#dear god my handwriting was terrible

[metamatronic]

some of the old cast! it’s kinda crazy looking back at my old BATIM art, ngl. but it’s nice to see that i’ve improved!

[thus-spoke-lo]

Dear Diary || Sanji x f!reader || NSFW [minors DNI]

CW: afab!reader (no pronouns used to describe reader), reader wears a skirt, masturbation (m), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, creampie

WC: 3.6k

Read on AO3

It was an accident. 

Or at the very least, that’s the story Sanji had hastily prepared as he sat perched on the edge of your bed, your diary held tightly in his grasp. 

It was an accident, he’d say if anyone wandered in while he perused its pages—it had fallen on the floor and he was merely trying to find out who it belonged to, that’s why it was splayed open in his hand. Really, you see, it was completely innocent. 

But Sanji already knew it was yours, having seen you with it on the deck, ardently scribbling away day after day. He could never quite get close enough or squint hard enough to see exactly what you were writing, but you certainly seemed alarmed when you’d catch him meandering by, quickly shutting the little blue book and squirreling it away in your knapsack before he could ever get near. 

And now here it was in his perspiration-slick hands. He wondered what he’d find, if it was even worth it to sneak into your room, carefully closing the door behind him, just to get a glimpse at the thoughts that pirouetted through your gorgeous mind. 

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before cracking open the little blue book, quickly looking over the pages for any mention of him: A recipe for medical ointment and a quick story about helping Chopper with a project. A sloppily-drawn chart and notes about a conversation with Nami. Musings on something Luffy said at dinner. 

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” he muttered as he flipped through more pages, seeing line after line of casual observations and droll anecdotes. He was, of course, deeply and truly interested in your reflections on life with the crew, and would delightedly read just about anything you had written with your precious hands, but he didn’t have the time to peruse every paragraph. He was unsure of precisely when you’d be back with the rest of the crew, and his only goal was to find even the smallest talk of him in your handwriting—it would be enough just to see his name scrawled in these pages, enough to see that you even deigned to give him any mention at all. 

He scanned page after page until finally—there it was. His name, in your writing. 

He paused before he continued, taking in a shaky breath, wondering if he should read on, fearing the worst but his heart yearning for the best. 

Sanji, you’d written, Sanji, Sanji, Sanji. Sat in the galley to watch him cook today. He didn’t seem to mind me there, and he was humming some song I didn’t know. He let me taste the soup he was making, and told me I was perfect because of my “refined palate.” What a man, haha. 

He grinned as he continued to read: 

I'm glad he doesn’t mind me hanging around him, I could watch him for hours. His hands are so elegant.

I know it’s terrible, but sometimes I wonder what those hands would feel like on me.

Sanji stopped, using his thumb to hold his place as he set the diary down in his lap, his heart thrumming in his chest. He shouldn’t keep reading, he tried to tell himself—he got what he wanted, confirmation that he at least occasionally swirled around in your mind like a ship caught in a whirlpool, and that should be the end of it.

Right?

“Okay. Just a little more,” he uttered as he opened the book again, his eyes drifting back to where he’d left off. “A little more won’t hurt.”

God I bet his hands are so soft. I bet they’d feel so nice on my skin. Running down my arms. Tickling my neck. He’d know just how to hold me, touch me carefully, so he doesn’t hurt me, just make me feel good.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath as he flipped the page to the next entry. More about him.

Sanji made me tea today and brought it to me in my room. Ugh, he’s so fucking handsome. Hard not to tell him to set the tea down and give me something else hot. I bet he would, too. I bet all I’d have to do is ask and he’d have me bent over my bed, moaning his name. 

He slid his hand down to the front of his pants, palming the growing hardness that strained against the fabric. God he wanted you, and there was a painful desire roiling inside him knowing you wanted him too. And you were right, he thought as he throbbed under his hand—all it would take is one look, one pout, one soft “Please, Sanji?” and he would have you undressed in a heartbeat, writhing under him as he filled you to the hilt with every throbbing inch of him.

His hands, his hands, I’m telling you. I want him to finger me so bad. Maybe under the table while we’re having dinner. Just slide his hand up my skirt, push my panties to the side, start teasing my clit. Maybe he’d whisper in my ear that I’d need to keep quiet so no one would know. I’d just have to wriggle in my seat while he uses his fingers to tease me, and grip his leg to keep myself from screaming. 

“This is wrong,” he whispered, the words hitching in his throat. “This is so wrong.”

It was as if you could read his mind, he thought as he closed his eyes for a moment, grinding into his palm. How many times had he thought about placing a hand on your leg as you sat next to him at dinner, running his fingers up and up and up your velvety skin to the apex of your thighs, placing his palm against your heated cunt. He wanted to tease you through your panties, press his fingers against your clit through the silken fabric, making soft circles over it until you started to squirm in your chair and quietly beg him to stop. But begging, no matter how sweet and polite, would do you no good; no, if you loved his hands so much, then he was going to make you come on them. You’d have to sit there and be good and still and smile and laugh like nothing was wrong while he shoved his long fingers inside of you and pumped them in and out until you clenched and fluttered around them, leaving him a drenched and slippery mess. He wondered how flustered you’d become as he dragged his soaked fingers out of you and across your bare thigh, wondered if you’d look at him with your exquisite eyes, blinking away the tears of pleasure forming at your lash line, as you tried to keep yourself from falling apart in front of everyone.

He paused for a moment, listening closely for any commotion on the ship; there was only the sound of blood rushing in his ears. He quickly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, freeing his hardening cock and sighing as he felt the cool air of your room on his burning hot skin. He gripped himself gently, delicately—like he imagined you might with your soft, perfect hands—as he continued to read. 

I just need him. I need his cock in me. I’m sure he’d fuck me, but really want him to want to fuck me, you know? Not just because I’m another pretty face. I want him to want to fuck me, to need to fuck me. 

Sanji groaned as he read, his hand slowly working up and down his shaft, using his thumb to gather the sticky precum dripping from the head as he did, pretending it was your luscious slick coating the length of him. Oh and how he did want to fuck you, and he did need to fuck you. Not because you were just any lovely thing with a gorgeous face—he wanted you, every last bit of you. He wanted to taste the salt of your skin, and inhale your intoxicating scent, and feel every part of you crash into him like waves; he wanted to consume you, to have every part of you to himself, to wrap himself around you and bury himself inside of you until you were practically one.

I want him to shove his cock in me, and tell me what a perfect little slut I am for him and only him. I want him to kiss my neck while he’s thrusting into me, long and slow strokes, and tell me how beautiful I am with his cock deep inside me. I want him to lose control of himself and feel him slam into me nice and hard, and hear how he moans when he finally fills me up wi—

“Sanji!”

He quickly slammed the diary shut and threw his hands over his lap, trying to cover the glaring evidence of his arousal; he glanced up to see you standing in the doorway, mouth agape, eyebrows raised to the heavens. 

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” you asked, eyes wide, your eyes drifting down to his lap. 

“Oh, I was—well you see—so here’s the thing my dear—” Sanji stammered and stuttered, his perfectly crafted excuse slowly unraveling in his mind like an old sweater as you placed your hands on your hips—your luscious, grabbable hips, perfectly draped in a black skirt—and dragged your teeth across your lower lip impatiently. How is it that you could look so deeply and fiercely irresistible even when you clearly wanted to throttle him? How is it that his cock still throbbed even when you were probably ten seconds away from killing him where he sat?

You quickly closed the gap between you and stood before him and the end of the bed. 

“Give me that,” you spat as you snatched your diary out of his hand. “What were you doing with this?”

“My darling, please, I only wanted to—well I just—”

“You just what?”

He tried to find an answer for you, one that might make him appear even the least bit less debased and depraved than he must have seemed to you just then, but he was coming up woefully short.

“I just wanted to know,” he finally sputtered after a beat. 

“And what did you want to know, Sanji?” you asked, drawing out his name teasingly. 

He shifted, trying ever more desperately to hide his unyielding hardness from your gaze. “I just wanted to know if you ever thought about me.”

“How so?” you smirked. 

He swallowed hard, his mouth dry, the words sticking together in his throat as he tried to say them. “I wanted to know if you ever thought about me and you. Together.”

“Together?”

“My sweet, please don’t make me say it.”

“Aw come on,” you pouted. “Please?”

“I wanted to know if you ever thought about fucking me!” he exclaimed, his eyes clenched shut as the words burst forth from his lips. “There. Are you happy?”

“Oh Sanji,” you sighed, tilting your head to one side. You leaned forward and placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back onto the bed. He let his hands drift away from his pulsating cock, and you gasped a little at the sight of it, the head swollen and glistening with his arousal. You smiled and bit your lip as you straddled him, carefully placing your soft thighs on either side of his, too needy to bother even asking him to disrobe; Sanji felt his heart nearly crawl into his throat as he could feel the radiating warmth of your cunt, covered only in thin cotton panties, come to rest against his twitching cock. 

