before rolling over. Risking your life for a few more minutes is stupid, but what else are you going to do? Get up and go to the meeting?

"Get dressed. I can carry you, but you have to wear something."

You pout. "I don't even want to go. Why do I have to go?"

He presses a kiss to your forehead. "I don't know, but it isn't wise to keep Mother waiting."

—-

You look at your lap. Most of the topics are about fixing up the remains of the chateau, something you couldn't care less about. As long as you and your husband have a room big enough for him, you'll be fine.

"Now, time for the reason I called some of you here," Big Mom announces, banging a spoon on her teacup. "I hope that at least some of you can fulfill my request."

What little noises that were being made stopped almost as soon as she started speaking. You glance at Katakuri who doesn't seem fazed. Deciding to calm down, you take your tea in your hand and take a sip.

"This attack against me has made me realize that I'm not quite as young as I once was. Therefore," she gestures around the table, "as all my married children, it is your job to continue growing our family. The first to bring me a grandchild will be rewarded."

You choke on your tea, coughing into the cup. Did she really just request that you start having kids? You're well aware of how old all of her married kids are, but she can't be serious. She already has a grandchild, not that she'll ever call the kid that.

"Is something wrong with my request?”

You shake your head aggressively. "Absolutely not. I thought for just a moment there was a bug in my tea, but it appears I'm just suffering from a lack of sleep. I'm sorry for the disruption."

You don't even pay attention the rest of her talk. Who knows what she's going on about with her age, some of her kids aren't even double digits? Maybe this is just some plan to get you killed in the dumbest way possible. How are you supposed to have kids with Katakuri of all guys? He's sixteen feet tall.

That's not to say you haven't thought about having kids with him. Even if it's been in a more 'how would this work' way and less of a 'I really want kids' way. You’ve only started to be comfortable with him in the romantic sense in the past month or two so you haven’t had the chance to even discuss such a topic. Though you don’t think you’d mind trying.

You shake your head slightly, attempting to get rid of the thoughts. This sort of situation is not the time to be thinking like that. Even if he keeps looking over at you to make sure you’re okay.

Thankfully the meeting ends after a few more minutes, and you head outside. The stress of being around so many of the Big Mom pirates is giving you jitters and you want to just curl up into a ball and scream. Normally they leave you alone, even if giving you dirty looks, but this time you were forced to partake in a dumb meeting about having kids.

Just as she had asked, Katakuri stays behind for a few more minutes. You watch the door anxiously, biting your nails as you wait. It’s a bad habit, but you can’t break it due to moments like these. Moments where you aren’t sure what’s going to happen to you or your husband. Moments where your whole life could be upturned. Thankfully, he comes out looking fine, if mildly annoyed.

He picks you up and sets you on his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“What did she want to talk to you about?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead he just keeps walking down the stairs, making sure to not jostle you too much. Whatever it was must’ve been somewhat bad if he’s not willing to talk about it yet. Maybe he just doesn’t want to bother you with whatever it was.

You take in the construction as you walk, surprised by just how fast the work has been. The whole chateau is almost complete, only missing finishing details and furniture. It’s pretty impressive, and you wonder how everyone managed to get it done. Katakuri and you even have your original room back already, though you aren’t sure where they managed to find all of your belongings. Not that it matters, you have other things to worry about.

Once he sets you down and locks the door, Katakuri sighs. He looks slightly aggravated, and you aren’t entirely sure why. It’s clearly related to whatever his mom wants him to do, but whatever it is can’t be that bad. Not that you have any idea of what she normally asks of him.

“There’s something I need to go do,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll be back in a few days.”

“It’s okay. I was really worried she had scolded and threatened you, so I’m glad you’re just leaving for a little bit.”

You press your hand to your chest in relief. There are far worse things that could’ve been said than having him go do something. At least he’s still safe and still yours.

“I’ll do my best to be quick.” He bends down to look in your eyes. “I promise.”

“I don’t care how long you take, as long as you come back safe.” You press a kiss to his lips. “Promise me you’ll come back safe and sound.”

Katakuri returns your kiss. “I promise to come back to you.”

With that, he leaves. Even though he just left, you find yourself missing him. You push down the idea of running after him and begging him to stay or take you with him. There’s no need to bother him. He’s already promised to come back and that’s more than you could ask for.

[lelanida]

The dualism of Sky. A small essay.

Vincent Diamante, maestro, we don't deserve you. Music is the heart and soul of Sky. It's not the face of the game, no. Music does not try to attract attention and force you to interrupt the gameplay in order to enjoy it. Instead, it works for the atmosphere, not just without overriding everything else but also giving other aspects leadership positions. Sky's music is patiently waiting for you to pay attention to it. And since we're all here, let's appreciate it.

