#i am going to be drawing him more often so stay tuned

[selarina]

The waves rush in, swallowing your feet whole. You feel the cold tingling sensation as it sits there for a moment, and then it retreats - back into the ocean.

You try to focus on the sounds as you stand there — the waves, the wind, the distant sound of a bird. You try to tune out the laughter that comes from behind you.

And you think this is nice. Almost too nice that it feels sad — the waves come back in, bestowing a parting kiss upon your feet, as you start thinking of retreating back to your room.

As you turn, you see him, his white hair and floral shirt fluttering against the harsh wind as he stands unmoved.

But in your pivot, your gaze lands upon him. Gojo Satoru, his white locks dancing against the wind, floral shirt rippling away from his body, yet his body stands so still and unmoving.

"We should go back in," his voice carries over the wind. "Came to save you in case you drowned. You know, like the charming hero I am."

"Ah," You indulged in the moment, as you feigned a swoon, jumping yourself into his arms, and he catches you without missing a beat. "How about you save me by carrying me back to my room?" His embrace a seamless cradle, made just for you.

"Well, every hero needs his lazy damsel in distress," he grins, as he looks down at you, his glasses slipping down the slope of his nose by a bit.

Your hand comes up to push his glasses up, until it stills close to the bridge of his nose. "Just be lucky you get a pretty one, what with your ugly face," you say.

"Hey! I'm plenty handsome," he practically whines. "You wouldn't get jealous all the time if I wasn't," as he adjusts his hand one more time before he starts trekking back in the path to your rooms.

"I wouldn't get jealous if you didn't parade yourself away so often," you roll your eyes, thinking back to the incident of schoolgirls fawning and pawing at him from a day earlier.

"I can't help who I am, and what kind of person wants their boyfriend to change." It's true, but you opt for crossed arms as you pout away.

You two finally make it back to your room, you don't try to point out how he could have made it back by transporting the two of you with one snap, you just cocoon yourself further into his bare chest, your hand tracing the occasional patterns on his chest.

He drops you when you get to the front of your room, as he mutters a goodnight, his head clearly looming in a place away from you.

Your hand comes up to grab his hand, and he looks back at you.

"What's wrong?" he asks, worry etched in his features, even as his eyes remain hidden from your view.

"You should sleep," your voice comes into a gentle plea. "You've been awake for far too long."

"I'm not tired, and I need to stay awake," he says, resolute as you expected.

"You can sleep for the night. I'll keep watch," you suggest.

"No, it's too dangerous, I should stay awake until we make it back."

A huff of exasperation escapes you. Your hand cups his cheek firmly, eliciting a near-pout from him at your grip. "Gojo Satoru, do you think I'm weak? Nod if you think I am."

His head shakes in a silent refusal.

"Then I can handle the night, and you should sleep. You'll feel better. Stronger," the final blow, finds its mark, and his defenses crumble.

"I want to," he says softly.

A beat passes.

"I can't sleep," his words emerged in a quiet mumble.

Ah, that makes sense. He's too stressed. As were you, but you found your moments of respite, feeling reassured as by the sight of him seated at the windowsill, keeping a discerning eye on over the world outside.

"Okay," you murmured, your hands relinquishing their hold on his face, fingers instead interlocking with his, drawing him toward your room.

"Wait— not tonight, baby. I'm too tired," he mumbles, tiredly. "Not that," you reassure. "I'll help you fall asleep," you pledge. A promise.

You let him plop himself onto the bed, you don't miss how he flops his head as he snuggles himself into the sheets.

You settle against the headboard, as your reach for his glasses, placing it onto the nightstand. . Your gaze returns to him, and there, amidst the ambient dimness of the room, you find his bright blue aglow, fixed upon the ceiling.

Your fingers extend, and with a gentleness traverse across his face, as they close his eyes.

"I don't know what you're thinking," he mumbles.

Your hand comes up to nestle in his hair, running and gently scratching patterns in random. You offer a soft amused hum, imploring him to continue.

"I'm not that easy, you know," he says, as he nuzzles further into the pillow. "I won't sleep."

"Right," you say.

You continue running your little patterns as you start to feel a bit bored yourself, and then you hear it — his first snore. A quiet grin curves your lips.

[thejournalisttintin]

I am also doing a few drawings of canon Tintin characters. But with schoolwork and stuff, I only have so little time…! 😩

First things first, here is my boy Chang!

I wasn’t sure how I would go about drawing him, since it’s been so long since I’ve drawn him.

Thanks to a post that @professorcalculusstanaccount made before on how to draw Chang, I was able to try my hand at drawing him. But with this one, I added my own drawing style.

So here he is!

And with a drawing, there will also be headcanons!

Headcanons for my interpretation of Chang:

After the events of Tintin in Tibet, Chang had stayed with Tintin and Haddock for a while before he eventually made the trip to London to visit his uncle. He took a train instead of a plane, as he had developed some trauma from having survived the plane crash in the Himalayas.

Several years later, Chang went to college in Bristol, where he took classes in classic English literature and world history, as well as art history.

He also took photography, as he’s always wanted to do something along the lines of Tintin’s work.

During his first semester, he befriended Hanna(my Tintin OC), who was in his art history class.

The two hit it off pretty well as friends, since Hanna thought Chang was very sweet. She was also the first person whom he opened up to about surviving alone in the Himalayas.

When Hanna told Chang about her desire to go into acting and singing, Chang thought she had a very solid goal in mind.

Chang learned much of his photography from Hanna's sister Maxine, who showed him how to operate a camera. She even showed him how to take action shots.

After some time, Hanna and Chang's friendship bloomed into a romance. They dated for about a year or so, with Chang keeping a few photo records of their time together.

Chang would frequently visit Tintin and Haddock in Brussels for about or week or two as part of a cultural exchange.

During the weeks in which he visited, Tintin began to develop a crush on Chang. Any time he visited, his feelings toward him became more obvious.

At some point, Hanna had caught on when she and Maxine were invited to Brussels, as well as Chang.

She knew Tintin often got flustered whenever Chang visited him, so she pulled him aside and told him about it. She wanted him to feel comfier with someone he truly felt happy with.

So Hanna and Chang made the decision to silently break up. Chang was worried Hanna wouldn't be able to move on, but she assured him everything would be okay.

So these are just my headcanons for Chang within my Tintin story interpretation. I might also do a fanstory about Chang visiting Tintin. Because I plan to include him in some of my future stories 😁

But this will be written, as my best strength is writing fanfics, lol...

Stay tuned for more characters and OCs to come!

[nerdycanible1]

Am back! :D

Omg guys! Almost forgot I had this ((joking)) but nah seriously! It had been years since I've posted anything here! 💀

Anyways imma go back to my roots!! Y'all remember the days of Legend of Korra where I've only simped for Lin Beifong? 👀 But I've found a new lady, well not really but I've got a new love!!

So y'all remember (if not don't worry about it) the whole genderbent au thing I've created and it was female Tenzin and male Lin and stuff like that? Well I've got some stuff for y'all!

So first and foremost, this is Tenna. She is genderbent Tenzin (female Tenzin). She is literally so hot and I cannot stop drawing her! Currently working on the backstory and this will be nothing like tLoK, actually it will in some places but yes! A lot will be changed!

But look at her! She's gorgeous! 🥺 Also I just wanted to show y'all my improvement of art over the years! QwQ it has improved so much and I'm so proud! Anyways I'll stop rambling and let ya get to the photo!

Tenna: 55 years old

Tenna in swimsuit enjoy 🗿

Side note: Tell me this isn't the most Tenzin expression ever xD

Anyways, my thoughts are simple. Make hot women. :D I am smooth brained and frankly I've been a simp for my genderbent Tenzin for years.

I wanted to update her concept instead of the one I've created years ago (plz forget that 💀) and frankly I love this version better. She looks kind, soft, hot, and first and foremost Tenzin-ish.

What I have for her so far:

She is 51-50 just like Tenzin in tLoK

She has one confirmed boy that I've come up with and one confirmed girl.

Their names are Jin (Jinora) and Ming (Meelo). I haven't come up with anything else for the kids as of yet.

She is pansexual. No discussion on this xD

She is currently in a relationship with Peng (Pema). But ma'am is known to wander around.

Tenna is also more in tune with her nomadic life style instead of the whole business stuff.

Tenna left RC at the ripe age of 16, leaving Ling (Lin) in the process but no hate. It was a mutual break up. Ling wanted to keep RC safe and promised Tenna that everything would still be up and running whenever she wanted to settle down.

Tenna fell in love with an air acolyte (whom I haven't decided to name as of yet) and stayed there for a year before the world called for her once more. It was a short but painful romance, one that Tenna often thinks about.

Once she was back on the road she fell in love with a non bender (Not Peng yet), got pregnant and went to RC for Air Temple Island. She stayed on the island for a few years raising her newborn son Jin.

Ling helped with all he could, being there for Tenna, taking care of her and feeding her and dealing with her grumpiness. He took care of her and once the baby was born, Ling knew he would protect the child as if he were the one to help make the baby.

Tenna couldn't have thanked Ling enough and felt horrible she was "holding him back" from finding his true love. Ling wanted to confess right then and there that he loved her but knew it wasn't the right time.

During the time of the whole pregnancy and the raising of Jin, Ling and Tenna fell into a romance. Stealing kisses, sharing deep secrets, touches that crossed the very thin line of friendship.

It wasn't until Jin started talking and walking that Tenna thought it would be a great time to start exploring the world. Jin barely being the age of 3 or 4. Ling confessed to her that he loves her and that she wished she'd stay for him but told her it was a selfish request. He instead kissed her goodbye and told her to look at the Northern Lights for her on one of her trips. Tenna never felt such sadness and sorrow but she promised to keep in touch. She watched as Ling got smaller and smaller as the boat began to leave the harbor and leave behind her very best friend and lover.

Sorry friends but this is where imma stop it before I bore you! Let me know if you want more Headcanons or if you want more art of this fine wine of a milf!

Send me asks, or ask simply in the comments or Dms about any of this au. I'm happy to reply and I'm excited to say that I'll be posting here regularly soon! And you know of course that there's gonna be more Lin Beifong art so prepare yourselves!

As usual, all art belongs to me. If reposted please credit. Thank you!

[proseka-headcanons]

hi hi! just wanted to rant a bit about my fav ships <3

AKIKASA where they're both pining on each other but Tsukasa is dense and Akito is in denial like why of all people i have a crush on him?? what the fuck aint no way in hell. but tsukasa's love language is touch and he likes to hug an unexpecting Akito and at first Akito would freeze up but slowly he started hesitantly hugs back and hides his face in Tsukasa's neck to hide his flaming red face...

RUITOYA where Toya for some reason always crosses path with his eccentric yet nice senpai for some reason and always felt his cheeks heating up when he's around Rui and Rui who knows he has a crush on Toya and knows Toya has a crush on him but decided not to say anything just because he loves seeing Toya all flustered. where Toya would often visit Rui on the rooftop to watch him work on his latest invention, and they would talk or stay in a comfortable silence. where Toya would smile brightly and Rui could only watch with widened eyes as he wishes that one day he can call Toya his.

MIZUAN where they always hang out after school either going clothes shopping or to the arcade, and An always reassuring Mizuki when she's insecure, using her Students Committee benefits to defend Mizuki from her bullies and trading her ribbon with Mizuki's tie to make her feel better. and Mizuki is slowly growing a crush on this determined and kind-hearted girl and An's already small crush on Mizuki grew as time passes. where when something bad happens to either of them, seeing the other would instantly make their days better, if just a bit.

ENAIRI where they have a crush on each other since long ago and they're basically the childhood friends to lovers troop. where Airi would always compliments Ena's drawings and Ena always goes to Airi's concerts. and everytime they touch each other they started blushing madly to the point that even Akito kept pushing her sister to confess. where when they're together it's just them hanging out and then half way both of them realized "wait oh god i'm hanging out with my crush fuck-" and their faces would turn as red as tomatoes.