He choked out a gasp as you slowly started to grind against him, and he could feel the outline of your pussy lips through the soft fabric that barely covered them. You lowered your body onto him, your face hovering close to his, and moaned softly in his ear as you urgently pressed yourself into his lap; the sound you made, so melodic, so filled with yearning, made Sanji buck his hips up into you almost on instinct. He reached up and sunk his fingers into your plush hips, guiding your motions up and down his length, as he felt the precum that leaked out of his pulsing head start to coat your inner thigh. 

“Sanji, Sanji, Sanji,” you murmured, your lips so close to his he could almost taste your lusciousness. “If you wanted to know all the things I think about you—all the filthy, dirty things I think about when I lay in bed at night—why didn’t you just ask?”

Before he could answer, before words could even take form inside the lust-filled fog in his mind, your lips were engulfing his in a warm, honeyed kiss. He moaned into your mouth and parted your lips with his tongue, hungry and wanting to taste every bit of your deliciousness; it was better than he’d ever imagined, better than he could have dreamed, to have your pillowy lips against his, your tongues dancing. As he fed from the sweetness of your mouth, you reached down and pulled your panties to the side. You grasped his cock and dragged the head along the slickness of your pussy lips, as he groaned your name into the stillness of the room.

“Do you want me, Sanji?” you asked as you slid him past your lips, letting him feel your entrance pulse against his agonizingly sensitive tip, keeping the warmth of your wet walls just out of reach until he told you what you so badly need to hear.

“Yes, god yes, my sweet,” he answered frantically, his fingers grasping at your hips, trying to pull you down onto him, as he buried his face on your neck, his tongue tracing lines up and down your skin, his lips trying to kiss every inch of you that he could reach.

“How bad?” you continued, as you squeezed his cock, feeling it swell in your palm.

“I want you so much,” he whimpered, as his hips thrusted weakly upwards into your hand, so agonizingly close to being inside of you that he could practically feel your warmth surrounding his aching cock.  “I want all of you, every last beautiful bit of you. Now won’t you let me feel you, please?”

“Lay back,” you whispered, a drowsy smile on your lips, as you ran your fingertips down the sharp lines of his jaw. He reclined back onto the bed, and watched your eyes flutter shut and your mouth go slack as you lowered yourself onto him, and took his length into your waiting cunt.

Sanji gasped deliriously at the feeling, and the sounds of his bliss echoed in the room. You were better than he ever could have thought you’d be, better than he’d ever fantasized at night when he’d fuck his fist and wish so desperately it was you. Your velvet-soft pussy gripped him as you gyrated in soft, slow circles, and he slowly thrust up into you, matching your motions. He felt a deliriousness wash over him as he listened to you sigh his name over and over again, like a song he wanted to listen to forever, and he relished the weight of your body pressing into him as you placed your hands on his chest and took your pleasure from him.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he marveled, as his hands drifted upwards from your hips, exploring the expanse of your form.

“What, with your cock inside me?” you smiled.

“Exactly,” he grinned, his fingers tracing over every dip and curve of your body.

He reached under your shirt and caressed the contours of your breasts, gently kneading them in his palms. He brushed a thumb over your hardened nipple, and felt your pussy flutter around him as you whimpered in the most delectable way.

“Sanji,” you whispered as you rode him, your voice soft and wanting, “will you touch me? Make me come?”

“Yes, my darling,” he panted, running a hand down your body and slowly sliding it down your thigh. “Anything you want, anything you need.”

He pulled the dampened fabric of your panties to the side, spreading your puffy lips apart with his fingers, and found your swollen, tender clit with little effort. He tentatively pressed against it with the pad of his thumb and a needy moan escaped you; he made gentle circles over it, trying to match the speed of your gyrations.

“Like this, my dear?” he asked, his gaze fixed on you, watching every glorious expression you made as he set your core ablaze with his touch.

“Yes,” you answered through ragged gasps, “just like that. Just like that.”

“Good,” he panted as your breaths quickened and your motions began to slow as you focused on his ministrations. “That’s it, sweetheart, take what you need from me.”

He felt himself harder than he’d ever been, aching so much inside of you, as he started to feel you flutter around him.

“Sanji, I’m so close,” you keened. “Just don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

“Never, my dearest,” he said, desperate. “Not until you come for me.”

“Oh Sanji,” you cried, your eyes clenching shut, “Sanji I’m gonna���”

Your words were cut short by a sharp cry as you clenched tightly around him, your walls spasming as you cried out for him, your shaking thighs pressed tightly to his and your hands gripping frantically at his shirt. He was stricken wordless by the splendor of seeing you abandon yourself to pleasure, watching you convulse unabashedly and utter some of the most exquisite moans he had ever heard.

“Why don’t you let me do the rest of the work, gorgeous?” he uttered softly, as you doubled over and rested your head on his chest, your breaths emerging in stutters and gasps.

You nodded, only able to muster a weak “Mm-hmm,” and he gathered you up and helped you lay back onto the bed. He stood up, quickly undressing, overcome with an insatiable need to bury himself inside you again as quickly as possible. As he lowered his trousers, he noticed the fly and waistband of them were drenched, your juices coating the stiff fabric; he felt his heart skip a beat at knowing he made you do that, that he made you come apart for him and soak his clothes in your wetness.

He stood at the end of the bed as he stripped his shirt off, and took in the sight before him: your body splayed across the bed, panties discarded to the side. Your shirt pulled up over your breasts and your skirt still clinging to your figure, pushed up over your hips. Your legs spread apart and your pussy exposed with your swollen, sensitive lips coated in your glistening slick.

“Are you read for more, my darling?” he asked, barely waiting for your whispered answer before plunging himself inside you, feeling your copious slick coating his length as your walls quivered around him, aftershocks of your orgasm still rippling through you.

Sanji had wanted to take his time—wanted to make passionate love to you like someone as magnificent as you deserved, not just fuck you—but the way you clenched around him, the way you sighed so dreamily and so beautifully for him and only him—it was all but impossible to hold back.

He felt your legs wrapping around his muscled back, pulling him into you, as he thrust, driving him deeper into you.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmured, his lips against your ear, “so beautiful. This is heaven.”

You moved together simultaneously, your hips lifting upward to his thrusting body, and you whimpered as his cock pulsed inside your needy cunt. You rocked against each other, bodies arching and colliding in perfect rhythm, his lithe frame almost elegantly hypnotic in his motions. He gazed down at you with adoration, watching your lips part to gasp with every stroke, and he found himself edging ever closer to his own release.

“Sanji,” you asked, your eyes glazed over and half-lidded, lips barely parted. “Will you cum in me?”

“Yeah? Want me to fill up that pretty pussy, baby?”

“Please, Sanji?”

“Anything for you,” he sighed. The sweetness of your voice, the way you said his name, was like a drug; it was all he needed, all he ever wanted to hear.

His pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more erratic and frenzied, the feeling of your warmth wrapped around him becoming more and more euphoric with every stroke. At last, he groaned your name in blissful agony as his hips stuttered and he spilled himself into you, your greedy cunt pulling spasm after spasm from him, until he collapsed on top of you in exhausted bliss, your mingled juices slowly dripping out of you.

“Oh my darling, that was amazing,” he said through staccato breaths, his face buried in your neck, as he tried to regain his composure. “I don’t know how you’re even more perfect than in my dreams, but you are.”

“Was it everything you hoped for?” you asked, smiling as you ran your fingers through his damp mess of blonde hair.

“My sweet, you were spectacular,” he sighed, as he stroked your cheek gently with the pad of his thumb and planted a tender kiss on your forehead.

“Oh Sanji, you were incredible,” you grinned, tracing your fingers along the sinewy contours of his upper arms, before adding in a teasing whisper: “Can’t wait to tell my diary all about it.”

[desire-mona]

siiiigh. todd autism headcanons because im projecting.

(using they/he/she pronouns for todd in this post. will explain but also if u dont agree i dont care, tw for alcoholism. time period is vague but autism hasnt existed as a legitimate medical diagnosis for all that long, so keep it in mind i guess.)

- cannot for the life of him stand welton's blankets. so itchy, just thin enough to not warm you up enough but still make you sweat, not long enough to cover your entire body. yes im making the blanket line in their poem about actual blankets, a boy needs to vent somewhere.

- beyond terrible temperature regulation, ALWAYS just a little too hot which is made worse by her sensory issues when it comes to wet fabric. constant slight agony and it never really goes away. theyre about 5 minutes away from crying about how uncomfortable they are at all times.

- had god awful handwriting until high school, like his teachers could BARELY read his handwriting it was Bad. OOOOOH OH MY GOD THERES A TRAIN GOING BY I CAN HEAR IT HONKING this is a really ironic thing to be pointing out rn but its sooooo worth mentioning. its still honking this is fun. 🚂. anyway. her parents made her spend an entire summer fixing her handwriting bc that was like the One thing her teachers criticised. its Fine now but their motor function simply doesn't deliver in the handwriting department.