Sky has two main leitmotifs. The first is the theme of our first flight on the Isle of Dawn. It also plays during the loading of the game during the daytime. The second is the "Flight" by Aurora. Not many people pay attention to this, but these two melodies accompany us (in one form or another) in a bunch of other compositions. "The first flight" sounds at moments of special emotional uplift and "Flight" at moments of decline. You may think: "Well, what's the big deal? The music, written at a time when lore was still important, contains an interesting subtext.". But it's not that simple. I listened to the rest of Sky ost. I have tracked the use of these leitmotifs, and I can say with confidence that these two themes never play together. The composition either uses only one of the leitmotifs, or both, but at different ends of the song... ...I was thinking until I listened to the soundtrack of the season of prophecy.

The theme that sounds when you complete the trial. In it, both leitmotifs are woven together.

This is the ONLY theme in the entire game built in this way. I sat in a stupor for a while and was about to bury this musical analysis. But then it hit me. What was the season of prophecy about anyway? No, not about the trials. NO, not about the extra candle cakes. The season of prophecy was about Alef.

The theme of passing the trial is the theme of Alef. And it combines two opposing leitmotivs.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, get ready for madness because this simple detail puts everything in its place.

As soon as I found out about the existence of the Megabird in lore of Sky, this character immediately interested me. I liked how she was essentially detached from the whole action, but at the same time, incredibly tightly woven into it. Megabird is Sky's phenomenon whose potential TGC is afraid to exploit.

I have always been confused by the generally accepted image of a Megabird. She is always portrayed as a powerful, very wise, prudent, and merciful being. The true and only ruler of this world. Everyone was pleased. But not me. And the most important thing is that I couldn't explain why! Something inside me subconsciously resisted the concept of monotheism within the framework of Sky, but there was no specific reason. I had a feeling that it was simply... wrong. And now I realized: This is indeed wrong! Megabird, as the only deity, will actually break the whole system!

Sky is steeped in dualism. It's always one thing against another. I mean:

Life and death.

Nature and machine.

Sky and ground.

Descendants and ancestors.

Children and elders.

Light and darkness.

In this, Sky is different from Journey. In Journey, you didn't have a clear enemy. Journey taught that you can become your own enemy. The ancient civilization destroyed itself, not someone from outside. And the messengers must step over themselves, and themselves only in order to be reborn. Journey taught you to look into yourself. Sky is about something else.

Even though the concepts of these games are similar, Sky is a fundamentally different game. Sky is about joining up with others. Therefore, Sky sets a clear boundary between "we" and "they". And I'm not saying it's a bad thing. Otherwise, this system simply would not have worked. In Sky, everything has an opposing force. The other side of the coin, if you please.

Megabird just can not be the only deity. This contradicts the whole system, starting from philosophy and ending with music. Someone, something, sentient, unsentient, there MUST BE SOMETHING on the other side. That's why I made Angst.

Let's return to the topic of the two leitmotifs and the Alef. The system of confrontation between the two sides can give us an answer to another question.

What is "the void"?

We know that after the explosion of the crystal, Alef fell in a kind of "void", from which he still has not found a way out. But what kind of place is this? Many people used to think that this is something like a dimension of darkness. But I can disagree with this.

At first It is logical: Alef was imprisoned in a darkstone crystal and fell into darkness. But I have a question: Why does this "darkness" charge us?

The void is not darkness. If it was the darkness, it would have extinguished the skykids' cores in the blink of an eye. The void is the place BETWEEN light and darkness.

Alef, the child of light, was imprisoned in a darkstone crystal, the gift of darkness. Together, they created a new, third kind of energy. Chaotic, unpredictable, wrong. Alef has united in himself, things that, according to the laws of this world, cannot be combined. Therefore, it is his theme that connects the two main leitmotivs of the game. The Alef was on both sides at the same time.

But you can't be on two sides. You're either light or dark, or you're not on anyone's side, like ancestors were. At the moment of the Shattering, Alef literally tore the fabric of the Sky universe itself. That's why he got into the void. After all, if he does not obey the fundamental law of this world, then he has nothing to do in this world.

The void is the space between light and darkness. Like a number divided by zero, the void is negligible, but at the same time infinite. It is a mirror that doesn't allow energy to mix. Therefore, the floor in it charges us. The void reflects our own light back into the cape.

That's why the Megabird sends us to die in Eden. With our sacrifice, we repeat the same shattering on a reduced scale and fall into the void to the Alef. But Alef sacrifices a fragment of his former power to bring us back to the side of light. And when that happens, the void just pushes us out.

Something like that.

[luveline]

hi jade! :-) have you written any tasm!peter x pregnant!reader blurbs? (if not, you should write one where he finds out reader is pregnant and is very anxious about it pls pls plssss <3)

hi upon reflection i can't tell if you wanted reader to be anxious or peter so sry if I chose wrong ha!! ty for requesting!! —tasm!peter comforts freshly pregnant!reader when she worries <3 1.6k

You missed your period two weeks ago, and you'd been excited, you and Peter both had, but your pregnancy test gave a negative. It might've been slightly too early at the time to take one, reflecting back. Or maybe you should've taken a more accurate test.