ICHISHIHO where Ichika slowly fell first and Shiho fell harder. where they spend hours after classes to play their guitar and bass and tuning it, or syncing with each other, or they discuss what songs to sing next for their concerts. where Ichika would softly hum while playing his guitar and Shiho would watch silently in awe, not believing his eyes bc why is his friend so fuckin handsome and oh god he's heart is beating fast-

HONAKANA where it's just- so domestic. where Honami instead of usually once a week and for work now went to Kanade's home at every chances she got and its not for work anymore, bringing him homemade apple pies and they would spend hours just enjoying each other's presence over tea and pies. where Kanade would show Honami some of his songs that he's working on, where Honami would eventually show Kanade some of her songs and they would now make songs together. where Honami staying over is now a normal thing, where Kanade finally starts going out more just to meet up with Honami who'll show him some of the best places for apple pies and CD records.

...and Nene Kusanagi, who has to put up with all of their slow-burn and pining shits. because after all, the reason they all kissed in the end, is because HE PLAYS MATCH MAKER FOR ALL OF THEM-

(Nene who bought himself a new console game to celebrate the fact he managed to get all his friends together)

i can literally go on about any of them but this is long enough and my fingers fuckin hurts-

as Nene (real) I would do this - 🎮

i would not do this bc i am the real akito shinonome, i would know (he would do that) - 🥞

I just woke up so I cannot brain but hell yeaj I love gay people -🦈

AIRIENA I agree - mod ena

[stxrmylxve]

GLAD I MET YOU.

A/N: bro i actually started to tear up at the end istg AH but I like this, I hope you do too 🙏

PAIRING: dabi x fem!reader

NOTES: friends to lovers, minor cussing, mentions of dabi’s burns, vague spoilers but not really? (about the origin of his burns), heavy topics, slight angst ends with a happy ending~

Dabi glanced at your slumped figure, rolling his eyes as he tuned back in what your brother was talking about. You sat next to his side, slumped over with a sigh every so often as you watched tv.

Normally, you would have been on your phone, but your brother had the strict policy of ‘no phones’ when Dabi was over. Who knows why. Your brother always said it was because ‘Dabi is older so he deserves more respect’. He’s only older by 2 years.

You glanced at the taller man beside your brother, eyeing his shiny staples with curiosity. He had never gone into depth about exactly what had happened, though you had never expected to since it had seemed to have also been a rough memory.

You had known him since you were little, even going to the extent of calling eachother ‘bestfriends’. It never broke apart persay, but the closeness just…faded. Your brother came into the mix and took Dabi away from you even more, which still kinda pisses you off even to this day.

A small chuckle and a confused expression on your brother’s face pulled you out of your thoughts as a faint blush formed on your face, drawing your eyes away from Dabi’s smug face.

“Wha’cha lookin’ at?” he asks teasingly, grinning at the huff as you got up and walked to the kitchen. He always teased you like this!

You let out a small sigh as your gripped the corner of the countertop, calming your beating heart the best you could as you listened to the shuffling from the other room. Assuming nothing of it, you turned around and walked to the sink, playing with the cold water before washing your hands.

A familiar arm wrapped around your waist, pulling a yelp out of you as you whipped around.

“I’m not that scary, am I?” Dabi jokes as he brushes a stray hair behind your ear, nonchalantly letting go of you as he reached past you to grab a glass.

“No, you’re not. You just surprised me, that’s all.” you say sheepishly as he eyes you suspiciously, contemplating questioning you about your rosy cheeks before deciding not to, filling his glass with water before walking away silently.

What the hell was that? You ask yourself as you dry your hands, walking back to the living room in a bit of a daze as you sit back down next to your brother. You glance nervously at Dabi, only to meet his hazy ones, which had secretly already been on you since you had walked in the room again.

“You alright?” your brother asks momentarily as you shifted under his gaze, nodding before curling up again to watch tv. Though your eyes were beginning to become heavy from lack of sleep, you couldn’t bring yourself to be the first one to go to bed. But, sleep did the work for you and pulled you into a slumber right there on the couch instead.

~

“She normally like that?”

A deep voice brought you back to reality as you rubbed your eyes groggily. The sun was like fire against your skin as it poured through your window, waking you up much quicker than normal.

“It’s her thing, who knows.”

You groaned as a sharp pain shot up through your back, reminding you how bad it always was to sleep on the couch like that. You rubbed the spot momentarily before hopping up and walking into the kitchen, asuming it was your brother on the phone talking to someone since Dabi never stayed overnight.

Oh how wrong you were, because as you walked out in your Hello Kitty tanktop and (very short) shorts, his wandering eyes landed on your figure, a hint of surprise mixed with smugness clouding them over.

“Morning.” he says, his voice still raspy from the early morning as he got up and walked past you with a small smile. Your face turned beet red as you ran back to your room, shutting the door and cupping your face as you slid down the back of it with a squeal.

There was a while of muffled conversation on the other side of the door before a soft knock chimed through your room. You got up and opened the door awkwardly, coming face-to-face with Dabi himself.

”Time to go out, get ready.” he says blankly, staring past you into your room as his eyes darted around to take in everything.

“To where?” you ask, wandering off into your room to find better clothes than what you currently had on.

“ ‘Dunno.” he shrugs, walking into the room and sitting on the bed before laying back. You blink as you set your shoes to the side, deciding to go get ready in the bathroom instead of your bedroom.

“What happened with your face, dabi..?” you ask quietly, more of thinking out loud instead of directly asking him.

“I did it to myself, I guess.” he responds, catching you off guard as you peek around the frame of the door with a quizzical look.

“I’m going to assume that is a bluff to the real reason?” you ask, setting your stuff down before walking back into your bedroom, sitting down next to him on the bed with a small bounce.

“Not really. My quirk.. uhm.. I wasn’t the best with it previously.” he says, tracing the string lights around your room with a bored stare.

You just nodded, hesitantly asking “does it hurt? still?” as you lowered your hand with a frown.

“No.” he replies, turning his head to look at you. His eyes looked so… warm.. yet so cold at the same time.

You reached a hand up and traced over his cheek, giggling to yourself as he closed his eyes, a low purr-like sound coming from his throat. He is just like a cat.

“You used to be an ass, you know? When my brother came into your life, he brought all of his shitty friends.. it ruined you for a while, you know? But I’m glad you changed, and that you changed him. I’m just…” you sniffled a little bit, making Dabi open his eyes as he reached a hand up to cup your cheek, “I’m glad I met you.”

He offered a small grunt as he sat up, pressing a peck on your forehead as he pulled you into his lap, bear-hugging you with a smile.

”No, I’m glad I met you.”

Specialty for @kelin-is-writing

(btw do ya want it in ur masterlist???)

[frequentlysecondo]

Smudged Mirrors

|| Tl;dr Morning routine softness with Secondo. :) This is just an older work from my ao3 that I thought I would bring over here!

There are many terrible things in this world. The shrill blare of an alarm clock ripping you from your dreams among the worst offenders. Waking to find that the bed has already gone empty and cold, another. The entire room felt quiet and solemn as if it too was mourning the absence of your beloved. The thick blankets quickly grew too cold to be comfortable any longer and remnants of sleep still clung to your senses as you slowly sat up with a renewed dedication to seek out a new source of warmth.

The scent of spiced soap and a lingering mist from the shower wafted through the partially open bathroom door, a testament to Secondo’s stubborn refusal to sleep in on nearly any day. It was a gentle reminder of the countless mornings when you had woken up together, the sound of falling water mingling with laughter and shared tenderness.

After attempting to gather your thoughts, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and made your way towards the bathroom, the rhythmic sound of falling water growing louder with each step. The antique wooden wardrobe looked untouched as you passed by it. You paused to pull out Secondo’s Papal robes and the cassock he often preferred to wear underneath before folding them neatly on the bed and continuing on. Upon pushing the door open, you were met with the sight of steam billowing around the room, cloaking the space in a misty haze.

“I may be aging but I’m not deaf yet. I can still hear your attempts to sneak up on me, amore mio.” Even with his back turned towards you, you could hear the smirk in his voice despite his stern tone. Water droplets still dribbled over his skin as he moved while the steam swirled around him, seemingly dancing in tune with a silent melody.

“I would’ve thought all those concerts would’ve done you in.”

Secondo paid no mind to your witty comment, instead continuing on as if he hadn’t been interrupted at all.

“Were you sleeping well? You didn’t budge when I got up.”

“I was. That is until I was left alone in the arctic cold of silk sheets.” Your retort came with maybe a little more sass than necessary as you lifted yourself to sit on the counter.

Secondo hummed softly, the deep rumble building in his chest as he leaned over to thread his fingers through your messy bed head.

“Hmmm. I suspect you’ll survive, you appear plenty lively to me.” His words were muffled against your hair as he pressed a kiss on the top of your head. For once you decided to remain quiet when you felt him smile against you.

After a few silent minutes, Secondo pulled away to return to his routine and you quickly grew bored. You twisted around, leaning in closer to the water covered mirror and reached a hand out to draw a shape against its reflective surface. Only after you had placed your initials next to a small heart were you interrupted.

“Those stay there, you know. Smudges, after the fog is gone.” He grumbled softly before swiping a razor against his cheek once more. His eyes only flickered to you before refocusing on the task of shaving. The dedication to precision and attention to detail were always present, even in the simplest of moments. A roll of your eyes was the only reaction you gave in to. Secondo had always been much more of a perfectionist, although it was admittedly respectable.

Pulling back from the mirror, you gracefully slipped off your perch on the counter and moved closer to him, pressing a kiss against each freshly shaven cheek. The morning routine had become a dance between the two of you, a choreography of sweet gestures and affectionate exchanges.

“Are you absolutely sure you need to go to work? And so early?” It was the same familiar question you asked him at least once a week, and that tiny sliver of hope in your voice that the ever so serious older man would take off work remained every time.

“Si, I am entirely sure. Has my answer ever changed?” Secondo’s unfaltering response only prompts you to lean back against his shoulder and clasp your hands to your chest, feigning being fatally wounded. There is a sigh at your dramatics, a kiss pressed against your temple before being waved off once more.

“You have your own work to attend to, piantagrane. Go.” You finally accepted being shooed off after a few more lingering kisses, good byes murmured softly in each other's ears before leaving the former Papa be to finish getting ready for the day yourself.

By the time you had returned to the bathroom with the intention of using up all the remaining hot water for yourself, Secondo was gone from the room. As to be expected, but still disappointing. While setting your own towels down atop the granite counter, you couldn’t help but to glance back at the small smears you had earlier left along the surface of the mirror. Papa was right, the fog had dissipated and left behind streaks of smudging. Except now it was impossible to ignore the small, cursive initials ‘S.E’ that had appeared opposite of your own.

[corvidclaws]

hi yes just gotta ask anyway we could get a lil more info on that cult leader creek au? cause i am very curious about the content there! it seems really interesting :)

(by we i mean me i am desperate for this theres an evil vibe here and i LOVE the energy whichever way its goin)

hello!! a couple people have asked me this so heres a summary for the au!

the entire au is based on the idea of creek surviving the end of trolls 1, and finding the putt putt trolls.

he shows up at the “abandoned golf course”, and is welcomed with open arms since all they know about him was that he somehow survived being kidnapped by bergans. him and clay become very close, and creek gives clay the matching cross earings i always draw them with as some type of ‘promise’ jewelry, signifying that theyll always be togther.

as creek lives with the putt putt trolls, rumor starts going around about creek surviving the bergans. as rumors often do, the story gets twisted as its passed between people and the putt putt trolls start saying he survived the bergens because he could talk to the ancestors and they helped him survive and escape.

this makes creek begin to develop a god complex, and as time goes on he becomes obsessed with making the putt putt trolls worship him, and he does everything in his power to make them believe he is truely connected to the ancestors/gods. he takes this so far that he begins to believe his own lies, and he is convinced he can actually talk to the ancestors.

he turns what used to be a community of survivor trolls into cult, deticated to worshiping him because of his connection to the ancestors. he manipulated them into doing that by telling everyone it was the only way to get the ancestors to stop the bergens from finding the golf course.

he manipulates clay into believing hes an angel, by telling him that he survived the great bergen attack because the ancestors knew they were destined to meet later in life. clay has his doubts, but at this point hes so blindly in love with creek he believes him. clay becomes his right hand man, and does pretty much anything he asks him to because he believes he was destined to protect him.

viva obviously has her doubts too, and she has a small group of trolls who are also non believers. but as time goes on, creek manages to convince everyone except for her to worship him. after seeing everything and everyone she loves changed by creek and his cult, she decides to leave the golf course, in an attempt to find poppy and discover the truth about creek.

thats a basic introduction to the au!!!! we have alot planned for it so stay tuned!! (an entire fanfic is on the way…. tho it may take a while…..)

tysm for all the support on our au!?!? im genuinely shocked so many ppl have interest in it….

heres another thing, the designs for clay and creek!! im working on actual refs too im jus lazy teehee

[thevikingwoman]

Couldn't get the thought of Meryta and Tansui having a fling out of my head, so here we are. Stormblood spoilers.