- had a VERY INTENSE special interest in aquatic life + marine biology growing up, like read every book about any ocean animal in any library intense. his parents eventually forced him to abandon it because its "not a good career focus" but he still perks up when anyone mentions fish. once talked neils ear off about the biodiversity of coral reefs for roughly 2 hours, neil took her to an aquarium for their first date. rip todd anderson you wouldve loved spongebob squarepants.

- looooves pets, namely cats, but they have Too Sweaty hands all the time so any animal fur sticks onto their hands and just feels. so awful.

- had a brief period in his 20s where he was definitely an alcoholic, started as a social drinker but got too addicted to the feeling of not having to adhere to social conventions quite as hard, especially around other drunk ppl. eventually went sober after they realised they just Cant Stand the feeling of a hangover anymore. autistic ppl r more likely to develop a dependency on alcohol if we do start drinking. just btw.

- gets a Pretty Expansive vocabulary after actually starting to pursue literature. sometimes his family lightly teases him about using big words but it confuses the hell out of him. its just a word she thought would apply best!!

- soooooo obsessed with what other ppls idea of them is, both in an anxious way and out of genuine curiosity. would never ask ppl what they think of her bc she thinks thats 1) very broad 2) seems compliment fish-y and 3) just gonna lead to "i think ur great/ nice/ whatever filler compliment." but the dream is to sit someone (neil) down and just ask him every single question possible about how he perceives him.

- asks a billion clarifying questions about anything someone asks him to do, gets anxious about how many questions he's asking, tries to just figure it out, freaks out about the possibility of getting it wrong, ends up doing the thing perfectly. weekly occurrence.

- never fully grasped the appeal of religion (most definitely grew up catholic or christian or Something) just bc she could NOT let the lack of proof go. ALSO not an atheist bc the vastness of space scares them out of it. religious beliefs r a weird topic for them.

- suppresses a good chunk of his stims in public bc One total time someone looked at him weird while he was chewing on a sweatshirt string and he was like i gotta stop NOW. eventually develops tics and has to mask THOSE in public too. dear god someone let this girl unmask. also i started ticcing while writing that bc my body does this great thing where i only tic when im reminded of the concept of ticcing. its great and totally doesnt make me think im faking them (faking for who? dunno bc it usually happens when im alone)

- DOES in fact stim around neil bc NEIL STIMS TOO!!!!!!!! joyous day when they found THAT out! gets vocal stims of random lines from whatever play neil is practicing for. YEAA ART THOU THEEEEREE was a vocal stim for a solid week and a half which made neil VERY excited (autistic neil. how i love u autistic anderperry)

- velcro is The most evil vile disgusting material to ever grace this mortal realm. he hates it more than anything ever and i mean that fully. the feeling of BOTH sides, the noise, how easily it comes apart, she hates it all.

this is the gender part

never really viewed gender and gender roles as anything to adhere to beyond the fear of punishment if they dont. finds any social convention relating to gender to be Really dumb and meaningless, bc gender isn't (scientifically) real in any capacity, so why treat it like that? for the longest time just shrugged and said "eh, i guess im a boy" bc thats what she was used to being told, and didn't feel particularly drawn to agree OR disagree. eventually realised on a late night that Wait. i dont Actually care what i am. like yeah im a Male i guess but also im just me. my brain doesnt have a gender and i basically am my brain, right? and then never really thought about it again because that's genuinely how little he cares. adhering the most to canon with that mindset, she never really tells anyone (for obvious reasons on top of the overall apathy) and just lets the he/him happen to her but. in my dream world? agender they/he/she todd anderson. and this is MY blog so those are the pronouns im using from now on. i will forever love talking abt how autistic ppl very often view gender differently than allistic ppl, will forever love talking abt how autistic ppl are more likely to be trans. autism!!!

also yes that entire paragraph is just my view of gender, change the pronouns and the todd mentions and its just me. what of it.

[punsmaster69]

3/JAN/20XX

[The handwriting is basically chicken scratch. It's recognizable as distinctly not being Sans' handwriting.]

Hi.

Hello-

Should I write that in a journal? It's not mine, so...??

How does he usually format it?

Everyone else figured it out..

Okay! I'm just!! Going to.

Write.

"Are you sure you will be alright to do this, Sans?"

"not like i can lay around and do nothin'."

"distracting is the easiest part i could be doing anyway."

"If you are certain."

"You and Mettaton are in charge of getting the decorations up, it was?"

Mettaton looked at me, then back to Toriel with a nod.

"Mhm."

"Blooky, dear, you can play birthday tunes, can't you?"

"...i can.. find something, probably..."

Undyne raised Frisk's arm, lifting them off the floor just slightly.

"We'll help with the cupcakes!!"

Frisk, unphased, gave a thumbs up.

"Grillby will be keeping in communication with Sans, ensuring it goes smoothly."

"Flowey, will you still be on watch with him? As a precaution."

"In case Trashbag can't keep Papyrus away long enough? Yeah, yeah. Sure."

"pretty much."

Toriel started like she was going to say something to Flowey, but released it with a sigh.

I think she's given up on scolding him for that nickname anymore. It's just what he calls Sans now.

Despite that, sometimes it seems like he might kind of...

Kind of like Sans?

A little?

"Trashbag, you better not keel over while we're doing this."

"You'll make everyone's jobs harder."

Maybe?

"At least wait until the fifth to die."

Might just be hopeful.

"He is not dying."

"that'd be a terrible birthday present."

"Death as a gift..."

"Sounds like a sick metal band or something."

"O-Or like, a one-liner in an action movie!"

"Not to break the convo, dears, but don't you think Papyrus will be getting suspicious here shortly?"

"he's already started sending question marks in the group chat."

"Well. If all is set and agreed, then all that is left is to wait for tomorrow."

"Thank you for allowing us to use the space, Grillby."

Grillby nodded at Toriel and she nodded back.

Me and Undyne walked with Sans back to his house. She says she's following in case Sans topples over.

Considering that Sans pretty much spent the entirety of the week (technically not a week fully but like almost a week so I'm counting it as a week-) barely able to get off the couch (or out of bed) without looking like a poorly balanced display skeleton in the wind, I get where she's coming from.

It's kind of concerning that he's behaving so normally today.

At least he let himself return to the couch upon getting home.

Papyrus was concerned as to where we disappeared with Sans to, but he ensured him that it was his idea.

"just wanted a quick visit to grillby's real quick."

"GRILLBY COULD PROBABLY BE CONVINCED TO COME HERE, IF HE KNEW THE SITUATION..."

"and take him out of work? it's fine. gotta get back on my own two feet at some point."

Oh my god.

I didn't even say what we were doing.

Papyrus' birthday is tomorrow.

Sans wanted to arrange a surprise party to raise Papyrus' sprits after all the stress lately.

Specifically noting that he doesn't want it to be the kind where everyone jumps out.

"paps is already jumpy from being anxiety-riddled all the time lately."

"being the cause of that anxiety already, the last thing i want is to make it worse by scarin' him."

Sans does video calls with his therapist sometimes, maybe Papyrus could use that kind of thing as well...

[hauntedwitch04]

Secret lovers

Morpheus x Godess!Reader

Words: about 0.7k words 

Warnings: None, just fluffy 

Author’s note: Hi love! I finally wrote again after two months and it felt so good, but before I could not write because I was totally full with school and than I had a terrible flu. I wrote it as the reader is Hecate, because I love her and her power. 

Requests are open I Ask

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You can't help but smile as you see the small gift your lover has left on your throne. You take it in your hands and read the title of the book that was just left for you, as you realize that a note is hidden inside. I take it carefully and see that it is nothing but Dream's handwriting, and I can't help but smile even more like a silly little girl in love with her first crush. I read the note carefully.

"To my beloved, who has bewitched me since our first meeting with her cursed eyes, casting a spell on me from which I cannot and will not break free. I miss you, please meet me in our place when night falls. I love you.

Forever yours, your humble servant."

I clutch the letter to my chest before hiding it, hearing the throne room door open and the faithful guard speak to me.

"My Lady Hecate, the librarian of the Kingdom of Dreams requests an audience with you, to discuss a book." She says bowing, I nod hastily and wave her in.

Lucienne enters smiling as my guard leaves us alone in the room.

"Hecate, lady of magic and of all witches, it is a pleasure to see you again." She says, continuing to maintain the facade we are obliged to keep. Sogno and I have been lovers for centuries now, but because of bad relations with her family, she is afraid that if they knew that about our relationship, something might happen to me.

I run to hug her, and she merely reciprocates that gesture of affection.

"I have missed you my friend." I say while still holding her in my death grip.

"You too my dear." She replies.

"Why are you here? I just saw Sogno's message. Something didn't happen, did it?" I ask anxiously as I look into her eyes.