Because it's been two weeks since then, and the pregnancy test in your hand is positive. You got one of the fancy ones after a strange feeling while standing in the pharmacy, staring at different boxes. It's a digital test that cost too much money, and it says loud and proud: Pregnant 3+. 

You're more than three weeks pregnant. If you think about it, you're likely four weeks along, just a week before the heartbeat could begin. 

And of course, you really want to be pregnant, you and Peter are newlywed but long in love, you'd been trying for this and that negative test upset you at the time, but this is a different kind of upset. You're suddenly and deeply worried. Your heart rate starts to climb. 

"Hey?" Peter calls, a room away but hearing so brilliant he may as well have his ear to your chest. He doesn't usually listen to you and especially when you're in the bathroom, but his spidey sense alerts him to stuff like this, panic out of the ordinary, potential danger. "What's wrong?" 

"I think you'll have to come in here," you say gently. 

"Yeah, I'm coming." 

Bedsprings creak. There's a low step up into the ensuite, and you'd left the door open. Within seconds he's standing in the doorway, frowning at you where you're perched on the lip of the bath. 

He sees the pregnancy test, sees your pinched brows, and assumes the wrong thing. "Hey, sweetheart. It's alright. You don't mind trying again, do you?" he asks, teasing lightly. "Sometimes it takes time, you know? You've been trying all those things to make it stick. I read that stressing out can actually prevent–" 

"No, Pete," you say, turning the stick to show him. You smile despite your nerves. 

He takes the test. His hands start to shake, his excitement like a shot of adrenaline, but he looks between the test and your fear and he tries to hide it from you. "You're not happy?" he asks. 

Peter doesn't put down the test. With his empty hand, he takes your face into a warm palm. 

"I– I–" You have the jitters, and your stomach hurts, and everything that was scary about pregnancy didn't seem to matter when you were trying because it was gonna be your baby, his baby. "I don't know what's wrong, I thought I knew how I felt, it's not that I don't want this." 

"Woah…" His hand smooths down to your shoulder. "Can I give you a hug?"

You hurt your arm trying to pull him in, yanking it up weird with the swiftness of it as you grab his back. Peter hugs your head to his abdomen with less force. 

"It's okay," he says, leaning down to kiss your temple. 

"Sorry–" 

"No, don't be! You don't have to feel one way about it, just don't panic. I got you." 

"Not panicking, I just– I'm pregnant." 

"You are," he says, giving you another kiss. He can't seem to hold any of it back then, his grip on you tightening, his kiss turning to a handful. "I love you. I love you so much. I promise whatever it is that's freaking you out is something we can take care of." 

"I want it," you promise. 

"I'm glad," he says, turning your head up, kissing you on the lips. You catch a glance of his glassy eyes. "I'm so happy." 

If Peter thought you weren't pleased about all this you know he'd pull it back, but he's happy enough to calm the anxiety. At least, enough to calm your racing heart. Dread stays at the pit of your stomach next to joy. It's much louder. 

"I think I'm really scared about everything changing," you say, voice like you're being squeezed. 

"Sweetheart." Peter pets your shoulders. "Me and you need to go lie down, I think."

"Where's the test?" you ask. You want to look again, to be sure. 

He takes it from his pocket and passes it back. You have no idea when he put it away. You stare at the tiny digital screen, 3+. 

Peter basically carries you to the bed with his impressive and annoying strength like you don't weigh a thing. He fluffs the pillows, pulls back the sheets, and tucks them over your curled up body with infinite care. "You want something to drink?" 

"I don't want to cry," you say instead of answering, feeling the hot sting of tears as it builds behind your eyes. "I want to be happier, I promise, I am happy." 

Peter sits down next to you. He puts his head next to yours on the pillow, so when he talks, the exhale of his words kisses your face, "You know, I'm like, going crazy right now. I'm so fucking happy I don't think I could explain it to you, I want to be the dad to your baby, I want to live here with you forever and have kids and dogs and sit on the big porch with you at the end of the day while they run around in the grass, but–" He laughs bashfully, his eyes slipping closed as his nose tip touches yours. "But I want what you want, you know? If you're not ready for a baby like you thought, that's not a crime. We can wait. I can wait as long as you need me to." 

"No… Peter, I do, I'm just– I'm pregnant." You said that already, but you failed to explain. You try again. "I'm worried about being pregnant, I– I already feel sick. That's why I went to get the test, and I'm scared of how hard this is going to be. I still want this, though. I swear, I want it." 

"You don't have to worry," he says, though he opens his eyes, and leans back. "I know it's going to be really hard and that there's gonna be moments where you feel like shit and want it to be over, but I'm gonna be with you that entire time. I'll do literally anything you need or want me to do. I'll stand on my head," —you start to cry, rare and fat tears— "I'll make this as easy as possible on you. If worrying about how hard it is is what's stopping you from being excited, then you can put all that weight on me. Trust me to worry about it for you." 