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV | Words: 2085 | Read on Ao3

After freeing Isari village and Gosetsu, the group decides to stay the night for a celebration in the village. The Warrior of Light; finds brief relief in the arms of kindred spirit Tansui.

Meryta Khatin x Tansui | After MSQ Tide Goes In, Imperials Go Out Rating: Explict. Sexual content, outdoors sex, fling, au ra scale sensitivity headcanons, slight timeline divergence, ode to Tansui's hair I guess

Under Familiar Stars

Someone has lit a bonfire at the beach, and there are plenty of people drinking and bragging, a release after the dread of oppression. Kicking the Empire out of their waters, and Isari, feels good, and she suspects especially for the Confederacy to feel at home in their own waters again. The wounded taken care of, and the fighters resting, many have chosen to remain here for the evening rather than return to Onokoro.

Their gambit worked, and it’s not as if she’s surprised – it had to work, but that it worked so well is very good. It would have been better had they captured the viceroy, but all in all the outcome is as good as she can hope for.

She walks through the people on the beach, young pirates and villagers sitting in the sand. Someone has pulled out a Shamisen and plays a happy tune, someone else is singing along.

Neither Lyse, Alisaie, or Gostetsu are with them, and perhaps they’ve already made their way to the beds the innkeep offered. They’re setting out early next morning; it was only on Alisaie’s insistence Gotsetsu relented to take a night’s rest.

She checks the porch in front of the inn, and she doesn’t find them there, and not many other people. Most have joined the revelry at the beach. She does find Tansui, leaning against the railing, an empty cup in his hands.

“Meryta,” he says.

“Tansui.”

She comes to stand next to him.

“So, things did work out for you. Mark you, I’m glad it did, you and the little Miss’s plan.”

“It had to work,” Meryta replies. “And you all did your part, too.”

“Only after –” he pauses, and looks directly at her. “Is that how things are for you? Just…” He snaps his fingers and gestures vaguely.

She thinks over the question. She does impossible things, with the crystal’s blessing and all that comes with it, whether she understands it or not. Another day and another primal dispersed. But not just that, and she thinks of Aymeric drawing his bow against Estinien possessed without a pause, about Papalymo telling her to leave, Ysayle falling from the sky. The dead bodies at Rhaelgar’s Reach and the blood in her mouth as Zenos rounded on her. (She doesn’t think of Haruchefant, dead on walkway, the fading light in his eyes)

“Not at all,” she says. But the truth is; they’ve won enough, whether in the crystals light or by the whim of an old dragon. “Sometimes. Often enough,” she amends.

“I can’t believe it. Glad am I you came here.”

The wind blows freshly from the seas. Tansui’s braid has loosened, the purple strands whipping about his nape. She tied her own hair back again earlier, a mess after the storms called by the Lord of Revel. She has the sudden desire to unravel his more, to see it falling loosely around his face, to run her fingers through it.

“Walk with me,” she says on impulse. She’ll miss him, and the boldness of his convictions.

They descend the stairs from the inn together, and walk away from the village and the people. The air smells like sea and salt. They reach the shore, the sea lapping at their feet.

“The Ruby Seas are yours,” Meryta says, gesturing to the dark waves. It’s incidental to why they’re here, but she’s happy it turned out this way. Despite their initial distance, she finds she likes the Confederacy pirates. The Ruby Tithe seems a way to maintain a balance here, but mostly they are just a comfortable and uncomplicated group.

“At least until the Empire turns it’s gaze upon us again.”

“Hopefully not too soon. We need security at our backs for what we need to do.”

Hopefully the Empire and the Viceroy will never gain a foothold here again, and they’ll succeed in all they need to do. For Lyse. For Raubahn. For Yugiri and her people.

“Did you bring me here to demand more from us?”

“No, just for a walk. I’m but thankful for all you did, and I’m glad you were here.”

“Were you now,” Tansui says, and he smiles. Meryta looks away.

Together they make it up from the beach towards the grass and trees. They talk quietly about the Confederacy and the delicate balance of nations around the Ruby Seas, and how the Garleans disturbed it, scorching all in their path. They meander their way past the fishing huts and up in the hills behind.  She tells a little of Eorzea and her adventures, but mostly she turns the conversation to the Ruby Seas and the rhythm of the land and sea.

Mertya looks up and the stars are familiar, constellations in sky aligned in well-known positions from her childhood. The constellations are the same, but their placements in the sky are different half a world away. They’ve fallen silent now, Tansui follows her gaze up at the heavens.

She can’t help looking back at him, her eyes roaming down his neck and his chest, his haori sliding to reveal more of it. There’s a thin line of blood with a bruise blooming around it which she didn’t notice before. It’s likely the nick of sword.

“You’re injured,” she murmurs. Unbidden, she reaches for him. She doesn’t have much aether left from all the ordeals today, but perhaps she has enough, reaching for those stars above –

“Nothing serious.” Tansui smiles at her, his dark eyes tender in the moonlight. “There’s no need, unless - is that an excuse to touch me?”

She places her whole hand on his chest.

“Perhaps.”

The crisp air stills, and they’re alone, far from everyone else and Tansui’s hands land on her hips. He bends his head as she reaches up, both of them drawn to the spark between them. His lips are chapped, tasting like sea salt and battle, his beard delightfully rough against her skin. She groans and draws him closer, slipping her hands around his neck. They kiss hungrily, deeper, and she buries her hands in his hair, her desire to unravel it still in her mind.

Panting, they lean their foreheads against each other. She toys with hairs at his nape and leans in again, kissing him slower this time, savoring the taste of him. She brings her lips to his jaw, his beard scratching her lips, and she groans when his fingers carefully slide along her horns.

“Meryta, come. Let us celebrate our victory beneath the stars.”

There’s a question in his eyes, and when she nods, he leads them a little further uphill, then spreads his haoki on the ground, and pulls her down with him for a lazy kiss on the ground.

He has her undressed shortly, where they lay, and his hands are on her, tracing her scales across her hips and her belly. His touch is firm and bold, and she can’t help the sigh that escapes her as she reaches for him. His chest is firm and warm, old scars and new bruises. She makes short work of his pants too, the sea air embracing them.

She kisses him, and puts her fingers through his hair, finally unraveling it completely. Tansui’s hands wander back around her waist, and she gasps when one of them finds the base of her tail and strokes. He grins and does it again, his other hand cupping her sex.

“You do like that, hm?”

“Yes,” she hisses, hands roaming his body without focus. All she can feel is him, stroking the sensitive scales at the base of tail, now gripping the top of it, letting go. His other hand is busy too, finding the wetness between her legs. She gasps and she wants, grateful for a lover who’s been with an auri before, someone without shyness or questions.

He slides one finger between her slit, finding her clit. Another adds pressure, and she bucks her hips towards him. Her own hands slide lower, through the coarse hair on Tansui’s belly, following its trail lower still. Her fingers brush against his cock and it’s his turn to groan. Pleased, she takes him in hand, pushing herself towards him once more. She almost let go of him when he slides one finger into her, and his other hand down and up her tail.

“Please, Tansui,” she gasps, her hips tilting, seeking his hand, his fingers inside of her.

Instead of granting her what she wants, he grasps her tail firmly around the base, his hand almost wide enough to circle it, and he holds her in place as his other hand withdraws, featherlight strokes to tease her. She whines in frustration and claws at his hips, trying to pull him closer.

“Tell me, what do you want, Meryta?” he smirks, his breath thankfully still a bit strained.

Her cunt clenches around nothing, the fire of need building in her. Frantic, manic, and suddenly her ears are ringing, filled with the laughter of the Lord of Revel. She summoned him, and slayed him, all within today, and she needs and she wants and she’s here on their clothes spread beneath the stars.

She wrenches herself free, and moves them, putting Tansui on his back with her above him. He looks dazed and flushed.

“I want you, Tansui.”  He lets out a little laugh at that, and she hovers above him, letting her slick coat his cock. “Do you want me?”

He nods, his hands on her waist now, but he doesn’t pull her down, waiting on her, letting her tease him now. Her impatience burns in her though, and she lowers herself on him, only a bit careful to adjust to him, letting him fill her, relishing in the fullness inside of her.

She moves slowly, at the pace she wants, drawing gasps from him. His hair is fanned out beneath him, almost evenly dark in the moonlight, the purple only a tone of grey. Tansui puts his hands between them, grinning as he finds her clit again.

Meryta rides him faster, his dark eyes never leaving hers. Even like this, his fingers are skilled and confident, his other hand caressing the sensitive scales on her hip. She tries to hold on a little longer, but she can’t, her orgasm washes over her, inevitable like the ocean far behind them.

“Beautiful,” Tansui whispers, “no, don’t close them!”

Meryta manages to keep her eyes open, but she sways and slumps in the aftershocks. Tansui’s strong arms catch her, and suddenly she’s on the ground beneath him, staring up at him, his hair in a curtain around his face.

“May I go on?” he asks, his voice rough. He accentuates with a small thrust of his hips. She gasps and nods and it’s enough for him as he moves faster, his eyes hungry. She sighs as he moves into her, swollen and sensitive, a pleasant feeling with no urgency. She’s free to observe him, how his veins strain in his neck, how he gasps and – unfairly, squeezes his eyes shut when as he comes, collapsing on top of her with her name on his lips.

They kiss, and Tansui rolls off her, cleaning them both with a scrap of fabric found somewhere, his calloused hands gentle and careful.

Without need for words, they curl into each other, and fall asleep beneath the stars.

     --

It’s a short walk back to the village the next morning – much shorter than she expected and she’s thankful an early riser didn’t stumble upon them.

“There you are,” Alisaie says when she sees her, buckling her pack. “I was afraid we’d have to send out a search party.”

Meryta’s cheeks heat, and she ducks her head. “The inn was too crowded.”

Alisaie eyes narrows, focusing on the pirate behind Meryta, and then she smiles, far too innocent.

“I normally leave diplomacy and it’s intricacies to my brother, but I’m certainly glad we could arrive at a mutual beneficial conclusion.”

Meryta sputters and busies herself finding her travelling coat and packing her gear. She’s saved from further discussion when Gosetsu bellows from below, his rightful impatience showing. They all hurry outside for their final goodbyes.

“As Rasho said, our fates are intertwined. I do hope our future cooperations will be fruitful.”

Tansui addresses them all, but his gaze lingers on her, and when they get on their way, his hand brushes against her arm. She winks at him, one more levity before they return to their journey and grave task ahead.

[riality-check]

So no pressure at all intended, but am I allowed to ask for Appalachian!Eddie headcanons? Or Steddie headcanons with a ✨️ sprinkle ✨️ of Appalachian!Eddie? Or Appalachian Munson Family headcanons! You've awoken a beast in me that craves this version of Eddie. 🥰

Yes, of course!! I'm physically incapable of shutting up about this, so you giving me an excuse to talk about it is wonderful. I'm going to take this in a slightly different direction and talk about all the Munson Family Lore (TM) that I couldn't necessarily fit into the first chapter of the big ass Eddie backstory, but it is all canon in my brain and my little universe.

(I promise I'm working on getting chapter 2 up!)

Anyway, in no particular order, have some of My Thoughts (started out as family lore and devolved into Steddie. I'm all over the place, it seems!):

Both of Eddie's parents are originally from West Virginia.