"No, don't worry, nothing happened. My king, however, was dying of anxiety in not knowing whether I had received his message and whether I had come this evening, so he asked me to accompany you." She says as she looks up at the sky, smiling, only to darken for a moment. "You know lately Desire has been causing him a lot of trouble, and he's just afraid for you. Every second I see him not busy with the realm, I see him pining in terror of losing you,, he's afraid it will happen as with-"

"With Calliope and Orpheus." I finish for her with the same veil of sadness. "I understand, I've been very worried lately, too. I haven't heard from her in a while."

She smiles and nods at me, before reaching out her arm to embed it in mine.

"Then I'd say it's time to go to him and end everyone's worry." I smile and nod as we leave the room and make up yet another 'excuse to get away from my lover.

The only people who know about the history between me and the dream lord are my trusted advisor Thali and Lucienne, and I can't help but be glad about that because they are two of the people I trust the most.

In a few easy steps I find myself in our favorite hangout, a beautiful flowering forest with a bench on which we often sit and chat or just quietly enjoy each other's presence.

As soon as I see his messy hair and long black coat I start running toward him, wrapping my arms tightly around my chest, while my heart can't stop beating wildly. He does the same, putting his head in the crook of my neck, breathing in my scent.

"God, how I have missed you my love." He says, and finally in that moment, in hearing his voice, I can say I feel at home again.

[bloodsplatteredcrown]

A FEW MORE DOODLES FOR TODAY! (I’ll make actual art or a lore post of them one day I swear) (maybe)

What my handwriting said if people can’t read it (it’s TERRIBLE I deeply apologize)

1 (Leo): “Jason! Are we sure we can even trust him?? He literally tried to kill is and-“___”He’s behind me, isn’t he?”

3: Will has multiple arms!

4 (Percy): “Oh my gods they’re all weirdos (get me off this ship dear god)”

[madamefluffnstuff]

Long Distance

Fandom: Elder Scrolls Online

Pairing: Naryu Virian x GN!Reader

Rating: T

Warning(s): Mentions of assassins, political assassination in a medieval-esque fantasy setting, long distance relationships, overall fluff.

Words: 700

AN: I noticed our favorite Morag Tong assassin doesn't get much love on here. I wanted to fix that.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Naryu stretched herself out on the inn bed, sighing in relief. Another contract finished- quite cleanly too, she thought to herself. Varon would be pleased. This particular "victim" managed to weasel their way to the top of the Morag Tong's hit list while simultaneously being extremely difficult to track. But Naryu Virian is nothing if not resourceful, and a few discreetly slipped coins (along with a cheap bottle of wine) soon got her the answer she was looking for.

However she couldn't leave town just yet; she entered under the guise of a pilgrim on a journey to honor the Ancestors. Luckily for her there was, in fact, a shrine not too far from the little hamlet. To leave so suddenly would raise alarms, and the guild would be quite cross with her if there were suspicions of their involvement.

No, another day or two should suffice. It would give the assassin enough time to solidify an alibi, gather some supplies for the trip back, and make her escape.

If everything went as planned she'd be gone before they found the body.

Suddenly the sound of running water filling a wash basin filled her ears. A thought came: a hot bath sounds delightful right about now. Not only as a treat for a successful mission, but also to make sure she got all the blood off. As she stood up to request a private bath, her foot bumped her knapsack and a small envelope slipped out of the opening.

Her eyes widened a bit, how did she forget about that? After all, it was hand delivered by a courier just this morning. For a brief moment she had thought her cover had been blown until she saw the handwriting. The Dunmer woman knew that handwriting from intimate experience. Many surreptitious notes passed back and forth from the owner, along with many maybe-not-so-discreet glances across crowded rooms. One of those notes and glances even lead to a late night meeting behind some stables for a heated and passionate kiss.

Naryu snatched up the letter and plopped back on the bed as she very carefully broke the seal.

"N,

I hope this letter finds you well. Not getting into too much trouble, right? Though knowing you, my sweet, you're getting into all kinds of trouble.

Things are relatively well. I'm back in Vvardenfell helping the Mages Guild recover some old tomes. It's a bit dull, but the coin is good. Right now I'm in Seyda Neen, where I will then make my way to Vivec City. We'll see what happens after that.

I miss you terribly. Things just aren't the same without you, especially when I don't get to hear your voice. I'd like to swap stories with you again when we meet up. Mine are not nearly as exciting as yours but I know you like to hear them anyway.

You're probably on a mission right now, so just make sure to stay safe and be careful. Write back whenever you can, my dear.

All my love,

V.

P.S. Come visit soon. The dogs miss you."

A dreamy sigh escaped her lips. "V" for Vestige. Most people knew them as a war hero, a savior, maybe even a walking good luck charm, depending on who you asked. But Naryu knew them as someone else- they trusted her enough to tell her their story, of Mannimarco's betrayal, Coldharbor, and losing their soul to the God of Despair and Domination... it was crazy to hear.

Even crazier to think they'd trust her, an assassin, with such a secret.

Those in her line of work were discouraged from having romantic relationships, so Naryu was definitely pushing some boundaries by having this long-distance one. However what Varon didn't know wouldn't hurt him. As much as she wanted to keep the letter she knew it would be best to get rid of it. The fireplace downstairs would work nicely...

But that could wait until tomorrow. For now she was going to read it over and over again and hear their voice in her head until the sun rose for a new dawn.

It would suffice until she could hear it again with her own two ears.

[twst-om-lover]

This is an OC thing I wrote so uh enjoy!! It’s fluff, with a suggestive line but it’s just meant to be a fluffy thingy! Enjoy this very much self indulgent thing!!! It's meant to be an OC x Oc thing but can be read as an OC x reader because it's from an OCs perspective and I never named the second oc!

Everything hurts, why does everything hurt? I was in bed, surrounded by soft things, nothing should hurt. Wait, was I sleeping on my back weird again, gods I hate it when I do that. 

“Time to wake up, love. We’ve got to get down to the next town if you wish to keep on your schedule.” I whine and cuddle into the warmth I’m being…held by? Who cares warm and feels like snuggles…. 

“Come on now, Love. I know you’re comfortable, but we have to get up. The others are waiting on us.” Wait what the fuckkkk that voice is real that strangely British and smooth voice is so real. I shoot up and stare, very confused, at the oh so attractive elfin man in front of me.

“What the…fuck?” I still sound like myself…so not everyone is weirdly British for New Orleans. “Wait who are you, where…are we what the actuall fuck…’ I mutter looking around extremely confused. The…oh so attractive elf just chuckles and smirks at me. 

“I see your memory has reset again dearest. I’m your boyfriend, Avión. You dearest-“ He’s getting out of the bed and holy shit abs. I stare at his stomach trying to fight the urge to bite him and add to the already numerous bite marks covering him already. I feel a hand tilt my chin up to meet his smirking expression. “You didn’t hear a thing I said, did you dearest?”

“Not at all…” I mumble, feeling suddenly like telling him the truth was the best option.

“Oh hells you really are just…” he pauses, taking a deep breath before pulling away and putting clothes on. Oh I’m naked too, and…covered in hickies… Well that would explain why everything is so sore.

“Get some clothes dearest, I’ll grab your journals so you can read what all has happened.” I nod at his words, grabbing a large white pirate remanicant shirt and some black pants. I leave the tent I woke up in, gods this is reminiscent of Baldur's Gate Three or a Dungeons and Dragons campaign. I look around confused and Avión waves me over to sit by the fire with him. I walk over and sit down and get handed a book, one filled with my handwriting.

This had happened before, according to the tally I’ve kept, about twenty or so times, everyone was used to it. 

I’m twenty three now? I was sixteen last I remembered…. I whimper and put the book down and just sit pondering what’s happening.

I was in New Orleans before, home, in my bed reading fanfic, and now I’m here with this group of British fantasy people. I’m the bard of the group? I’m so confused. At least this world is beautiful, and having a stupid hot boyfriend (?) doesn’t make it absolutely terrible.

 I’m not alone, that’s comforting, past me wrote a lot about them all. Most of the book is about Avión, how kind he is, how comforting, some notes about his likes and dislikes, and a good page’s worth of information about the parties’ dietary restrictions and preferences. 

I really care, cared? Doesn’t matter, I clearly hold them dear and close to my heart. This feels weird, fuzzy, warm, yet heavy. I look around at the smiling faces of people I wrote about as friends and called “My dearest companions.” This world feels weird, I can feel something akin to oil with glitter in it thrumming in my veins, prickling at my soul, pulling me to sing or burn something. 

I put the book down and stand, pacing to get rid of the feeling of glitter in my veins and soul. It didn’t help. Avión comes over and grabs my hands.

“Dearest can you say this for me?” he asked softly, handing me a scroll with a phrase on it. I mumble the phrase and he smiles as my hands glow yellow. The yellow spreads to him before fading and he smiles at me before letting me sit alone again. 