He wipes your cheeks with his hand, index finger ghosting the delicate skin under your eye. 

"You promise you're gonna look after me?" you ask, already knowing the answer. 

"I swear on my life." He doesn't seem offended that you need reassurance, hugging you, his hand sliding up and down your side and nudging your shirt with each stroke. 

"Okay," you say, taking a deep breath. "Okay." 

The excitement comes slowly at first like a puncture, but it weasels out, and you rub your eyes with a wet sounding laugh. 

"Happy?" he asks. 

You laugh louder. "Really happy, Pete." 

He laughs with you and hugs you flush to his front, your stomachs touching, your hearts separated by fat, muscle, and little else. He hugs you so hard you swear you can feel his heartbeat. 

"Whoo!" he shouts, your loser. Ecstatic. "Shit, baby, you're gonna have a baby!"

"We," you amend. 

"Yes, we!" he agrees, pulling away, taking your face into his hand as he had but with half the concern and twice the excitement. "This is awesome. Let me give you the world's biggest kiss and then we'll go celebrate, okay? We'll have a really great dinner and I'm gonna treat you to whatever you want, alright? Some pyjamas from Uniqlo." He beams as he adds, "We need to go to the pharmacy. You need prenatal vitamins." 

"Forget vitamins. We're gonna have to stop eating take out every Friday," you say. 

"Do we really need to?" he asks, playfully whining. 

"Maybe. I'm definitely gonna need to eat more salad. And the vitamins might be a good idea, actually." 

Peter smiles. He kisses you rather gently considering what he promised, not the world's biggest but maybe the world's most loving. He pulls away, kisses you again like he can't help it. He does that twice, before crawling backward off of the bed to find you both clothes to wear. 

"Come on, my pregnant sweetheart. You're finally eating for two, maybe you'll actually be able to keep up with me now." 

You giggle and wipe the last of your worried tears away. "Sure, if I were having octuplets." 

"We'll find out," he says, tossing a pair of pants at your feet. "Come on! Or… take your time. I guess I have to get used to you being slow." 

"I'm not that pregnant."  

Peter leaps across the sheets to give you another kiss. You shriek with laughter, kissed until your cheeks are aflame and you're a thousand times more happy than you are anxious. 

[xitsensunmoon]

Biting the Hand That Feeds au FAQ (Vampires + donor au)

Any general content warnings for bhtf au?

Yes. A normal amount of fnaf warnings, a normal amount of vampire warnings. For someone who doesn't know I elaborate... For vampire stuff, the most obvious ones are blood, hypnosis, bites, and animalistic behaviour. Less obvious - slightly suggestive themes. For fnaf - fnaf's usual violence, dark themes, a drop of gore and murders. The lore is uh. Very dark. I will try to decrease the amount of all of the cruelty but man. People who know, know how hard it will be. But I will tag everything properly so don't worry.

Is there a fic for your au?

No. And currently, I'm not even planning on writing one.

How do I find the story?

For now, we have two comics that are directly connected and one that doesn't have a specific place in the story but is about canonical lore.

[ 1 ] - [ 2 ] - [ x ]

In future, we will have more and I probably absolutely will forget to update this post so I recommend checking the tags. Here's the tag list

Tip: don't click the tag. Tumblr hides half of the results. Type it in the blog's search instead :)

Are the comics the only canonical thing about au?

No! I answer asks and draw a lot of doodles with bhtf au all the time and 90% of them are canon. You can, yet again, find everything in the tag list linked in the previous question.

Can I draw/write fan stuff for your au?

Yes, please!! I'm always happy to see fanart and fan writings and literally everything that you do! Just tag me when you post and use a fanart or fanwriting tag for au specifically so I don't miss it!

Can you include my characters in your story?

No, unfortunately, I cannot. The story is already written and I don't have any "space" for background characters either. Maybe it will change but currently, things are like this.

I asked a question with an interaction with my characters and I never got an answer, why?

I don't accept such requests. I'm not ready to spend my time drawing other people's characters for free(if I personally don't want to, of course)

Is there any limit to how many questions I can ask?

No, not at all! You can ask all you want just please make sure your question wasn't answered before. There is a big possibility I will just simply delete it if it was answered beforehand many times. Check the ask tag for it.

What about limitations? Any boundaries?

Please no questions about tickling🧍‍♀️ I got so many of those it already makes me uncomfortable. And for some reason, a lot of people send asks that include violence towards my characters and while I don't really feel uncomfortable with this I just idk what to answer and why are you even doing this lmao

What questions I should avoid?

Well, not really avoid but I will mention it anyway.