They had Eddie at 16 and dropped out of high school.

They had a quick courthouse wedding when they were 17. Wayne was one of the witnesses, and Eddie's mom's sister was the other one. They jokingly asked the judge if Eddie, six months old and dressed in a tiny suit-patterned onesie, could be one of the witnesses when Wayne was running late.

Eddie's dad's side of the family is Baptist, and his mom's side is Jewish. Neither one of them are particularly observant, so Eddie grows up with holidays as more cultural/family traditions, rather than religious ones.

His mom's family did not approve of the marriage. They thought his dad was up to no good. His mom doesn't really talk to her family after that.

There is a Reason(TM) why Wayne and Eddie's dad don't talk. Yes, it's a spoiler.

Wayne is about ten years older than Eddie's dad. He enlisted in the Army as soon as he turned 18 and was shipped off to Korea. When he came back, years after he got plopped back in the States, because he had to piece himself back together, he sees that his little brother dropped out of high school and has a wife (not legally, not yet) and a baby on the way.

Wayne and Eddie's dad's father was a coal miner. He also just sucked as a person, and he died when Wayne was around 17, so he didn't feel as guilty for leaving.

Wayne was a truck driver for years before he settled in Hawkins. He starts off doing construction there before he starts working at the plant.

Both of Eddie's parents are addicts. They tried their best, but they absolutely were not equipped to handle a kid.

All hail Dolly Parton. That's it, that's the thought. Eddie's parents (and Wayne) love Dolly. And a bunch of other old school country artists, like Loretta Lynn, Johnny Cash, and Willie Nelson. They just sort of get it.

Eddie's got an accent, but from state-hopping so much as a kid, it sounds more pan-Appalachian than anything else. His parents keep their vernacular from West Virginia, but they'll change it up for wherever they're staying. Anything to not draw attention to the fact that they're new in town, anything to keep a low profile.

Eddie likes reading Twain books. They're not written in his dialect, but he thinks it's cool that they're written in dialect at all. They're really fun to read out loud.

Eddie can't, for the life of him, say "tobacco." And I wrote a fic about it.

Eddie's mom called him all sorts of pet names growing up, but the one she used most often was "sugar." Eddie's dad was the only person who called him "Ed."

Neither one of Eddie's parents could carry a tune in a bucket, but that never stopped them from singing to him growing up. Wayne can't sing, either, but he doesn't try.

Steve thinks Eddie's accent is cool and also hot.

Eddie thinks it's a little bit funny when Steve can't understand conversations between him and Wayne. They talk so fast and the vowels and vocab are different and he is lost. Eddie will fill him in after, though.

Eddie's accent automatically kicks in when he sings lullabies.

Eddie's dad's name is John, and his mom's name is Rebecca.

"Edward" was the only first name the two of them could agree on, though they never call Eddie that, and his middle name is his father's name.

That's all I have off the top of my head! Everything else is kind of a spoiler, so I'm avoiding talking about it, at least until I get more chapters of the big ass Eddie backstory out. Thank you so much for asking, this was so much fun for me!!

[l0rd-0f-c0ws]

I traced the strings back to YOU, the missfire creator, and now I have two things to say.

1) THIS SHIP IS SO WONDERFUL EUGHHGFDHGFGFG OH MYGOD 3RD EYE OPENED. Thank you so much for throwing this rarepair in my radar.

2) Do you have any missfire/cesium headcanons?? I'd LOVE to hear some :3c

I FINALLY HAVE GOTTEN MY BRAIN TO WORK ENOUGH TO ANSWER THIS HI HI HI HELLO :) I am in fact no the creator tho that would be @soupsy-daisy who wrote This fic!! I just got VERY autistic about the pairing and was the first person to suggest a name for them (I am the cesium person idr who came up with missfire rn but its also v cute :) )

as for headcanons here are some !!! (Under the cut for those who don't want to see my rambles :) )

Miss Pauling has (somewhat) learned all the languages the Mercs know! this was a job requirement as she had to make sure they weren't keeping secrets, but she does enjoy it. Pyro CAN speak they just don't like taking off their mask nor do they like shouting for people to be able to hear them (legit i have a friend who tried playing dnd in one of those and half the time he had to yell so i could hear him right next to me), so they use sign and writing stuff down to communicate a lot. She was the first person to be able to understand pyro using ASL and she was the one to encourage the team to learn.

Pyro has cronic pain (mecore) and often has flare ups after battles pretty often, and it makes it hard for them to move and shit because Their Legs are being Taken by the Demons. They tend to just try and power through despite feeling like their muscles are attacking them and refuse to tell medic because they feel like they'll just be dismissed as dramatic. While the other mercs have noticed something is up with Pyro when they get back to base most days, no one pushes them to hard on it since theyre always quick to deny any oddities in their behavior, but Ms. P knows because well... its her job to know. She did get them to go to medic and get pain meds to help, as well as laying down with them when its gets to be too much. she also got them a cane not long after to help them out as well as some cute stickers and stuff to decorate it with :)

Pauling hates loud noises if she doesn't feel she has any control over them (Mecore again). like a gunshot? eh half the time shes the one firing the gun, and if she isn't then soon she will be. But things like people suddenly shouting when she didn't expect it, thunder and fireworks, stuff like that will just really mess her up. Pyro is pretty neutral on loud noises like that (tho they LOVE thunder and storms in general) so typically they'll go find her and just sit down and enjoy the silence together away from that

its actually pyros love of storms that helps her enjoy them herself. I have to draw out my idea for this since its a very spesific gay little moment but she basically over their time together begins to associate rain with them and without realizing it starts to get just as excited about rain too :)

I can post some more hcs later but a lot of the ones I had to stop myself from posting are gonna be kinda mentioned in some fics im working on rn >:) Gonna finish chapter 2 of safe with me tonight hopefully so stay tuned for that!!

[moonleeai]

My Moon

“ARMY Birthday Bash” BWHQ Fic Gifting Event

🖤 Written for Sara🖤

➢ Fic Pairing: Vampire Jin x Human Namjoon ➢ First Person POV ➢ AU: Vampires ➢ Rating: MA 🔞 ➢ WC: 5,371 ➢ Genre: Fluff, Smut, Angst ➢ Trope: Strangers to Lovers ➢ Requested details: angsty vampire story ➢ Warnings: M x M sex, cursing, pain, blood drinking, obsession, forced vampirism

A/N: Thank you Jasz @downbad4yoongi , Leah @colormepurplex2, and Kari sunkissedwriter for beta reading and helping shape this story for Sara!!

Summary: Seokjin hides his vampire identity in a sleepy town as a restaurateur. He spends his time living off animals and creating to die for meals until a new handsome face comes to town. Like the moon loves the sky, there is an instant attraction, but Seokjin may be too much.

🌙🌙🖤🩸🖤🌙🌙

Living as a modern-day vampire is simple and fun. Nowadays, no one cares if you’re a vampire as long as you’re not trying to kill them. They also don’t want to see or hear about how I satiate my hunger. My body has adapted to being in the sun and living off more than just human blood. My powers have weakened some, but I can still use my levitation and greater strength whenever I need. I don’t use them too often because I want to fit in and act as human as possible.

Becoming a butcher in disguise at a trendy eatery is my most clever façade yet. Kosmos, nestled between plenty of pretty coffee and pastry cafes, is my haven, so to speak, my safe place where I can fit in with the crowd. A delicatessen with a condo above it, a rooftop deck, and a large garden in the back. I found this sleepy but safe town along the Baltic Sea when I fled my last city from vampire hunters. I quickly became named the most handsome man with a sleek and classy aesthetic delicatessen, where I sell sliced meats and creative dishes. 

Human blood became boring to me ages ago. The hunt for wild animals is much more thrilling but also has much less risk than hunting humans. I tame my violet eyes by thriving off animal blood, something I’ve been doing longer than I can remember. In the restaurant, I can slaughter and cook the most exquisite meals, satiating my deepest cravings. I only open Kosmos four days a week, staying open well into the late hours and spending the other evenings hunting and experimenting with new dishes. 

Tonight is busier than usual. In an effort to liven up the area, the town council brought in a new art gallery, and from the talks of everyone, there’s a fetching curator as well. Kosmos happens to be the closest eatery, drawing many patrons in after they’ve visited the gallery. The artwork descriptions are fascinating, but the person they describe sounds much more intriguing. Tall, broad, drop-dead dapper; all words I’ve only heard folks using on myself. I'm a bit jealous of all the attention this new curator is getting, so I must see him for myself.

Instead of my usual day hunting, I decide to take a gander at the art gallery. Everyone is correct. The tall, burly man that greets the guests is devastatingly beautiful. I am possessed by his loveliness which leads me to spend countless days taking peeks from the sidewalk inside the small space through the large Crittall-style window. The art keeps the people busy enough not to notice me lurking day after day. 

Tonight, out of curiosity, I follow the new man. He rides a bicycle slowly and seems to enjoy the small-town views. With earbuds, he hums along to a tune I cannot hear. His apartment building is nice. A stunning yellow two-story home with dark accents and a maroon roof aside a cobblestone path. Outside of the front door, somehow within the cracks of the stones, are robust red flower bushes that rest along the house perimeter.

I perch myself on the roof of the home across the street and have a perfect view of this gorgeous man. I watch as he relaxes with a glass of whiskey and reads a book until he’s cleaning up and going upstairs. A bedroom light shines dimly through the upstairs window, completely unobscured. I stare as he undresses, removing his clothing, rough and messy, and tossing them onto the floor. As he turns off the light and lies in bed, the moon casts a perfect glow onto his silhouette. His chest slowly rising and falling is soothing. 

So soothing that time passes too quickly, and before I know it, the sun is rising. Today, I will make my existence known and visit this dreamy man at his gallery. Slowly but surely, I will make him fall in love with me and want to live eternally by my side. 

When I arrive at the art gallery, the man is occupied with a few guests, so I walk around aimlessly. Black hair compliments his warm honey skin under a white shirt tucked into cream slacks. While conversing with others, his dimples shoot daggers into hearts, and his deep voice soothes the sharp pain. 

“Hello, I’m Namjoon,” his deep voice boasts. As if I haven’t been watching his every move, I feign startled when he arrives by my side. His chocolate eyes pierce my dead soul within seconds.

“Seokjin,” I reply, flashing my sultry grin while extending my hand to grasp his in a handshake. His scent is warm and inviting…a soft rose with a hint of jasmine, something I now wish to smell endlessly.

“What do you think? These are ones I’ve collected over the years.”

“I’m not much on art… just wanted to check out the newest talk of the town.” My eyes roam his tall, brawny frame, and a subtle blush blooms on his cheeks.

“There are no right or wrong answers when it comes to art,” Namjoon says while placing a hand on my shoulder and guiding me to another piece. “This one is by Yun Hyong-keun. Inspired by nature, he combined colors like those of earth and water tones.  He would spread the pigments over days, weeks, or even months to create intense darkness, implicative of the hardships he endured.” 

Not only is this man beautiful, but he is also intelligent. His eyes gleam as he speaks of the artist. 

“You got all that from looking at a painting?” Namjoon chuckles at my ignorance. “Do you do any painting yourself?” His eyes turn dark, and it looks like he’s deep in thought when he finally responds with a side grin. He nods his head to a side door and begins walking toward it, so I follow.

Namjoon slides the door open, holding it for me to pass through, and then closes it behind us. The dark room has a few paintings with a single dim spotlight casting over each piece. 

“These are my personal works,” Namjoon says.

There aren’t many colors, all gray, black, and red. A deep vibrant red. He tells me about a few of the pieces. The first one is like a window; two large black rectangles enclosed by a thick, vivid scarlet border. Hazy with muddy edges where the colors bleed together. There’s another canvas with a frail, ghostly white being against a black background smeared in red hues. At first glance, one may perceive that it’s a dress, but I see blood pouring over the body. Both are labeled as ‘Untitled’.

My favorite, though… displays interesting shadowy woods. The smudging of the paint looks like thick fog around grayish tree trunks. What’s fascinating is the leaves are clusters of red dots, bright and burgundy shades, creating a beautiful depth while also looking like blood splatter. 