He knows me so well, doesn’t he… Twenty one times, this is my…our twenty first time dealing with a memory reset. I still find it weird that I’m the only one not British, but it’s fine. This world is warm, I’m cared for by this odd group of people, and the me that wrote this was very happy. I’ll get used to this world again, I hope so at least. I’ve done it twenty times before. I add the twenty-first tally to the back of the book and give it back to Avión before sitting next to him as he stares into the fire in front of us. 

“So…we love each other?”

“That would be correct, dearest.” I shyly take his hand and he rubs my knuckles comfortingly. “It’ll be okay, lovely. You’ve forgotten before, you’ll remember soon.”

“Okay.” I mumble softly and smile weakly at him. I really do hope it all turns out okay.

[the-heaminator]

@crumpled--notes I'm sorry the art is not very good in any way shape or form and Ivan is sideways for some reason, I do still hope its satisfactory for the art trade though!

"Translation" (owing to my terrible handwriting) under the cut

Ivan Braginsky

“Recently” turned (it was nearly 250 years ago) hencewhy he dresses like that, sort of leaned into the vibe too hard.

About 30-35 physically.

the boobies of a god i hope you see that.

Has werewolf bf (Alfred)

Loves his scarf, it was made by his older sister Katya who refused to become a vampire or dabble in the dark arts to become immortal, and died about 200 years ago, meaning the scarf is very dear to him. It has been mended so many times that there is scarcely any of the original cloth remaining.

Hears all your bs

Is chubby, this is important information.

Natalya Arlovskaya

Younger sister of Ivan, dabbled quite deeply into the dark arts to become immortal.

Currently dressed to the nines for a hot witch date (with Erza)

Also about 250 though physically she is 25.

Katya gave her the necklace before she fully went into the dark arts, and it is incredibly close to her heart.

Is currently flirting.

Deals with her stupid brother and even stupider bf all the time, it is actually kind of funny the shit they get themselves into.

A witch specifically relating to demons, spirits and the likes

[kmackatie]

2, 22, and/or 28 for weird questions for writers :)

thanks for asking, friend!

(ask me a weird writer question)

2. If you had to give up your keyboard and write your stories exclusively by hand, could you do it? If you already write everything by hand, a) are you a wizard and b) pen or pencil?

Oh god, like, I could, but my handwriting is terribly messy and inefficient over long stretches of time. It gets worse and worse the longer I write, though I do take work meeting notes by hand but they often have to be interpreted after. Maybe I should give it a go with a ficlet one time just to see what it is like!

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

Oh, chaotic af. My notes are either at the top or bottom of whatever document I'm writing in (occasionally they end up in their own 'notes/outline/planning' doc if it's a longform fic), and more often than not they are copied Discord conversations where I have been spitballing ideas at friends. I do have a Discord channel in my private server for plot ideas and lines of dialogue as they come, but it's not organised in any sense.

28. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why?

Hmmm this one changes for different fics and different reasons? I think, the one that will always be near and dear to my heart, is musicians au Lythir. While he shares name and visage with Matt's NPC, at this point the specific version of Lythir in my head feels very much like an indulgent oc. I've had a lot of fun building him out in the world and giving him a fleshed out personality. In other fics, Jester and Caduceus are always favourites too.

[willowshimmer]

I'll do a Christmas Flowershoes story tomorrow so here's this

Kidnapped

3rd person pov:

Li Ning was in the shoe store working.

As he was about to close he saw smoke appear around him and the next thing he knows he has a bag over his head.

Still 3rd person pov:

Nezha and Mk are talking while eating some noodles until...

*CRASH*

A brick is sent flying through the window with a note attached to it.

"I SWEAR TO GOD IF IT'S THOSE SPEEDY PANDA FREAKS I SWEAR THAT'S THE SECOND TIME THEY BROKE MY WINDOW!!!"- Pigsy shouted as he picked up the brick.

"It's addressed to you Nezha"- Pigsy said as he handed Nezha the note.

"Huh? Who would send a letter to me like that?"- Nezha asked as they grabbed the letter.

The letter has TERRIBLE handwriting but Nezha was able to understand.

It read-

"Dear Mk and others

We have kidnapped you're friend with blue hair and glasses.

If you want him back YOU WON'T

-The golden silver demons-"

In red crayon....

"Mk who are the golden silver demons and what do the want with my boyfriend?"- Nezha asked confused.

"They're names are Jin and Yin and they always try to find away to defeat me but always fail and they're trickster demons but they don't know that he's you're lover so when you show up they'll probably surrender idk"- Mk answered knowing that they'll surrender once they the third lotus prince at their doorstep.

"Well then let's go save my boyfriend..."- Nezha said grabbing they're staff.

Li Ning pov:

"Where am I?"- Li Ning said as he started to wake up.

"You're in our lair..."- Two voices said coming from the middle of the room.

The lights turned on revealing two demons.

One had orange skin and gold hair.

And the other had blue skin and silver hair.

"Who are you?"- Li Ning said while struggling to untie himself from the chair he was tied to

"You're worst nightmare.Jin"- The Golden demon said.

"And Yin."-The Silver demon followed.

"THE GOLDEN SILVER DEMONS!"- They said in unison.

"Okay...?"- Li Ning questioned.

"So what are you guys gonna do with me torture me, hold me hostage."- Li Ning asked jokingly.

"Actually we're gonna hold you hostage."- Jin says with a wide grin across his face.

"Our plan is that when we kidnap you Mk will try to rescue you but we will lie saying that we will kill you and then he'll surrender and then he'll be vulnerable"- As Yin explains the plan Li Ning can feel the ground shaking and is wondering why?

*BOOM*

"WHO DARES KIDNAP MY LOVER!?"- Nezha busts in fully fired up with Mk behind him.

"P-p-pr-PRINCE NEZHA!?!?!"- Jin yells clearly scared for his life.

"Hi I'm also here."- Mk says holding his staff.

"WE ARE SOOOO SORRY WE DIDN'T KNOW HE WAS YOU'RE LOVER!"- Jin and Yin say on they're knees apologizing profusely.

"LEAVE OR I WILL HUNT YOU BOTH DOWN!"- Nezha exclaims holding they're staff tightly.

"AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!"- Both of them start running away for their life's.

"Wow that was so cool Nezha!"- Mk says with stars in his eyes.

"Oh it's just a little trick I learned from my brother. Jinzha"- Nezha says as he walks over to they're tied up boyfriend.

"Are you alright Li?"- Nezha asks.

"Yeah I'm fine just a bit scratched up but fine"- Li Ning says as Nezha starts to untie him

"Do want to go to Pigsy's Noodles with me and Mk?"- Nezha asks as they help Li Ning get up.

"Of course I'd love to!"- Li Ning says as he kisses Nezha's cheek.

"Well then c'mon you gays- I MEAN GUYS SORRY!"- Mk says as he follows behind them.

Let me know what you guys think.

Also I'll do a Christmas one tomorrow I promise

[red-fuzz]

Darling Eloise, my dearest friend!!

I apologize in advance if my handwriting in this letter is a little uneven; I must admit, my hands are a little shaky right now!! There is some reason for this, and it is also the reason why I am writing to you once again!!

You won't believe it, – good lord, even I do not believe it completely, – but I've just received a message from Igor!! Do you realize that?? This message is right in front of my eyes, but I still cannot believe that all this is happening in reality!!

He's wondering why I've been away from the hotel for so long!! And he called me "DEAR", can you imagine that?? There is no limit to my joy, I cannot stop smiling!!

And, my God, I just realized that I have to answer something. I need your wisdom and a fresh look at this situation because, at the moment, I cannot think straight and judiciously!! If I start answering right now, I am afraid I'll say something unnecessary!! I don't want to be shown to him in the manner of an irrational and inadequate person!! I hope you understand!!

Anyway, I hope you're in good health and you're doing well!!

Sending much love as usual,

Jemma.

To my dearest little post gal,

If you were here I'd imagine our unified harpy screams to be able to shatter glasses and be the horror of every seller of such conundroms. It seems our little friend Igor may have developed if not a crush, a interest in you atleast! You have always been godlike at leaving a remarkable statement with people haven't you goodness gracious. Like the incident with mister Parlemour am Goetheplatz! What a scream such occasion was!

But deary was his handwriting in any way shaky, it may just be a sign of how he was awfully nervous like a giant fawn over writing you. Told you he'd take a liking to you eventually! His "Dear" appears a dead giveaway if you ask the professional matchmaker (still my little heart feels quite insulted you daliated from the service)!!

Maybe try to slip into a different gown for the occasion, like a masquerade. Be cool and casual like a bottle of chilled champagne during a business meeting of the men in suits. Yet, you should retain your original dashing self. The first orange freckled leaf of late summer you are. After all that's what he fell for did he not ~

Okay putting the breaks in there, but mayhaps attempt to find out more on his personalities in life. Whom and what he holds dearly close. Such Informationen Are utmost vital!