The things I have planned to draw right now:

- Sun and Moon and y/n's first meeting

- The creation of Sun&Moon

- Why S&M are sensitive to light and darkness

- How they hunt

So no need to ask me about these. I will show it, I promise.

What about sexual themes?

I understand that I post a lot of suggestive stuff and it may appear I allow such a thing but no.

You can create content with it tho, I don't mind for the most part. Just be ready that I may not reblog it, as my Tumblr is a SFW place. It's always 50/50.

Romantic themes?

I do draw some kisses and cuddles when I feel like it and you of course can send ideas for cute interactions but in the story we're very far away from it lol.

My question gets ignored even though I followed everything that you mentioned here. Why?

Answered in main FAQ.

Can I share the ideas for your au with you?

YES!!! Yes, yes and yes! I'm very open to that, like yes! The only thing that I definitely want to mention - you should expect that I actually can take your ideas and use them. Some people are protective of their ideas so if you're like this you probably should not share them with me :)

The information that you're using for your au is wrong.

Happens sometimes yeah. I know nothing about any medical stuff for y/n so I usually improvise. After all it's an au about robotic vampires man, this information is absolutely wrong. But! You're free to drop feedback/constructive criticism in my inbox!

Will be updated later

[iiotic]

TWO WRONGS, DONT MAKE IT RIGHT, AFTERALL

summary: your relationship with wanderer is complicated, friends? friends with benefits? partners? enemies? definitely not the last one, yet you don't know the answer to that question.

tw: modern au, female reader, swearing, suggestive, ooc wanderer?? sexual topics, wanderer is taller than you, not proff read, lowercase intended, poorly written, cringe, if you'll find more please tell me!! MDNI | wc: 1.4k

"what are we?" the question hovers your mind hundreds and thousands times already, yet none of you two are brave enough to ask about it. pheraps in wanderers case its his pride?

instead, you just keep everything.. flowing. one time, he'll be as sweet as sugar and the next day he's as cold as ice. it's not the first time you bumped into him him with another woman and its not the first time he caught you flirting with another man.

one day, you're sitting in a cafe across the street from the university. you took a deep breath, scrolling through the social media mindlessly with your head in the clouds as you were lost in your thoughts. until a tall male took a seat infront of you.

a very known tall male with his signature dark blue hair and violet eyes, wearing a black shirt with some sweatpants for today.

"hello there" he greeted you, teasingly.

you looked up at him from your phone, an unpleasant expression formed on your face as you remembered the events that accured last night. as you were coming back from the local library you found him and some random chick making out in an alley way.

you obviously didn't care, why would you? its not any of your business who he fucks. you grumbled a greeting before looking back at your phone again, hoping that he can leave as soon as possible.

he gave you a subtle smile, while scanning your face. you were so lost in your thoughts, staring at your phone, that he was able to take a good look at you without disturbance.

"what's up with that face?" he asked, leaning his back on the chair.

"what's up with you."

his stupid signature smirk formed on his lips. you know him as well as he did with you. he knows your mood. he knows the possibility of whats bugging you inside, and him seeing you frown and pout like this, clearly means something is irritating you. however he decided not to push it.

"nothing much. just thought i'd stop by here." he responded casually. "and see you."

"why don't you stop by somewhere else where your woman is."

"i dont have a woman." he almost chuckled at your sassy remarks. "though, i do have a date in 30 minutes." he answered bluntly, giving you a glance before focusing his attention on the waitress.

he didn't look like he was going on a date, more like going to dig trash to find something to eat, but then not finding anything and starving to death.

"even better, how many woman have you seen this month.." you said, it was clearly a rhetorical question. you opened your mouth to say something but a waitress cut you off.

"may i take your order?" you looked at wanderer who seemed deep in thoughts before starting ordering a bunch of things. he stopped and then the waitress turned to you, you quickly dismissed her saying that you don't want anything. she looked confused at first as she thought you guys were on a date but walked away not questioning anything anyway.

"i thought you were going on a date in 30 minutes, why are you ordering so much, hell, why are you ordering anything at all?" you questioned him, clearly irritated by his doing and his presence here.

"i am." he answered bluntly, once again. not adding anything not even looking at you anymore.

the awkward silence accured, nor you nor wanderer saying anything to break it. 15 minutes passed and the food was put on your table, that you booked for yourself tonight, that you were supposed to enjoy alone.

"say, are you jealous that im going on a date?" he said finally breaking the silence, yet at the same time offending you.

"excuse me? i feel bad for all of the hearts that you've broken, these poor woman.." you said defending yourself and feeling pity for all of the females he hooked up with then just leave them feeling worthless, you glared at him as he started laughing, clearly not taking you seriously.

"please, they all know better that im not exactly into commitment. they know im not worth breaking their hearts. they just want to enjoy the ride, one night and nothing more."

"well, have fun with your new date." you said standing up and heading to the door. you heard enough from him, you had enough of him. you didn't care about him nor his sex life, then why did your eyes watered as you waddled to the exit?