I listen intently as Namjoon explains his art. Aside from his brawns and brains, his voice is hypnotic. I find myself stuck watching his mouth, his tongue bouncing around, forming each word perfectly. I subconsciously draw my bottom lip between my teeth, concentrating on his alluring mouth.

“You’re quite handsome; you know that?” Namjoon speaks, breaking me from my thoughts.

“I know, I never get old.” I wink, and Namjoon chuckles, clearly amused by my antics.

“Would you…maybe… like to spend more time together?” Namjoon asks, and I find the shyness of his words endearing. 

“I’d love that.” I reach for his hands and rub my thumbs over his knuckles. Namjoon notes my touch is cold but never pulls away. I know my heart would be shaking in my chest if it still beat, but it sits frozen in my ribcage as it has for centuries.

🌙🌙🖤🩸🖤🌙🌙

For our first date, we meet at a coffee shop. Quaint, relaxed, and the most refreshing iced Americanos. We both wear our version of casual attire. Namjoon’s slate-gray t-shirt is devilishly low, the v-cut plunging between his perky chesticles, hugging his biceps tightly. My eyes drift, following the curves he has on display; I don’t care if I get caught, either. The conversation is easy, steady. Small talk and casual getting to know each other. My mind is set on one thing…making him my lover…my forever, in just three lunar phases. I just need to tell him I’m a vampire.

On the next date, we take a stroll through architecture-filled historical sites and gardens with maps and pamphlets in one hand and our other hands busy with interlocked fingers. If my cold hands ever bother him, he never mentions it. We steal glances of each other every second we can. Here in the botanical garden, surrounded by lush trees with leafy branches, the weather is perfect, and flowers are in full bloom. Next to a pond is a gazebo where we find a bench to rest and hold hands. Listening to the birds sing around us, we talk and learn more about each other. I decide to tell him about my uniqueness. 

“There’s something I need to tell you, and I really hope it doesn’t scare you away.”

Namjoon turns toward me, giving his full attention.

“I’m just going to say it… no sugar coating… no—”

“Just say it,” Namjoon interrupts, his eyes frantically searching for clues as his heartbeat speeds up.

“I-- I’m-- a vampire.” I wince at the words shutting my eyes tight. When I hear no sounds, I peek through my eyelids, confronted by dimples. “I’m serious, Namjoon. I should’ve told you sooner, but—” My words are cut off by Namjoon’s finger delicately placed on my lips.

“Can I say I kind of knew?”

Confused, I reply, “You… knew?”

“Your skin is perfect porcelain, and you have the coldest touch. You dress more dapper than most our age. I’ve seen your violet eyes… and don’t get me started on your very interesting butcher hobby. Need I say more?”

“And that…none of that scared you away?”

Namjoon tightens his hands around mine. “I’ve never felt more smitten…more ensnared to a person like I am with you. A vampire, a wolf, or a bear…I’d still find you insanely attractive, and dare I say, I’d love you the same.”

“Love?” I feel like I’m hearing things, Namjoon really loves me already. “We’re like two volcanoes talking together then.” 

Namjoon scrunches his eyebrows. “What?”

“I lava you, too.” After we both laugh like windshield wipers on dry glass, I lean in and kiss his cheek. A huge weight lifted from my shoulders; now I know he will spend forever with me. 

🌙🌙🖤🩸🖤🌙🌙

I plan our third date wisely. I am yearning to be close to him, so we go to the Forest of Wisdom, an hour’s drive with thoughtful conversation and getting to know more about each other. He tells me he’s always been fascinated with vampires and their abilities. Much as to why his art is mostly black and red, aligning with my original impression of blood splatter. To my surprise, he has a vast knowledge and is very calm talking about vampires. Namjoon and I find seats on the floor, and he reads me a book of poems with our shoulders pressed together.

“Ah this one, by Alexandra Vasiliu…’I want to bloom in your arms like the moon blooms in the night’s arms.’ I love that.”

I stare at his chestnut orbs, reading over the words in a loop, watching his eyebrows furrow while he’s lost in thought. I look to the next page and read, “‘If I were the moon, I would want you to be my sky.’ Namjoon, I think I shall call you my moon.”

“I’d like that,” Namjoon coos, snuggling into my side.

Quickly I’m learning Namjoon’s pleasures. He enjoys touch, and I feel his infatuation grow as he sneaks light touches in disguise of picking or brushing lint balls off my shirt. I catch him staring quite often, obviously entranced by my ethereal beauty.

On the way back, seated in the car, his baggy shorts hike up to his mid-thigh. With one hand on the steering wheel and the other on his thigh, I move his shorts upward a bit more and feel his warmth under my icy palm. He shivers but places his hand on top of mine, keeping me there.

🌙🌙🖤🩸🖤🌙🌙

Tonight, Namjoon wants to try cooking, making something delicious together. This, I’m a master at. I close Kosmos for the night and teach him everything I know. He brought an expensive bottle of whiskey that we share most of the night, and I show him different techniques with knives. I leave him to cut an onion and carrot while I whisk the sauce; things happen so quickly I can’t remember the order in which they occur. A thud and a gasp from Namjoon, and then a smell that overwhelms my senses. My eyes flash violet, and I am next to Namjoon within seconds. I reach for his hand and bring it to my mouth, letting the droplets of blood fall on my tongue. He tastes like syrupy butterscotch. My eyes roll to the back of my head as a growl escapes my throat.

Fangs threatening to appear, I pull his hand away and pull him into me, close. “Are you okay, my moon?”

He pulls away and studies my eyes. “Kiss me,” he whispers.

Confused, I stay still, but his lips crash into mine. My cock throbs as he explores my mouth with his tongue, giving me a taste of his whiskey breath, a mixture of barley and vanilla.

“Let me get you upstairs to tend to your cut.” I lead him to the stairs up into my home and sit him on the couch while I go to get the first aid kit. I dab some ointment on and place a band-aid over the cut. Namjoon places a hand behind my head and brings me into another kiss that I can’t resist. Who would want to? 

He moans into my mouth before breaking the kiss, “That was fucking hot… the way you licked my wound.”

I sit back against the couch. Carefully watching this mountain of a man remove his shirt and press his body into mine. My eyebrows arch at his boldness.

“Your heart is racing,” I note while tracing my hand over his chest, riling goosebumps.

“Do you want to taste more?” Namjoon mewls, pecking my lips fiercely.

“What are you suggesting?”

“You like blood, and I have what you like. I’ll try new things… for you.” Namjoon’s eyes long for acceptance. Who am I to turn away his desire to please me? Especially if it lets me taste his saccharine blood again.

My breath gets caught in my throat, admiring his body as he tilts his head to the side to expose his neck. He leans closer and deeply whispers, “Bite me.”

My head spins at the words, lips barely brushing his skin as one of his hands firmly grips my inner thigh. The pounding of his heart sends shock waves through my body, and my cock strains against my pants. Namjoon eagerly climbs into my lap and entangles his fingers in my hair, yanking my head back to make eye contact.

“I don’t want to hurt you; a bite is painful,” I warn, giving Namjoon a chance to change his mind.

“Pain is pleasure, Seokjin. Do it. Bite me.”

I smirk, lick my lips, and dig my frosty fingers into his waist before pushing my mouth onto his plump lips. I trail my tongue to his neck and suck for a moment before my fangs appear and scrape against his skin. One moan from Namjoon and my fangs sink into his skin like a warm knife through butter. My eyes loll with ecstasy flowing through my body.

“Ah, fuck,” Namjoon groans, and his body squirms in discomfort. But as I swallow a tongue-full of blood, I withdraw my fangs and soothe the painful punctures. I suck again, grunting when his hips grind down on mine, hissing into his neck at the touch of his clothed bulge against mine. His soft whines turn me on further, lost in his soul as I take more blood, coating every crevice of my mouth. Human blood has never tasted this good; I need to control myself.

I feel blood dribble down my chin, and I pull away from him, fascinated by the maroon rivulets that flow down his neck toward his chest. I’ve never seen anything more erotic than him dripping with blood, lips turned in a pout, and asking for more. I watch, amused, as blood trickles down to his nipple, begging for my mouth. Latching onto him, I gently suck his nipple into my mouth and then lick up the blood trail, my tongue grazing his skin back up to the puncture marks. The marks will heal before the night ends, leaving just a bruise.

“Seokjin,” my name plummets from his lips in a soft gasp, his hips bucking into mine. “Touch me,” Namjoon pleads. His thumb runs over my lip to collect stray blood before pushing his thumb into my mouth. I suck on his thumb and pull from it, making a popping sound, then move my hands to his waist. He stands while I tug his pants and briefs off. He tugs at my pants, and I lift my hips off the couch as he eases them to my knees, my aching cock hitting my stomach.

Namjoon straddles me again, licks his lips, and presses his plush lips into mine. I kiss him back, moaning when he nips my bottom lip, tongue tangling with his as he deepens the kiss. His large hands grip my shoulders as he slides his cock against mine and rests his forehead on my shoulder. I fight the urge to sink my teeth into him again.

I fuck my cock against Namjoon’s, swipe my hand over our tips, and spread the precum over our shafts, squeezing them both with one hand. It doesn’t cover us both, but it’s enough friction to feel good, too good. I stroke us at various paces until Namjoon’s body tenses. I can feel he’s ready to burst.

“Cum all over me, paint my stomach,” I encourage him with my tongue in his mouth. Namjoon shakes, and hot cum spurts onto my stomach. He lowers his head and sinks his teeth into my shoulder as he rides out his high, hips stuttering and starting to slow.

His bite sends me over the edge, and I groan as my cum explodes and mixes with his. He deepens another kiss, pressing his body into the stickiness between us. We stay like this until our breathing slows, caressing each other. Namjoon sighs and grabs his shirt, wiping us off and cleaning my stomach.

“We should do this again sometime,” Namjoon praises before climbing off me and finding his clothes.

“Stay,” I say, a little more pleading than I intend. Namjoon smiles and drops his clothes back to their place on the floor.

🌙🌙🖤🩸🖤🌙🌙

The next morning, when I come back from my hunting, Namjoon is gone. I go to his home and find my place on the roof across the street and watch him through the window. This time, he’s painting. A black and gray scheme with a walking path between rocky hills and skinny bare trees. He dips his brush in red and paints a huge circle in the middle, a blood moon. Then he’s back to black, stroking lines into a figure of a person with a cape blowing in the wind. The finishing touch, though…I’m not sure what to make of it. He dips his brush in the white and creates a sword in the person’s hand. An individual with a silver-looking sword walking toward a blood moon.

I don’t think Namjoon knows or understands what the meaning of a blood moon is for vampires. My desire for blood is boosted times a thousand, which usually causes conflict for my kind. People become more aware of vampire existence during the blood moon, and therefore I, as well as others, are faced with imminent threats and conflicts.

I’ll tuck this in the back of my mind for a later conversation because, again, the time has quickly passed, and the sun is setting. On my way back to my place, a great idea sparks my mind to have Namjoon willingly agree to be my eternal lover. He loves plants and the outdoors, so I will create a garden for him. Something he can look forward to maintaining for all eternity. 

In between spending time with Namjoon, I spend the next few weeks preparing, finding, and importing exotic, fully bloomed night flowers and plants for a moon garden where I will confess my love and propose an immortal life together. Purple fountain grass that rustles in the breeze. Plenty of flowers to shine under the moonlight like the fragrant iceberg rose, giving off fruit and honey scents. White wonder caladium with its green edges and pink veins throughout the white leaf. Clusters of phlox, jasmine, and moon flowers with their lemony perfume. 

I use pebbles and white marble chips to create a crescent design on the ground. A small waterfall provides the soothing sound of running water and reflects the moonlight. In the middle of it all, a makeshift bed with comforters and pillows. This is where I will ask Namjoon to be my eternal lover and hear him beg me to turn him into an immortal like me. Here is where we will confess our love and be one with each other for time without end. I even set up an easel with a canvas and all the art supplies he could possibly need to paint boundless pictures of the garden.