Deary I will not apologize for my terrible handwriting, as you well know me and my pleasures taken. You are aware of my favoritism of words - so you shall find it agreeable for us to meet up and discuss everything et all included won't you!

Keep your head safe until then and be all well.

Your dearest wishes, Eloise

PS. Vivian sent you a parcel with a gown for delivery to God knows who. Thought to inform you darling.

PS PS. Have you recently heard the news of what has been going on at the border? They say numerous people were savagely attacked by police officers. Not to stress you.

[letters-to-taylor]

Dear Taylor,

Hello, how are you? My name is Caitlin. I’m 34 years old - a few months older than you- and I’ve been listening to your music for 16 years.

I’ve never been a very demonstrative person online. I like to observe rather than join in. I’m the total opposite in person, but online, I keep it low key. However, I went to watch your Eras tour film last night and in between wondering if you got chance to pee during the concert and what eyeliner you use as that shit did not budge, I realised I’d quite like to share what your music means to me.

I thought about writing a physical letter but my handwriting can be hard to read so thought I’d go back to basics and join tumblr. So my plan is to write letter posts and just put them on here. Gotta put stuff into the universe somehow, right?

I might jump around a bit in your discography but I’ll get there.

So let’s begin.

I’m going to start from the first song I heard of yours, Teardrops on my Guitar.

It was December 2007. I’m British and live in the UK but at that point, I was living in Cambodia. I’d finished school earlier that year and was taking a year out before university. My plan was to explore and have adventures and grow up a bit, so I worked in a cafe and earned my air fare. In November 2007, I arrived at an orphanage to work in the kitchen.

My god, it sucked. I was horribly homesick, the expat in charge of the organisation was frankly bonkers, and I had no clue what was going on. I worked ridiculously long hours trying to figure out what I was meant to be doing but couldn’t get it right.

The only English language radio station in the country at the time was Love FM and it was hilariously terrible. Long periods of silence, adverts playing over songs, random cut outs. But it was ours and I clung to it. I remember texting in once asking for a cheer-up song (I was so miserable) but they misread the message and played a “cheeky” song: Touch my Bum by the Cheeky Girls. I don’t know if you’ve heard it but go and seek it out if you haven’t. I did laugh but through tears!

Anyway, the one English speaking DJ was American and had a love of playing young American female artists from the US (he played Love Song by Sara Bareilles to DEATH.)

I remember standing at the kitchen window with my sweeping brush in hand, staring out over the fields toward the hills. I was so lonely.

The DJ announced he had a new hot song from “Swift Taylor” and he played Teardrops.

It wasn’t about me or my situation but I felt that someone out there was feeling similar to me and she’d written a song about it.

Even now, 16 years later, if I listen to it, I’m that 18 year old girl again, standing in that kitchen. That song was an outlet for the pain I was in, thousands of miles from home with no friends around me. So thank you.

I’ll try to post again soon.

Stay sparkly,

Caitlin x

[callmesumi]

YANDERE (IN SOME PARTS) SANGUE NERO (OC) x Reader/S/O bits

S/O is female in some of these and uses she/her pronouns in some, but there’s also ones for males

TW: mention of dicks, pussy and gay, woooo

Dark Themes (Gore, Blood, etc) as Sangue is a gangstar

Created on a thought lol

SANGUE NERO (YANDERE)

YANDERE ALPHABET

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Extremely intense once she has you right where she wants you. At the start of her obsession, expect gifts with a note with fancy handwriting (‘Morning, Gorgeous’ , ‘Hi, love. You’ve been working so, so hard, have this gift.’ , etc) like chocolate, sweets, etc. But as the weeks pass by, the gifts get more… gruesome to say the least. Use your imagination.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Oh, so, so messy. As I mentioned before; she works for the Italian mafia. She’s not afraid to get her hands dirty.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

She wouldn’t mock you stereotypically I guess per say, just ask how you think your family and friends are doing.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Not much, but Sangue likes the taste of blood. It’s what she’s named after, after all. She’ll dig a knife into her darling’s skin and lick the blood.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

On a scale of one to ten, a 4 on vulnerability. As much as she loves you, she can’t let her guard down so easily.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Betrayed. Awful. She’ll break your arm and patch you up, so you can’t escape for a while. Sangue will gaslight you, asking why you did it and how terrible you’ve made her feel and ask if you enjoy it.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Semi-is a game to her. When the darling thinks that she’s gone out through the back door, when really Sangue hasn’t, she semi-enjoys watching you trying to escape and drags you to the bedroom to suck on darling’s dick or pussy.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

“Oh, sweet, dear (s/o), you tried to escape right under my nose, hm?” Torture. Simple word, torture. If you tried to escape in a way she really doesn’t like (example: while she’s busy talking to her teammates on the phone)

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

A family. Either adoption (for all you females and infertile males, don’t worry nothing to be ashamed of 💋) or …biologically. (Males)

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Despite her “cold emo boss facade”, she gets jealous quite easily. She especially doesn’t like you talking to any friends she deems ‘too close’, sorry but your never seeing them again. Expect a breaking news about their death the very next few hours.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Only God knows how many kisses she gives you on the daily. You tried counting once and ended up at in the 3 digits.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Dunno what do for this.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Maybe, maybe not. Figure it out yourself~

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Spanking, Choking, Need I say more?

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Right to see:

Family, Friends (If they’re misbehaving)

Gone

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Quite patient if they behave.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Ha, not in a million years… unless she finds somebody else.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

No.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Life, man, life.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Wipe away the tears if able.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

I don’t think so. Idk—

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

She loves blood and calls her dad for two hours every Saturday, it’s not entirely impossible to escape for a little while. But again, she works for Passione. You’ll most likely be found before you can even escape the city.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Out of love.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Almost any length.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Four weeks.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Maybe.

NSFW ALPHABET

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Lots of cuddles, a glass of water and kisses.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Sangue’s favourite part of her body is her hands, no she doesn’t have a hand kink… probably. Her favourite part of her partner’s body is their lips.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Male S/O:

Likes to lick up the semen from their cock.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Likes blood being involved. Neck biting hard enough to draw blood stuff like that

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

She knows extremely well what she’s doing and is experienced.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Male:

Mating press

Female:

Idk just any?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Very serious. If your extremely dear to her, she’ll allow a joke or two.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

The carpet indeed matches the drapes. Almost no hair down there.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Very lovey-dovey no matter the gender.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Masturbates every week or so.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Spanking or being spanked, daddy/mommy kink, choking or being choked.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bedroom, alley, kitchen.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

DILFS, chubby girls and guys (loves the thighs), somebody a bit shorter than her (she’s 7’5 okay? Not many people are that height)

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Nasty bathroom stuff.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Pretty skilled at giving, likes her pussy licked every few weeks.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Idk.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

They think quickies are okay every few weeks.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

She’s pretty vanilla I guess, she likes to take risks sometimes.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

The longest she’s gone for is 12 rounds.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

She owns a few vibrators and dildos. She buys a few fleshlights for her male and trans s/o when they can’t if you/they (if you aren’t of that gender) ask. Uses the vibrators on female and male s/o and uses the dildos on female if they want her to, and male if they ask.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Likes being teased and likes teasing.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Pretty loud for their s/o, however for a one night stand she’s pretty quiet.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

She got caught by her dad fucking her boyfriend in her bedroom during her teen years.

“Sangue, what the duck” was all Risotto could say.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Pretty big chest and a medium sized ass with thicc thighs. They’re strong enough to crush a watermelon lol (she’s killed a few people using this method)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty high.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I’m not sure if she ever sleeps, tbh.

[moonlightchn]

A letter arrives in the post addressed to Chan, the return address is somewhere in Olympus and is scribbled on the back of the pretty light blue envelope. The handwriting on the front is neat and pretty, written in sparkly silver ink. The letter inside isn't nearly as elegant as the enevlope. The sides and backs of the paper are covered in crayon doodles and scribbles, all colourful and a bit janky looking.

"Dear Moonbaby,

It's Haneullie here! It's been a long time since I got in touch with you and wanted to.

Life is good up here in Olympus. Beanie has started school and absolutely loves it. My afternoons are filled with her ramblings about her friends and what they learnt at school that day. You know, they've been teaching them about plants and Yeseul has been growing her own little pea plant. It's so cute, it's the first thing she's responsible for and she's doing a super good job! The little pea shoot just made its appearance yesterday!

When I told her I'd be writing a letter to you she demanded that she show you her art skills, hence the little scribblings on the front and back of this paper. She said "want uncle Chan to have colour in his house and something to remember seullie with" so she wants her art to be displayed.

I've been able to work on my art too! I'm now running courses for the people here to learn in their free time! It's been so rewarding and people are having fun with it so it makes me happy!

How are you doing? I've been checking on you when I can, I hope you don't mind. I felt bad about leaving so abruptly and worry about you. I'm so sorry I wasn't able to tell you properly... You deserved better from me.