"dont be so cold like that, im hurt!" he yelled, chuckling. that were the last words you heard from him before leaving the building.

why did the truth hurt? why did you care? why were you crying right now? your making messed up as you waited for your taxi to your apartment. yet deep down you knew that you're just as bad as he is, just as terrible as his actions; you thought as you rode the taxi driver, desperately needing a stress reliever.

the morning after yesterdays incident of bumping into eachother, you found yourself in bed with another man. was it the taxi driver? you thought, before leading him to the front door in only his boxers. the answer was positive. you kicked him iut of the house, before seeing that there's a package in front of your front door that he almost stepped on.

quickly picking it up and closing the door behind you, ignoring the taxis driver screams. you walked into your kitchen, looking for the scissors to open it. the package was medium size, not too small yet big enough to fit a cat.

you slowly, precisely opened the package not knowing whats inside. it didn't have a label on it, it could've been a bomb but you were met with a small box with a muffin from the cafe you were at yesterday, it was your favourite in fact and an small piece of paper that had something written on it.

"read your messages"

thats it? nothing more? just read your messages? you pulled out your phone to find 8 unread messages from kuni, 7 of the first ones were deleted, the latest one saying "sorry ig"

it was so stupid. then why did you caught yourself smiling at the sight? maybe you'll forgive him or maybe you've already forgave him.

if you were so mad at him then why did you talk with him the entire evening?

© 2024 iiotic. — do not steal, translate or repost any of my content onto any other platform

this is so cringe, might delete it later

[extremely-judgemental]

Subtext is completely lost in this fandom. I partly blame SJM for it. This is a rant from both reading and writing standpoint and leans towards the characters since I like to psychoanalyse them.

The one thing that tired me the most in these books is the excessive narration. I don’t mean the wordy description to support world-building but the never-ending monologues. SJM takes ‘show, don’t tell’ advice literally with the visual cues when it should apply to the characters and their personalities as well. Where subtext usually exposes depth of these characters and lets you decide who they are, SJM strips away that chance by writing it down for you word by word. The reason so many are going with 'in the book' argument is exactly this.

Here’s what I mean.

In real life, people don’t think linearly. They have an idea about themselves as much as they have about everyone else around them. There are self-imposed restrictions on their thoughts based on who they believe to be and who they strive to be. And it shows in their interaction with outside world. Say, when someone is ashamed of their actions, they will deny it for as long as possible. Someone who regrets something, they will sugarcoat it.

But in her books, her characters think clearly—way too clearly so that you latch onto the ideas she perpetuates. You don’t get to know them based on their thoughts, words, and actions, and see how these three support each other. You don't get a chance to draw conclusions as to if they are the hero/villain and good/evil based on their actions. If their behaviours match their words or if their choices are acceptable. Because SJM sets it in words for you. The characters come with a label beforehand. (Feyre, Rhysand and Inner Circle are good guys. Tamlin, Eris and Nesta, sometimes Lucien are evil.) It's why so many toxic and abusive themes are dismissed because it’s the 'good guy' or the 'morally grey guy’ who does it.

And so, her lead or ‘good’ characters fall flat since they have everything figured out. They know themselves inside out. They are never wrong about themselves, there’s no part they hide from themselves or the others. There’s nothing for you to read and identify the beauty or ugliness in the character. There’s no depth in them because they don’t contradict themselves, they don’t struggle to be someone they always believed to be. They don’t have to prove anything to themselves or others. They say what they think and they do what they say. They are very aware of their shortcomings and they all seem to know the exact consequences of their decisions.

Feyre doesn’t change in the three books. Her ‘rags to riches’ story doesn’t lead to much character growth. She starts out as an adamant, reckless child and ends up being arrogant, reckless woman with a crown. She doesn’t undergo a shift in personality but climbs up the social hierarchy. And that’s considered character development. Rhysand remains the same throughout. He starts out as a villain but later revealed as a good guy playing bad. Instead of growing into a hero—given his crimes, his ill deeds are negated with sympathetic backstory. And from there, it’s a flat line. There’s no growth.

In the end how does the character change in the aftermath of the events? Which of their beliefs are shattered and rebuilt? What is the emotional impact on the other characters? SJM does offer some closure on these regards but they are solely focused on a list of traumas and specific reactions set by SJM herself. And so readers refuse to think for themselves how these scenarios may play out and take the words relayed through the unreliable narrators who are essentially preaching SJM’s biases. Also, when they are so explicitly written down, there’s not much room for subtext. After going through pages and pages of justification, it tires you from using reason.