Namjoon arrives for our evening together dressed casually elegant. A loose-fitting cream, cashmere sweater with a polo neck paired with black weaved leather pants. His style puts mine to shame with my white satin button-down shirt tucked liberally into black slacks. After sharing a meal and tender touches, I tell him I have a surprise. I’m nervous and have to hide my shaking hands as I blindfold him and take his hand, carefully guiding him outside into the garden I created out of love. I remove his blindfold, and he inhales sharply. While he takes in every detail, I watch the stars twinkle in his coffee-colored eyes. 

“A moon garden… for my moon.” I point to the area with the painting supplies and then shove my hands in my pockets, “and all the things for you to let out your creativity.” Waiting for his response, my stomach flips, thinking how close I am to spending an eternity with him.

“It's ethereal and perfect, just like you.” Namjoon kisses me deeply, holding the back of my head with one hand. Pulling away, he murmurs, “I love it.” 

I slot my lips with his and suck his lower lip between my teeth; feeling greedy, I declare, "I want to ruin you and make you mine for eternity." My brain short-circuits, and all subtleness is out the door. Namjoon tenses, then he simply grins at the statement.

“Ruin me, Seokjin,” he whimpers.

Namjoon glows under the full moon, and I am eager to make him mine. Standing next to the garden bed, I trace my hands along his mountainous ridges. I listen to his coos and swallow them as they escape from his throat. We tear at each other's pants, and he tugs roughly on my blouse, sending buttons soaring in opposite directions. I moan in response to both his passion and his palm caressing my confined cock. Free of our imprisonments, I lower him onto the blankets, surrounded by pillows. 

Namjoon’s eyebrows rise for a quick second before relaxing again. “Your eyes, they’re exquisite.” I drop my head to his neck, acting shy of his compliment, and sprinkle his skin with kisses. Is this when I ask him? No, not yet.

I feel Namjoon reaching for something, so I glance toward his hand. He’s pulling a bottle of lube from his pants pocket. I look into his eyes and wait for him to say something.

“Ruin me. Bite me. Make me yours.” Namjoon’s words have blood rushing to my cock, and I rut against his rock-hard thigh. 

“Your wish is my desire.”

“What are you? A genie?” 

I drench my fingers along with Namjoon's hole with the lube. Carefully, I push one finger past his rim, taking my time to loosen him up for me, showering him with gentle kisses... for now. "Is this okay?" I ask while dragging my teeth over his prickled skin.

"More, Seokjin, please," his whine spirals into my ear, sending a thrill down my spine. I insert another finger, praising him with words and soft suckles along his neck. I linger over his vein, letting it pulsate on my tongue. The throbbing on my tongue excites me more, and my hips rock, pushing my swelling cock into his leg again.

"More," he breathes. 

"My moon. You're so good for me," I moan low and soothe his tense body with my lips.

“Bite me, Seokjin, please. I need more–” his words are cut off by his moans.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, please…” he begs continuously, almost in tears. I gaze at his body’s slight movements, his chest heaving, before I sink my fangs into his succulent neck. His butterscotch blood fills my mouth immediately, and Namjoon hisses as I swallow. I pump my fingers quicker, scissoring them as I swallow more nectar.

"I'm ready, please. I can't wait any longer."

I pull away, hide my fangs and drown myself in more lube. I watch his blood trail onto his shoulder and slowly press my girth into him. His sounds, oh his sounds. If I didn't have centuries of self-control, I would've cum already.

"Seokjin–ah– you're s–so big. Go–ah–slow, please, please, please, slow," Namjoon begs as his body writhes underneath me.

Slowly, my cock bottoms out inside Namjoon, and I pause, allowing him to breathe through it. I press my lips on his and use my tongue to part his lips, tangling our tongues, numbing his mind from the sting of the stretch.

"So good, my moon. You're doing so so good." My cock throbs inside his tight muscle. "Mmmm, can you feel that?" I subtly move my hips and swallow each mewl he makes. I pull my face away and look into his eyes as I drag my cock slowly out of him and push back in a little quicker. His glassy eyes flutter, and I raise my hand to his cheek, brushing away a single tear with my thumb. "Shhh, it's going to feel so good. I promise."

The garden fills with moans and pants as I drag my cock slowly against Namjoon's walls, licking from his collarbone to his shoulder, getting every last drop. I cage his head with my arms and quicken my pace, watching and feeling how his body reacts to me. He ruts his cock against my stomach, seeking any kind of friction.

"Fuck. Yes, like that," Namjoon moans, his back arching off the makeshift bed of blankets. His ass swallows my cock so deliciously; it’s a torturous pleasure.

I rise to my knees, unsheathing myself, and a whimper escapes Namjoon's lips. I pull his hips to my waist, and his shoulder blades rest on the ground. I maneuver a pillow under his hips before turning my attention to his raging pink cock with pre-cum that glistens in the moonlight. I spit in my hand, then caress his thick length, smearing it around and mixing it with his fluids. His body shakes with pleasure, all for my eyes. I take my other hand and squeeze his throat before following his perfectly sculpted lines down his chest and to his abs. I abandon the lube and align myself with his hole, entering slowly and as deep as I can.

Namjoon rasps a deep, stuttered moan as he pushes his ass into me. I stroke his cock rhythmically with my thrusts until he releases his warm arousal onto my hand and all over his stomach. I slow, only to finish depleting his every last drop, then press my hand firmly against his stomach, smearing the sticky substance. He smells of jasmine and honey, like the flowers around us, I immediately want to taste it. 

I bring my hand to my mouth and lick his remnants, growling in pleasure. This excites Namjoon, and he clenches around my cock. I gasp and feel my cock twitch inside him. The moonlight highlights every bead of sweat on Namjoon's torso as I pump furiously inside him. His accentuated plump veins and arteries, with his breathless sobs, are the push I need to find my release. Head falling back, I roll over the edge and fill him with my release. My body crumbles on top of him, and I slow my hips milking my cock to completion. I place my arms on either side of his head, soaking in his beauty, feeling drunk on love. 

I kiss him wildly and then lazily lift myself and roll to his side as he wraps his arms around me. I run my hand over Namjoon's hair and tuck it behind his ear, basking in an afterglow.

But as we lock eyes, I sense something is off with my love. He’s next to me but seems so far away. My chest tightens.

“Everything…okay?”

“Why did you do all this for me? This garden with beautiful plants and a perfect view under the moon?”

“Because I love you, Namjoon. I want to be with you forever and make you the happiest—” I didn’t want to ask him to be my immortal partner this way, laying next to each other, naked, half covered in blankets.

“Happiest… what?” 

“Well, you already know so much about vampires, and you seem really fascinated with them, so I—I don’t know. I was hoping you’d maybe want to be one… with me.”

Namjoon’s lips move, but no words come out. 

“Have you ever thought about what it’d be like?” I ask, trying to pry words from him.

“No,” he answers quickly.

“Oh—okay…Wh—what about being with me? For good?”

“Why couldn’t I stay human?” Namjoon abruptly sits up and grabs for his clothes. Dressing frantically while I rush to do the same.

“I mean, I just thought we could be together…endlessly. It would hurt too much to watch you age and leave me.”

“I don’t want to give up my human life,” Namjoon nearly whispers, and I can feel the uncertainty of the future weighing heavily on his mind.

“Why? What can be better than eternal life with me? Your true love?”

“I—I want to experience life…I don’t want to be stuck here forever…” Namjoon sputters. 

“But you can see the world. Every country, every food, enjoy owning the rarest items or plants…” I try to reason with him, calm his worries even.

“I don’t want to survive off blood and watch the world pass me by!” Namjoon yells, and the blood I’ve stored in my body begins to boil. My eyes feel different, I can feel them change, but it’s not the same. “Your eyes, they’re a reddish tint.”

My anger boils through my limbs, and I lurch toward Namjoon. He runs behind the easel and picks up a paintbrush, angling the handle toward me like he wants to stab me. “Stop! Don’t come any closer!” Namjoon shouts, trying to keep me at bay.

“I’ll have you, no matter what!” 

I use my power and conquer him, sinking my fangs into his neck, this time, not letting go. My entire strength is used to subdue him and drink his blood. The difference is I don’t stop. Not until I feel a cold, black cloud surround me. I drank just enough to leave Namjoon alive but unconscious next to me.  I bite my wrist and open his mouth, squeezing drops of my blood into his mouth and coax his throat to help him swallow.

I have never wanted anyone this badly; this is the only way that will make him stay with me forever. I kiss his lips and lay patiently by his side, awaiting my new eternal lover to awaken to our new life.

[entesi]

A Proper Introduction

Self ship blog: entesi-selfship

Art blog: enttesi

Antis DNI

Hey there everyone! I was inspired by some friends to finally make a new introduction post, this one for me and my system. I am an endogenic soulbond system named the Dragon Soulbond System. I am married to my in-system spouse Vandarian, and we plan on sharing more of us and our system together!

About Our Relationship

Vandarian and I have been together since the 29th of December 2015 and married in May 8th 2018 (this is a guess since we were going through trauma at the time and don’t remember our exact marriage date) and we have three beautiful soulbond children! I’ve been host to a soulbond system since I was very young but didn’t know until recently that I was part of a system or what it was called, I just called things my own words until I learnt of the term soulbond and endogenic systems. I feel so much happier being able to connect to my soulbonds in a better way which is awesome! We thought we’d make a proper post for everyone to know about us :)

Stay tuned for our Carrd page that describes our experiences on being a soulbond system and how we met! This post will be edited with the link when it’s finished

Art by Physis Phyo on Facebook!

More about us is below!

About Me

Noven Hethreku | 24 | He/they

I am Noven Hethreku, but you can also call me Dragon or Entesi. I am a disabled, queer, autistic dragonkin boy from Australia who is a digital artist and character designer. I am obsessed with dragons and cats, and I love drawing characters based off of them and also other creatures that I like. I am a practitioning psychic and medium and I often practice my magical abilities with my soulbonds. I am in the process of making things such as a webcomic and a video game and I want to make content for people to feel happy about and see what I like to make. I try to draw where I can and when I want to I often commission others for art of me and my soulbonds. I treasure my soulbonds very deeply and I’m so happy to be able to share them with you guys!

If you want to see some of my other soulbonds, you can check my F/O and soulbonds page here!

I am always happy to talk about soulbonds! Feel free to send me messages or asks about them

About Van

Vandarian Rintzu Bluuven | 26 | They/them or fae/faer, occasionally he/him

I apologise for the old art, this is the only full reference I have of them that I’ve drawn, but I plan on redrawing them!

Vandarian is my spouse. They are from a species of alien called Bluuven (they don’t like being called alien by most people though as it has bad memories tied to it) and they are two years older than me. They are incredibly intelligent and can build almost any sort of technology, and can also grow sweet plants with their magic. They’re very sassy and have a lot of energy, and they’re very protective of me and my soulbonds. Van has DID, schizophrenia, autism, PTSD, anxiety and depression, and we help each other through the things that are upsetting us. They are very talented at many things such as dancing and singing, and they love showing off for others by looking good and showing that they’re very talented in the stuff they can do. They have tentacles in their back and they have mind reading abilities which are both from their species but they also have some unique abilities other members of their species don’t have. They are an absolute sweetheart and make me so happy

We are always happy to talk about our soulbond experiences so long as you’re being friendly so please feel free to ask us about stuff or share your own soulbond stuff! We always love meeting other soulbonds systems and we would love to see you guys if you want to chat! We give a big thank you to @liya-system for inspiring us to make this post for you guys so you guys can see what we’re like! Please let us know if you need anything

We hope you guys are happy!

[emeritus-fuckers]

Ooooh a match-up event! I've never submitted for something like this, so im very excited...

1. Hey, I'm Jay! I am a 28 y/o Transmasc Non-binary, He/Him/They. Im Achillian Biromantic AceFlux (I'm Bi, with a heavy preference towards men. I love my men twinky and sassy and my women strong. Also my sexuality I joke is [Under Construction]-) and I am a bottom leaning switch.

2. Papas and Ghouls!

3. I am 5'10" (average to tall height depending on who you ask), I am heavy, with long lashes and brown eyes and short curly brunette/blonde hair (It looks brown most of the time but I've been old its technically blonde?) My hair is short around the back and sides and fades into being longer and fluffy on top. My preference for dressing ranges from Soft Boi to Victorian.