I want you to know that I'm here for you, I might not be reachable like before but I'm still gonna look after you as much as I can okay?

I hope that this letter reaches you safely. And I really hope you'll write back, it would be wonderful to hear back from you after so long. It's okay if you don't want to though! No pressure hehe.

I love you lots Moonbaby. Stay healthy and happy okay?

Love,

Haneul"

Attached are some instructions on how to get mail to Olympus with a small post it note which reads "just in case you want to write back <3"

Chan looks out the window curiously at the sudden change around, almost as if a burst of something had made it through the property in a flash, the air feeling lighter, different. It's not a change strong enough for humans to notice probably, which explains why he's the only one heading out, but the boy just knows something's up.

Thinking it could've been the fox playing around the wolf steps out, expecting to find her hiding, but is only met with a perfume he knows all too well.

There's a sudden ache in his heart, a burn almost as he follows the scent, hesitantly, to his mailbox. The envelope sticks out the side of the box slightly, the blue paper too easy to recognize even before he takes it out.

Staring at the name, her name, Chan takes a deep breath before walking back inside, straight to his bedroom.

Not today.

Maybe someday Chan will have the strength to read through another heart-shattering letter from someone he loves dearly. Maybe someday he will be healed enough to not feel the ground opening beneath his feet as the earth tries to eat him alive. Maybe someday, hopefully even, Chan will be at peace enough with himself to not feel the whole weight of the universe on his shoulders at the simple thought of those he's obviously failed–. Otherwise, why would they leave?

But it's not today.

Placing the closed envelope inside his bedside drawer, he traces the name softly with his finger. God, he misses her. He misses her terribly, he's dying to open the letter and know what it says. What she says. There's not a thing he wouldn't have done for her to stay, she just had to ask and he would've provided, but this is just how things were supposed to be if this is how they happened.

The doorbell brings Chan back to reality, hand pushing the small furniture closed before he walks out of the room without looking back again.

[peachbear88]

The Greatest Love Story

A/N: Inspired by this lovely image I saw. I'm making this into a high school angst AU that takes place in like the 1900's. For the record, I know Steve isn't a bad person but this is an AU and I need one of those... You know, guys for this story so.... Yeah! Sorry! BTW, the second poem is not written by me, it's written by Elizabeth Barrett Browning and I stole some quotes from Shakespeare.

Warnings: Angst, homophobia, swearing, character death.

Word Count: 3.2k

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Reader

----------

You scale the ancient wooden stairs of your small school. avoiding eye contact with anyone. The stares you receive from others are painfully obvious as you speed walk towards the library, seeking shelter from the judgmental glances from your peers.

"Hello dear," the kind librarian greets you as you walk past her towards your corner of the library.

You don't respond, quickly ducking behind the massive shelves, hoping to spend as much time as possible in your safe space before the classes start. Placing back your old books, you scan the shelves, until a particular title catches your eye.

"Love Poems by Women?" You murmur, flipping through the worn pages.

----------

A giant dusty book lands on the librarian's desk, making her look up.

"May I take this out?" You ask, your tone emotionless, cold yet tentative. The librarian smiles gently at you handing you back the book.

"Of course dear. Happy reading." You give her a small, thankful smile before dashing out of the library door. The halls are partially empty, save for the kids that skip class, hanging around in the hallways and dark alleys after school.

You duck your head, avoiding eye contact as you pass the group leaning against the lockers, most importantly, the hazel eyed beauty that could snap your neck in half, Yelena Belova.

"Hey!" Your head snaps up. Big mistake. You lock eyes with the famed blonde and you drop your head immediately, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Y-Yes?"

"Look at me when I'm talking to you." She snaps. You peek at her from the corner of your eye, her sleek dress pants catching your eye.

"Interesting outfit choice," you note before you can stop yourself.

"What did you say?" She demands and you gulp, backing away.

"N-nothing." She slowly steps towards you, backing you into the lockers.

"Get to class. And don't ever let me see you again идиот (idiot)." You hurry down the hall towards your classroom, tripping in the process as you repeatedly look over your shoulder, watching as Yelena turns back to her friend group.

---------

"She was cute," Natasha points out as Yelena reclaims her spot leaning against the lockers. "Why do you feel the need to tease her so relentlessly?" Yelena rolls her eyes, grabbing the flask of vodka back from her sister.

"She's annoying. I don't like her." Natasha smirks.

"Sure. Whatever you say."

---------

You let out a sigh of relief when the bell rings.

Your classmates flood out of the classroom, jostling each other aside in their rush to get home. You quickly sprint out the door, eager to get home, safe and sound when a hand grabs you by the arm and pulls you into a dark alley behind the school.

"Hello there girly..." A deep voice says. You gulp. The boy steps into the light to reveal Steve Rogers. One of those people that take pride in hurting others, a bully, your tormenter.

"W-what do you want?" He smirks, stepping closer to you.

"Well, a little birdie told me that someone had an encounter with a specific blonde this morning." You flinch when he grabs you by the throat, pinning you to the wall. "You wouldn't happen to be... I don't know, one of those dykes would you?" Your eyes widen and you shake your head vigorously as he laughs. "Oh man," he sputters, choking through his laughter. "Wait till the school gets ahold of this-"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence because a fist connects with his face, sending him reeling backwards.

"What the-" A strong hand wraps around his throat, pushing him backwards till his back connects with the wall.

"Listen to me you маленькое дерьмо (little shit), if you ever even think about coming near her again, I will sneak into your house at night, gut you like the fish you are and paint the school with them." Yelena warns in a surprisingly calm voice. Steve's eyes widen and he nods his head frantically until she lets go.

"Crazy bitch!" He spits, backing away quickly. You shuffle your feet, looking down at the ground as she watches him run.

"T-thank you." You mutter, not daring to look her in the eye. She sighs.

"This better not become a daily thing Y/L/N." You nod feebly. "Get out of here." You quickly pick your bag back up and sprint out of the alley, leaving Yelena by herself,

---------

"I'm home mom!"

"Welcome home sweetie!" Your mom pokes her head out of the living room.

"How's your book going?"

"As great as a woman writing a book can be." She chuckles forcibly. There's an awkward silence before she continues. "Your father came by today." She pauses as you swallow, feeling like something lodged itself in your throat.

"And what did he want?" She frowns at your tone.

"Sweetie, I know you don't like him but he's still your fa-"

"I don't have a dad," you growl, picking up your bag. "My dad died when he chose to abandon us." She watches as you climb up the stairs, sighing and rubbing her temple.

---------

You flop onto your bed, dropping the thick dusty buck onto the bed. You spend the rest of the afternoon reading through the poems until your mom calls you down for dinner.

It's an awkward dinner, quiet, only the sounds of dishes, chewing and utensils filling the room.

"I'm going to bed." You say after washing the dishes, not bothering to wait for a response.

That night, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling of your room.

"Love poems by women." You mutter, an idea popping into your head. You quickly sit up, flicking on your lamp and pulling out the book and a pen.

----------

"Good morning dear," the librarian greets you like she does every morning.

"I'd like to return this book." You reply coldly, passing her the book once again. She smiles gently at you.

"I hope you enjoyed your reading." She says while passing you, returning the book to its original shelf.

-----------

"Hello hon, can I help you with anything?" The librarian asks the dirty-blonde haired girl.

"No, thank you." The girl sends the librarian a tight lipped smile before returning her attention to the shelves. A ripped leather cover catches her attention. Love Poems by Women. She smiles, pulling the book from the shelf. Flipping open to the title page, a neat cursive catches her eyes.

Love flows between beings Gift from the gods Curse from the demons The missing part of every person Destined to be opposites Love is flexible Yet some seek to objectify love Love is not for the weak willed. - Aristophanes

The blonde haired girl hums, pulling a pen from her jacket's pocket and discreetly writing in the book, right next to the poem.

------------

Terrible.

That's the only way to describe your day. You received your essay back, ecstatic to see that you had received an A. Steve on the other hand had absolutely flunked. Instead of dedicating his time to studying, he decided to beat you up as a way of taking out his frustration.

You ended up limping out of the women's toilet, your leg flaring up whenever you moved, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

"Hi sweetcheeks," the librarian murmurs, her eyes trailing down your injured leg.

"'Ello." You quickly duck behind the shelves, pulling out the book you were looking for. Your brows scrunch together in confusion as you see a messier scrawl next to your handwriting.

Reality hits hard

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of being and ideal grace. I love thee to the level of every day's Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.

- Orpheus

You smile letting a light laugh slip from your lips. A sweet titter revealing the little girl underneath your cold, traumatized exterior.

Quickly, you grab your pen from your pocket and begin scribbling.

-----------

The air is knocked from your body as your back makes contact with the floor.