Even if we get past this (writing) flaw, there are other major issues. Story telling is a way of experiencing life. It helps build empathy, compassion and understanding of the world. Even in a fantasy book, when that world doesn’t exist, when the characters aren’t real, their journey are drawn from real life experiences. Relating to these characters is subjective and solely depends on the reader, but determining the rightness of their actions is not. This too is warped as SJM dictates which behaviour is acceptable and how far through her lead characters(Feyre vs Nesta imprisonment). Instead of allowing you to judge the choices, the verdict is spoon-fed through the ‘hero’. If the characters are forgiven, it’s not abuse. It’s a simple mistake. (It’s a mistake if it happens once and if there’s a changed behaviour after the apology.) If the characters are happy in the end, their acts are admissible. Unless SJM stamps the word ‘abuser’ and ‘bad guy’ in block letters herself(Tamlin), it's not even considered a possibility.

In short, ‘reading between the lines’ exists as long as it supports what the author preaches. When it contradicts ‘it’s in the books’. Logic is valid only if you use it to justify the fan favourites and applaud them. Empathy is conditional. Compassion is conditional. Critical thinking is so discouraged in this fandom that it’s pitiful.

[a-book-of-creatures]

What notable books (or author) on folklore and/or mythology would you consider to have reliable info, and which ones definitely don't? It's a broad ask, but what are the first names that come to mind?

Very good ask! I'll try to see if I can put my thoughts in words, but if you need any further examples or evaluations let me know.

Here's a general rule: primary sources are Good. Books that directly reference primary sources are Good. The more distance between a book and the primary source, the less reliable it gets. Always ask yourself, where is this book getting its information from? How does it present this information? If you're not dealing with primary sources, always check to see how information is presented and where possible errors could creep in.

For example...

Books like these are the gold standard for reliability. If I was handing out ratings, they would score a perfect 5 out of 5. Everything is extensively cited (the second book is practically all citations). You can't go wrong with these.

In general the more specialized a book is, the more reliable it is. So the excellent Meeting With Monsters gets a very respectable 4.5 out of 5. Very detailed info just about Icelandic monsters. Why not 5? The authors engage in some speculative creature building where they treat the monsters as real animals and invent features for them (the hrosshvalur has dorsal spines teeming with bacteria that infect the wounds it causes, for instance). But these are restricted to marginal notes and do not interfere with the actual information.

More general books generally get less reliable. Again, ask, where are those sources? What are they?

This one is often held up as the encyclopedia of mythical creatures currently in print. It's a decent starting point to start looking for things. It has sources and each entry is linked to its sources. The entries are written in a dry, concise encyclopedic style. But it relies far too much on second and third (and fourth, etc) hand sources. Scratch a little past the surface and you start finding weird mistakes, errors, inaccuracies. Snowballing misinformation. I would consider this to be of average reliability at best. A 2.5 out of 5 or so. Best used as a suggestion to dig into deeper, better things.

This one is a broad introduction to dragons, but instead of an encyclopedia, each "entry" (chapter?) is presented as a retelling of that story. And with that comes very low reliability and heavy use of secondary sources. The retellings make stuff up that isn't anywhere in the originals and miss a lot of the point of the stories - and spread misinformation that continues to propagate online. Also there's plenty of cryptozoology in there so eeehhhh.

This one is obviously aimed at a younger audience, but I'm mentioning it because of one amusing detail. It seems to be a good introduction for children to dragon mythology. Except it presents with a straight face the marsupial dragon as a dragon from Australia. The marsupial dragon, you know, which was written into Dragonology as a joke? And Dragonology wouldn't even have made my primary-source-reliability anyway! Some due-diligence was not duly diligenced, if I may say so.

Then there are books that are just... confusing.

Like anything by Pierre Dubois. On the surface they seem well-researched. But the references and cross-references are more opaque than... uh... a very opaque thing. He clearly has a lot of them, but it's anyone's guess where the information he got came from (no cross-referencing, you see). Combine that with him just making stuff up to pad page numbers and it's never clear what is "true" and what he wrote (and some of it is distasteful, not going to lie). Sometimes he even misses the interesting part of legends just to write his own stories. The most charitable take is that this is literary fantasy, and maybe what he's said can be traced to actual reliable folkloric sources, but after having used him as a source of information I cannot recommend him. You could also argue that Dubois never does claim that this is a scholarly reference, but it sure is presented as one.

I have so far restricted myself to books that claim (or seem to claim) to be references on myth, legend, and folklore. Books that engage in speculative "creature building" (e.g. Dragonology, The Flight of Dragons, etc) would not be reliable as references, but they're still great books. You just wouldn't use them as sources of information.

... or would you? Sometimes non-reference books get treated as such, and then the information they made up gets reified by being parroted uncritically by later books. Like Woodruff's book above. A fake "long-lost expedition journal" by Pliny the Elder, it's an excuse for (gorgeous) art and Latin practice. Except that some of the made-up stuff in there found its way out of the book and - uncited - ended up in supposedly serious works. Like the Pyrallis being a dragon, or the two-headed Hyperborean frogs. Confusing. It even got a minor news mention because people were taking it seriously!