4. I consider myself a Soft Boi (tm). Im a fun mix of opinionated and full of anxiety. If I trust you, I'll talk your ear off, otherwise I assume you do not want to hear me- I'm the type of person who matches energies for the most part. If you're excited, I'm excited! If your chilling, I'm chilling. I am always ready and wanting to lend a helping hand and show my love through physical touch and acts of service. My friends also say I am a humanized Golden Retriever.

5. I love to draw, I actually have a degree in illustration! I hope to one day be able to work as a full time freelance artist! I also love to roleplay, and I love Dungeon's and Dragons. I also love video games, Books (queer romance is my favorite genre, which is expanded 10 fold for space or fantasy pieces). My music taste is hard to pin down, but I usually go to Musical Theatre/Show tunes and then like pop punk / pop rock (My 3 top bands are Ghost, Mariana's Trench, and 3 Days Grace if that helps).

6. Other Trivia. I am AuDHD. Im messy but organized. My favorite animals are Dogs (Golden Retrievers especially) and Foxes. I am a maximalist who holds onto everything, very sentimental in that regard. I work as an Admin (Fancy Secretary).

Thank you in advanced!

This post is part of the 1000 followers match up event. Entries for the event are now closed.

Your match is...Phantom

Phantom is so sweet, you can't help but trust him. Xey saw you and just kinda ran over to you. It was practically jumping up and down on the spot he was so excited to meet you properly and talk to you.

They are very chatty and then you started opening up and talking more. You just kinda chat away happily all day.

Swiss fondly says you are both like puppies, golden retriever puppies. He'll often say this while patting Phantom on the head and then grinning at you.

You both show your love through physical touch. Phantom is very affectionate. Xey'll crawl onto your lap on an evening and just kinda stay there. Cuddling you and kissing you.

It'll nuzzle into you and want to stay like that all night. If you try and get up he'll give you puppy dog eyes and kiss you some more. You have to point out to them that you just want to go and lie down in bed with him. It practically sprints past you and jumps into bed before holding you close to xem.

He will also kiss you a lot, at any point any time. If it sees you they will run over and kiss you.

If xey see you drawing he'll kiss your neck and face as encouragement then try and leave you be for a bit. It thinks your art is amazing and they want to support you in anyway he can.

~

Written by Nyx edited by Jez

[straykidsnerd255]

Hi! Sorry to bother, but can I request a match-up for Saint Seiya Lost Canvas if you still make them?

I am female, average height, more on the softer side in terms of body type. Not overweight, but not exactly fit either.

I have straight brown hair in a short bob with a side bang, and big, doe-like brown eyes. My complection is pale.

I'm an Aquarius Sun, Scorpio Moon, Taurus Rising and Pisces Venus. I'm also an INFP.

As for my personality, I'd describe myself as a calm and collected person, someone who isn't afraid to be in charge of things and make things done when needed, even when I'd prefer not to.

I'm also an artsy person, since I like to write, draw and sing pretty often. I also have a PhD in Arts, and want to work in the field of creative writing.

Lately I've been facing a lot of personal problems (I will not go into details) that made me a bit harsher on the outside, and I don't trust people easily, even tho I try to be friendly with everyone. This experience has made me realize that being a bit egoistic isn't totally wrong, tho.

Overall, I'd say I'm a determined, indipendent and mature person, with a knack for daydreaming and creativity.

Sorry for the long message, thank you in advance if you will answer the request, and sorry if there are any errors in this, but I'm not an english native speaker (I'm from Italy)

Thank you for your time 💕

Of course, I still do match-ups! Sorry, this came out soooo late! I just had no desire to write anything. So I hope this makes up for that! 

I match you with LEO REGULUS

He is an absolute sunshine and will do anything to make sure you are well taken care of. He loved everything about you. The good and the bad. When you are having a bad day and you are just not in the mood to do anything but sit on the couch, he is by your side and holding your hand in his. He starts listing off everything that he loves about you and then starts making sappy remarks to see the smile on your lips tug-free. When something happens and you don’t want to tell him, he doesn’t push you for details. He will simply pull you into his chest and runs his fingers through your hair, telling you that everything will be okay and that we will always stay by your side.

When you are drawing or painting or coloring or anything really, he is sitting near and watching you with big doe eyes. He’s always complimenting you and telling you how much he loves everything about it. He will go into detail about how much he loves your artwork and won’t let you downplay anything. 

“Darling, you should showcase your art. People would love to see it.” He is down bad for you and will shout it to the world. He is very in tune with you as well. If you don’t want to be somewhere, he is taking your hand in his and walking away from wherever you both are and will ask where you would rather be. If you both are at a party and you tug on his shirt and ask if you can go home, he is swiftly saying his goodbyes to his friend and walking out with you. 

Expect lots of cuddles with Regulus. Because you are on the softer side, he loves to cuddle with you. You are now his pillow and he will cuddle up to you whenever he gets the chance. He is such a sweetheart when he cuddles with you too. He will ask if you are comfortable with him cuddling you all the time. When you tell him that you love cuddling with him, he sets a time every day that you both just stay at home and cuddle. He loves it when you can let go of everything and just smile brightly. 

He is also the definition of ‘Touch her and you die” to anyone who doesn’t respect your wishes. Regulus is a golden retriever boyfriend but will become a bodyguard if he has to. His favorite thing about you is your smile; how it brightens up your entire face and always makes him smile just as brightly. He finds it calming when you both are just outside the Leo house watching the others race around, birds chirping, and the summer air warming you all. He especially loves it when you are in the middle of writing or drawing and he hears you mumble something to yourself. He’s so in love with you that it isn’t even funny.

[misssakuramochi]

hey!! if it's alright, i'd like to request for a one piece matchup?

my name is mika, i use she/they pronouns, i am an infj-t, and i have no preference when it comes to what gender i'm put with! i am reserved, anxious, naturally pessimistic yet hopeful at the same time, i can actually be very outspoken and wild out in public (like doing weird stuff while out and about), and i tend to get lost in thought about the things i enjoy.

i like rock and indie music, i play electric guitar, i write and draw, and scroll through tumblr for hours to look at fanart and headcanons of my silly little loser guys (blorbos)

when i was in kindergarten, i ate sand from the sandbox once and i sometimes still taste it in my mouth, after all these years lol

anyways that's it really! tysm for having these matchups open, i was looking crazy hard for open ones but i couldn't find one until this godsend of a blog spawned in my radar <3 ty and have a good rest of your day

I match you with...

FRANKY

○ While you can be reserved, you come across as having a high-energy, spontaneous nature at your core. You just need someone to draw it out of you. Franky is perfect for that. With his own wild antics any and everywhere, he makes you feel comfortable being yourself. The two of you have a lot of fun together

○ Franky has a way of making you feel like everything will work out, even at your most anxious. Not only is he actually great at giving advice (he's been through a lot deep down, and he's learned a lot too) but he's so self assured all the time you can't help but actually start to hope for the best

○ Creative minds get along well, and while you're creative in different areas, it still draws you together. You love talking about both of your current fixations and projects

○ Franky thinks it's the cutest thing when you get lost in thought. He does it too, and he can always tell the difference between a happy and not so happy lost in thought, as to know of he should just leave you to your peace.

HEADCANONS

○ Franky BEGS you to play guitar so he can make sick entrances. He thinks you're metal as fuck. He's your biggest supporter and forever backup singer as he will make up songs to go with every tune you play.

○ Franky respects that you're more introverted with your thoughts and need time to process. He's very happy to just sit and tinker on machines relatively quietly while you do your own thing, but he does love to be around you whenever he can be.

○ Franky makes you things all the time. Most often it's little replicas of your Blorbos, or other things related. He tries really hard to make sure he makes things relevant to your interests

○ Franky's favourite thing in the world is to make you laugh. He knows how hard it can be to stay positive, and he wants to be the brightest light he reasonably can be in your life. He's always pulling stupid stunts to get a giggle.

○ BONUS! You mention the sand thing to Luffy. He tries sand. Gets very upset when he finds out its not I'm fact edible, and also does not taste good. How could you trick him like that. Smh. /j

---

TYSM for requesting! I'm glad you found my blog too! Thanks for your patience and I hope you like your match!!

-mochi

[milune-vox]

The Dawn of Redeeming Grace (chapter 1)

(Hello Dreamling shippers, I come with an offering) (Continuation of the Dreamling present time meeting) next chapter You can also read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43003029/chapters/108048981

Chapter 1:

  It was but another day on Earth, in the year of our Lord 2022. A human being was seated on a chair, relaxing after a long day teaching young minds at a university nearby. He was sipping on a beverage whose recipe had rippled across centuries, shifting through time but staying the same at its core, much like he himself had. As per his habit, stacks of homework crowded his table, and he was going through them at a rapid rate, red pencil scratching and underlying and crossing and leaving snarky comments in the margins.

He read, tapping the rhythm of an old, forgotten tune on the table: “Shakespeare was a man who knew how to use words to describe things well,” and snorted. Circling the sentence, he wrote: “a most eloquent description. Worthy of the man himself.” On another, with writing so dreadful it almost made his eyes bleed, he took the time to note: “Honest work, maybe do it with your glasses on next time, I know you think, I quote, that they “give you the look of a deceased ferret,” but one; however creative, it is not a fair analogy, give yourself more credit. Two; if you don’t start wearing them I’ll be the one in need of glasses soon, and three; seriously, it pains me to have to remove credit for this.”

Going through a peculiarly obscure work in which the student had obviously used Wikipedia blindly, he was frowning in disappointment when he suddenly felt eyes on him. He raised his own at the man in front of him, and it took him a moment to understand what he was seeing, and react accordingly.

Bloody hell, FINALLY, was the one resounding thought in his mind, blanking out any others. The blue eyes, the pouty lips, the modern look still dark and broody. His stranger, after all this time, here, now. An overwhelming joy grows steadily in his chest and the following words cross his lips, a playful, barely heated thing, like his eternal companion had just made him wait a few minutes at most:

“You’re late.”

This smile of his. He had never smiled this way before. Free, unbidden, genuine. A thing of ethereal beauty. Hob couldn't believe his eyes, the sight too good to be true.

“I apologise. I’ve always heard it is quite impolite to keep one’s friends waiting.”

He couldn't believe his ears either, turns out. If he had been less in control of his emotions, he would have been reduced to a sobbing mess right now.

His nameless stranger… No, his nameless friend sits across the table from him, and Hob is still trying to process the overwhelming relief and warmth he is flooded with as the mysterious man stands back in his chair, his posture relaxed, a warmth in his eyes that pushes him to once again question the reality of it all. It is not a dream, however, he can tell—this is too marvellously tangible and precise and it makes him feel as giddy as a child. In the golden hue of the light, his divine features glow, a relished, chiselled perfection. He had tried so often along the years to keep them from escaping memory through recollection, the occasional attempt at drawing and painting. Any such attempt feels foolish now. It was nothing like what he sees there, his imagination and memory paling significantly in face of the real thing. His friend seems… less pale, more human, in a way, in this century, in this light, with this fond expression warming his features… Hob can’t help but chuckle in disbelief, slightly shaking his head.

Oh, this moment is delicious, he absent-mindedly comments in his heart, tentatively leaning forward on the table, and resting his chin in his palm like a lovestruck fool.

In all his years, there have been a few moments of pure joy which he kept close to his heart, to hold on to in the grieviest hours. He can now add this moment to the list.

“I am glad you could make it this time, my friend.”, he says, beaming so wildly he feels his vision blurring with happy tears.

He should feel silly, and he does, to be letting himself feel so strongly after the deep hurt his friend's rebuke had imparted to him, but one hundred and thirty years is a long time to hold a grudge, and he is now more relieved, unquantifiably so, to see him than anything else. Yes. Maybe he will not have to face eternity as alone as he had thought he would be. Maybe they could share the tiniest bit of forever together, still.