"Listen here dyke. I don't like you alright," Steve growls into your ear as Tony cracks his knuckles. "So here's what's going to happen: Everyday you're going to meet us here and," he pauses, cracking his neck. "Help us relive some stress." He smiles wickedly before punching you in the stomach, making you double over in pain.

Your eyes flutter shut as they deliver blow after blow 'till they finally stop. You tentatively open your eyes to see Yelena tackling Steve to the ground as Tony stares at them, eyes wide.

"I. Told. You. To. Leave. Her. Alone!" She screams, pummeling Steve with her fists. He groans, unmoving. You watch in terror as Tony picks up a trash can lid, sneaking up behind her as she punches Steve in the face.

"Watch out!" You scream, taking Tony as well yourself by surprise. She looks up to see you slamming into Tony sending him flying into the nearby wall of the alley.

He crumples, unconscious.

"Are you okay?" You mumble, limping towards Yelena, who's clutching a blood gash on her arm.

"'M fine,' she grits out. You shake your head, grabbing her wrist. She flinches but doesn't push you away.

"You're not okay. Let me help you." You plead. She stays silent and you quickly take her silence as a yes, leading her to the front steps of your home. You rummage through your back pack, finding a large wrap of bandages that you kept after your daily beating from Rogers and his friends.

She winces as you wrap her wound swiftly.

"Gentle!" She growls and you stare back at her defiantly.

"Well maybe if you would stop moving, it'd hurt less!" You retort and she shuts up, staring off into the distance. You dab the cut with a small bit of alcohol before wrapping the bandage all around her arm.

"Thank you." She whispers, giving you a small smile. Reaching out, she gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as you flinch back. You quickly, shovel the bandages and medicinal alcohol back into your pack, not noticing the hurt look on her face.

"No problem. The least I could do since you saved me." You reply bluntly, swinging the bag over your shoulder and slipping through the door.

"Wait-" She sighs as the door slams shut in front of her.

You exhale, leaning against the door as you try to catch your breath.

-----------

Yelena sighs exasperatedly, tugging at the collar of her dress shirt.

"What's wrong little sis?" Natasha smirks, plopping down next to her.

"I got hurt and Y/N patched me up." Natasha jumps up, eyes wide.

"You stained your new shirt?" She groans shaking Yelena violently. "God I'm going to kill you!" Yelena grabs her sister, stopping her.

"You're missing the point!"

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" Nat challenges, flopping back down on to the couch.

"She patched me up!" Nat's eyes widen.

"Oh. Oh." She inches closer to her sister, nudging her playfully, much to Yelena's dislike. "So are y'all like," she winks at her sister insinuatingly. "A thing?" Yelena scrunches her brows in confusion.

"A thing?" Nat rolls her eyes, sidling closer to her.

"Yes. A thing. An item? Lovers?" She shrugs, missing the way Yelena blushes.

"In her dreams," Yelena snorts, leaning back into the couch.

"If you say so..."

-----------

"Morning pumpkin!" The librarian chirps.

The blonde girl ignores her, breezing past her towards the the shelves at the very back, peeking over her shoulder quickly before pulling an old, leather bound book from the shelf.

She flips the leather cover aside to reveal the title page. Next to her messy, distorted scrawl was a neat, distinctive cursive once again.

Speak low if you speak love

- Aristophanes

She smiles gently, chuckling as she shakes her head.

"Shakespeare of all people," she whispers, her accent thickening. Pulling a forgotten pen from the shelves, she begins writing,

-----------

The highlight of your day became going to the library and reading the little messages scrawled in between the margins of the book by Orpheus. Like:

If music be the food of love, play on

Or

Her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love.

They made you smile on a daily basis, sometimes even eliciting a rare light laugh.

"Good morning sweetpea." The librarian greets you, not expecting a response. To her surprise and yours, you muster a small smile and a wave.

"Hello." You can feel the librarians shocked eyes following you as you round the bookshelf corner to find Steve, eyes wide, mouth open in shock as he stares down at something in his hands.

Your heart plummets. A book with a soft leather cover, yellowed pages. The book of poems.

You lunge for it but he step sides you swiftly, raising the book above his head.

"Speak low if you speak of love huh? I'm not surprised you know Shakespeare, you're such a nerd." He sneers, waving the book above his head.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about." You stutter, backing up. He grabs you by the collar of your shirt, lifting you into the air.

"Don't fuck with me!" He growls, dropping the book and kicking it to the side. "Who's Orpheus?"

"G-Greek hero. Musician." You stutter and he slaps you, hard. You can feel your cheek swelling under his fiery gaze.

"Don't even try me. Who. Is. Orpheus?"

"I don't know, I swear!" You mutter, wincing when you accidentally bite your cheek.

He drops you, watching as you scramble to your feet, backing away.

"This isn't over you little shit. I'll be back for you," he warns, giving your book one last kick for good measure before storming out of the library with Tony and Bucky on his heels.

You fall to your knees, silently sobbing as you crawl over too the book, dusting it off and hugging it to your chest.

Yelena sighs, her heart breaking as she watches you curl around the book protectively, lying on the floor.

-----------

"Where are you going?"

Yelena turns to find Nat, leaning against the school stairwell doorway, watching her.

"Just up to the roof. Need some fresh air," she lies, avoiding Nat's gaze. Nat lifts Yelena's chin up, staring into her eyes, boring into her very soul. Yelena squirms under her gaze until she finally lets go.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay." She smiles sadly at her little sister. "Just-" Her voice cracks as she pats her sister's shoulder. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Don't worry. I won't." She gives Nat a brief hug before hiking her pants up and starting up the stairs.

-----------

"Ah, well look who decided to join the party!" You look up from the ground to see Yelena, your eyes clouded with pain.

"No..." You croak but Steve pays no attention to you.

"Come to save your love Yelena?" He sneers, dropping you to the ground. "Or should I say... Orpheus?" Your eyes widen as you watch him advance towards her, pushing her closer to the edge of the roof.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She deadpans and Steve chuckles.

"Sure. If you won't admit, I'll just have to settle for destroying you from the inside out instead." He grabs her by the arm. "I haven't forgotten what you did to me." He points at a long thin scar along his jawline.

You watch as Tony sneaks up from behind Yelena, striking her with a metal bar. She crumples, falling to her knees.

"Hold her." Steve directs and Bucky dutifully grabs you by the arms. He holds Yelena's chin in between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at him. "Now you watch as I destroy the one thing you love the most." Tony tosses his the metal bar and Steve prepares himself before swinging it like a baseball bat.

There's a sickening crunch followed by your scream as the bar makes contact with your ribs.

"Stop!" She struggles, her eyes never leaving your broken body as he hits you over and over again. "Please! Leave her alone!"

Steve smiles evilly, locking eyes with her before swinging the bat again. Another scream. Blood trickles down your face from your nose.

"Is that right? Did the famous Yelena Belova just beg me?" He smiles cruelly before pushing you down on your back, his foot on your chest. You scream as he increases the pressure, your broken ribs digging into your lungs.

Yelena screams, kicking Tony's legs out from under him before punching Steve in the jaw. She grabs the iron bar before it hits the ground, clobbering Bucky in the stomach before kicking Steve in the stomach.

"ты сука (you bitch)!" She steps on his face swiftly, taking satisfaction in the groan of pain he emits before turning to you, gently cradling your face.

"Wow... That was pretty badass," you mumble and she laughs, tearing up. You reach out, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Don't cry." She frowns.

"I'm not crying."

"You are too." You smile, wincing in pain. "I didn't know you knew Shakespeare."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let this happen." You frown, caressing her face, forcing her to look at you.

"Hey, hey. It's fine. Don't worry. I'll be fine." You attempt to smile reassuringly but it comes out as more of a grimace. "Listen, if I don't make it-"

"Don't say that! You can't leave me!"

"Shush, listen you thickheaded poet. If I don't make it, go back to the book." You instruct her. She frowns but you can her off. "Promise me."

"But-"

"Promise me."

"I promise..."

"Good." You smile at her, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, your eyesight blurring. "Wait for me okay?" Your eyes flutter shut.

"No! No Y/N! Come back!" She shakes you roughly, sobbing when you don't respond.

----------

Yelena watches as your body is carted off under a white sheet. Nat stands to the side, watching as her sister stares off into the distance, all life drained from her body.

Go back to the book.

She stands, slowly trailing towards the library, her eyes bloodshot, cheeks caked with dry tears.

"Hi dear," the librarian greets her, discreetly wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. "What a shame. She was a lovely girl."

"She really was the best." Yelena agrees quietly, giving the librarian a small, comforting pat on the back before moving to the back of the library where she finds the book, lying on the floor.

Yelena,

I believe that we are the greatest love poem ever written. I love you always,

Y/N

A choked sob escapes her lips as she stares at the page. You knew. You knew the whole time and you didn't even say anything. A pair of soft arms wrap around Yelena's stomach as she lets go of the dam, her cries echoing throughout the library.

"I'm sorry..."

I'm sorry...

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