Anyway, how about you? Any books you find reliable or unreliable?

[stellocchia]

As much as I love the concept of Blue joining Nightmare's gang and getting some healing with them (and I really do, I'm writing the longest fic I've ever written about it) a concept I've been mulling over is that of Stretch joining them in a more canon-adjacent setting.

Like, okay, hear me out, Stretch is the one Papyrus who in most versions of the Multiverse story gets left behind willingly by Blue. Like, sure, there is Underverse where the dude just dies, and that one comic about Blue getting kidnapped by Error, but most of the time not much thought is put into Blue joining the Star Sanses. He just did. And, with the Star Sanses being a mostly positive force, I doubt it was in any way against his will.

He most likely wanted to help out because, well, he's an Underswap Sans, and the Star Sanses offered him a great opportunity for that. Canonically, Blue was always rather social, even in his original universe, but he still wasn't as accomplished as he might have wished. So more so than fame, glory was his other biggest incentive.

Anyway, ramblings about Blue aside, Stretch was left there in his world. Now he's suddenly forced to deal with the resets alone. My guy was already an apathetic nihilist with not that many friends when it all started, going through all of this alone is only gonna worsen that.

I don't think he'd ever admit that he resents his brother for leaving. His brother could never do anything wrong in his eyes. He would try to make him regret it though. Not consciously, of course, and it would start small. Things like: purposefully messing up their story by just not showing up in front of the human, or by letting himself be killed first right after the drop, or even by having the fight going on for an impossibly long time by having his first attack be nothing.

But as none of that seems to work (Blue is not coming back, he's busy saving universes and fighting bad guys) he would get desperate.

I imagine this is where his joining the Bad Sanses would come in. Here's how the sequence of events would play out:

He becomes disillusioned > Starts working on the machine in the basement again to pass the time > Gains access to the Multiverse > Finds out about the group his brother is fighting after going on a few adventures > Joins the group

His joining the group is definitely to spite his brother, but he'd never admit that out loud. It is also a monumentally idiotic idea because every moral he's ever had is strictly against everything that Nightmare gets up to. Unfortunately, by this point, he's sufficiently apathetic to be just morally flexible enough for this to work. After all, he can promise himself that he will not hurt any monsters and will instead just focus on fighting the Star Sanses. The guilt from just letting it happen is still eating at him, but he reasons that he has no other choice (of course he does. But the other choice was to let himself rot back at home in a hopeless timeline and, while it would have been a noble sacrifice, it is not one he's willing to make).

Nightmare on his side, sees the benefit of having a Papyrus on board. He's gonna keep Horror and Dust in line and loyal far more effectively than threats would. After all, he may not look entirely like their brothers, but he's still similar enough to work for emotional blackmail purposes.

It's not gonna go over as well with Killer who definitely tries to kill him at first. A bunch of times. And almost succeeds every time. But Stretch is not there for him, so Nightmare pays it little mind. Stretch is there to keep Killer's attachments from leaving or betraying them, and he's gonna get over it eventually. Possibly. (Killer is not so sure he will because fuck Nightmare and his new toy. He will stop the murder attempts though because everything in his body and soul is against defying a very direct order from the Boss).

Stretch doesn't like any of his teammates at first. He, rather hypocritically, sees them as true monsters for what they've done in their home AUs and for what they keep doing under Nightmare.

Needless to say, the atmosphere at the castle is tense for months with none of these fuckers talking any more than strictly necessary. Even on the battlefield, as they're facing off against the Star Sanses, all the bad guys are suspiciously quiet. Stretch doesn't even have the energy or clarity of mind to answer his brother's questions and pleas to go with him and put an end to the senseless violence. (He also doesn't want to answer because he's still upset and doesn't trust him. Though he will not admit that to himself. He's still in denial about that being the reason he joined Nightmare's gang. My guy is getting through life with the sheer power of denial and emotional repression and it's going horribly for him).

The tension comes to a head eventually when Killer makes a snide remark too many about Stretch's hypocrisy and Stretch punches him square in the face. It's not the most conventional bonding method, but it works for those two. He is still a hypocrite in Killer's mind, but at least he's not a coward and that's good enough for him. Everyone at that castle is hypocritical af anyway, he's not gonna judge. Well, he will, but no more than he judges Horror and Dust for their own little quirks.

From there, Stretch starts to learn a bit more about his teammates. They let him into their little circle of trust, and he learns how to help them take care of themselves. They learn what he needs too (probably some antidepressants) and help him as best as they can. And he notices, for the first time, that Nightmare is very much not in their little bubble. He's one of the threats to it. And, well, there's not much he can do about it at this point, but he vows to help them as much as he can. And he vows not to abandon them like he was. And there is still denial there about how hurt he was by his brother's abandonment and what a Hell it is to live in the castle, but that promise to himself is the first reason he's found to keep going that he's willing to admit to. And that's good enough for now