“I hope you find this place to be a worthy replacement from our usual hang, I am afraid it got closed a little bit after, well, 1989…”

His mystical stranger’s expression dims slightly, and a melancholic cloud looms over his beautiful face. Hob’s smile dims in kind, a weed of worry crawling inside his chest, instinct whispering of hurt and doom. A group of young people enters the inn and he pays them no mind, their boisterous laughter does nothing to fill the silence between them. A few seconds pass before his friend carefully says in this low, velvety tone Hob has so dearly missed listening to:

“Believe that I would have made it to our appointment, had I not been…”

He stops there, at a loss for words, with a faraway look, and Hob furrows his eyebrows in concern. Definitely, a lot had changed since last they met, and clearly, there was something wrong about this whole thing. In a flash, his friend’s words make him recall the warning he’d heeded in the eighteenth century ‘You can still be hurt, or captured’.

“Something happened,” he guesses tentatively, afraid of setting the ire he knows him capable of since their last meeting.

Slowly, his friend nods. He does not look him in the eyes. Hob feels a heaviness grow and sit on his chest, weighing him down, turning his body to lead. He fears to know the truth of it, he fears to push too far. However, most importantly, he wishes nothing but to tend and care and this instinct wins out, for he manages to ask softly:

“Are you alright, my friend?”

“Dream. You can call me Dream.”

And that was… not the answer he expected. His immortal heart misses a bit. He stares in confusion. His friend has the gall to look amused, and after a beat in which he seems to delight in Hob’s dumbstruck expression, he adds mercifully:

“I go by many names. Some know me as Morpheus… My most truthful name would be Dream of the Endless.”

Morpheus… Like the Greek god of sleep? Was he talking to a god?... Dream. Dream… Dream, Dream, Dream. His excitement at finally knowing his friend’s name grows and surges in his chest with the overwhelming strength of a tsunami. Hob doesn’t have a clue what it all means, truly, but he nods, a puzzled, delighted expression probably showing on his face, torn between the sheer joy of finally having a name other than stranger, and now friend, for the one being who has been a constant in his immortal life, and the thorough concern he is feeling at the thought of… Dream coming to harm. Because this is all that it was, wasn’t it? An attempt at deflecting his question? And why else would he escape it so?

“Dream,” he tries, and it sounds so much like an endearment, and maybe it is, in his mouth. He watches the rapt attention his friend gives him at the call of his name, the sparkle in his blue eyes, uncanny, like the light isn’t reflected but instead is coming from within. It is terribly bare, vulnerable, to be but a human under this unfathomable gaze, he thinks. He feels holy reverence from centuries past trying to bring him down to his knees in a posture of worship. He isn’t sure this would fare very well with his friend, nor would it fare very well with who Hob’s grown to be. He settles back in his seat, breathes in, out, and continues:

“Dream… Thank you.”

His friend smiles at him, a small thing which warms his heart and brings him back to his original concern. He must know for sure, cannot take a cowardly path out of heavier topics. At least, not until he’s been well and truly rebuked. He has to make sure Dream knows he can speak to him. This is what friends are for. This is what Hob is for.

“Do you wish to talk of… what it is that kept you away?”

“No.”

Dream answers too quickly, his voice harsher and louder, removed from its usual whispery quality, but then instantly recoils, and seems ashamed of his outburst, looking down at the table, hands clenched together in a tight grip, an all too human gesture Hob has never seen in him before. He feels a lump in his throat at the sight. His centennial companion has this faraway, haunted look he has seen on many others before, especially during and after the horrors of the world wars. Something bad happened to his friend, this he knows to be true, and a part of him screams in anger and despair. He doesn’t show it though, and simply leans in very slowly, very gently, and places his hand on the table not too far from the pale hands, not daring to touch them but trying to convey a sense of comfort with their proximity anyway. Dream finally seems to notice, for his eyes focus back on him, and the lingering redness and shine slightly dissolves from his eyes.

“Not yet,” he says with more softness, and adds in a murmur, glancing towards the window, the afternoon light and the chirping birds: “Later, perhaps.”

An instant passes, contemplative, and then, his face relaxes again as he, in turn, leans forward and crowds the space separating them, saying with a small, damning smirk:

“I am here to hear about you, Hob Gadling. How did these last one hundred and thirty years treat you, my friend?”

Hob is feeling all sorts of things at the way Dream says his name, and calls him his friend, and looks at him with those starry eyes of his, of which he sees every individual eyelashes with their new found closeness, and the delight of it so pure and strong he feels dizzy with it.

With the aplomb only one with such a long life experience could muster in such a feet sweeping situation, he takes a shaky breath and asks the waiter over to bring them drinks.If his friend, Dream, wants to get his mind off things, he shall indulge him and regale him with tales. He draws nearer as he answers conspiratorially, with a sure smile and a bit of mischief glinting in his eyes:

“Well, my friend, be ready for the story of the century —and yes, this was an easy play on words, and really not good at all, but his friend’s mouth curls up every so slightly and he feels like he’s standing at the top of the world.

He goes through it all. The wonders, the horrors, the enterprising spirit of mankind in both its benevolent and malevolent endeavours, navigating a stormy sea filled with wonders and despair. Through it all, he speaks grandly, animated with gestures, silly anecdotes, a few wriggle of eyebrows and, at one time, a wink, which earns him a god to honest chuckle, and he decides here and there that he must find a way to make his friend laugh again, for this is the sweetest sound he has ever had the chance to hear. His friend interjects a few times, asking for clarifications or musing some mystical truth from his retailing, and Hob delights in his attention, in his viewpoint on the stories he tells. A few times, he even makes a few cynical comments, only the twinkle in his eyes revealing his jest, and Hob responds with a boisterous laughter, absolutely stricken by his friend’s strange, certainly dark and entirely damning sense of humour.

After what seems to have been minutes pass, which actually might have been hours as it is now dark and the influx of people coming to eat dinner spikes up, his great retelling is now reduced to a more mellow tone. He is sitting back with a fond smile, as he breaches the topic of his new job, and that of his students, how some of those young minds are a marvel to him, in how they allow themselves to be more freely with each generation, and how he learns more of the world and himself everyday through the lens of their bolstering youth. He stops, catching a depth of fondness in Dream’s eyes that simply steals away his words, and they simply look at each other for a time, simply relishing each other’s presence. It is a peaceful and content affair, so comfortable and pure, and Hob feels like his rightful place in the world can be found in this moment, like something just clicked into place, like a void he had forgotten was there has suddenly been filled to the brim with complete satisfaction, and— A glass falls to the ground, shatters, and Dream jumps on his chair, eyes wild.

“Dream!” comes his surprised gasp.

In reflex, he brought his hand on his friend’s forearm. The latter freezes, incredibly tensed, staring at the offending appenage with an unreadable expression, and quickly Hob takes it back, and circles the rim of his glass instead, to occupy his hand and pacify himself.

“... Are you… are you alright, my friend?”

This question again, he realises after it has crossed his lips. They have come full circle, it would seem. A long silence. He clenches his fingers nervously around his drink. He finds himself almost wishing for his friend not to answer, to go back to these joyful moments shared, to remain in blissful ignorance, or better, for his friend to admit that, yes, he had simply been brooding and trying to make his point clear, back then in 1989, and his absence was very much of his own fault, thank you very much. All quarrels pass in time, however, and he was just passing by and thought “What is becoming of this old cogger?” and simply went, which, ah, Hob can forgive, easily, selfishly, because in this anxious moment, he would have taken any reality other than the one in which the cruel truth takes form, inescapable, cemented in spoken words.

“... I was locked away in a cage for a hundred years,”

Dream admits with a voice so incredibly soft it breaks Hob’s heart in a million pieces. It is like angel tears, both beautiful and unfathomably sad, it is like a beautifully welded knife, searing through his flesh. Images of prisons in wartime flood his mind. He suddenly notices how much thinner his friend appears behind this coat of his, how emaciated his cheeks, how sunken his eyes, and at that, his blood slowly starts to boil.

“There was neither air nor sustenance in my captivity.”

Hob sees the memories choking his friend, pulling him under, and he reaches out on instinct, taking both of his hands in his, to try and anchor him. The blue eyes snap at him, and Hob starts pulling away again when his friend takes them back, keeping them both pinned on the table, jealously guarded by his own. As if to procure an explanation for this desperate hold, he adds, almost sheepish, with eyes filled with unshed tears:

“No kind company.”

His hands are soft, and cold, their press is strong and unyielding, and Hob fears the moment Dream will let go. Words do not come easily. Not when tears well up in his eyes, mirroring his friend’s. He wishes with all that he is to wipe away his pain, to hold him and protect him against the world. “You need not have come to my defence.” And yet…

“I'm sorry, my friend… had I known-”

“No. I would not have endangered you so.” Hob opens his mouth in protest but he’s quickly cut by the mellifluous yet intransigeant voice of his friend;

“One of my subjects, my faithful raven Jessamy…she tried to free me. She perished for her loyalty. I would not have you meet a similar fate. You may have survived, but you can sti-”

“Still be hurt, or captured.”

A shadow of a smile, a sad, small thing, as he nods in recognition. It is this inopportune moment Jen, the waitress, choses to interrupt, coming up to their table with an apologetic smile.

“Hey Robbie, sorry to interrupt your date-”

He tries to interject and reestablish the truth of the matter, which, in his head, would be something akin to “ah, I wish it were one, but it is not”, and stutters:

“Uh it’s, it’s not-”

His rebuke is rather weak and she plainly ignores him as she keeps saying her piece:

“-but are you guys going to order something? There are a lot of people here tonight, and I don’t want to have to turn down any customers.”

Dream retrieves his hands- and Hob feels terribly bereft-, then looks around him like he’s noticing for the first time how packed the place has become, and from the sour turn of his lips and increasing tension in his shoulders, Hob wagers he doesn’t like the chaotic, rambunctious crowd very much.

“It’s quite alright, Jen, we —do you want to come upstairs?”, he asks his friend, adding with a knowing smile “There’ll be less noise.”

A beat in consideration, then he answers with too much solemnity and intensity for such a casual offer:

“I shall follow where you lead.”

He turns his head to Jen in an attempt to avoid the intense look in his friend’s eyes, and sees as Jen slack jawed snaps out of her surprise and raises her eyebrows suggestively at him. Hob considers an instant the possibility of once again trying to dispel her assumptions. He ends up shrugging mentally. He’ll see about that later. The rumour mill will run crazily in the meantime, he knows, but, frankly, a part of him is preening at the idea people would think them a couple. A man can dream. Hopefully, his friend isn’t privy to those peculiar dreams. … As the, what, probable god of dreams, he very well might? Now that’s a distracting, life threatening thought if there ever was one, ha. He picks up his stack of half graded homeworks (he hasn’t made much of a dent in them, he knows he’ll come to suffer from it when he’ll have to sacrifice his sleep and his peace to get them done in time, but he can’t be bothered at all right now, his happiness full and impervious to regret). As he closes the locks of his briefcase Dream comments, watching him intently like he is resolving a puzzle:

“You know the staff quite well.” Ah, there it goes. He cannot quite escape this much longer, he guesses. Especially now Dream has agreed on his offer to come upstairs. Where he might have assumed the rest of the inn lies, but where his apartment lies also.

“Well, I do own this place, so, it comes with its perks.” He shrugs like it is no big deal, avoiding his friend’s eyes, and stands, coming at Dream’s sides to guide him through the crowd by the small of his back (not quite touching, simply gesturing). He brings them upstairs, feeling the heavy stares of his employees (and a few regulars). Rumour mill shall run, indeed. A silly anticipation rises in his gut, a buzz singing in his blood. He feels a little lightheaded. He rarely lets people come up to his apartment, but the sense memory of it mixes with his current circumstance anyway, and makes for a very combustible cocktail. He fumbles for his keys. It takes more time than usual to find the right one from the set.

“You live here.”

Dream's voice, much too close for peace of mind, vibrates through his body and leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

“Well sussed.”, he laughs without looking back, feeling how his friend crowds his personal space, and not daring to verify the fact, else his heart explodes in his chest. Hob breathes out. Opens his door. Bends in a silly and outdated courteous gesture:

“Welcome to my humble abode, my friend.”